Marrying a gentle man

Three years ago this fall, I was slouched in my college dorm hallway wearing a red coat while Hurricane Sandy raged against the building’s exterior. “But Mom,” I was saying into my cell phone. “I can’t like him. He’s so nice.” We were, if you’ll believe it, talking about the man I eventually married.

My memory keeps replaying this snippet, partly because the weather outside forebodes days of heavy rain, and partly because I ran into an old friend last week who asked me a probing question: “What are the three things that you thought you knew about marriage before you got married but really didn’t?”

It didn’t take me long to think of the first item on the list: Women should marry men who are kind and know how to enjoy them. That sounds obvious, and takes only four seconds to type out. But my lack of understanding this simple pronouncement caused me a good deal of grief before I got married. And even now, I relearn the lesson every day.

As a young teenager, I kept a long list of qualities my future husband should have. The qualities ranged from the absurd to the severe: “Do you mind the smell of garlic?” “Will I be able to look at you and say we have no money and will have to live on peanut butter and jelly?” “Do you want to be a missionary?” “Can you read Greek and Hebrew?” But the item on the list that really counted was: “Are you kind to everyone?”

But in the college years before I met my husband, I made a mistake common among young, thinking women. I started looking for an exciting man who met all my perfect standards instead of a kind one who enjoyed me. I often look back on those two years and compare them to sticking one’s head into a waffle iron. I could have avoided heartbreak and rejection by looking for a man who simply liked me, understood me, wanted to be with me, and offered generous kindness not only to me but to everyone else as well.

Of course, God does not always lead us on the path that avoids heartbreak and rejection—thank goodness. My first hard experience in love, which smashed me like a bug on the impassive windshield of a man who just didn’t like me, grew me up in ways nothing else could. It prepared me for life with a man who was truly kind.

In spite of myself, I fell in love with that “nice” man during the October hurricane. Ever since, our interactions have reminded me of the verse: “God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance.” I found a man whose love I did not have to earn and who, like God, wins me every day with gentleness. I am always learning that his kindness bears a mark of strength a hundred times deeper than the bravado I used to look for.

For a woman, the commitment to marriage can be incredibly hazardous. She trusts her fragile body, heart, and future family to one man for a lifetime. Nothing matters more than that she find a man whose gentleness looks like God’s.