Beyond Ordinary: When a Good Marriage Just Isn't Good Enough (5 page)

The goal of this book is to move beyond the windshields of our marriages, to uncover the heart behind why the marriage you have maybe isn’t the marriage you desire. Trisha and I want to help you see that the marriage you have is perfectly positioned to become the marriage God has in mind.

A lot of marriage resources focus on behavior modification. Communication. Anger management. Work/life balance. Money management. Improving your sex life. And we agree that these issues matter. It isn’t that they aren’t important issues to deal with, but most of the behaviors we struggle with are tied to broken parts of our hearts, and if we focus on the behaviors and not the root cause, we are not dealing with the issue, only smearing it around on the windshield. More information doesn’t guarantee heart transformation.

We work really, really hard to improve our marriages by improving our behavior, and while these changes might last for a few weeks or a few months, we end up right back in the same rut. Even worse, we try really, really hard to improve our marriages by forcing our spouses to improve their behavior, and we end up frustrated and exhausted; and our spouses feel like they never do anything right.

Those in ordinary marriages believe behavior modification will solve their problems, that spouses can behave their way to an improved marriage. But you can’t behave your way to an extraordinary marriage.

God doesn’t want to improve your marriage; he wants to transform it. God doesn’t want to modify your behavior; he wants to change your heart. Extraordinary comes when you, as a husband or wife, invite God to change
you
.

It is a dangerous prayer to pray—
God, change me
. You know why it’s dangerous? Because this is a prayer God will always answer.
God longs to transform you. As much as you want to change your spouse, as much as you try to modify your behavior, God wants to change your heart. This prayer is where lasting change starts.

Will you pray this prayer? That is the question you will have to ask yourself before moving forward. Will you stop settling for ordinary and trust God for extraordinary? That is the journey Trisha and I want to go on with you. The great news for each of us is that God doesn’t promise
improved
; God promises
new
.

QUESTIONS

1. Describe the vision you had for your marriage when you got married. How close are you to that vision today?
   
2. What are your expectations for this book? What do you hope changes for your marriage after reading this book?
   
3. What comes to mind when you hear the word oneness?
   
4. Are you more likely to pray, “God, change my spouse,” or “God, change me”? Why?
   

Our mission to change the world began at a small church in Sandusky, Ohio. Not even a year of marriage had passed, and we were already expecting our first baby and beginning our first ministry. Barely in our twenties, we found ourselves serving a church in which most folks were somewhere between forty and ninety. It wasn’t exactly the young, hip ministry we’d envisioned, but it was where we felt God wanted us, and we were eager to embrace it.

Our first youth event was a trip to Cedar Point amusement park. Only one student from our church showed up. Her name was Julie, and fortunately she brought two of her friends. That day marked the beginning of our relationship with three teenage girls who, along with us, embraced a vision that would transform the church. Within six months, the youth group grew to almost the size of our adult congregation. Students’ lives were being changed, and we knew we were making a real difference.

From the outside, it looked like we had it all—from a young Christian perspective, anyway. We were broke, but being poor was just part of the package for fresh-out-of-college youth ministers. We were in love, expecting a healthy baby boy, and our ministry was thriving.

However, there was a darkness looming in the background that neither of us could see, a darkness that would turn us from partners into enemies.

TRISHA:

When we moved to Sandusky, I was only eight weeks from giving birth. Because we were both so young and naive, we decided it would be fine for Justin to leave for a youth trip five days after my expected due date. My mom was coming, and she had taken care of me for the first eighteen years of my life. I was sure she could take care of me for five more days.

As expected, our son Micah was born just five days after our one-year anniversary.
Thirteen
of our family members, from both sides of the family, came to stay with us in our two-bedroom apartment. Four days after I returned from the hospital, everyone except my mom went home, and Justin left for his trip.

I never expected the emotions I experienced while he was gone. Although I had given Justin permission to leave, anger boiled over in my heart every minute he wasn’t there. As sleep deprivation and postpartum depression set in, Justin discovered a side of me he didn’t know existed. Unknowingly, I allowed this frustrating and isolating experience to lay a foundation for my dysfunctional behavior for years to come.

JUSTIN:

Ordinary isn’t a destination at which you suddenly arrive. Ordinary is subtle. Sometimes ordinary is a product of intentional choices.
But often ordinary occurs when a couple doesn’t know what they don’t know. That was the case with Trish and me.

We arrived in Sandusky in May, and I quickly developed a summer calendar for our student ministry. Trisha’s due date was the middle of July, and I wanted to take the few students in our new ministry to a youth conference in order to build relationships and cast a vision for what I wanted our ministry to become.

