Marriage is not simply the luck of the draw, or something that we get involved in which just unfolds before us like a long movie. Good marriage, like good individual lives or good art, are conscious creations. They are made.
Kevin and Marilyn Ryan
Last week, having just completed the book What's It Like To Be Married To Me? by Linda Dillow, I was prompted to write a marriage purpose statement, a reflective task the author presents to her readers in the first chapter. For one who enjoys keeping a regular blog, documenting familial tales and daily anecdotes, I have never appreciated keeping a journal or writing challenges such as the one Linda proposed just thirty-four pages into her book. So, I dismissed the challenge and focused on the content of the book. Eight chapters later, I felt a gentle nudging from above to seriously consider putting some thoughts in writing, and two hours later I had myself a marriage purpose statement. Thankfully, both sweet ones are enjoying regular and lengthy naps this summer, and most days I'm inclined to join them, but on this day I was grateful for the opportunity and energy to commit a few hours to the purpose of reflecting on my marriage and my role as wife.
A Marriage Purpose Statement is your conscious creation of who you want to become. It outlines your goals as a wife-the things you can do to become the wife you want to be. Like a rudder on a ship, it steers your marriage boat, so that you know where you are heading. Your personal MPS can be a letter you write yourself, a prayer, a poem, a verse, or a passage of Scripture. It can be anything that declares your goal for your marriage. It is a statement about what is really important to you as a wife.
from What's It Like To Be Married To Me, page 34-35
In an effort to avoid writing a fleeting statement that would soon be forgotten, or one that would ooze unwanted sappy sentiments, I settled on writing an acrostic poem using the letters of the doctor's name, selecting seven words that would represent my goals as a wife and supporting each of them with a verse from Scripture, and personal promise.
Later that evening, in a moment of unexpected shyness, I read Jeff my marriage purpose statement. I was thankful for the momentary hiatus of pregnancy hormones, which allowed me to read aloud my seven promises without weeping. (Seriously, you never know what will evoke the waterworks these days. Attempting to read anything of sentiment was a real gamble.) It was fifteen minutes with my husband that I will never forget. It is my hope and prayer that each time I think of his name, Jeffrey, I am reminded of the seven promises I put in writing, and had the privilege of sharing with him.
No comments:
Post a Comment