Untold numbers of people in our world today have spoken the vow, “till death do us part.” The unfortunate reality is that with increasing regularity, it’s more like, “until this relationship no longer brings personal pleasure, do us part.” And how many innocent lives are devastated because of it! And how it must break the Lord’s heart to see so many renege on living out the promises they vowed to each other on their wedding day!

That’s part of the reason we’re committed to the ministry of “Marriage Missions”— to help as many couples as possible to live out their promises. In this marriage message we want to share with you a newspaper article that was sent to us from the Washington Post written by Roxanne Roberts. It has a powerful message we can all learn from. Keep in mind it’s written for a secular newspaper. And the book they talk about, we haven’t read… but it sounds interesting. It reads:

Diane and John Rehm have been married for almost 43 years — not “happily” married — not “miserably” married—perhaps “stubbornly married” is the most accurate description of their union.

And that’s the point of their new book, Toward Commitment: A Dialogue About Marriage. The Rehms— she the public radio talk show host, he a retired Washington lawyer — have taken a remarkably frank, unvarnished look at their marriage in hopes of helping millions of confused, frustrated or unhappy couples.

They chronicle a passionate, stormy four decades filled with love, anger, work, money, sex, jealousy, criticism, in-laws, selfishness, children, pride, religion and therapy. No romance story this. “There have been a lot of difficult times over a lot of difficult issues,” says John. “It’s hard to see a sustained period of a joyous relationship until recent years.”

They make marriage sound like very hard work, and you think: Maybe these two folks were a bad match. Maybe they’re too different to be happy together. “Au contraire”, say the Rehms. “Ours isn’t all that unusual,” says Diane. “I’m telling you we’re not alone.” “A lot of couples who are wrestling mightily with their internal problems walk around seeming to have the perfect marriage,” says John.

Someone, they said, had to tell the truth. So they wrote this book as two survivors from a hard-fought matrimonial war to counter what John calls the “destructive ignorance” about romantic relationships: “It’s all goody-goody Martha Stewartland where every thing is perfect or can be perfect.” Well, not at the Rehm house.

The Rehm house looks very cozy. The Rehms look pretty cozy, too, perched together on a love seat. Diane, 65, is the glamorous one. John, 71, looks like the scholar he almost became. She bosses, he parries. Like many long-married couples, they finish each other’s sentences, they fuss and they laugh. They can afford to laugh a little: They’ve earned it.

They met in 1958. She was 22, separated from her first husband and working as a secretary at the State Department. He was 28, a government lawyer by profession, a loner by instinct. He noticed her looks and the books on her desk. She noticed his intelligence and sophistication. He was rational; she was emotional. He was an introvert, she an extrovert. Opposites attracted. Their courtship was filled with concerts, long walks, and lots of tension. The two were married in December 1959.

Ignorance was not bliss — nor was the first year of their marriage. “I’m shocked by the naiveté of the assumptions I held about the experience we call marriage,” John writes. He assumed that Diane would stay at home, they’d have children, and he’d work hard to bring home enough money to support his family. Things would hum along without any special effort. She assumed that she’d be a wife and mother and that this marriage would last forever, because she’d learned from the failure of her first, three-year union. Wrong!

They wanted children right away and were thrilled when David was born 9 months after their wedding night, but it took a serious toll on the newlyweds. “It didn’t give us time to really even begin to understand the reality of living together,” says Diane. At one point, John said to her, “I’m not sure we’ve made the right marriage.” But the die had been cast, and the birth soon after of Jennie made the prospect of splitting even harder.

It was Diane’s determination (John calls it an “almost irrational commitment”) to stay married that kept them together. She loved him, but it was less about love than pride: Diane would not accept a second failure — especially in the early ’60s, when divorce was far less socially acceptable.

“To some extent, I think the marriage comes from a fundamental work ethic they both have: Life is not play, it’s work,” says their son. Their marriage, he says, is complicated. “There’s mutual respect. Always, and ultimately, there’s conversation and dialogue. There are shared aims in terms of what they wanted for us and for themselves—and, to some extent, a shared vision.” But even as a young boy David had a fair sense that those early years were very difficult for his parents.

The book follows a familiar path: John withdrew into his work; Diane got lonely, then sad, then angry. The less responsive he was, the madder she got. “I realized there was no way I could get John’s attention other than to yell, and cry, and eventually, to scream,” she writes. John knew he was working too much —and had very mixed feelings. He was doing what was expected of a man of his era, and he did it well. Part of him felt she was wrong in berating him instead of being a supportive, good wife. Another part knew he was retreating into his job — but he never admitted that to her.

For the next decade, he was a Washington workaholic and she was a stay-at-home mom. Then the kids got older and Diane ventured out of the house. First she volunteered at church, then in adult learning programs, then at a local radio station. The rest, as they like to say, is radio history: For 22 years she’s been the host of “The Diane Rehm Show.” The show now runs on National Public Radio affiliates nationwide.

