
Newlywed bliss never reached the Garland household. Our first year was hard (and miserable) at times.
We were navigating all the everyday challenges, like learning to tolerate each other’s quirky habits about leaving toothpaste caps unscrewed and refusing to use a thick bed comforter.
But I was also plagued with undiagnosed Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (which spikes during significant life changes, like marriage). Meanwhile, my husband decided to quit his well-paying job to return to school full-time and pursue a new career. (At this time, I was working for a non-profit and making zilch.) To top it all off, we experienced the death of a relative we dearly loved.
Needless to say, the stressors piled high. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually, financially, and even physically, my husband and I were worn out.
We were living in a new town without a church home or community, and it was far too easy to heap all of our frustrations, anxieties, and anger on one another. Truth be told, I was the primary aggressor, feeling the overwhelm of an unnamed mental anguish and the pressure to pick up an additional two part-time jobs to keep the mortgage paid while my husband returned to school.
This Is It?
I share all this baggage to say that I distinctly recall thinking to myself, “This is all marriage is?” I remember wondering why I was ridiculously excited and desperate for marriage when it was nothing but more stress. It was just one more relationship that required responsibility and sacrifice. Though there were sweet moments and memories we reminisce about today, I quickly discovered that finding Mr. Right isn’t the finish line.
Society might want a woman to believe that finding her soulmate will complete her and grant her the worth and confidence she’s never seemed to have. But that’s nothing more than an emotionally driven, well-crafted lie.
We’re buying into the marketed idea that an imperfect human being with selfish flesh will flawlessly model the fantastical, modern version of knights and nobles we read about and see in works of fiction. The lie is everywhere in books and films crafted by writers to paint a picture we can’t find anywhere in reality.
That’s what makes the lie so sellable. It’s an entertaining escape with an appeal saturated in so much “promise” that we’ve bought the storyline as a plausible end goal. So when the joke’s on us, when we’ve taken the bait and found ourselves trapped in disappointment because our script wasn’t built on a perfect protagonist, resentment builds inside us. Cynicism takes hold.
You and I both know that never ends well.
Wait, There’s More
Rather than a romantic partner, it’s the sustaining, strong, good hand of the Savior that offers our fulfillment, not just in this life but throughout eternity. He’s the only source. There is no alternative to the peace, purpose, and perfection found in Christ Jesus.
This can be hard to hear when we feel desperately lonely as a single person, or when we want joy to return to our marriage, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned through the years of ups and downs my husband and I have experienced, it’s that he and I can’t “fix” each other.
We can uplift, encourage, and challenge one another, and those are all good things. But the deep, personal work that makes me a better partner is found only when I stop finger-pointing and ask God to reveal my heart and cleanse me of the faults I habitually bring to the relationship.
In this humble work, I find Christ. And when I see more of who Christ is and His plan for my life, the more I discover fulfillment. The more fulfilled I am, the better wife I can be.
But what does discovering and preserving this fulfillment practically look like, especially in seasons when your marriage feels boring or rocky?
1. It’s Understanding the Humanity of Your Partner
One of the main reasons our newlywed fights went from bad to worse was because my overly active, serotonin-imbalanced brain wanted all fights to be resolved the instant they happened. I wanted everything immediately fixed so he and I could move on. But when our arguments started right before bed, that wasn’t the best time to hash out all the emotions and kickstart long-winded lectures.
By ten at night, my husband is checked out. He’s not in a cognitively strong place to host a healthy conversation to flesh out deep marital hurts. Thus, I had to not only recognize but truly understand that his body needs plenty of rest to tackle an emotionally intense disagreement. I had to learn to pause an argument and reevaluate the next morning when he was in a better headspace.
So often, we force marital fulfillment into an impossible box where both parties are flawless. Thus, we become disappointed and impatient when we have to honor our spouse's humanity and not demand that they have unlimited mental, emotional, physical, and even spiritual capacity to meet all our needs (and wants).
When you realize that your partner is an everyday human with limited resources, like me, you, and everyone else on this planet, you’re able to give them grace and space. The more you accept their humanity, the more you realize they fight battles just like you and need the same grace and patience you ask of them.
2. It’s Pursuing Christ Together
For the first five to six years of marriage, my husband and I did our spiritual growth separately. It was private and personal for both of us. However, after having our first son and recognizing the new challenges parenthood brings, we naturally (or supernaturally) gravitated towards being more open about our faith with one another.
Chats in the car turned into some of our most profound questions about the character of God, how to righteously discipline our child, and how we could better honor the call to love, support, and sacrifice for one another.
In fact, just a year ago, my husband and I became small-group leaders for a young-families group at our church. We understood the spiritual need for community among families with newborns, babies, and toddlers, but when no one else was available to lead, my husband stepped up. Now, each week, our home is filled with young parents, crying babies, wild toddlers, yummy food, laughter, and God’s Word.
Pursuing Christ with my husband, whether through hard, intimate conversations in the car or the outward service of loving others and serving the local church, has radically shifted our marriage.
We are no longer looking to one another to fulfill ourselves. We naturally find that sense of purpose in Jesus. And the more we pursue that purpose as a couple, the more our thought patterns align, and our frustrations don’t end in ugly arguments. Thus, mutual respect and a willingness to sacrifice for one another are beautiful byproducts.
Do we still argue and grow impatient with one another? Just come to my house after my husband has “helped” with the laundry or when I've forgotten to take my OCD meds… we aren’t perfect as individuals or in our marriage. But there’s a new sense of prolonged suffering that flows much freer than when we were first married.
Christ’s Unity
Christ is a unifier, but only on the foundation of truth. Unity without truth is devoid of meaning. It’s directionless. And it certainly doesn’t offer fulfillment. So when we look to our spouse for fulfillment, believing the lie that another human can satisfy our souls, we are living under a shaky roof.
But by recognizing the humanity of our partner and pursuing Christ alongside them, we find our soul’s worth in an internal, dependable God. Our hearts’ joy is rooted in such peace that we are immovable throughout life’s highs and lows. That’s what makes marriage not only beautiful but so worth it.
Photo courtesy: ©Thinkstock/jacoblund


