The Mystery of Marriage

I picked The Mystery of Marriage up at least ten years ago while on vacation in the mountains of Tennessee. I had never read anything by Mike Mason. The book was more of an afterthought in that the title was interesting and the price was discounted.

My general practice during mountain vacations is to buy enough books to provide reading material for six months. I scan them all when I get back to my cabin and pick one or two to begin immediately. Mason's book hooked me quickly and became something I literally had trouble putting down.

Maybe the most startling fact about Mystery is that Mike wrote the book BEFORE he married. Considering the content of the book, I find that amazing.

I've used this book in premarital counseling with every couple I've worked with over the last decade. The book is ideal for people about to get married. But don't let that idea hinder you if you've been married for a while. I was a good ten years into married life when I picked it up and I benefited immensely.

When I talk with couples I recommend they read at least one good book on marriage every year. I have no idea how many have actually taken me up on that suggestion. But if I could give every couple only one book, this would be the one.

Life at 40

Recently I celebrated my 40th birthday. I’m ancient to my children and just a babe to the back row pew packers at my church. My children can’t believe my elementary years were survivable without cable TV. But cable didn’t get to my street until I was in fifth grade. And I lived in town.

The senior adults from church scoff at my attempt to make myself seem old. They “one up” me big time when they start talking about life before interstates, jumping on trains to go to the city, going down to the spring to get wash water, and receiving fruit for Christmas. I can’t compete with that. I may be old but I was born in a hospital.

So “old” is relative. And whether you think I’m old or not, I have noticed a few things about life at the beginning of the fourth decade:

1. I would not go back for anything. Life on the verge of 20 had its advantages, but life pushing 40 is MUCH better.

2. You don’t know what you don’t know. IF anyone was trying to tell me, back in my twenties, the things I would need to know, I wasn’t wise enough to listen. I had more energy than the sun, a beautiful young wife, and the wonders of the world were mine for the taking. These days I know energy is not an unlimited resource, my wife is still beautiful, and I’ve pretty much given up on the wonders of the world. Most days I’d settle for wonder bread.

3. The days are getting shorter. Either that, or time is speeding up. I don’t even buy desk calendars anymore. I got to the point that when I did look at my calendar three months had passed, then I felt bad for being so sluggish. Sometimes it’s like I’ve slipped into a mini-coma, I wake up in the morning thinking about cutting the yard, then I realize the yard I had in mind was two houses and six years ago. It reminds me of the time my grandfather started talking about his friends, I thought they lived down the street, but grandma told me they’d been dead for years. I’m sure it’s a time warp thingy.

4. The world is getting smaller. When I was 21 all I wanted to do was take my wife by the hand and romp the world. Through the years I’ve been blessed to live in a few nice places and see a good portion of it. But I’m telling you the truth; today my world is not much bigger than the farm I live on. I’m laser focused on enjoying my wife, raising our children, and watching in wonder as our family develops. This is my world. Everything else is on the news.

5. I’m becoming agreeable. There’s just no need to fight some battles. The lines at Wal-mart are always going to be long and slow. Self-checkout is a satanic conspiracy that will eventually lead to us (customers) unloading the trucks on the back dock...and liking it. My doctors are looking younger and younger. I swear my attorney just graduated high school. I can’t figure out any of the new video games. Plus, my fingers don’t work that fast anymore, if they ever did at all. And how bout this, the other day I walked into a waiting room and a college age student got up and game me her chair. I could fight this stuff, but it’s just not worth it. Cool marches on. And I waved at it when it went by.

Sixty Years

Today I attended a funeral for a woman who had been married almost sixty years. Impressive by any measure. She was a pastor's wife, a mother, a church leader, and an inspiration to who knows how many people through the years.

Most of the time when I'm at a funeral I have some part in the service. It's not often that I am sitting in the pew. Today I was just a few rows behind Mr. Northington. He was sitting in a wheel chair, the closest person to the casket, with his children and grandchildren sitting next to him.

I began to wonder what it's like to be in his place, formally saying goodbye to the woman who had walked with him through a lifetime. And what about the children? There are few things more painful than seeing your children suffer. I'm not able to imagine grief like that. I know people do this everyday. Funerals like this one are part of life. But the regularity does nothing to minimize the grief.

Funerals make me think about life, not death. I left the service today with a fresh determination to enjoy the people who make my life what it is. I'm forty years old and I've been friends with my wife since I was fourteen. She's lived with me, since we were married, longer than she lived with her mom and dad. I am totally invested in her. I have no idea what my life would be like without her...nor do I care. But I do know that our life in this world together will someday come to an end. And that reality motivates me to make the most of the days we have.

This morning when my eyes first opened I saw her sleeping, just a portion of her face was within view. I swear she looked just like she did twenty years ago. A moment later I was in 2010, but all the years seem to dissolve in our relationship. She is the young bride I married all those Junes ago, and the young woman who taught our children to walk and read and write, and she is the woman who kissed me when I got home this afternoon.

Will we have sixty years? I have no idea. But even if we have a hundred it will be too few. I have to go now...I hear her moving in the kitchen...and, well, I only have so much time.