The seven habits of highly effective marriage partners

What to do after the wedding?  What happens after writing thank you notes, storing the wedding dress, returning tuxes, making photo selections, and editing the wedding DVD?

After the wedding, a marriage happens, that’s what.

I usually ask people who want me to perform their wedding why they want to get married. In my 29 years of pastoring, I've never had a couple say, “We want to argue, fuss and fight and ignore each other until our marriage is virtually dead so we can go to divorce court. That’s our plan.”

It’s never happened.

Not once.

But that’s exactly what I see too often with couples who spend months planning for a wedding without giving much if any thought to how they are going to live their lives together.

It’s the habits they develop after the wedding that make the difference between a thriving marriage and a languishing one.

Successful marital partners engage in several habits. From time to time, I ask my wife how I’m doing with these, because good habits are hard to make and easy to break while bad habits are easy to make and hard to break.

First, watch what you say. Communication is vital to a fulfilled marriage. It’s how we express our feelings. Use words that build up your partner. Say things like: “You’re beautiful to me. I’m blessed to be married to you. Thank you for being who you are.” Practice listening intently to your spouse. Take in what your partner is saying instead of thinking about how long you have to wait until you can talk. And, remember communication is more than just words. As Dr. Phil has said: “Only 7 percent of communication is verbal. Actions and non-verbal communication speak much louder.”

Secondly, keep dating. No, not other people. Date yourselves. Make a date with each other and keep it, just as if you were in the early stages of your relationship. It’s healthy for partners to spend time with friends, but make time just for yourselves too. It doesn’t have to be an expensive date. Lori and I have a date with each other once a week, even if it’s just pizza and a movie at home.

Third, seek common ground. Habit four in Stephen Covey’s The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, is “Think Win/Win.” It’s a habit that should be incorporated into every marriage. Seek common ground, especially when conflicts arise. And they will. So be prepared. Make sure you understand your partner, and give each other the freedom to express feelings without the fear of being judged for them. If you have to win every argument, you are putting you and your spouse in a lose/lose situation.

Fourth, remember there is more than one way to have sex. Don’t worry, I’m not going E. L. James (50 Shades of  Grey) on you. Sex is more than simply getting physical.  Quiet conversations and cuddling can be intimate moments. I read where couples that pray together have more satisfying lovemaking. It makes sense: Praying together is itself an intimate time. It strengthens the bond of trust and can therefore enhance the physical aspect of your relationship.

Fifth, remember little things make a big difference.  I thank Lori when she unloads the dishwasher, and she thanks me for taking out the trash.  It doesn't take much time to express appreciation. Be sincere in what you say.  Use words like, “I appreciate you for…” Be specific. And don’t be afraid to ask what you can do to be a better spouse. You might be surprised at the answer you get. I ask Lori that question from time to time. Once, she told me to quit clinking my glass on the cabinet early in the morning. I didn't realize I was doing that. A simple coaster took care of my annoying habit.

Sixth, forget about changing your spouse. Work on yourself instead. Resist the temptation to think that if your partner were better, you would be too. Start with bettering yourself. Don’t let familiarity breed laziness so that you get sloppy in the way you take care of yourself. That doesn't mean you have to stay in your dress clothes all the time.  But not paying attention to your appearance can become a bad habit that communicates an “I don’t care” attitude toward your relationship.

Seventh, laugh out loud.  It truly can be the best medicine for your marriage. So often we take ourselves too seriously. Laughter is not only a stress reliever, but it can improve your immune system and relieve pain, according to research at the Mayo Clinic.

Make a habit of practicing these habits. You don’t have to be married for them to work for you. I’m sure there are more, but start here with these seven and watch your relationships and life grow.

Religion gone wrong

“I just want to say that I love Allah.”

These aren't the words of one devotee of Islam peacefully whispering to a fellow follower during a quiet moment of worship. Instead it is a statement made by Amine el Khalifi---formerly Christopher Lee Cornell, an unemployed deejay---to the judge at his sentencing of 30 years in prison after pleading guilty for planning to detonate pipe bombs inside the U.S. Capitol in Washington and then gun down people as they fled the building.

