By Pastor Emelda Hairwadzi
Marriage is a journey with hidden riches and occasional hidden irritations. Reflecting on over two decades of marriage, I'm reminded this sacred union is not a straight shot but a bumpy road with its fair share of twists, turns, and ah-ha moments. My husband and I got married in 2002, and since then have travelled close to every season of the sun. But through it all, we’ve come to discover a deeper kind of wisdom, the kind that comes not from books or fairy tales, but from honest mistakes, hard conversations, and God’s unfailing grace.
One scripture that constantly echoes in my heart is Proverbs 25:2: "It is the glory of God to conceal a matter; to search out a matter is the glory of kings." Marriage, I've learned, is one of those "hidden things." You smile and daydream your way through your certificate, but ahead of you is a lifetime of learning. And sometimes, learning comes in the very experiences we'd rather not remember.
A Nursery School, a Heated Argument, and a Lesson for Life
I'll take you back to one of our very first, and quite possibly most humbling, roadblocks as new parents. My daughter was barely a toddler when I began dreaming about the future of hers, particularly the kind of education she would receive. I wished her to attend an upper-class nursery school, not just any school, but one where she would learn the accent as well, something we could use to brag about to our friends. In our unit at the time, an English-speaking child was a discreet indicator of privilege, class, and successful parents.
My husband, always the voice of reason, suggested we wait. Politely, he reminded me of our financial situation. "Why spend thousands having her play in a sandbox," he argued, "when we have a good helper at home and bills to pay?" But I wasn't going to be told this. Honestly, it wasn't about the education, it was about image, about fit, about feeling as though one is doing "the right thing."
So, I persevered in frustration and registered our daughter at the posh nursery. One week on, came a bolt from the blue. We simply could not afford it. I had to withdraw her, my tail between my legs. It was a watershed moment in our marriage, a painful but healthy reminder of the value of consensus decision-making.
From Zimbabwe to South Africa: Grace in the Gaps
Jump forward. Life carried us away from Zimbabwe to South Africa, where we had to start all over again, new country, new rules, new challenges. There were moments when our children were homeschooled because we had not yet obtained the appropriate paperwork. But God once again came through. Our daughter not only caught up, she excelled.
She completed her matric at a private school, and now she's doing midwife training abroad. Her other siblings are also well off, all in good schools, one of which will soon be starting at university in the UK. And hey, guess what? Not even one of them ever attended nursery school.
It's Not About Winning Arguments, It's About Winning as One
In hindsight, I understand how that one decision might have driven a wedge between my husband and me. But eventually, and with a great big dose of humility (and advice), I realized that marriage is not about who wins an argument. It is about disagreeing when you need to and continuing together. There were moments I had to pause, reflect, and say, "You were right." Not because I lost, but because I won clarity. And we both won. We understood that every decision, mine or his, must benefit us, not our egos. Proverbs 14:1 says, “The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.” I’ve learned that wisdom sometimes means surrendering the need to be right and choosing instead to build.
Letting the Small Stuff Stay Small
It’s easy for couples to get stuck on the small stuff. We’ve seen marriages fall apart over a misunderstood text or an unspoken expectation. But we’ve learned the power of laughter, of letting go, of stepping away from the heat of an argument to talk in a calmer space, even if that means discussing serious matters over a shared meal instead of a tense bedroom showdown.
We’ve also learned not to expose every disagreement in front of our kids. Marriage is our sacred space, and our children should see us model grace, not drama. And when something matters deeply, when emotions flare, we’ve discovered the beauty of restraint, of removing ourselves from triggering environments, and handling conflict with wisdom and dignity
We’re a Tag Team, Not Opponents
So, this is what I've learned after all these years of truth and trial: my husband and I are not fighting against one another. We're not ringside opponents. We're on the same team, fighting for the same things, our children, our legacy, our love. Yes, tears have been cried. There's been tension. There have been days when silence seemed easier than words. But there has been laughter as well. Forgiveness. Growth. And grace. Song of Solomon 2:15 warns us: "Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards." It's not always the big betrayals that kill a marriage, it's the little unguarded annoyances, the presumptive answers, the not listening.
So let's choose to catch those little foxes. Let's gather the treasures in the narrow places. And when we stumble (for stumble we will), let's remember the One who holds us with bonds broken. Our husbands, women, pay attention to things we don’t. Perhaps it’s how we dress, what we say, the way we carry ourselves, they want us to shine with beauty, yes, but with dignity. Not to attract the wrong kind of attention, but to move with confidence and poise.
Beauty, Modesty, and the Mirror of Our Spouses
One last thing I'll learn you, a trivial one perhaps, but one that is everything to me: my hair. I bent to trends for years, relaxers, weaves, glue-ins, all as my husband continued to comment on how much he loved my natural hair. I scoffed. I believed he was old-fashioned or was commenting on it simply out of courtesy. It wasn't until after one woeful weave appointment (with a stylist who did everything wrong and emptied my wallet and singed my scalp) that I began to love what I already had: thick, rich, natural hair God gave me.
Final Thoughts
To all couples everywhere, newlyweds, veteran partners, or making your way through difficult ground, here is the thing: you don't have to get it all right. But you do have to be willing to grow together. Don't let pride take your peace. Don't let pressure compel you into performance. Let love, God-honouring, true love, be your guide. Because at the end of the day, it's not about who wins. It's about what you build together.