Interracial Humor

The waiter came and handed us individual bills. This could be a bad ending to our anniversary dinner, but we both chuckled and I handed mine to my husband. For fourteen years we had been experiencing confusion with restaurant employees.

You see my husband is black and I am "glow-in-the-dark" white. Many people over the years have asked me if our race has caused tension in our marriage. Most of the time I smile and begin to explain that race has been one of the most minor differences.

When Dave and I met we were about as diverse as any two people could be; he, a very conservative business man and I, an airplane maintainer or as my father fondly called me a "grease monkey." He was in his mid thirties, but looked much younger, and I was just turning twenty one. I liked loud rock and roll and he liked easy listening or light jazz. He ate a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables and the only fruit I consumed came in pies or pastries. I was however guaranteed to eat at least two kinds of vegetables often, French fries and ketchup. He was from the inner city and I was from "Hicksville." I could troubleshoot and repair billion dollar airplanes, but items in a kitchen were foreign to me. My husband kept us fed but ruined the engine in his car, because he didn't know he had to check the oil.

Early on in our marriage we began to work together, I fixed brakes and changed oil, spark plugs, distributor caps, hoses, and thermostats on our vehicles, and he chose laundry duty because the grey clothes I created didn't go well in his professional job.

Over the years we have learned to play nicely in our respective roles. I became domesticated as we had children and I was chosen as the one to stay at home. I see those early years with my kids as such a blessing that the Lord gave me through a husband who felt strongly that nurturing the children was important. He has always maintained a very active role in our kid's lives and the three of them will come to either of us when they need something. Of course our pre-teen girls come to me about body changes and clothes because daddy still sees them as his baby girls, and our son goes to daddy to get his ties on straight.

Today I'm hurrying the kids out the door because we are running late and he is checking to make sure everyone is pulled together properly. I giggle as he wipes breakfast from our son's cheek and reminds my daughters to check their breath before talking to people. A few years ago I returned to work so we share the duties around the house. We both mow the lawn, cook, clean, and spend time with the kids.

My husband is called to build homes for safe and comfortable low income housing and I am involved in missions. He chooses to stay as close to home as possible and I travel the globe. Sometimes he has to work a lot of extra hours and I do extra duty at home and often I am away for a couple weeks at a time for missions work and he does all the duty at home.

Our skin color is a minor bump in our journey of life. We both know by the grace of God we have concurred mountains of differences. Through the trials of learning to work together God has shown us how to use our differences to compliment each other, not to tear each other apart.

We joke now about what drew us together. I tell him I thought he had money. He tells me he thought I was smart and than we laugh about how I couldn't boil water and the fact that I thought "Downy" should get my clothes clean. We both believe God knew what He was doing when He brought us together and that He is pleased when He sees us supporting each other in our very different ministry calls.