They always have something to say. “Just wait until the honeymoon phase is over.” “Cross-cultural marriages are hard… they don’t last”, “men from that country are so xyz, don’t do it”. The words came as warnings, sometimes wrapped in concern, sometimes spoken casually, but always planting the same quiet doubt.

We heard it again and again. As if everyone wanted us to know that the differences between us would one day outweigh everything that brought us together. And yet, we remained sure in the middle of the noise, with quiet conviction that love is a choice not some fragile feeling.

Our Honeymoon

We never had a honeymoon, or even a wedding. Our marriage began quietly without fireworks in a little smoldering court room in Haiti. We repeated our vows and signed the papers. Then we went “home” to a little crowded room in a relatives house where I was living at the time.

Though it was not some Hallmark romance where I was swept off my feet and whisked away to a perfect life of ease, this is our story. My husband and I share a true and realistic loving marriage. One that has been sustained through hard seasons. One that hasn’t always been easy but has always been good.

I don’t believe the “honeymoon phase” has to end; I believe it can deepen. Not because life is always easy, but because love, when rooted in something greater, chooses to stay tender, joyful, and alive. Lasting love isn’t about perfection—it’s about intention. It’s about choosing each other again and again, through every season, and believing that the maker of our love can carry us through any obstacles that come.

What God writes is not meant to wither, but to deepen—refined through every season. The marriage covenant is a lifelong unfolding love that He sustains.

I Went to Serve, I Gained Love

The air in Haiti struck me the moment I arrived—thick with heat, music, and exhaust. It clung to my skin and stirred something in my spirit, like I had stepped into a story already in motion. The belonging I felt amidst that nation was undeniable. I wasn’t there looking for love. I was there with purpose, with calling, with open hands ready to serve—never expecting them to be filled.

And yet, somewhere between the months of serving, hours of flights, the dusty roads, the laughter of children, and the rhythm of Creole spoken all around me, I began to see him for the first time. It wasn’t dramatic—no slow motion, no grand entrance, no love at first sight—just a quiet, steady moment where everything in me seemed to pause and take notice. I was falling for my best friend.

The first thing that drew me to him was the kindness in his eyes, the kind that comes from knowing hardship and choosing joy anyway. His care for others was greater than anyone I had ever met. He was completely selfless giving all of himself for those around him without needing recognition. Our friendship was effortless even with the language barrier.

We spoke simply at first—small conversations, shared smiles, laughing at the misunderstandings. But something deeper was unfolding beneath it all, something neither of us rushed into. It grew in the in-between spaces—walking side by side, serving together, learning each others cultures. There was no doubt in my mind that God was drawing us together.

Made Unshakable

There were challenges, of course. Different cultures, different worlds, different expectations pressing in from every side. At times it would have been easier to walk away, to call it too complicated, too uncertain. God knows we received so much counsel from those around us to that effect. At the mission where I was volunteering we faced so much opposition from the people we worked with.

It was hard. Very very hard. Not because I didn’t love my husband. Nor because he didn't love me well. But because choosing to get married meant severing ties to the mission that we had invested so much into and breaking off friendships that became negative and toxic.

We had to choose each other again and again, not just in the easy moments, but in the ones that asked something of us. In those choices, something unshakable was built. Our relationship became established, not because we were just so compatible. Or because I found “the one”. But because we endured so much shaking that we learned to dig our roots in deeper.

You’ll Never Find The ONE

Something that I learned in that time; was that all of my expectations about finding the perfect “one” for me were built on false ideas. I thought we were supposed to be compatible, but we didn't even speak the same language (not until I became fluent in Creole at least). We were supposed to have all these shared interests, but he didn’t even know my hobbies existed and I knew nothing about his favorite pass times.

Looking back, I see that Haiti didn’t just introduce me to my husband—it transformed me. It taught me that love isn’t something you plan perfectly or find in the places you expect. Sometimes it finds you when your heart is focused on something bigger than yourself. And it will just be natural, not something you need to chase after.

Our story didn’t begin with certainty, but it grew into something far greater—something rooted in faith, shaped by sacrifice, and overflowing with joy. And even now, every time I think about how it all began, I can still feel that same overwhelming peace… I look back on all those sweet early moments. I just knew I would love him for life.

After The Honeymoon

The honeymoon phase is said to be the first two years or so of marriage. After that many people “fall out” of love. Or at least wake up to find that their partner is not as perfect as they seemed that first night, first week, and first year of marriage. I have heard countless women talk about grinning and bearing marriage, intimacy, or life, after the honeymoon phase fades.

