There’s a great old movie, Your’s, Mine and Our’s. It’s been redone since the original 1968 version, but I am partial to Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda.
It’s the story of a widower with 10 children and a widow, the mother of eight. They unexpectedly fall in love and tackle the overwhelming challenge of uniting their two families. It’s not a simple task. From finding a big enough house and divvying up bedrooms, to managing who goes to work and who stays home, to separating animal-like squabbles, the couple have their work cut out for them. However, like any good movie, it has a happy ending.
In our 10 short years of marriage, my husband I have faced similar odds trying to consolidate our individual friends and find couples that we both enjoy spending time with. Quite simply, it’s a “your’s, mine and our’s” situation.
Most of the time, we just do our own thing. Occasionally, there is an Army event that I am expected to attend. There I meet and socialize with his fellow commander’s wives. Afterward, I explain to him that I didn’t really enjoy it and I nestle back into “my” friendships and I let him have his.
There are several problems with this arrangement. Quite often, I confess, I chose my girlfriends over my husband. There’s a law against that kind of behavior when you’re dating. But, after you’re married, you expect that your spouse will be there anyway. Why make the sacrifice?
That brings up another issue. When we stubbornly go our own ways, neither of us learns to be Christ-like and consider others as better than ourselves (Philippians 2:3-4). It is the epitome of selfishness, which is directly contrary to a godly life.
Last weekend, we were both invited to attend two different potluck celebrations. One was hosted by his friends, the other by my very best friend. I argued the point that my friend had asked first, ignoring the fact that we had spent the previous weekend with her and that I saw her many times throughout the week. We confirmed for both events.
That produced a problem because they started at the same time and were only minutes apart. We headed off in our separate directions–him to fulfill one commitment and me to fulfill the other. We kept our commitments to our friends and placed our loyalty to each other in second place. Later I joined him at his friend’s home but left early and alone.
Was the decision sinful? Probably not. I am grateful that God has given us both wonderful friends and time to spend with them. But, in Genesis, God calls us to leave our nuclear families and to cleave to our spouse. That means to prefer them, to “cling or adhere” to them. If that is true of our relationships with our families, is it not even more true of our friendships?
