Marriage Sharpens Me

Michael and I met when I was 16 years old, and it wasn’t long before he said we were going to get married. I’m not sure how many girls wish to discuss a wedding at 16, but I was not one of them. We went in and out of each other’s lives until, six years later, we were married. I still didn’t think I was ready. “I don’t like to cook,” I said. Ever the salesman, he replied, “If you marry me, you’ll never have to cook. I’ll do it all.”
We’re very different, and at times I’ve become confused and annoyed by his refusal to be like me. I’m impulsive; he analyzes everything. I love a light-filled home; he wants it dark. I like to go out for dinner; he’d rather go to a movie, which I consider buying a seat in the dark where I can’t talk or even make a phone call.
To read or write, I like total silence, and preferably an empty house. He can work at the kitchen table in the midst of people and noise. At least I don’t disturb him by cooking. He reacts very quickly to negative circumstances. I take a lot longer to arrive at anger, but when I do, I camp for a while. Michael moves on and never looks back.
Our children are well aware of our differences. At an early age, Geoffrey named his father’s vehicle, The Library, because of the silence his father sought while driving. Both of us like clean cars, but we approach the goal in different ways. When Michael drives my car, he makes snide little comments about the contents of my trash bag. “Wow, lots of garbage in there.” Or, “When’s the last time you emptied this thing?” I don’t respond, nor do I remind him of what once happened when we were in his car, but I’ll tell you.
Michael was driving and I had just finished drinking a Coke. Offering the empty can to him I asked, “Would you please put this in the trash bag?”
“I’d rather not,” he said, “It will take up too much room. I don’t like to fill the bag.”
“No problem,” I said, and threw the can in the back seat, shocking both of us. I still can’t believe I did that, nor can I believe we both just burst out laughing.
Despite our differences, or perhaps because of them, last week we celebrated 29 years of marriage. Bill Gothard once said, “If two people agree on everything, one of them isn’t necessary.”
Not only are we both necessary in this marriage, I believe we have both become better, more patient, more flexible individuals through the course of married life. Whenever I think of our differences, I also think of Proverbs 27:17, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.”
Yes, we’re different, with different roles, different temperaments, and different outlooks on life. But much to my children’s disappointment, neither of us enjoys cooking.
Ronny may be reached at rmichel@rtconline.com