In today’s Equally Yoked post, Tim Fall talks about money and decision-making.

Cabaret has that wonderfully avaricious song, Money, Money:

Money makes the world go around
The world go around
The world go around
Money makes the world go around
It makes the world go ’round.
A mark, a yen, a buck, or a pound
A buck or a pound
A buck or a pound
Is all that makes the world go around,
That clinking clanking sound
Can make the world go ’round.

The song gets worse, but it’s also quite accurate for those living out what Jesus warned against in Matthew 6:24 – “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” Paul’s assessment in 1 Timothy 6:9-10 fits too – “Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.”

I don’t really have an answer for money problems. I’m not a financial expert or budgeting wiz. I’ve read about those things, but I’ve never been able to do them. Instead, I try to keep it simple and live within my means. Since I’m married, it’s really two of us living within our means. I’m glad my wife is with me on this because she’s more careful about money than I am, and while we don’t have a strict budget she is able to keep an idea of how much we’ve got to spend at any given time. Sometimes I think she’s too careful, but she probably thinks I’m too frivolous.

That’s how she characterizes things sometimes when we talk about spending money. “I just don’t want us to be frivolous,” she’ll say. That doesn’t mean we never spend money on fun stuff. We take a vacation occasionally, eat out, see a show once in a while, but neither of us are big spenders by nature. And since we have two kids to put through college (one just graduated, woo-hoo!), it’s hard to justify big expensive purchases or payments anyway. In fact that’s a nice excuse not to spend a ton, and not thinking about spending a ton keeps my head from spinning around out of control

So here’s how we do it. We talk about where the money goes. I don’t decide on my own, she doesn’t decide on her own. Sometimes, the two of us together don’t reach a decision either; of course, they say not deciding is a type of decision too. But when we do choose to shell out a biggish wad of cash, it’s because we’ve talked it through.

Sometimes our conversations are about vacations. Do we spend the money to go to family camp, rent a house on the coast with some friends, or just decide to stay home? Others have been about cars. Should we buy a car now or wait a while? If so, which car? (We haven’t bought new in years, by the way.) I know some families operate on the practice that the husband comes home with a car and that’s how the decision gets made. I’d rather walk than make a decision like that without my wife.

This type of conversation extends to who we give to as well. We get a lot of letters from people going on the mission field (short term and long), plus there’s church and other ministries and endless opportunities to give (remember what Jesus said about always having the poor among us?). It’s kind of enjoyable to talk about who to give to and how much for each. But again, neither of us has ever unilaterally chosen to give charitably. One of us might have a suggestion that prevails, but it is still talked about first.

At work, one thing I’ve noticed in my courtroom is that families that don’t talk about money are more likely to end up in a legal dispute than those who do. It might be in a marriage dissolution, which can include child support issues or dividing up the family’s property. It might be in a will contest or trust proceeding where one part of the family doesn’t trust what the other is doing with the money. It might be in a good old fashioned theft case, where one person mistakenly thought they could trust another member of the family with an ATM card and password.

Speaking of work, a retired judge told me long ago, “I’ve found that more communication is almost always better than less.” I’ve taken that observation to heart, and I can tell you that it works in my marriage whether we’re talking about money or anything else. What also helps is to remember that it’s not money that makes the world go around, but God:

For in him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things have been created through him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. (Colossians 1:16-17.)

Creating all things and holding them together, including us and all we are and all we have. Now that’s something worth talking about.

Tim is a California native who changed his major three times, colleges four times, and took six years to get a Bachelor’s degree in a subject he’s never been called on to use professionally. Married for over 25 years with two kids (one in college and one just graduated, woo-hoo!), his family is constant evidence of God’s abundant blessings in his life. He and his wife live in Northern California. Tim blogs here.

Next week’s Equally Yoked post is from Jessica Clemmer.

Want to contribute to the Equally Yoked series? Email Jenny at jennyraearmstrong@gmail.com.

Hey, before you go, don’t forget to enter the May Giveaway!

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Today’s Equally Yoked post is by Jada Swanson.

To my husband, my love, my partner and friend,

In just a few days, we will be celebrating 14 years of marriage, partnership, and teamwork. Where have the years gone? Sometimes, it feels as if we’ve been together all of our lives and at other times, merely a few days.