In the book, Diane addresses John on the subject: “If you’d been the all-doting husband, if you’d been that protector, that comforter, that all-present male who was going to save me, who was going to make my life absolutely wonderful — if you’d been that, perhaps I would have never pursued my own career.”

Almost 20 years ago, the Rehms did a series of radio broadcasts on issues facing relationships — a prequel, of sorts, to this book. When Diane went on tour for her autobiography, “Finding My Voice,” many fans mentioned the radio series and praised the couple for sharing their problems and how they worked through them. Thus “Toward Commitment,” a practical, nonprofessional guide to identifying and talking through the issues that trouble most unions.

They wrote the book last fall at their farm in northeastern Pennsylvania. Every morning they selected a topic, and then individually wrote a short essay on the subject. Afterward they’d discuss the issue. Diane transcribed the dialogue. Each of the 26 chapters contains both essays and the transcript of their dialogue. Nothing, they say, was off-limits. Sex, money and religion — the three big hot spots in every marriage — they’re all there.

Sex itself was never a big problem. They were both rather shy, but attracted to and satisfied by each other. Their sex life suffered, of course, from periods of anger and distance, but both say they’ve never been unfaithful to each other. They do, however, admit to very serious but (chaste) relationships with third parties, relationships so threatening to the marriage that at one point John moved to a hotel for a week. But they stuck it out, and survived.

Money issues split along typical lines: John’s a saver, Diane’s a spender. He’s frugal and anti-materialistic; she had to nag him for years to redecorate the house. Basically, they agree on most financial decisions — although, as John tells her, “I would say there are occasions when you’ve brought home more clothes than you needed to.” “Well, those are my passions,” she responds. “Exactly,” he says. ” And the passion is irrational. That’s my thesis. Men and women have to learn that they have very different approaches to the purchase of things.”

Religion was a huge problem for years. Diane belonged to a liberal church; John resented the time she devoted to an “at best silly— and at worst destructive” institution. Diane calls him “mean-spirited” on the subject. But in 1979, John found Christ and was baptized. Never content with halfway measures, he earned a master’s of theological studies in 1990.

But the most contentious chapter, they agree, was writing about her in-laws— both of Diane’s parents died before she met John — specifically Diane’s frustration and resentment over John’s deference to his mother. “She made life very difficult for us,” says Diane. Writing that chapter reopened old wounds; in many ways, he finally realized how angry Diane still was about her second-class status. From a practical standpoint, the issue was closed when his mother died a decade ago; it was the lingering feelings that caused the flare-up of emotions.

Their professional lives took entirely different directions. After 45 years, John’s career was winding down while Diane’s was heating up. Even while he boasted of her accomplishments, John struggled with envy: “For some time I’ve felt — though didn’t admit — that the degree of my self-esteem was in inverse proportion to the level of Diane’s success.” “I think there was passive-aggressive stuff going on,” says Diane. Most of those issues have been resolved.

It was criticism that almost sank the marriage. The Rehms’ bitter harping at each other led to a drastic measure: a written contract with 11 points drawn up Aug. 6, 1982. Item 1: “I will be totally uncritical of my spouse.” Not a single critical word. “It was hard,” sighs Diane. “I just shut up.” It was a turning point in the marriage.” It breaks that cycle of sniping,” says Diane.

Many of these issues were worked out in therapy. Diane has been going for the better part of 25 years. When she began, John got curious and followed suit soon after. It turns out that John was fearful her therapy would eventually lead to a separation. The therapy raised as many problems as it solved; the purpose was self-awareness, not saving the marriage. But that self-awareness led to the decision to stay together.

Concluding from their experience, they believe every engaged couple should have six months of premarital counseling, examining assumptions and asking all the hard questions before walking up the aisle.

Their children are married. And Diane and John Rehm relish their role as grandparents to two boys. They have, for the most part, been blessed with good health. Diane’s one serious health crisis — her ongoing battle with a neurological disorder that attacks the vocal cords — is fought with John firmly at her side. They sleep in separate beds — not because their sex life is over, but because John snores and Diane’s a light sleeper. They came to the conclusion that a good night’s sleep was more important in the larger view of things.

And they still go to therapy once a month, to keep things humming. “We realize that, even after all these years, there would be those picky, picky things,” says Diane.

Doing the book together, they write, was a way of saying to one another,” Thank you for sustaining our marriage and forgive me for letting you and the marriage down at times.” It was, they say, an act of love for each other.

And so the question: Knowing then what you know now, would you marry each other again?” The answer is yes,” says John. He smiles and adds, “But it will always be in my mind a close call.” “It’s worth it,” she says. “Why is it worth it? It’s totally irrational. You can talk about a house, you can talk about wonderful children, and you can talk about wonderful grandchildren. But in the end, it comes down to: “I deeply love this man and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

We pray this message is helpful to you. Our love and prayers are with you.

Steve and Cindy Wright