TL4E

Hubby listening to someone
tell a story

Today I celebrate thirty-two years of marriage with a man I love more and more as time goes on. In a day when even TWO years seems the breaking-point for some, some folks marvel at our time together and wonder what our secret is, given all we've been through together.

The key word is together - it is not some great secret. We are best friends first, and while each of us has his or her own interests, many of them overlap and we can share them and enjoy each other in the sharing. We spend our spare time together. We agreed long ago that any lengthy social event that would separate us (especially overnight), even if it were to be touted as "good" - was not something that the person invited would attend. This has not been a sacrifice for us, but a happy choice, because it gives us more time with each other. That time is precious to us because there are so many mandatory things that demand our time (work, for example) that we treasure the opportunities we have to spend time with each other - even if it's sitting in a room saying nothing while each is doing something different on the computer.

Together we have faced so many things better than we would ever have done apart: for example, among other things, severe financial difficulty, early parenthood, and family-of-origin issues for both of us, not to mention the frustrations inherent in working with others (misunderstandings, people playing politics, bullying, fatigue). We support each other and gain strength from each other. We pray with and for each other. We put each other's needs before our own. We don't approach the relationship from the perspective, "What can I get out of this?" but rather, "What can I give?"

That's love. TL4E - True Love 4 Ever.

If there's a secret, it's that love is not about getting what you want, but giving what you dare not keep.

Happy anniversary, sweetheart.  ♥ 

Tell 'em again

I heard an old joke once that made me think, and then think some more.  

A couple who had been married for 25 years was watching a romantic scene on television when the wife became troubled.  

"What's wrong?" asked her husband.  

"You never tell me that you love me."  

"Well ... when I married you 25 years ago, did I tell you I loved you then?"  

"Of course you did."

"So... if I change my mind, I'll let you know."

A long time ago, we decided that we wouldn't be like that couple.  That we would tell each other - frequently - that we loved each other.  Tell ... and show.  Not with big expensive gifts or hiring violinists or a mariachi band to play at our table (apologies to musicians of all stripes for pairing those) but simply by reminding each other how precious each is to the other.  Because - let's face it - we forget.  Life happens, it gets in the way, and we forget.

Now that both of us are in recovery, and on this road of healing together, the assurances of love mean even more.  We have made special efforts to connect with each other so that someday, when the kids are living lives out there independent from us, we won't wonder who that person is across the breakfast table from us.  It will just keep getting better because it's been getting better ever since we first fell in love over 30 years ago.  If that sounds sappy, then I have only one thing to say :  GOOD.  Life here on earth is so very short, and it goes faster and faster as we get closer to the end.  Seizing the day is essential.  It doesn't matter if we told each other we loved each other yesterday.  We say it, and mean it, again today.  And all the todays.

One comedian said that he'd been told the secret to happiness in marriage.  He got it from his dad just before he got married, and it rescued a lot of situations for him where he was undecided as to what to do.  

Four words, said as the father gazed into his son's eyes.  

"Happy wife, happy life."  

Of course that's only half of the equation.  (Hint hint ladies.)  Seeking the happiness and pleasure of the other person, telling and showing love.  Simple, isn't it.  

So even if they've heard it before ... tell 'em again.

When what's bad is good

Well, we're home again and everyone is almost back to normal.  Except hubby, who had the procedure (see yesterday's post) as planned, though not on time.  

Part of his procedure resulted in him having a severe case of (what was it Bones said on Star Trek IV?  "acute upper post-prandial distension"??) er, uhm, otherwise known as "gas cramps."

The nurse who looked after hubby when he was coming off the sedative was very concerned that he get in the optimal position to relieve this pressure post haste, since it is very painful.  (I can attest - slightly different circumstances but the same pain...)

Yet in the hospital he could not seem to permit himself to do it, even as groggy as he was.  On the way home, with every pothole, every road repaired poorly, every crack in the pavement it seemed, he was in agony.  So when I got him home, my only instruction to him was to go to bed, lie on his side, and rest.  Which he did - for hours.  And (pardon my having a little sport here) every so often the sweet sibilant sounds of escaping air proceeded from those sweet lips that had never ever told a lie. In other words, it was "toot good to be true." 

Honestly, I never thought the sound of flatulence would sound so sweet to my ears than in the last few hours, since it means the reduction of pain and suffering for someone I love dearly.  That's the rare occasion when what's bad is good.


This is a good 24 hours.

Soon, all this will be a memory we can laugh heartily about.  Butt until then, I console myself (and him) with these words of wisdom:  "This too shall pass." 

It's Just Like Jesus

It's just like Jesus to take a tradition that everyone knew, and transform it into something new, something meaningful, something so far beyond what anybody anticipated.

The Passover meal (called the Seder) had finished. The Passover is all about mercy. It's all about God not giving us what we deserve - withholding His judgment from Israel.

Now, Jesus (the Jews call Him Yeshua) turns this simple Seder meal into something everyone there recognized instantly: a Jewish betrothal ceremony (a Brit). Who could have predicted that?

In a Brit, the man proposes marriage to the woman. She indicates her acceptance by drinking from the cup with him. God was making an invitation into a relationship: not based on the absence of judgment, but the presence of lavish love. It was revolutionary.

Have a look at this video which explains the connection.

In the ancient Hebrew tradition, too, it was customary for the groom and bride (so betrothed) to call each other husband and wife as soon as she said yes to his proposal of marriage, but not to consummate the marriage until after the groom had gone back home and built a room on his dad's property for him and his bride to live in.

Then when it was done, at any time of the day or night, he could come calling for her (she would be watching for him) - symbolically snatching her away from her parents' house to join him in a procession back to his father's house, and while assembled guests waited outside, the bride and groom would go inside their newly constructed home and consummate the marriage.

Afterward, they would come out and be the guests of honour at a feast, after which there would be up to a week of festivities at the father's house.

I don't need to draw a map. This, from the bread and wine straight through to the marriage supper and the seven days of celebration, is a perfect picture of God's original intention and His unfolding plan: the intimate relationship between Christ and His church, the promise of His coming, the rapture, and the marriage supper of the Lamb.

It shows the passionate desire of the heart of our God to enter into the most profound of relationships - a total union: a melding of spirit, soul, and eventually body that transcends all others.

And the price? Well, the video explains that so well : Jesus' dowry to purchase His bride was His blood... His life. It cost Him everything He had. And He paid it ...just so we could know Him, let Him into the deepest part of us, to keep ourselves only unto Him. So (starting now) He could be intimate with us.

That blows me away.

It's what I now think about whenever I take communion.