Sunday, June 6, 2010
A Priceless Gift
Our parents gave us a humongous gift last week.
Something so big, I can't help but write a little something about it.
This is one of those "priceless" gifts... something we'll never be able to put a price tag on, with benefits we'll forever take for granted.
In the last week, mine AND Corbin's parents have celebrated their 40th and 43rd wedding anniversaries, respectively.
Amen, and Amen!
And it goes down the line.
Corbin remembers celebrating his maternal grandparents' 50th anniversary (his paternal grandparents died young, but were married more than three decades at that). Both sets of my grandparents stayed married until death as well, probably 40 or 50 years on each side.
So, we've been given this legacy. If I'm ever asked to share my story, my testimony, I always start with the fact that the story of God's work in my life began way before 1972, before my birth. He set me securely in a well-trod path footed by generations of godly relatives who trekked before me, clearing worldly debris and plucking weeds of pride, pointing to the truth that satisfaction comes not from this world but in the God who created it.
I claim Psalm 16:5-6 as one of my "life" verses -
Lord you have assigned my my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.
Isn't that passage grand? I'm well aware it's not everyone's story, not even most people's story. But it's a beautiful, undeserved GIFT that Corbin and I get to fall into family lines who not only loved and honored the Lord, but who took their marriage vows seriously!
Last week my mom and dad celebrated their anniversary in South Padre Island, where they honeymooned 40 years ago. I think it's only appropriate, along with a "way to go, Mom and Dad!" cheer, to share the following letter. My dad penned it last year on the occasion of my mom's 40th birthday.
I knew from the beginning that Claudene loved someone else more than me. Her heart and loyalty belong to Jesus. A good start. Allows everything else fall into place.
I saw her at her senior prom. I was an invader from the nearby college, escorting the football coach’s daughter. Claudene caught my eye from across the room. Bouffant hair, flipped up at the shoulders. Pretty as a picture. She had her hair fixed the same way in her yearbook picture, the picture on my desk.
We flew kites at Padre Island. She was a fresh breeze. Dancing at a party, I told her I was going to marry her. She slapped me and wouldn’t talk to me the rest of the evening. I went to see her at her house. She was studying in the back yard. I sat down next to her in the grass. For no reason, she threw a Tupperware glass and hit me right between the eyes.
Everything kinda fell into place. Our dreams blended and strengthened.
She was bright eyed and expecting great adventures heading out for Marine Flight School.
She was bright eyed and expectant on the cruise ship heading for three years in Hawaii.
She was bright eyed and expectant arriving in Tokyo with two suitcases in one hand and two kids on a dog leash in the other.
She was bright eyed and expectant when we sat down to chart our new future, returning to South Texas for helicopter cattle herding.
She was bright eyed and expectant heading up to Fort Worth. After touring our soon to be seminary home, we had pancakes at IHOP. Her pancakes had maple syrup and tears.
The seminary home had several good points. It was convenient to the campus. It was convenient to find things because anything loose would roll to one corner of the house. If we ever wanted to hop a train there was one right across the fence.
She was bright eyed and excited when she hurried me out to see the new home she had found that even had an aviary name. In the Wren home she raised four bright eyed and expectant children.
She was bright eyed and excited sitting and cheering in the stands for all their games. All of them. She was bright eyed and excited to get started cheering for the grandkids.
She was bright eyed and excited driving up the crunching road to Driftwood in Lake Palo Pinto, where we are at home on dueling riding mowers and front row seats for reflective Texas sized sunsets. Where the sun always sets in that perfect picturesque place over the top of the Hill Country.
She was bright eyed and expectant touring an airport homesite on a golf cart, greeting evening walkers and cyclists.
She was bright eyed and expectant when she started teaching to pay for cheerleading outfits and soccer shoes, twenty years ago. She was bright eyed and expectant of those special needs children, making sure they got what they needed.
She is bright eyed and excited when Bogan asks to go for a ride in Daboo’s little red Panoz.
Claudene often comes out and sits in the hangar as I preflight the plane. When I taxi back in she is reading a book on the front porch. I see it as kinda like sitting in the stands cheering for Cap.
She took a flight with me along Bear Creek recently, bright eyed and excited about future trips to Victoria and beyond.
Every morning I wake up in 1970. I look past her yearbook picture out at the trees lighting up along Bear Creek. I thank God for this girl that has made me a better man, as things have kinda fallen in place.