El Khalifi, a 21 year old native of Ohio, has been labeled a lone wolf by the FBI but who nonetheless, posed a clear threat: "The difference here is not just the clear intent to strike us here, but the pursuit of the capability to be able to conduct that attack…," said FBI Assistant Director Andrew McCabe.

One of the undercover videos shows el Khalifi in a store buying nails--- shrapnel for his body bomb---and later bragging about the size of the nails, talking about the damage he can do.

“Thick ones, I got, thick ones, not thin ones. The ones that gonna make damage, right,” el Khalifi said on the secret recording.  

It’s chilling.

This is not the first time since 9/11 we have witnessed horrific acts or such planned attacks in allegiance to Allah.  

But, the years since 9/11 are not the only ones that the dark side of religion has cast a frightening shadow over certain people. Had I been a Jew in Spain during the Spanish Inquisition, (Jews were given four months to convert to Christianity or leave Spain), I would not have been exactly at ease.  For years the Inquisition hounded dissenters, from Protestant Reformers to scientific thinkers like Galileo, and yes, Muslims too. It was all officially done in the name of God, in allegiance to and love for him, to save people from hell and protect the purity of the church.

Religion gone bad did not begin with The Inquisition, of course. The New Testament records Jews persecuting Christians. And it was a Christian leader, the brilliant Bishop of Hippo, Augustine (340-430) who at least legitimatized some methods for persecuting those deemed to be heretics, tactics which included fines, imprisonment, and mild floggings. In time, heretics would be burned. Augustine would have been horrified.

The dark side of Christianity wasn't confined to Western Europe. In the United States we've had the Salem Witch Hunts, preachers justifying slavery and racial discrimination by misusing the Bible, Jim Jones, David Koresh, and Westboro Baptist Church.

It almost makes you want to agree with Dr. Gregory House (House, TV series), “If you could reason with religious people, there would be no religious people.”

It’s fascinating how religion can be used by some on the one hand as a vehicle for experiencing the wonder of a loving God and expressing his love in selfless deeds of good will and peace to all and likewise, on the other hand, by people who use it as a motivation for destruction.

Dr. Charles Kimball, Presidential Professor and Director of Religious Studies at the University of Oklahoma, has written extensively on this subject in, among other works, When Religion Becomes Evil (2002), and When Religion Becomes Lethal (2011).

“When anybody believes that he or she somehow knows the mind of God and knows what God wants for them and for everybody else, then you have the potential for catastrophe because…they can justify anything. It’s not what I’m doing; it’s what God wants me to do.”

Hence, for example, el Khalifi believed God was telling him to seek revenge by killing Americans because of the U.S.’s war on terror.

“This is not about happiness. This is about Allah. This is not about, you know, us anymore. It's about Allah," el Khalifi said on the surveillance recording.

Misguided people displace their hatred and thirst for revenge onto God, justifying their actions with excerpts from sacred texts mainly taken out of context.

What can we do?

Kimball quotes renowned theologian, Harvey Cox: “The possibility of self-annihilation requires us to put all our questions not in the form, What will happen? But rather in the form, What must we do…We must take the initiative, not just to predict the future---including the future of religion—but to shape it.”

It’s a long shot, but I still believe there is hope as long as we have the courage to confront hateful rhetoric in our own faith traditions, as long as we speak up, refusing to resign ourselves to a deferential silence that gives the stage to the violent, daring to call evil what it is, and steadfastly speaking the truth with love. If we can do that, there is at least a chance for peace.  The future is uncertain and fraught with danger, but nonetheless I hope. And hope in due time can blossom into peace.

After all, it was Jesus of Nazareth who said on the night before his execution at the hands of religious extremists, “In me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

Hoping in him, I seek peace.

And work to maintain it.

Let it go, let it go

Lori and I were putting up groceries while our two year old grandson, Eli, was making himself at home, sitting there cross legged on the kitchen cabinet, chomping on a cookie. He reached for a frozen pizza I had set next to him.

“You can’t have that, Eli,” I smiled. “It’s frozen.”

At the word, “frozen,” he promptly began singing, “Let it go, let it go, let it go.”

Lori laughed; I was confused.

She had to explain that “Let It Go,” is a song from the animated Disney movie, Frozen.

