My marriage is the ultimate gift from god.

A gift given once still has to be looked after. Nobody assumes a garden takes care of itself just because the seeds arrived free.

Whatever you believe about where it came from, the arriving is the smaller part. Two people were handed something and then spent decades on the ordinary maintenance of it: the apologies, the compromises about Christmas, the long drives to the other family.

Gratitude and effort are not in competition. The people most certain their marriage was given to them tend to be the ones working hardest at it.

Tending it is not a failure of faith in the gift. It is the form the thanks takes.