If you ever get a hankering to run a marathon, I suggest you check it off your list in your twenties instead of waiting until you’re much older. I know. I ran my first one the year I turned fifty.
I realize that for many people, the idea of running 26.2 miles for no other reason than to say they did never crosses their minds. When you start talking about wanting to do such a thing, total strangers often feel compelled to put their hand on your forehead to see if, perhaps, you’ve taken ill.
The first inclination I had to run a marathon started to heat up in my midforties. Up to that point, the only reason I could think of for running that far was if someone was chasing me. But the idea nonetheless slipped into my mind, simmered for several years, and then started screaming like a teapot that had finally hit the magic temperature. I announced to Darcy and my kids at a dinner late one evening in December that I was going to run a marathon the next year. Five hands immediately went to my forehead.
I had decided that if I was going to do what had to be done to get ready, why not make sure there was a great destination waiting for me? It’s hard to beat the Big Apple. The New York City Marathon is always the first Sunday in November. I had ten months to get ready.
A lot of good things came out of my preparation for that marathon (and the three others I ran). But above all of these things, I discovered a great illustration of marriage. It’s easy to think that marriage is a series of short, quick sprints over a long period of time. The rest of the time, we can just take it easy. The good parson tries to warn us to the contrary during our wedding ceremony with all that for-better-or-for-worse, in-sickness-and-in-health stuff. But, as I’ve said before, at the altar we’re usually young, full of ourselves, and fairly ignorant about the bigger demands of life.
Yet if anything’s a marathon, marriage sure is. It’s a demanding, lifelong arrangement that serves up all kinds of reasons to slip off the course, call a cab, and give up. But like a grand marathon, marriage is a glorious event. The planners of the New York City Marathon made sure all of us had a wonderful highlight reel tucked away in our memories when we returned home. Before we began, Mayor Giuliani welcomed us at our staging area on Staten Island. After a rousing rendition of “The Star Spangled Banner” and the explosion of cannons, we were off … across the bridge and through the historic streets of Brooklyn and Queens, to the throngs waiting for us in Manhattan, up to and through the Bronx, reentering the city to the sweet sounds of soul music in Harlem, and finally slipping into Central Park for our last miles to the finish line at Tavern on the Green.
As amazing as some of these sites were, they still must play second fiddle to the highlights God has for all of us on our marriage marathons. That is, if we do what needs to be done to prepare ourselves for the race and then manage ourselves wisely along the way.
Which brings us full circle to our discussion of the role of God’s grace in our marriage. Marriage is a protracted, often grueling, race. It has the potential to offer a great highlight reel, but you have to do some hard things to make sure you’re smiling in the pictures. When I decided I wanted to finish the New York City Marathon, I had to face some harsh realities. The first one was that if I kept doing what I had been doing and then just showed up at starting time, I was doomed. There are people who assume they can do that. They’re sitting in a bar watching the runners going by on the televised feed of the race and think, I’m in better shape than they are. Next year, that’s going to be me! So they show up. A few even brag about all the sacrifices they didn’t make and all the miles they didn’t run. Some chide about the enviable finish times they’re going to record. They’re the ones you see throwing up off the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge into New York Harbor in the first few miles of the race. They’re also the ones you see on the subways later in the day with their racing bib pinned to their shirt, but no finisher’s medal hanging around their neck.
Just like marathons, grace-filled marriages require a commitment to sacrificial changes in your life. These are coupled with a resolve to maintain these commitments throughout the duration of your race—till death us do part. On January 1 of that marathon year, I had to make some hard choices. Obviously, I would have to put a lot more miles on my running shoes than ever. I started out conservatively with full knowledge I would have to radically increase the base amount of miles I ran each week as I got closer to the starting time. By the late summer months, I knew I’d have to set aside blocks of time for running the eighteen-, twenty-, and twenty-two-mile build-up runs on weekends. I also had to commit to guarding my rest and eating carefully. A new addition to my lifestyle would be all the running magazines and websites I had to read on a regular basis, as well as the runners I’d need to confer with during my preparation. These are the things you do if you want to finish a marathon.
Besides these things, I also had to resolve to resist all the things that would tempt me to fudge on any of those January 1 decisions—things like fatigue, darkness, rain, cold, heat, fever, head colds, or desserts.
Darcy made my goal a team effort. There were lots of things she had to coordinate with me to make sure I stayed on point: meals, schedule, and the application of a lot of ice before and after long runs. She even enlisted the kids to be at key points of those really long runs to cheer me on. Unfortunately, my kids also have a sick sense of humor. On one of my pass-bys, I could hear my oldest daughter, Karis, screaming, “Run, Forrest! Run!”
