Vince and I were driving in the car a couple of years ago, and I was spilling my guts out to him about a topic I can't remember now. He was quiet—listening, I hoped.
Eventually he made a comment or two that made me feel as though he fully understood me, maybe even more than I understood myself.
In the quiet that followed, I studied his profile. I was filled with gratitude and relief that here in my forties I was experiencing what I had dreamed of and longed for since I was a young woman. I tried to find the words to communicate my wonder in being fully understood by a man.
Finally he said with a smile, "Amy, I don't want to take credit where it isn't due. I love you, but I can't say I always understand you. What I can say is that I welcome you. I welcome you, and whatever you bring to the table is enough."
I thought, Better still.
Read more excerpts from Amy Grant's Mosaic:
"How Did I Wind Up Here?"