By Ross Hendrickson

I need to say this up front. To me, Jerry Seinfeld is the greatest stand-up comedian of all time. You may disagree, and that is fine, but he is my comedy GOAT. His ability to take ordinary situations like waiting in line at the grocery store, sitting in traffic, or trying to sleep next to another human being and turn them into hilarious observations is unmatched. Since marriage already feels like one long comedy routine, it only makes sense to borrow inspiration from the master himself.

“Single people are like marathon runners. You have your water bottle, your playlist, and nobody slowing you down. Married people are more like three-legged race contestants at a church picnic. There is stumbling, someone is yelling directions, and somehow you are still supposed to smile for the camera.”

Seinfeld was not exaggerating. Single life and married life are completely different sports. When you are single, you can eat cereal for dinner and no one questions you. You can binge-watch a whole season of a show until three in the morning without a raised eyebrow. You can sleep diagonally across the bed and nobody complains. Marriage changes the script. Now, if you are awake at three in the morning, it is usually because your spouse has stolen the covers or because you are silently debating if you should buy separate blankets.

As humorous as this can be, marriage is also one of the most profound commitments a person can make. It is holy, stretching, exhausting, beautiful, and sometimes confusing. If you have ever sat in silence after an argument and thought, “I love this person, but do they really not know how to load a dishwasher?” you are not alone.

Seinfeld once joked that when you are single, your fridge has three items in it. Milk, pickles, and maybe ketchup. Married people open their fridge, and it looks like a grocery store. Leftovers, sauces, mystery containers, and a Tupperware dish from 2008 that now qualifies as a science experiment.

Relationships are built on contrasts. Extroverts often marry introverts. Planners marry people who cannot stick to a calendar if their life depended on it. One spouse wants the house freezing, the other wants it warm enough to grow tropical plants. Couples often assume the differences are the problem. In reality, the way we handle those differences is usually the real issue.

The book of Proverbs reminds us, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Sparks fly when iron meets iron. Sparks also fly when you are arguing about thermostat settings at midnight. But sharpening is the whole point. Our differences may feel like stand-up material at times, yet God uses them to grow us and shape us.

Marriage is sacred. Scripture tells us the two shall become one flesh. Many couples hear that verse and think it means becoming the exact same person. They imagine shared tastes in television, perfectly aligned weekend hobbies, and identical strategies for folding laundry. Then real life shows up.

Seinfeld once said, “If two people are exactly the same, one of them is unnecessary.” He was right. The goal of marriage is not cloning. It is complementing. You do not disappear in the process. You grow together without losing yourself.

Without boundaries, marriage can feel suffocating. Boundaries are like fences in a yard. They show where one person ends and the other begins. A fence does not mean you cannot enter. It just means there is a gate and you knock first. In relationships that sound like, “Yes, I want to hear your story, but maybe not right now while I am plunging the sink.” Or, “I love you, but no, you cannot read my group text thread with my friends while I am in the shower.”

Healthy couples understand that honoring boundaries creates safety. It is not rejection. It is respect.

Seinfeld’s comedy often turns on the everyday misunderstandings we all experience. He once joked about people who argue over directions in the car. The husband insists on a shortcut. The wife insists the shortcut is actually the long way. They are both wrong. They still end up at the same restaurant forty-five minutes late.

Communication in marriage often feels just like that. We get caught up in proving our point instead of listening to each other’s hearts. I often tell couples that communication is not only about words. It is about tone, timing, and intention. It is the difference between “You never help with the dishes,” and “I would love it if you helped me with the dishes tonight.” Same request. Very different outcomes.

James 1:19 gives us a reminder that could solve half the fights in every marriage. “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry.” Most couples read that verse and say, “Yes, but my spouse needs to memorize it more than I do.”

If marriage were a Seinfeld episode, the plot would always revolve around the little things. Who left the wet towel on the bed? Who used the good scissors to cut cardboard? Who forgot that the in-laws were coming for dinner? The small things build up until you start wondering if you married a rational adult or an alien who just landed from another galaxy.

Here is the test. If you can laugh about it together, you are in good shape. Humor is often the pressure valve in relationships. It breaks tension, reminds us not to take ourselves too seriously, and helps us zoom out. If you can chuckle about your spouse’s quirks, you are already halfway to grace.

Therapy is not the comedy club, but it does bring perspective. Couples often come in thinking the therapist will be the referee who declares a winner. In reality, therapy is more like a translator booth. One person says, “I feel ignored.” The other hears, “You think I am a failure.” The therapist steps in and says, “Let me rephrase that before we need paramedics.”

Therapy helps couples slow down, understand the meaning behind the words, and build habits of empathy. It also creates a safe place to say the hard things without turning it into a shouting match.

And just like in Seinfeld’s routines, the everyday absurdities often show up. We end up laughing about how couples can fight for forty minutes over the remote control but never spend forty minutes planning a date night.

While humor and therapy are valuable, faith is the true anchor for marriage. Ecclesiastes 4:12 tells us, “A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” Marriage without God can survive, but marriage with God can thrive. Faith gives us perspective beyond the argument of the day. It reminds us that our commitment is not only to each other but also before God.

At the same time, faith does not erase the comedy. Couples with strong faith still argue about toothpaste tubes and Amazon deliveries. Faith does not eliminate our humanity. It simply gives us grace to handle it better.

Marriage is not a solo marathon. It is not even a simple three-legged race. It is more like running a three-legged marathon while holding a toddler, balancing a bag of groceries, and trying to remember if you left the oven on. And yet it is worth it.

Seinfeld’s comedy highlights the absurd moments of everyday life. Marriage therapy highlights the deeper meaning behind those moments. Faith gives us the courage to keep showing up even when the laugh track is silent.

The truth is, marriage will test your patience, your communication skills, and your ability to forgive. It will also deepen your joy, expand your capacity for love, and teach you more about grace than any book ever could.

So whether you are single, married, or somewhere in between, remember this:  Relationships are not meant to be perfect – they are meant to be lived. They are funny, frustrating, sacred, and messy all at once.

And if you are struggling, maybe the best thing you can do is picture your life as a sitcom. The next time you and your spouse argue about the thermostat, imagine Jerry Seinfeld’s voice asking, “What is the deal with central air conditioning?” You might just find yourself laughing instead of yelling.

Marriage does not always feel like a romantic movie. More often, it feels like a comedy routine with too many characters, too many props, and not enough commercial breaks. Yet in those ordinary moments God is at work. He takes the laughter, the tension, and even the tears, and uses them to build something sacred.

So hold on to humor. Hold on to faith. And when in doubt, remember the wisdom of Seinfeld. Sometimes you just need to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.