Darcy and I have been learning how to take the gracious love we received from Jesus at the cross and turn it into the modus operandi of our marriage. It’s a grand plan that lets his truth guide us and his gracious heart temper us. A grace-filled marriage—where kindness, sacrifice, an outward focus, and selflessness dominate our relationship—sounds nice on paper. It’s like the website for a marathon. Anything can be made to look good online. Turning it into a reality requires a lot more than idealistic images. Especially so when we get a good look at what a grace-filled marriage looks like lived out day after day … drenched in sweat.
That’s what we’ve been doing in this book. We’ve discovered that grace takes the initiative to fill the tanks of our spouse’s need for a secure love, a significant purpose, and a strong hope. One of the best ways to meet these needs is within a climate of grace. We learned that a grace-filled atmosphere in marriage assures our spouse the freedom to be different, vulnerable, candid, and to make mistakes. What we need now is a clear understanding of what is required to make these gracious commitments a way of life.
Anyone who’s gone to a gym knows our body is made up of muscle groups. A well-rounded workout makes sure that all the muscle groups are developed. That’s what we want to do when it comes to developing the strength we need to run, as well as finish, our grace-filled marriage marathon well.
The third level of our grace-filled napkin strategy addresses the character that sustains our commitment to meeting each other’s inner needs, maintaining a climate of grace, and living for something bigger and more important than ourselves (which we’ll address in the next chapter). Good intentions cannot sustain these commitments. Nor can good wishes, good starts, or good gear. We need those hard-core, well-carved, and totally ripped character muscles that can serve us well when the course terrain turns mean, the cultural weather refuses to cooperate, and there are no people on those long, isolated stretches of the race to cheer us on.
Once again, I have good news. God hasn’t made this impossible. If you’re willing to focus on six character muscle groups as a couple, you’ll have all you need to appropriate the power of God for the long haul. That’s the interesting thing about how a relationship with God is played out. He’s willing to carry us through the tougher stuff; otherwise, he expects us to develop the spit and determination required to keep us running steady and strong—right by his side. In 1 Corinthians 9:24, the apostle Paul reminds us, “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” The “run in such a way” is referring to far more than style or speed. It encompasses all the determination, training, obedience, sacrifice, and attitude of a conscientious runner. In marriage, this is where grace-motivated character serves us so well.
There are six character muscles that will provide incredible sustainability for your marriage:
• Faith
• Integrity
• Poise
• Discipline
• Endurance
• Courage
Each muscle group is capable of enormous torque. But when spouses flex them as a combined effort—powered by the love of God and focused on living out God’s gracious heart as a couple—there’s no stopping us. When we’re willing to make sure these character muscle groups are isolated and exercised, we get to run a much more meaningful—and enjoyable—marital marathon.
It’s no secret that most people don’t keep themselves in very good shape. The excuses stretch over the horizon. But whether we’re physically fit or out of shape, they’re both the result of choices we make. One might be the default choice of not choosing the other option, but it’s still a choice. We can choose to get up with the alarm, lace on our running shoes, and take off into the early morning cold, or we can choose to hit the snooze button. Either way, we’ve made a choice. And with each option, there are either rewards or negative consequences. They, too, are the result of choices we’ve made. So when it comes to the shape we’re in, unless there are clear medical, physiological, or psychological explanations, whatever we see in the mirror is usually the product of choices we’ve made.
In the same way, whether we exercise good character or bad, whatever shows up is a result of choices we’ve made. Good choices are usually harder to make but provide a greater payoff. Poor choices are usually easier to make but come with nasty price tags. Either way, it’s our choice.
Since these are our choices, why not make good ones? In a grace-filled marriage, we take responsibility for our decisions and refuse to embrace the hogwash that would keep us from doing the sweaty, sacrificial things that grace often calls for.
In the Old Testament, Joshua was coming to the end of his days. He had loyally served Moses for forty years. Then he had served with distinction as general of Israel’s army for another forty years. In that time, God’s enemies had been dispatched, the promised land had been divided, and the people had settled down to their new Starbucks life. But Joshua could see the handwriting on the stucco. He realized that many of these people—who had been beneficiaries of God’s unwavering grace for so long—had short memories. Already they had started to sample some of the wrongheaded thinking and misdirected worship of the people they had displaced. Joshua saw them making poor choices—choices with consequences. So he laid the options out in front of them:
If serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD.
(Joshua 24:15)
As married people, we can choose the more difficult but highly rewarding route of exercising good character—or the easier but more highly priced route of rejecting God’s will for us. Either way, we’ve made a choice. But if we want God’s grace to fill our marriage, we’ve got to get serious about the sweaty effort required to turn these character muscles into a grace-filled six-pack! It’s great if we choose to do this as a couple. But regardless, each of us needs to make a decision to do it individually.
