Thursday, May 12, 2011

A day not like any other

I don't have a lot of time today.  Too much to do.  A ceremony awaits, you see.  A celebration long planned, prayed and waited for is looming.  So I have packing to do, last minute details I must see to.  You know, the kind of things you worry that you'll forget to do and will leave the house without.  Beve will ask, "Is it all here--or finished?" and I'll answer just what my father always used to say, "By definition."  By this he meant there is nothing we can do about at this point.

We drive across the state for SK's graduation weekend tonight.  Yes, her college graduation.  A bittersweet time for her as she says goodbye to her beloved community behind the pine-cone curtain, and steps out into the next season of her life. Graduation from college is a lovely, sad moment.  One to celebrate the accomplishments but also take a moment to grieve the passing.  Plans have begun to take shape for the next season.  We look forward with great anticipation.  Commencement to it is a time to celebrate as well.  I love that we call such a moment both graduation and commencement.

Today, however, is another milestone day as well.  And the first paragraph I wrote could have been written almost three decades ago on a sunny spring day in my home town. So, because of what I have to get done today, I thought I'd just share this:

What amazes me about those two oh-so-very-young people (besides how enormous Beve's hand is compared to mine!) is that we thought that because we'd already known each other 18 years, we knew just about everything there was to know about each other.  We were so certain.  I really hated being a newlywed because I just instinctively felt like we were farther along than that.  How naive.  How ridiculously naive.  It's a little like how a new Christian thinks she knows everything there is to know about Jesus the first year.

This is about nine years later, when Beve's dad married Thyrza. We're still look like babes to me (and he always seems so much taller in pictures than he seems when I'm standing next to him!). Our three chublets were taking up all the air in the room in those days, so our marriage was the foundation of our family, but not the focus of our attention, if that makes sense.  We relied on our easy friendship--we had to--and fortunately for us (and no real credit to either of us) we were friends. 

These kind of friends.  Just thought I'd throw this in here.  This picture was taken in the Redwoods of a group of Young Life kids who went to Woodleaf one summer. Beve's on the far right, inexplicably standing on a long, so he's even taller than usual.  And I'm the girl with the lovely white belt (by the way, that's the boy who teased me about my nose in the tank top next to me).  On this trip home, Beve and I sat together and sang every song we knew in the Young Life song book.  I mean, every single song we knew.  It took hours and hours. And we laughed ourselves silly.  We both remember it fondly now.  And God was looking down on those hours knowing what was ahead for us.

We're still friends.  He's my best friend.  I'm so grateful for the life I get to live with him.  For the 27 years of adventure with God and with Beve.  His hair is gray now, and I'm chubby, but we definitely know each other better than we ever did.  And still he keeps surprising me.  That's the truth.  Beve always surprises me.
Happy Anniversary, Beve.
Now on with the day.

1 comment:

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