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By
Wally Goddard
May
I tell you about my wife, Nancy? I wish I could be objective, but
I cannot. She is mild in temperament---we laugh in the family that
she is constitutionally and dispositionally unable to yell. She
is very compassionate---she seems naturally drawn to those who are
lonely or disenfranchised. She is unselfish---she demands no gifts
or considerations. Yet she is glad to serve---it will take half
of eternity for me to repay all the backrubs she has given me in
32 years of marriage. She has a gentle and clever sense of humor---only
those who listen carefully get to enjoy it. She is devoted---her
children and grandchildren know that her love is stronger than the
cords of death for she would gladly die for any one of them---and
they know it. She is uncomplaining---I was first drawn to her when,
on a single adult activity, she fell in a bitter cold river and
climbed into the raft laughing. In addition, she is beautiful---I
love her sweet face and lovely frame. As if that were not enough,
she is also the kindest person I have ever known---bar none.
I
regularly thank Heavenly Father for blessing me with a companion
who is far better than I knew and far finer than I deserve. I cannot
imagine life without Nancy.
So,
why is it that I sometimes get irritated, impatient or judgmental
of my dear companion? How can I explain patches of discontent? After
decades of episodic analyzing and blaming, I have discovered that
my feelings about Nancy are not a measure of her but of me. Just
as our feelings about God are a good measure of our faith, so our
feelings about our companions are a reliable gauge to our personal
goodness.
So
how do we mortals build our dramas of discontent? How do we transform
our early love into simmering (or seething) discontent? Andrew Christensen
and Neil Jacobson, two marriage research pioneers, observe that,
in the cycle of marital frustrations and disappointments, both partners
have valid reasons for their complaints. But “every editor chooses
a different beginning and a different ending. We usually start the
film with our partners doing something to us and end it with our
justifiable reaction. We are good; they are bad” (p.116). It is
human nature (of the natural-man variety) to edit our life film
so that it tells a story in which we are the suffering victim and
our partner is the careless offender.
As
long as we tally shortcomings and demand change, we get defensiveness
from our partner (who can make an equally compelling and valid case
against us) and discontent in ourselves. Just as Satan would have
it.
Accept Your Partner
Christensen
and Jacobson have a surprising recommendation: Accept and enjoy
your partner as he or she is. “Being prepared to accept lack of
change opens up a wealth of opportunities for transforming your
relationship into the peaceful, intimate union you’ve wanted all
along. . . . We have direct control over and responsibility for
our own behavior alone” (pp.249-250). In that heavenly division
of responsibility, we repent ourselves and love others. It is not
our job to change others; it is our duty to love them. “ . . . when
we undertake to cover our sins, or to gratify our pride, our vain
ambition, or to exercise control or dominion or compulsion upon
the souls of the children of men, in any degree of unrighteousness,
behold, the heavens withdraw themselves; the Spirit of the Lord
is grieved; and when it is withdrawn, Amen to the priesthood or
the authority of that man” (D&C 121:37).
It
is amazing what people can endure if they take a positive view of
their situation. I recently visited with a couple that was having
marital distress. We spent almost three hours talking together.
The man was simply the most dogmatic and demanding person I have
ever known. He would not seriously consider any view of anything
besides his own. His thinking was the measure of all truth. His
needs were the measure of family functioning.
His
wife is an energetic and optimistic person. With those qualities
also comes some occasional irresponsibility. But she is abundantly
positive. After several years of marriage he is angry and she is
exhausted. At the end of our marathon session, I felt more despairing
for their marriage than I have ever felt about any. Some days later
I ran into the woman in another setting. She asked my candid assessment
of their marriage. I told her that, for their marriage to work,
she would have to live off her husband’s life script. He was not
likely to change.
I
felt awkward because I was trying to be positive but I could not
in good conscience advise her to stay in the marriage. We were prepared
to help her move. Yet her response to my bleak assessment was “I
can do it! If that’s what I have to do, I will do it!” I honor her
for her resolve even if I wonder how she will find the strength.
(Actually, since she is a woman of faith, I know where she can find
the strength.)
More Charity Needed
I
should note that I do not believe that every marriage can make it.
