A few months ago, one of my engineer friends introduced me to the idea of a “marriage equinox.” It’s when you have been married longer than you have been single. A few clicks on a date calculator, and I learned that my husband was unmarried for 8,377 days. As of today, he has been married for 8,377 days. He found this worthy of celebration and brought home half a dozen beautiful roses, reminiscent of the ones from our wedding day.
In those 8,377 days, my husband has learned how to be a husband. Sure, he read all the required books before we walked down the aisle, but the “boots on the ground” learning must be done by doing . . . by shoveling snow and warming the car, by making dinner when a pregnant wife lies sleeping on the couch, by meeting downtown during lunch break . . . by a million little things that all add up to one big, glorious thing called marriage.
On a drizzly January afternoon when we held hands and pledged it all, we were all hopes and dreams. Since then we have navigated the maze of job changes, address changes, six kids, a challenging diagnosis, joy and heartache, pain and pleasure. We are nearly twenty three years in–not long enough to be experts, but long enough to know that there is a mystery here. It is a mystery of wonder and mercy. It is a little, shadowy picture of Christ and His Church, lived out in the northwest corner of Vermont. It is an equinox of grace.