After we were married, there were for sure many challenges. Life carried us far from the sunlit roads and familiar rhythms of Haiti to a new chapter in the United States. What we had built so naturally there suddenly felt tested in ways we hadn’t expected. Everything was different—the pace, the culture, the stress of bills, schedules, and commitments.

My husband was navigating a new country that didn’t feel like home, and I was trying to hold everything together while watching him carry the weight of leaving everything behind. There were moments when the simplicity we once knew felt distant, like a beautiful dream we had woken up from too soon. The transition was hard—but it taught us how to stand beside each other in deeper, more intentional ways.

Through our experience I learned that the “honeymoon phase” is just a fictional thing created by people who aren’t actually choosing to love someone. Rather they chose to enjoy temporary pleasure and then give up when reality becomes less fun.

Sixth Year Anniversary

Our life is much harder this year as we celebrate six years of marriage than it was at the two year marriage mark. However, I can honestly say that I love my husband more and better than I did six years ago. When Christ is at the center of a marriage and both partners are giving 100% of themselves to each other I truly believe that a honeymoon depth of love can be lifelong.

In the middle of it all, we find ourselves longing for those first days—the ones filled with sun-warmed evenings, shared purpose, and the excitement of something new. There was a purity in that season, a kind of joy untouched by pressure or expectation. Free from the stresses of life in the United States.

Sometimes we close our eyes and go back there, remembering the laughter, the quiet glances, the way love felt like it was just beginning to bloom.

But even as we miss it, we’ve come to realize something beautiful: that first love didn’t disappear—it grew roots. What we had in Haiti was the beginning, but what we have now is stronger, deeper, and tested. And somehow, even here, we are learning how to fall in love all over again.

The images below are as follows; Going out as friends in 2018, Bothering him as always, Our little family, Our last picture together before his three week Haiti trip.

Fostering Affection

Love is a choice, something that two people commit to, whether or not the feelings are there. Affection is different. Affection is a feeling of fondness. You can love someone apart from affection and you can feel affection for someone without the commitment to loving them.

However, when both are present marriage becomes so beautiful. Here are a few ways we foster affection in our intercultural marriage and you can too;

Go out of you way to make the other feel seen‍ ‍
Make his favorite dinner. Buy her a dress in her favorite color and tell her she looks beautiful when she wears it. Plan a simple date night after a long week. Put a love note in his lunch box to make his smile when he opens it at work. Clean her muddy shoes without her asking. Wake him with coffee and a kiss. Etc.
Be understanding about cultural stress
Thankfully, I have experienced my husband’s culture. So when we came to the US together I understood a little of what he was going through. Culture shock, depression, loneliness, and stress. All of these take a huge toll on intercultural couples. No matter where you live one of you will always be more at home than the other. This is a burden that you won’t be able to lift from your spouse no matter how badly you want to. It is so important to be understanding and patient as they navigate and adapt to your culture.
Make time to catch up
Life gets busy. Especially in the US. There are some weeks where I realize “hey, we haven’t even sat down to talk for more than 15 minutes” in I don’t how long. Making time daily, weekly, and monthly to really talk and to listen is so important. When we don’t take the time to connect it is easy to become stressed over little things and misunderstand each other.
Learn to see the beauty in both of your cultures
Try making his cultural meals, learning her local dance, exploring his country (if possible). And get to know your extended family. I’ve seen many cross cultural couples where no effort is made to get to know each other’s family because of a language or cultural barrier. But in familial cultures such as Haiti this is of upmost importance. If you haven’t learned your spouses first language, this is another way you can foster affection in your marriage. Being able to speak loving words in their heart language is huge!
Have fun together
It’s hard sometimes to fit fun into your busy schedule. Working a 9 to 5. Raising kids. Traveling between two countries. But even just casually dancing to that new kompa album, cooking a meal together, watching an episode of your favorite show, going out for coffee, going on a short hike, or browsing the local thrift store go a long way to fostering affection in your relationship through fun. Whatever activities you both enjoy try to do them as often as you are able.

It is God Who Sustains

No human is perfect and no two people will ever be 100% compatible. Every relationship no matter how good the match takes work. Especially cross cultural ones! Loving your spouse well will take everything that you have to give and more. In today’s world marriages rarely last beyond a decade. Without Christ it is nearly impossible to make it!

But, with Him your marriage can grow and deepen as the years go by. Growing sweeter and sweeter with age as a good wine. Practice fostering affection practically, and then stay in prayer for wisdom and grace and watch what God will do.

Happy six years to us! - Rachel

A Love That Lasts