There are a lot of marriage jokes that get thrown around when someone is celebrating an anniversary. I’ve heard things like “we’ve been married for 15 wonderful years… 18 total. HA!” Both men and women have said this with a twinkle in their eye and maybe an edge to their voice. There’s lots of pressure to present well with a zinging disclaimer. “Oh, 30 years and we’ve NEVER had a fight”, which, in my limited observation, could mean that someone isn’t saying what they really think. Not that saying exactly what you think every moment is a good idea, especially to your wife. Or another — “I married my best friend and we’ve been blessed, blessed, blessed!” It’s good to celebrate and recognize friendship and God’s blessing (and/or an abundance of good experiences). These are all well and good, and I celebrate the ones who have made it so very long with no speed bumps. Marriage no easy situation because there’s a bit of dysfunction in all of us that bubbles to the surface at the worst possible times. Ask my wife: she’ll tell you what a jackwagon I can be. Brittany, on the other hand, is perfect in every way. Of course, if you ask her that, she’ll strongly disagree.

But she really is perfect. Perfect for me, at least. She knows me and loves me exactly as I need to be loved. I actually enjoy the rough edges we encounter because we usually know what’s behind them for each of us and find an opportunity for growth. We were both raised in certain circumstances that shape a person for the rest of their lives. There’s a LOT to be said about how your childhood experiences set you up for the future. Some are good, and some are in need slow re-wiring, which happens best in the context of a Christ-centered marriage. People are mysterious and contradictory and bizarre. At least I am. To quote one particular book title that sums human relationships up nicely: “Everyone is normal until you get to know them.”

I say this to couples that want me to perform their wedding ceremony. My first step is to try and talk them out of it, somewhat tongue-in-cheek. You can’t get married for yourself but for the other. I’ll say to the guy “you realize, of course, that your job is to love your wife as Christ loves the church, right?” “Uh huh” they say. And I drill deeper. “What did Christ do for the church?” Sometiems they have the right answer for this but it’s usually met with silence. “Um… loved it?” or something like that. “More than that,” I say. “Christ died for the church as a servant. Christ died for your wife to be, who is called to serve Christ. In other words, you’re the self-sacrificing servant of a servant of the Lord Jesus.”

“Uh huh.”

It takes a long time to learn how to serve someone at the same sacrificial level as Jesus, and it can’t be done by trying harder. It’s an act of worship (Romans 12:1) that calls us to submit to one another out of reverence for Christ (Ephesians 5:21). Marriage, therefore, isn’t about you being happy. It’s about becoming more like Christ as the Holy Spirit refines you by working through the person you married. I didn’t make this stuff up.

Brittany challenges me to be more like Christ than I would be otherwise. It’s not about me and never was. I say all that to say this: I didn’t marry Brittany because I wanted a good life, though I have one. I didn’t tie the knot to guarantee someone would be bound to take care of me, though she takes great care of me. We didn’t adopt each other’s kids because it would be “fun” to have a big blended family, though it often is. We did all of this because it was the right thing to do, joyful and challenging. Ours is a spiritual home remodel where there’s always painters tape stuck somewhere and a thin layer of sawdust covers the kitchen counters.

It’s like the Brady Bunch, but without Alice making up for all our deficiencies. We have to compensate for that stuff on our own with the grace of Jesus. Of course, we have a cadre of family and friends who help us out all the time. Couldn’t do it without them. But it’s no cakewalk. No wonder Paul suggested it’s better to stay single (1 Corinthians 7).

Today someone wished us a Happy Anniversary and asked how many years. I said “Three, but it feels like 30.” They laughed, thinking maybe I was dropping my own zinger. What I mean by that is that Britt and I have done so much in the last four years that it feels like every week is a month, and every month is a year. She and I went to dinner on Friday and took a quick inventory. In the past four years of knowing each other again, we’ve

• Flipped three houses, one of which was mine
• Signed off on the titles to 6 different cars
• Adopted each other’s kids (5 distinct feats of legal legwork)
• Had 5 kids in 4 different schools at the same time
• Started schooling and shifted employment after almost starting a business
• Merged households and encountered all kinds of different parenting approaches
• Renovated our kitchen and added a bedroom
• Sent one kid off to a career, the other off to college
• Learned how to raise and nurture a neurodivergent kid
• Buried our daughter, who presented with severe special needs yet made us much better people all around.

I’m not complaining, just pointing out that we’re dead-to-self serious about what we have in each other. She is a gift to me. Not like a nice painting or a knick-knack that you can set aside and enjoy every once in a while. No, this is like being gifted a house. And let me tell you: properly taking care of a house is a LOT of work. Enjoyment comes as a result of good maintenance by intention and action.

Three tightly packed, intense, and glorious years. Now that we’re rounding the bend to year 4, there are signs that things may slow down a bit — in a good way. But if we let go of Jesus or each other, we’re in trouble.

NOW on to the benefits of being married to Brittany Davidson. She’s smart & sassy, beautiful & feisty, honey & honeybee. She loves fiercely and takes care of her own — even those who aren’t biologically her own. She loves her husband with the love of Jesus. She’s changing into Christlikeness. She’s my best friend. And, let me say again, feisty. I love this woman.

I’m glad she said yes. I’m glad I said yes. We keep saying yes.

Yes to ALL of it.