In yesterday’s post I left you sitting in the back seat of our wedding getaway car listening to Nate’s surprise over the well-appointed gas station bathroom. We had changed out of our wedding clothes so as not to be conspicuous in the airport and were ready to focus on the task at hand: ditching the posse chasing us with a desire to punctuate our wedding night with pranks.

Our driver, John, headed for O’Hare with a line of cars hot on our trail and pulled up to the departure curb seconds ahead of them. Nate and I grabbed hands and bolted from the car into the crowded airport, hoping those in pursuit wouldn’t find out we weren’t actually flying anywhere.

Zig-zagging through mobs of travelers that Thanksgiving weekend, we darted into a gift shop and crouched behind a long display case, ignoring the stares of shoppers. Never mind that the case was glass on all 4 sides; it was the best we could do. It worked like a charm, though, because through the glass we got a glimpse of our pursuers running by, heading for the nearest gates. (No TSA to stop them in 1969.)

As soon as they passed our hiding place, we darted from the gift shop and ran back toward the street, crossing our fingers that John would just be completing his drive around the airport loop as we got there. Ideally we hoped to jump into his still-moving vehicle before our parade of pursuers saw us.

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This memory of our post-wedding chase put a smile on my face last weekend as Nate’s and my anniversary date passed without him, once again. On our wedding day we were both 24 years old, and all was right with the world. Yet even during our romp through the airport, we were half-giggling and half-fearing. If our pursuers found us, would they really stick like glue all night? Might our marriage get off to a rocky start  because of whatever pranks they would pull?

That same conflict of feelings, giggling while fearing, reoccurred more than once in our 40 years together, not during any chase scenes but in everyday life. When threatening circumstances appeared, we tried to:

• laugh, though nervous
• smile, though anxious
• giggle, though fearful

Actually, beneath those cheery exteriors, we might have been downright terrified, and God never wanted that. He wants all of us genuinely laughing, smiling, and giggling while letting him handle our nervousness, anxiety, and fear. But since our nature is to nurture the negatives and play down the positives, it takes willful determination on our part to follow his directive. When we do, though, our lives will be characterized by lots of joy.

As for Nate and I, all that nervousness was for naught. John was waiting at the airport curb, our pranksters never found us, and we giggled (without fear) all the way back to The Drake, where we had a short but very sweet honeymoon.

“Anxiety weighs down the heart.” (Proverbs 12:25)