Over the years I’ve noticed that when a couple has trouble, it is always because one or both spouses have chosen not to exercise one or more of these character muscles. Likewise, when couples maintain a steady pace, sustain strong momentum when life serves them a steep hill, and keep padding forward toward the finish line, without fail, I’ve noticed that they’re flexing all six of these character muscles. Is that motivation enough for us to dive into this discussion? Let’s isolate each character muscle group and give them a good workout.
Anytime you think the Bible is serving up vague notions, you need to turn to Hebrews 11:6: “Without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.”
There’s a cause-effect dynamic between our willingness to operate with confidence in God’s almighty power and the degree to which God lets us access his pleasure. God is a good steward of his divine assets. And like any good steward, he’s careful to entrust them to people who will handle them responsibly. He makes it clear that if we want access to his pleasure—and the accompanying benefits (like the ability to tap into his grace)—we’ve got to trust him. It’s even better when we trust him as a couple.
God wants us to trust him because of his track record (which we have from the Bible and history), what he’s done for us personally (his loving, sacrificial death for us on the cross), and the way he continues to care for us. These are three huge reasons we shouldn’t waver from our confidence in him, even when life comes at us hard. When we choose to trust God, he chooses to reward us—whether immediately or in the future, it’s his call. But there is a clear consequence for not trusting him.
In Leviticus 26, God addresses the people of Israel, who had a ringside seat to observe his mighty hand. He’s just delivered them from dreadful conditions against enormous odds. They’ve felt his presence and enjoyed his blessings. They have every reason to maintain faith in him. God tells them what he will do on their behalf if they continue to trust him (as demonstrated through obedience). The list of blessings is long and wonderful. But then he explains the obvious to them. What if, after all he’s shown them, done for them, and all he’s continuing to do, they choose not to trust and obey him? The list of consequences is equally long but awful.
There’s an interesting statement right in the middle of these consequences that I think we need to take to heart both individually and as couples. God says that if you refuse to trust him, thereby disobeying him, “you will flee even when no one is pursuing you” (v. 17). That’s another way of saying, “You’ll be haunted by paranoia.” When we refuse to trust God, in spite of all the evidence he’s given us of his love, mercy, and power, our fears will take on Goliath proportions, even though no actual (or at least substantive) threat genuinely exists. One of the things that often stands out in people who refuse to trust God is how intimidated they are of things that, for the most part, are exaggerations of reality or complete figments of their imaginations. That’s a consequence of not exercising faith. God is serious about how much he wants us to trust him!
So how do you know if you truly trust him? The answer to that question is best settled by a series of other questions:
• How do you process bad news?
• How do you behave in the midst of emergencies?
• Do you find yourself fretting about money, your health, aging, or unknowns?
• How much of your prayer life is about God clearing obstacles out of your way?
• Do you allow your past sins to limit you as an individual or to tamper with you as a couple?
I think it’s obvious what the answers would sound like if you’re not functioning in a state of faith. But how would a person who truly has confidence in God’s power and grace answer these? How would you answer them if your answers represented the combined attitudes of your hearts as a couple? I think God’s Word would direct the answers to sound something like this:
• How do you process bad news? It depends. If it’s bad news as a result of something stupid we’ve done, we try our best to be quick to repent and take our lumps. If it’s just the typical bad news that goes with living on earth, it makes us sad and might even scare us some—but no one ever said we get to maintain a permanent address in Disneyland. We know God will sustain us regardless, so we choose to rest in him.
• How do you behave in the midst of emergencies? They immediately scare us. That’s why they’re called emergencies. But we know two things: they’re now our emergencies that need to be faced head-on, and although they’ve caught us off guard, they’re not a surprise to God. Even though we might be frightened by emergencies, threatened by the unknowns they create, or overwhelmed by the decisions we have to make, we know we worship a good God who has these chapters in our story completely under control. We know he’ll lead us through them.
• Do you find yourself fretting about money, your health, aging, or unknowns? Only when those problems are because of something dumb we’ve done. Then we assume the fretting is God’s conviction tugging at our hearts. If that’s the case, we need to take that issue to him and seek his forgiveness. Otherwise, these things are the game-board pieces of life. God can use all of these for our good and his glory. Frankly, we see them as opportunities to enjoy a front-row seat to his sustaining grace.
• How much of your prayer life is about God clearing obstacles out of your way? That would ruin the fun! Prayer isn’t about God making our life easy; it’s about his Spirit strengthening us as his followers … whatever may come.
