Need Refreshing?*

A few years ago, we were having a family reunion at my Dad’s place on the French Broad River. My sister called it “Cousins at the Cabin.” There were lots of cousins there.  We had watermelon, fresh picked berries, burgers, dogs, chips, baked beans, potato salad, and cobblers of all kinds.  We had made our own water slide with 100 feet of plastic sheeting, a hill, a garden hose, and a drop or two of dish soap. We were using some inner tubes to let people float the river for about a half mile where the river passes in front of the property. We put the humans and their giant rubber donuts in the water at the neighbor’s boat ramp and they climbed back out toting their tubes at my Dad’s place. We were transporting them in our old Suburban affectionately called “Bessie.” We threw the tubes on the roof rack and drove back to the take out point to reload and do it again. The water was cool and refreshing and the water was flowing at a lazy pace. It was delightful on a hot Summer day. When everyone finished floating and came back to the house to eat, we parked the car and closed the windows, because we never knew when a Summer pop up storm could come in East Tennessee.  An hour or two later we couldn’t find our dog, Sadie. She loves to run the property and lie in the water at the edge of the river to cool off. After several minutes of searching we decided to get Bessie to go look for her. We discovered that she had climbed into the back of the ‘burb when we were transporting the river-tubers and had fallen asleep, then she was locked in the very back where no one could see her.  We were very worried about her. She was lethargic and would not drink any water. My father, who had done some research with dogs early in his medical training, said that once dogs reach a certain point of dehydration, they will for some reason, refuse to drink water to rehydrate. So, the panic ensued and my wife was headed to the pet hospital, come #&!! or high water. Sadie was given a very expensive IV, they said the fact that she had been playing in the cool water had probably saved her life. Soon, she was, thankfully, back to normal. 

Sometimes I’m like Sadie when I’m spiritually dehydrated. After messing up and not acting like the One I belong to (i.e. sinning), for some reason I refuse to return to The Living Water. I identify as one who belongs to Jesus, but sometimes when I mess up I continue to go away from Him instead of seeking Him. He is the only One who can restore me spiritually and I, for some reason, don’t seek after Him and then I experience even more spiritual exhaustion. Sometimes I need others in my faith community to remind me to get back to Him for a spiritual IV.  In the Book of Acts, not long after Jesus had been crucified, resurrected and ascended to the Father, Peter and John had performed a miracle at the temple and restored a crippled man to health.  Many people were amazed at God’s work and ran to the place where the miracle happened. Peter took the opportunity to remind people to return to God and recognize Jesus as the Messiah who could save them. He also confronted them for disowning Jesus and denying His deity in front of Pontius Pilot by saying “Crucify Him!” Peter says,  “Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord, and that he may send the Christ, who has been appointed for you—even Jesus.” (Acts 3:19–20 NIV)  Why do we do that? Why do we refuse to come to Jesus when we are spiritually parched? I don’t know the answer to this question, but I am so thankful for God’s grace when He draws me back to Himself and He restores and refreshes my soul! Sometimes He even uses people in my faith community to remind me to get back to Jesus. Turn back to Him and be refreshed, my friends! 

Hang in there people! God is always glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all!

