I was at the sink washing dishes when Jake came home.

“It smells so good in here.”

“Your soup is in the microwave, I just reheated it for you.”

He moved aside the kids’ dinner plates and set his bowl on top of the crumbs.

“How was work?

“It was good.”

“Was it busy?”

“Yeah there’s a lot to do, but not as busy as I thought it was going to be.”

“That’s good.”

“How are you doing?”

“I’m doing ok. I don’t know why, I’m just struggling today… I work so hard at one thing, and then feel bad for neglecting all the other things. I’ve been working on this one thing a lot today, and the kids have been needing me left and right. And I start feeling all tense because I can’t get this thing done and then I feel totally guilty because maybe I should have been giving them more attention…And these plates have been sitting at the bottom of the sink for a week and I still can’t get to them.  Why can’t I just wash these plates?”

I went on.

He listened as he ate his soup. “You’re doing great. You’re doing so great.”

“Then why don’t I feel that way?”

He rinsed his bowl off in the sink, grabbed an apron from the drawer, and put his arm around me. “Go lie down on the couch for a bit. I got this.”

He started washing and I started picking up the toys and clothes and shoes in the family room, because we all know I can’t really rest until everything’s picked up and done.

When the room was clean I walked over to where the carpet meets the kitchen floor. “I’m sorry for kind of messing up our date night. I’ve just had a lot going on and a lot on my mind. I haven’t gotten ready or anything.”

He turned to face me as he rinsed another plate. “Don’t worry about it. They’re not messed up, just go upstairs and put on your nice jeans and braid your hair or something. You look great.”

I changed my clothes and started braiding my hair in the bathroom near the kitchen. My hair was knotted from being in and out of a bun for a few days, not ideal for a french braid. I got halfway down my head, my fingers weaved through my hair to hold the braid in place, and a giant snarl was balled up underneath. I walked over to Jake at the sink, one hand with a brush and the other still tangled in my hair. “Can you help me?”

He dried his hands and carefully separated, pulled, and brushed until the strands were free and I could finish my braid.

“Thank you.”

I finished braiding, and he finished washing.

He then showered and got dressed and met me on the family room floor where we raced each other laying cards down in a few games of speed (he won every time) and argued over whose hand slapped the pile first in Egyptian Rat’s Crew (I won). We raised our voices and threw out accusations and couldn’t keep from laughing every time those sevens came around and we had to slap the pile again. We pushed the boundary on card-slapping hand hovering, if there ever was one.

Then we cleaned up the cards and searched Netflix. He got the snacks and drinks, and we settled on a drama because last time he got to choose it.  It was long. We cuddled under a blanket and tried our best to stay awake.

We ended the night with I love you, the kind that means “I’m grateful for you, I really care about you, and I’m really glad I get to go through life with you.”

When we first got married I wondered when our giddy in love, couldn’t stop thinking about each other, honeymoon-phase would end. Not because I wanted it to, just because I heard it always does. Married life is hard, they’d say. It’s great, but it gets real and it takes work. People congratulated us on our wedding, then sent us on our way hoping that we’d make it work.

And we have. We’ve made it work wonderfully well. I wouldn’t call it giddy in love, and we’re certainly not in la-la land anymore, but I can say with complete honesty that after seven years together I am happier than I’ve ever been and even more in-love with him than I was when we got married, by a long shot. We are complements and companions for each other. It’s great. When he’s down I help him up, and when I’m down, he sits and listens, then does the dishes. We’ve learned how to really help one another, and we’re still learning.

I don’t care if marriage takes work because life with him is sweeter.

Sometimes we sit down and plan our lives together. And we get excited about it! How great it is that we have a companion for everything? –for every road trip and movie night, but also for the hard stuff–the decisions, the parenting, and the self doubt. Life’s hard, and that’s what makes marriage such a blessing, we get to go through everything together–every smooth sail and sour patch. And when things do go sour, we turn to each other, not away, even when we don’t feel like it.

We’re in it for the long haul and couldn’t be happier about it.

Since we’ve been married, I’ve grown in ways I never thought I could, or even needed to. And oh how I’ve needed to! We’ve completely given our lives to each other–melded our lives together, yet I am actually more “me” than I’ve ever been. I understand myself better, my strengths and my weaknesses, and I’m happier too. I’m grateful that it does take work, because in the process of working at it I feel like we are both becoming better people. And maybe I’m still in la-la land on this, but it doesn’t seem much like work anymore.

I’m sure our marriage has its shortcomings, but it’s blessed my life enough to give me some understanding of what purpose it is meant to have, and what a blessing it is meant to be.

Remember how God said “Neither is man without the woman neither the woman without the man in the Lord?” and that we are created that we “might have joy?” These two things go together–perfectly. Marriage is meant to bring us joy because it gives us a committed companion, a loyal friend, and a constant support–especially in parenting. It gives us someone to talk to, to care for, to rely on. Someone who feels the same way too. Marriage gives us someone who knows us the best and loves us the most, someone who helps us see where we can improve, and inspires us to want to do so. And God has ordained marriage, which means that we can have heaven’s help in making it work–making it work wonderfully well.

It is clear to me that this union is more than just a good idea, an elusive goal, or a social construct. It is a divine union for an eternal good, and it is central to the creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children. Surely it is not just meant to “work,” but to work wonderfully well.

So I am grateful for marriage and for family life, even when the kids are needy and he doesn’t do the dishes. I’m glad I get to spend forever with them. We are learning and growing in ways we never thought we could, and our joys have never been greater.