I was clueless, so Lori pulled it up on her phone.  Seconds later we were listening to Idina Menzel belt out the words, “let it go,” while Eli sang right along with her.

Frozen has been immensely successful, the highest-grossing animated movie of all time, and a huge reason is the soundtrack. Since Disney uploaded the song, “Let It Go,” it has attracted almost 180 million views.

It‘s one of those songs that gets stuck in your head, one that kids love to sing over and over and over and makes parents wonder why they ever let the kids hear the song in the first place.

I know I’m taking the song out of its context, but “let it go,” can be a powerful mantra if it means being liberated from past mistakes that keep you from becoming who you are meant to be.

The inspiration for the song, according to composer Robert Lopez, who co-wrote it with his wife Kristen Anderson-Lopez, came from their two daughters. Lopez told the Los Angeles Times the song was meant to "instill in them the idea that fear and shame shouldn't prevent them from being the magical people they really are." 

For most people, that’s not going to happen as long they keep it and refuse to let it go. By “it” I mean emotions such as resentment, fear, anger, and hostility---feelings harbored because of wrongly placed identity labels that plague people and tie them to a destiny they were never meant to fulfill.

Becoming the magical, unique person you are intended to become involves letting some things go.

But ah, the strange satisfaction that many people have in keeping it instead of letting it go, that bizarre pleasure of nursing hurts---some from personal failure, others from undeserved assaults---that indulgence in misery that is part and parcel of tucking those injuries into the deepest, darkest places of the psyche, that habitual massaging of them that enables them to become an inner haven of comfort and justifies the refusal of letting it go.

But there are consequences that come with keeping it instead of letting it go.

A potent mixture of bitterness, anger, hostility, and resentment have specific physiological consequences, including increased blood pressure and hormonal changes linked to cardiovascular disease, immune suppression and even impaired neurological function and memory, according to research cited by Jordana Lewis and Jerry Adler (washingtonpost.com).

Living a life characterized by retribution--- the constant desire to seek revenge and air every grievance---is detrimental to your health. Living a “let it go” kind of life is actually health enhancing.

As Dr. Dean Ornish, Clinical Professor of Medicine at the University of California,  San Francisco, put it, “When I talk about forgiveness, I mean letting go, not excusing the other person or reconciling with them or condoning the behavior…Just letting go of your own suffering.”

It’s a concept that’s grounded in Scripture. One of the words translated from the Greek, the language of the New Testament, for the word, forgiveness, literally means to “send away,” or “let go.” 

Matthew used the word, for instance,  in his Gospel to record what Jesus said in that portion of the Sermon on the Mount  we call The Lord’s Prayer: “Forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us” (Matthew 6 :12).

If Jesus told his followers to ask God to let it go when they had sinned, why can’t we let it go with others?

Undoubtedly, there are wrongs all of us need to let go.

Eli sings “let it go,” not for past personal failure or wrongs done to him by others,  but more likely because of something musicologists call “earworms,” tunes with long notes and intervals that are very close together and somehow make for musical compositions that lend themselves to repetition.

But I hope Eli will one day experience the freedom that comes with letting it go.  For as much as I would love to prevent it, not all that is good will always happen to his now innocent self. And when bad things do happen, whether they’re self-inflicted or done by others, all we can hope for is the grace to let it go.

It’s not about the knots

Two days after Christmas I surprised my wife with a post-Christmas present. It had been somewhat of a blue Christmas for her, and I thought my gift would help.

So I gave her a rope.

“A what?” you incredulously ask. “A rope? Really?”

Maybe you’re thinking my gift ranks right up there with Barney Fife (Don Knotts, The Andy Griffith Show) giving his mom and dad a septic tank for their anniversary.

“They were thrilled. Two tons of concrete, all steel reinforced,” Barney informs Andy Taylor (Andy Griffith).

Andy: “You’re a fine son, Barn.”

Barney: “I try.”

If it makes you feel any better, I also try, and yes, believe it or not, Lori was thrilled with the rope.

Perhaps I should explain why.

The rope I gave her was not just any ol’ rope. It was a “komboskini,” which is a transliteration from the Greek language for “prayer rope.” It’s sometimes called a “chotki” which is the transliteration from the Russian, also meaning “prayer rope.”

