One of the big questions my husband Brian and I asked when we were dating was "Do we have what it takes to be a good team?" We both thought we did. We have many of the same life goals like raising a family to know and love Jesus. We share a passion for discipleship, spiritual disciplines and strong coffee in large quantities. We both like to pose as outdoorsy people, but really want to spend our weekends reading on the couch. And even though our personalities are quite different, we were confident those differences would be more of a help than a hindrance.

We wrongly assumed that "I do" would make us the team we'd assessed our potential to be. Most days we feel like to two "I"s fighting against each other rather than a "we" working together. In his sermon "God Judges," Pastor Mark Driscoll explains that one of the effects of the fall in marriage is that too often husbands and wives stop relating to each other as allies, but as enemies. In my very short experience (five months), that's been true. Brian's on my team. He's my ally, but I treat him like he's my enemy.

Over Christmas Brian's grandmother passed away. We spent five days with his parents while the rest of the family came in from out of town and preparations were made. In the midst of great loss and stress we watched his parents working together in a way that we hope to one day be true of us. I know my in-law's story. The 34 years that they've been married isn't what has made them a good team; time alone has not done this work. It's the mornings spent together in prayer, the challenging years of raising four teenagers and the steadfast pursuit of God. Their "oneness" highlighted the immaturity of our young marriage, but was also an encouragement that given time and submission to the Holy Spirit's work in our lives we too can be more allies than enemies.

I'm going into 2010 with the realization that oneness is not something that just happens at the alter or simply comes with time, but is cultivated by hard work over time. Maybe you made a similar assessment about your and your spouse's "team potential" early on. What things have you done or experienced this side of the alter to cultivate oneness?

While we were at my in-laws for Thanksgiving my mother-in-law gave me a giant box of my husband's Christmas ornaments dating back to his first Christmas. She also threw in some other decorations that she doesn't use anymore like a "Charlie Brown" type Christmas tree, a wreath, two strands of white lights and 10 ft of aspen swag. I hadn't planned on purchasing Christmas decorations this year since we'll be moving soon, but her hand-me-down decorations ignited my inner decorator.

The next day I woke up to a living room full of unorganized Christmas decorations and being a little Type A, I went immediately to work sorting and planning. My husband Brian had to spend the day working on an assignment for school, so I told myself I would only get things organized and would wait for him to really decorate. But being Type A it's hard to start a job and not finish it, so I did "a little more" and "a little more" until there was nothing left to do.

I vacuumed up the tree needles and looked around at my work. The decorations were fine and the living room was clean again, but I had a sinking feeling that I had missed out on something special. I had just decorated for our first Christmas together alone.

When we were engaged I was convicted that I prized efficiency more than Brian. Since then I've learned that loving my husband is worth a little wasted time. (For example, drinking coffee with him in the morning instead of cleaning up the breakfast dishes or running errands together that I could easily have run by myself.) But this thing with the tree was the first time that I felt I'd missed out because of my own efficiency.

Brian came home that evening saying how great the Christmas tree looked and how cozy the apartment felt all lit up. He doesn't particularly like decorating, so he was fine to just enjoy my work. But I knew what decorating could have been. We could have listened to Bing Crosby and drank hot chocolate while Brian told me about his childhood ornaments. It probably wouldn't have been magical, but I'm sure it would have been special nonetheless.

I said that this is the first time I've missed out because of my sick need love for efficiency, but the more I reflect on it I think I miss out a lot. This Christmas as I continue to look for ways to steward my time welI, I'm also keeping an eye out for opportunities to "waste" some time with my husband.

When Brian and I were dating I don't think we wrote each other a single "love letter." But since we've been married it's something really we've grown into.

I say it's something we've "grown into" meaning we aren't pros at this love letter thing. Like most things in our new marriage we're getting better with practice. Sometimes my letters are simply expressing my support as Brian goes into a challenging week, letting him know that I'm on his side. Sometimes Brian's letters are just acknowledging the mundane ways I serve him like packing his lunch and keeping up with our laundry.

Other times our letters are a little more like something out of the Song of Songs. On the morning of our two-month anniversary I opened my Bible and found a lengthy letter from Brian affirming his committed and covenantal love for me. I sobbed for half an hour and ended up being late to work. Not all of Brian's letters bring me to tears, but they do reorient me toward passionate, committed love for my husband.

I know a couple that every time I go to their house there's a collection of post-it notes on the cabinet above their coffee pot. One time when I was making coffee at their place, I started to read one. It began "Dear Lover ..." and being quick on the uptake I knew it was a love note and promptly stopped reading. After countless visits to their kitchen, I've still never read one of those post-its but I'm always encouraged that even in the busiest season of family life this couple intentionally cultivates romance.

Writing love letters has deepened our affection and appreciation for one another in ways I wouldn't have expected. And whether I'm getting a letter from Brian or he's giving me one, it serves as a reminder of the gift that I have in my spouse and in the ministry of marriage.

In the months leading up to our wedding Brian and I read a lot of pre-marital books. It's probably more accurate to say I read a lot of books and narrowed down the really good ones for Brian to read. There were chapters in all the books we read about dealing with in-laws. As far as marital problems go it sounded like in-laws are right up there with sex and money. Before reading those books I was excited about the new family that Brian and I were gaining by getting married. But everything we were reading made me a little nervous about running into in-law issues.

During the time my anxiety was building I had a bridal shower where Brian's mother did something that eased my fears and set an extraordinary example of motherhood. When I opened her gift there was her apron that I had worn many times while cooking at their house. At first I thought she was giving me her apron (which would have been awesome because I've always admired it) and and then she stood up and said that there was another part to the gift she wanted to read to me. She opened a sheet of printed paper folded like a card and began to read:

Dear Ashley,

As I cut these apron strings in my relationship with Brian and give them to you, they come with the following promises ...

I promise to give you and Brian privacy and independence. I will never "drop by" without calling to ask if a visit is convenient. I will respect your boundaries.

I promise to not put pressure on you to produce grandchildren.

I promise to never gossip about you. I will defend you and promote you to others.

I promise to keep my opinions about your housekeeping, cooking, finances, personal tastes and parenting to myself. I promise not to give unsolicited advice about the way you live.

I promise to be flexible about the holidays. I will enjoy being with you whenever we can be together.

I promise to never feed your children "forbidden foods." I will uphold all of your house rules.

You and Brian will be a new family unit, with unique characteristics. I promise to cheer you both on in that uniqueness.

I promise to support your marriage over my relationship with Brian. You are the number one woman in his life.

I promise to pray for you, love you and respect you as I do my other daughters.

With God's help, I promise these things joyfully and sincerely and this old apron with it's newly grafted strings will be a reminder to me of these promises.

And with that, she cut the strings off of her old apron and gave them to me. It's only been three months since those promises were made (I'm the resident newlywed) but so far every one of them has been kept. Even though my in-laws have done their part, I'm learning that it takes both parties to prevent the in-law issues I'd heard so much about.

There are days when problems arise and my first reaction is to call my mom. For the last 20 years she's helped me sort through crises and comforted me when I'm near inconsolable. Brian and I don't have a 20-year history and he doesn't always know what to say when I'm sad or stressed, but if I go with my first reaction to call my mom, he will never get the chance to learn. By making the choice to take my problems to my husband I'm sometimes left feeling misunderstood, but other times my emotional needs are met in a way no one else (including my mother) could have. And even when my needs aren't met in the way I wish they were, it's worth it because becoming one is a higher value than always feeling understood.

As Ted would say, I'm no in-law expert but I have a hunch that healthy in-law relationships depend more on the couple's priority to cleave to their spouse than the in-law's promise to respect their boundaries.