December 24-25, 1969

Nate and I were much like many other young couples. The holidays found us traveling to spend time with both sides of the newly-joined extended family. With our schools on Christmas break, we had plenty of time to clock the necessary miles and were looking forward to reconnecting with our folks and others.

We decided to spend Christmas Eve with Nate’s family and Christmas Day with mine, driving a large triangle with its sides measuring 137, 209, and 156 miles respectively. And we didn’t mind. Traveling along in his little VW gave us uninterrupted chat-time during which we dreamed out loud about our rosy future together.

As we drove, we talked about marriage “so far,” all 3½ weeks of it. Later, summarizing our conversation in my journal I wrote,

I’m amazed at how great an understanding Nate has of women and their needs, having had no sisters. He’s a psychological genius to me, especially in terms of my moods and responses. He always wants to see things from my side as well as his own, before making any decisions.

As the miles clicked away, I thanked Nate for working hard to understand me as a girl…. and also for the attitude of gratitude he championed whenever we were together. For example, since before we’d been married, he had thanked me for every single meal I’d made, whether it was a success or a failure. He thanked me for continuing to try at cooking and bought me two cook books in an effort to help.

He thanked me for cleaning the apartment – every time – even if I had only cleaned the bathroom sink. And he offered to share household chores, thanking me for letting him help.

He expressed appreciation when I did his laundry and thanked me for folding it. He thanked me for loving him and thanked me often for being willing to marry him.

All of this gratitude had established a sweet tone in our little home, and my natural response was to look for ways to thank him back. I often felt gratitude but wasn’t good at getting those thoughts out of my head and delivered to him. But he wasn’t keeping track.

As for me, I was sort of keeping track – at least enough to know Nate was way ahead of me. If ever there was someone looking out for the interests of another ahead of his own, it was him. And as we covered those 500 miles over Christmas, I realized how truly fortunate I was to have him for my husband.

In my heart I knew it was God who was behind the whole thing, guiding me to finally give my heart to Nate many months ago and then to say yes to his proposal. And I needed to thank Him for that every single day.

“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.” (Psalm 118:29)