Why It Matters Whom You Marry

Today, I posted a link to an old article from the Christian Pundit on my Facebook page titled, "It Matters Whom You Marry."  Obviously, as a single 32 year old, I am acutely aware of this fact.  The decision to marry has never been something I've taken lightly.  If it were, I'd probably be married (and divorced) by now.

Why do I say that?


 There was a time in my late 20's when I thought I'd found "the one."  Of course, looking back now, I can see the obvious errors in my thought process.... but well... love can be blind.  Not only that, but at that point in my life, I was feeling particularly vulnerable and alone.  I was in DC on my own, in a job I disliked, with a freshly broken heart, and the man in question here was my only tie to home.  He knew me.  He knew me very well, and he knew exactly what to say and do to open my heart and clear a space for himself.

At that time, I had a plan-- a timetable.   I wanted to be married with a baby by 30.  He fit right into that natural progression.  He said he wanted the same things I did (as long as I gave him only girls.  Not sure how I was going to engineer that, but hey).  So he asked.  And I answered.  And the rest is history.

I said yes.... but it was for all the wrong reasons.... and to the completely wrong person...all because I had an idea of what I wanted my life to be.  I see a lot of people in their late 20's or older who get married because they are chasing an idea, or a dream, or because they think they are getting too old to have a family.  They think to themselves that if they can just find someone who fits nicely into their current life, who they can tolerate, and who wants relatively the same things, that they are not settling.  They are accomplishing something.  Achieving a goal.  Fulfilling a dream.

You might be achieving a goal by being married, but if one of your other goals is to have a happy, long-lasting, loving marriage AND a fantastic friendship with your partner, you had better be sure you are marrying the right person.  Thing 1 does not always lead to Thing 2.

It does matter whom you marry.

1.  It affects you spiritually.

I chose to become engaged to a non-Christian.  I'm not saying that Christians and non-Christians can't marry, or that it is not the right decision for some people... but it was not the right decision for me.  As a woman, and as a person, I need a man who will hold me accountable to my commitments and who will allow me to do the same for him.  I need someone who will pray with me and who I know is always praying for me; someone with whom I have complete comfort in studying and discussing the Bible; and someone who is going to continually encourage me to put God first and to use my life in constant service to others.


The person I chose was not only a non-Christian, but a person blatantly opposed to any type of organized religion.  He often made fun of me when I went to church.  He did attend with me a couple of times, but later used it as a bargaining chip... "Well, I went to church with you, so you should do this and that for me."  As the months passed, I found myself agreeing to break commitments to God and to my spiritual family because he asked.  I found myself reading my Bible less.  I found myself in prayer less.  If I was honest with myself, I felt distance growing between God and me.  If my timetable baby had been born at that time, I wonder now how I would have agreed to raise her-- if she would have had a church home, if she would have had a Bible.  I like to think I would have raised her to know God, but it's hard to introduce someone to God if your own relationship with Him is strained.

2.   It affects you emotionally.

I have always been and will always be an emotional person.  Words people say and things they do often affect me on a deep level.  And when I have an emotion, I'm the type of person who needs to talk it out.  If I choose not to say anything about what I'm feeling, sometimes it can affect everything I do.  I can't always think clearly.  My relations with others are strained.... and I can walk around all day achey or angry or sad from the emotion that is fermenting in my heart.  I just need to let it out.  I need someone who will listen to my feelings-- REALLY listen-- without telling me that they're unwarranted or silly.  I need someone who will offer his advice when I ask, but who understand that sometimes, all I need is to be heard.