• Do you allow your past sins to limit you as an individual or to tamper with you as a couple? No. What sins? They got washed downstream in that flow of blood that poured from our Savior. How could we let something control us that no longer exists? If we do, we are giving Satan the high ground in our thinking. Obviously, our faith in Christ didn’t give us amnesia. We haven’t forgotten the awful things we did. In fact, they are an ongoing reminder of how much Christ loved us. Also, their memory gives us greater mercy for people who are still trapped in their sin. But do our past sins still wield a negative influence over us? No. The price paid for those sins was precious and expensive, but that price was also paid in full. We’re not going to insult God, or his work on the cross, by giving our past folly power it no longer has.
That’s how unwavering faith in God thinks, talks, and acts.
The faith we represent as couples is not our individual faith quotients added together and divided by two. The strong faith of one spouse still gets God’s attention—even if the other spouse has no clue or interest. Paul and Silas gave this assurance to the Philippian jailer when they said, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved—you and your household” (Acts 16:31). The faith of Abraham saved the lives of his nephew Lot and Lot’s daughters (Genesis 18:23–33). Paul’s faith saved the lives of everyone with him on his perilous voyage at sea (Acts 27:21–44).
I think of a precious lady named Ruth. When she married Don, her faith hadn’t developed beyond her childhood decision. But she decided to get serious with Jesus early in their marriage. Don, however, had other ideas. He kept up his monthly dues with agnosticism while falling overboard into a sea of booze. Yet Ruth never gave up praying, trusting, and believing that God would reach her family, protect their kids, and bless her marriage. When Don was struggling with alcoholism, God protected his children from him. Here’s the happy ending: Every child put their faith in the God. Don ultimately climbed on the wagon for good. And not only did Don come to know Jesus, but he also went on to become one of Christ’s great advocates. If I were to isolate Don’s most outstanding feature as a follower of Christ, it would be his unwavering faith. He learned it from his wife.
It’s nice if we exercise the faith muscle group as a couple, but the important thing is that it’s exercised by you. God spent many occasions in the Bible saying, “Don’t be afraid.” There’s a reason he said that. It’s because, regardless of how bad, bleak, cold, or nasty things may appear, he’s got everything under control. And when we choose to rest in that reality—pursuing him spiritually all the way—he loves to reward our faith. His primary reward is a peace that passes all understanding deep within our hearts.
If you want to have a grace-filled marriage, go to God’s gym every day and work out your faith muscle.
The push-pull our culture presents in the area of integrity is interesting. On the one hand, our society assumes—and sometimes even encourages—cut corners, cooked books, and self-protection. Reality shows are made out of these things. On the other hand, if you get caught, this same culture often takes delight in wiping you out. If that isn’t proof of what the Bible says about Satan using culture to do his bidding (Ephesians 2:2), I don’t know what is.
We also live in a world that is extremely tough on people who choose to do the right thing. Years ago, when Darcy and I were a young couple, we learned of another couple our age that was experiencing a professional crisis. The husband was in sales. Part of his job required him to travel and entertain clients as guests of his company. The unspoken tradition within the sales department was that the expense reports from these outings were excellent ways to pocket a lot of extra (yet unearned) money. The sales supervisors turned a blind eye to this practice because it was what they also had done when they were part of the sales team.
This young man always turned in accurate—to the penny—expense reports. But the difference between his and everyone else’s showed a night and day contrast. His supervisor pulled him aside and explained the gentlemen’s agreement that this particular department operated under. But the young salesman responded that it was out of the question. How could he present a falsified report? His supervisor thought him crazy and urged him to change his report. He refused.
Report after report went up through the chain to the financial department. The contrast caught a director’s notice, enough so that he started to investigate the accuracy of this young man’s expense reports as well as his comrades’ padded ones. It became obvious that the sales team—with the exception of this young man—had been fleecing the company. New standards and systems were put in place, and then came the reprisals. Our friend became a pariah among his fellow salesmen. His punishment not only came from them but from his supervisor as well. The warm prospects that were normally supplied by his supervisor suddenly turned ice cold. Appointments were dropped from or added to his schedule without his knowledge to make him look incompetent. Even some of his sales contracts got lost or tampered with. The people he worked closest with did everything they could to get this young man fired or get him to quit—all because he chose to do what God expected him to do.
His own father-in-law thought he should stop all of this “honesty is the best policy” nonsense and play by the unwritten rules. But his wife stuck by his side, in support of his convictions and with full knowledge of what those convictions were costing them in income. She’d kiss him good-bye each morning and whisper in his ear, “I believe in you.” This couple lost real money. They endured real sacrifice for a long time. But they stayed true to their convictions. They were people of integrity.
