Ten Essential Marriage Habits

Guest Post By Dorothy Greco

As the author of two marriage books, people routinely ask me for a short list of ideas for how to keep their marriages strong and satisfying. I’m not necessarily keen on relational to-do lists, but I do believe that developing these habits will help you to have a mutually-satisfying marriage.

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  1. Hone your communication skills. First, don’t talk more than you’re willing to  listen. If you’re an extrovert married to an introvert, you may need to stop talking before you feel done so that your spouse has space to process and respond. Additionally, strive to become tender-hearted truth tellers. As I write in Marriage in the Middle, being a truth teller does not mean “giving voice to every stray thought that drifts through our mind. There’s Twitter for that.” Our feelings can sometimes be vindictive, mean-spirited, and unhelpful. In those moments, it’s better to stay quiet.

  2. Take responsibility for your contribution to marital issues rather than blaming your spouse. Remember Jesus’s message in the Sermon on the Mount about removing the log in your own eye before trying to take out the speck in someone else’s? Ask yourself  “How or what did I bring to this disagreement or impasse?” Typically, both partners contribute to relational dynamics. When you blow it, own it and humbly apologize.

  3. Forgive quickly and thoroughly. Little things can gradually become big things if they are not processed and forgiven. Don’t forget to actually vocalize I forgive you when your spouse apologizes. And remember, forgiveness is neither optional nor dependent on our feelings. (The call to forgive does not mean that we should overlook abuse. If that’s an issue, please reach out for professional help.)

  4. Commit to grow: both individually and together. God created us to keep learning throughout our entire lives. In fact, we have to make a conscious choice not to grow! We recently hosted a marriage conference and discovered one couple was celebrating their 50th anniversary that weekend. When I asked why they came, the octogenarian husband said, “There’s more for us. Let’s go!” I want to have that attitude when I’m his age!

  5. Develop and maintain healthy friendships. No matter how awesome you are, you will not be able to meet all of your spouse’s needs. Though some needs can only be met in the confines of marriage (like sex), having healthy friendships and being part of a healthy community eases our burdens and supports us when life gets hard.

  6. Live and love sacrificially. Sometimes major sacrifices are easier than smaller, everyday ones. As I’ve aged, my sleep has gotten worse which means my husband needs to get up a bit earlier than he prefers so he can walk the dog before going to work. This is no small thing when it’s 0’dark thirty and the temperature is well below freezing. These little acts of sacrificial love become equity that we can draw on when life gets complicated.

  7. Develop shared leisure activities. A commonly stated reason for divorce is “we grew apart.” We can avoid that by intentionally strengthening the bond between us. Ten years ago, I bought a used double kayak for our anniversary. Initially, Christopher was aghast as we were on a tight budget. But after getting out on the river a few times, he was hooked. Since the pandemic hit, we’ve been going for long walks and watching The Crown. Connecting while having fun should be non-negotiable and prioritized.

  8. Figure out how you can serve together. Every marriage is uniquely poised to serve the larger world. Maybe it’s volunteering in an animal shelter or food pantry. Maybe it’s doing a Habitat for Humanity building project. Christopher and I have been doing a midweek-service at the local men’s prison for the past three years. The options are endless! Being missional takes your focus off any  minor annoyances and puts you in a context to work together.

  9. Speak words of blessing and encouragement to each other on a regular basis. Let’s face it. We can all get discouraged from time to time. Because we know our spouse’s strengths and weaknesses better than anyone else, our words can build up or tear down. When your spouse has done something well, tell them how much you appreciate them. And be specific! Thanks! is good but I’m so grateful that you noticed my tires needed to be rotated and took care of that for me. I feel loved, has more payoff.  

  10. Pray for and with each other. We all know how important this is and probably, many of us struggle to consistently do it. Praying together fortifies and unites us in a way that nothing else can. If this has been a struggle, don’t give up! Set the bar low. Aim for sixty second each morning or each evening. Some prayer is better than none.

Have your own essentials that I missed? Please share them with us. If you comment or share one of your ideas for keeping your marriage strong, you could win an autographed copy of Marriage in the Middle.