Prayer ropes are used by Eastern Orthodox Christians to pray what is known as, “The Jesus Prayer,” a short and ancient form of prayer, the words of which are, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner.”

An Eastern Orthodox priest introduced me to the prayer rope several years ago when he, like I, was on a retreat at Gethsemani Abby. I was inspired to put this prayer into practice after I read the book, The Way of a Pilgrim, which was written by an anonymous Russian Christian. The book chronicles the author’s travels through mid-nineteenth century Russia and Siberia as he visited monasteries and shrines to the saints in order to “prayer without ceasing.”

“Reject all other thoughts (you can do this if you will) and allow that faculty to repeat only the following words constantly, ‘Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me.’ Compel yourself to do it always. If you succeed for a time, then without a doubt your heart also will open to prayer,” he wrote.

The practice of the Jesus Prayer predates The Way of the Pilgrim, and can be traced to the 5^th Century where it was utilized by the monastic Desert Fathers.

So I bought a prayer rope and began praying The Jesus Prayer, most often early in the morning, but also through the day.

It’s not complicated. Indeed, the beauty of the prayer is its simplicity.

Prayer ropes work like prayer beads only with knots instead of beads.  You can purchase prayer ropes with 33, 50, 100, 300, or 500 knots. I got Lori one with 100 knots because that’s what I have, and we can meditate together for about the same length of time. I breathe in and repeat, “Lord Jesus Christ,” and breathe out, “have mercy on my a sinner,” while lightly holding the rope with my left hand, moving from knot to knot as I pray. In the process, the exact words of the prayer sort of disappear, so that they are there but not there, kind of like the background music in an elevator.

It’s my way of centering myself in the direction of God. Praying through the prayer rope helps me practice mindfulness, a moment by moment awareness of things I would not normally pay attention to.  It opens me to the possibility of practicing the presence of God through the day and evening. And, since I am not by nature a calm person, it has worked wonders to slow me down. At the more deliberate and less frantic pace, I actually accomplish more.

And Lori, through these years, noticing its effect in me, expressed an interest in the prayer.

Hence, my gift of the rope to her.

I admit that I often struggle through those knots, fending off the temptation to rush, frequently refocusing and gathering my scattered thoughts.

But like Thomas Merton, I believe the very desire to please God does in fact please him, even when our efforts meet with difficulty or even failure.

You see, the prayer is not about the knots.  It’s not about learning a method; it’s about turning the mind Godward. Using the prayer rope is certainly not the only way I pray, but it has enhanced the other forms of prayer. As Dom Chapman wisely said, “Pray as you can, don’t pray as you can’t.”

No, it’s not about knots; it’s about getting there, to that sacred place, into the Presence.

And enjoying the company of the One who has mercy on us, sinners.

Twas the night before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas…

…and nothing happened, at least not much out of the ordinary.

The inn in tiny little Bethlehem had no vacancies, and people without a place to stay were surely aggravated with the inn keeper. Nothing unusual about that. Other citizens were likely agitated with all the extra traffic, all those people rushing back to their place of birth to register for the census. Impatience would be the expected, normal behavior in those circumstances. And Roman soldiers in Bethlehem, like ones in thousands of places across the empire, probably griped about being stationed in a backwoods, hick town. It was business as usual in the overcrowded, little town of Bethlehem.

Unlike the Santa who arrived with such a clatter that he awoke the father in Charles Moore’s poem, Jesus’ arrival was quiet, except perhaps for his and his mother’s cries at childbirth. The two unusual, indeed miraculous events surrounding his birth that did occur happened to unlikely people in out of the way places: the angels’ appearance to shepherds in the field outside Bethlehem and the star to the Magi somewhere in the east.  

No trumpets announced his birth. No one was forced to bow to the baby king. No words of allegiance to him and his kingdom were recited.

I think Jesus intended it that way.

It’s just like him.

He doesn't intrude into people’s lives.

Think about the people who missed the first Christmas: The innkeeper, hustling to make sure he had every room occupied and paid for, missed Jesus; the religious leaders, who had been waiting for the Messiah, searching their Scriptures for clues of his arrival, got so caught up in their religious activity that they missed him when he finally came; the Romans missed him too, for they were too preoccupied with their own pantheon of gods. 