This was years ago. That young man is much older. He still works for that same company, but he’s the CEO now. He makes more money annually than he did during his best five years as a sales rep put together. Doing the right thing doesn’t always leave us at the top of the heap. That’s not why we should do the right thing. Yet when we choose integrity, it’s another way that the love God showed for us on the cross is given back to him in obedience.
If we want to receive God’s blessing as well as enjoy his protection, we must have true content to our character. We need undaunted moral fiber driven by uncompromised moral convictions.
Moral convictions give life passion and purpose. That’s why grace-filled couples don’t tolerate a finders-keepers, losers-weepers attitude. They pay their fair share through life—and then some. Their taxes are accurate. Their word is trustworthy. When they mess up, they take responsibility. It might sound like a harder road than the convenient, self-serving path our culture encourages a couple to take, but there’s an upside. Couples of integrity sleep better at night, their family doesn’t have to keep a catalog of their deceptions, they never need to look over their shoulder, and they get to be daily recipients of God’s favor. Psalm 101:2 says, “I will be careful to lead a blameless life. … I will conduct the affairs of my house with a blameless heart.” And even when no one is actually watching us, Psalm 119:54 reminds us that people of integrity are known for the motto, “Your decrees are the theme of my song wherever I lodge.”
God can entrust trustworthy people with his peace. You may not progress as fast as those who take moral shortcuts, but you’ll be standing strong long after they’ve fallen away.
Possibly this section touched a nerve. Discomfort or embarrassment is often the ring from God’s phone trying to get our attention. If we want his grace to be a regular part of our life, then on occasions like this, it’s best to answer that phone call … and repent.
If we were looking for something to represent one of the biggest roles God’s grace plays in our life, I think it would be a carpenter’s level. When we travel close to God’s heart, he keeps us from getting out of balance. I had a wonderful professor in seminary named Dr. Howard Hendricks. He used to say, “Most people’s lives aren’t lived in balance. They just occasionally appear that way in those brief moments when they pass through the middle going from one extreme to the other.”
It’s easy to see how we could end up that way. We’re carpet-bombed by messages that taunt us toward extremes in our purchases, opinions, politics, lifestyles, causes, theology, and preferences—just to name a few.
Regarding this poise muscle group that helps us maintain moral, spiritual, relational, physical, emotional, social, theological, and intellectual equilibrium, King Solomon said, “Do not be overrighteous, neither be overwise—why destroy yourself? Do not be overwicked, and do not be a fool—why die before your time? It is good to grasp the one and not let go of the other. Whoever fears God will avoid all extremes” (Ecclesiastes 7:16–18)
Earlier in Ecclesiastes, Solomon said, “There’s a time for everything” (3:1), and then he went on to list fourteen contrasts (Ecclesiastes 3:2–8). Among them are:
• A time to tear down and a time to build up
• A time to cry and a time to laugh
• A time to mourn our losses and a time to party
• A time to embrace and a time to hold back
• A time to search and a time to give up
• A time to be silent and a time to speak up
• A time for war and a time for peace
In the context of our discussion on grace and the character muscles of poise, these passages beg a few questions: How do we know what time it is? How do we know we’re moving toward an extreme? How do we know which option to embrace and to what degree? That’s where God’s grace comes to our rescue. God’s grace is his heartbeat. It’s the epicenter of his attitude regarding anything. And the best option is the one that most aligns with God’s love expressed on Calvary. Anything we’re doing becomes an extreme when it doesn’t serve the highest and best interests of God’s Calvary-type love.
I realize that’s pretty abstract, but perhaps that’s what God was talking about when, through the apostle Paul, he said, “We live by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). Discussing the freedom we enjoy as recipients of the gospel, Paul also remarked, “‘I have the right to do anything,’ … but not everything is beneficial. ‘I have the right to do anything’—but not everything is constructive” (1 Corinthians 10:23). Earlier in this same New Testament letter, Paul noted, “I will not be mastered by anything” (6:12).
God’s grace keeps us from being mastered by anything other than him. We can get out of whack when we’re mastered by our money, our status, our looks, our sex life, our theological elitism, our causes, our relationships, even our commitment to serving in our church. Over the years, I’ve had to help people who overvolunteer at their church to the harm of their marriage—all because they were trying to fill a void in their view of themselves. If we do good things for the wrong reasons, we’re going to have bad outcomes.
If you’d like a working definition of poise to give you direction, try this: poise is a keen spiritual sense of what is appropriate. I know a marine sergeant who wishes she had learned this principle sooner.