We took to heart the advice we were given on our wedding day: LAUGH. Laugh a lot.

And we have laughed…A LOT!  

We’ve laughed at ourselves, and we’ve laughed at each other. When things were funny and when things were not funny at all. Finding the comic relief of the situation seemed to help. And after all these years, it just takes one look —you know THAT look— and we start laughing all over again.

But we’ve cried, too. 

When tightly held secrets were shared for the first time, and beauty emerged from the ashes. Those were healing tears! When we found out we were expecting a baby after almost losing hope of ever becoming parents. Tears of joy! When dreams were shared and longings revealed. And when one chapter of our life began to close, so another one could be written. Those tears held mixed emotions for both of us.

We have experienced so much. Side by side. Together.

Through the years, we’ve grown as individuals and as a couple. Navigating our way through all sorts of experiences and situations, joys and heartaches, beginnings and endings. The work and effort exerted to get us to this place has totally been worth it, and I wouldn’t trade our journey for anything.

There’s and ebb and flow in our marriage, in our family and even in our daily lives. Long before we understood the distinction between Egalitarian and Complimentarian, we had already discovered what worked for us: sharing, teamwork, and unity. To us, it wasn’t about “woman’s work” or “man’s work”. No, it was about supporting and encouraging one another, so we did whatever needed to be done. And we still do!

We have purposefully chosen to embrace words like forgive, love, respect, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and self-control. Oh how we have, and continue to work on those. Along with daily submitting to one another, mutually respecting, and forever loving, we fervently and faithfully seek God and His plan for our lives.

One of the greatest gifts we have given to each other is the gift of dreaming…BIG! But we don’t stop at dreaming. We are called to steward and develop all the gifts, skills and abilities that God has given to each of us. So, we challenge one another to think outside-of-the-box in order to see the dream become a reality.  And through it all, we cheer one another along to the finish line!

Jon, I wouldn’t be the person I am today without having you in my life. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. You protected me when others didn’t. You saw things in me that I couldn’t see: gifts, talents, skills, even a pastoral calling. And although you didn’t think you could do it, I knew you were destined to continue your education, no matter what. Amidst moving cross-country, planting a church, home schooling our kids, and the fullness of ordinary life, you will soon be Dr. Swanson! I am so proud of you!

Thank you for always making our marriage and family a priority. Daily, you show our children what it means to be a devoted Christ-follower and a husband who shows their mom love and respect while exemplifying partnership in all aspects of life. More than ever, I am reminded just how amazing you are and how very thankful I am for you, the partnership we have developed, and the life we have created. I wouldn’t trade our journey for anything!

Here’s to 14 years, Baby! How’s forever sound?

Love,
Me

Jada Swanson, an ordained pastor in the Free Methodist Church, is a teacher at heart. One of her passions is preaching and teaching at churches, conferences and retreats.  For many years, she has shared the gift of music with her piano and voice students, and  considers it a privilege to travel with them on their musical journeys. She’s a self-professed “foodie,” so spending time in her kitchen  is a spiritual experience. One of her greatest desires is to foster a renewed engagement in the spiritual discipline of hospitality to this generation.

Next week’s Equally Yoked post is from Tim Fall.

Want to contribute to the Equally Yoked series? Email Jenny at jennyraearmstrong@gmail.com.

Hey, before you go, don’t forget to enter the May Giveaway!

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I will graduate on May 11, mere days from now… Which is why so many are recently asking: “What will you do after seminary?” In return, I often respond with an ironic, sad little smile. But I am not the only female seminarian who answers this question with a bit of nervous laughter and a hedge. I know I’m not, because I listen to my seminary sisters when they are asked this question. I listen to their answers, and later, I go home and I cry.

So I have decided that perhaps, in the style of Jesus, it might be best to turn the question into another question for my questioners. (Did you get all that?) I have decided that in certain situations it’s OK to ask: “What will you allow me to do with my degree?” Because this is the question that will largely determine what I do with my degree.