It’s easy to miss God when he shows up in the flesh, smelling like a baby.

He did come to us that first time, and when he returns, the Scriptures say his presence will be undeniable.

But what about now, this Christmas? Most people will miss him just as they did the first Christmas.

Instead of staying in the five-star hotel, like we might think, he sleeps under the stars; we expect to find him swaggering down the aisle of the largest church in town, and instead he quietly worships in the shadows; we suppose he will march on Washington, making a powerful statement that he is the man in charge now, but instead he sits down in a park, lets the children crawl all over him, then  shares a meal with the homeless while telling them about life in a different kind of  Kingdom.

It’s easy to miss Jesus, not because he doesn't want us to find him. We miss him because we pass by him on the way to someone or someplace else that’s more important to us than he is, for we mistakenly think we aren't that important to him.

I read about a church in Baltimore that years ago found something amazing right there in the wall of their church, something everyone had overlooked. It had been “hiding” from them for more than 25 years. Someone finally recognized a piece of art for what it truly was: a valuable woodblock print by Albrecht Durer, dated 1493. It depicted The Annunciation, the scene where the angel Gabriel told Mary she would give birth to God’s Son. Many of the church members had a difficult time believing it was a genuine masterpiece, for after all, they reasoned, “Why would something that valuable be in a place like this?”

We ask the same question today.

And so we walk on by Jesus, for surely he wouldn't be here in this ordinary place where plain people like us live, surrounded by the dull, drab walls that encase our dull, drab lives. 

But his Presence, his Spirit, is here, because we are that valuable to him. And so he watches us, waiting for us to recognize him for the Person he really is, so we can know and be the people we really are.

He looks for us to look for him.

He intended it that way.

The Blessing of the Hands

“I don’t think he’s going to make it through the ceremony,” my daughter Madi predicted of her two year old son, Eli.  We were standing in the foyer of Ransdell Chapel for Madi’s Pinning Ceremony. She was graduating from Campbellsville University’s School of Nursing.

I was already proud of Madi and wanted to be there for this special moment but found myself dreading the ceremony itself. All I knew about the Pinning Ceremony was that it was supposed to last about two hours. Not knowing what to expect, and imagining speaker after speaker droning on and on about Lord knows what, I had brought a book as a diversion.

I would never open the book.

First Eli’s daddy, John, and then Eli’s Gigi---my wife, Lori--- tried keeping him calm. But every time the little guy would see Madi on the stage, he would cry out, “Momma, I wanna go see Momma.”

Here I saw an opportunity to exit the ceremony. All I wanted, after all, was to see was the part where my daughter received her pin.

“Come on, let Pop Pop take you,” I said as I lifted Eli.

“Don’t let me miss the actual Pining Ceremony,” I whispered as I tiptoed toward the exit with Eli in my arms.

The cool night air was refreshing, and soon Eli and I had found cupcakes in the University’s Student Center. Eli was on a sugar high, and I was congratulating myself for my adroit escape from the preliminaries to the Pinning Ceremony when John text messaged me: “We are getting ready to pin.”

“Drats,” I said as I hurriedly wiped the icing from Eli’s smiling face. “We've got to hustle back over there, boy.”

“Getting ready,” is a relative term when they pin the graduates in alphabetical order, and since Madi Walls is a “W,” we had to keep Eli occupied from A-V. 

As Lori placed the pin on Madi’s collar, I whispered, “We’re proud of you.”  

Then Eli reached out to Madi as John held him: “Momma,” he cried as we stepped down from the stage.

I heard a collective, ‘”Ahh,” from the audience.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I thought we were done.

And then something happened that drew me back in.

“The graduates will now participate in the “Blessing of the Hands Ceremony,” I heard the Dean of the School of Nursing announce.

“Hmm,” I thought, “what’s this?”

Then the Reverend Dr. James Jones took each nurse by the hand, rubbed oil onto their hands, and blessed them.

Since Campbellsville University is a private Christian based institution, I thought this ceremony was unique to this particular school.  But the Blessing of the Hands is a tradition in nursing practiced worldwide by a variety of institutions.  It’s been a part of nursing graduation ceremonies since the time of 19^th century nurse, Florence Nightingale, the founder of modern nursing.