Magnolia, Kind and Good!*

My wife and I and two of our adult children and their spouses took a day trip to Chip and Joanna Gaines, Magnolia Table and Market in Waco, TX. We arrived and put our name in at the now famous restaurant and took the short drive to the Market to browse and enjoy the 2 hour wait. Fixer-upper fans from way back, we looked forward to our Silo pilgrimage. We strolled around, enjoyed some delicious Jo Jo’s Joe Joe coffee (not the real name, but maybe should be), found some post Christmas deals on a welcome mat and sweatshirt, enjoyed some great sweet tea, smartly packaged in a nostalgically branded mason jar with a sipping straw lid, for which we gladly paid $9 each plus tip.  It was surprisingly warm outside and crowded, just a couple of days after Christmas. We got our obligatory “selfies” at the iconic Silos and other photo ops. We did, in fact, enjoy our experience. We returned from Gainesney Land to the “Table” restaurant, just in time to get our text from the hostess stand and be seated. The service was exceptional. Three of our crew have food allergies, one is pretty significant, but our waitress was very cautious, courteous, and accommodating. One had ordered the white chili, but then realized it had too much dairy in it, so the waitress made another recommendation. On top of this, she carefully navigated the boundaries of those of us who were on the edge of hangry and quickly brought some biscuits and strawberry butter to calm the ATX travelers who were dangerously close to pushing the “mean” button and launching everyone into sibling and spousal defcon 3. Everything was so delicious. We thoroughly enjoyed our meal with lots of smiles and laughter. Our wait person even brought out a small complementary bowl of white chili and some spoons just to taste. It was very good. The burgers, chicken and biscuits, and chicken salad croissants, were great. The salad modified for our child who became vegan for health reasons was safe and tasted good! As we were cashing out, the waitress brought some salted caramel candy. My wife said, “where can I buy these” and she said at the shop attached to the restaurant, but it was already closed. So, she brought a few more of these delectable dulces to the table, “on the house.” This woman didn’t know us, yet she was so very kind and helpful.  Happy and full we headed back toward the Capital City. The service staff at Magnolia World was like a welcome magnet to us when we were hungry, needed some kind hospitality, and even some extra TLC. The sign on the wall that says, “Where everyone has a seat at the Table,” rang true.

In the early church the Apostle Paul was encouraging one of his young pastors and he was highlighting the Jesus-like attributes of God’s children that would show the church and the world that they belonged to Him. In this particular passage, Paul was talking about widows, but it could well apply to all of us who identify as those belonging to Christ.  He says, “She must be well respected by everyone because of the good she has done. Has she brought up her children well? Has she been kind to strangers and served other believers humbly? Has she helped those who are in trouble? Has she always been ready to do good?”(1 Timothy 5:10 NLT-SE) Now, I have no idea if our Magnolia Table waitress identified herself as a Jesus follower (I don’t think she was a widow or a mother either), but she certainly displayed some of these honorable Christ-like characteristics: kindness to strangers, humble service, always ready to do good… she served her tables well, helped us all avoid the possible embarrassments and regrets of hangry “acting out” and unwelcome comments said in haste.  She also modeled how to accommodate people who have unique needs with grace and thoughtfulness. We can be encouraged by this young lady to be kind, do good, stay humble and make a difference in the lives of those we encounter. 

Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all! 

P.S. Kudos Chip and Joanna Gaines for having such a wide-reaching impact with your Magnolia brand, which now, for us, represents kindness, humble accommodation and exceptional service. 

Holy Smoke Trust Jesus!*

 

“Holy Smoke'' pilots

It was finally time. The four kids were sleepy but excited. We were starting our drive to the “Happiest Place on Earth” from Chattanooga. Some of their friends had been to “Dizzy World” every year since before they were old enough to remember, but this was our first trip. Anita had done her homework well. She had figured out with the Disney Vacation rep how we could sleep all six of us, do the meal plan, and add a “park-hopper” pass without going too far over our budget. I, however, was still very anxious about this trip to this large kingdom built on a central Florida swamp. I worried about the taxes and tributes that King Mouse would extract for a few days of exhausting exploration of his kingdom with its elaborate magical facades, excellent rides, and exceptional dining places. Our early morning Tennessee start had us arriving at the Value Resort in time to drop our bags and go to Disney Springs to eat supper. The kids were wide-eyed but tired from the long drive. We got a reservation at the restaurant and walked around the shops of overpriced trinkets, t-shirts, hats, and memorabilia until our name was called. We received our menus and I had my first Disnoshock. I knew I couldn’t keep worrying about the cost of everything or I would make the trip miserable for everyone. So, we went back to the resort and slept restlessly anticipating our first day at the park. I woke up early, got some coffee, and did my quiet time by the pool before anyone else was up. In my journal I wrote something about not being able to relax on this trip. I was concerned about investing all this time and these resources in the hope for a good family memory and it being a flop. I was afraid of all the X’s: exhausted family, exorbitant costs, excessive heat, expensive meals… I needed to know that God was with us and that everything was going to be okay. In my skepticism and doubt I wrote in my journal, “God, If you are in this, I would like for You to write it in the sky.” Everyone awoke, ate some pop tarts, sunscreened our sun sensitive Eurowhite skin, and headed to the park. As we drove, the kids looked out the windows and said, “Mom, Dad! That airplane is writing something in the sky.” Reading each letter they slowly said, “T.R.U.S.T. J.E.S.U.S…” Then reading each word excitedly, “it says, Trust Jesus, Dad! It says, Trust Jesus!” So, with tears in my eyes, we made our way to the park. We had a wonderful 4 days in all 4 parks. Every time I began to worry, God’s miraculous sky message reminded me of Whose Kingdom we really belong to…