Wherever it Rises by Jen Hatmaker

“Yes, you know I value prophecy and believe the church needs to acknowledge some cold hard facts. Yes, courageous truth-speakers are ever needed and the state of the Bride requires urgent boldness. But perhaps what will transform the Body most is an influx of humility, reaching across party lines and gender barriers and denominational affiliations and theological debates and generations and preferences, and lock hands with one another, celebrating the gospel wherever it rises.”

Shame-Based Sex Education: We Can Do Better by Kristen Howerton

“No woman, ever, is a chewed up piece of gum. No woman is a cup of spit. No woman is a used car or a dirty rag or a used-up piece of duct tape or a plucked rose or a licked cupcake. No matter what she’s done. Didn’t Jesus come to tell us that?”

Women in the Church by Gary Walter, president of the ECC (He quotes me and mentions my grandma!)

In the Covenant at our most elemental we are simply people of the Book who have joined together to do mission. So for us, these two questions are always paramount: What does the Bible say? And what does the mission need?

As we read the entirety of Scripture, we are convinced the Bible normatively affirms women in leadership. Miriam, Deborah, Huldah, Esther, Anna, Rachel, Hannah, Abigail, Ruth, Tabitha, Lydia, Priscilla—the list of stories of women in leadership goes on. In Romans 16, Paul names twenty-seven people of importance and influence, seven of them women. There appears to be no distinction in leadership roles based on gender, listing both for the same positions, notably Phoebe as a deacon and Junia as an apostle.

In my position I have the opportunity to see the difference women are making every week as senior pastors; church planters; staff ministers; missionaries; military, hospital, and institutional chaplains; faculty; camping staff; leaders at conference and denominational offices; and positions in parachurch settings. Our mission and ministry would be irretrievably impaired were we not affirming all the gifts of the entire body of Christ. For me, it’s simply this—if the Covenant wants to reach its full missional potential, then our members need to be able to reach their full missional potential.

Don’t forget, the Kindle Giveaway is still on until the end of May!

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I am becoming an avid cyclist, some would describe me as a obsessive cyclist, but I enjoy cycling and participating in road races. It’s a newer passion and I find myself being coached and encouraged by those with more experience through the challenges of training and building up strength and endurance. A year or so ago—when I was first getting into the training aspect of road bike racing—I contacted a friend who has a career in training people for triathlons and has himself participated in a number of Iron Man races. When I asked what advice he has for a novice road biker, he responded with, “Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.”

I find this statement to be so true when it comes to my relationship with God. Our comfort is shaken through many different ways, but some ways are painful. Such as death, divorce, illness, financial difficulties, betrayal, just to name a few. How do we become comfortable with being uncomfortable, or better yet, how do we stay present in the midst of the pain so that we become stronger, wiser, and more full of grace? The truth is some of us are stoics and bottle up our pain, thinking that it’s more important to keep it inside and keep it together on the outside. Others of us may find ourselves dwelling on the pain, becoming consumed and identify ourselves by it.

We can be present to the pain by expressing it as an act of worship—a lament. The Psalms invite us to plant our tears – “Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy.” (Ps. 126.5). When we bottle up our pain we are avoiding it. The invitation is to acknowledge our pain—not to become consumed by it—and to plant it in worship. Lamenting is not the opposite of worship, it is worship—it is turning toward God even in the midst of sorrow, in the midst of pain, in the midst of the discomfort.

Where would you fall on the continuum of a stoic to some who is consumed with their pain?

What does planting your tears in worship look like for you?

What do you think about the statement “Get comfortable with being uncomfortable” and how it pertains to faith?

I counted myself among the amens. I’m an egalitarian woman, in an egalitarian denomination, who writes for egalitarian organizations, but I only disagreed with one of the eight distinctives Alsup uses to define New Wave Complementarianism–that there are positions of authority only men should hold.

Honestly, I’m a little afraid that positive commentary from egalitarian circles might hurt their cause in some people’s eyes, but I feel like I need to say something. Because sisters, we have a Euodia and Syntyche situation on our hands. We have powerful ministers of the gospel being hampered, divided and distracted by an ongoing disagreement.

Many of the women involved in these conversations are women I am immensely drawn to; women whose work I respect and whose passions run parallel to mine. I imagine we’d be friends if we lived near each other–that we’d get together for coffee to laugh about our kids, talk about God, brainstorm new ministry initiatives, and crack intellectual jokes about our divergent theological leanings. I imagine we’d proof each other’s articles, pray with and for one another, shed tears over each other’s hurts, and leap to one another’s defense when things got sticky.

