Wholeheartedly: A 50th Wedding Anniversary
One of the greatest joys of my life was witnessing my grandparent’s 50th wedding anniversary. Gathered together at a picturesque lake house in the heart of Texas, (and Texas heat, haha!) the family they helped create gathered together to acknowledge a momentous occasion.
High school sweethearts, my grandparents are the postcard example of what it means to get sweeter with time; as sweet as the authentic Southern sweet tea my grandma is infamously known for.
Yet, as much as their marriage is genuine, admirable, and a testament to their devotion to each other, I know that both of them would say that none of it, all fifty years, would ever have been possible without their shared love of God and Jesus Christ, as well as their ability to trust in Him wholeheartedly.
As I have observed their marriage for the past twenty-two years, one thing is apparent: their love is genuine.
They enjoy each other’s company, they make each other laugh, they are patient with one another, they are kind to the other, they do not envy, nor do they boast, nor are they prideful.
T
hey are a million great qualities, and then a million more.
A few weeks before the ceremony, I called my grandma to say “hello.” Over the phone, she told me that she was looking forward to renewing her vows with my Grandpa because this time she knows she means it.
I asked her what she meant.
She clarified that she meant it the first time, fifty years ago, too, but now, decades later, she knew, wholeheartedly, that she could accomplish and commit to all of those vows she had said fifty years prior. There was not a shred of doubt in her mind.
She simply meant, the love is still there.
And, boy, how right she was. This time around, they weren’t surrounded by the wedding guests of fifty years ago, but by the result of their love: three beautiful children, two sons-in-law, five grandchildren, one grandchild-in-law (though they lovingly consider him the sixth grandchild), and their first great-grandchild.
The love was not just there but evident.
The vow renewal service was ordained by their eldest grandson, yet another “wow” moment in an hour of “wows,” and as he read the opening remarks, my grandma’s eyes filled with tears. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to find the man of your dreams, stay happily, head-over-heels in love with him for fifty years, be willing beyond a shadow of a doubt to commit to fifty more, be surrounded by your most adored family members (and know that some who wish they could’ve been there, would if they could), and then have your eldest grandson conduct the ceremony.
The love was still there.
The short and sweet ceremony was followed by many happy tears, belly laughs, and good dessert; reminiscing over by-gone-days all while looking forward to the coming ones.
Fifty years, in the blink of an eye, and all of a sudden, you’re surrounded by love and family and joy and laughter and new beginnings and monumental moments and watching your grandkids become parents and watching the others start their lives and watching another grow into his role as minister and it just seemed to happen so fast.
Because it did.
But the love, the love is still there.
If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of propehcy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move moutnains, but do no thave love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
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, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always. hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails. — 1 Corinthians 13:1-8
