A Dream Come True: Building our marriage

I’ve got to admit that before Beloved Hubby and I started building our new home, I was more than a little worried about the endeavor.

We’re both stubborn folks, and when everyone looks at you and says, “If your marriage can survive building a house, you’re good for life,” then your nervous meter begins working overtime.

Who wants to get a divorce over a house? What if building a house puts a tremendous strain on your marriage? Is it worth it?

But I’m here to tell you I am now convinced that’s one of those old sayings people who’ve never built a house together make up as an excuse as to why they’ve never built a house together.

BH and I are the direct opposite of that old adage.

Building a house together has strengthened our marriage. Like the steep foundation our house stands upon, our marriage has never been more rock solid.

BH mentioned as much to me last night.

I told him I agreed, but I can’t pinpoint why it has strengthened our marriage. I could only surmise that building this house has given each of us more respect for each other’s talents.

You see, in our house-building endeavor, BH is the head contractor, building extraordinaire and expert on all things construction. I question nothing when it comes to how that house stands. He’s a very talented builder who always does things the right way. I worry about nothing. I know he’s building us the best house possible.

But because BH is the CEO of our construction project that means he’s not home a lot. He spends many days and most nights at the construction site. He’s missed more church services than he’s attended this year, and it’s not unusual for us to not see his smiling face until 9 o’clock at night.

I don’t help much at the construction site. I make required decisions, on his sage advice, but I’m not picking up a single paintbrush or hammer.

Instead, while he’s CEO of the new house, I’m CEO of the old house. I’m the one fixing dinner, doing homework, giving baths, making lunches, making 12 trips a night into town to pick up kids and organizing our very scheduled lives.

And it’s OK with BH that I’m fulfilling a different role and not lifting a finger to help at the new house. And it’s equally OK with me he’s not at home right now because I know he’s building our home.

He respects the work I do at home, and tells me as much. He’s constantly amazed I work a full-time job, and still manage all I do at home, without his help. He doesn’t understand how I do it. Truth is, I don’t understand how he looked at a blueprint and built a house from the ground up just by looking at those pieces of paper.

And I think the endeavor has surprised us both beyond measure. He thought, before construction began, I would be upset because he wasn’t home much. I figured he’d be more restrictive in the overall design of our house, and we’d be arguing over siding colors and flooring materials. Truth is, there’s been none of it.

Instead, we’re more thankful of our time together. When he arrives home, he quickly wraps me in his arms and I welcome the break from the insanity – even if it’s only for a moment.

I tell him constantly how talented he is, and how much respect I have for him and all he does for our family. I urge him to take breaks, when I sense he needs it, and I no longer mind if he spends a few hours on Sunday afternoon immobile on his recliner.

And he reciprocates by offering to scrub a toilet when I seem overwhelmed with housework, or jumps at the chance to give the little boys a bath and wrap them in cozy pajamas when the opportunity arises.

So when people ask me when the house will be completed, I just shrug and smile. Who cares, I think to myself. It has proved so enjoyable I’m in no hurry for the project to end.

Truth is, the results are far more valuable than a concrete and lumber building. In building our house, we’ve constructed a marriage that can withstand the elements for a lifetime.