Reading Alsup’s post and others like it, I was reminded again of how much we have in common. But reading the responses, something else occurred to me. Is it possible that we’re having a hard time meeting in the middle not because there’s such a gulf between us, but because each side is being defined by its fringe?

Here’s the thing. Most of the posts and comments I’ve read regarding New Wave Complementariansism make me want to cheer. I recognize my own heart, hurts, doubts, and hopes in these women’s words. But some (not all) of the negative pushback they’ve received was truly troubling, the sort of cringe-worthy comments that anyone unfamiliar with fundamentalism would hardly believe existed nowadays. We’re talking about ideas that strike at the heart of female personhood, that have women created less-fully in the image of God than men are.

Whoa, Nellie.

It was like the straw man showed up on their doorstep, live and in person, with his hair on fire.

It kinda freaked me out.

But then it occurred to me. Egalitarianism has its straw men too, and like the ones on the complementarian side, they are very real. There are egalitarians who diminish or deny the inspiration of scripture. There are egalitarians who make more of their freedom in Christ than their obligation to serve others. There are egalitarians who seem more loyal to feminist theory than biblical, Christ-centered theology, and wind up accommodating syncretistic attitudes toward sin.

Now, I could talk until I was blue in the face about how that’s not REAL biblical egalitarianism. I could explain that those views are contrary to the stance of Christians for Biblical Equality, and refer back to Discovering Biblical Equality: Complementarity Without Hierarchy, as complementarians often do with the Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood and Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood. But my protestations won’t make the straw men go away, or keep them from being lumped in with a theological position that I consider to be of great practical importance. And just because someone is on the fringe of a movement doesn’t mean that they don’t have an influential voice within it–in fact, their weirdness draws attention, whether most of their compatriots think they’re nutters or not.

It’s maddening. The labels being used in this conversation are not only imprecise; they can be downright inaccurate and even deceptive. It’s like trying to squeeze into size twelve jeans from Banana Republic because that’s the size you buy from The Gap. They’re owned by the same company, and you’d think they should fit, but yeah–good luck with that.

*cough*

Anyhow. New Wave Complementarian sisters, I like your jeans. In fact, I have a pair just like them. Aren’t they the best?!

Here’s what I think. I think we should reach across the gender divide, lock hands, and refuse to let go. I think we should speak about our beliefs and experiences with honesty and charity, never forgetting that we are beloved sisters in Christ. I think we should trust the Holy Spirit to lead and convict, and be careful not to disparage the work He is doing in and through someone else’s life, even when we don’t “get it.” I think we should keep the main thing the main thing, and team up for the good of the kingdom and the glory of God.

And I think we should consider coming up with a new label. Barnabas babes? For women who passionately pursue and encourage ministry, even in the midst of controversy, disagreement, and sharp cultural debate?

(Okay, kidding, that’s a HORRIBLE name! But I’m only half-joking about needing a new label, for the five minutes before it’s co-opted, anyhow.)

What do you think?

Today’s Equally Yoked post is from Eric Kerr-Heraly who is, it must be admitted, right about the toothpaste.

I should have known that we had not chosen the path of least resistance when we were dramatically kicked out of the Department of Transportation. We had entered the DOT like we had entered marriage, full of hope and perhaps a naïve expectation that the rest of the world would embrace our egalitarian choices as enthusiastically as we had. I did not anticipate that attempting to add my wife’s last name to my own would result in an abrupt dismissal from the attendant at the DOT, but this foreshadowed many challenges to come.

I probably should have been more prepared for this opposition. After all, several people felt the need to remind me before our wedding about my “Biblical” responsibilities as a husband, raising concerns that I was not assertive enough with Lauran and that I needed to take a more dominant role in the relationship. Before we got married, this advice remained mostly innocuous (though usually condescending), so I just assumed it would stay that way. After the wedding, people expressed their disapproval in more flagrant and hurtful ways. Some dismissed us or withdrew from us completely.