We came home from Trisha’s first doctor’s appointment in Sandusky, and I got out the calendar. The doctor had told us that if Trish didn’t go into labor, he would induce her. Knowing that gave us confidence to plan a youth trip for a week after Micah’s birth. I would be gone five days, but Trisha’s mom would be there, and Trisha assured me that she would be fine.

One of the things I’ve learned in over seventeen years of marriage is that the word
fine
is a four-letter word in marriage. When something or someone is fine, they are never really fine. I didn’t know that then, and I took
fine
to mean, well, fine.

The week after Micah was born was so stressful. We were brand-new parents and had no idea what we were doing. We had thirteen people staying in our two-bedroom apartment. We were sleep deprived. We were getting advice from every member of our families on what we should do and how we should do it. My family was getting on Trisha’s nerves. Her family was getting on mine. Tension was high, and everyone was walking on eggshells. Five days away couldn’t come at a better time. My family left, Trisha’s family—minus her mom—left, and then the next day, I left with ten students and two adults for a five-day trip to a Christian youth conference. I thought everything was fine.

After an eight-hour drive to the conference, we arrived and got checked in. I couldn’t wait to call home to find out how Trisha and Micah were doing. I could tell when Trish answered the phone that things weren’t fine. Trish was breast-feeding and had some discomfort the first week, but that day had been exceptionally bad. She was discouraged, Micah was cranky, and I was eight hours
away. I got the sense that she didn’t miss me; she was just mad at me for being gone.

“I’m sorry that Micah is having trouble eating,” I said.

“It’s fine.”

“Well, remember what we talked about. We don’t have the money to buy formula, so you need to breast-feed as long as you can.”

“I know! Why are you reminding me of something I already know? Do you think I’m trying to make feeding difficult? Do you think I’m intentionally causing it to hurt? Is that what you think?”

“No, I don’t think that at all. I was just saying that we don’t have the money for this not to work.”

Silence.

“I’ll let you go so you can get back to the students,” she said, icily.

“The students are fine. I want to talk to you.”

Silence.

I could hear sniffling that she tried to contain. I could picture the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I just can’t believe you would leave us a week after Micah was born.” She spoke quietly, almost as if she were talking to herself and allowing me to hear.

“You said it would be fine,” I reminded her. “You said your mom would be there and it was only five days. I didn’t leave you; I just went on a trip with students for
my job
. I’m sorry that I have a job and am trying to provide for our family.”

Silence.

“I guess I’ll let you go,” one of us said.

“Okay,” replied the other.

When we hung up the phone that night, a seed was planted in both of our hearts. We weren’t in this together anymore. In Trisha’s mind I was the enemy. I had left her. I had deserted her and our newborn baby. I wanted to be with the students more than I wanted to be with her.

To me, she wasn’t supporting me as she should. She went back
on her word, and what she said would be fine wasn’t fine anymore. She was mad at me for working. She was mad at me for providing. She was mad at me for doing something she told me I could do.

We had spent our entire dating life serving God together, and now, just a few months into our first full-time ministry and just a year into our marriage, I felt as if I and my ministry were on one side and she was on the other. The field had been set for us to move from teammates to enemies.

TRISHA:

When Justin and I got married, we had a vision that we would do life together and would change the world together through our ministry in the local church. But what slowly took place was a shift in our posture of doing life and ministry together, and we began to complain about how the other person needed to change. We went from “I love you so much; how can I serve you?” to “If you loved me, then you would do this for me.”

We were now parents and were at a church where Micah was, seriously, the only baby in the entire church. Although I felt welcome at our new church, there wasn’t one person I could connect with who was in my season of life or who was even my age, for that matter. I felt all alone.

I was struggling with how to be Justin’s partner in ministry now that we had a baby. When Justin left for that youth conference just days after Micah was born, I felt like he didn’t care that I wasn’t with him. I couldn’t just pop in and out of the office. I couldn’t lead a small group or sing at church whenever I was needed because everything required a babysitter. We could barely pay the bills, let alone a sitter.

Neither Justin nor I knew this wave of change would bring about so much internal chaos for both of us. Instead of believing Justin was fighting for me, I slowly began to make him the enemy simply for not involving me in his life in the way I was used to.
I convinced myself that the only way he would value me as his wife and want to continue to be my husband was if I was doing ministry with him.

This was my insanity.

I was a twenty-one-year-old with an infant whose husband now worked full time, and I did not have one friend nearby to lean on. I missed Justin. I missed Team Justin, and I missed being young. I longed for friends—or at least
a
friend—I could enjoy this stage of life with, but Justin was the only person I knew. I was desperate for community. It made the ache to be closer to my family grow stronger by the day.