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Dorothy Littell Greco is the author of Making Marriage Beautiful and the newly released Marriage the Middle: Embracing Midlife Surprises, Challenges, and Joys.  She also works as a professional photographer. You can find more of her work on her website: DorothyGreco.com.

Meal Trains Aren't Just for Cancer and Babies

I learned how to make pie the year my mom had cancer. She was recovering from surgery over the holidays and confined to the couch. I carried lumps of pie dough and bowls of meringue to where she lay, for her to inspect and coach me through to the right texture. Sometimes, I would walk in and find her asleep, and I would quietly tip toe back to the kitchen and go with my gut and my memories from sitting in the kitchen when she’d baked them year after year. It was a strange role reversal—I was the one in the kitchen, she was the one ill on the couch. I felt maternally protective of her rest.

My dad became caretaker as my mom went through the cycles of treatments, those multisyllabic poisons they pumped into her chest to ward off a deeper evil. I was away for my third year of college, trying to support from afar. My mom dealt with prescription changes and side effects. We all found ways to keep ourselves sane. 

Casseroles and baked pastas would appear and reappear in my parents' kitchen. A friend, who in the following years would win my heart and become my husband, made a chicken pot pie with his mom and drove it to our house. We had friends who prayed, who gave rides, who kept us company on the hard days. They let us vent, cry, hope. They kept showing up. 

There are many families with our story. There are many who have walked longer roads and darker ones. There are many whose story didn’t end as happily as ours. 

For many of us, the Christian community rallied around us. They were a safe place to share the news of what we were going through. We knew we would be met with sympathy, with support, with prayers, and a meal train.

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But what if my mom’s diagnosis hadn’t been cancer? What if she’d started exhibiting erratic behavior or paranoia? What if she heard voices telling her to harm herself? What if depression suffocated all delight? What if, instead of a breakdown in the cells in her chest, there was a breakdown in her brain? What if she had been diagnosed with a mental illness?

For the families I know who have been crippled by mental illness, the response is quite different. They may hesitate to share out of fear or shame or awkwardness. If they do garner the courage, they’re often met with spiritualized criticism or silence. 

And yet they are experiencing a lot of the same challenges my family faced as my mom went through the crisis period of diagnosis and treatment for cancer. They face strange role reversals. There are increased and ever-shifting caretaking responsibilities. They go through cycles of doctor appointments and prescription changes and side effects. A spouse may need to step away from a job, causing financial strain. They feel lonely and tired and wonder if there will be a day when life will return to a normal rhythm. 

The churches I have been a part of know how to support families through challenging illnesses. (And new babies, but I digress.) We have our traditional tools: food and prayer. Sometimes we raise money for medical bills. Sometimes we volunteer to watch young children or chauffeur to appointments. We send cards and notes. We know how to support our extended family of brothers and sisters in Christ. Mental illness shouldn’t be excluded from this extension of love and support. 

Do you know a family going through a mental health crisis or strained by severe mental illness? Respond like you would if it were any other illness. Send them an encouraging card. Let them know you’re praying for them. Take them a meal. Offer to watch their children. Ask them what practical things you can do to help. Be a friend—and keep showing up. 
 

Reformation Reflections: Your Work Matters

In honor of the 500th anniversary of the Protestant Reformation, I'm taking some time to reflect on what the Reformation means today. If you'd like to learn more about the Reformation, see my post "Protestant Amnesia: What's So Important About the Reformation?"


At the time of the Reformation, there was a strong divide the “religious” and the “secular” person. There were those who had experienced the call (or been forced into it), and there were regular folks. There were priests and monks and nuns—and then there were the butchers, the bakers, and the candlestick makers.

There was a shared belief that those in the religious life were doing important spiritual work and had their entire existence set apart for God’s service. Everyone else was bogged down by responsibilities, shackled to earthly things like family and work. They could never aspire to be as holy as those in the religious life, and they were dependent on them, as people who were closer to God than they could ever be.

