Today, July 4, is a red-letter day in the calendar of the USA and the Philippines (Fil-Am Friendship Day). And so it is in mine.
This is my wedding anniversary. Another year has passed by—smoothly on some days and roughly on others. So what's the big deal?
Not many marriages last long anymore. That's why, according to a psychologist, the monthsary has been invented—and celebrated—by the new generation. If a relationship can hurdle a month, then it's a big deal; to reach a year has become extremely difficult or just a dream.
I believe that grace walks with every marriage that lasts. It gives you just enough patience, understanding, concern, and trust that you need for the day. Then it walks with you again the next day and the next and the next—before you know it, grace has walked with you for years and years.
I now remember my old walking stick—the one that I used every walking day for twelve years. I lost it a few days ago and texted my husband: Mourning the loss of my walking stick . . . sob.
He went back to where I said I left it, but it was gone. He posted a note on the wall of that place, but zilch.
For several days I walked with an unopened umbrella in lieu of my stick.
When I woke up at dawn this morning, I saw a walking stick where I used to park my old one. It comes in the colors of our flag—red, white, blue, and yellow. It has the right grip, the right length, the right weight, and an outrageous look that matches my outrageous taste.
Upon closer look, it is nothing but a PVC water pipe discard, which the hubby wrapped in electrical tapes. I call it perfection, 43 times better than my old one.
My new walking stick is how I see my marriage to this man, who forgot to greet me and whom I also forgot to greet this morning, and who will be busy all day and will come home late tonight because he will attend a Rotary meeting. I will likewise be busy self-editing a storybook I had just written.
And grace continues to walk. Today, it got me the perfect walking stick and a perfect family news I am not yet privileged to divulge.
God's gentle grace walks with arms wide open to embrace our failings and frailties, turning them into marriages that last—"in sickness and in health."
This calls for a new header:
The old one comes down: