Autumn Song

Today my husband and I celebrate our 49th anniversary, which means that starting today, we begin working toward completing fifty years of marriage. Fifty years. Half a century is a long time, and understandably, it’s cause for deep reflection, as well as celebration. 

It occurred to me this morning that if I were to merely suggest that we made a lucky choice in marrying each other, it wouldn’t be particularly helpful, especially to those who have struggled– or continue to struggle– in their marriages; who might be wishing it could have been as “easy” for them as for us; who may feel regretful that– alas– they were never “that perfect blend” after all.

But trying to portray the illusion of being a “perfect blend” doesn’t provide the hope that’s so essential in sustaining what God has called us to. What does give hope is knowing that there are others who have persevered through the inevitable deep valleys of life– and even through those awful dips when we don’t ‘feel’ love. What gives hope is knowing there really are others who are also deeply committed to the covenant vows they made to God and to each other, realizing that their marriage, through all the ups and downs of life, is a constant representation of the Gospel to those around us– a demonstration of God’s forgiveness, faithfulness, perseverance, servanthood, and ‘love’ as God defines it. 

It’s so true that opposites attract. Oh my, yes! In fact, it’s in the very nature of marriage itself, evident when God created total opposites– man and woman– and said that these two would become one. They would “fit together” and complete each other to make a whole. True to form, Dan and I could not possibly be more different from each other. When I first met him, I was so strongly attracted to all the traits that completed the empty places in me– his adventurous spirit and eagerness to take risks, his strong leadership, his fierce independence… and yet the very things that drew me so forcefully to him (because they were lacking in me) became the very points of contention between us after we married. Ironic, isn’t it!? It’s just like the struggles between Christ and the perpetual problems of His Bride, the Church, as we are shaped more and more to be one with Him– am I right?

What sustained us through those years of iron-sharpening-iron is that original covenant promise we made to each other and to God almost 50 years ago. It saddens me deeply that evangelical Christians these days do not comprehend or take seriously the idea of “covenant vows.” Before I married Dan, I remember telling my sister that it was a covenant I was entering into, and from my wedding day on, my relationship to my husband would be as unshakable as my relationship to my Dad. I knew there would be times ahead when we would be angry with each other, but it would be just as ridiculous (I told her) for me to say, “That’s it, I’m not going to be your wife anymore” as it would have been for me to say to my Dad, “That’s it, I’m not going to be your daughter anymore” just because emotions are raw, or because we have ‘irreconcilable differences.” We are obligated by the covenant to work out the differences until the ‘feelings’ come back. We need this means to demonstrate to a dying world Christ’s forgiveness, cleansing, reconciliation, unity, vision, and purpose!

Neither my husband nor I are the same persons we were when we first married (thanks be to God!!) That’s because marriage is a great investment: you get out of it multiple-times-over what you put into it. These last almost-50 years have been the best and greatest investment either of us has ever made! It’s really pretty great at this point. It was worth it. Oh, so worth it. Now let’s see how good a 50th year of marriage can be.