A Love That’s True

No marriage is without its stress points. Whether it’s something internal between husband and wife or something external that life throws at both of them, hard times can either make or break a relationship.

Broken HeartStatistics show, for example, that having a bankruptcy can cause a couple to split up. The birth of a special needs child can do it, too, or in-law problems, a critical spouse, or chronic health issues. And when life-and-death cancer hits, anything can happen.

A couple could blame each other for the dilemma they’re in. They might argue about it and berate each other, harming their relationship. But they could also weather the storm together, clinging to one another tighter than ever.

Mary and Bervin are currently traveling through one of those life-and-death crises, each of them exposed to a mountain of stress and sadness. Cancer has a way of doing that to people. But everything I’ve observed between the two of them points to increasing togetherness rather than a cracking of their marriage bond.

The day of Mary’s surgery (Monday), as four of us said goodbye, she went around the circle giving each of us a strong hug. Coming to Bervin, she passed him by. “I’m saving the best for last,” she said, looking at him. Then after hugging the rest of us, she went back to him and held on tight.

What part does God play in the traumas that come to all married couples? For one thing, he doesn’t waste even one of these experiences. Rough patches in marriage are particularly useful from his point of view, since they tend to polish off our rough edges and make couples look to him for help. At least that’s his hope.

Heading to surgeryGod’s intention is that when trouble comes, wives and husbands will race to put supportive arms around each other, satisfying the other one’s need without concern for their own. By doing so they demonstrate humility, servanthood, and true love, which pleases both their partner and the God who bonded them in marriage. It also primes the pump for a next time, when the one who’s been given the most, eagerly becomes the giver.

Traditional (old-fashioned) wedding vows include this concluding statement: “What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.” (Mark 10:9) In other words, nothing of human origin should be allowed to pull them apart. When circumstances threaten to do that, even if it’s a disease, God hopes husband and wife will cling instead of crumble, coming out the other side stronger than ever.

That’s exactly what’s happening with Mary and Bervin. Mary’s life will never be the same now that cancer has come, and their marriage won’t be the same either. But that’s ok, because it’s going to be better than ever.

“Love… endures through every circumstance.” (1 Corinthians 13:7)

Mary’s prayer requests:

  1. For a peaceful night after a day of difficulty
  2. For pain meds to work without causing nausea
  3. For thorough healing of Mary’s insides
  4. For stamina to meet physical demands

This is goodbye. (…written by Jack)

Syd and JackTonight my girlfriend Sydney came over to spend the evening with me, and we had a lovely, peaceful time napping together on the floor. I refer to her as my girlfriend, though in reality she’s my cousin. But with dogs, it’s ok to date your cousin.

Sydney and I go back over 10 years. Although I’ve “robbed the cradle” in choosing her for my closest canine relationship, we would both be considered old. Syd is 12, and I’ll turn 11 in October.

Romping togetherJust like any couple, we enjoy doing things together, and we also love the same treats. We agree on our very favorite thing, too: running around at the beach. Both of us have perfected happy dances in the sand, rolling upsidedown in an effort to become part of the landscape. Neither of us mind getting sand up our noses or in our eyes, and when we do the dance at the same time, it’s absolute magic.

Although every day with Sydney is special, tonight was extra-special. Sydney had just had a bath and arrived in my living room still wet. I love it when she smells like wet dog, and the black waves in her shiny coat were absolutely fetching. But then something terrible happened at the end of our evening together. Sydney and I had to say goodbye…. probably for good.

Tomorrow morning my love is moving to Arkansas, and I may never see her again. Her family says that all the changes about to happen to her will be stressful and might put her at risk for an early demise. This upset both of us, but we didn’t let it spoil our last evening together.

Jackie Boy (2)I chose an appropriate going away gift for her, something I knew she would love: a big box of dog bones. I also made a card expressing my love and included a picture so she can look at me and know I’m missing her, too.

Saying goodbye is rough.

I guess that’s true for humans, too. Life will always be full of goodbyes, at least until we all end up in Paradise. I fully intend to go there, and I know Sydney does, too. Both of us have been taught that the God who made us looks into our hearts, so he knows the two of us are reflections of his unshakeable, unconditional love.

SydThough I may never dance at the beach with my girlfriend again, I know God will always be watching over both of us just as he watches over the humans we love. I also know that when Syd and I think we can’t take any more of being separated, God will comfort us. Actually, I don’t think he likes goodbyes any more than we do.

Sydney, I’ll always love you.

Sad Jack“For the sake of my…. friend, I will say, ‘May you have peace’.” (Psalm 122:8)

The Price of Commitment

Sundays aren’t as upsetting as they used to be. Watching a husband put his arm around his wife or share a hymnal doesn’t bring tears like it did a year ago, and last Sunday I even felt sincere delight watching the senior couple directly in front of me. As the congregation sang a rousing hymn, they not only shared the hymnal, they shared something else.

The husband, as he sang, occasionally glanced at his wife’s face. Every so often she looked up at him, and they shared a knowing smile. Part of the hymn they sang from memory, to each other, face-to-face. Once he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. As he did, she leaned toward him slightly, just enough to communicate acceptance and love.

On the hymn’s 3rd verse, these two 70-somethings standing side-by-side, began slowly swaying together, left and right, to the hymn’s cadence. It was so subtle an observer glancing at the congregation wouldn’t have noticed, but since they were right in front of me, I did. And it was charming.

Two things popped into my head: (1) gratitude that I wasn’t crying while witnessing this marital harmony, and (2) when one of them dies, the other will suffer. But that’s the natural consequence of a good marriage. When the time comes, even though tears will flow, the one left behind won’t wish away the years they had together to spare the pain of separation when it ends.

Most of life’s valuable commitments put us at risk for sadness, even sharp, agonizing pain: a happy marriage faces eventual widowhood and loneliness; parenthood brings incredible joy but also the misery of saying goodbye … over and over again; even taking on a family pet includes knowing we’ll one day have to bury it. Our world is full of opportunities to commit, each one involving a sacrifice, a risk, or both.

All except one.

The most important commitment any of us can ever make includes no price to pay at the end of it, and that’s our commitment to Christ. The risk and sacrifice for the greatest treasure on earth was all made by him, not us. Why he would ever agree to do what he did in order to get us is beyond figuring out. With all our imperfections and sins, we know we’re not worth the sacrifice he had to make, but apparently he thought we were. Mindboggling.

Unlike at the end of our human commitments, most of which finish with a goodbye, the final result of a commitment to Christ is an eternal hello and a life so unique and fresh we don’t now have the ability to picture it. The commitments of this world all come to an end, but signing on with Jesus is a forever partnership.

This morning, back in church, I scanned the congregation for the loving couple I’d seen the week before, but they weren’t there. When I asked, I learned they’d gone on a long trip to Europe. A second honeymoon? No, just making the most of an ongoing commitment to one another.

“At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now! The old life is gone; a new life has begun! (2 Corinthians 5:16-17)