The Romance of Like

During pre-marital counseling sessions with a couple, they’re usually caught a little off guard when I ask them if they like each other. “Like,” they will ask. “What’s that got to do with anything? We love each other.”

“Like has a lot to do with it,” I explain, “because you will spend most of your time together ‘in like’ not necessarily love.” Here’s what I mean.

Our culture sells us this romantic myth of nights of passion and elegant dinners in expensive restaurants. According to the romantic lie we’ve been told, our days are filled with late breakfasts, long lunches and dinners that last until midnight. The couple in the commercial is always dressed in expensive attire and spend hours longingly looking at each other over their last glass of wine. (When do they work?)

Real life, however, isn’t like that. Most of life is filled up with living. There are chores to do –laundry and mopping the kitchen, taking out the garbage and paying bills. These days, both are working and coming home tired and stressed. Maybe you’ll get in a workout, maybe you won’t. The kids have homework and their lunches need to be packed. If you’re lucky, neither child has just remembered they have a science project due in the morning.

That romantic dinner? If you married a planner, then there’s usually something in the crock pot. If you didn’t, you’re ordering pizza or trying to figure out if you can make tuna fish interesting…again. Want romance? Light a candle. You know, use the candle you have stuck in a drawer in the kitchen in case the power goes out. Both of you now wear sweats any time you’re home.

You ask about each other’s day. You tell stories and maybe watch some TV or listen to your favorite album. You get the kids to bed and then, it’s just the two of you. You both crash on the couch and talk about upcoming bills and discuss if you’re going to vacation with your family again this summer. This is life. Everyday for the rest of your life.

And the one you married? They’re going to be there…every day, every night, for the rest of your life…

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

What you don’t figure out until you become an adult is that most of life is boring. You get up, go to work and come home again. You eat your dinner, watch a little TV, go to bed and get up and do it all over the next day. Somewhere in there, you build a career and raise the kids. You have a few cookouts with your neighbors and go to church with your friends. What makes all of this wonderful, even joyful, is the person you’re doing life with.

One time, a group of young singles and I were doing a Bible study. They asked me what the coolest thing about being married was. I thought for a minute and said, “Sometimes, you’ll turn over in the middle of the night and you won’t quite wake up. You’ll see her laying next to you in the darkness and I’ll reach over and hold her hand. She’ll take my hand and squeeze it and that one squeeze will tell me everything. ‘I’m still here. You’re not alone.’ The coolest thing about being married is holding hands at 3am in the morning.”

It’s coming home from visiting your mother who has Alzheimer’s and being so confused you’re not sure if you’re being a good son or not and having her tell you that if you’re mom were in her right mind, she’d be very proud of you.

It’s hearing the doctor tell you that you have cancer and having her explain again what the doctor told you and that you’re going OK (I’ve been cancer free for 17 years).

It’s hurrying home to tell her you got your first book deal because if she doesn’t know, if she isn’t impressed, then no one else’s opinion matters.

It’s having her tell you your blue shirt looks better than your brown one and the next time we go to our boy’s basketball game you will have to either keep your mouth shut or sit by yourself.

It’s having someone that is always holding you up to your best self.

It’s stories and laughing, little smiles and being intentionally bumped by her in the kitchen.

It’s having her curl up in your lap because underneath it all she’s still a little girl and sometimes the world is just too big.

It’s laughing at her trying to tell a joke and thinking it’s one of your favorite things about her.

It’s a lot of little things that over a lifetime becomes a huge pile of little things. These are things that make life worth living. These are the treasures I have on the shelves of my trophy room that’s hidden deep in my heart.

Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward were married for fifty years. That’s quite an accomplishment by Hollywood standards. One time when Joanne Woodward was asked about the success of their marriage, she replied, “He makes me laugh.”

That’s the secret no one will tell you about. Some days the question isn’t “Do you love each other” but “do you like each other?”

I know tomorrow is Valentine’s Day and yes, I’ll bring Jeannie roses and we’ve planned a little Valentine’s get away. But the secret of our marriage isn’t in the romantic moments – as great as they are, but the moments when we both looked at life and back at each other — then laughed at the wonder and joy of it all.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Jeannie. I love you more than I can say.

This essay was first posted in Scot McKnight’s newsletter.