
My husband loves spicy foods. I mean really spicy foods. I’m talking about “dripping-sweat-between-bites” spicy foods. (Can it be considered a food if you are sweating more calories than you are taking in?)
On the other hand, I take one look at a jalapeño and begin to perspire.
We’re different, and our differences don’t stop with our opposing palates.
He’s analytical. With a degree in physics and a penchant for solving problems, he constantly breaks down concepts and systems—and sometimes parts of our house—and puts it all back together again.
I’m emotional. I enjoy dabbling in metaphors and painting with words. My feelings often play system takeover and rule the day.
So, how can people who seem different come together and become one?
It’s about what’s at the center.
As we started dating, my husband and I talked about what mattered most to us—our faith, our relationships and building lives that pointed to Christ. We discussed what we wanted in a partner—a communicator who was willing to work through differences and challenges we’d face.
When we married, we committed to love, honor and respect each other no matter what we faced.
We didn’t say we committed ourselves to each other only if the other person did exactly what we wanted and agreed with us in every way. That would be silly, and everyone in attendance would have probably scrambled for the exit with presents in tow! (“Those two aren’t getting a toaster from me!”)
Instead, we made a covenant to hold tight to Jesus and each other to journey over the peaks and through the valleys. When we begin to drift, we call each other back to the covenant and a grounded center.
As we examine our faith, let’s start at the center. Not focused on the ways we are different but on how we are alike. As we reflect on the origins of Anabaptism, we consider how Jesus is the center of our faith, community is the center of our life and reconciliation is the center of our work.
When we ground our communal relationships in these truths, we experience a freedom which extends beyond this. When we experience conflict, questions and arguments, we can return to the source of what brought us together at the beginning.
My marriage isn’t centered on a love for spicy food, feelings or even family. It’s centered on Jesus.
And our conference of Mennonite Brethren churches isn’t centered on the color of carpets, which day we take communion or what language we speak Sunday mornings. It’s centered on Jesus.
As we enter a new year, let us return to these truths that draw us together.

Lacey joined the Christian Leader staff as editor in July 2025. She has more than two decades of experience in editorial writing and strategic communications, creating and editing content for newspaper, magazines, websites and email campaigns. Lacey, her husband and their two girls live in Wichita, Kansas, and attend Ridgepoint Church.

















