I have a friend who believes that her marriage is none of her business. It is God's scheme for recalibrating her into a better person, and understanding the process is as extraneous as liking it. The notion reminds me of Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof. His expectations for marriage spiraled around traditions, bearing children and eking together a roof and bread from a harsh world. Steering clear of Golde's wrath was a higher priority than romance. Love had not really occurred to him. 

 

Things are different a century later on another continent. Many people have elaborate and deeply embedded hopes about marriage. It is supposed to be fun, and if it isn't, well, game over. 

 

While I am a proponent of satisfying relationships, my friend's stance gives me pause. I do not understand the elaborate workings of my heart or stomach or thyroid. But neither do they seem to care. Those hardy organs pump blood and digest lunch and crank out hormones regardless of my level of involvement. If I do my part by inserting food between my teeth, hopefully including fresh fruits and veggies, my body takes over where the molars leave off. While my attention has been diverted to folding laundry, that body is converting spinach into energy. It is not really any of my business.

 

There is something to be said for trusting God on this one. He seems to have the digestive system fine tuned without much help from me. Maybe if I follow the basic suggestions about adultery, lying and coveting, He can transform a tough relationship into a nourishing one.