My travels once took me to the Officer Candidate School at Marine Corps Base Quantico (Virginia). Among other things, I was invited to observe morning PT (physical training). There’s a reason the marines discourage pushovers from stopping by their recruiting offices. It starts with their definition of morning, which is a couple of hours before most people think it starts. Another reason they suggest wussies need not apply has to do with what the Marine Corps considers “physical training.” A typical marine burns more calories before breakfast than most people expend in a couple of days. I was transfixed.
On this occasion, the candidates formed on the O-course (obstacle course) at what I’d call zero dark early. There were several ropes suspended from logs that stretched across the O-course. These ropes were forty feet from deck to beam. The candidates wore shorts, T-shirts, and running shoes. The sergeants (staff, gunnery, and first) had on their standard green (at that time) utilities, starched and crisp, with combat boots and campaign covers. These sergeants were gentlemen marines who knew about fifty ways to help you meet your Maker. But in this group, there was also one marine gentlewoman. Though she wore the same uniform, she stood in stark contrast to other sergeants. Her gender obviously created part of the distinction, but the biggest difference was her size. She was what most would call “petite.” But if you think that somehow diminished her capacity to kick your booty, you would be mistaken.
It’s not uncommon for PT to last up to two hours. Although I didn’t observe their whole workout, I was there to watch a good part of the beginning. Apparently, the petite sergeant was responsible for that morning’s sequence of drills. She decided to get in a position where she could easily be seen as well as bark instructions to the candidates.
Sergeant Petite walked over to one of the ropes in the center of the O-course, got a good grip, and then pulled herself up by her hands to about two-thirds of its height. She positioned herself in a kind of relaxed posture with one leg looped through the line and then proceeded to call out what she wanted the candidates to do.
Sergeant Petite was still up there leading PT, holding on to the rope with just her hands, when I left a half an hour later!
Later that morning, I was in the barracks that housed both the candidates and the offices of the sergeants. It was here where I got to meet Sergeant Petite one-on-one. She was a pleasant lady, with a genuine smile and dry wit. We talked briefly about her work. I told her if she needed any tips on climbing ropes and hanging around on them for days on end, to let me know. She rolled her eyes. She knew that I was a Christian advocate for the family. Although I was fascinated by what she did, I was also curious about her as a person. There was a small framed picture on her desk of a girl—maybe five or six years old—who looked like a miniature clone of her. I inquired.
That’s when I got a peek into a backroom of Sergeant Petite’s heart. I soon learned she was divorced and raising her daughter with sole custody. I asked a couple of questions; she gave straightforward answers. And then Sergeant Petite did something I didn’t think she was capable of doing—at least not around a civilian like me. She let a tear slip from one of her dark eyes and run down to her chin. She admitted, “I did something the Corps never asked or ever wanted me to do … I loved it too much.”
She explained that they wanted her to love her Corps, of course, but never so much that it distorted the rest of the priorities in her life. “I mean,” she said, “we all knew going in that the military is hard on marriages. But lots of vocations are. I can’t blame what happened to my husband and me on my job. I simply let it consume me. Tim, I let myself believe that nothing and no one—not my husband, not my daughter … not even God—was more important to me than this.” She waved both hands broadly, as though the Marine Corps encompassed not only the barracks we were standing in but the entire universe.
She continued, “My husband didn’t stand a chance. I really hurt that man. Once I realized how foolish I was, I tried desperately to win him back. But … he left.” She looked down for a moment. “I’m sure,” she said, “you’ve heard the expression ‘Once a marine, always a marine.’” I nodded. “It’s true, and I’m proud of it. But I stood beside a great man at the base chapel many years ago and basically said, ‘Once your wife, always your wife.’ I could have loved both in balance. But I overloved my Marine Corps.” She looked down at the picture on her desk. “Now it’s just me and my daughter.”
“And the Marine Corps,” I added.
“No. Just me and her. We’re the family. One of the officers—who should be doing what you do—said that I had let the Corps into the part of my heart God had meant for me to keep reserved for my husband. I’d also let it into the part I was supposed to keep reserved for him.” She pointed and looked upward. “I’m working at shoring up things with God.” She smiled. Then she said, “And I’ve even cleared the Marine Corps out of that part of my heart that was supposed to be my husband’s, in case he ever wants to come back. But I’m pretty sure it’s too late.”
Poise is a keen sense of the appropriate. A heart guided by God’s grace helps us keep the different parts of our life in balance. When that happens, we can bring much more to the other demands in our life. Grace wants to give our marriage equilibrium and plenty of relational oxygen. Couples who want to enjoy a grace-filled relationship make sure their poise muscle group is always kept well exercised and in tiptop shape.
In the character muscle group of discipline, we’re not talking about the discipline that comes our way because of wrong choices. We’re talking about the things we do that allow us to avoid having to be disciplined.
