Divorce was once such a scandal that families didn’t mention it. In fact, during my childhood, I never knew my father had been married and divorced — and even had a child — before marrying my mom.
Today it’s hard to meet someone whose life hasn’t been touched by divorce, especially children. The term “broken home” is tragically fitting because despite the parents’ best efforts, children generally suffer when mom and dad break up.
Problem is, many couples believe marriage should always be fun — and when it falls short of the mark, they call it quits.
But as someone approaching 33 years of wedlock, let me assure you every marriage has adventures and joy, but also stretches of dreariness and tribulation.
Movies often show us wives springing from bed with lipstick on and wrapping themselves in a silken robe before merrily heading to the kitchen. There, they whip up waffles for children who wax witty and wonderful even in the wee hours.
Reality features mom in a bedraggled bathrobe presiding over grumpy kids bickering about whose turn it is to walk the dog. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to anyone, Rover has seized the opportunity to swipe the baby’s buttered biscuit, and the little one is screaming bloody murder.
My parents’ marriage was far from Hollywood perfect. In the early years, there were anguished arguments about money — which was scarce — and my mother’s desire to stay home with her daughters, which didn’t happen.
Some people get disillusioned and head off to “find themselves” — which often means a futile quest to recapture days when waistlines were wispier, hair thicker and the car snazzier than the standard mommy van.
But Jesus gave us a different perspective when he said, “If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.”
We often picture the cross as a shattering medical diagnosis, the death of a sweetheart or a descent into poverty — but there can be miniature crosses as well.
A little cross may be the wife who splurges recklessly at the mall, the husband who can’t pry himself away from the TV and a toddler who pitches ferocious fits at the grocery store.
As for me, I love my husband dearly, but sometimes he lectures instead of conversing — which drives me to distraction — and sometimes he stubbornly refuses to take advice even when it’s gently offered.
Self-denial means shouldering these annoyances with grace and humor — and recognizing that your idiosyncrasies are probably equally maddening to someone else.
As for the payoff for carrying the little crosses that come with marriage, a faithful husband and wife won’t make the cover of a glossy magazine or walk away with a gold trophy.
But maybe if we’re fortunate enough, we’ll find ourselves at the Pearly Gates and hear a voice say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” In other words, you persevered, you ran the race, you kept the home together — and you did the right thing.