I am not writing to complain about these people but to reassure them that many of their concerns have been validated. They assured us that an egalitarian marriage would be difficult, and they were right—egalitarianism is difficult. Lauran and I have our share of disagreements. Egalitarian marriage does not magically erase conflict, nor are our wills mystically merged while we wear our wedding rings. We have our own opinions and desires, and sometimes those opinions and desires conflict.

Some problems have easy solutions—we both use separate toothpaste tubes because I insist on squeezing from the bottom rather than the free-for-all chaos Lauran creates when she squeezes from the middle. Some problems have no easy solutions, and these sometimes lead to hurt and frustration. I must admit that when I am angry and disappointed, I often wish to end the conflict by insisting on my will and telling Lauran that she must submit to my desires. I know many who believe that this is biblically mandated, and in the middle of marital tension, I often wish Lauran would simply submit to me. It would be so much easier. Besides, I am right about the toothpaste.

This is where egalitarianism becomes a difficult choice. As an egalitarian, I believe that Lauran’s opinions matter and that I should submit to her as much as she submits to me. I believe this because the Bible teaches it plainly in the exact same book (Ephesians) many Christians use to support their claims that submission is the wife’s duty only. When we reach an impasse, we stop, discuss, pray, listen, attempt to see each other’s point of view, and keep repeating these steps until we reach some kind of compromise. This process certainly takes more time and patience than it would for me simply to insist that my will is God’s will.

Clearly, people were right to caution me about the difficulties of egalitarian marriage. But living like Jesus is difficult. Forgiveness, love, goodness, generosity, charity, self-control, faith—who acquires these naturally? Love is one of the great challenges God places before us, so we should not expect effortless marriages, whether egalitarian or not. Perhaps insisting on my will would make things easier at times, but I don’t know how I could tell my wife that I love her while disregarding her desires.

To those who claim that egalitarian marriages are impossible, I can only say that you are right. It is as impossible as forgiving your enemies, feeding five thousand families with a few loaves of bread, and changing water into wine. It is just as impossible and just as miraculous because love is transfiguring.

Through mutual submission Lauran and I have learned about humility and self-denial, and the result is a small miracle in which both of us are gradually transformed into the image of Christ who exhibited humble submission even to the point of death. It is that choice that Christ made for us that motivates me to keep choosing to love my wife in the way that I believe Jesus models for me.

And so I keep choosing egalitarianism. It has alienated some people. It has caused some to question my masculinity. And on one September afternoon, it made me get back in line at the DOT to request a name change once again. Our new name is hard to pronounce and even harder to spell, but we welcome the challenge.

Eric Kerr-Heraly and his wife Lauran teach in an American and international school just outside of London, though they originally met in Houston. Since then, they have travelled to 20 countries together, and in July they are expecting their first child. While they hardly ever have time for updating their blog, you can follow them at The Hyphen House.

Next week’s Equally Yoked post is from Jada Swanson.

Want to contribute to the Equally Yoked series? Email Jenny at jennyraearmstrong@gmail.com.

We live in a culture that avoids pain with great effort and ingenuity. Whether it be physical pain, emotional pain, spiritual pain, or relational pain our society has a fix – a means to escape (there are isles of pain relievers). I think during times of struggle, when we are faced with a painful reality, we can fall into the temptation of avoidance, denial, or numbing. Struggle threatens to deaden our emotions, our thoughts, our dreams. However, we are invited to engage the pain of the struggle – not for the sake of the struggle – but for the sake of experiencing a deepening relationship and dependence on God.

Joan Chittister, in her book “Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope,” talks about a spirituality of struggle. She says, “The spirituality of struggle begins with the decision to grow or to retreat, to live a little more or to die a little bit…The essence of struggle is neither endurance nor denial. The essence of struggle is the decision to become new rather than simply to become older” (22-23). Prolonged struggle can cause us to deny the painful reality we are facing, it can make us feel our only options are to either numb ourselves to the pain or to take it upon ourselves to overcome or to conquer the experience. To endure the pain until it ceases or to avoid acknowledging it impacts us.

The reality is we are impacted by the struggles we face and we are not able to truly escape it. The temptation is to keep our eyes focused on the struggle and pain thus, as Chittister says, retreat and die a little bit, or we can seek the one who brings about new life even through death and therefore experience growth and life in a deeper and richer way.