The best way to understand the power behind discipline is to look at its synonyms: self-control, order, obedience, restraint, and confinement. All of these words define the heart of a grace-filled couple. In a world that touts its no-boundaries, everything-goes philosophies, we need to take our cues from God. That’s because God has given us strengths as individuals and strengths as couples. But we can’t maximize these strengths without discipline.
A great analogy would be the rails of a train. When you see a freight train pass by, it’s overwhelming to try to calculate the sheer tonnage of goods and materials it is moving—sometimes at breakneck speed—from coast to coast. But all that power is confined to wherever the tracks are laid. As long as the train stays on those tracks, it exercises enormous power. But should it ever leave those tracks, it is forever known by a different name: a train wreck.
Discipline is what we apply to our strengths (like train tracks) to maximize their potential. Name any asset God has entrusted to your care as a couple, and you can imagine what a train wreck it can become if that asset isn’t kept within the confines designed to give it maximum potential. How much do we have as assets? Let me count the ways … our time, energy, enthusiasm, bodies (as gifts to each other), money, curiosity, a sense of caution, a sense of adventure, trust, insight, children—and we’re just getting warmed up!
There’s a word that motivates disciplined people but comes off as an insult to undisciplined people: lazy. When God’s grace has transformed our heart, we are motivated to maximize all the good things he’s given us to work with. But when we surrender to our spiritual and relational sluggish side, the road less traveled tends to become the road never taken.
Spiritually disciplined couples do three things: they delay gratification because of advanced decision making in order to stay on target toward a focused goal. Listen to this:
Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever [a focused goal]. Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly [advanced decision making]; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave [delayed gratification] so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize. (1 Corinthians 9:25–27)
When the love of God we received through the sacrifice of Jesus overflows in our hearts. …
• the priorities of our callings as couples don’t get overshadowed,
• our convictions ramp up in intensity, and
• our harnessed capabilities are seen as opportunities to demonstrate our love for God and our commitment to each other.
If we want to run a steady marital marathon, we need to make sure we’re working out our discipline muscles.
In a marathon—especially a big-town event like the New York City Marathon—the runners are not only the main participants, but they’re a big part of the color and fun of the event. Running groups often wear matching jerseys, individuals put funny statements on their shirts, and many don costumes. I saw runners dressed like Batman, Abraham Lincoln, the Statue of Liberty, and a bearded guy in a fairy suit complete with tutu, wings, and a magic wand.
But there were two people who grabbed my attention out of the group I had taken off with. They were a cute young couple who had gotten married in the staging area just before the start of the race. Apparently, they’d brought along someone who could make it legal, and along with a couple of friends as witnesses, they had gotten married near the edge of Fort Wadsworth, where the race begins. I’d seen them while I was stretching out nearby. He wore one of those tuxedo T-shirts, and she had on a veil—which she wore throughout the race—shoes decorated accordingly, and a bouquet.
We were in the same group as we took off. We maintained a similar pace throughout the race, with them getting out ahead of me, and then me sometimes passing them. The first time I passed them was in Queens. They had pulled over to the side of the course, and he was throwing up. Apparently, he had toasted his wedding a bit too much. He was bent over, and she was gently patting him on the back. Isn’t that nice? I thought. It’s a great illustration of love in a marriage. They caught up and passed me (remember they were young). I didn’t see them again until about a mile into Central Park. She was sitting on the sidewalk holding up one of her legs with her shoe off as he tended to her heel. Blisters. Another great illustration, I thought. At one point in the race, he needs her, and at another point, she needs him. Endurance is being there for each other throughout the race, so you can both cross the finish line.
Many things about marriage remind us of the need for endurance. We must be serious about continuing all the way to the end because of all the things we encounter along the way that incline us to quit. We’ve talked about many of them in this book. It is the rare couple who hasn’t occasionally wondered if the finish line is worth all we have to go through to get there. But it is. One very encouraging passage from the Bible says this: “May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had, so that with one mind and one voice you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Romans 15:5–6).
God’s Spirit empowers us as his grace keeps us padding forward through the good, the bad, and the revolting sections of the course before us. I sometimes wonder if the writer of the book of Hebrews had participated in marathons:
Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12:1–3)
• keep in mind there are people depending on us (a great cloud of witnesses),
• keep ourselves unencumbered from foolishness (sin that so easily entangles us),
• resist veering off the course God has laid out (the race marked out before us), and
• keep our eyes on the finish line (fix our eyes on Jesus).
