Interestingly enough, folks who don’t know us that well assume that in our marriage, there’s some balance of power that swings wildly in one direction or another. Either my husband is leading me around by the nose, keeping me barefoot, pregnant, and locked in the kitchen, or else I’m wearing the pants, cooking up grand schemes like moving to Nepal, and trying to find a way to wedge another little one into our bursting-at-the-seams house.
The truth is that while I do defer to my husband (I’m in the camp that doesn’t find “submit” to be a dirty word), there’s a whole lot of give and take that takes place here. And on the big things? Well, that’s where we strive for unity.
Unity is often thought of as the unicorn of marriage: a mythical creature, something prayed for, something sought … but something rarely found. After all, doesn’t everyone struggle with some issue? A quick survey of wives almost always turns up a handful of areas where discord is present:
“We totally disagree on how to discipline our kids.”
“I want to have another baby, but my husband says no way.”
“Help! I feel convicted to homeschool, but my husband is totally against it!”
“We go to the church my husband grew up in, but it does nothing for me.”
“I want to throw the video games out the window, and my husband thinks I’m nuts.”
Husbands have their own set of concerns. And somewhere between the two conflicting points of view, we assume that there’s no peace to be found. Someone is dying to self every day, every moment, to give the other person the thing that they want … or don’t want. Someone’s dreams are dying, someone’s heart is being stomped on, someone isn’t getting what would make then happiest. So we assume that this submission gig is misery.
And you know, it just might be. Giving up a dream is a hard, ugly thing that reveals us for the toddlers we are. Me? I always wanted a farm. Not a huge farm (I’m not greedy, after all.) Just a little plot of land, say 10 acres, where I could have a big garden, a few animals, and a weathered old farmhouse to call my own. Nothing fancy, mind you. A place to can applesauce from my own trees, maybe. A place where I could get milk from my own cow. Maybe even a place to spin my own yarn. This was my dream. And it was a good dream. It doesn’t hurt anyone. As a matter of fact, I can line it right up with Scripture. All I want, Lord, is to live out Genesis 1:28! I want to be fruitful, and multiply! I want to subdue the creatures! Surely you’re in that, right?
Except … He isn’t.
What He is in is leading my husband to train church planters in Nepal– a place we can’t ever hope to own property, let alone raise a little flock of Merinos. He’s created a passion in my husband that is all-consuming, that gives him both joy and purpose. I watch my husband light up as he catalogs his experiences there, his love for the people, his heart for sharing Jesus. This? This is his dream.
Which gives me a choice. I can either stomp my feet, set my jaw against my husband (and God) and demand my right to a farm and tell my husband that his heart does not matter …
Or I can walk forward knowing that the desires of my heart spoken of in Psalm 37:4 sometimes take a while to look like anything you’d ever desire, let alone treasure in your heart.
I chose unity.
Here’s the truth: while I was 100% on board with my family joining the ranks of those working towards the spread of the gospel, my idea of what it looked like was far different than God’s. In my mind, I could have my cake and eat it, too. After all, there are both unsaved folks and farmland in huge swaths of the world. Why wouldn’t God choose to give both my husband and me our little slices of heaven right here on earth? When it became more and more clear that the door that was opening wasn’t leading to a place that offered the pastoral view I was dreaming of, I struggled. For as long as I could recall, I had always seen myself as a person who’d end up on a porch swing breaking beans and watching kids chase chickens. Who was this new person God was showing me? How could I let go of what I had always seen, of what I had held sacred in my heart? How could I give up my vision of what my life would turn out like?
Ephesians 5:21 says we submit out of reverence to Christ. We do not submit because our significant others deserve it. (Quick disclaimer: submitting to physical, emotional, or spiritual abuse is NOT Biblical.) We don’t submit because we expect reward. We don’t submit so that next time we get our way. We don’t submit to keep the peace, or to martyr ourselves, or to be Good Christians.
We submit because our life is not our own in the first place, and those promised desires of our heart? Well … how many times have you learned that the thing you never thought to ask for, the thing you maybe even fought against opening your hands to … that thing was one of the greatest blessings of all?
Which brings us back to unity. Unity is not a fictional beast. It’s not a lost art, nor is it an uncomfortable, unsteady peace that requires us to hold our tongues just right in order to find. Unity is, I believe, the fruit of the submission of the heart. Unity is the desire to out God’s vision first– before our own sacred cows, before our own “wants” parading as needs.
Unity is the place where two people have found trust, love, and respect, and can allow one another the grace of not plowing over one another’s hearts in the pursuit of their own way. Unity says, “I would love another child, but I love you more than my dream.” Unity says, “Honey, I hear your concerns about homeschooling and I want to honor that. Can we maybe meet with friends who are in the trenches to talk about your fears. And if you’re still reluctant, I promise to not raise this issue again.” Unity says, “We each discipline the kids differently. And that’s o.k.”
I wasted a good number of my early years of marriage fighting not the enemy of my soul, but my very own beloved husband. Driven by fear, I clung to my “rights” and “needs” … and nearly tore apart the very fabric of my marriage. My prayer is that others will walk with more wisdom than I did through those prickly places, and will come out all the more blessed for it.
I link up posts with these wonderful hosts: Diamonds in the Rough, Life in a Breakdown, Sunday Best Showcase, Teach Beside Me, Finishing Strong, Mama Moment Monday, The Modest Mom, Mama Moments Mondays, Monday’s Musings,Making Your Home Sing Monday, Playdates at the Wellspring, A Pinch of Joy, Titus 2sday, Titus 2 Tuesday, Growing Homemakers, Babies & Beyond, Teaching What is Good, Missional Call, Essential Things, Create With Joy, Hope in Every Season, For the Kids Fridays, Preschool Creations, Pin Me Party, Learn & Link, Frugal Homeschool Friday.