Reconcilable Differences

This past year my husband, Mark, and I celebrated our twenty-first anniversary. During those twenty-one years, we tripped over many truths about life—and sidestepped a few more. Kind of like Dick Van Dyke and his pesky ottoman.

We had a lot going against us back in 1975. We were twenty years old with two years of college remaining, and we had never lived on our own. We came from different backgrounds: Mark grew up on meat and potatoes while I was used to hamburger-surprise casserole. He preferred water-skiing on a steamy lake over my hiking in the cool mountains. But we had two key things going for us: determination and our Christian faith. We were committed to each other and to our growing relationship with God.

Determination is solid. Tough. It goes beyond high hopes and sweet endearments. It's the bedrock of a lasting marriage. Although love is essential, it's somewhat ethereal—like trying to capture your breath on a cold day. But when love's intertwined with determination and deep Christian faith, it becomes strong.

Yet just because we were both determined to make our marriage work doesn't mean I didn't want to grab Mark in a headlock a few times. (And vice versa.) But over the years, we've discovered ten truths of a lasting marriage:

1. You say tomato, I say tomahto. When we were first married, we thought it was necessary to like the same things. With innocent accommodation, I tried pan-fried chicken and Mark tried chicken 'a la king. I tried to watch basketball (such squeaky shoes!) and he tried to watch black-and-white movies (such gorgeous shoes!).

It was done with the best of intentions but with mixed results—I learned to like pan-fried chicken and he learned to tolerate recipes that were 'a la this and that. But as we stopped trying so hard to blend our individual tastes into one, we learned there are advantages to not liking the same things. I never have to worry about Mark snarfing up my rhubarb pie and he never has to worry about me taking a bite of his pumpkin.

And our horizons have been suitably broadened. Because of me, he's experienced the excitement of live theater. And because of him, I've learned to sing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" during the seventh-inning stretch.

Our differences don't diminish our life together. They enhance it.

2. Nobody's perfect. Hosea 2:19 reminds us of our wedding vows: "I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion." But because we're human beings, strong emotions also come with that pledge. Just because you promised to love, honor, and perhaps pick up his socks doesn't mean you don't sometimes feel like stuffing a sock in his mouth. But as the angry feelings come, remember to let them go until you can talk to your spouse without yelling. Think what it would be like to see the sun sparkle across a mantle of newly fallen snow and not have his arm to tug … or to wake up on your birthday and not have him there to roll over, squeeze your hand, and say, "Happy birthday, hon." Continue Reading