Tag: marriage

25 Lessons From 25 Years of Marriage

marriage

I’ve never felt entirely confident in giving marriage advice. 

Gil and I do not have a traditional story. We were good friends for two years, dated for a month, were engaged for five months, and were married on October 7, 2000.  (I wrote that story here: Exceedingly, Abundantly: The First Decade.)

We moved to Tanzania nine months after we got married, where I had a mental breakdown ten days after we arrived, worked myself into exhaustion with eleven-hour workdays and additional ministry at night, and Gil wasn’t given any of the mentoring he asked for and often felt like a failure. Those first two years, Gil watched dozens of Friday night movies while I fell asleep on the couch next to him during the first fifteen minutes. Fun times.

We moved back to the States two years later for Gil to enter seminary; I was anxious, he was depressed, and we were both a mess a lot of the time. Meanwhile, the harsh reality of infertility entered the picture, and then we had another international move. 

I think that both of us spent a good portion of the first several years of our marriage feeling either frustrated or hurt with each other, and it’s difficult to know how much of that was us and how much was our circumstances. But that’s life, right? Disney tells us that marriage begins the happily ever after, but, well, that’s just dumb. 

But here we are, twenty-five years later. Still married, and honestly, happier now than we ever were in the early years. 

I’ll never be an expert on marriage—I can only be an expert on my marriage. The lessons I’m sharing today might be no-brainers for you, or you might feel a heap of unnecessary condemnation because you can’t see these things applying in your marriage, which looks (or looked) very different from mine. If that’s the case, then ignore what you need to ignore.

I wrote these 25 lessons from my perspective, not Gil’s, but please don’t get the impression that I believe marriage is a one-sided deal. A person can glorify God by loving and serving an unreciprocating spouse, but that marriage will never be happy unless both are loving and serving. 

Yet, at the same time, I think that my marriage went from being often frustrating to almost always happy when I stopped fixating on reciprocation. How much did God change me and how much did God change Gil in that season? That is the mystery of two people becoming one.

Last week we celebrated 25 years for a few days in San Diego, and I praised God for this guy who took me to Africa, is the best dad to our kids, and who makes me laugh, feel safe, and be a better version of myself. He has enthusiastically cheered me on through all the roles God has brought me into, even if it’s meant sacrifices for him. 

When we got married, we had “Ephesians 3:20-21” inscribed in our wedding rings, which says:

Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Well, I should clarify: my ring has that reference inscribed in it. Gil lost his wedding ring several years ago and now wears a substitute we bought for one euro from a street vendor in Istanbul. This makes me laugh every time I think about it and I love that fake wedding ring even more because of it. It kind of sums up the messiness of marriage, doesn’t it? You might read this list and think, Wow, she sure has it good! at some parts and Whoa, her marriage was a trainwreck at other parts. Yes and yes. 

Without further delay, here are my 25 lessons from 25 years of marriage. When I say lessons, I mean I personally learned them. As in, I didn’t do them well at the beginning. Sometimes I was flat out terrible at them. You’ll have to ask Gil how often I practice what I preach today.

  1. My parents were right: Choosing a husband who shares your values about God, money, and parenting means way less conflict. And an extra tip for those not yet married? Talk about adoption from the beginning too. I am continually thankful that Gil and I have always been on the same page about all of these things. 
  2. Serve in ministry together. I can’t think of anything else that has intertwined our hearts more than this. I wrote about it here: A Marriage Forged on the Mission Field
  3. Expectations hurt a marriage. Resentment from unmet expectations makes you unnecessarily miserable.*
  4. Don’t expect your husband or your marriage to be the source of all of your happiness. In our early years, my mood rose and fell on how well our marriage was going. This is a sure-fire way to be upset a lot of the time and anxious for the rest of it. 
  5. Don’t expect him to read your mind about what makes you happy.
  6. Focus more time and energy on finding ways to serve him and make him happy instead of pouting over the times he didn’t read your mind. 
  7. Don’t interpret his motives through your incorrect and unrealistic expectations. (No, he probably didn’t forget on purpose nor is it a reflection of his love for you.)
  8. Don’t expect him to take the place of a healthy community. A marriage cannot hold the weight of a need for close friends.
  9. Don’t expect him to read your mind about what neat and clean looks like. This is simply not fair. If the windows or baseboards are that important to you, clean them yourself. 
  10. Criticizing, micromanaging, or nagging (which are also forms of criticism) are a great way to discourage him from helping. 
  11. Take the StrengthsFinder assessment. We did this a few years into our marriage and it was a gamechanger for me. Suddenly I understood and appreciated Gil in a completely new light. 
  12. Focus on your husband’s strengths. Many weaknesses can be reframed as strengths. Choose to reframe.
  13. Regularly compliment him on his strengths. Do this in front of other people. 
  14. Shocker: You are way more selfish and self-centered than you thought possible. When this becomes apparent, respond in humility, not defensiveness. 
  15. Joyfulness is contagious. So is grumpiness and resentment. 
  16. “I was wrong” and “thank you” are the mortar for the bricks of marriage.
  17. Be kind. Never say or do anything that has the sole purpose of hurting the other person.
  18. Make him laugh. Be ridiculous. Laugh at his jokes. 
  19. Share everything: bank accounts, phone passwords. Well, except sheets. We tried to share for ten years before we realized that we could sleep better and still be happily married with our own sheets. 
  20. You don’t have to share all interests or hobbies, but learning together (reading, watching, listening) about topics that interest you both is a fantastic way to build connection. 
  21. Encouraging him to pursue his hobbies is a great way to love him. 
  22. Jesus said that dying to yourself (and your desires) is how to find abundant life. Marriage is one of the best ways to discover this. 
  23. The more expectations, grievances, offenses, grudges, hurts, etc, you can let go of, the better. Pick your battles and make them few. Let the rest go.**
  24. Make grace your goal. Grace for him, grace for yourself, and grace even when he doesn’t give you grace. Grace transforms. 
  25. Prayer is always a better strategy than manipulation, nagging, or worrying.

