How hard can it be to adjust to married life? I waited a long time for my prince charming to come along and sweep me off my feet. We were both mature individuals, knew where we were headed in life, and were excited for this new chapter. As we went through the courtship process and got to know one another, Read and I were in awe of how compatible we were. Doctrinally we agreed on all major issues, while still having interesting and inspiring discussions about some smaller details of the Bible. We planned the perfect wedding that went off without (much of) a hitch. Even our love languages were almost identical. We knew we were meant to be.
We returned from our honeymoon to establish our household, and begin our life of wedded bliss. I went back to my job as a hygienist, Read changed his work schedule at Walmart to evenings so he could go to school during the day, and we jumped in with a passion to our new lives.
The married people who are reading this are probably already laughing at my idealism and expectations, and those who aren’t married are wondering what the big deal is. There were definitely issues with our crazy schedules and the fact that we rarely saw one another, but that’s another story for another post.
One evening I came home from work to my handsome husband expecting to have a relaxing conversation about our respective days. I relished the evening meal with my siblings and parents at home because we discussed events of the day and unwound through conversation. Of course, my husband who was made for me would be ready to do the same. Over dinner, I mentioned a tidbit from my day, anticipating his response of engaging the conversation by acknowledging it and offering a tidbit about that or something similar about his day. Instead of what I expected, Read half nodded, stared at me in silence for a few seconds expectantly, and then began sharing with me a doctrinal issue that he had been wrestling with. He didn’t stop sharing about this issue until it was time for bed. Even when I mentioned other subjects that captured my attention, he politely acknowledged them and went right back to his one-sided doctrinal discussion. This continued until 10:30 when we went to bed. I felt confused and disillusioned; wondering when he was going to ask about my day and give me an opportunity to share. I also wondered why he kept harping on doctrine, theology, and kung fu without sharing anything about his day; after all, I knew that was what drew a family together.
This went on for several weeks, and I was getting desperate. We finally talked….numerous times. After much discussion, prayer, and a few tears on my part and long sighs on his part, we made a great discovery: Our families’ communication styles were light years apart. My family took a gentler and encouraging approach to conversations, working to ask questions and include everyone in the topic of discussion. We also liked to talk about the events of our day and the people that we had encountered, the lessons learned, the opportunities to share the gospel, etc. Read’s family catered toward intense discussions of doctrine, theology, etc. Read found discussions about the day and interactions with people tedious and unnecessary; better to skip the details and jump straight into the lessons learned and practical application. Ironically, all of those evenings that I was waiting for him to ask me questions so I could share about my day, he was expecting me to jump into the conversation and start talking; no invitation required.
A compromise was necessary! And I was a Wall, after all; it was time to embrace life outside my comfortable box. I became bolder about introducing my own items of interest into the conversation. I started looking for spiritual discussion topics from my daily Bible reading that would spark Read’s interest and some doctrinal discussions. Read began taking note of the tedious goings-on of his day and his interactions with people to share with me.
As a side note, the first time I watched Read’s family have one of their intense discussions, I got a little scared that relationships were being strained or even ruined as they spoke loudly and harshly to one another and relentlessly interrupted each other. When the discussion concluded, everyone seemed nonplussed and went back to their respective phone, tablet, or computer in silence. I looked around exhausted, wondering when they were going to work through the hurt feelings and harsh words that had been exchanged. When I later voiced my concerns, Read grinned and said, “Oh no, honey. You just experienced a good old Wall family discussion. Everyone enjoyed it immensely.”
The last time several members of Read’s family were at our house, another family discussion began and escalated to loud voices and interruptions. I smiled, relaxed, and prepared to jump in and join the debate when I had something to say, because I am now, after all, a Wall.