Reconstituted Wife

They say marriage sanctifies you. Whoever "they" are.

I've had seasons, any maybe you have too, where this has felt more true, and seasons where the idea of my marriage being used as a tool to sanctify me was laughable.

You might be thinking, sancti-what? Let's dissect this for a second.

Sanctification is simply the process of being changed or transformed by God. We believe that God not only saves us from the curse of sin and death, but transforms our hearts and lives, making us holy or set apart.

2 Corinthians 5:17 says, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."

1 Thessalonians 5:23 says, "Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ."

Colossians 2:6-7 says, "So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness."

It might sound complicated, and maybe even a little intense, but in simple terms it means that we start to think and act like Jesus.

So, what does this have to do with marriage.... and is marriage the only way to be sanctified??

No, God uses many things to sanctify us! He guides us through his Word, through prayer, and through the wisdom of others, but often it is our circumstances that He uses to mold and shape us. Circumstances like... marriage, parenting, career, difficult people, and even circumstances beyond our control.

If we are willing, God can use just about anything to teach us.

First Years

I don't know about you, but my first years of marriage were rough! We were young and naive in every sense of the word. We loved hard, played hard and fought hard.

We were completely infatuated and complete opposites; to complicate things even further, we came from very different family dynamics.

We argued often, over the dummest things, like we could never agree on whose turn it was to take the dog out. Or when he'd use a metal scraper on my new pans. Or when I brought home a rocking chair that was so outdated it could have been mistaken for something I picked up on the side of the road - heaven forbid, it didn't match the rest of our furniture. He lost his temper when dinner was (usually) burned, flavorless, or a deviation from the original recipe, which never turned out well, mostly because I was a terrible cook. I lost my temper because I didn't like to cook, and didn't like being held responsible for meal prep on account of my gender role.

He was bougie, I was thrifty. He was a spender, I was a saver - except most nights, when I didn't feel like cooking, or on weekends away where I felt completely justified in my shopping spree.

He was organized and systematic, and I was a free bird who didn't want to be tied down to any set agenda or rule. Ahhem (clears throat*): a slight clarification... I had rampant, undiagnosed ADHD.

A mentor once told us that he is a bull and I am a butterfly. Bulls are strong, slow and steady. They don't quit when it's hard, and they take forever to change direction. Butterflies flit from one thing to the next - whatever has captured their attention for the moment, completely forgetting what was behind and unbothered about what is ahead. Us in a nutshell.

Deeper still, our families handled conflict and emotions very differently: his family was loud, direct, and sometimes aggressive; my family was co-dependent and enabling, with high positivity and spirituality, preferring to avoid conflict altogether.

When we fought, he would list out the reasons he was right and I was wrong, and if I didn't agree, he would repeat himself, intensity rising with that big, bellowing voice. Unable to form rational thoughts over the emotions rattling through me, I would fall to pieces, run out the room and give him the silent treatment for hours or even days.

Super mature.

My mama always says, "life can make you bitter, or better." For a hot minute, my marriage was not making me better. Or maybe I should clarify - my attitude was not making me better.

They say the first year is always the hardest. They were right. During that year, my timid little people-pleasing, high-positivity heart turned to stone. I learned to fight back, using my words to cut like a knife. I mastered the art of sarcasm, snarky one-liners and a cold stare. Instead of getting better, I was genuinely proud of myself for being... for lack of a better word... mean.

Turning Point

God, in his infinite wisdom and kindness, whispered in my ear.

When I finally stopped to listen, here's what he showed me:

1. Instead of loving the fight, I had to remember that I loved my husband more than I loved being right.

   
   

2. I was fighting the wrong way, and needed a new mantra. Proverbs 15:1 says, A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. I started meditating on this simple truth, and used it any time I felt the urge to lash out at him.

   
   

3. I was miserable, and genuinely wanted things to change, but I was putting the cart before the horse. Before I could ask God to change my husband, I had to ask the Lord to change me.

It didn't happen over night. It took a lot of tears and a lot of surrender. But God met me in the mess and sanctified me. He used the circumstances of my marriage to make me more like him.

The Lord sanctified me and is sanctifying me. To be sure, I'm still a work in progress, but I can say with joy and honesty that my marriage looks wildly different than when those two obnoxious kiddos said "I do."

We still do. And we're eternally grateful for all the stretching and growing that it took to get us where we are today.

Though at times it felt easier to throw in the towel, easier to give up than grow up, we're grateful we didn't give up up each other because on the other side of that pain was the deepest friendship and sincerest love.