Burritos, Breadwinners, Built to Last

I don’t have a favorite restaurant.

This bothers my husband. Because I know that he loves the Macho Burrito at Chuy’s, the fried alligator at Razoo’s, all the food at Waffle House, and — for some unknown reason — the burgers from Burger Street.

But you know, when people say things like, “Marriage is taking your spouse to their favorite restaurant …” it makes him uneasy because he doesn’t know this little tidbit about me. Maybe he’s just secretly worried that if we ever go on the Newlywed Game, he’ll choke on that question.

That’s the thing about marriage though. Somehow we’ve drilled it down to a few maxims and fairy tales that make us believe that knowing about someone is the same as knowing someone. This same culture is what makes people think that every marriage has to have these little surface level details figured out. So if you go to a restaurant and your spouse is in the bathroom you know what drink to order them … and somehow that means you’re in a good marriage.

The truth is I don’t know what drink to order my husband. I know it’ll be beer, and I could probably narrow it down based on their selection, style, and flavor profile … but he orders a different one every single time because he wants to try them all.

The same thing happens at home. He cooks. He fixes things. We both do laundry and dishes and clean (though I clean more — he focuses on the kitchen since he’s the one that made the huge mess in there). Actually, if you were to look at our lives, you’d see I definitely don’t pull my weight around the house … even though I am literally there all dang day. I do pull my weight on our trivia team, so I figure that counts for a few more things.

We’ve both been the breadwinner at different times. We’ve both been the spiritual leader too. We basically both do all the things whenever they’re needed, because that’s usually just how life actually works for us. Even after 10 years, we’re still learning what we’re good at and what we can do better, and I like it that way.

I used to think my relationship with God would look a lot like what others say marriage looks like.

(Insert all the cliches you can think of here.)

Like if I knew where all the “important” Bible verses were or the right words to pray for each circumstance or the right people to know at church, then my relationship with God was settled.

But just like everything, it’s messier than that. It’s more real than that.

I probably know a lot about the Bible — for sure more than the average person — and even though I connect to God often with my mind, I also needed to be able to really know him … and not just know about him.

The truth is that a faith — just like a marriage — built on maxims is the foundation of sand. It’s not the real thing. It’s like aspartame. It makes your stuff taste sweet but it’s hollow, empty, and the more you take in the more it is likely to wreck you.

Because faith looks different in each relationship.

Yes, there is absolute truth. Yes, there is orthodoxy to hold to. Yes, there are practices we all do as believers.

But my relationship to God will often look different. The way he speaks to me is different than how he speaks to you. The way he works in my life will look different than the way he works in yours. Because we’re different people.

So maybe you don’t have a “life verse” or “come to Jesus” moment or even a favorite place to sit in church … it’s okay.

He will give you what you need. You won’t miss what he says. He will love you like only you can be loved.

And you’re not done learning about, knowing, and loving him … just like he’s not done loving you.