Real Life Marriage: Holy Not Happy (A Reprise)

When I first got married, I really railed against the idea that marriage is "to make you holy not happy"  (a paraphrase from Gary Thomas' (2015) book Sacred Marriage). It was really that word "not" that I railed against. Marriage was making me happy, and I wanted to enjoy it. I still do. Marriage is a gift from God, one I do not want to take for granted. Six plus years into marriage, though, I think I am starting to get it.

I love my husband. Really, I do! He is a gift. He is smart, kind, caring, compassionate, helpful, wise, and so much more-AND-we are very different. Six years in, those differences seem to be becoming more, not less pronounced. Or maybe they are just becoming more apparent as we experience more of life together. If marriage was all about happiness, I would argue that we would be out. Marriage is a lot more about sanctification, or at least overtly choosing that path.

Being married to a very different person forces me to confront my selfishness over and over again. If I am honest, most of the time I just want to make choices that benefit myself. I want to eat what and where I want to eat. I want to do chores on my schedule. I want to watch movies I like. I want to spend money on things for me. Sometimes I want to make choices that benefit and bless my husband, but most often, I don't. Marriage makes that very apparent. Marriage show me how much I need to grow.

I have plenty of happy times with my husband. We enjoy adventuring together. We travel. We play games. In this season, though, my need to grow is apparent. I have always needed the Lord's sanctifying work, but now more than ever, I see it. Marriage is an instrument God is using in my life. Man, it can be rough. Man it can be painful. Since marriage is God's will for me, though, I would not have it any other way. I need to be more holy and when God in His grace allowed me to get married, this was part of His plan.

Reference:

Thomas, G. (2015). Sacred marriage: What if God designed marriage to make us holy rather than to make us happy? Zondervan.

The Check Engine Light

The check engine light came on in our car again. It was poor timing, right before my husband had a big test for his classes, along with an important meeting regarding his future career. I had work, too, and I didn't want to leave it. The thing was, I could. Several of my afternoon appointments cancelled, so I technically had the opening. I had vacation time I could take so I would not lose wages. The cost to me was my desire to do what I wanted to do, my pride.

I really wrestled with whether or not to leave work. I rued the fact that I had to be the one to take care of the car issue. I grouched that life was unfair. Why did the car have to be my issue, too? In the past, my husband had taken care of the car, but at this time and in this season, everything that is not his school or work is pretty much my responsibility. Taking care of these responsibilities is a way I can serve and support my husband, things I want to do, but selfishly, not in this way.

After much internal debate and some Holy Spirit conviction, I left work early, figuring I would make up time if I could, or take vacation. When I got in the car, the check engine light had mysteriously gone off. I hoped I might just go home to work, but my husband asked me to still take the car into Auto Zone. I did. There, they asked me to plug in the code reader myself, something I didn't know how to do. (Fortunately, YouTube did!). When I took the code reader back in for a download, the only code that read was about the gas pedal, we thought, due to my having bumped in while vacuuming out the car a few days earlier. I heaved a great sigh of relief.

As I drove the remaining distance home, I felt the conviction that this check engine light issue was not a coincidence. It was a check engine light for my marriage. Was I willing to sacrifice for my husband, for us? Was I willing to prioritize my home life over my work. I needed a priority check, and this was it. I think I passed, barely, but would I next time?

As it turned out, a few weeks later, the car's check engine light not only came on, but accompanied an issue that made the car virtually inoperable. I couldn't take care of the car, and my husband did so to take care of me. Maybe things all come out in the wash? Whatever the case, I know that only regular maintenance of my heart before the Lord and deliberate work on partnership in my marriage will ensure that our priorities are in place, and that we continue to work together, rather than at adds to one another. Only then will the light of Christ shine through us as we desire.

Self Care is My Responsibility.

I have never been especially good at self-care. I have become especially bad at it since getting married. It is not the fault of my marriage. In fact, my husband has been a vocal proponent of self-care. I just thought that my job as a wife was to sacrifice and be selfless, and it is, but I have been doing it to my detriment. I could not figure out how to separate self-care from selfishness, and I did not want to be selfish, so I tried to give up self-care. As you can guess, it did not work out well. I am learning that not practicing self-care actually leads to the kind of selfishness I wish to avoid.

I have many times felt like I needed permission to practice self-care. When I would vocalize this need, my husband would tell me that it was not a need. He already gave me permission. In fact, he encouraged me to practice self-care. That freed me up a little, but I still didn't endorse the idea. It felt selfish practicing self-care when I had responsibilities to do. I knew I had permission to do self-care, but I thought I needed time. Then my husband started intentionally doing more and more for me to try to give me time. I felt ashamed and not good enough to take time away from our daily duties, so I kept working. Self-care could wait.

