Month: February 2008

Are you looking for the key to happy marriage? The key to long marriage? I think we’re all looking for the key to something. Just think of the things for which you wish you had the key. I need to lose twenty pounds fast; what’s the key to fast weightloss. I wish I had buckets of money; what’s the to getting rich quickly? I wish we had happy, compliant and delightful children; what’s the key to perfect children? O, I wish our home looked like magazine photos; what’s the key to a beautiful and orderly home while raising children?

See, we all want the key – the key to success, the key to thinness, the key to youth — whatever our ______wish, we all know we secretly wish for the key to it. Same with marriage. Women are longing for the key to success in marriage. They think if they could just get a hold of that key – that special formula that would produce or unlock the door to success, they’d finally have a happy marriage – they’d be happy.

Well, here’s the secret: there is no magic key.

There is no magic formula and there is no dot to dot template. There is no ancient secret that only 33% of married couples are privileged to receive. Just like there aren’t people who are ‘just born organized’ or have ‘what it takes’ to have a large family, there aren’t people who just naturally have long happy marriages.

But.

Don’t you just love that word? But. I think it’s probably one of my very favourite words of all words. “But” conveys a whole host of things – it’s like a gigantic stop sign. It says, hey, things were going one way or things might look bad or bleak or hopeless !BUT! things don’t have to be. And here’s why: But God… but God who is rich in mercy…

I’m telling you faith in God is key to just about anything you’ll ever face. If you don’t have faith in God, you — quite literally — don’t have a prayer. That’s what I was meaning when I said yesterday that it is by the grace of God that we have been happily married as long as we have. If it weren’t the Lord who was on our side, I’m telling you truly, we would have capitulated to the great abyss of selfishness, self-centeredness, loss and quite possibly have been another of the casualties of marriage: divorced.

So, I’m going to say that there is a secret – but it’s no secret, really. The key to long marriage (besides physical longevity) is faith in God and the resolute affirmation that in this home – between these two people – now or ever – there will be no divorce. Period. We will strive together – not against one another – to preserve, protect, fortify and strengthen our walk with God, our faith in Jesus and our commitment to be the other for the other. It’s the resolve to say: Sweetheart: I am your other – you are my other and beside you there will never be another and beside me there will never be another. We together are the only other we are going to have. Ever. And by the grace of God, I will learn what it takes to be the best other for you beyond what you could ask or imagine.

Tomorrow I’ll share a bit more… some practical things I’ve learned and am working on – sort of what’s in the fabric of a long marriage.

For many days now I’ve been mulling over the question: what have thirty years of marriage have taught me? When I look back at where we were, where we’ve been and all that’s happened through the years, all I can honestly say is that it is the kindness, the grace and the mercy of God that we’re where we are today. Now, that might be a preface one might use to begin telling the story of a once rocky marriage or the story of a marriage that was saved from shipwreck. In deciding to use the “it’s by the grace of God…” preface is to say that we are humbly aware that the blessings, the good things, etc., etc., are all by the grace of God. That preface is used to convey the thought that we are in awe of the benevolent grace and mercy of the Lord we’ve been immersed in through all these years.

I know that years have softened rough edges of difficulties or trials, disappointments, lack and loss through the years and that my memories are probably a bit selective and my vision is not as sharp as it once was, but I’m not wearing rose coloured glasses today to gloss over reality. Perhaps more accurately though, I find that there’s some real benefit to wearing rose coloured glasses… it’s in wearing them that there’s a blessing to just be able to pass over the things that really don’t matter and to glowingly see the things that do. And so, that’s probably my introduction to what thirty years of marriage have taught me: to pass over the things that really don’t matter and joyfully anticipate and savour the things that do. Because, truly, most things we fret (or fretted) over, or make (or made) a big deal over, are really not (or weren’t) all that important.

