Every day miracles are easy to forget. 

When a baby is born, we see it—the new person, sacred and sleeping—is evidence of the miraculous, right before our eyes. There are no ordinary people, as C.S. Lewis said, but by the time that new person is in high school, we’ve forgotten. 

Marriage is like that too, except that seeing the exceptional is even harder to hold on to. We begin in a hopeful state of euphoria, and when real life moves in, all too often, we think the magic is gone, we slide into mediocrity, even bad behaviour, and subsequently divorce. 

This is not a column to judge anyone. It’s not a column to make light of the problems many face in marriage. It is a column to shed light on the ordinary miracle of even a normal, non-Hollywood “mediocre” marriage. 

Our culture practices the soulmate model of marriage, which de facto downplays and diminishes the significance and rewards of longevity in marriage. A soulmate model places emotion at the centre. We marry as a sign of our love, and by love we more accurately mean a feeling of love. When bad feelings arise, the assumption is love has died and, for many, it is time to move on. In many respects, this is what no-fault divorce is for—to create an environment in which any justification for divorce is appropriate. 

Soulmate marriage doesn’t even practically speaking require marriage—marriage is nice but unnecessary—as you can experience the emotions of partnership without marriage. 

In this cultural context, an institutional view of marriage appears as an unwanted intruder. It sounds out of touch and judgemental. Only someone living a perfect marriage could possibly remain. It sounds like institutional marriage demands people remain trapped in bad circumstances. It doesn’t. But it recognizes the fundamental good of longevity in marriage. 

Pastor Tim Keller puts it this way in his book The Meaning of Marriage: “When over the years someone has seen you at your worst, and knows you with all your strengths and flaws, yet commits him (self) or herself to you wholly, it is a consummate experience. To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of our self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us.” 

 There are no ordinary people, and there are no ordinary marriages. 

We have, to some extent, normalized the need to improve mental health, if Bell’s “Let’s Talk Days” and associated public campaigns are any indication. We have not, on the other hand, yet normalized asking for help to improve a marriage. Talking about the realities of marriage, the good, the bad and the ugly, should be 100 per cent normal, done early and done often. You need help with your marriage? Of course you do. Here’s the number for my guy, right there on the fridge beside the car mechanic and family doctor. 

A friend, married for four decades, in a moment of honesty, recently described how she and her husband cannot always remain civil with one another. At Christmas this year, by way of example, an unsuspecting guest got an earful of her swearing at him in exasperation over how to serve the food. Classic. Is it good that on periodic intervals this couple swears at each other? No. But is it good that they persevere, remaining unified even when faced with frustration? Yes. It’s good for their kids, for the world. And it's good for them. 

I’m betting there’s someone out there in your community, feeling down right now because they think their life is mediocre, with their mediocre marriage at the centre. Every person deserves some encouragement if they are living the daily grind, getting by with their spouse without using the recourse of divorce, which is quite readily available. Remaining married is all on its own, an everyday miracle, something amazing and life changing—so long as we allow ourselves, and encourage others, to see it that way.