I am either one of your best sources of marital advice or one of your worst. My emotionally chaotic early personal history suggests the latter, including as it did several mismatched spouses and little evidence that I had learned from my own mistakes. But when God led me to an eminently suitable former classmate at our 20-year high school reunion, it was the first wave in a sea change that swept through every element of my existence. It was also the first phase in a relationship that spanned more than 30 years, until death parted us.

Having finally discovered what a blessing marriage can be, you'd think I'd be a fount of profundity on the subject. Yet at the wedding reception for one of my nephews, I heard myself burbling to his bride about how moved I was by the adoring looks the couple shared during the ceremony. She replied, “I just hope we're still looking at each other like that years from now.” My response? “From what I've seen today, I imagine you will be.”

How insipid! I might as well have said, “Well, based on appearances, your chances are pretty good.” How I wish I'd had the presence of mind to say, “That's not up to chance, it's up to you.” When I later indulged in the luxury of hindsight, gems began to tumble out of the treasure chest of experience. I've gathered them here in an imaginary shoulda' said monologue, because marital success truly is about making choices and setting priorities. “Loving” itself is a choice, not a fluttery feeling in the stomach. It's a decision you make, and then remake every day of your lives together.

Of course, the sooner you invite Christ into your new family the sooner you'll discover what true wedded fulfillment can provide. What it cannot guarantee is an idyllic landscape where no arguing ever takes place, or a 24/7 feeling of security and contentment. What it cannot do is cradle you in a state of perpetual rapture over everything your spouse says and does, or ensure that your mate will recognize—much less anticipate—all your needs.

Happily ever after is more about remembering, in those moments when the other one is being impossible, that you have your moments, too; about reminding yourself, when you want to run out the front door in tearful frustration, that we cause God that kind of grief on a regular basis. Our tempers flare, we are selfish, we use rude language, we lust for material excess, yet He forgives His repentant children unconditionally. It's about searching our own hearts for forgiveness, even before an issue has been resolved or any apologies proffered.

Your officiating minister declared that God's greatest gift to the pair of you is each other. A nice sentiment, in terms of earthly gifts. But if you bear in mind, always, that God offered up His only Son to purchase eternal life for you, then you will discover the definitive Great Gift: the inspiring example of Christ's spirit of forgiveness and self-sacrifice.

Much is said today about taking care of yourself. Certainly, you'll want to stay healthy and fit; you needn't deny yourself in the process of caring for others. But according to the prominent early 20th century Scottish minister Oswald Chambers, “God teaches self-expenditure not self-realization.”

There is no better context for the application of that bit of wisdom than the marriage partnership. For once you become preoccupied with your own needs, you ironically deprive your spouse of the very empathetic response you crave from them. You will have unmet expectations. You must learn to express them, and then you must learn to sometimes be disappointed in the results of that discussion. But you will also learn that there are illuminating alternate ways of looking at things, if you really listen to the feedback of a caring partner.

Know that there is a grave danger in turning to others to resolve intimate marital problems. With the Lord beside you—guiding your steps as a couple, installed as the centerpiece of your relationship—you will always have a trusted Someone “in the family” to whom you can carry your burdens.

Finally, don't believe that giving freely of yourself is tantamount to “giving yourself away.” Before you married, you were independent and self-supporting. Marrying in love enriches your existence, but it does not, as the cliché goes, “complete” you. Yet oh, how it may “replete” you, making your life more abundantly full. In return, you must teach yourself to love selflessly, as if you were commanded to do so, because . . . you were:

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

You will never be perfect in your exercise of such devotion. But when love becomes an action verb applied to every day of your lives together, you lay the blueprint for a contented future. Thus equipped, you will very likely still be exchanging those adoring looks “years from now.”