In the end, some of those little irritations, those petty arguments, and selfish preferences really didn’t and really don’t matter. And so, what I wish I had known then (whenever the ‘then’ was — yesterday, ten years ago, twenty years ago or even thirty years ago) are things I know (a bit more) now. I’ve been learning more and more through the years to just pass over the unimportant things *and* to not make big things out of little things. Thirty years have taught me that we honestly and truly will forget or think unimportant those things that in the past might’ve gripped us — those things we might’ve at one time thought of as impossible, irreconcilable differences or grievances. So, what are those things?

Well, I’ve wondered a lot lately: what are the things that I was or might’ve been irritated over in the past or what things made me frustrated, nervous, disappointed, and etc.? Put in perspective, I’ve thought of this question further in this context: if Wes were to die tonight, what would not matter or what would not have mattered? Really… deep down matter? Then, for even more clarity: if he only had three and a half months to live, would some of this stuff matter at all? Would those things that didn’t get done or those things I wanted to do and didn’t or couldn’t — what, if anything, would matter or be worth quibbling over?

Some inconsiderate comment? Socks on the floor? Forgetting important details of a story? Neglecting to remember an appointment? Not being as ‘good’ or as ______ (fill in the blank here) as Mrs. So ‘n so’s husband? Would I care about some of my have not’s? Would I be impatient with him? Would it irritate me that he forgot to do or say something? Would I find it drudgery to run another errand for him, or wait for him, or have him be late for dinner or whatever great or small inconvenience was in my path?

Well, since we don’t know the day or the hour of our own death, our husband’s death or the great or small activities we may face. One thing i do know is this: the Bible says, “The discretion of a man defereth his anger and it is his glory to pass over a transgression.” – we read in Proverbs 19.11. A glory to pass over a transgression? A glory? Yes. It is a glory to just let things go – to say, it doesn’t matter. Let that comment go into the sea of forgetfulness. I know poat is not a great acronym – it’s not catchy and it’s not all the attractive. So the only thing I’ve ever been able to tie it to is this: poat, don’t pout.

So… that’s probably one of the greatest benefits or lessons I’ve been learning through the years. Let those disappointments, those trials, those insensitive words or comments, those missed marks – misunderstandings, those less than ideal conditions… let then slip away and be cast into the sea of forgetfulness.

Last night as we were dining in a delightful little Greek restaurant – Monday night, notoriously not a very busy night of the week in restaurants, we had smatterings of conversations with our server… a beautiful young woman glowing with early pregnancy and youth. Later she asked what brought us to the island and what we were celebrating; we told her today’s our thirtieth wedding anniversary! Glowing. :o) She was taken aback and quickly offered: “Wow, congratulations!”

Later she returned and said… so I want to know: what would you tell me is the key to long marriage?

Pass over things. Not a lot of what you think’s important today is really all that important. Let little things go… don’t be petty and don’t get easily ruffled or offended. It doesn’t matter… it really doesn’t matter. Delight in him… let him know it – live it every day. You may not have tomorrow. Make today the best today. Trust the Lord. We talked a little bit about a lot of different things.

She returned again later saying she wanted to take care of our dessert for us for being such an encouragement and blessing to her. The whole evening was delightful… as sweet as thirty years of dessert.

You know, I sometimes find it hard to believe I’m over thirty years old… but it’s harder for me to fathom thirty years of marriage. And, in many ways, it feels like we’re just beginning.  So… now we’ve sure been reminiscing. Thirty years… February 4, 1978.

I think over then next few days I’ll write a little bit about marriage and what thirty years has taught me. I’ve loved being married. I’ve loved being married to the man I’m married to. You know, lately I’ve been thinking of so many things… I smile as I think that in many ways, he’s not the same man I married. The man I married was not my lifelong companion, my fully and completely trusted friend, my safe harbour in the storms of life. The man I married was not the father of eleven children… he hadn’t been proven, tested, strengthened, beaten down, bold to start over again and again. The man I married was invincible and I’m sure I thought he’d never get old, never get sick, never get tired and never fail. The man I married was adventuresome and he was charming, delightful and thought I was everything.