That extra oomph we need, that pep talk, that spouse pulling us up from the sideline and urging us forward is the grace of God. Look to whom the writer points to as the motivation for continuing, and what he explains as the reason for finishing our marital marathon: Jesus … and the cross. He says, “Fixing our eyes on Jesus … for the joy set before him he endured the cross … so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” Our power to endure is found in the gracious work of Jesus on our behalf. When we let his grace transform our hearts, that grace will serve us well, especially when we face the reasons that many use as excuses for giving up. And the more we endure, the greater our resolve to get to the finish line.
Take comfort in this: “We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us” (Romans 5:3–5).
Grace-filled couples who want to finish the race make sure they keep their endurance muscles ripped.
Big-city marathons staged on a crisp autumn day with a cast of thousands is one thing; taking on the long and often lonely road of a marital marathon, with just the two of you, is a different matter. Before you reach the finish line, things are going to cross your path that will frighten you beyond your imagination. First Corinthians 15:58 reminds us, “My dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.”
God knows we’re going to face things that frighten us, but he promises to give us all we need to overcome. You’ve heard the expression “fighting fire with fire”? It’s true. And it works for fear too. Over the years, Darcy and I have learned that the only thing we need to face any fear is a greater fear. Sound crazy? Actually, it’s straight from the Bible. We’ve learned that there is one fear that helps us rise above all others—the fear of God. Rumor has it that it’s where the true wisdom for taking on life actually begins (Psalm 111:10). King David said, “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you” (Psalm 56:3).
Years ago, Darcy and I were in London. In one of the two main cathedrals, I’d read an epitaph on one of the many grave markers that I felt summarized the heart of a courageous person. I wrote it down. However, after I got home, I couldn’t remember whether it was St. Paul’s Cathedral or Westminster Abbey where I had seen it. Recently, we were over there again, and I tracked it down. It’s in Westminster, the main nave, on the south aisle just to the right of the arch leading to the cloister. The man’s name was Lord Lawrence. He was born in 1811 and died in 1879. He was a great man and lived an extraordinary life. Perhaps the reason is summarized in the words they carved for his epitaph: “He feared man so little, because he feared God so much.”
We started this chapter talking about faith and ended by discussing courage. They’re like the primary core muscles that make the other four muscle groups work even better. We said earlier that we make choices. On the one hand, we can choose a marriage that exudes a contagious faith, consistent integrity, practical poise, personal discipline, steadfast endurance, and inspirational courage. To have these, we’ve got to go to God’s gym on a regular basis. Or we can make the decision not to exercise these muscles. We can calculate the effort and say, “The spiritual sweat required just isn’t worth it.” But it’s still a choice. If we choose not to exercise these character muscles, we shouldn’t be surprised that our marriage is badgered by uncertainty, we don’t have a reliable reputation, we’re at the mercy of life’s extremes, most of everything that matters is out of whack, we’re known as quitters, and we spend a lot of time feeling anxious and afraid.
I was about fifty feet beyond the finish line, sitting on a curb eating an apple after I had completed the New York City Marathon. From where I sat, I could see the steady stream of runners reaching the goal. Darcy was waiting somewhere out on Central Park West for me, but that seemed like another marathon away. I’d have to talk my exhausted body into going to find her among the masses. Meanwhile, I needed some nourishment, so I thought I’d sit there for a while and savor the last moments of an amazing experience.
I could see through the finishing gate and down the lane to the runners still making their way. And then I saw them, about a hundred yards off in the distance. It was the newlyweds. They didn’t have that lilt in their step or dance in their stride they had when I saw them take off at the starting line. They were covered with the dirt and sweat of more than twenty-six miles of work, setbacks, and pain. But there they were making their way to the end. Except they weren’t side by side anymore. He was carrying her on his back. Apparently the blisters were simply too much. But rather than not finishing, or finishing without her, he had picked her up so they could finish what they started together. Her arms were around his shoulders and pressed against his sweaty tuxedo T-shirt. Her head bobbed next to his. She still had on her veil and was gripping her drooping flowers in her hand. But there they were.
I watched them all the way to the finish. When he took that last step across the finish line with his new bride, he quickly made his way to their right to avoid the incoming runners. Once clear, they fell into a heap in the grass just off the sidewalk. They just laid there in each other’s arms while race officials covered them with race blankets, slipped their medals over their heads, and checked to make sure they were all right.
I finished my apple, sat there for a while enjoying the moment, and then pulled my body up. My leg muscles were tight, and I knew I still had a ways to go before I found Darcy. But I had to take one last look. I stiff-legged it back toward the finish line, against the flow of the incoming runners walking off their big accomplishments … and there they were. At first I thought they’d fallen asleep. But they were just lying there holding each other close. They both had that look of contented exhaustion—the kind a married couple gets when they make up their mind they’re going to finish what they started regardless of what life brings their way.
I headed on to find Darcy, thinking, Those kids are going to do just fine.