 
When Jesus began His ministry, in one of His first famous sermons, He spoke of those in His Kingdom. He reminded His followers not to worry, but to keep seeking relationship with God, trusting Him, and honoring Him with their actions. Jesus knows our propensity to act badly when we are anxious or fearful, its human nature. We take a defensive posture against everything and everyone, even good things and those trying to help us, because our brains go to self-protective “enemy mode.” We see others as a threat even when they aren’t. Worry is a relationship killer. It causes us not to treat others well, because we begin to focus only on our own success or survival and distrust everyone else, including God. Those connected to Jesus, would need to trust that He cares for them. He says, “So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”(Matthew 6:31–34 NIV) Even in King Mickey’s Tomorrowland, we had fun, because we could “Trust Jesus.” My oldest daughter would later learn to trust God in her own journey when she participated in the Disney College Program, living in Orlando by herself and working in Princess Fairytale Hall. She was “friends with” Cinderella, as well as, Pluto, Rafiki, even the Easter Bunny. Do not worry about tomorrow, it has enough worries of its own.

 
( I have since learned that the skywriting was the work of the “Holy Smoke'' pilots, two former crop dusters turned airplane evangelists. God had timed a Holy Smoke, Trust Jesus message perfectly for my family to see it we needed that day.)

Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all!

Beyond Understanding*

I parked, made my way into the hospital, got on the elevator, just like I had hundreds of times before. I typically try to get in the right frame of heart and mind to minister to those I’m going to see after fighting traffic, making dizzying circles in the parking deck looking for a place to park, trying to slide my oversized vehicle into the tiny little parking space, then trying not to scratch the car next to mine while squeezing my girth through the narrow door opening.  Often, as I walk, I pray in anticipation of seeing the patient, but this time was a little different. I felt a prompting to pray for God’s Shalom peace for a certain patient and her husband. I put on my mask and made my way to the elevator, and it became my prayer lift. There were some quiet moments in my vertical chapel until a bell interrupted the silence, and a pleasant automated voice said, “4th floor.” When I exited and walked down the hall, I wondered  if I could go into the room this time. Because of COVID risks, sometimes I could only wave through the glass, and make a praying hands gesture from the hallway to let the couple know I’m lifting them up before the throne of God. Sometimes this patient’s husband was able to come out and pray with me in the hall.  When I arrived that day just outside the room, two nurses were standing there, wide eyed, still in their masks, face shields, gloves, and plastic gowns. I looked in and saw the patient sleeping peacefully  in the bed and her husband hard asleep in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs.  I was praying another quick prayer, thanking God for His peace and was about to turn around to go see another patient, when one of the nurses asked me who I was.  I said I was their pastor. She looked me in the eyes with a very serious look and said, “did you just pray for them?” And I said, “yes, God had prompted me to pray while I was on the way up here.” She said, “I don’t usually talk about this, but she was very anxious, irritated, and agitated, and he was very empathetic with her discomfort, then instantly, just  a moment ago,  they inexplicably became completely relaxed and fell hard asleep. I have never seen anything like it.” These nurses had not administered any medication that would have calmed her like that, and they certainly would not have given anything to her husband, who was not a patient at the time… I remember getting chill bumps and thanking God for allowing me an up close glimpse of His Spirit miraculously pouring out His peace on two of those He loves! He had given them some much needed rest at a very stressful time in this hospital stay. God had not only seen their distress and relieved it, but He had invited some nurses and a pastor to witness Him at work giving some much needed Shalom to an uncomfortable, pain and stress fatigued couple.  He let us all know that He sees us and He cares. 

