06 Learning to Walk as One

Paul and Shelby, servants of Jesus Christ, walking as one under the banner of our King.

To all who love the Lord and strive to walk in unity, grace and peace.

When Scripture says, “A man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh” (Gen. 2:24), we discovered quickly that this was far more than a poetic line read at weddings. It was a command, a calling, and a refining fire.

Our marriage began differently than most. Because I have worked remotely for nearly my entire adult life, we found ourselves together—not just in the evenings or on weekends—but all day, every day. From our first days as husband and wife, we woke, walked, talked, ate, and lived side by side.

This closeness was a gift, but it was also a mirror. It intensified everything—joy, tenderness, and laughter… and also the parts of our hearts the Lord intended to refine.

Very quickly we learned that unity is not automatic. It is forged.

The Lord exposed old patterns, past expectations, and places where we had not yet fully left father and mother. We had married quickly—rightly, in the will of God—but the speed meant that some things had to be worked out in real time, in real proximity, and at times through real tears.

There were misunderstandings, places where expectations collided, and moments where the Lord required each of us to take responsibility for our own reactions—bitterness, offense, impatience, or fear. Scripture says, “See to it… that no root of bitterness springs up” (Heb. 12:15). We learned that bitterness does not need years to grow; it can sprout in a day if not surrendered to the Lord.

We also learned boundaries—what it meant to honor parents without allowing old patterns to shape a new covenant. What it meant for me as a husband to cover my wife, and for her as my wife to stand with me.

Yet a major layer of sanctification in this season came from something much closer to home: my own upbringing as an only child.

I was raised in a loving Christian family. My parents were my closest companions, and I often preferred time with them over time with peers. Without realizing it, I carried certain expectations into marriage—expectations that my new family would blend seamlessly into the old rhythms I had always known.

In my mind, when I married, my parents would gain a daughter, and our shared life would continue just as before—with Shelby alongside me in it. But when Scripture says “the two shall become one,” it also implies that old patterns must give way to the formation of a new covenant.

That difference—between the expectations I carried and the reality of what marriage required—became a root of many early struggles. Shelby entered our marriage with her own experiences, her own wounds, her own needs, and her own walk with God. Without meaning to, I placed a weight on her that she was never meant to carry.

My mom is loving, caring, and has a servant’s heart. There were good intentions from all sides. But when my and her expectations did not align with the realities of a newly formed marriage, tension followed. Not because anyone acted out of malice, but because the boundaries Scripture commands (Gen. 2:24) had not yet been clearly established.

None of this was born from ill intent on anyone’s part—it was simply the growing pains of two families learning how to walk out a new season with new boundaries.

And in truth, I did not address it for a few years. Not strongly. Not clearly. Not consistently.

The Lord had to teach me that honoring parents does not mean allowing old patterns to shape a new covenant. And honoring my wife meant standing with her, not simply hoping tension would fade.

These were the refining moments where God uprooted what needed to be removed so He could plant what would last.

The plot twist none of us foresaw was that, in the midst of this season, my dad’s mom, my dad, and my mom’s parents all passed away within a very short span of time. Their loss added a weight beneath the surface of those early years — a tenderness, a grief, and a longing I didn’t yet know how to express while learning to lead a new family.

God-willing, we will write again soon.