Chapter 1
All of You
He lived to the soundtrack of Christian heavy metal; I was unwaveringly CCM (Christian Contemporary Music). He experimented with gas station food oddities while I preferred a classy cafe with a good view. Our reading interests were as equally varied. Our relationship was a beautiful melee in the making.
Fortunately, there was Narnia. The writings of C. S. Lewis were a shared love where we could not only meet strength to strength but interest to interest. Through Lewis, the wonder of a God who had created us for a kingdom not seen with the naked eye had captured each of our hearts.
I remember the day I began to evaluate whether Scott was someone I wanted to marry. Hiking to the top of a scenic granite outcropping, we discussed topics from history to theology. We didn’t (and still don’t) see eye to eye on everything. But back then the discovery of our different opinions didn’t feel threatening.
When I returned to school, we decided to continue building our relationship long distance. We were convinced our ability to talk at length on the phone would give us an advantage in overcoming conflict once we exchanged our vows.
The hunter green and delicate pink napkins at our wedding reception declared our hopes in gold, embossing our mutual belief that “a threefold cord is not quickly broken” (Ecclesiastes 4:12 NKJV). However, Scott and I quickly learned how two differing opinions of equal force produce palpable tension. The “all of you” each of us had agreed to love with our vows became the consistent irritation in any argument. Strength to strength, we were at odds.
Tension, however, provides opportunity for growth. When lifting weights, we feel tension as our muscle fibers experience stress. It’s these small tears and the body’s work to heal them that causes our muscles to build in tone. What feels like insufficiency—muscle failure—becomes the place where growth happens. A muscle left unchallenged never gains strength.
In his letter to Christ–followers in Rome, Paul explained how pressure creates spiritual growth. The legalistic Judaizers were persisting in their ideas to the point of requiring the same of others. Paul reminded believers that we don’t find salvation by what we do—it’s a work of the unseen. He explained, “Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us” (Romans 5:1). He encouraged these believers to remain strong in the face of tension by explaining, “We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation” (5:3–4). The Holy Spirit uses these trials to form in us the very character of Christ.
We gain strength by encountering an opposing point of pressure. Our resistance to the weight of the struggle produces the muscle of endurance, the type of endurance Scripture refers to when speaking about our steadfastness of faith (Colossians 1:11–12; Hebrews 10:36; 12:1). This building of spiritual strength leads us into love as the presence of the Holy Spirit becomes visible in us.
Paul begins with a specific context: the ability to hope for what is not yet present. Faith is believing that what we cannot yet see is real. It is faith that allows us to move our focus to the truth of what is not yet measurable or visible (Romans 5:1). When we choose to trust God in the midst of our frustrations, he gives us the grace to see something other than what is happening in the moment, and he replaces it with his perspective of the relationship (5:2). We begin to live out what Jesus came to say and do. Our lives become the proof that God is not only real but so too is his ability to change us (Romans 5:4; 2 Corinthians 4:17; Philippians 2:12–13). We don’t have to rely on self–effort, as our heavenly Father “has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love” (Romans 5:5).
The process is not an easy one. Tension in a relationship awakens our insecurities, which heighten our desire for safety. If we are not careful, we will value self–protection at the expense of the relationship. At times our discomfort is rooted in a fear of loss; at other times, it’s present because we get a close–up look at our own inadequacies.
We want people to see, think, and act in the same way we would because the predictability of likeness makes us feel safe. Trying to maintain control, we make our spouse’s willingness to agree with us the goal of whatever conflict we have. When agreement doesn’t come, we get frustrated, and often we pull away from our spouse and into ourselves. If we experience enough frustration, we see conflict only as a negative experience to be avoided and the differences that brought the conflict as the problem to be eradicated.
Certainly, there are circumstances when I’m grateful my spouse is not like me. But when the house is strewn with the clutter of life, the bank account drastically reduced by the needs of the family, and consistent communication little more than a hope for someday, I find it more challenging to appreciate those differences. The vows to love the all of my spouse become harder to keep front and center. It’s easier to give room to the lie that our relationship would be better if he would just see things my way.
Differences touch our safety, but they also expose our pride. Sometimes our discomfort comes not because the conflict has exposed a weakness in one person or the other, but rather, because it has revealed two equal strengths. We don’t like admitting there are more ways to approach life than just the way we see it. To do so is to challenge not only our methods but also our willingness to allow someone else to have “the win.”
Philippians 1:6 reminds us that “God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” The conflict that feels terminal can become a place for God to work in us in such a way that we live out Paul’s prayer for the church at Philippi: “I pray that your love will overflow more and more, and that you will keep on growing in knowledge and understanding” (Philippians 1:9).
Strength to strength, all of me and all of you, along with the multitude of differences in–between, become what we need. Only then can we discover the greater love marriage was meant to be .
Chapter Questions
1. The choice to engage in conflict doesn’t guarantee a productive result, especially if it results in open hostility. How can we make sure our responses to tension, disagreement, or even areas of extended conflict remain healthy and grounded in biblical truth?
2. Think of an area where you and your spouse are significantly different to the point of conflict. How can this area of disagreement be a means of strengthening both you as a person and your love for your spouse?
3. What are some practical ways you can walk out “all of me and all of you is what we need” in your marriage relationship?
You Might Also Like
Finishing Well
Gracefully Living with Life's Changes
