1 Corinthians 13:4-7: Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

The vows we made at the altar on September 26, 1964 remained with us throughout our marriage. As we stood there with our entire life ahead of us, we had no idea what it would bring. The vows we spoke went something like this.

“I take you to be my lawfully wedded (husband/wife), to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

We knew that this knew adventure wasn’t going to be a piece of cake, even though our wedding cake was a good start. We didn’t know we would experience times of adjustment and compromise. We didn’t know that a tube of toothpaste could cause our first argument. That is after the deer incident on our honeymoon. We didn’t know that we would go through difficult days, wondering if there would be enough to live on. There would be times when we would get angry over silly things. We didn’t know that we would experience poverty, wealth, disappointments, job changes, providing for three children. If we had known all those things, we may never have stood before God to take those vows in the first place.

We experienced the death of both of our fathers, early in our marriage. We had the opportunity to take each of our mothers into our home during their aging difficulties. We experienced sickness and health – not only our own, but those of our children. Many trips to the ER in those early years. We became regular visitors. My husband took his sister down the aisle for her own wedding. It was then that he realized the weight of his grief for his father.

Early in our marriage, when the kids were all little, I thought I was going to lose my husband. His heart was racing. He felt that something was off, so I called the doctor, who came to the house. Believe it or not, they actually did that in the old days. The doc determined that it was just an anxiety attack and put him on tranquilizers. In those moments before the doctor arrived, I sat with him, and we prayed the Lord’s Prayer together. I truly thought he was going to die. I had no idea how I was going to raise three children without him.

There were other incidents when I thought he would be leaving this world. When he experienced tachycardia and drove himself to the hospital. He was living in Minnesota while I was preparing a move from Wisconsin. A call from the hospital encouraged me to get to Minnesota as soon as possible because my husband was at death’s door. It turned out to be a hyperactive thyroid which was treatable. He called me from the hospital, and we prayed The Lord’s Prayer and asked that God’s will be done . . . again.

In our many years together, sickness and health seemed to be a part of it. There were times when we were full of vigor and could move mountains – or at least mole hills. Paul once hoisted a huge cross to place at the front of our church. He reached the top of the ladder and prayed for the strength to be able to actually accomplish the task. His prayer was answered. He was a leader in our church Pioneer group of boys. This would take him to his sanctuary – the woods. They went on snipe hunts and told tales to young lads who would never forget them. His adventures out west had him going through the mountains on horseback and living under the stars. Those trips were part of photographing beautiful advertising for his clients. He became an environmental naturalist as one of his many jobs. He chiseled away at a chunk of wood and created masterpieces of art. He also re-enacted an artist who went along on early explorations of America.

As time went on, both of us began to lose our vigor and strength. Prostate Cancer would enter the picture somewhere later on and require multiple days of radiation therapy. Again we prayed. There was a small stroke, macular degeneration and of course the small stuff that went along with it all. When it appeared that all was well, we prayed again to thank God for being with us once more.

I know we are to surrender all our cares to God. I realize that we can only muddle through on our own. God is in control of everything, but during those times of crisis, it seems even more difficult to give in. The final surrender will come when life ends. In the meantime, we continue to pray. I will not discount a miracle, but I have the comfort of knowing that life never really ends for us. God has made that possible through His own dear Son. Letting go does not mean giving up. It does mean relinquishing control to the One who has this. Saying the Lord’s Prayer is good too.

Next time will be about the funny things we did together and continue to laugh about.