The person I chose did not like it when I felt things.  He did not like it when I needed to talk.  He often told me that I needed to find "a better way of coping" than coming to him... and that my feelings were silly for an otherwise rational person.  Two years of similar interactions with this individual have drastically changed the way that I communicate my thoughts and feelings to guys who interest me.  In fact, the guy who I currently care for very deeply was listening to me early Monday morning as I explained an issue that I was having with another friend and how it made me feel.  He had listened to me for about 10 minutes explain how I felt I needed to cut this person from my life because of what was going on.  When I had said my peace, he tried to empathize by saying that he was sorry that the situation happened and that it had upset me... but I literally cut him off mid-sentence, because I found myself thinking I was being too needy... and that he really shouldn't care to hear about this.  That wasn't fair to him.  He was doing what he knew I needed and offering me an ear and a (proverbial) shoulder.  But because I have trained myself to be afraid to voice my own emotions, it's hard for me to accept when someone offers me the chance to be myself and let them out.

3.  It affects you physically.

a) Money
The person I chose did not have a job.  He did not make money.  That in and of itself is not necessarily a deal breaker; however, he said he could not look for a job, because he was in school.  He asked me for money all of the time--for groceries, for school, for his phone bill-- and because I loved him, I gave it to him.... even though I was receiving money from my parents just to stay afloat myself.  At a time in my life when I should have been saving some money because I was living with a roommate, I was losing money, because I was funneling everything I could to him.

The man I marry doesn't have to make a lot of money.  He does not have to support me.  I can work and support myself.  But I do need someone who will make an effort.  Whether he works in an office building, at a carwash, or at Pizza Hut... I don't care.  I just need someone who works hard and who wants to contribute to the family we have decided to make-- even if it's just the two of us.

b) Your body and Sex
At the time that I chose to say yes, I wanted to save our sexual relationship for marriage, because that is where the Bible intends it to be.  This was a huge point of contention between the two of us.  This person knew that I had been sexually active in the past and did not understand why waiting until marriage mattered to me.  He would try to get me as drunk as possible when we were alone, knowing that I would always agree to more when my inhibitions were down. I never really thought much about this, because I was a willing participant, but once, I actually passed out, and woke up very sore and in a compromising position.  I was face down in what appeared to be my own vomit.  I could not remember anything that happened.  To this day, all I know is the version of events he gave me.

This person also slapped me.  It was only once, but still I remember it very vividly.  He had made us dinner--the only time a man has ever cooked for me.  I can still tell you what we ate.  Pork chops, rice and vegetables, a salad, and Yellowtail Cabernet.  As we were finishing dinner, he noticed on his phone that his scores for the Legal Ethics exam had come in (the test lawyers must pass before sitting for the Bar).  He checked his score and was upset because it wasn't the score he needed to sit for a certain state.  I tried to console him, telling him that he could take it again, that I understood where he was coming from, and that we could study together for the next one.  Mid sentence, he glared at me, and the next thing I knew his hand fell hard across my face, "You don't get it, " he said.  "Just shut up."  And shut up, I did.  I went straight to my bedroom and locked the door, which he eventually coaxed me to open for him with the right amount of apology.  Don't think it was right away though.  I cried alone in there for a good 30 minutes while he chatted on the phone as though nothing was amiss.  I was having emotions then anyway.  Ain't nobody got time for that.

The man I marry will respect me and my body.  He will not do anything to hurt me.  He will not touch me without my consent.  No matter how angry I make him, he will not hit me.  My body will always be mine first, but his second, with my permission.  Because he loves me, he will love my body, and he will treat it accordingly, because like all of our bodies, it is a gift from God.  And we will be having a lot of sex.... and it will be good.

4.  It will affect you mentally.

When I was with this person, I was worried all of the time: worried about money; worried about sex; worried about the future; worried about our life.  From the above points, you should be able to see why .  The person I marry should be a source of strength for me.  I'm not saying that marriage will be worry-free; I know it won't.  But I should be able to talk to him about my worries, and he should be able to confess his.  We should be able to lean on each other and on God for strength even in the hardest times.  If the person you marry is constantly a reason for your worry, it is very difficult to express that to him or to lean on him for strength.  And if your relationship with God is suffering too, who do you have to lean on but your already-exhausted self?

5.  It will affect you relationally.

I couldn't lean on my family or my friends during the tough times either.  They did not agree with the person I had chosen, and could see how much it was changing me.  He encouraged me just to cut them out, maintaining that the thoughts they were planting about him in my head were the real source of worry and strife in my life, and that once he proved to them he was here to stay, they'd come around.

