An October Memory

 

 

I haven’t had a first date in 47 years, and I’m pretty thankful that dating isn’t on my agenda in the changed environment of the 21^st century. You see, yesterday marked the 47^th anniversary of my first date with my future husband, and we’ve been together ever since. 

It was 1978. He had just turned eighteen, and I was barely twenty. Our eyes met at an all-campus event the first week of school at our college; and in the weeks that followed we had friendly exchanges while my roommate and I continued our practice from the previous year of eating dinner with members from the fifth floor of a neighboring dorm . . . which just happened to be the floor my future husband was living on during his first semester on campus that Fall.

Our first date (on a Thursday night) wasn’t glamorous, but it was meaningful. He asked me to go to a concert on campus, but we could only attend the first half because I was playing in an intramural volleyball game later in the evening. He came to watch my game as part of our date, and he thought I might be an athlete like he was . . . until he saw me play. He didn’t tell me his impression until much later! After the game, we took a walk along the canal that ran next to the gym. 

I’ll admit that, in my third year of college, I was looking for a possible future husband. I had dated enough guys in the first two years to at least know what I didn’t want. Ron seemed different, and I was immediately struck by how well he treated me and his obvious affection for me. We discovered early on that we shared a love of music and of travel. We both fell quickly and never looked back – marrying 21 months later. 

That first date seems like a lifetime ago, and in a lot of ways it was. Forty-seven years is a long time! And marriage has brought many ups and downs. The traditional vows have taken on new meanings as we have experienced life together – for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. We have disappointed each other many times, but we have chosen to forgive the other one over and over through the years. And we both still love music and still love to travel! 

My brother and I got married the same year, and I have never forgotten a message that my new sister-in-law received from a relative of hers whose husband had made some choices that had created difficulty for his family. A simple phrase that summed up her approach to making her marriage work: “A happy marriage isn’t about marrying the right partner . . . it’s about being the right partner.”   

As I continue to add years to the timeframe since my first date with my husband-to-be, and as life continues to be a journey of ups and downs, I’m asking God to help me every day to be the kind of partner that brings happiness and joy to my marriage. And to trust God for the things I can’t control or change. We have less years ahead of us than those behind, but together we can continue to face the future with love for each other and guided by God as we have been since that first date so many years ago. 

The Tie That Binds

 

We hadn’t spoken a single word or had any interaction since we saw each other over eight years ago at a mutual friend’s memorial service. And it had been nearly thirteen years since we worked together closely and shared the daily ups and downs of our personal lives with each other. But our two-and-a-half-hour phone call this past week proved that some ties are not easily broken. 

My former boss and I have a long history. Over fifty years ago, when I was just a teenager, she married my youth pastor and they began their ministry serving God together in our small-town church. With different personalities, she and I were never best friends; but we had mutual appreciation for each other and a shared love of God. We made many good memories before they left our church and started a new church of their own. 

When I was looking for a job more than twenty years later, God graciously steered me to apply for a job at our local hospital . . . only to discover that my new boss would be my former youth pastor’s wife. Despite the necessary adjustments to our new roles, we worked well together and were able to share more than just work life with each other. Six years later when I returned to my favorite job as a fulltime homemaker, we parted on good terms and went back to living separate lives. 

But when we talked on the phone last week, it seemed as if no time at all had passed since our last conversation. I’ve experienced this before with other Christian friends, so I know that this is a result of the grace of God. Jesus told his disciples in Matthew 18:20, “For where two or three have gathered in My name, I am there in their midst.” And I have seen this happen many times. Shared beliefs invite the presence of the Holy Spirit, who binds God’s people together despite distance or lapse of time.  

I don’t know how long it will be before my friend and I will speak again. We both live full lives and continue to serve God in separate towns as he gives us opportunities. But I do know that whether we ever speak again or see each other again on this earth, we will spend eternity together in God’s presence because we have both chosen to follow Jesus while living here. 

I’m reminded of the first verse of a hymn from my childhood and early adult life that we always sang each month at the end of a Sunday service that included taking communion. We would join hands across the aisles and celebrate the tie that binds all Christians together . . . the love we share for God and for each other. It truly is a little bit of heaven on earth! And that’s a tie that will never be broken, but will carry over into eternity.