The Reformation turned this paradigm on its head. Monks and nuns were being called to leave their cloistered lives—and to marry. (Please do not underestimate how scandalous this was.) The early leader of the Reformation, Martin Luther, a former monk, married Katherina von Bora, a former nun, who escaped her convent hidden amidst old fish barrels. They were “tied down” with family life, with children, with guest lodgers, with scraping together an income. Instead of a lesser station, the Reformers saw family life, particularly the raising of children, as a godly and noble undertaking.

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The same was true of our work. At the time, “vocation” was used to describe the sacred calling of monks and nuns. But Luther extended it to include normal, ordinary people, who also had a vocation—a calling—in their work. The work of the every day Christian—the plowing, the diaper-changing, the shoe making—matters.

The commonplace details of our lives aren’t to be escaped or retreated from. They are sanctified as we use them to better love and serve our neighbors. This love of neighbor is what glorifies God—not whether or not our work is explicitly religious.

Luther would say:

“The prince should think: Christ has served me and made everything to follow him; therefore, I should also serve my neighbor, protect him and everything that belongs to him. That is why God has given me this office, and I have it that I might serve him. That would be a good prince and ruler. When a prince sees his neighbor oppressed, he should think: That concerns me! I must protect and shield my neighbor....The same is true for shoemaker, tailor, scribe, or reader. If he is a Christian tailor, he will say: I make these clothes because God has bidden me do so, so that I can earn a living, so that I can help and serve my neighbor.”

So, my friend, if you go to work today with an awareness that your work is a calling, that through your normal life you can glorify God, you have the Reformation to thank. 

If you find yourself subtly thinking that your “secular” work is less-than or a distraction, that the most important work is the explicitly “sacred” work in full-time ministry—I invite you to embrace what the Reformers reclaimed for us. That our God is one of the ordinary. That our work matters. That work is a sacred opportunity to fulfill the greatest commandment to love God and love our neighbor. That all of our existence is worship and an opportunity for ministry. That all of it can be made holy. 

Soli Deo Gloria.

When Marriage is Cleaning Puke in the Middle of the Night

My sweet sister-in-law got married last weekend. I realized only after the fact that it was the only wedding I’ve been in since my own a few years ago. The festivities, preparation, and anticipation had me thinking a lot of our wedding and, perhaps more importantly, our marriage. 

Advice flows freely when you prepare to get married. Some of it’s helpful. Some of it isn’t. But I remember trying to absorb as much as possible because we wanted to “do this right.” I had my own advice to share this weekend, which, if I’m fortunate, will fall on the helpful end of the scale. 

People say marriage is really hard - especially the first year. People also say the first year should be a glorious honeymoon phase. I guess it depends on who you talk to. I don’t think either was the case for us. 

Our first year of marriage was hard in the way life is hard—the humbling of seeing your own selfishness and pride put on display, the pain of being touched by the brokenness of the world. But it was also beautiful in the way life is beautiful—simple, surprising, soul-swelling. 

I remember during my college years my mentor telling me a story about her early marriage...

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The Child, The Mimic

In the picture, I’m standing beside my mom in front of the kitchen sink. I’m probably two or three, standing in my bare feet on the smooth dark wood of a kitchen chair. A gray and white striped dish towel is tucked into the neck of my white T-shirt like a rudimentary apron, hanging down well past the elastic waistline of my bright yellow shorts. I’m grinning at the camera, a dripping, sodden dishcloth in my little hand. The containers within my reach are partially filled with water, ringed by clumps of soap suds. A flood of water spreads over the peach counter, dripping over the edge, slipping down the front of the wooden cabinets onto the floor.

I was helping my mom “wash dishes”—and the counter and floor as well, by the end of it. We didn’t have a dishwasher growing up, so everything had to be done by hand. Her hands would be submerged in the soapy dishwater, scrubbing plates, cups, forks, and pots. Of course, I wanted to help—and I mimicked her in my own sloppy, flood-inducing way.

I cut my doll’s hair, like she cut mine. I baked miniature cakes in my Easy Bake oven, like she did in the big one in the kitchen. My little eyes and ears absorbed my world, and my little hands and mouth mirrored it back. 

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