Thirty Something

That doesn't refer to our ages, but rather to years of marriage. Of course now I guess we could start counting over, since John and I were remarried tonight at a very nice church service, along with three other couples.

It was actually kind of fun beforehand, thinking that with my sense of humor, what would he do if I kind of hesitated before saying my vows. Then, when it was time to actually do it, there was no comedy in my mind at all. Just like thirty something years ago, I knew I was making a very big commitment, a huge promise for a daily decision, and getting one in return.

Way back when John and I first took that walk together, we were told that there were actually six people taking that wedding march together. There's the bride she thinks she is, the bride he thinks she is, and the bride she really is; there's the groom he thinks he is, the groom she thinks he is, and the groom he really is. The important part of a marriage comes when you can get all six of those distinct personalities walking in the same direction and actually talking to each other. Some days that's easier than others, but waking up with commitment is essential.

Each time one of my sons was born I started praying for their future wives, that they would be worthy women, loving and faithful, loved and well treated in return. One of those sons has married, and every prayer I said for that union has been fulfilled. They just celebrated their fifth anniversary. The other two are still gathering my prayers for their unions. I hope when their marriages are thirty something, they can stand in front of an altar somewhere like we did tonight and hold hands, like we did, and repeat vows, meaning them more than they did all those many years ago, with the joys and trials they've shared holding them together like a foundation for the years ahead.

John is the ballast for my boat. I guess I'm the laughter in his stillness.