We Aren’t Compatible

            Let me be perfectly clear: We aren’t compatible.

            He’s tall; I’m short. He’s brainy, and I’m practical.  He can tell you half dozen events that took place in 1952, 1967, 1982, or almost any other year you choose. I have trouble remembering what I did last Tuesday. I’ve seen him shed two tears during the decades I’ve known him. He’s seen me cry buckets. He likes coffee; I drink tea.

            College? I plugged away to get my degree. Scholarships? What are those? He got a full ride for four years.  We’re going away? I’ll drive, please. But he can out walk me any day. Need a splinter out? Ask me, not him. He’ll never be able to see it. I tend to think I’m right; he’s more open to ideas and perspectives.  He hates to shop; I’m a label reader.

            In the kitchen? Please get out of my way because I’m going to cook up a storm. Hand him a can opener so he can get at the pasta.  Lunch for him—whatever will do. For me—veggies, please.

            You see, we aren’t compatible.

            He reads a book a week; I plod for weeks. He knows about entertainers, authors, philosophers, historians. I traffic in enzymes, vitamins, food, and recipes. He talks less than I do (what a surprise), unless it’s late at night when he might get animated.  I talk during the day and give him dirty looks when he gets chatty late. I’m processing through problems rapidly while he takes a slow train to I-don’t-know-where.  He’s a “phlegmatic,” and I weigh in as a “melancholy.” Often we don’t see eye-to-eye.

            Look at all this. We just aren’t compatible!

           

           

            Yes, its’ true that we aren’t compatible. Is any couple? What my husband and I are, however, is committed. We are committed to staying together until God separates us. We are committed to helping, encouraging, and supporting each other. We are committed to being better together than separately, and how true that is. We want to bring out the best in each other, for the other to grow spiritually, personally, intellectually, and emotionally.

            We have no interest in competing with each other. When he succeeds, or I succeed, WE succeed. I wouldn’t have done, even ventured, half the things I’ve done without his support. He wouldn’t have ridden out the storms of his life as well without me, and when I’ve needed him, he was there for me.  We’ve hit the wall together, picked each other up, prayed for each other, gone to counseling together, and fought for each other.

            We’re committed.

            We aren’t second guessing our choice. We believe that God put us together and can and will keep us together. Shopping around, in any way, is out of the question. Who knows all of the stories, the things that we say that convey a world of meaning because of our shared experiences? Who knows the things that can take us down because of memories that linger and sometimes torment? We know it’s the person we’re married to.

            Being married and staying married is a walk of faith. Our culture lies to us about marriage.  It’s  not an easy road. Dying to yourself never is. Marriage is hard work. But just like hard work, there’s great reward in talking, submitting, loving, sacrificing, being true to your vows, and honoring the commitment of marriage. It’s worth it. As my husband and celebrate thirty years together on Tuesday, I can say it’s worth it. And I say that even though I still have to work at being married because.  .  .

            We aren’t compatible; we’re committed!