Reflecting on the Marriage Covenant and What It Means to Truly Love our Wives

This is an excerpt from the Insight for Life Devotionals featured in the CSB Men’s Daily Bible. Learn from more than 50 articles written by respected pastors and Christian leaders. Topics include: marriage, parenting, family, work, leadership, and more.

I have a beautiful wife. With her ready smile and engaging personality, most people hardly notice her wheelchair or that she can’t use her hands or legs. When they learn that she writes books and leads a global ministry to people with disabilities, they’re amazed. To
them, Joni Eareckson Tada doesn’t seem disabled at all.

It’s the way I felt when I married her. Joni never made a big deal about her quadriplegia, so why should I? I was certain I could handle it as gracefully as she did. That was then.

For me, much of our married life has centered around my wife’s disability—getting up at night to reposition her in bed, helping with toileting routines, stocking cupboards with medical supplies, plus everyday chores around the house. To be sure, Joni does as much for herself as she can. Still, ours is not a typical marriage. It is filled with countless little deaths. One night I became so weary I sat slump shouldered on our bed and confessed, “I have no strength for this anymore. I can’t do it.”

I half expected her to snap back at me. To tell me to buck it up and quit whining. Instead, what I heard brought hope and healing. “Ken, I don’t blame you. If I were you,” she said, “I would feel the same. Neither of us has strength for this. So let’s believe God does.” It was as though a key turned inside me, unlocking the possibility of hope and strength.

Around this time—maybe twenty years ago—we started asking friends for more help. This was a good idea. We also started regularly reading the Bible together. Having more help with my wife’s needs and getting into the Word gave me a healthier perspective on my calling as a husband. Still, while loading the dishwasher, doing medical stuff, or shopping for groceries, I’ll choose to die those little deaths.

Ephesians 5:25 always keeps me on track: “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself for her.” I am to love Joni the way Jesus has loved me. And He gave everything for me. My life with God, as well as with my wife, is not a contract; it’s a death. When I gave my life to Jesus, it was just that. In Him I buried all my wants and wishes.

When Joni and I took vows on our wedding day, July 3, 1982, it was for better or for worse; I vowed to cherish my wife and take care of her to the best of my ability. Never once have I regretted my decision to marry her, even in the midst of dreary day-to-day routines and
many nightmarish ordeals related to her health. I love Joni so much more now than I ever dreamed possible when we started out. God has used her disability to change us both, to force us to lean harder on Jesus, and for me to learn firsthand every day what it actually means to lay down my life for the one I love . . . for my whole lifetime.