October 12, 2026
Hearing the rain in the middle of the night, I worried whether we would be losing the distinctive fall leaves by morning. Perhaps we lost a few. But this morning, there are bright diamonds of light sparkling in their places. I was immediately reminded of sitting in church the morning after I received a small diamond from Joel when we became engaged for the last time. But that’s another story. Looking down at my hand, a sharp ray of light hit my eye. It shone in all the colors of autumn, gold, yellow, orange, a dazzling green, the sanctuary lighting causing the display. The size of the diamond didn’t really matter, it held all the brilliance of the promise we had made.
The memory is timely as I watch the rising sun turning the trees into bearers of diamonds. In a few days we will be marking our thirty-second wedding anniversary. For the first ten years or so on our anniversary, we would make a point to call Father Ken, the priest who had both prepared us for and con-celebrated the service with Joel’s Methodist pastor and a Catholic woman. We wanted to let Ken know that we were still married! After we had completed the questionnaire that was a tool for talking about expectations in marriage, he told us that honestly, we were the “most incompatible” couple he had ever worked with. Perhaps that was why we were on our third engagement! But we persisted. If the intent is true, it may be that incompatibility beats boring every time! I know this, laughter and love has outweighed tears and struggle by a long shot. We may be incompatible, but our respect and admiration for each other is immense. Even after thirty-two years.
Some things have changed, however. I look at Joel sitting at my feet on the other side of the sofa where I write. His rich brown hair is turning silver and his beard a Santa white. In the words of his father, “Son, you are not twenty-five anymore!” In physical ways, this is true. But the enthusiasm of his boyhood spirit is intact, if not increased. He continues to work for good in the world and his kindness is still for me his sexiest trait. In these present times, he has grown a real “edge”. We have both lost any trace of our former rose-colored glasses. But our shared distress in what is happening in our country due to unconscionable leadership has drawn us closer not only to each other but to a wider community of friends. We know the importance of standing together.
Often during the years of our shared ministry, I’ve been asked by young people, “How did you know that he was the one?” They were seeking a confirmation of their own choices. I think my answer holds – attraction and excitement may be a great beginning, but when you find a partner with whom you share a desire to bring something healing into the world together, something that will bless it with more life, your bond becomes life-giving to more than yourselves. And that bond is strengthened by your outward commitment as well as by the one you make to each other.
It appears the raindrops have dried on the tree branches and the shine has disappeared, but the colors are deep and luscious, the very essence of fall. The theme of our wedding thirty-two years ago on October 15, 1994 was “It was Harvest.” I still remember it as the happiest day of my life as this incompatible couple was surrounded by a loving community promising “to call each other to our best selves.” Fortunately, those best selves always shown up with each other. So, Father Ken, we are still married! And it is still harvest. Amen.
