It is so difficult for a man to be vulnerable. I am one of the most vulnerable men I know, and like to think that I have learned to be vulnerable for the right reasons. But… as I was reflecting on the song, "Will You Still Love Me for the Rest of my Life," I found myself being touched with the feeling of my infirmities, weaknesses if you will, and realized my office door was open. I had to get up and not only shut the door, but gave in also to the impulse to lock it. Now, I have learned to enjoy some emotional experiences as intensely personal and sacred, but apart from that, I am still "too proud" to be as transparent as I would like to be. The song says it much better than I ever could.

"Darling here I stand, stand before you now." I admire this man for his courage to stand before this woman, with all his insecurities, and just stand there, exposed to the woman he has allowed to smite him with love. "Deep inside" he always knew it was she he wanted to become one with, allowing his heart to be "thrown together" with hers—their destiny. It is so fascinating how the Lord works within us in accordance with our needs and how we intuitively know "who" we need—that one person who, when allowed, will love and challenge us into a more and more finished masterpiece of His grace.

He asks over and over again, "Will you love me… Just say you love me for the rest of my life." If her answer is no, he realizes he cannot "go on." This is where the heart is crushed between two competing needs—the need to be dependent on another (It's not good for man to be alone), and the need not to expect another to do what only you can do. This is forever the task of love, to be able to cooperate fully with another person, each assuming appropriate responsibility, and each mining out a relationship which is truly interdependent—a position two people arrive at only after they have learned to be dependent, then independent, and not counter-dependent.

He says he "is just a man, never understood, never had a thing to prove." I appreciate his being "just" a man. My part in helping my wife and I create a vibrant marriage is my realizing it's okay to say "I'm sorry," and to recognize how I have tried to prove myself superior over her. And as a man, I believe I am being understood for the first time in my life, (maybe because it is becoming more important to me to focus on understanding another rather than on being understood?). The "proving" aspect confuses me, though. We are so consumed with proving ourselves. But I can almost see that in love I was "innocent" and just accepted and gave love the best I could, but in the disappointment which seems always to set in in marriage, I began proving I loved her so that she would read my mind and love me the way I thought I needed to be loved. That certainly creates an interesting dynamic. And if you're as confused as I am after reading this… I will explain it in 20 or 30 years. "Is that clear, soldier. Yes sir, crystal."

He talks about being closer to her than he wanted to be, asking whether love "can run so strong," and his heart losing "all control—now you're all that I know." This brings us back to a man's insecurities. This losing control and only knowing the one you love seems to happen once, maybe twice, in a marriage. It happens in the beginning. If you are really blessed, it happens again when both parties have been constrained by love to drive pride, like the "little foxes," far away from love's vineyard. When that happens, neither the man nor the woman, has to go on without the other's "body" or soul.