17 years

This may surprise most of you but, as of last Sunday, I have been married to my first wife for 17 years. The number 17 seems so much more than 15 and I think that is due to the fact that we are, solidly, on the other side of the teens and hurtling headlong to 20. It has been a wild ride and we have shared many a special time, holiday, and trip together both as a couple and with our two sons. I cherish those times and love to reflect on them. However, as I thought back across the years (almost decades) that we have spent together I couldn't help but consider our everyday lives, our Monday mornings or Thursday evenings, as being the most meaningful to me.

There was a boy a while back that seemed to be a bit confused. No. It wasn't me. Well, not this time. Anyway, whenever this boy saw Nan and me he would ask his parents who that was and they would say, "Oh. That's Mark and Nan." Well, this boy had heard that so many times that his parents reported to us that he thought my name was "Mark and Nan" and that my wife's name was "Mark and Nan." That boy was quite the theologian wasn't he? Without his parents' prompting or instruction he realized that we are not "Mark" and "Nan" anymore. The two have certainly become one and we have taken on the identity that God wanted for us all along. And "Mark and Nan" have been this way for these 17 years and have loved each other so much that the enfleshment of that love has been made known to the world in their two sons.

So what of these ordinary days? What of the dusting, leaf raking, garage cleaning, ironing, and button sewing? What of the toast popping, clothes hanging, laundry folding and towel washing? I find that these times that have been given to "Mark and Nan" are so much more than they were when gifted to us separately. Could it be an inkling of the satisfaction the Trinity felt as they, in otherwordly unity, created the heavens, earth, and us? Could it be that "Mark and Nan" have tapped into the peace that Christ felt as he moved in lock step in his Father's will while holding his Father's hand? Could it be that godly longing for "I" to die and "we" to rise has been granted to us?


And maybe, just maybe, as "Mark and Nan" bake, cook, clean the dishes, and step on crumbs while helping the boys with their homework listening to the phone ring, they will find that there is a God saying, "See! Drink! This is what the Garden was like when we walked together."

Indeed, these 17 years have seen no ordinary days.


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