The glory of marriage is learning to unite weaknesses into strengths, till one is stronger and more whole than before. Luci Shaw compares marriage to a gothic stone arch, with Christ as the capstone, uniting individual leanings into unity. In her analogy, marriage becomes a entrance, rather than a destination. Marriage that is viewed as “greater than us,” rather than “all about us,” has a long-distance perspective and the components of success.
In some ways, Western marriage could sound like the brainchild of a lab-coated Einstein, complete with explosive chemicals and warning signs. Take two individuals from diverse backgrounds, cultures, subtle belief systems, and expect them to build a functional life together against the pressures of the world, coupled only by attraction and commitment. “And know when to stand back,” state the warnings, “before the experiment blows up in your face.” Without commitment, many couples succumb to relying on their own strength for problem-solving, opting for their independence again.* Without attraction, there’s a shortage of high-octane fuel for the jet engine and it’s unable to reach the altitude for which it was designed. However, with both commitment and zing-zing, a beautiful mystery builds in front of one’s eyes, one day and one choice at a time.
When our little ministry group returned from our week with the dying RV, I came home with a touch of southern sun but a blaze in my heart. With everything in me, I wanted to date the Country Boy. He was gentle, good with kids, enjoyed solving problems, and made me feel safe. So I prayed and prayed about it. I talked about my feelings with my mom, a little bit, but not nearly as much as I prayed. However, I knew it was important that I surrender, because I would be miserable if didn’t. While I prayed and surrendered (many times in a few weeks!) Country Boy was thinking.
Somehow, Mrs. Insightful’s comments had clued him in. {The Beautiful Mystery, part one He told me later, “One day I woke up thinking, Why NOT date her? Overnight, I went from never thinking about you, to thinking about you all the time.” Two weeks later, he couldn’t wait anymore. We were together at a youth banquet, and afterwards, out in the snow, he asked me if I’d be willing to date him. I couldn’t believe my ears. I didn’t want to look desperate, but–I told him yes right there. Hey, when you know, you know. No need to fast and pray for weeks; I had done my praying already.
Saying yes to dating was the easy part. Learning how to express my feelings for him was another. I had been so dutiful to stuff my feelings when I was around him that it took a while for them to emerge. When I first told him, “I love you,” he said gently, “I knew you did, I was just waiting until you were ready to say so.”
We watched sunsets and sunrises, kayaked and picnicked, went out to eat, drank coffee, busted snowdrifts, gave gifts and love notes, rode a ferris wheel, set off sparklers, baked and cooked together, looked at buying a house, drank more coffee, started a business, took a few trips, shopped, and talked for hours. We had a few spats now and then, especially when I was tired or stressed. Mostly, we fell in love like it was the most natural thing. Nine months later, he shocked me with a dozen roses and a bended knee. “Will you marry me?” I stared at him for seconds before he said, “This is for real,” and I squeaked out, “Yes of course!”
Three months of wedding planning were a blur. I’m not a big fan of weddings, honestly, and that didn’t change for my own. We dutifully held the wedding, but mostly I just wanted a two week vacation with my boy.
But I wore a pretty dress, put up with all the pictures, walked that long church aisle, struggled not to faint during my vows, nicely cut the cake, thanked the advice-givers and left for the southern sunshine. One of the sweetest moments of the day occurred as we were driving away from our reception. Country Boy and I had just kissed in the truck, and then I got shy and laid my head on his shoulder. I looked up through the departure crowd of guests to see an 8 year old boy, jumping up and down on the sidewalk, an ear splitting grin on his face. He was ecstatic to witness that kiss.
That’s about 5% of our love story; the rest is in journals and my heart. I love him and trust him now more than ever. As far as the wedding went, my ideal wedding would be in a field of wildflowers with about twenty guests and a blue jeans groom, not 380 guests in a church. But we married in January, and we weren’t willing to wait another six months for June. As Kay Robertson says, “We married in a hurry, hotter than a red pepper.” We took a leisurely 18 day honeymoon, came home, set up house, have made so many beautiful memories. Together, we’ve battled giants, took some fun business risks, taught each other the meaning of trust, met some goals and are working on others. We’re edging close to three years and it’s just getting deeper and richer as the days go by. As one giant gives way to our sword, another mountain looms ahead. As the mountain falls behind, a river crossing laps at our feet. There will always be challenges and new stretches in a marriage, but that’s what keeps it the troops united and the outlook fresh.
The glory of marriage is learning to unite weaknesses into strengths, till one is stronger and more whole than before.
Tapestry Tales 