“And some women – you’re a nag. You’re disrespectful. You’re quarrelsome. Being married to you is like a life sentence, and the guy’s just scratching on his wall every day, ‘One more day. Just one more day… Proverbs talks about certain women – they’re like a dripping faucet. You ever tried to sleep with a dripping faucet? Plunk, plunk, plunk, plunk, plunk. It’s what we use to torture people who are prisoners of war.”

Okay, so. Kind of rude, and exactly the sort of “humor” people should expect from his preaching style. But did it really deserve all the blowback it got on the internet?

One of the things that I love about the internet is the ability to engage in conversations about ideas. To hear someone’s perspective, consider it, and formulate your own response. But sometimes it devolves from interesting (if intense) conversations to nit-picking and name calling. We’re like snotty junior highers jeering and throwing popcorn at the rival team’s fans. This does nothing to build up the body of Christ. Instead, it stains it, crumbles it, and wears it down like (dare I say) an open faucet dripping down the foundation of a house.

Here’s what bugs me about the reaction to Driscoll’s latest statement. While a person could certainly take Driscoll to task for his tone (if they considered it their personal responsibility to police his speaking style), there isn’t really an idea here to be responded to. Or at least not a controversial one. Driscoll’s saying that when people act like quarrelsome nags, they make life unpleasant for those around them.

Well, duh.

Now, perhaps Driscoll’s detractors smell something else behind this statement. Perhaps they object to the fact that he aimed his comment at women, when men are just as capable of being a big, whiny, pain in the patootie. Perhaps they suspect Driscoll’s definition of “nagging” is too wide; that he would consider perfectly reasonable questions, comments, and requests a “quarrelsome” assault on male dignity. Perhaps they equate encouraging women not to disrespect their husbands with an approach to gender roles that they do not agree with.

And perhaps they’re right. I am aware that Driscoll has said some pretty rude, insensitive things in his day–far worse than the faucet comment–which is why I don’t listen to his podcasts or read his books. I mean, why would I? I’m not Reformed, I haven’t owned flannel or skinny jeans since Cobain, and I was that annoyingly pious thirteen-year-old girl who went up to her teachers after class and told them that they really should apologize for that unkind thing they said to a student. So yeah, the only thing I’m likely to get from authoritarian, shock-jock preaching is high blood pressure.

But. If people are concerned about problematic thought processes behind the obnoxious but relatively innocuous “dripping faucet” comment, then let’s turn off the tap and address the actual issues. Taking the cheap shot just cheapens the argument. There’s nothing there to respond to, and if we do, the whole thing devolves into neener-neener name-calling and holier-than-thou tattle-tale-ing.

Can I make a gross generalization? Christians have become WAY too reactive. Whisper the name “Driscoll,” and half the blogosphere begins to sound like a pack of pissed-off Rottweilers straining at their chains. Murmur “Bell,” and the alarming speed with which people start whipping out their powdered wigs and magistrate gowns makes you wonder if you should suggest he seek asylum in Amsterdam, before he gets sent to the stake.

I’ve heard many Christians say that we want to be known for what we’re for, instead of what we’re against. But we really stink at that. It’s like we’ve lost our redemptive imagination. A nation at war doesn’t build and innovate–or if they do, it’s weapons used to tear down and destroy, not build up and enhance. So why are we Christians constantly charging into battle with one another? Is it possible that we are profiting from it in some unholy way?

Now, I’m not saying we shouldn’t call out destructive patterns in our Christian community. We should, with great love, consideration, and respect. I’m not saying we shouldn’t engage in robust discussions about theological disagreements. Approached with gentleness and humility, they can help the body of Christ to grow.

But like I said earlier, taking the cheap shot just cheapens the discussion. Getting your tribe all whipped up about the last outrageous thing your theological frenemy said might make you feel self-righteous and powerful (battle usually does), but it will only deepen divisions in the church, and ultimately, the only blood we’re drawing is Christ’s.

Let’s beat those swords into plowshares, and plant something worthwhile.

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Today’s gorgeous Equally Yoked post is written by Caris Adel, to her daughter. 

Dear A~

How can I give you advice on finding a husband, when how I found mine was exactly what the christian dating books say will happen, but with which I completely disagree?

