Year 3: Protecting Our Marriage

9+6=15

Today makes 3 years since T-Daddy and I said “I Do!” Since that day, there have been giggles, smirks and infatuation with most things lighthouse, nautical, infinity or storm-related. It’s like a forever inside joke. 

There have also been some very real and raw moments and conversations in those 3 years. I’m constantly reminded by a very dear mentor-turned-friend to protect our marriage. And be intentional in doing so. What she already knew but I didn’t fully realize till this year is that the biggest threat to our marriage isn’t other women and men, friends that don’t like him or me, or even our family. No, the biggest threat to our marriage is us.

She was telling me to protect my marriage from my insecurities, my fears, my overthinking, my grievances, my anger, my desires, my busyness. Even our children. As I set out (and failed) several times to really listen to T-Daddy, I realized that in so many instances, I was our own worst enemy. I was so busy looking for the enemy on the front lines that I never noticed the one who snuck in the back door. 

The biggest threat to our marriage is us.

Every time I chose to scroll Facebook or Instagram instead of being fully engaged in my husband’s presence, I was attacking our marriage. Every time I led our daughters to believe they were somehow equal to and therefore entitled to the same respect, authority and priority as T-Daddy, I was attacking our marriage. Every time I failed to truly become fluent in and speak T-Daddy’s love language, I was attacking our marriage. Every time I vented to my friends about how much he annoyed me, I was attacking our marriage. And every time I cringed at his words and behaviors in public because he was “embarrassing me,” I was attacking our marriage.

As a married woman, my biggest ministry is my family. And I know that “the overall health of our family cannot and will not exceed the health of our marriage.” It doesn’t matter what kind of daughter, sister, friend, worker I am if I’m a horrible wife. Doesn’t matter how nice or kind I am to other people if I’m rude and mean to my husband.

I was attacking our marriage.

This past weekend, I was talking to my brother and the subject of our anniversary came up. He asked how long had it been and when I told him 3 years, he enthusiastically said “That’s so cool!” Funny, that wasn’t my first, second, third or fourth thought. But he’s right. It is so cool! Today, I get to celebrate three years with a man I am perfectly happy lying with under the stars, watching the moon rise. I get to do life with a man who is most definitely cheering the hardest in everything I do and carrying me when I can’t go on, even if that means he isn’t the loudest or even seen doing so. Who’s the yin to my yang. The ice cream in my root beer float. 

And he is so worth protecting…even from myself. Especially from myself.