Milestones, gemstones, living stones

In the midst of a two-week vacation at the end of August, Margaret and I celebrated our 30th wedding anniversary. Thirty years is a milestone worth marking. Neither of us had been alive for that long when we first uttered our wedding vows, pledging enduring love and fidelity "as long as we both shall live." While the words flowed easily from our lips back in 1980, life since then has been an ongoing discovery of what they actually mean.

Here's a curious thing. When the topic of our anniversary arose, a wide variety of people—a neighbour, a friend, a relative, a storekeeper—all responded in the same way. "Thirty years," they said. "That's rare these days." Now, I don't for a minute think this accomplishment is particularly uncommon, but it's true that many marriages do not last this long. Living intimately with another person can be—often is—very demanding.

Our life together has entailed its fair share of ups and downs, of struggles and successes. We flourish at times and flounder at others. We're proud of our children, who are now fully independent. We live with disease and manage our uncertainties. Thirty years. We know each other's strengths and weaknesses. We are often kind and sometimes cruel. By God's grace we've remained grateful for each other and committed for the long haul.

For as long as we've been married we've marked our anniversary by re-reciting the vows we composed for our wedding day. The concepts become more firmly embedded as the decades roll by, although the words seem a little more elusive each year, flickering in and out of focus like the shadow of leaves in a sunny afternoon breeze.

Earlier this summer we noticed my wedding band is wearing out. It's been getting really thin and misshapen in places (not entirely unlike its owner). So Margaret decided to get me a new one. We found it in a small jewelry store in Canmore. It's a broad silver band featuring three ammolite stones, not a plain, narrow gold one like the original. In sunlight it sparkles varying degrees of green, red and amber. I like it very much. It symbolizes everything we have had in our relationship—and more.

I say more because this year we weren't just content to remember and renew our existing vows. This milestone marks yet another stage in our lives, and we wanted to restate our mutual commitment to meet whatever demands might come our way; to embrace our future with a clear sense of direction and a firm set of priorities. Anniversary is not just a time to remember; it's an opportunity to renew and refocus.

We haven't fully written our renewed vows just yet, but we know they will be constructed on the foundation we've already established. We know we want this next stage of our relationship to be filled with joyful companionship distinguished by an ever-deepening contentment with our circumstances and each other. And increasingly we realize that our lives are not just about ourselves in the immediate here and now; that our choices at this stage leave lasting ripples throughout our circles of influence.

Among other things, Margaret and I have agreed and determined that worshiping and serving God must continue to be an important—even defining—feature of our lives. Some of this significance is symbolized in a new ring whose light-lively gemstones are an enduring reminder of a few words from the apostle Peter, who compares Christian believers to "living stones"—stones that need to let themselves "be built into a spiritual house" (1 Peter 2:5).

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