Celebrating Marriage Even in the Struggle

“Maybe it’s OK that we’re struggling. Maybe it’s enough that we’re committed. Maybe we need to celebrate that we’ve survived together for more than twenty years…that we’re committed to trying to make it better. ” (Cindee Snider Re)

FIVE THINGS I’M LEARNING ABOUT MARRIAGE WITH CHRONIC ILLNESS

Our marriage is a redemption story. We weren’t unfaithful. We didn’t stray physically or emotionally but we did lose our way. We forgot to reach for one another when the storms of life began to roll, so we drifted farther and farther apart. We stopped dreaming together, lost our ability to communicate, and survived as a couple only because we were both committed. We didn’t feel loving towards each other. Some days, we didn’t even like each other, but we were committed.

So we slogged on, slowly buried by the stress of raising four seriously ill kids in their teens and early twenties and managing life with my own serious illness. Most days, we were all just trying to survive.

Maybe it was OK that we were struggling. Maybe it was enough that we were committed. Maybe we needed to learn to celebrate that we had survived together for more than twenty years through incredibly difficult circumstances. Maybe it was enough that we were committed to improving our relationship.

COMMUNICATION, FORGIVENESS, AND FEELINGS

Somewhere along the way, my husband and I lost sight of each other. His life was consumed by work and mine by the medical needs of our family: dozens of specialists, medications, treatments, and procedures, prolonged hospital stays, insurance appeals, and homeschooling five kids through high school.

The kids and I lived a life my husband knew less and less about. He didn’t understand our medical conditions and the more difficult our home life became, the more he poured himself into work. Our kids grew outspoken about his absence, which only distanced us further, and somewhere along the way, bitterness crept into my heart. With our marriage crumbling and our kids’ lives spinning out of control, Tony retired early, coming home to help. Six months later, he looked at me and said, “I knew our kids were sick, that you’re sick, but I had no idea what you were all going through. I lived here … and I had no idea.”

I, too, needed to accept my role in our broken relationship. I had stopped communicating, trying to explain, and asking for help, and I had distanced my husband further. The more unneeded he felt, and harder he poured himself into work. Before our marriage could heal, we both had to learn to forgive.

MAKING TIME FOR ONE ANOTHER

Time became a non-negotiable in our healing journey. With our marriage at the breaking point, we committed to dinner out (in the same booth in the same restaurant) every Thursday evening for a year. Those early dinners were painful, uncomfortable, and awkward. Some nights, we barely spoke; some nights, we argued, and some nights, it took everything in me to stay in that booth all the way through dinner.

Slowly, things changed. One night, we talked without impatience or frustration. On another, we reminisced about the days before sickness turned our world upside down. As spring warmed into summer, we stumbled our way through all kinds of conflicting emotions, and we began to laugh, talk about what hurt, and bravely share our hopes again. Some Thursdays, we left the restaurant smiling, and some nights, the tears were good.

One month, we braved an overnight getaway, just 24 hours, but it was good. A few months later, we got away again for 24 uninterrupted, unhurried, and unscheduled hours.

Out time together was not a luxury, but a necessity. We needed time to heal and reboot our marriage.

INTIMACY IS HOLY GROUND

I wish I’d understood the importance of intimacy so much sooner in our marriage. After three decades, Giving ourselves to one another is a vulnerable and deeply beautiful experience, fostering greater forgiveness and more grace toward each other than any other aspect of our relationship. We enjoy one another more after three decades of marriage than we did as newlyweds. Intimacy is a gift, and when we unconditionally accept one another as-is, it becomes a precious and holy experience.

DIFFERENCES ARE GOOD!

This is something we are still learning. We bring different gifts to our marriage, and those differences are GOOD. My husband sees the big picture. I see the details. Sometimes, he leaps with limited information; sometimes, I’m trapped in the minutia. He is spontaneous. I need time to prepare. He is gifted at small talk and making people feel welcome. I am good one-on-one and in deep conversations. My husband loves food. I eat to survive. Together, we bring a breadth and depth to our relationship we wouldn’t experience apart. The ways we solve conflict, handle money, use our time, deal with pain, handle illness, work through stress, celebrate holidays, dream, eat, and care for others are different – but those differences, while sometimes challenging, are also really good. We are so much better together.

REDEEMING OUR MARRIAGE

To redeem means to buy back, to free from harm or distress, to renew. It has taken years, but my husband and I have found our way back to each other. Our circumstances haven’t changed, but we talk and laugh together again. We lean toward one another when the storms roll in. We dream together, walk together, and pray together. We also still misunderstand each other, miscommunicate sometimes, and unintentionally hurt one another. Sometimes, I still interrupt and “talk over” my husband. Sometimes, he still gets quiet and checks out but we talk about the frustrations when they are small. These days, there is more laughter than criticism, more compassion than impatience, more standing together than going it alone.

We will always be imperfect people, living in an imperfect world, committed to an imperfect marriage, surrounded by imperfect people. Illness will always be part of our story on this side of the veil, and grief will continue to add its shadows, but we will lean toward each other when things get hard; we will continue to laugh together, walk together, and love one another until God calls us home.