In the early church at Philippi, there was some unrest, irritation, and anxiety among some in the congregation. Paul was reminding the church family to pray for each other and themselves.  Paul tells them, “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.”(Philippians 4:6–7) I used to think this verse was written for us as individuals when we are anxious and needing peace, but it is written in the context of a close group of believers. He says, “hearts” and “minds,” plural, not just “heart” and “mind.”  There is a sense of “Us,” not just “me.”   Jesus sees us in our distress, invites us to join Him in His answer, and He shows up with just what is needed. He sends the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, and He arrives with a Shalom that is overwhelming. God had not only given peace to the couple at the hospital, His peace had impacted those believers in close proximity too.  

Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all! 

Almost "Reck'd Life*

Photo: GT Alumni Assoc

Not long after college graduation, I had the amazing privilege of working at the Georgia Institute of Technology as the Spirit Coordinator. Now, even though I had been called to ministry in High School, this was NOT that kind of Spirit Coordinator. It was school spirit, I was the cheer coach for the award winning Tech cheer squad, Buzz the nationally recognized mascot and faculty advisor for the Ramlin’ Reck Club. The students I got to work with were brilliant engineer types. When I was coaching, I needed a translator. You see, I was a liberal arts graduate, and they were electrical, mechanical, and all things technical, math, and science super smarties (who would graduate and make almost 6 figures even in the late 1980’s). I would give instruction and they would just stand and look at me. Then one of the girls on the squad, who was an English Major (yes at GT), would translate what I said into Tech-eze and they would say, “oh okay!” and quickly do what I had tried to ask. The ‘Reck Club students held charge of the School’s Mechanical Mascot, a 1930 Model A Sport Coupe called the Ramblin’ Reck. It had been donated to the school by my boss, Dean Dull, almost thirty years before. This glistening, gold painted, metal mascot was as popular as the award winning, and rambunctious Buzz the Yellow Jacket, appearing at school promo events and the weddings and celebrations of influential Georgia Tech alumni. Buzz, is a whole other story, once stealing the television network truck on the sideline with the camera operator holding on for dear life, and driving it down the track before being stopped, where he narrowly escaped being unmasked. There was a reason why the infamous bee earned his nickname, Buzz… apparently the young man who donned the original mascot suit a decade before would sometimes imbibe in some inhibition eliminating beverages before the game. The young men and ladies who wore the outfit in subsequent years were amazing athletes, sometimes losing 10 + pounds just sweating in the Atlanta heat while running around, crowd surfing, and involving themselves in all kinds of sideline mischief. Perhaps the incident that could have potentially been my greatest public faux pas during my time at Tech involved the Ramblin’ Reck. It was December and all the kids were exhausted from final exams and a grueling class load. So, those who would normally take the antique car to the Ford plant for repairs, were headed home for the holidays. So, yours truly, had to borrow a school van, and hitch the covered car carrier on the back. The Reck was not running at the time, so with no Reck Club or Cheerleader muscle to push it into the trailer, I had to use the tie down, hand winches to ratchet it up the ramp and into place.  As soon as I got the van and trailer onto interstate 75/85 in downtown Atlanta just past the Varsity, I knew there was trouble. The van sputtered and died, before I could get it to the next exit.  I was left there in the middle of 6 lanes of standstill holiday traffic and this was before cell phones were accessible to people on a Student Affairs coordinator’s budget. A police officer politely came to my door and screamed, “get this $#!) out of here!”  While I was trying to explain I needed him to radio a wrecker, Atlanta’s finest walked away, spewing over his shoulder, “I don’t care, get it out of here NOW!!” My only remedy was to leave the cursed van and vulnerable, but covered Reck sitting there, dodge the traffic, and pray neither me nor the Institute’s invaluable icon got hit, (though the school would probably not mourn for my loss like it would their beloved car). I climbed up the interstate’s hexagonal block walls, tried to find a pay phone, but ended up running several blocks back to the maintenance department and getting another van.  The 'Reck had been vandalized a few times in the past, once while it was in my hometown at Neyland Stadium, at the University of Tennessee, after GT had beaten the Vols. It apparently got a new unwanted orange paint job. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for another incident. There were Tech hating, Georgia Bulldog fans who would love to know that the 'Reck was sitting helplessly incapacitated in the middle of the interstate.  With the next van, I scotched the wheels, rolled the other van forward, and maneuvered the next van into position to hitch the trailer. I got the other van towed, and I finally got the Ramblin’ Model A to the Ford plant safely. I was young and so arrogant at the time, you would think that this incident would have humbled me a bit… nope. “Large and in charge,” I was destined for more humbling, until God got my attention and headed my life back toward him again. 

