Page 79 of The Marriage Game

“Well, you did.”

“And so you have,” she counters. “Done great things, I mean.”

“See,” I begin, “you do care.”

“No.” She shakes her head vehemently. Max, the great things I’m talking about start with the way I see you as a person. You’ve been a loving, faithful husband and a dedicated and steady father to our kids. You’ve built a life with me that I love not because of your accomplishments but because of the people we’re surrounded by. I don’t care about our family’s status orclout or whatever, and I’m sorry that I appear to have given you the impression that I did.”

“You once dated a man who is now one of the most famous NFL quarterbacks of all time, Jill,” I say with a touch of exasperation. “And before that you dated both a guy getting his degree in aerospace engineering with the intent of becoming an astronaut and a guy who had plans to go to med school and become a cardiothoracic surgeon. You’re meant to be with someone impressive.”

Jill shakes her head. “I think you and I have different opinions about what makes a man impressive. It’s your character and heart and watching you seek after God—those are the things that I find impressive. Well, those and how well you utilize the small space provided by a double bed,” she adds with a flirtatious wink, and a soft rumble of laughter echoes through my chest.

I sigh then stare hard at Jill, searching her face for any signs that she’s just saying these words because they sound good— but there’s only genuineness there. She’s not lying. Like the rev of a sports car engine, the truth roars to life in my mind: Other than that day so long ago, Jill has never said or done anything to suggest that my career accomplishments matter to her. On the contrary, when shehasexpressed appreciation for my work it’s always been to mention how much she values my strong work ethic or the way I set my mind to goals and achieve them. Character-related things. Even earlier today, when we were talking to Tucker, the pride she displayed in me was related to the things I’d accomplished as a senator. Not simply for being a senator. I was the one who’d highlighted that.

I draw in a haggard breath and with it comes unexpected Holy Spirit clarity: I am prideful.

And the root of that pride is a desire to be successful in the eyes of the world. For people to see me and think that I haveachieved big things in my life—apart from my dad. On my own. Self-sufficient.

If it has been hard for me to have a wife that doesn’t think she needs me, how must God feel about me living my life as if I don’t need Him?

The heavy weight of this kairos slams onto my chest and I can’t help myself—I sink to my knees right there in the foyer of the hotel room.

“Max?” Jill sounds alarmed. “Are you okay?” A second later she’s on her knees across from me, peering up at my face. “Max? Max, what hurts? Is it your legs? Oh goodness, are you having a heart attack? Do you need CPR? No, wait, you’re breathing. Duh. Can you hear me?” She waves her hands in front of my face frantically.

I reach up and take hold of them.

“Jill, I’m fine,” I say hoarsely. “Or at least I’m going to be—after I pray. After I seek God…with my wife, I hope. Pray with me?”

A slow smile spreads across Jill’s face. “Pray with you?” she echoes, and I nod.

“I need to tell God how much I need Him and repent for all of the ways I’ve been living as if I don’t.”

“What a coincidence,” she says with a tilt of her head, “I’ve been meaning to have the same conversation with God.”

I grin, already anticipating the lightness and freedom this prayer session will bring us both. I may have built the prison of pride and expectations I’ve been trapped in all of these years, but God is more than able to set me free from it. “Then I’m guessing He’s ready to hear what we’ve got to say.”

“No point delaying,” she agrees.

We bend our heads, hands still clasped and together we approach His throne of grace, secure in the knowledge that He will welcome us with His love.

Chapter 30

Jill

“Youcame.”Dorothylookspleased as punch to see us as Max and I approach her the next morning. Instead of being in the dining room, we’re in one of the conference rooms—whether for privacy or to continue her isolation games, I can’t say for sure—but there’s a tray of assorted breakfast foods and a carafe of coffee already out for us. “Please sit, get some food.” Dorothy gestures for us to do so.

Max and I exchange a look, then he beckons his hand for me to get food first. I step forward and take a plate. I’m too nervous to be truly hungry, but the fruit spread does look amazing—there’s even papaya, and I love papaya—so I load my plate with a colorful assortment.

Last night was great. Max and I prayed and talked for hours. It almost felt like when we were first dating and couldn’t get enough of each other. Only it was richer because of the years we’ve had together.

Admittedly, it’s a hard and fast change from the state our marriage was in only a few days ago, and in some waysthat scares me. But in other ways it gives me hope. And the miraculous thing about hope is that it often has the power to drown out fear.

Max and I will fight again. There will be days when I don’t have all the lovey, overemotive, and romantic feelings for him that I’m feeling now. But that’s okay, because if there’s anything I’ve realized these last couple of days it’s that marriage can’t just be about feelings. There is work that has to be put in and every day you have to choose to love your spouse, to be grateful for them.

And okay, maybe Dorothy was the one who said all of that in the first place, but she’s surely not the first person to ever say it. Who knows, she may have even gotten it from AI. Everyone uses it these days. So, really it wasn't Dorothy who saved my marriage, it was AI.

Goodness, I must never tell Hannah I had a positive thought toward AI. As a creative, she would lose her mind. She’d probably lecture me for hours on end.

And I much prefer to be the person giving the lecture than the one receiving it.

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