Day 2
Read Ephesians 5:33
“However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.”
When I was growing up in school, I learned very early that life involved tests. I was oddly good at math, but writing and grammar were my Achilles’ heel. From grade school all the way through postgraduate work, the message was clear: tests were about one thing. You either pass or you fail. Because of that, I spent countless hours cramming information into my head so I could recall it on Thursday’s exam, only to eject it from my memory by the following Wednesday like yesterday’s newspaper.
In my mind, tests measured whether I was a good student or a bad one. Sadly, I carried that same thinking into my relationship with my wife and even with God.
But if you stop and think about it, that probably wasn’t the original intent of a test. When the first teacher ever gave the first student an exam, I doubt the goal was simply to label the kid as acceptable or unacceptable. A test was probably meant to reveal what had actually been learned. It showed progress. It exposed gaps. It helped both the student and the teacher see where growth was happening.
The test didn’t create the learning; it revealed it.
Because my identity was so wrapped up in what teachers and classmates thought of me, I missed that point entirely. I wasn’t after growth; I was after acceptance. I wanted the grade more than the transformation.
And that brings us to marriage.
Most of us walk into marriage thinking it’s some sort of lifelong exam. We imagine that if we work hard enough, behave well enough, and keep the relationship running smoothly enough, we’ll eventually get to the end of our lives and receive the final results: Congratulations! You passed. You were a good spouse. You were a decent parent. You were worthy of the title.
But marriage doesn’t actually work that way.
Marriage is not a pass/fail system designed to measure our worth. It is far more revealing than that. Marriage has a way of exposing what is actually happening inside us.
If our identity is fragile, marriage will reveal that.
If our pride is strong, marriage will reveal that too.
If grace has taken root in our hearts, marriage will reveal that as well.
Paul’s final sentence in this section is remarkably simple: husbands are to love their wives, and wives are to respect their husbands.
Two words. No long explanation. No complicated theology. Just love and respect.
But here is the key insight: love and respect are not tactics. They are not tricks we pull out when a relationship is struggling. They are evidence.
When a person’s identity is rooted in Christ, when mercy, humility, and selflessness begin taking hold, behavior eventually starts to follow. Love begins to show up. Respect begins to show up. Not perfectly, but noticeably.
Marriage does not manufacture that transformation.
It reveals it.
In many ways, marriage becomes one of the most honest mirrors in our lives. It shows us whether the life of Christ is actually forming in us or whether we are still clinging to the old ways of control, defensiveness, and self-preservation.
And that is not a reason to fear marriage. It is a reason to take it seriously.
Because every ordinary interaction, every conversation, every disagreement, every quiet act of kindness, is quietly answering the same question:
Is my identity in Christ beginning to shape the way I live with the person closest to me?
Do you have a vision for how your marriage reveals Christ’s presence?