I have put self-care on the back burner to the point that I do not function well, that my husband has to command me to stop doing what I am doing and stop. That is not the best way to have to practice self-care. It is a selfish way to practice self-care, too, because my actions are requiring my husband to stop what he is doing to take care of me. I have realized that although it is his biblical job to take care of me as the leader of our home, I also have a job in my care, and that is self-care.

My husband gets to know me better and better the longer we are married. He cannot read my mind, though. Only I know what is in my head. Only I know the mental signs that I need a break. To push past them is to disconnect from my body, leaving my head hanging and myself a less functional whole (Rosmarin, as cited in Macpherson, 2021). Only I know what I really need in a moment of tension or stress. My husband can offer ideas, but I have to make the choice. Ultimately, if I am not practicing self-care, I am emptying my husband (and possibly others; he is just the closest to me) of resources instead of giving to him, which is what I am supposed to do as his wife and helpmate.

I have come to the conclusion that self-care is my responsibility. I have to practice self-care to avoid selfishness and to be able to sacrifice. As marriage and family therapist Erin Smalley (2021) says, "It’s my job to make sure I'm full so I’m not serving up leftovers." Leftovers are great in terms of making for a quick bite to eat, not so great in terms of sustenance. My marriage needs sustenance. I need sustenance.

I may not be good at self-care. I may be rusty and out of practice. I may not always know what I want or need. I may feel guilty. These are all excuses, though. The fact is that I need an appropriate amount of self-care, to function in my calling as a wife, and beyond. So here's to learning, to following my husband's leading (he wasn't so wrong about self-care after all) and to getting better, for me and for my household as we seek to serve the Lord (Josh 24:15).

References:

Macpherson, G. (Host). (2021, August 16). "Dr. David H. Rosmarin. Ancient Jewish Wisdom for Modern Mental Health." In The Trauma Therapist. https://www.thetraumatherapistproject.com/podcast/dr-david-h-rosmarin-ancient-jewish-wisdom-for-modern-mental-health

Fuller, J. (Host). (2021, September 7). Listen to the metronome. [Audio podcast episode]. In Focus on the Family Marriage Podcast. Focus on the Family.

Marriage Misnomers: Let Things Go.

The joining of two lives in marriage can cause some friction and even conflict. Some people will tell you to let things go. That's all well and good, but after I let so many things go, I start to feel bitter and resentful about what I am losing. I feel better better when I decide to give some things up. Letting go is passive. Giving up is active.

Take for instance, cooking. I would like to be good at things like bread baking and pancake flipping. I am not, and my husband is. I can try to compete with him. I can try to dissuade him from practicing his gifts. Or I can give some things up and wholeheartedly endorse the areas where he shines. Which is better for our marriage? The answer is pretty clear.

I don't have a lot of time. Sometimes my husband asks me to do things when I have other things still on my list to do. I can let go of my things and do his, but then I feel bereft. I grasp at what I left. If I willfully decide to give up what I want to do, it's gone. I have made a sacrifice for our marriage and though it may hurt, it doesn't leave behind as many hurt feelings.

I want to have the right answers. Sometimes I get defensive and argue with my husband because I want to be right. I can let go of what I think and believe whatever he says, but sometimes that feels like abandoning myself. If I give up my need to be right and instead choose to close my mouth and agree to disagree, things go better.

Letting things go? Maybe that's sometimes the answer. But in marriage, I think it's better to give things up. Giving up is active. It's intentional. It's purposeful. After all, isn't the point of marriage to give up your life to make a new life, and in that way image Christ? And isn't His giving up His life the best gift of all? He didn't let go. He willingly gave. ALL. And we should follow in His steps.

Marriage Misnomers: Love is Blind.

"Love is blind," the old saying goes. But is it? People warned me against blind love when I was dating, saying I wanted to see the person for who they were, faults, flaws and all before marriage. That way I'd know what I was getting into. The intoxicating effects of love could have a "rose-colored glasses" effect, people said, so "Wise up; see things clearly," they advised. I thought I did that. I saw my husband as he was. I accepted him. What I didn't see was me.

I brought plenty of my own baggage to marriage: my fears, my perfectionism, my white-knuckle grip on my routine. I expected these things to continue to plague me. What I didn't expect was how they would affect my relationship with my husband. My husband is more of a laid-back, easy-going, lighthearted person. Very little troubles him deeply. I, on the other hand, am troubled by much, and often. I knew my husband was different when we were dating. I appreciated it even. I didn't expect (or want) him to change. I didn't know, however, how hard it would be for me to have my own weaknesses exposed in marriage. I was blind to myself.