But the great mass-of-quiet-desperation marriages do not need divorce
but need only more charity in order to flourish. The Gospel of Jesus
Christ is the cure for the common marital complaint. “Whatever Jesus lays his hands upon lives. If Jesus lays his
hands upon a marriage, it lives. If he is allowed to lay his hands
on the family, it lives” (Howard W. Hunter, “Reading the Scriptures,”
Ensign, Nov. 1979, p.65).
Jesus
is not only the Creator of worlds but the Energizer of relationships.
In Him all things have life. As He said: “The thief [Satan and his
servants] cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy:
I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it
more abundantly” (John 10:10).
Abundantly
indeed. If I am unhappy with Nancy it is because I do not understand
or do not honor the covenants I have made. I do not have charity.
I believe that the covenant of consecration together with the marriage
covenants effectively requires me to promise God: “I now covenant
with Thee that from this time forth and forever I will never see
any fault in Nancy.” It is not enough just to stay in solemn determination
while occasionally mowing the lawn. I believe that God expects me
to consecrate not only my time but also my thoughts! Even my feelings!
Certainly
it is better to light a candle on our partners’ qualities than to
curse the darkness that can be found in every soul.
Over
the years I have judged Nancy for a wide variety of human imperfections:
varicose veins, leaving things on the kitchen counter, poor word
choice, a different affectional style from mine, indecision, etc.
God has been working to teach me that, when I have charity, those
complaints and discontents disappear. I can actually learn to enjoy
whatever she is! What a lesson! So, when I am unhappy with Nancy
in any way, it means that I need to get a spiritual tune-up. As
in the Lord’s great parable, having been forgiven a billion dollar
debt, how can I fail to forgive Nancy her $15 (or 15 cent) debts?
(In her case they may only be nickel debts but, being a natural
man, I lord them over her as if they were larger than the national
debt!)
As
we mature in love, it is possible for our partner to become the
working definition of everything we want in a partner. We discard
youthful dreams in favor of the blessed reality. “She is perfect
for me!” Of course every mortal spouse is imperfect---some more
imperfect than others. But a combination of faith and charity can
cause us to say, “This is precisely the person I need to become
the person I should be.”
God
designed marriage as advanced training in charity. Our irritations
with each others’ mortal weaknesses cannot be managed unless we
have charity. Our peace and joy grows as we learn to see our partner
through Jesus’ eyes.
A Path to Joy
Some
scholars estimate that about 70% of the things we don’t like in
our partner will never change. Wow. That changes the whole nature
of the contract. Instead of trying to communicate our discontents
so that both of us can change and become more satisfactory to each
other, we work instead to accept each other. We learn to notice,
remember, and celebrate the parts we enjoy about our partner. We
laugh (kindly) and help each other with our weaknesses. We provide
each other a supportive hand rather than an accusatory finger.
Some
may argue that if there are 70% of the things that we don’t like
about our partners that can never change, what about the other 30%
of the things we don’t like that can change? Gottman’s research
says that they will only change when I accept Nancy as she is. What
a wonderful irony! When I stop trying to change Nancy and simply
enjoy her as she is, then she can grow. Heavenly Father has charted
the path to joy right through the territory of unselfish love.
There
are many related lessons I have learned. If things on the counter
bother me, I can take care of them. When I think that Nancy does
not “get it” (meaning that she doesn’t agree with my dogmatic viewpoint),
I can work harder to understand her perspective. I can make requests
rather than complaints. (It would be silly not to tell her that
I have an enduring distaste for eggplant, parsnips, and---forgive
me Southern colleagues---okra. But I can frame this sharing in the
context of what I enjoy: tomatoes, broccoli, carrots, tomatoes,
corn, peas, spinach, and tomatoes.) When I am in a foul or tired
mood, I can hold judgments and complaints until kindness returns
(at which time I am not likely to have any complaints!)
I
think God designed marriage to help us grow spiritually. The most
important lessons I have learned about being a good person I did
not learn on my mission, sitting in High Priest quorum, or serving
as bishop; I learned them in marriage. But it has taken three decades
of work to go from a selfish clod of complaints to a marginal-saint
who adores his companion. I thank Heavenly Father for the priceless
lessons He has taught me about the sweet joy of love.
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