Oak-Barrel Love and the God Who Isn’t Finished Yet
Who wants Cheap Yellow Tail? Ugh!
The Discovery Nobody Puts on a Wedding Invitation
I’ve learned something about marriage that usually shows up long after the cake is gone and the thank-you notes stop coming.
The strongest marriages are not built by two people who finally “found their soulmate.”
They’re built by two people who quietly, stubbornly decide they are not quitting—on themselves, on each other, or on the God who somehow believed this union could work.
Renee, for example, continues to believe God is actively sanctifying me.
This belief becomes especially evident when I fold towels. I thought a towel was either folded or unfolded. Renee believes there is a correct, righteous way to fold towels, and then there is whatever it is I’m doing, which she watches with the patience of a spiritual director.
The dishwasher tells a similar story. I load it like I’m under attack. Renee loads it like she’s restoring order to creation. Same dishwasher. Different gospels.
And then there are the pillows.
We now own a king-size bed that cannot be accessed without first removing what appears to be a decorative obstacle course.
I grew up with one pillow.
One.
You slept.
You woke up.
No questions were asked.
Now every night I wonder what’s behind all these pillows. Is it comfort? Is it beauty? Is it a test of my character? I don’t know. I just know I have to move half a department store before I can lie down.
And yet—despite all of this—Renee still believes I can change.
That belief turns out to be the foundation of a strong marriage.
Marriage Is Faith in God’s Ongoing Work
Scripture says, “He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion.”
What Scripture does not say is, “He wrapped it up by the honeymoon.”
Marriage is not a celebration of two finished products. It’s a covenant between two people who are very much under construction.
You didn’t just marry who your spouse is.
You married who God can lead them to become.
That requires faith—because growth is rarely fast, and sanctification is almost never convenient.
Somewhere along the way, we confused love with acceptance alone.
Biblical love does accept—but it also hopes.
It believes God is not done.
It refuses to reduce a person to their current season, worst habit, or most irritating pillow preference.
When you stop believing change is possible, love doesn’t disappear all at once—it slowly hardens.
What Research Confirms and Scripture Already Knew
John Gottman, after decades of studying marriages, found that the couples who last are not the ones who avoid conflict.
They’re the ones who avoid contempt.
Contempt is what happens when hope leaves the room.
It’s what happens when we stop being curious and start being critical.
That’s why Proverbs says the tongue has the power of life and death.
Not because words are dramatic, but because they’re daily.
Every marriage slowly leans in the direction of its loudest voice.
If sarcasm, eye-rolling, and scorekeeping dominate, intimacy suffocates.
If grace stays loud, something resilient forms—even in the middle of disagreements about towels and dishes.
A marriage doesn’t fall apart over small things.
It falls apart when those small things become proof that the other person “will never change.”
Yellow Tail Love vs. Oak-Barrel Love
A lot of people want Yellow Tail love—smooth, easy, affordable, ready fast, and gone just as quickly.
God seems far more interested in oak-barrel love.
The kind that takes time.
The kind that sits in the dark for a while.
The kind that costs more but carries depth you can’t rush.
The kind where patience is learned, not assumed.
James tells us perseverance has a work to finish.
That tells me perseverance isn’t just about surviving marriage—it’s about letting marriage mature you.
God uses proximity.
He uses friction.
He uses the person who loads the dishwasher “wrong” to shape patience, humility, and empathy you didn’t know you needed.
Marriage doesn’t just reveal who you married. It reveals who you are.
The Quiet Vow That Holds It All Together
The marriages that endure usually share one unspoken promise: I will keep letting God change me, and I will trust Him with the pace of changing you.
That doesn’t mean avoiding hard conversations.
It means having them without trying to be the Holy Spirit.
God has never needed your help being God.
He simply asks you to stay faithful while He works.
A good marriage isn’t built by fixing each other.
It’s built by staying while God does His work.
It’s choosing prayer over panic, curiosity over contempt, and hope over control.
It’s remembering that your spouse is not your enemy—they are your assignment.
And sometimes your assignment folds towels differently than you would like.
The Marriage Worth Seeking
In the end, marriage isn’t about finding someone who meets all your expectations.
It’s about standing before God and saying, “I will stay long enough to see what You’re going to do.”
That kind of love doesn’t sparkle—it endures.
It doesn’t rush—it ripens.
It tastes better with time.
So may God give us marriages that are deep, aged, and full-bodied.
Marriages with stories in every sip.
Marriages where grace is louder than criticism and hope outlasts frustration.
And Lord, if You’re listening,
help us with the towels,
the dishwasher,
and the pillows.
Amen.
The Best Is Yet to Come,
Rev. John Roberts
This is a wonderful description of what a good marriage is and is not!