I’m aware that the beginning of our story sounds crazy, as if I imagined it.  God picked out my husband and told me we would get married the second time I saw him.

Because our beginning is the exception instead of the rule, my first piece of advice is that you shouldn’t sit around hoping God finds you ‘the one’.  The rest of my thoughts come from having a relationship I couldn’t have imagined, but that I wouldn’t have any other way.

My hope for your marriage, if you have one, is that you would find someone who is a brick-puller.

There is truth that’s hiding

Behind every wall that surrounds us.

It takes a lifetime

To pull the bricks away. 

-Sleeping At Last

I hope you find someone who is confident enough to handle your soul excavation, but who is fragile enough to engage in his own.  Books and churches will probably tell you the man is to be the leader, and he needs to be strong and true and full of integrity.  They will say it is his job to be a mature enough christian to lead your family.

But we’ve found that to be too much pressure for one set of shoulders.  Years ago I was angry, because they said he shouldn’t confide in me, but in other men.

But this is our life.

If you get married, it will be your life.  You won’t marry an accountability group.

I want you to be a woman who pulls bricks away, and who can handle the weight of them.  I want your husband to be a man who can do the same.  Bear each other’s burdens equally.

As a firstborn, you are strong, stubborn, and independent – a leader.  You will need a strong man to be your equal, but he also needs to be soft, vulnerable, and you will have to remember that you can’t take the lead all the time.

A good marriage is one that alternates between pulling bricks and holding them.  He needs to be able to handle the truth of who you are, who you were, who you will become.  You must be able to return the honor.

Love is vulnerability and safety.  Dismantling walls is not for the faint of heart.  It takes a patient determination to enter brokenness to be willing to face what lies behind them.  Inherited or learned, demons are in all of us, and if you can embrace the fragility of being human, your love will be rooted in depths you wouldn’t have imagined when you said your vows.

Find someone who will pull the bricks away, even after you’ve rebuilt part of the wall.  No sledgehammers here to knock down the wall quickly and efficiently.

No, the love I wish for you is an inefficient partnership.  The one that knows it will take decades to know and know again, know anew, the person that you are.  An inefficient partner who is willing to submit to the slow process himself, showing his own wounds and weaknesses, even though he is told not to.  I want an emotional man for you, even though he is told men are simply logical.

I want someone who knows himself well enough to know what hides behind his walls, but who loves you enough to sacrifice his pride so you can join him behind it.  And I hope you are just as willing to have him hide with you behind yours when it’s a season of hiding.

I don’t know what kind of influence our marriage will have on you.  We don’t scream at each other, so I hope you don’t think that means we never fight.  You don’t hear the all-night conversations we have, or the way we both sometimes muffle our cries so we don’t wake you up.

But I hope you notice when those talks begin in quiet arguments in amongst the flurry of dinner and bed preparations.  I hope you know that even though I stay home, that is not your only option.  I hope the respect we have for each other comes through, and that you know we are both strong and weak in our own ways.

Someday, when you look back on all the years you spent with us, I hope our goal of equality will have been met, that we will have given you a vision of a healthy marriage, not a perfect one.

Yes, I hope for all the traditionally equal things for you – that your gifts and talents are respected and valued, even if they aren’t ‘feminine’ enough, and I hope you don’t end up with someone who has to prove his masculinity and demean you in the process.

But what I really wish for you in your marriage, is someone who is humble enough to simply be your best friend.

You will never arrive as a person.  You will not wake up one day, knowing it all and living it out just right.  There will always be new people, new situations, and new challenges to influence who you are.  Old wounds will resurface and new ones will be made.  Bricks pulled and bricks placed.  Walls dismantled and walls built.

My hope is that you find someone who does more pulling than building.

I pray you find your match, equality, and the joy and freedom it brings.

I love you.

Mom

Caris Adel is passionate about loving people, defending the oppressed, and being a voice for justice.  She’s been married for 11 years, and with 5 kids, somehow finds the time to write about affirming the humanity at www.carisadel.com.

Next week’s Equally Yoked post is from Eric Kerr-Heraly.

Want to contribute to the Equally Yoked series? Email Jenny at jennyraearmstrong@gmail.com.