Porch #176 🌹🥀 1 milestone I'm embracing & another that's tinged with a bit of dread
49 years of doing life with someone you love is something worth celebrating. But meanwhile, 70 years looks like a stranger I never thought I'd have to meet.
yes, you’ll find a few verbal glitches and stumbles as you listen, but I know you’ll hear my heart anyway
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I think it’d be fair to say that I’ve got some rather big confusing emotions going on.
Today we’re celebrating almost half a century of marriage. 49 years. To say I can’t believe it would be an understatement. It truly seems like not all that long ago the skinny 16 year old guy with the long strawberry blond hair from Ohio met the 16 year old, frizzy haired, brown-eyed girl from New Jersey at a Christian camp in upstate New York.
A few years later, they knew they simply couldn’t do life apart any more and off they went to the altar. She hadn’t even hit her 21st birthday when they said their ‘I do’s’.
Trust me, it hasn't always been a stroll in the park. Like most lifelong couples, these decades have been an ongoing unfolding, three steps forward, a half step or two back, on repeat. We’ve traveled up high and lofty hills and through valleys deep and treacherous. There have been seasons of endless tears that flowed like rivers ... and others where beautiful dreams kept on coming true.
I’ve grown to love, appreciate, and depend on this man with a strongly intense depth of warmth and trust that I never dreamed possible when we pledged our vows way back in ‘76. Even though our extrovert / introvert personalities are as different as night is from day, our deepening personal faith in Christ has become rock solid and has birthed strongly held core values that are nearly identical.
An interesting dynamic for sure.
We’ve learned much through the daily grind, the easy laughter, the lousy communication, the random hugs. Countless miles of beach walks, searing woundedness, the surprising glories, and disappointments that crept in unannounced. The stupid decisions, endless prayers, the awful illnesses, the way we can aggravate each other. The minor frustrations, victories celebrated, the heartache of steady grief. The peaceful evenings by the fire, the bone-headed misunderstandings, and the sheer delight of a steady flame of a Christ-infused love that has conquered all that’s stood in her way.
And oh, the parenting. The grandparenting. And soon to be great-grandparenting.
Fast forward and the years have vanished like a foggy morning. Poof. They’re gone. And here we are today. The truth is that any marital joys we celebrate have been born out of seasons of intense crisis and purposeful changes of heart and behavior along the way.
Only God. Only His grace. Only His mercy.
Every once in awhile, I flip a few pages on the wall calendar, and take a quick, furtive glance at August 27th. She’s wearing my name. And the big 70 jumps right out at me with a force that demands to be reckoned with.
I hear the traumatic whisper of my mother’s pain-wearied voice quietly say, ‘don’t get old, Linda.’ And while not a trace of self-pity ever showed up in her DNA, wisps of anxiety certainly have been embedded in mine. Journeying with her during her final years on God’s green earth, the memories of her fragile earthly body wracked with disabling pain has left an indelible mark on my soul.
It remains a scar sometimes tender to the touch … a daughter's sad memories that will probably come to call for the rest of my days. The emotional exhaustion and ever-lurking anxiety of that season, a pervasive sense of helplessness over my inability to get her the pain relief she required, lament over the continued suffering she so valiently tried to hide, her steadfast faith in Jesus right until her final breath.
So … I guess it’s no big surprise that I can’t help but wonder what the Lord has for us around the next bend.
Because while 49 is something worth celebrating, 70 looks like a stranger I really don’t want to meet. I wouldn’t say I’m worried. But I can’t say I’m jumping up and down for joy at the prospect of this next leg of the journey.
And while I can’t wait to meet Jesus face to face, the prospect of turning 70’s corner is shaking me up a bit more than I’d like to admit.
My body is keeping the score, and even as I am devoted to living my life well and focusing on the work the Lord's given me to do and doing my best to love my family from afar, these joints are aching a bit more with every passing month. My recall of names and random details is sometimes laughable. My dermatologist reminds me how outrageously high my risk of melanoma is.
And if I ask my husband to crank up the volume on the TV one more time, I’m sure we’ll both go completely round the bend.
Over time, Julian of Norwich’s (c. 1343-1416) famous words, ‘all shall be well,’ have become my own. And even as I continue to speak these four words to others, they ricochet right back to my own heart. And in the process they join forces with these tenderly powerful words of Jesus which have become the breath I breathe -
Peace I leave with you; My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
- John 14:27
And Paul’s insightful admonitions which reel back all those potential doom and gloom storylines -
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus … Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things … And the God of peace will be with you.
- Philippians 4:4-8
And that line in the Psalms that became mom’s very lifeline -
Thou art my God. My times are in Thy hand.
- Psalm 31:14-15
The Spirit whispers tenderly, reminding me for the millionth time that He’s already numbered my days and has carefully designed each detail of the rest of my story. There’s no need to panic at the slightest twinge or waste valuable time and energy speculating on untold worst-case scenarios. Because when all is said and done, I truly believe that His lovingkindness is better than life and yes, all shall be well.
Linda
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Well...Linda. There are "porches" that I think, "I'm not a woman and that is not me." Then I read one like this and say, "Has she been in my head?" :) This June, #52 will come, Lord willing. NO, that is not my age but my time with my lifelong partner. This past October (or should I say this coming October) I turned 72 (or that could be I turn 73). Joints hurt more now. The eagerness of youth is now paying the price in old age in bones and joints that creak and moan (or is that me moaning?). My days in the sun are long gone because of spots of pre-cancer being frozen. (If it is frozen why does it burn?) :) But you know what? I wouldn't trade one moment of my life and the good memories I have. I would hand off the bad ones though. I have a saying my youngest daughter made into a plaque: "Life is an adventure...Enjoy the ride." May you enjoy both #49 (and more) and #70 (and more). One more thing: getting old is not for the faint of heart.
Oh, Linda, I hear your heart singing the same words that echo in my heart. Joy and trepidation, gratitude and ‘what the heck’, and so many more contradictory feelings. Sometimes I have to remind myself that feelings lie. The truth, the real, real, truth we know is our claim and victory. The truth that has brought us this far and will carry us home. Thank you for your honest, transparent words straight from your heart.