I’ll never forget the day that Gary and Andrea Keener walked into our small church. They were our age, newly married, and had
BFF
written all over them! I ran up to them and introduced myself. They told me their names, and just like that, the college Trisha who had walked into a dorm room full of girls she didn’t know barraged them with questions. It was friendship at first sight.

Gary and Dre (as I call her) were junior high sweethearts who grew up in the sticks of Ohio and loved everything about farm life. They moved to Sandusky for teaching positions: Dre taught home economics and Gary taught shop. She is bold, speaks her mind, and can cook Bobby Flay under the table, and she has a loyalty and trustworthy character to match. Gary is sweet, soft spoken, and can make or fix anything.

The four of us could not have been more different in personality or gifting, but what we did have in common was a passion to love others. God had heard Justin’s and my cries and gave us the gift of community through the Keeners. We moved—for the fourth time—from our old apartment into an apartment right across the hall from theirs. It was as if we were back in the dorms with friends close by. It’s a friendship we are still blessed by to this day.

Life was starting to feel balanced again. I wasn’t putting as much pressure on Justin to come home every day for lunch. We
both had another outlet for community, and Gary and Andrea seemed to bring out the best in us. Although they didn’t yet have children, it was a someday dream for them, and they loved living vicariously through us yet still getting to sleep through the night. Life was good—I thought.

JUSTIN:

A year after Micah was born, my parents invited us to go on vacation with them to Florida. I didn’t think I should take vacation time so early into my new job, but this seemed like the break that Trisha needed. My family could help watch Micah, and Trish could have some relaxation time to herself. So Trisha and Micah flew from Ohio to Florida to spend the week on vacation with my parents.

About halfway through the week, I got a call from Trisha’s mom. The way Trisha’s mom said my name when I answered the phone, I knew something was wrong. She asked if Trisha was available, and I told her that Trish was with my parents in Florida on vacation. Trisha had called her mom earlier in the week to let her know of her plans, so this made the phone call even more bizarre. I asked what was wrong and if I could do anything to help. My mother-in-law shared with me the decision that she and Trisha’s dad had made to get divorced after twenty-five years of marriage. She was crying, I was crying, and all I could think about was how devastated Trisha would be when she found out.

Trisha’s mom was a wreck, and she didn’t know whether she would be able to emotionally handle having this conversation with Trisha. She asked me if I would tell Trisha. I told my mother-in-law that I would do that. We both decided that my telling Trisha over the phone wouldn’t be the best choice. I would tell her when she got back to Ohio.

Two days later I picked up Trish and Micah from the airport in Cleveland, knowing we had an hour’s drive from the airport back to our house. I would use this time to explain to her what
her mom had shared with me, and then she could call her mom when we got home.

“I need to tell you something,” I said as we left the airport.

“Okay. What is it? What’s wrong? Just tell me,” she said, knowing something was off.

“Your mom called a couple of days ago and told me that she and your dad are getting divorced. I’m really sorry, but she didn’t want to tell you over the phone. She asked—”

“What! Are you kidding me? Divorced! You have to be kidding!” She began to cry. Micah began to cry. She was devastated. She was reacting just as I thought she would—until she started yelling at me.

“This is all your fault!” she said. “You moved me away from my family! You moved me six hours away. I wasn’t there for them when they needed me most, and it’s all your fault!”

My fault? My fault!
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I didn’t move you away from your family. I
saved
you from your family! I rescued you. You should be grateful to me, not mad at me!”

Silence.

Instead of being there for her, I was resentful. Instead of looking to me for comfort, she looked at me with blame. We were no longer working with each other; we were blaming each other. This event began to shape our marriage in ways we didn’t realize at the time. We got really good not at fighting
for
each other but instead at fighting
with
each other. We were good at being enemies.

TRISHA:

After being on vacation with Justin’s family, my young husband told me my parents, whom I’d only known as married and in love, were no longer either. I was shocked, heartbroken, and angry. The life, community, and ministry we had spent the past year building felt shattered in one conversation. If my parents’ marriage couldn’t last, then how would Justin and I last?

This thought process slowly ate away at my heart like a cancer, spreading into other areas of my life. In my effort to control Justin to protect myself, I was only pushing him away. We both started to believe that our marriage would be better if the other would change.

We became so accustomed to living like this that I had convinced myself that I was actually right all the time, and Justin was convinced I could never handle his true feelings and struggles. It was a cycle that crippled our marriage. We would make up and play nice for a while, but before long we would find ourselves fighting again over the same things we had always fought about. This dysfunction eventually became our normal way of married life.