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The Date I’ll Never Forget

It was a Friday night. My husband and I had a "date" with two other couples from the small church where we ministered together. One of the couples was about our age, but the other couple, Willis and Betty, was in their late eighties.

We felt a bit awkward at first. How do you get the conversation started with people more than half a century your senior? But soon things began to feel natural as we watched a video and ate caramel corn, shared stories from our lives, and ended the evening with a rousing "hymn sing," which Willis enthusiastically led on accordion while my husband tried to keep up on guitar.

And that was that.

Yet that night jumps out time and time again in my mind as I think about my own marriage. What am I aiming for here? What really is marital "bliss"?

There's a reason for my incessant questioning on the subject. I've realized that one of the causes of conflict in our marriage has been the notion of the "Ideal Christian Marriage." It's a dangerous mythology many Christian women hold fast to. It prompts us to long for a husband who is an enduringly romantic, emotionally expressive, spiritual giant; who prays for and about everything, treats us like royalty, and quotes Song of Songs during nightly lovemaking. It's an ideal marriage of kindred spirits who understand each other at all times, who minister together with dogged determination, who consistently spur each other on in faith, who live adventurous and exciting lives, and who can't ever quite keep their hands off each other.

All hyperbole aside, this idea persists for many women, especially those of us who serve in ministry leadership roles. We can feel at times as if all eyes are on us, as if every aspect of our lives - including our marriage - must be exemplary. And so we allow this unrealistic ideal to take root in our thinking. Then when our marriage doesn't measure up, we feel disappointed, jipped, or frustrated.

This Christian-marriage mythology must be torn out by the roots. Something new, something authentic and human, needs to spring up in its place.

My time with Willis and Betty planted some seeds in my life; new perspectives on what really matters in marriage are beginning to germinate. These ideas aren't flashy, exciting, or even sexy. But they mean something.

Willis and Betty had many adventures in their six decades together. But the proof in the pudding was the thousands of everyday-days they spent together, the "mundane" routine of friendship, the regularly worn path through time that had become constant and trustworthy. I'm learning to recognize the immeasurable value of long-spirited companionship. It's an aspect of love that's undervalued and unnoticed in our world. It's the truly remarkable companionship of those "who have seen the new moon grow old together," as Madeleine L'Engle described in her series of marriage poems, "To a Long Loved Love."

I'm also inspired by the comfort in spiritual openness Willis and Betty displayed. During our late-night conversation, they disagreed feistily at times about issues of Christian life, they spoke of the humdrum moments of faith, and they shared honestly about seasons of darkness and doubt. There was no element of trying to impress one another spiritually, no need to be false or showy. Nor was there a desire to be intensely private. For them it was definitely a shared journey - a travail of two people side-by-side on a road of ups and downs and sometimes sharp turns.

And perhaps the most significant growing seed from my memory of that night is the laughter - the inside jokes Willis and Betty had, winking at each other with sly glances; the loud guffaws and snorts; the noiseless chuckling fits. They clearly had learned how to laugh not only with each other, but also at themselves. This is a powerful secret of true marital happiness: not taking oneself too seriously, being willing to surrender rightness or pride or position and instead chortle a bit at one's own selfishness or faults or willfulness. It reflects a firm sense of being human - not superhuman - and a determination to allow one's spouse to be the same.

What else would you say really matters in marriage?

April12, 2007 at 2:38 PM

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