At the time, I was far from thirty. I was, by any standard, a very inexperienced and often foolish girl. I didn’t know… well, let’s just say that, looking back now, I didn’t know much about anything.

True story: one day, shortly after we were married, I went shopping and bought groceries. Lots of groceries. I recall that I spent $176. Yep, lots of groceries. There were just the t-w-o of us in our one bedroom-upstairs apartment. I have no idea now how I could’ve purchased all those groceries for t-w-o people. But I did. I was from a very small family – just three of us, by the way, and I, myself, was very small and didn’t eat much. So, the groceries…

Well, I got them all put away and it must have been just a short time later that I proceeded to make the dinner. I call it ‘the dinner’ bcz I fixed fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, peas and carrots, salad, rolls and a blueberry pie. That’s what was in the picture in my cookbook.  I loved my kitchen and my new cookbooks — my new world.   Wes hardly said a word all through dinner… just kept smiling and eating. He’d look around the table at all the place settings I had set out (because I thought the dishes looked so pretty) and he’d smile at me and keep on eating. At the end of the meal, still holding my hand, he said that was the best meal he’d ever eaten.  (btw – I *never* make that meal anymore)

Well, anyway, another day, in the early months, I decided to bake an apple pie. Hmmmm. Pare and core. Hmmmm. What does that mean? So, I called my husband at work (I know, I cannot believe it either) to ask him what does it mean to pare and core the apples? Is that peeling them and cutting them up? Yes, he says, I think that’s it! So, I asked him, then why didn’t they just write: Peel and core? O, I see… the paring is the peeling and slicing process. Okay.

I’m sure it’s the best pie I ever made – truly. That’s what he told me. And I still believe him. 🙂

The man I married didn’t have a whole lot of worries, concerns or responsibilities – O, I think they were there, but there were really few things that ever concerned him. I’d never seen him weep. I’d never seen him disappointed. I’d never seen him sad or weary. Thirty years has some sorrows. Thirty years has some disappointments. Thirty years has a bunch of memories – so many, many memories. Thirty years is to me now a very, very long journey with lots of hills and valleys, beautiful sunrises, full moons and leaves falling. Thirty years sees lots of blooms, hopes and dreams and lots of stormy days, but enough sunny days to warm the heart and the skin on your shoulders. Sunny days, soft breezes…thirty years sees lots of answers to prayer, lots of ways the LORD went before and provided and guided the path.  Thirty years… watching children grow and go;  kneeling beside our bed in prayer, walking the floor with fussy babies, standing beside cribs to just watch. Thirty years of watching and waiting, praying and hoping.  Thirty years around the table… at bedsides, and fevers, soft baths and fluffy towels, streams in the deserts, steep hills and rocks on the path… soft rain on roses.

On the night we were married, I recall him looking into my eyes and I thought at that moment I could never love him more. But I also know now, that I didn’t really know what love — true love — was.  I had not yet really seen the Hand of the LORD, I had not understood the provision of God – and didn’t know what it was to have a marriage as a picture of Christ and the church.  I now know that I didn’t have any idea the blessing in store in the gift of my husband.  I had not yet seen him tenderly caring for my every need, immersed in the moment, looking into my eyes, helping me through contraction after contraction, baby after baby… each time overwhelmed with love and gratitude looking into the face of each newborn baby and then over at me. He wept over those babies… and sometimes still does, even though they’re far from those days now.

I didn’t know the man I married would still be saying to me nearly every single morning, in answer to: how’d you sleep? Fine, I got to sleep next to you, didn’t I? And you know… after he had a heart attack and was still in the hospital and I slept in our bed alone, when I awoke, it wasn’t that I felt it was so hard to sleep alone, but it was hard to wake up alone. My heart is tender for those who are waking up alone today. The bittersweets of life.

I never thought we’d be thirty… but I sure am glad… and I wouldn’t trade a single day away for anything, anyone, anywhere in the world.