My husband recently made this statement in a sermon: “As Christians, we believe in an alien identity and an alien purpose. We believe that our identity and purpose come not from within, but from above.” These days, that kind of statement can be an unusual way to talk about identity!
This post was adapted from Male & Female: Embracing Your Role in God’s Design. Read below to learn about how marriage reflects God’s design for the head and the helper, as discussed in Genesis.
Twenty years ago, a boy looked on me and I swooned.
Okay, it didn’t quite go like that. Instead, a boy looked on me, I looked skeptically back, we started discussing deep theological concepts and—bam—three years later we figured out we should be a couple. I started to swoon a year after we were married and I found out he thought I was pretty with bedhead and unbrushed teeth.
A few days ago, I was sitting at my desk returning various emails and updating various web-type things when my phone vibrated. I picked it up expecting a text from one of my children that they had forgotten their lunch or at the very least a text from a friend with a funny gif.
What do you do when your marriage has failed to make you happy?
In marriage there are moments of unhappiness—the sharp tongue of the moment, the inability to come to a rational conclusion together, the challenge to communicate so many life details as someone rushes off to work.
A few weeks ago, my first grader brought home a little book he had made in school. He was zealous to show it to me, reading the text for me himself as he turned the pages. It was filled with affirmation, but it was unique in that the text focused on growing rather than achieving.
My husband and I go running a few mornings a week. We don’t go far, but it’s a chance for fresh air and to watch the sunrise before kids and life and work happen for the day.
In 1998, my husband and I bought a tent.
This tent spelled adventure with a capital A for us. We traveled everywhere with that tent–we hiked up and slid down the Indiana dunes, watched Missouri sunsets, swam in Kentucky lakes, cheered on baseball teams in Ohio, Colorado, and Michigan, ate unidentifiable foods in the deep South, and tucked into our -30 degree sleeping bags Up North at night.
I am prone to fits.
Not giant fits of rage, but tiny little fits that come like little storm squalls, all thunder and lightning and then nothing, silence, all done.
Except they’re not all done. These little fits stack up, and my husband and family get the worst end of it.
Life is hectic. We find ourselves constantly waiting for the next season of life when “things will slow down.” They don’t. Part of contentment is making peace with the reality that life holds lots of responsibilities, and part of it is asking God to help us realign our values with His—daily, weekly, yearly redefining priorities, reassessing what is important and what matters most by the power of the Holy Spirit.