I’m sitting here at my desk as the sun starts to descend upon a lazy Sunday. I sip a glass of red wine and my too cute husband sits with my too cute pup on the couch and that same lazy light gleams in on them.

We have been falling into a rhythm, a sweet one. Since school ended at the end of May and teaching perks kicked in full time, we have acquired a new calmness to our marriage that has invaded the space.

And then we met our sweet new pup and we knew this new rhythm, one that has just caught us both in, swaying gently to the Georgia cicadas on a summer night, would be interrupted. Not much, but a little anyway. And I knew that scared him. It scared me too. The three of us lay in our bed (puppy sprawled between us) and he reached over for my hand and he said it: I’ve been feeling sick because I’m so worried about everything changing. I know. And I didn’t say it that time, but I thought it.

Trust me.

“I trust you” has become our new “I love you”. And it’s not that the latter has lost any value because those words bear weight far greater than even we fully realize yet. But “I trust you” has become the anthem of this season: of growing up and not being “new” to our jobs and having car payments and making huge purchasing decisions and paying bills and now this, adding a puppy into the mix, the rhythm, that is honestly one that is so, so good.

I trust you. We have known love and we are learning it still, but this is a new aspect of it. Not a trust you to love me and only me, but I trust you with the things that I want to control for myself. I want to KNOW that bill was paid or that this decision isn’t foolish. And I’m learning that radically, “I trust you” changes things.

And it’s the same way with the God of the universe, ya know? “I trust you” is a next level “I love you” (or so only just another faction of it). But we are convinced we know how to love God. “I love you, but…” this is too heavy of a situation. So honestly, I don’t trust. Not fully. Not really.

“I trust you” is a declaration and it’s sealing in a new bubble of protection over this marriage. It is aging us (in a good way), as we choose to love in a way that relinquishes control and where our livelihood lies in the hand of the one we promised forever too. It’s a lesson in the way we love and trust (or don’t yet) trust the Lord in June and January and Friday at 4 o’clock and Monday at 7 a.m.

So I’ll keep declaring “I trust you”, making this the rhythm that keeps this going.

And I’m learning, but you can trust me too.