My husband and I celebrated our wedding ceremony in the Dominican Republic, where I am from. Several hours later, we jumped on an airplane that would take us to Florida. 

Wait, what? Isn’t the DR the perfect place to honeymoon? It is, it is. But, we were getting married through the fiancé visa, and the marriage license had to be signed in the States for us to be legally married. So, we arrived in Florida and spent our wedding night in separate bedrooms because my dad had been clear we couldn’t live together until the license was signed. (Don’t say it—I know what you are thinking). 

Early the next morning (a Sunday morning), we got on another flight to Atlanta where a pastor friend would sign the license at his church. We hoped to arrive before the service started…but no. It had begun and so we went (with a couple chaperones) to grab breakfast and wait. Finally, when the service was over, we made our way back to church. After greeting his congregants, our pastor friend took us to his study to sign the license—and he took his sweet time to do so.

“Let me tell you a story of this guy who got cold feet right before I signed the license, so I signed it before he did anything crazy,” he said. 

“Did you know I wrote a book? Let me sign a copy for you,” he continued.“Which church are you attending in OH? Oh! Your pastor is my friend! Let me sign a copy for him too.” 

And finally, to all the Dominican friends who had gathered to see us legally wed, he said, “Come on, everyone, picture time with the bride and groom.” 

When all was said and done, we couldn’t leave that building fast enough. Twenty six hours after our ceremony in the DR (yes, TWENTY SIX), we were finally alone. (Stop—I know what you are thinking now too). 

Thus began our cross-cultural marriage—navigating visa issues, family expectations, and cultural differences. After becoming an immigrant and later an expat, I noticed that learning to live in another country is very similar to learning to live with your spouse. So I thought I’d share some lessons for marriage, brought to you from our experience so far.

1. Become a fluent speaker in your spouse’s language and help your spouse become one, too.

Learning language is a high priority when you land in a new country. Yes, you need to buy furniture and enroll your kids in school, but you also want to be able to connect  with people and say more than, “where is the bathroom?” So you start the grueling effort of learning a new language.

Language learning and marriage have similarities. For starters, both have the goal of fluency. Just as we want to speak a new language clearly and gracefully, we also want to learn to speak the language that communicates love and respect for our spouse. There are Biblical principles that apply to marriages everywhere, but there are also ways we love and honor our spouse that are unique to them.

To know those things, we ask lots of questions, we observe them, and cultivate a delighted curiosity on what makes them them. Since marrying my husband, Ethan, I have been learning Ethanese. He, too, has been learning Aylinese, which leads me to another similarity. 

Just as we need native speakers to help us learn their language, we also need each other to achieve fluency in marriage. Not only do I need Ethan to teach me about himself, but *I* also need to teach *him* how to speak Aylinese, which hasn’t always come naturally to me.

I have hesitated to speak up about strong personal preferences because I don’t want to be a nagging, entitled wife. But over the years, that hasn’t really helped my husband in knowing important parts of who I am. While letting him into these sides of me can feel really vulnerable, the safety of Christ’s love enables me to be transparent with him. 

That is why both the work of language learning and the work of marriage are a work of faith. By faith we study both language and spouse, trusting Christ is gracious to enable our fluency, as well as theirs.

2. Become a cultural learner, not a cultural critic.

Language and culture are often very closely tied together. You learn language as you learn culture and vice versa. In the same way, a significant way you learn about your spouse is by understanding and learning the culture he comes from. Not only the country he comes from (if you are in a cross-cultural marriage, like me), but his family’s culture and even his personality’s culture. 

If you think about it, each person has a culture of their own—a strong set of values, a preference about how they do things, an idea of what life in community looks like, a definition of rest, a love or hate of risk, etc. That is why my husband and I love to say that in a very real sense, each marriage is cross-cultural. 

When we are learning a new culture that is different from ours, it is very easy to point out all the ways that culture is not as good as ours. We see their flaws  and their blind spots, and we want to fix them. But the best expats I know are the ones who have learned to see beauty in the culture they live in. They truly learn from the people around them and see how their culture is strong in areas in which they are weak. They are not filled with cynicism. They are grace-hunters—looking for and finding evidence of the grace and goodness around them.

We need that spirit in marriage. The Lord has fit us for our spouse—not so that we can fix them, but so that we can learn from them and grow with them. 

3. Learn to live the ampersand life. 

On this side of Eternity, it serves us well to learn to live the “both/and” life. Until Christ returns, joy and sorrow coexist. If you have lived overseas longer than two months, you know this is true. Beauty and brokenness link arms together.

Marriage, too, is filled with this paradox—even the best of marriages. You really do lose your life to gain another one. There may be the loss of dreams, loss of yours or your spouse’s health, or loss of relationships. Circumstances might not be the ones you expected when you married. There might be patterns deeply ingrained that never seem to change. Your life is stressful and it seems like all the differences between you contribute to the struggle.

Grieving is appropriate, alongside joyfully receiving the gift of our spouse. We can lament our sin, and our spouses’ sin. Sometimes we grieve the sin and trauma in our extended families and its impact on our own family. 

Lamenting is not necessarily ungratefulness or discontent. It is a crucial part of learning to live in paradox. We have the most hope in our marriages when we allow our hearts to feel the gains and the losses that have come with them. Only then can we taste Christ’s sufficiency for us. 

4. Laugh.

Laughing keeps you sane when you live overseas. You learn to find humor in your language mistakes, in the ridiculous expectations you had, in the unexpected situations you find yourself in. You smile at the beauty you never knew existed. You treasure the memories you made in exhausting seasons. You even laugh at things your passport culture doesn’t think is funny.

And, oh man, laughing is quite the gift in marriage too. You laugh at things that are hilarious to just the two of you. You cherish the joy that your kids are. You look back on twists and turns and shake your heads in grateful bewilderment at God’s mysterious but certain hand on your journey. This propels you forward to face what’s ahead.

So, friend, embrace the home you are to your spouse and the one he is to you. Through the life of Christ in you—hope in God fiercely, love steadfastly, and with a confident heart, laugh.

Laugh with your spouse, laugh at yourself, and laugh at the days to come.

Photo by Taylor Hernandez on Unsplash