Grace and prayer are a great way to end this list. I would love to hear your lessons too!

*Just to be clear, expectations of physical and psychological safety should go without saying. 
**Anything in the category of abuse or major sin issues doesn’t count. Don’t let those go.

A Marriage Forged on the Mission Field

The EFCA blog is doing a series on marriage and asked me to write this one.

A bride and a groom smiling at their wedding.

A guy in college told me that if I wanted to be a missionary in Africa, no one would date me. I didn’t care. And he was wrong. 

In fact, it was during college that Gil Medina came into my life, and we got to know each other while co-leading a ministry in a cross-cultural, low-income neighborhood near our church. The two of us became a team before we were even friends. We hit it off and worked well together: he was the visionary, relational guy, and I was the administrative and logistics gal. 

I wanted to be more than friends but didn’t think he did, so I barreled along with my plans to move overseas. I was accepted with ReachGlobal, agreed to teach in Tanzania, raised all my support and got a visa. 

Meanwhile, Gil wanted to be more than friends too, but kept his mouth shut so as not to get in the way of God’s plan for my life. Finally, some mutual friends helped us break through our self-sacrificing martyrdom and pointed us in the other’s direction. It didn’t take long for us to figure out that, really, we wanted to do this missionary life together. 

When we got engaged, we weren’t sure if Tanzania would be as good of a ministry fit for Gil as it was for me and considered serving in a different country. But then a youth sports outreach position opened up in Tanzania, which felt like Gil’s dream job. We got married on October 7, 2000, and nine months later, we were on a plane out of California. We arrived in Tanzania just a year after my original plan to leave. ReachGlobal got two for the price of one and I felt like I had everything I could ever want: I got to serve in Africa, and with my best friend and ministry partner. The Gil and Amy Medina Team couldn’t have been more perfect. 

Turns out, it wasn’t so perfect.

Go here to read the rest.

This is What 50 Years of Faithfulness Looks Like

My parents, Kim and Margaret Coutts, have been married 50 years this month, a milestone that only 5% of American marriages achieve. They have extraordinary lives, worth writing about. 

My dad was serving as a pharmacist at a military hospital at Fort Dix, New Jersey when a fellow officer knocked on his door and asked, “If you died tonight, would you go to heaven?”

My dad was irritated – angry, even – but couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was just one of many instances in their early adulthood when God inserted Himself into their story, and it wasn’t much longer before they turned their lives over to Him. It wasn’t a flippant decision. It was the beginning of an entire re-orientation of their priorities. 

About four years later, my mom and dad attended a missions conference at First Baptist Church in San Jose – the one whose foyer boasted the spiral ramp that surrounded the two-story fountain. When the speaker gave a challenge, while the background music played, they walked forward to the altar to offer their lives in missionary service.

They spent almost a decade of service in missions in Liberia and Ethiopia, despite my mom crying every single day for the first six months. It was a sacrifice: her own mother refused to write or speak to her for the entire first two years. My mom taught elementary school, and my dad served as head pharmacist at ELWA Hospital, then as hospital administrator.

The year we returned, while still working as chief pharmacist at Kaiser, my dad went on to revolutionize the missions program at Hillside Church in San Jose. He started the partnership with Tanzania that changed the course of my life and dozens of others. He began a missions prayer ministry that has continued for three decades. He led numerous other short-term trips and developed several other overseas partnerships. 

Meanwhile, while my mom taught kindergarten, she launched a ministry in the low-income neighborhood down the street from our church. Thirty years later, that ministry has flourished and is thriving. My mom invested in scores of children in that neighborhood, including taking in two of them for several of their college years, enveloping them as surrogate daughters. 

My parents have done some big things in their 50 years of marriage. But what strikes me the most is how they have been faithful in the little things, the things that most people don’t see. 

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