Marriage, not gown, is worth most care
One of the chores of working in the newsroom is picking up an infinite number of faxes. The printed and even blank pages multiply at a greater rate than rabbits and leave the most-hardened anti-environmentalists wondering if God’s trees can hold out much longer.
Granted, every business that still maintains a fax machine faces this problem, but newspapers likely get double the number. Believe it or not, we sometimes receive even triple copies of the same fax. We keep a number of recycling boxes scattered around the newsroom, shuffling the mundane and useless blathering bits of compressed bark into the boxes, trying to save the trees. Topics run the gamut from politicians pushing their latest policies, opinions and charges that that the other guy is lying, to governmental agencies pushing wristbands and refrigerator magnets, to Wall Street wonks hawking "undervalued stocks."
Still, every once in a while a headline catches your eye, such as this one: "Your Marriage May Not Last Forever but Your Wedding Gown Could!"
Now, there’s an optimistic outlook on the state of matrimony in America.
The fax had a New York dateline and reads, in part:
"Wedding Season has arrived and hopefully brought along all that is good, enjoyable, and most precious of all, a light colored wedding gown. A lovely and ever so delicate symbol of ever-lasting love, the wedding gown has become a treasured heirloom. As such one would hope that it will be expertly cleaned and preserved, and one day again worn by a family member."
The release notes, "the reality is that once the excitement of the Big Day has passed and upon returning from the honeymoon, that the gown will be tossed underneath the bed, hung in a closet or even worse wrapped in plastic."
There are "multi-faceted" steps that need to be taken to preserve the gown, the expert on dry cleaning explains. "So keep in mind, that no matter how long or short your marriage lasts, your gown may last forever!"
Admittedly, this pastor/journalist is a bit touchy when it comes to the subject of taking wedding vows seriously. There is, after all, a chapter in my own life where the vows were treated unwisely; in fact, failed marriages run rampant in my family. In my own case, it was an impetuous step taken into a first marriage with hopes that it would straighten out the messed up life of a 20-year-old — a crooked road that would eventually be straightened by the Holy Spirit, assisted by a woman’s true love.
I've spent more than half of my life with Donna, and yet I can not envision ever having truly lived without her. We met in the fall of 1978, and we just celebrated 25 years of marriage.
We each got new rings as part of celebrating the occasion. I joke with friends and colleagues, saying excitedly, "After 50 years with the company, I’ll get a watch!"
If God graces us with that bit of longevity in life, I’ll get that watch ... and she can have whatever "sparkly" she wants to mark that occasion.
She deserves it, and I’ll flip a million burgers to foot the bill. After all, Jesus saved my soul, but she saved my life.
When I share my story on spiritual retreats or in worship services, the part where my story becomes our story is tough to get through. As soon as I say, "It was then that I met Donna and I fell incredibly in love with her ...," the throat tightens, the tears emerge from the corners of my eyes, and I reach for the water glass.
I sometimes wonder if all men feel that way about their wives, or if it's just a special gift that God gave me. It is a gift for which there are no words, no adequate expression, nor even a rational explanation.
Perhaps it's because she came into my life when it was dark and formless, as when God's Spirit hovered over the earth in the Genesis story. When Donna's spirit came near mine, surely God said, "let there be light in Buzz's heart."
And there was.
And it was good.
And my love for her grows stronger every day.
I called and asked her where the wedding gown is stored.
"Why? You can’t fit in it," she said.
I love my wife.
Grace and peace ...
Granted, every business that still maintains a fax machine faces this problem, but newspapers likely get double the number. Believe it or not, we sometimes receive even triple copies of the same fax. We keep a number of recycling boxes scattered around the newsroom, shuffling the mundane and useless blathering bits of compressed bark into the boxes, trying to save the trees. Topics run the gamut from politicians pushing their latest policies, opinions and charges that that the other guy is lying, to governmental agencies pushing wristbands and refrigerator magnets, to Wall Street wonks hawking "undervalued stocks."
Still, every once in a while a headline catches your eye, such as this one: "Your Marriage May Not Last Forever but Your Wedding Gown Could!"
Now, there’s an optimistic outlook on the state of matrimony in America.
The fax had a New York dateline and reads, in part:
"Wedding Season has arrived and hopefully brought along all that is good, enjoyable, and most precious of all, a light colored wedding gown. A lovely and ever so delicate symbol of ever-lasting love, the wedding gown has become a treasured heirloom. As such one would hope that it will be expertly cleaned and preserved, and one day again worn by a family member."
The release notes, "the reality is that once the excitement of the Big Day has passed and upon returning from the honeymoon, that the gown will be tossed underneath the bed, hung in a closet or even worse wrapped in plastic."
There are "multi-faceted" steps that need to be taken to preserve the gown, the expert on dry cleaning explains. "So keep in mind, that no matter how long or short your marriage lasts, your gown may last forever!"
Admittedly, this pastor/journalist is a bit touchy when it comes to the subject of taking wedding vows seriously. There is, after all, a chapter in my own life where the vows were treated unwisely; in fact, failed marriages run rampant in my family. In my own case, it was an impetuous step taken into a first marriage with hopes that it would straighten out the messed up life of a 20-year-old — a crooked road that would eventually be straightened by the Holy Spirit, assisted by a woman’s true love.
I've spent more than half of my life with Donna, and yet I can not envision ever having truly lived without her. We met in the fall of 1978, and we just celebrated 25 years of marriage.
We each got new rings as part of celebrating the occasion. I joke with friends and colleagues, saying excitedly, "After 50 years with the company, I’ll get a watch!"
If God graces us with that bit of longevity in life, I’ll get that watch ... and she can have whatever "sparkly" she wants to mark that occasion.
She deserves it, and I’ll flip a million burgers to foot the bill. After all, Jesus saved my soul, but she saved my life.
When I share my story on spiritual retreats or in worship services, the part where my story becomes our story is tough to get through. As soon as I say, "It was then that I met Donna and I fell incredibly in love with her ...," the throat tightens, the tears emerge from the corners of my eyes, and I reach for the water glass.
I sometimes wonder if all men feel that way about their wives, or if it's just a special gift that God gave me. It is a gift for which there are no words, no adequate expression, nor even a rational explanation.
Perhaps it's because she came into my life when it was dark and formless, as when God's Spirit hovered over the earth in the Genesis story. When Donna's spirit came near mine, surely God said, "let there be light in Buzz's heart."
And there was.
And it was good.
And my love for her grows stronger every day.
I called and asked her where the wedding gown is stored.
"Why? You can’t fit in it," she said.
I love my wife.
Grace and peace ...
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