On August 7, Karen and I will have been married for 37 years. What better way to celebrate than by publishing an excerpt from my book The Mystery of Marriage, which is almost as old? (Well, actually I can think of a few better ways to celebrate …)
When Adam and Eve were banished from the Garden, the Lord installed cherubim and a flaming sword to guard the entrance, and He also “made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them” (Gen 3:21). That these two events coincided is not coincidental.
I can never make love to my wife without thinking what a crazy, preposterous, utterly unlikely thing is this business of sex. Who ever dreamed it up?
My good friend Murray Phillips, a renowned wilderness painter and one of the kindest and most interesting people I have ever known, died on March 1 of a brain tumor, the day after his third wedding anniversary.
One glaring omission from my book The Mystery of Marriage is any mention of Jesus’ first miracle at the wedding in Cana.
Before having a shower (usually late at night), I always run a few inches of warm water in the tub, and for 15 minutes I lie there and soak. When I say soak, I don’t just mean my body but my spirit. Letting go of all worries and distracting thoughts, I sink into my heart and simply rest in the presence of God. To put it another way, I take this time for contemplative prayer.
For many years as a Christian, occasionally the thought would cross my mind, I’m tired of always being hitched to God. How would it be if I didn’t have to worry about Him but could just do things on my own? Natrually I’d try to banish this thought, but sometimes it would linger a little longer than you might expect in a believer who truly loved his Lord.
I ended last week with a bald statement that to stop fighting with my spouse, I must arrive at the conclusion that every fight is entirely my fault, and accordingly it is up to me to achieve a peaceful relationship.
So far I’ve offered some practical tips on how to end marital disputes. But advice is cheap, so let’s cut to the chase. As with everything in the Christian life, quitting fighting is not fundamentally a matter of doing anything but of having a realization.