Last month, Saint James and I celebrated our five year anniversary.

Celebrated may not be the proper term.  Marched straight through, with a kiss and an extravagant set of jewelry for me on Saint James’ part.

Five years.

While some couples are in the honeymoon stage at five years, Saint James and I jumped into the trenches quickly.  Five years has meant two children, four moves and a half dozen jobs between the two of us.  And currently, our marriage looks like insanely long work weeks for him and my brain being scrambled and feasted on, answering “Why?” at least 783 times a day with me actually explaining colloquial terms and basic science.

Genesis 2:24 says, “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.” (KJV)  While some couples are learning to live together at five years in, we’ve been working on cleaving together since year one.  It’s not always pleasant.

Cleave is an interesting word in that one definition means “to split or separate” and the second means “to adhere or stick.”  I have realized marriage is decidedly both, and it’s no accident that a complicated etymology has left both definitions even into modern times.

Marriage is being split, flayed open and hollowed out, like the jars of clay Saint Paul talks about in his letter to the Corinthians.  But it’s also being joined together, learning to work on the same team and embrace unity despite our inherent selfish natures.  The cloven hoof is what determined the cleanliness of an animal in the Old Testament, and I’m convinced that the hollowing out to be filled with the Spirit is still what makes us “clean” today.

James is surely “earning” his sainthood dealing with my manic outbursts and loving our children patiently, one day at a time.  He works hard, loves deeply, and walks faithfully.  While unloading the dishwasher and steamvacing after the dog, working sixteen hours to provide for his family and sleeping when he can may not be the romance of film, I increasingly understand and appreciate the truth and power of his selfless, sacrificial love.

Jesus said to his disciples, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13 NIV)  In fact, each one of the gospels note Christ’s comment to deny himself in order to follow Jesus best.  In a culture that embraces self-discovery, self-exploration and self-actualization with no real thought for unity, the message is as bizarre today as it was 2000 years ago.

But I believe we can learn to love selflessly.  That when we are born of the Spirit, and with the help of the Paraclete, we can learn to love as God does.  That despite our imperfections, despite our lack of understanding, communication and pure communion, that we can learn to love people.  That in His sovereignty, God knew our selfishness would make selflessness all the more beautiful.  That when we embrace our God natures as fellow heirs of Christ (Romans 8:17), we can love our spouses, our children, our soul friends, our families with a love that is the whole of us, but also all that is not us.