“Blessing of the Hands,” I whispered aloud to myself as I watched the nurses file by Dr. Jones, holding out their hands for him to bless.

I thought of the people these nurses’ hands would bless across the years: touching babies at the beginning of life, soothing people in the throes of pain at other times, and closing the eyes of the deceased at the end of life.

And suddenly being wrapped up in that moment, I didn't care how long the ceremony lasted.

For in their blessing, I had been blessed, blessed with a glimpse of what already is and will continue to be in a future place and time where blessed hands reach out to touch others, giving people hope, perhaps, even healing them, and helping---at least a little---to mend this broken world.

A Simple but Life Changing Way to Get Ready for Christmas

The Bluegrass Country around Lexington, KY., not far from where I live in Lebanon, KY., is home to some of the finest racehorses. It’s exciting to watch the horses bolt from the starting gate as the sound of their hooves thunders across the track.

That’s the picture I have of so many people at the start of Christmas season. Facing a flurry of activities on the way to what appears to be the finish line on December 25, they race until they practically fall flat, exhausted from trying to live up to the demands of the season.

I don’t think it is meant to be that way, do you?

We may not be able to change the consumer driven culture that seems intent on spurring us into a hyperventilating gallop during this time of year, but we can face it with a sense of peace. Instead of racing like a horse, try distancing yourself from the track and maintaining a larger, spiritual perspective. After all, it is Christmas.

It’s the season of Advent. The word means “coming” or “arrival.” Christians look back and celebrate the incarnation of Christ as he came to us the first time even as they look forward to his second coming. We live in this “in between” time. As Bernard of Clairvaux said: “In his first coming our Lord came in our flesh and in our weakness; in this middle coming he comes in spirit and in power; in the final coming he will be seen in glory and majesty.”

What can we do to experience more of him during this “in between” time? Let me suggest something very simple yet something so dynamic it will change your life: Begin and end your day with some quiet time, allowing yourself a moment to repose and reflect as you give your spirit some growing space.

It’s as simple as that. I find that too many people get so caught up with their “to do” list that they leave out the most important “do,” spending time alone with the Lord.

I've learned by hard experience that if I leave out this time, my attitude takes on more of the world and less of the Lord. I tend to forget whose I am, and if I keep on neglecting time with him, I lose the spiritual perspective so necessary to keep on course. I race around and around the track, accomplishing little of true significance, reaping mainly frustration and exhaustion.

During Advent, Lori and I have been starting the day with prayer and meditation.  Then we read the Scriptures for Advent found in The Book of Common Prayer. There are passages there for morning and evening. We talk briefly about them, share readings from several devotional books, and then conclude with prayer.

Christmas can be a challenging time for all of us, especially those who have suffered loss and are lonely. Beginning the day with solitude can help alleviate feelings of despair, keeping us in touch with an eternal source of comfort, reminding us that though we may experience loneliness, we are not abandoned: The one whose birthday we celebrate this season does care.

How we begin the day helps set our attitude for the rest of the day. Jacquelyn Smith (businessinsider.com) observes that successful people have a habit of starting their day in certain ways: They reflect, building in quiet time and solitude first thing the morning, pausing to be present before tackling the workday.

Successful people have also incorporated the routine of smiling and laughing at the beginning of the day.

And they begin the day with gratitude. "A great way that successful people start their day is to identify something they're grateful for,” notes Lynn Taylor, national work place expert. “It’s motivational and reminds them to put small things in perspective.”

I begin the day using one of Zen Master, Thich Nhat Hanh’s mantras: “Waking up this morning, I smile. Twenty-four brand new hours are before me. I vow to live fully in each moment and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion.”

The point is, find something---a book of Scripture readings, devotional material, perhaps uplifting music---that you can use at the day’s beginning and end, for how we conclude the day prepares us for the next morning.

Then you will arrive at Christmas not like a spent race horse but like the people Isaiah describes in the Scripture, the ones who trust in the Lord, the ones who “soar high on wings like eagles,” the ones who run and do not grow weary, who walk and do not faint. (Isaiah 40:31)