God The Father loves us too much to let us remain in our rebellion against Him. Scripture says that good fathers discipline the children they love. In Hebrews (12:7),  the Scriptures tell us to endure hardship as discipline. When we belong to Him and identify as one of His, He will allow things to happen to us to get our attention. He humbles, disciplines, corrects, and changes us.  God’s people, Israel, had turned away from God in their arrogance and God was getting their attention.  The prophet Jeremiah humbly asks, “I know, O LORD, that a man’s life is not his own; it is not for man to direct his steps.  Correct me, LORD, but only with justice— not in your anger, lest you reduce me to nothing.”(Jeremiah 10:23–24 NIV) When we are experiencing hardship, it is sometimes God's discipline, let it turn us toward Him to ask for His direction and correction.

Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all!

Big Balloon Ballyhoo!*

 

photo credit to rohrballoons.com

One of the churches where I served was having a Celebrate America Festival. We anticipated hundreds to show up for these events and we were typically overwhelmed at the number of celebrators. This happened on several acres of recreation land across the street from the church. We had games and hot dogs, cotton candy and popcorn, patriotic decorations and American flags, but we were really excited about having hot air balloon rides that year. We had hired the balloon company and sent the deposit months in advance and added them prominently to the publicity. They told us they would come a couple of hours early to set up the day of the festival.  When the day arrived for Celebrate America, two hours before, no balloon. We did not panic, these people were obviously professionals, we were confident they would get it all set up. Then an hour before, no hot air balloon. We were a little nervous, because we had advertised the balloon rides as a major attraction and counted on the balloon as additional advertising. It would make our festival more visible from the interstate and impact the number of people we had the chance to interact with.  But if the balloon with a giant basket below didn’t show, the spirits of the people who came to see it would fall like a lead zeppelin (not to be confused with a British rock band formed in the late 60’s).  If our big balloon ballyhoo was unrealized we could be considered untrustworthy in our advertising, just a lot of hot air about hot air balloon rides, which is not great for a church. We hoped to get to know some of these people who came to visit.   And we hoped to introduce them to Jesus as they became more curious, convinced, and convicted by God’s Spirit, if they didn’t already know Him.  So, thirty minutes before the crowds arrived, still no balloon. We panicked and prayed. We repeatedly tried calling the cell phone of the balloon pilot, but no answer. We were trying to come up with words of apology to the guests looking for balloon rides and then just before the event started, a large dually Ram truck showed up with a balloon and basket in the back. As we arrived, frowning and excitedly asking why they hadn’t arrived earlier as promised or answered our phone calls, the truck driver looked at us with surprise and said “We don’t know what you are talking about. We were just driving by your festival on the interstate and we were coming to ask you if we could offer balloon rides to your guests…” Sure enough the name on the side of the truck was not the company we had hired, but God had heard our prayers and sent some random balloon owner to drive his fabric and basket filled Ram by our event at just the right time. The non-dirigible airship, tethered by a strong rope to the Ram truck, went up and down in the softball field all afternoon and into the night to the delight of 100’s of our Celebrate America guests 3 or 4 at a time. We thanked them and sent them a check for their services.  

We were all surprised by this coincidence that was really a God-incident. We can get so worried about all the plans we make. When Jesus started his ministry, He told us to keep our focus on God first and not worry about all these things we get so worked up and anxious about. He tells us,  “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you. Therefore don’t worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6:33–34)God provides what we need, even hot air balloons occasionally. Interestingly, the truck didn’t come early to the festival and it wasn’t late either, it came just at the right time.  Jesus' half brother James reminds us, “Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up.” (James 4:10) We were humbled that day by the seeming evaporation of our big plans, but God lifted us back up with His miraculous provision… we were exhausted but walking on air… 

Hang in there people! God is glad to be with us! I’m praying for us all!