I was blind to how deeply entrenched my own negative beliefs about myself and the world were. I was blind to my selfishness and self-centeredness. I was blind to how my need to control could drive my husband and I apart. I was blind to my deep-seeded self love. I didn't realize how hard it would be to selflessly love another. I truly didn't see.

Over one year into marriage, I'm here to tell you that love is blind, but not in the way society suggests. Love and its accompanying cascade of feel good hormones, does make you blind, blind to yourself. Love makes you think your own flaws will go away. Love makes you think you can be selfless without it costing too much. Love builds you up and makes you think you have superhuman power to do anything and everything. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. True love, the kind of self-giving love that makes marriage work, is very, very hard. So hard that it requires superhuman power. 

"This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters" (1 John 3:16, New International Version [NIV]). That is not a blind love. That is an eyes-wide open, eyes fixed only Jesus kind of love. That is a self-sacrificing, self-abasing, deal with the log in your eye and not the speck in theirs kind of love. That is an all-seeing love, not a blind love, and the only kind of love that will last eternally. May God give us eyes to see.

Real Life Marriage: How I Pray for My Husband

I'll never forget the day that I realized I might be praying for my husband all wrong. I had just started the 30 Day Praying for your Husband Challenge from Revive Our Hearts, and after just a few days, I noticed something. None of the prayers were about vertical things, things on earth, things in our marriage, things in our relationships. The prayers were about horizontal things: relationship to and with God, humility, leadership, patience, etc. What I had been praying wasn't wrong, but the way was praying was wrong.

I prayed for my husband since before we were married. I prayed about his work and friendships and about his struggles and sorrows. I prayed about our friendship, and then our dating, and finally our marriage. I thought I was praying for the right things because I was praying with him in mind. I realized when I started the prayer challenge that I was praying not for him, but about him. I was praying selfishly for my good, and for my definition of good, but not for my husband's good, or God's definition of good for my husband. I was praying about external things, and not about his internal state.

Praying through the 30 day challenge refocused my heart. First, it reminded me to pray first and foremost for my husband's heart, and for his right relationship with God. Second, it reminded me to pray Scripture, because that is God's known and manifested will. Third, it prompted me to pray for my husband to have Christlike character and to say to the Lord, "'Not my will, but yours be done" (Luke 22:42, New International Version [NIV]). 

Do I still pray for the day-to-day stuff for my husband? Sure! But I try to pray about it for my husband's good, and from a perspective of what God wants, not what I want. At the end of the day, my greatest desire for my husband is that he loves God with all his heart, soul, mind, and strength (Luke 10:27). When he does that, he's going to benefit. I'm going to benefit. The world is going to benefit. "'Your kingdom come [Lord], on earth as it is in heaven'" (Matt 6:10). This is the way, then, that I should pray.

Thoughtful, But Unkind

I've always thought of myself as a thoughtful person. But the Holy Spirit has shown me lately that thoughtfulness and seeing the needs of others does not always equate with kindness. Though I may be a thoughtful person, able to see the needs of others, I am very unkind.

Case in point: The other night in the shower, I kept turning up the water hotter and hotter. I knew I was running the water tank low, leaving my husband with only cold water, but I did it anyway. I chose my comfort over his. In the same manner, I often see the needs of others, but steel myself against them, sometimes because I don't want to dig deep to see if I can meet those needs, sometimes because seeing the needs hurts me, sometimes for other reasons. In most cases, my selfishness comes to light.

I am not Jesus. I cannot meet the needs of everyone, but I can be kind. And I should be more kind. But I'm not getting there myself. And being self-righteous about how thoughtful I think I am isn't going to help me.

Having the Spirit show me how great a sinner I am is painful. It is shaving down of my pride. But the more I realize I am a sinner, the more I realize I need Jesus. And maybe that's the way it's supposed to be. Jesus is the only truly thoughtful and perfectly kind human. He is the only one who can meet all our needs. May I ever more look to him as the Spirit forms me in His likeness.

Marriage is Ministry.

Photo credit: Arris Affairs

"Marriage is ministry." I first heard this phrase when listening to the commentary for my daily Bible reading. The more I thought about it, the more I found it true. Marriage is supposed to be our primary commitment in life, second only to our commitment to Christ. And if marriage is supposed to image Christ and the church (which I believe it is), then marriage should include service, for Christ gave all.

So what does mutual ministry look like in marriage? It's not black and white. And most of the time, it's not as glamorous as people make it out to be. Sometimes it's cooking dinner, eating alone, and keeping the food warm for my husband when arrives home well afterward. Sometimes it's the ministry of presence sitting together on the couch as we both work on our laptop computers. Sometimes it's him holding me when I cry. Sometimes it's doing that extra chore because I know it will bless him. And sometimes it's allowing him to do something for me because doing so will bless him. Ministry in marriage varies every day, day by day.

