Fifteen Years

On November 12^th,  fifteen years ago, I knelt on one side of an altar across from David as we were married.  It was a very special moment.  I felt unusually calm and very sure that we had our Father in Heaven’s approval.  That feeling of calm and quiet assurance has been an anchor for me because as time passed, I quickly realized that when it came to the challenges of marriage and family life I was ill-prepared.  I made a lot of mistakes.  I would describe my marriage as messy at times, sometimes ugly, and not what I had expected.  I also felt like I was bumbling through raising my children and hoped they wouldn’t hold my shortcomings against me later.

Many years later, my sister-in-law turned my thoughts to that altar and I pondered the significance.  It was an altar that we knelt at to start our marriage.  We didn’t start our marriage on a beach with the sunset behind us, or in a rose covered gazebo, or some other romantic spot.  No, it was kneeling at an altar.  "Have you ever considered what takes place on an altar?"  my sister-in-law asked me.  My mind turned to Old Testament times when animals were sacrificed on altars as an offering to the Lord, representing the sacrifice of the Son of God.  I imagined the blood and considered the messy, unsightly, perhaps even ugly altar—not like the pristine white altar I knelt at when I was married — but the symbolism wasn’t lost on me.  Marriage is messy.  Family life is messy.  And that is ok.  If we expect it not to be, we may be setting ourselves up for great disappointment.  

If our goal is eternal life and exaltation, then the family is the perfect school to learn how to be God-like because in order to be successful at marriage and family life, we must offer up ourselves upon the altar—our pride, our self-serving will, our unkindness, our temper.  It requires sacrifice, selflessness, repentance, forgiveness, mercy, tolerance, and above all love.  The altar is a beautiful, poignant reminder that just as Jesus Christ offered up His life for His brothers and sisters (you and I) because He loved His family, so should we.  Doing these things bring immense joy.  We like joy.  We want joy.  We have tasted it over these past fifteen years, juxtaposed with all the other messy stuff, making it all the more sweet and desirable.