Our new series is Marriage Mishaps. You might wonder why it matters if you’re nowhere near marriage—or if you’ve been burned by it. The truth is, marriage has shaped us all. Whether through our parents, friends, our own experiences, or our longings, marriage has impacted who we’ve become.

This series won’t give you “five techniques to better communication,” “how to increase your intimacy” or the importance of date nights. Frankly, that kind of marriage advice rarely transforms anyone. Instead, we’re stepping into the bigger, deeper biblical story about marriage—not a series of hacks, but a story of real men and women, struggling, sinning, and in desperate need of grace.

When people say they want a “biblical marriage,” I often wonder—have you read the marriages in the Bible?

• Abraham lent out his wife to save his own skin (twice!).
• Job’s wife encouraged him to curse God and die.
• Peter had a mother-in-law but no mention of his wife.
• Hosea was told by God to marry someone who would betray him.

These are not exactly the types of marriages I would want.

So lets start at the beginning—with Adam and Eve. They’re not ancient relics; they’re mirrors for us. Genesis 1–3 isn’t about technical details of creation—it’s about the deeper questions: Who made us? Why are we here?

While ancient religions started with cosmic battles, blood, and chaos, Scripture begins with a relational God creating out of love. “Let us make man in our image.” God—the triune, relational God—desires relationship with us, and He designed humanity in that same image: for relationship.

Genesis shows us God’s design:

• A relationship with Him first.
• A relationship with each other—distinct, diverse, yet united.
• A relationship with the world, charged to steward and bless it.

And yet, even before sin entered, God said, “It is not good for man to be alone.” Aloneness, even in paradise, was not good. So God made a “helper suitable for him”—a phrase we’ve tragically misunderstood. The Hebrew word for “helper” (ezer) is most often used to describe God Himself helping Israel. It’s a word of strength, not subordination.

God’s design wasn’t a hierarchy—it was partnership. Side by side, under the arm to be protected, near the heart to be loved, as Matthew Henry put it so beautifully.

Marriage was never meant to complete us. It was meant to transform us.

When God formed Eve, He didn’t just speak her into existence or craft her from the dirt like Adam. He put Adam into a deep sleep, opened his side, and took a rib—an act marked by pain and sacrifice. Adam likely bore a scar the rest of his life, a reminder that love requires sacrifice, vulnerability, and sometimes even wounding.

That same image points us forward to Jesus Christ, whose side was pierced for us on the cross. Christ entered into our brokenness and woundedness, not just to sympathize, but to heal and redeem.

Genesis 2 closes with Adam and Eve naked and unashamed—fully known, fully loved, without barriers. But in Genesis 3, everything shatters.

Sin enters, and immediately shame follows. They hide. They cover themselves. They blame each other.

• Adam says, “It was the woman you gave me.”
• Eve says, “It was the serpent.”
• No one takes ownership.
• Everyone hides.

That pattern hasn’t changed, has it?

When a wife named Sue reminds her husband to take the trash out again, she’s not just frustrated about the trash. She fears if she doesn’t control the situation, she’ll be stuck forever. It all depends on her. God’s absent from her thinking. That same pattern of fear, control, blame—it’s Adam and Eve all over again. It’s us.

The real root of our relational brokenness isn’t lack of techniques. It’s our sin.

• Sin distorts how we view others.
• Sin causes us to hide and blame.
• Sin isolates us from God and from each other.

And no marriage weekend or five-step plan can fix that. Only gospel transformation can.

I don’t want a “biblical marriage” with Lindsay—I want a gospel-centered marriage. A marriage where weaknesses are exposed not to shame us, but to heal us.

Guilt is good when it drives us to repentance.
Shame—the belief that something is wrong with who we are—is never from God.

If you’ve been listening and thinking, “Yeah, my spouse needs to hear this,” stop.
Instead, ask:
What is God trying to say to me?

Let God deal with the other person. Let Him do His work. Let Him transform you.

Because the gospel declares:

• You are loved even in your brokenness.
• You are pursued even when you hide.
• You are forgiven, not because you fixed yourself, but because Jesus bore the wound for you.