We fell in love by writing letters. In fact, this giving and receiving of hand-written letters, a piece of original art that mirrors the mind and heart of the writer, became an integral part of our dating relationship. Naturally, after Rachel accepted Chad’s proposal to be married, our minds turned toward incorporating written correspondence into the fabric of our engagement and marriage. At once it was decided that, as a lasting testimony to our marriage, we would sit down to write letters to one another describing the many things we looked forward to in our married life. Alongside our dreams about a home filled with children and friends, pursuing hospitality and courageous artistry, we described the sanctifying work God would surely accomplish through our marriage:
Rachel:
“What does this mean, to learn to love someone fully, abandoning all barriers, overcoming all fears…realizing more and more my own selfishness while simultaneously becoming more and more aware of God’s grace?”
Chad:
“We stand on the threshold of a grand adventure…so many memories, stories and future friends await us. I am confident in the Lord and his provision for us, and that through one another, he will continue to make us obedient and holy.”
We had wonderful mentorship throughout our dating relationship and engagement. Through the counsel of wise couples who had preceded us on the road of marriage, we were taught to adopt the right set of expectations:
“Marriage is going to be hard work.”
“You need to invest in your spouse, especially during your first year of marriage.”
“Serve one another and put your spouse’s needs above your own.”
We had been taught that marriage, (thanks to God’s infinite wisdom and mercy) is one of the most effective relationships for renewing us in the image of Jesus Christ. And while we understood that we were entering marriage together with the best possible advice and preparation, we did not yet fully understand the sheer gravity of what marriage requires of us. Just as the apprentice may study a craft but not become skilled until he actually begins practicing the craft, so too we were filled with knowledge yet lacked the opportunity to put our wisdom to the test.
We have not been married long. In every sense of the word, we are still newlyweds. And so we don’t pretend that our advice or insights into the married life have much credibility. What we can share, though, is the lesson we continue to encounter as we happily walk through these first months of marriage. Time and time again, we have found that our marriage is the means by which we are discovering our true selves.
This implies that upon entering the marriage covenant we were clinging to false selves: our counterfeit characters. As a consequence of our past sin and circumstance, we had both created identities in which we could hide, feel safe, and pretend that we “had it all together.” Because we were so focused on self instead of other, it became impossible for us to see ourselves as we truly are. We had come to believe that the world we had constructed in which we were the most important character was reality itself.
In defiance of this self-created and perpetuated reality, on January 8th we chose to stand at the altar as living sacrifices, vowing to die to self and be an agent of God’s love and grace in the renewal of our spouse. To put to death the world of shadows we had constructed for ourselves and to begin contending with the world and one another as we really are.
Though the wedding ceremony is past, we continue to stand on the altar. Sunrise to sunset, day after day, we are requiring and required to sacrifice our defenses and paper-thin identities for the real, weighty and glorious self given to us in Christ. By submitting to one another out of love and in humility, we reveal to one another the vices from which we need to repent and the virtues in which we need to deepen our roots.
There are two vices that we continue to run against in the beginning of our marriage. As the barriers continue to come down in the Glazener home and we continue to invade the formerly impenetrable kingdom of the ego, we find that we hold these two falsehoods as gospel truth:
1) I am the most important person.
2) I am self-sufficient and perfectly capable without you.
Our marriage has revealed these particular sins as first inclinations. But marriage also is providing the means by which we can repent and be healed of this selfishness. In our marriage, we have agreed that love and submission are two sides of the same coin: you cannot submit to that which you do not love, and if you are not willing to lay down your life then you cannot claim to love.
This mutual submission reminds us that our will is not the end-all; we live in accordance with the will of one wholly other than ourselves. And to live saying “not my will, but thy will be done” quickly reveals that we are incapable of perfectly conforming our will to the will of another.
This complete renewal we are after will cost us everything. On our wedding day, we stood hand and hand on the altar, vowing to sacrifice ourselves to our love. Our vows “until death do us part” still ring in our ears; death is not merely our final separation. Death, that total surrendering of body, mind and soul to another person created in the image of God, is also the place we begin. For as our master teaches us, it is only in giving that we receive. It is only in death that we receive a whole and happy life. And in God’s great mercy, he has given us to one another to be the agents of this renewal. Surprising us in those small moments in which we hear the voice of God through our spouse, or we see his loving gaze in the eyes of the beloved. We taste his love, his mercy, and his forgiveness through one another. And so we rejoice that our old, selfish selves are being killed by love, because we steadfastly cling to the hope that our final renewal is coming.
