I have been married for 25 years today. A quarter of a century. The big 2-5. Three years longer than I lived unmarried.
I wish I could say that we were one of those couples that always did it right… communicated… never fought…sailed through life. How boring would that be? And so not true.
We have definitely had our share of…um….issues. We even separated for almost a year after three short, turbulent years of marriage.
We have discussed what prompted us to get back together when we really had no reason to. No children, no property other than the stuff in a rented townhouse that was neatly divided. It was all wrapped up. Done deal. Paperwork signed. Just needed to be filed.
So, what happened next is the true story of a marriage that has lasted 25 years. Not sure how it happened, but I found myself at his church one morning. I grew up in the Episcopal Church, he grew up in the Southern Baptist Church. We were married in my church.
The pastor at his church was new. He already knew that Russell and I were separated. He pulled me aside after church and told me he wanted me to call and make an appointment to see him.
No Freakin’ Way was I going to do that.
He persisted. I ended up making an appointment with him. To this day, he says that for the first time ever, he went into a counseling situation thinking, “this is not going to work.”
He said I was the toughest case he had ever seen.
Not so much my God…I wasn’t too tough for Him. It really was the praying of faithful saints that changed me. That and God, of course.
Long story short…after I came to know Him and love Him and was even baptized by immersion, we tore up those papers.
Hasn’t been smooth sailing by any means. But we still rely on the One True God. Every single day.
Seems to be working.
Happy Anniversary, S.B. I do love you. Still.