Making Marriage Work: A Jar of Mustard, Gardenias, and an Orange Volkswagen
“Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.”
– Philippians 2:3-4
He was the man of my dreams, and I was the girl of his dreams … or so we thought. We met in January, became engaged in March and were married at the end of July. We had met during our senior year at the Christian university we both attended and were just pinching ourselves over the joy we had been given.
The week before our wedding, we intentionally visited 5 couples who had long and happy marriages. We spent an afternoon with Mr. and Mrs. Houston, who lived up the street from my parents. The delight in their home was tangible, as we visited with this former college professor and his wife who had been afflicted with polio when she was just a young girl. Their advice to us was, “Keep the minor things minor.”
Our marriage ceremony was glorious – filled with the scent of gardenias, my mother’s gentle tears, and 8 bridesmaids dressed in all the colors of the rainbow. This was the day I had been dreaming about since I was just a little girl growing up in this country church.
“God! Are you really this good? Does this get to be my life now?” was my instinctive prayer as we drove away in Craig’s orange Volkswagen into a future filled with kisses, kids, and ministry.
Our first fight was over a jar of mustard. We had returned from our honeymoon penniless, and went to the grocery store to try to make it through the week without starving. We stood in the grocery store aisle and disagreed about whether we could afford a 19-cent jar of mustard to go on our bunless hot dogs or not. I wanted to buy it … my dreamboat refused to do it.
I gave him the silent treatment all the way home.
“What was I thinking? Why had I married this selfish man?”
I went for a walk that night without Craig. He was eating his hot dog with no mustard and no bun while I sulked the evening away.
As I walked for over an hour and sobbed, I began to smell the faint aroma of gardenias in our neighborhood. My heart instinctively went back to the joy of our wedding day only 10 days earlier. I remembered Craig’s vows spoken in his sweet, southern drawl and the look of love sparkling in his brilliant blue eyes. I also remembered how I had vowed to “love, encourage and support him.” I was instantly aghast at how I had acted in the grocery store and nearly ran home and into his forgiving arms. He was sobbing just as I was and handed me a jar of mustard. While I was sulking, refusing to talk, and sobbing, he had driven his orange Volkswagen to the grocery store and purchased a jar of mustard for his beloved – yet immature – bride.
Over the years, we have learned to work things out, talk things out, and give grace when it is needed. And, we have remembered the advice of Howard and Mary Houston, “Keep the minor things minor.”
Questions for Reflection:
1. How has marriage refined you into being more like Jesus?
2. What has been the hardest thing about marriage for you? What has been the most wonderful things about marriage for you?
3. What advice would you give to a young couple just days away from their wedding?