(not a pic from our event, but photo credit to rohrballoons.com)

How I Met Your Mother!*

 

How I met your mother. I had returned home “like a bad penny,” as the expression goes, but perhaps taking baby steps away from some of my stubborn bad habits and insatiable ego. After 7 years away from home (4 years of college, summers spent working camps around the Southeast, a half a year at the World’s Fair, another half at the Omni Hotel, and 2 years in the Student Affairs office at Georgia Tech), I boomeranged back to my parents home (lucky them) in Knoxville to get a Masters Degree in Communications at UT. Because my undergrad was in Sociology, the Communications Department Head said I would need some leveling classes in the communications department. That’s when I saw her. She had big 80’s strawberry blonde hair, beautiful big blue eyes that took your breath away and captured your heart, a cute little nose, and she gained some adorable freckles when she was kissed by the sun... AND she was usually with her best friend ... and when I say usually, I mean ALWAYS. These two coeds were attractive and effervescent “TV news aficionados,” who took every college class together. They were inseparable and talked incessantly. The University’s News Radio staff did their best to send the two of us out to get stories together, but there never seemed to be a good time to talk to her outside of feeding the news machine for ALL NEWS 850. The station was always hungry for stories twice an hour, all day, everyday. Finally, I saw my opportunity. I was sitting near the front of the class on the same row as my blonde news fox and her friend, not to be mistaken with Fox News and Friends, which would not be invented for several years. The lecture finished and I waited in my seat for these two ladies to stroll down the aisle. At a strategic moment, I stood up and slid between them. Anita, unaware that I was behind her, kept walking and talking. Without turning around she asked Amy if she were going to the movie that night (they were taking an elective class that included watching and evaluating classic movies). I said, “I thought you’d never ask!” to which Anita turned around, frowned, and said, “I’m not talking to you,” and continued her conversa- tion with Amy. But then, we were assigned by the Station Manager to go report on a story together, on the topic of “Communication in Marriage,” so I offered to drive us to the conference. Afterward, it happened to be about dinner time and we were near one of my favorite restaurants (Grady's of Regas Family fame), so I said, “are you hungry, I love this restaurant and I’m buying?” To which she said, “yes.” I was impressed with not only how much we had in common as we discussed our typical southern upbringing (both the good parts and dysfunction), shared family values, and faith roots, but also that she didn’t hesitate in asking me if I were going to eat the rest of my shoestring fries after she had already finished hers. I said I was happy to share mine, and she ate them all! (to her credit, the shoestring fries from this place were warm, golden, crispy, strips of potato deliciousness... the best in the world). That was it! I was in love! She was, as the school fight song “Rocky Top” says, “wild as a mink but sweet as soda pop.” However, I guess the stars in my eyes had prevented me from seeing the fraternity lavalier she was wearing. All I could do was wait and hope that this long distance relationship would eventually end as it did with many a “hometown honey” at a faraway school. Needless to say, that relationship ended and we began dating.

Our relationship was as intense as it was fast. We jumped in with both feet. I met her folks and she met mine. It wasn’t long until we were engaged. Perhaps it was too quick, because we ended up breaking our engagement. The breakup was painful, effusive and intense. We both landed in counseling separately, but with the same Christian counselor. This was maybe one of the best things that could have happened to us individually and as a couple to work through some of our “stuff.” I decided to finally quit running from God, accept my calling into ministry, and determined that I would go to seminary when I finished my masters degree. We didn’t talk with each other for weeks. With so much pain, I was sure the relationship was over. The counselor must have seen how deeply we still cared for each other in spite of the ways we had hurt each other, so he carefully suggested we meet with him together with some ground rules in place. I wasn’t sure, but with some trepidation, I agreed. As my son’s father-in-law would years later tell him, “A faint-hearted man never won a fair lady.” Our counselor helped us set up some healthy boundaries, so that the relationship would be given a fighting chance to make it this time. God worked in our hearts and the wedding was back on. We married, I finished my degree and we headed to Seminary in Texas. Thirty-two years, 4 kids, 1 grandkid, 7 cities, and 7 churches later, God has taught us that we are better together, the 3 of us, with Him at the center. The years still include some intense joy and effusive disagreements, and we are also still learning how to love each other well.

As one funny but truthful older and wiser friend said of her fifty year marriage, “we had 45 good years.” She says, “it wasn’t 5 bad years in a row, it was a day here, a week there, ten days back there, over the lifetime of the marriage.” “But overall,”she says, “it's a good relationship and I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

As the Divinely inspired writer of Proverbs says, “He who finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains

favor from the LORD.” (Proverbs 18:22 ESV)