Back then, I didn’t think I’d ever for one moment be.
Vowed to myself that I’d never, ever: slam those doors, raise my voice, stomp my feet, and walk. away. angry.
Never for one split second ever imagined that I’d ever be SO FUMED.
Or that this beast would show its ugly rear in the compound of my home, in the fold of my skin.
Did they say that broken babies make bent ladies?
I never expected that there’d be nights of driving out into the dark, of circling round and round that beat-up Toyota, just to clear your one muddled-up mind.
In those early years of our marriage? I left him with our babies.
Not once, but twice.
I left him, worried to death, in the darkest of all my darks.
My brother and I — we’d both hidden behind closed doors and trembled through those fights.
We’d clung tight and cried silently as Daddy’s voice hollered through the hall and the plates crashed down in pairs.
The fights grew wild and our voices grew weak.
And you can be 5, witness all those messes, and believe that the cause of all those rifts?:“it must be me”.
You can grow up being all that you are, and having all that you have, and never knowing how to process anger healthily, never learning how to fight fair intimately, never grasping how you can talk calmly and disagree kindly and actually grow in and through those fights.
And yeah it’s true —anger kills romance when you drag it into the marriage bed.
Doesn’t it always start with something small?
He says something torpid, and you retort back with something tenebrous.
Then it cooks.
Before you know it, you hear the simmer.
You lose the key and he loses his cool. And then, an eruption?
The wonder of love can get murky through the scrapes of life.
And we can lose the wonder of love when we really want to be in control, because fear often masks itself as anger when you feel like you’re outta control.
But this is true: the way to live life in control is to give the key of control to the One who really can control.
The way to live life in control is to give the key of control to the One who really can control.
Love endures long…
And a great marriage takes a great amount of work, a great depth of nurture and a great level of maturity. There’s no roundabout way about it.
What did my sister say again about the danger of emotional driving?
I tried texting another sister. She’s overseas, but she’ll understand.
He tried ringing. And I stubbed it out.
He’s in my face, but will he ever understand?
And one thought that rummages through and through: “We’re not really meant for each other.” That he’d never get me, that I’d never like him.
And yes, you can grow 12 and receive the hope of a new life, and the start of a brand new beginning, and not deeply realise that the grace that saves you is also the grace that sanctifies you.
And His love that redeems you is exactly the language of health for what repairs you.
You never know the lies that lay dormant deep in you, and the causes of all your confusion, and the avoidance of all your difficult emotions, until you’ve got fist in the air, promising that life will never again have you trembling in fear, that relationships will never again make you powerless, victimised, unprotected…
Till a moment of truth teaches you otherwise when you hop into the church of your youth.
That to build a great marriage, you’ve got to understand and grasp this:
Love is a decision, not an emotion.
Love is a covenant, not a convenience.
Love is a commitment, not a compulsion.
Love is for holiness, not mere happiness.
Real marriages are built not just on hot beds of lust, but on the raw and rough edges of love.
Real marriages are built not just on hot beds of lust, but on the raw and rough edges of love.
Love keeps no ledger of wrong, it forgets all past, it hopes for all new.
So after driving around for what seemed like an eternity of aimlessness, I felt silly and headed back home.
I found a little note.
It was an opened screen from a heart I’d broken into two.
He wrote:
“I wonder what sort of day she’s really had….and how tiring it can all be for her. The constant questions, “Mummy, where’s my green pencil?”. The weaning, washing, wiping and how the cycle perpetuates…
And then there’s me.
A fairly selfish, analytical, super-conservative, verbose, generally unemphatic husband who seems to have opinions on everything.
Oh and I forgot to mention a bit self-righteous and down-right grumpy at times (when the milk runs out). She must wonder what it’s all about!
Oh Lord, I pray for my dear wife. I know that I need to be a better husband and father… I know that taking spiritual leadership isn’t just about demanding time.
A real man, must really care and must really care enough to seek you for the answers. I need your love to fill me so that My love can overflow into her…Help me Lord I pray. I am just a very normal, average, and at times below average guy with a desire to… well, be better…”
A smile escaped my face.
Did he say he was verbose? And self-opinionated? Analytical?
His raw honesty softens the hardened ground inside me.
Could it be that real love is about getting real down on your knees, and standing real strong on trying times, until the truth about love sticks straight in you, and transforms you to stop looking for the right fit, but to start being the right fit?
Men that fall on their knees in prayers are always men that rise up to lead on in life.
And marriage – this mysterious union of two becoming one, of welding different stones cut out of different quandaries blossom through deep connection, not just great communication.
Connection is what we long for — not just mere chit chats.
When that bedroom door flings open and he finds me with tears at the end of my drippy nose, he straight drops on his knees like he’s proposing and proposes a connection, a reconciliation:
“Where have you been? I’m so so worried about you. And I’m so sorry about judging you.”
Love endures long…
Doesn’t matter who’s right, who’s wrong – love always, always takes the first steps to divide the walls and combine the hearts.
Marriage builds when we let every layer peels.
And it’s true — a chord of 3 strands isn’t easily broken.
And when we interweave two halves of a life with a tapestry of the love on the Cross, something happens…
Something miraculous happens.
The Cross transforms the sinners, repairs the fractured, heals the angry, perfects the proud, imperfect half and connects the two and makes them one.
The Cross connects. It really does.
Ways To Connect Deeply:
- Start with Last Things First. Brush your lips and noses against each other’s when you greet in the morning, when you walk through the door — let love begin and end your day. Practice a good kiss, not just a quick peck.
- Look at Each Other in the Face, and into the Eyes. Stop what your hands are doing and cup each other’s faces. Stare away from the screen, and lock into each other’s souls. Then look for the bare, the unspoken, the hidden pain.
- “Tell Me What I Can Do Better?”This ought to be the mantra for every conflict resolution. Begin with humility – they pay. Know that love shows up even when every conceivable wall is built to shut you up and out.
- Hear Me Out But Don’t Fix Me Up. The secret of what every woman (even the angry ones) wants to hear? “Empathise with me but don’t solve my problem for me. Tell me it’s complicated, but I’m NOT complicated. My life may be messy, but I am NOT a mess.”
- Tell Me Instead That You Love Me — warts and all. Practice this in a fight: tell each other that you’re safe with each other, that you’re a base for each other. Rub each other gently with this healing balm: “I love you just the way you are. You are perfect FOR ME just the way you are.”
- Tell Me That You Won’t Walk Out On Me When the Going Gets Tough. Don’t let the sun go down when you’re still angry — try sleeping and holding hands after a fight. Wake up to see who’s still got the hands? — be the first to say: I forgive you…[break the ice, steal the smile]
- Whatever happens, anchor in truth stronger than yourself, the One who won’t break under your own weight. Find Christ who holds your weight and your weakness with His strength. When one is mean, wait for the right time, then point each other to the Word and protect each other from the world. Timing is crucial. Nobody likes the feeling of being told what to do – so wait for the time to speak. And after all the storms subside, (which they will), hold fast to the grace that will put all your broken parts together again.