Today I’m sharing a piece on marriage I wrote for Dallas Moms Blog called “What to Do When Marriage is Miserable.”
Some of the comments this post received on social media yesterday surprised me. Women referred to me as a “little snot” and as “spoiled.” Reading these words made me cringe (and curl into the fetal position for a good part of the morning.) But, the more I processed it, the more I knew it was the truth. I acted spoiled because I thought marriage would be about me. Or, at least more about me than it seemed to be on our honeymoon.
I was a mess and my ability to communicate was just slightly better than an over-tired toddler’s.
At the time I would have told you I knew Jesus, but my sanctification–in the arena of my pride and selfishness especially–had only just begun. Marriage points out our self-centeredness in a way that nothing else can. A decade of marriage has changed me in ways I never expected.
What is left out of the story you’ll read below is the important role that spending time in God’s word and praying played in my marriage getting better. The short story is this: none of us have what it takes to make our marriages better. We need His help to do that effectively.
If you are in a bad spot in your marriage today, I pray this encourages you. If you aren’t currently struggling, then perhaps you’ll still be able to relate to some of the humor in my story shared below. This Thursday I’ll tell even more of the details of what was going on in my mind during those first few weeks of marriage. My brain hosted a ping pong tournament of thoughts about whether or not I had made the right choice…and if marriage would ever get better!
I hope you’ll check back on Thursday or subscribe to make sure you catch every post in this month’s marriage series. Here it is, “What to Do When Your Marriage is Miserable.”
The tile felt cold and hard so I got off the floor and sat on the edge of the bathtub instead. My sobs were amplified by the bathroom’s acoustics. “Good,” I thought to myself. “Now he’ll feel really bad.”
It was day five of our honeymoon and I just couldn’t take it anymore. Nothing was going according to plan–my plan that is.
Take our first breakfast in Hawaii, for example. My new husband excused himself from the table for a minute; I assumed to wash his hands. Instead, he returned with the sports section of the USA Today. He didn’t longingly look across the table into my eyes as the lead in a romantic movie would do. No, he read the scores.
Our marriage was doomed.