The Bomb of Marriage

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap . . . . And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. (Gal. 6:7-9)

My Dearest Daughters,

When you plant a gourd, you cannot expect to harvest a pineapple. You will always reap what you sow, and marriage is no different. Whatever you take time to plant into your marriage will spring forth, and you will harvest far more than you planted, whether those seeds were good or harmful.

When we plant a single grape seed, we gather clusters and clusters of grapes. Such is the nature of our investment into marriage. So let’s take a closer look at this process.

I would like to begin with a quote I love from Mike Mason. My father read this at my own wedding:

“Like God Himself, then, marriage comes with a built-in abhorrence for self-centeredness. In the utopias of humankind’s complacent separateness amidst all of our fantasies—fantasies of omnipotence and blamelessness and self-sufficiency—marriage explodes like a bomb. It runs an aggravating interference pattern, an unrelenting guerrilla warfare against selfishness. It attacks people’s vanity and lonely pride in a way that few things can, tirelessly exposing the necessity of giving and sharing, as well as the absurdity of blaming. Angering, humiliating, melting, chastening, purifying, it touches us where we hurt most—in the place of our lovelessness.”

I love this quote because if we truly want to become selfless as God is selfless, then by all means, get married, expecting the bomb of marriage to explode on your selfishness.

Your marriage will be miserable if you spend all your time trying to preserve yourself. But it will be beautiful if your desire is to break out of those confines, the bars and chains of selfishness, and explode into the world, the heavenly world of love, joy, and peace.

I have experienced love, joy, and peace in my marriage beyond anything I ever dreamed possible—but it has certainly waged war on my self-centeredness. Sometimes it nibbles away at it. Other times, it explodes like dynamite.

Every time a crying baby wakes you in the night, say, Thank You, God, for another arrow in the flesh of my selfishness.

Every time your husband needs your presence, say, Thank You, God, for another chain broken—another link falling away in the chains of loneliness.

It’s not comfortable as long as we’re living for self, but it’s euphoric when we’re escaping that bondage.

So every day, invest in what you hope to harvest in your marriage.

When you wake up feeling gloomy and overwhelmed, don’t say so. Say, I love you. What would you like for breakfast?

When you’re frustrated with messy children and fingerprinted windows, plant a small seed of patience and say, Would you like to learn how to wash windows today? It’s a fun job!

When you feel unnoticed or taken for granted, plant a seed of generosity and say, How can I serve you today? Even a small offering of the heart invites a harvest of love.

When words feel painful and your heart braces for battle, plant a seed of humility and say, I trust you. Help me better understand. That one seed can disarm a war.

Thus, sowing patience and love into your morning will reap peace in your evening—and love and patience will spring forth in your children, your friends, and in your spouse.

Love,

Mom