Grace Has a Face — And I Married Her: Meet The Woman Who Loved Me When I Was Unlovable
A Story of Failure, Loss, Forgiveness—and a Burning Love That Wouldn’t Quit
They say it takes two years to really know someone. I believe that. My wife learned that the hard way… and I hate that she had to.
But hang on. This isn’t a pity party. Stay with me because it gets better.
My wife is the definition of God’s grace. I’m not exaggerating. She has seen me at rock bottom. The worst versions of me:
The angry one.
The distant one.
The one who didn’t even like himself.
When I came into this relationship, I was a wreck. Addicted and numb. Drinking too much, chasing porn, and running from pain. I was a man hollowed out by my own choices — carrying shame like it was part of my identity.
I didn’t have hope or direction. I was slowly starving myself of self-worth and calling it normal.
And then I met my wife, Kali Hamilton.
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From a Simple Steakhouse to the Side of the Road
My wife and I had our first date at a local steakhouse. Nothing fancy. Just simple food and two simple people who don’t care much for stiff etiquette.
She was nervous. I could see it in the way she talked and moved. I still remember it. But I was patient with her because I know that feeling. I’ve wrestled with anxiety myself. When you recognize it in someone else, you handle it gently.
And somehow… we just clicked.
The conversation flowed. The awkward silences never really came. Being with her felt easy and safe. Like I didn’t have to perform. She felt like my person. The one who would understand me without me having to explain everything. I can’t fully describe it without sounding dramatic, but there was this quiet nudge in my spirit that night. A calm certainty.
That’s your wife.
When Everything Fell Apart, She Leaned In
Now, lets fast forward 2 months later. We’re dating. Everything is going just fine, until one night.
Make a long story short, I was the passenger in an automobile accident (I wrote about it in the article linked above) and abandoned by the driver at the scene of the accident. My older sibling and wife found me laying on the side of the road at the crash scene along with a Good Samaritan who found me first.
I still remember what she said to me when I was laying there in agony.
“I love you.” She said it for the first time.
Two months in. I’m an alcoholic. I’m laying on the side of the road with a broken and dislocated hip (yes, my left hip is titanium now), I’m helpless, low, literally at my bottom …and she chose to love me anyway.
From this point on, I’d love to say everything was honky dory. It was not. In fact, things got even worse. I was still trying to live a somewhat secular life, even after that. Still far from God (even though He rescued me from that wreck), addicted to porn, and addicted to alcohol. My wife picked me up. She carried me, emotionally and spiritually.
That same year, 2020, I lost my older sibling to suicide. Yep, the one who found me at the wreck…geez that’s hard to type out.
She was with me through that, every..single..step of the way. I remember just absolutely breaking down one night. Almost like the weight of the grief made me collapse. My wife picked me up. She carried me, emotionally and spiritually.
And it doesn’t end there. It gets worse.
One month later. Exactly one month later, I was fired from my job. This completely devastated me. I was hopeless. They had no empathy for me. Wouldn’t even approve unemployment. But my wife—My wife luckily had a job at the time. My wife picked me up. She carried me, emotionally and spiritually.
Just when I thought the bottom couldn’t drop any lower… it did.
After getting fired in November 2020, I wasn’t even able to jump back into the job hunt. I had a hip replacement surgery already scheduled for January 2021. Not optional. If I wanted to walk without pain for the rest of my life, it had to happen.
So I was stuck.
Two more months at home. No job and in pain. Waiting for surgery. Limping around frustrated and restless. It wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows. I was short-tempered. Bitter some days and quiet on others.
And through all of it… she stayed steady. She didn’t just love me when I was strong. She loved me when I was stuck.
My wife picked me up. She carried me, emotionally and spiritually.
Grace in Human Form
So what’s the point of me telling you all this?
At the beginning, I said my wife is the epitome of God’s grace. That’s not romantic exaggeration. Let me explain.
There’s a psychological principle called unconditional positive regard. It’s the idea that real love isn’t dependent on performance. It isn’t based on whether you’re impressive, successful, emotionally stable, or easy to deal with.
It’s love that says, “I see you fully… and I’m not leaving.”
Most relationships don’t operate that way. Most are transactional at some level. You perform well, I stay. You meet my needs, I feel secure. You fall apart too long, I reconsider.
That’s human nature. We are wired for self-protection. When chaos enters, people distance themselves. When someone becomes a burden, resentment can grow. When pain lasts longer than expected, commitment weakens.
Psychologists also talk about attachment under stress. Stress reveals everything. It exposes insecurity, magnifies cracks, and forces a choice: withdraw… or lean in.
When I was at my lowest — addicted, grieving, unemployed, bitter, physically broken — my wife leaned in. That’s not normal instinct. That’s covenant love.
And here’s where it gets spiritual:
The Bible says in Romans 5:8 that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
While we were still a mess. That’s grace. Grace is staying when someone is hard to stay for. Jesus didn’t love us because we were lovable, He loved us knowing we would fail Him. And He still chose the cross.
My wife’s love mirrored that in a way that shook me.
She saw the worst versions of me:
The insecure one.
The addicted one.
The grieving one.
The angry one.
The unemployed one pacing around the house in sweatpants with a titanium hip and a bad attitude.
And she didn’t withdraw. She stayed.
Psychology calls that secure attachment — when someone becomes a safe base even during instability. Spiritually, I call it grace in human form. Her love confronted me. With steadiness. And, steady love does something powerful to a broken man. It makes you want to rise and overcome.
Here’s another psychological truth: people tend to become what they believe they are. If you treat a man like he’s disposable, he’ll live like he is. If you treat him like he’s redeemable, something inside him starts to fight again.
She treated me like I was redeemable.
That kind of love doesn’t excuse sin. It doesn’t ignore problems. But, it refuses to define a person by their lowest chapter.
And that’s exactly what Christ does.
He doesn’t leave us in the ditch or say, “Call Me when you’re better.” He binds wounds and restores dignity to call us to something higher.
My wife did that for me. And I didn’t deserve it.
But grace, by definition, is unearned. And that’s why I say she is the epitome of God’s grace.
Because I met Jesus in a lot of ways during those years…
But I saw Him clearly in the woman who refused to walk away.
I love you Kali Hamilton, you’re my everything.
1 Corinthians 13:4–7:
“Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”
A hidden note I left for my wife in our home:
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This...is beautifully raw. Thank you for sharing a tiny glimpse of you both. 🌻
Kali is an amazing woman!