Accompanist!

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self seeking, not easily angered, and keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge it will pass away. And now these three remain, faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love. I Corinthians 13 selected

It’s hard to believe it, but at the end of this week, Randy and I will celebrate fifty years of marriage. It truly amazes me that God can take two totally different people, blend them together and make a union! It seems like just yesterday on a hot, sultry day in South Georgia that we said our “I Wills and I Dos” in the Friendship United Methodist Church in my hometown. As we exchanged our simple gold bands at the altar, I remember thinking of the inscription we had put inside both our rings, “The Greatest is Love.”

We had few future plans except for Randy to attend seminary, me to begin my teaching career, and us to live in an upstairs apartment of an old house in Decatur. We weren’t even sure at that point that Randy would decide to give in to the call into ministry. That call to the ministry is the last thing he or I would have expected for him, but when God calls, He won’t let go. Randy majored in political science thinking that one day he would enter the law profession. I thought he would make a great lawyer, and selfishly, I thought that would be much better than a life where the minister moves, lives in parsonages, and faces the uncertainty that is part of the Methodist calling.

At the time of our engagement, said to me, “I promise you when we get married, you will never be rich, but you will never be bored.” The fifty year mark has certainly proven that to be true!

All these years later, even though it was hard leaving each congregation, each (well, not all) the parsonages which became our home, and each piece of our heart we left, I wouldn’t change a thing. With each new congregation came new challenges, new perspectives, and new friends which left us with accomplishments, learning experiences, and a stronger love and memories for each other and every appointment.

During those early years I had to do things that I swore I would never do. Things like teaching children’s Sunday School classes, forming and leading the children’s choir, playing (picking) the piano, and hosting groups in the parsonage. I had to sometimes (when the expectations of the minister’s wife were too high) voice the words to members, “I didn’t marry the minister, I married the man.” When we have occasion to revisit some of these churches, the memories flood back, and I can see vividly that what I thought was such a burden at the time turned out to be the greatest blessings of my life.

Each home gave us a chance to work with a parsonage committee as we bargained for a dishwasher, a washing machine, air conditioning, and even a new piece of furniture. Each congregation took us in as part of their family. We celebrated with them, laughed with them, cried with them, and grieved with them. They welcomed each of our children and nurtured them during our time with them. Each name of members of churches brings back memories of our experiences with them. When you have an occasion to face uncertainty together, stick trials out together, and love together, you find the strong love of people who looked to their side in suffering and found the other person there.

Through it all, there is one person with whom you get to share experiences, talk things over, discuss needs, and plan for the future. It makes you realize how important it is to choose your life’s mate carefully. This one decision will bring either 90% of your life’s happiness or 90% of your life’s misery.

Marriage, in my perspective, is a lot like a soloist and the accompanist that perform together. The soloist sets the tempo and the accompanist follows in order to keep the two together. There are times in life where one is the soloist and one the accompanist. It takes the two being willing to play each role that makes life together either heaven or hell.

On this special occasion, I would say I have learned many things, but a few stand out. First, marry only for love. Next, never waste an opportunity to tell someone you love them. Thirdly, build on mutual sacrifice. Finally, forgive quickly for life is short.

Happy 50th Anniversary, Randy. I love you lots! Thank you for making life exciting!