The man I marry needs to love my family.  This is very important, because they are important to me... and even if he doesn't share the same enthusiasm for all of my family and friends as I do, he needs to do and say things that encourage and foster my own relationships with them.  When you marry someone, you do marry into a family, so it's at least important that both parties know and can live with exactly whom they are choosing to associate themselves.

I really think that everything in this list comes back to the 1st point-- the spiritual effects of marriage.  If you love God and you marry someone who you know truly loves and serves God:
1.  They will be your spiritual accountability partner
2.  They will take the necessary role in your family's spiritual life
3.  They will want to contribute financially to the family
4.  They will listen to your thoughts, worries, and concerns, and you will make decisions together, keeping God in mind
5. They will respect you and your body
6.  They will make an effort to have relationships with your family and friends, and to help you cultivate the relationships that you need for your own personal growth.

Of course, I'm not saying that there are not Christians who don't fail at these aspects of marriage, but if someone is truly living with service to God in mind, many of the positive tenants of marriage will be part and parcel of how they already conduct themselves.



        

Black coffee....

She woke up as the sun started to gleam through the windows, leaving small slats of light streaming onto her yellow green comforter.

She rubbed her eyes, still itchy and raw from all of the crying she had done the night before.  As if on autopilot, her right hand moved down, and she found herself twisting the loose ring on her left ring finger in a slow, methodical motion.  The only comfort to her was the feel of the cold metal against the hot, splotchy nervousness of her skin.

She had told him when he proposed that she didn't want a ring.  They couldn't afford it.  She had begged him just to throw on shoes and run to Walmart, and they could spend a few quarters on a superhero decoder ring in one of those gumball machines... and that would be it.

He knew she belonged to him.  She was sure.  He'd known it for years.  Even in the times he'd treated her like another man's girlfriend, she had stuck around.  But he insisted, she had to have something to prove to the world that she was his... so he had taken the ring off his own finger...an Irish claddagh ring he had gotten from his grandmother... and placed it on her hand.

It fit so loosely that she was afraid to wear it much.  It wasn't hers anyway, and she wanted to save for the sapphire and diamond wedding band more fitting of her own personality.  Her parents didn't know; neither did many of her friends.  They kept warning her that even dating him was a mistake, so how could she tell anyone that he'd asked her to marry him?

She had known, she thought, where his feelings really lay.  They were evident, face up and trembling on the pillow next to her,  when they had laid there together in that very room, naming their children, planning out their lives in the city, searching on the internet for job prospects for him once he finished school.  As she thought back to those conversations, her head began to ache.  

What were they?  Empty words.  Her mouth went dry, and her stomach felt achily hollow.  It was over.  He had told her last night that he couldn't give her the love and support that she needed.  When she had asked if there was someone else, he had said, "No, but I'd like there to be."  Just like that, words of goodbye had replaced words of forever, and their stench hung in the air, burning her nostrils as she felt the tears starting to well.  Again.

She buried her head in the pillow next to her.  It still smelled like him, Irish Spring soap and cigarettes, laced with a hint of regret. 

______________________________________________________________________________

She woke up as the sun started to gleam through the windows, leaving small slats of light streaming onto her yellow green comforter.

She seemed to dream about that morning every year around this time.  October 8, 2009.   The day they were to marry.  So many years ago, and yet in her dreams, the sting of her sweat and tears still felt real.  She reached down to her left ring finger , and smiled to herself as she twisted her mother's amethyst and diamond ring in a slow, methodical motion.  She felt the warmth of unconditional love spread from her heart.  

She placed her feet on the floor and shuffled to the kitchen; her old dog following closely behind.  The wet of his nose was a comfort to her as it lapped lightly against her left calf.  She started the coffee, hooked up her speaker, and waited for Ella Fitzgerald's voice to burst into the room.  She coated the counter in flour and decided on biscuits again. Kneading the dough in her shaky hands, she began to sing softly.