I'm a natural mother, or so people say.
Loving my kids, sacrificing for my kids, serving my kids isn't something I have to will myself to do; it's something that to me seems as effortless as breathing and as rewarding as any other calling.
I do it because it's what comes easy, naturally. I do it because being Mama has always been highest of my heart's ambitions.
By contradiction, marriage is about as natural to me as being one half of a Siamese twin; I don't naturally operate well with some another head directing the same parts of a life shared.
While girlfriends in my youth sighed dreamily about Prince Charming and hoped his arrival might happen any day, I yearned for independence, a life free from yo-yo emotions and a steady resolution towards my plans and my dreams. One day I would settle down, perhaps, but the future held too much to risk sharing it while holding hands.
Ironically, I married before most of my friends. I married while quite young to a man I loved, one who shared so many of my same desires and vision. The pastor who married us counseled my husband, "This one (meaning me, who was sitting right in front of him, privy to this entire conversation!) is very independent (I could almost see the italicization of very in his breath!). This is a good trait though (obviously!), one that when directed well will prove your full confidence."
You can imagine my delight in his use of the word directed.
I didn't want to be directed or steered or led. I wanted to share a life with my husband and friend while staying true to me, not having to divorce myself from everything I was so that I could be everything someone else thought I should be.
I thought words like submission and meekness meant I was to surrender every aspect of the person God had started an eternal work in years before. I thought I had to swallow all of me so I could morph into him.
I understood serving as it applied to my children but when compared to my husband all I heard was servitude.
I understood sacrifice as it applied to my children but when compared to my husband all I heard was inequality.
I understood love as it it applied to my children but when compared to my husband, he spelled it r-e-s-p-e-c-t.
Thankfully, my confusion (and bitterness) was short lived when this pastor's wife shared with me a glorious picture of what my role really entailed and the value I had the potential to bring to my union.
The example was taken from scripture, a conversation between Jonathan and the man who walked into battle beside him carrying for him his armor.
"So his armor-bearer said to him, “Do all that is in your heart. Go then; here I am with you, according to your heart.” (1 Samuel 14:7)
Here I am with you, according to your heart.
I had fallen in love with my husband because of his heart, because of his heart for me and for the life we envisioned together. Trust me, our minds might (and do) not always agree but because I was and am so convinced that his heart holds only the highest desire for me and for our God, my willingness to be his helper grows, my eagerness to support him is authentic because his successes become our triumphs.
Because his heart is for me, I have tremendous sway over the direction his heart chooses to go. And as I respect him, he has full confidence that what my heart desires is locked on the same eternal purpose as his. Sometimes I challenge his heart, sometimes he questions mine; it's a leadership of love, submission by trust.
Even as great as it sounds, rarely does it all come naturally to me (I wasn't born a Siamese twin, after all).
That's why I'm eternally grateful that God's directives for wives never come without the certainty of supernatural aid. Sure, I may never quite perfect being Super Wife but I'll happily settle for Supernatural Wife any day.
