Marriage - to be made whole

To heal:  to make sound or whole

"You are married. Healing is not a profession but a way of life. Your spouse is not your patient but your flesh. Healing, then, is a task for your heart as well as your head and your hand. "

"Mutuality is accomplished by two whole persons; and if each partner truly intends to be but the fraction of a relationship (thinking my whole makes up half of us) he or she will soon discover that these halves do not fit perfectly together. The mathematics can work only if each subtracts something of himself or herself, shears it off, and lays it aside forever.
        — Walter Wangerin Jr. (As For Me And My House: Crafting Your Marriage To Last)


Forty years ago this Saturday (April 23, 1971),  my whole became a half of a new creation - a marriage.  In fitting my half  to my husband’s I have been healed - made sound and whole in a new way.

As Walter Wangerin says, a marriage only works if the two shear off parts of themselves.  That happens over time, not at the altar, and the healing from it is an ongoing process, “a way of life”.  

In our first year of marriage my mother died. We became parents. My husband went away for 4 ½ months for officer candidate training in the Coast Guard.  It was a beginning that might have been too much for some marriages.  But we clung to each other and promised that after that separation for Coast Guard training we’d never be apart again.
It wasn’t a promise we were able to keep - work and life have separated us physically many times over the years.  But we also know now that the separations that harm a marriage aren’t the physical ones.  The retreat into selfishness, the breech in communication -  these are the separations that harm.  Selfishness is there every day, whether I want to admit it or not.   My attempts at communication often fall short - too many words, no words, the wrong words; a misinterpreted sigh or frown or tone of voice.  Every day my husband forgives and accepts me and loves me despite my faults.  God’s grace helps us heal the wounds we inflict on our marriage and it strengthens our love and commitment to each other.  

My husband is a kind and generous man; a devoted, steadfast and faithful husband, a loving father who continues to set a fine example for his children.   His love has carried me through every difficult moment.  It has multiplied my joy many times over.  It is my greatest blessing.

Ordinary moments

In early February, my brother was diagnosed with a brain tumor.  On February 10, he had successful surgery to remove the tumor.  He is now in week five of radiation and chemo, which will continue on weekdays until April 21.  That will be followed by a two-week "vacation" and then an undetermined number of months of additional chemo.  Vaccine therapy will also be part of the treatment.

My brother modeling the new sun hat recommended by his radiologist.

Last night we gathered at my niece's new home for dinner - my brother, his wife, my sister, my husband, my niece and her family.   It was a beautiful Spring evening and we sat outside on the porch overlooking a small lake.  It could have been any quiet family dinner, but there was an unspoken difference.  A cancer diagnosis does that.  It makes every ordinary moment precious.
My brother is doing well.  He is buoyed by countless prayers and words of love and support, fueled by a diet carefully researched and prepared by his wife, blessed with the care of a skilled medical team, and committed to being well.
There have been countless blessings in the past two months, too many to number.  Our hope grows.  Our gratitude for the ordinary moments together cannot be measured.  We treasure each one.
At the end of this month our extended family will gather in Durham as a team to participate in the Angels Among Us fundraiser for the Preston Robert Tisch Brain Tumor Center.    We're even having t-shirts made with this logo.

If you live in the area, visit the website and join us for the family fun walk through Duke gardens.  Or join us in spirit by giving thanks for each ordinary moment in your day.