Like a blubbering sap I cried as I walked out of the service during ending songs.
Why? all because there must of been at least 300 years of marriage that renewed their vows today along with one very young couple, that already had a child, and just needed the commitment of marriage to finish their family off.
I believe in marriage. I always have. Not just because it is a social expectation and couples who are not married aren’t taken seriously but because I believe in the commitment. If a person is good enough to spend your life with, to share finances with, to make children with, then they should be good enough for you to commit to them in a permanent way that can only be undone by an arduous court process.
So in church today, as it was the final sunday in the marriage series, there was a chance for anyone who wanted to renew their vows. After the message the Pastor called the couples up one by one. Their picture and date they were originally married was on the big screen. First the youngest marriage of only 3 years up to the longest marriage of 52 years!! Finally the last couple was the young couple getting married. They stood with all those couples who had been married for so very long; people who have survived through the good and the bad, the sickness and health and the richness and the poorness of life.
Can you imagine the power of getting married not just in front of family and friends but getting married at the same moment as at least 4 other couples whom had been married over 40 years? Not to mention all the other couples. That would be simply powerful.
I looked at that group and had my husband and I been up there we would have been only second in line. Our 5th anniversary is coming up in July and I realized we have so much further in our lives together to go. This is not a first marriage for either of us so statistically we have the odds against us. But screw the odds. On July 7, 2057 when I am 80 and my husband is 83 we will hobble down an aisle and our children, grandchildren and possibly great-grandchildren will watch us renew our vows and proclaim that if we survived this long we will make it to 7-7-77.
Every bone in my body knows we will make to at least 50 years. My husband promised me that. And in case I have forgotten to mention it to him, I also promise that we will make it to 50 years.
That’s why I cried.
Not because I was sad, but because I was reminded of what my own marriage has brought to me and seeing others make it to where I want to be made me silly happy.