I can remember the first time that I ever thought my husband and I needed someone to talk to about our marriage.
Even now I won't say the correct title...I sugar coat it with the thoughts of who may read this.
A marriage counselor.
Why is it that we put stigmas on certain words, titles, and roles? Why do we allow assumptions to take over and turn into truth?
I remember the first time I thought we needed to see a marriage counselor.
We stood in the tiniest of apartments with whitewashed walls and make shift furniture. Our couch was really a twin bed that sat longways against the wall. The kitchen could not have been more than five feet by five feet. The bathroom was even smaller and allowed no room for privacy. The Caribbean sea breezes gave cause for open windows.
As our voices elevated there was no doubt in my mind that our neighbors heard it all. I felt embarrassed and ashamed and scared. Heap on top of that the expectation of easy Christian marriage I had coming into this union, and the confusion of the reality was at the least heavy on my heart.
"I think we may need to go talk to someone; don't you?"
When I spoke the words to the man standing across the floor from me, he scoffed and I easily retreated, feeling weak and telling myself that I was overreacting. Maybe I had just said it to strike a nerve and make a point.
We never really came to a healthy conclusion that night or the day after. The two of us just eventually got in a better humor with one another. Then the newlywed infatuation of the first two years of marriage took back over and things were blissful.
Until there was another night with a misunderstanding, open windows, and thin white washed walls.
I would continue to have the thought on occasion of needing a counselor. The fear of what that would look like to others and thinking he thought it was crazy, kept me from uttering the words again. After all, we were just like everyone else, right?
***
We did a good job at keeping that little apartment clean. We cleaned the sinks and the toilets and dusted the few pieces of real furniture that we claimed as ours. We washed the sea salt off the windows and wiped down the walls with bleach. The kitchen stayed pretty much spotless and bathroom smelled fresh.
And we were awesome at sweeping.
We swept everything under the rug.
All of it. The disagreements, the anger, the loud voices, and certainly the thought that we might need some professional help with our marriage.
In reality there wasn't that much to sweep, anyway. It was hidden quite well under the rug.
***
Fast forward.
An island, three kids, many major life events, 6 apartments or houses, a few cars, a couple jobs, three churches, and a residency later...
We still loved to sweep. And as life went on, there certainly was more and more to sweep.
Then one night we find ourselves face down, beat up and bruised, lying on the floor. Why you ask? Because when you sweep enough stuff, little by little even, under your preverbial rug...there isn't much else to do than to trip over the huge lump in the rug you have made for yourself and your mate.
This time I sat on a couch. This time it's a real one and we actually own it. The two of us set in an awkward silence as the three kids have pillowed their heads and are fast asleep down a long hall way in their respective rooms.
We knew a few things for certain that night.
1. Most of those on the outside of the walls that surround us see us as "the perfect couple". They think we have it made. He is so good to her and she is so supportive and good to him. That is what most think.
2. Those people are wrong.
3. We needed a marriage counselor.
This time it wasn't posed as a question to the fellow I had married. I am ashamed to say that it was in the form of an ultimatum. I spewed it out of my mouth breaking the silence. It was drenched in anger, resentment, and a bit of fear, along with many tears.
I didn't care if it cost a lot of money. I didn't care if everything was let out to dry. I didn't care if I had to carry half the blame. I didn't care if it appeared we didn't actually have time for it with our crazy hectic schedules. I didn't care if either one of us was uncomfortable or embarrassed or stubborn.
A week later I sat on another couch. What is it with me and couches? We had driven an hour away from home for the need we both felt for privacy. There in a little room in Brentwood my husband and I began to pull up the rug and the dust and dirt went flying. A marriage counselor began to help us clean it up.
***
That was nine years ago.
There are a few names that I speak in my prayers every single day. The name of our marriage counselor, Dr. H, is one of them.
Counselors don't fix marriages. God does. He just uses them as a means to His method.
How do I know this? Because my marriage today...
It's nothing short of a miracle.
I like Michael and I am pretty sure he likes me. And it in no way is a "fake" like. He is my favorite person to do things with in life. The arguments are occasional. And when they happen we can navigate through them, and the next day we are not nursing the wounds selfishly and silently. We overlook and laugh at silly mistakes. It takes a whole lot for us to offend one another. Imperfections make us unique and are celebrated instead of criticized. Apologies are extended easily, when needed, and are accepted gracefully.
We know and agree that we must keep three things in mind...
1. We are a work in progress.
2. Priorities are as follows...Jesus. Each other. Then the three kids.
3. Upkeep is key. We still see Dr. H almost monthly.
***
Infatuation and the whirlwind romance of courtship and engagement and a wedding and the first couple years of wedded bliss...All of that is exciting and fun and thrilling. But when the calm, or maybe we should say craziness, of real married life sets in, it's life changing.
It usually is great for a while.
All the things one never noticed about the other begin to surface. Human nature takes over and criticism comes easy. Criticism turns into nagging and nagging...it can just get plain nasty.
The circle of life has to continue on...in the same fashion as it always has in the culture in which you live and have been raised. So in the case of the bible belted southern United States, you start having babies. Cause you know, adding children to the mix will make it all lovely and beautiful and easier. I am going to insert a very sarcastic eye roll here, which will surprise a few of my closest friends.
Priorities get all out of whack. Little people come before the big person you chose. The demands of work and providing collide with the daunting task of everyday parenthood. Words become few. Dates become extent. You start keeping score. It isn't bad, but it isn't great...it's okay. It's transactional at best.
Satan sits down to feast on the transactions.
He creates situations of doubt. He puts the fear of the unknown in and mingles that with the stigma so many put on counseling. He tells you that everyone else needs it...but not you.
***
I can remember Michael and I coming to a conclusion one day in a session with our Dr. H that we at one time felt like we had something extraordinary. Some where along the way we had silently decided that ordinary was what we were going to settle for. That wasn't okay...with either of us or with God. Extraordinary was what we knew God intended. And it's what we wanted.
If you turn away from what us humans have settled for and open your eyes to what He made marriage for...then the only end result would be extraordinary.
But we didn't have a clue how to get there from here.
Sometimes you need to lay your pride down and admit you don't know it all. It's a sign of wisdom and maturity to ask for help. Marriage...even Christian marriage...isn't as easy as television and movies, fairytales, and maybe even your parents made it look. Mediation is a beautiful thing. It isn't someone telling you how to live and manage your marriage. It isn't someone telling you all the things that you have done or are doing are wrong.
It's more like deciding with your teammate the direction you want to go, the goals you want to accomplish, and then having a coach lead you to a championship. But hey, there are going to be losses along the way. Injuries are bound to happen. Teammates don't always get along and see eye to eye. A coach is needed to guide and redirect. Sometimes he might change the game plan totally. Healing will have to take place and grace has to be extended...to your teammate and to yourself. And conditioning...you must have conditioning.
If you have ever thought that you may need marriage counseling...If your spouse has ever mentioned it...If you ever have said you don't need marriage counseling...If it's just ordinary...If you look at "the perfect couple" and think they have it made...If the weight of "being the perfect couple" is too heavy to bear and you know it's fake...If communication is tough...If you argue a little or a lot...If life is too crazy to talk or to date...If you are just making the transactions...
Try marriage counseling. If it doesn't fit the first time, try a different counselor. Coaches sometimes have to be fired, you know.
Trade in the ordinary for extraordinary.
I promise you will be glad you did.