Marriage is about growth and sanctification. Therefore, ministry in marriage is definitely not cut and dry. That's why we need Christ as our Savior and model. Because we can only truly serve each other in His strength. And we need his ministry of salvation and redemption before we can truly minister to others. But when we minister to others, especially our spouses, it grows us in ways we couldn't imagine, closer to God and closer to each other. In that way, marriage is a ministry of God to us!

Real Life Marriage: The Hardest Thing

(Photo by Arris Affairs)

Two months. That's how long we've been married. It's been wonderful and super painful. It's been joy-filling and heart-wrenching. The hardest thing? The loneliness. And no, it's not because of my husband. It's because of me.

I've felt lonely these past two months. Lonely for the old me. Everything about marriage and being a wife is new. And it's good and growing and beautiful. But sometimes I long for the old me, where I knew a little more about life, or at least in hindsight, thought I did. I long for the comfort and safety of routine and my way. I honestly sometimes long to be selfish and not have to think about anyone else. I long for the times I thought I knew how to love people. I rue the painful, yet productive pricks the Spirit gives as I learn to love the new person who is permanently in my life.

I've felt lonely. Lonely for my parents. The whole leaving and cleaving thing wasn't as hard as I expected in terms of forming a new family with my husband. I enjoy marriage and all of its adventures. But I had no idea how much I relied on my parents until I left them. Now I have to rely on my husband, and though that's a good thing, it's hard and painful. I find myself grieving the parent-child relationship I had, even as I rejoice in the new bonds Chris and I are forming with my parents as a couple.

Marriage is tough. Not because of fighting or relational tension or discomfort so much as because of the way it exposes my flaws. My loneliness has exposed my great need for God, and for Him to be first above all else. My loneliness has exposed my sin and my need for sanctification. My loneliness has exposed my selfishness and my struggle to really love another human fully and completely.

Marriage is good and growing. I thank God for it, and for my husband. And I thank my husband for being patient and gracious and kind to me as I deal with these things that are hard, and that I never thought would be as hard as they are.

To God be the glory. Great things He hath done (and is progressively doing).

Self-Care vs. Selfishness

I found myself becoming increasingly and increasingly unhappy after writing my last post about self-care. I'd hiked. I'd cooked. I'd painted my toes. I'd crocheted. And I was still unhappy. Very unhappy. I cried the first day I came home from work after break. Then I came home and cried the second day. And I'm not talking about just a few tears. I'm talking about mascara running down my face, loud, ugly crying.

And then I went to Bible study where we talked about priorities. God, husband (if you have one), children, believers, and extended family/friends (in that order). God is always my first priority, and my family (parents and brother) are priority, too. But to be honest, I haven't had much time for my family lately. And I haven't had energy for service, emotional or otherwise. I've been trying to be happy, trying to be nice, and doing none of it.

My Bible study leader asked me if I'd been praying about my priorities, my work. Another lady told me that this "trial" is supposed to make me more Christlike. I told her I didn't see that happening yet. I just felt pain. 

I went home after Bible study and cried and cried some more. I realized that I'd been focusing on myself with a tunnel-like acuity, to the exclusion of everyone else. I was very convicted of my selfishness. But I didn't want to give up my things: running, blogging, self-care time. Those were mine, and all I could hold onto.

Then God convicted me that I hadn't been counting my blessings. I'd been so focused on making myself happy that I wasn't finding joy in little things like crossword puzzles, or Mom buying groceries for me, or Dad putting away dishes (typically my job at home). I took some time to write a list of gratitudes, and God used that to calm my mind. I enjoyed my nighttime snack more that evening and went to bed somber, but a little calmer.

I woke up the next morning and realized how I'd been cramming "self-care" into my mornings to the exclusion of greeting my family, helping around the house, etc. I cried again. With the Holy Spirit's help, I prayed my way through the work day, and I had a better day. God released me to go jogging after work, and I enjoyed it. I also completed my "to-dos," including blogging that evening, and felt okay about it. God ordered my priorities for the day.

What I'm realizing is that a lot of life is about perspective, doing all to the glory of God (1 Cor 10:31), working as unto the Lord, not men (Col 3:23). Self-care is good, if I'm doing it to care for my body as God's temple (1 Cor 6:19-20). Self-care is good, but only if in the right order of priorities. Self-care is good, but only if done in appreciation of God's good and perfect gifts (James 1:17). Self care is good, but only if I do it so that I can deny myself, take up my cross (Luke 9:23), follow Jesus, and serve others. If I do self-care just for myself, it's selfish.