On Our Seventh

Seven years ago today. It seems like yesterday, and it seems like a lifetime or two ago. We're older, greyer, heavier, more battle-scarred from work, have traveled the U.S., Europe and Asia together, and have added sons-in-law and grandkids to the family ... all in seven years.

To celebrate, we rode our bikes out to a park five miles away with a picnic supper packed into our panniers. There was not another soul there; the visitors' center had closed for the day. We sat near the pond in the evening sunlight and ate sandwiches and Italian spiced cashews, brushed the ants off our legs and listened to the bullfrogs croak from time to time.

Husband had sent a bouquet for my office earlier in the day: pink roses and purple statice and orchids. Now, at the park, he produced a card with a handwritten message to warm my heart (Awwww!), and a Nike Plus iPod to enhance all the walking I'm doing. Wow! I had no clue this scheme was underway.

I was thinking about the significance of this day during my devotional time this morning. That's what anniversaries are for, I think: to stop and remember, to take stock, and to be thankful through and through for God's gifts to us. This--our marriage, our companionship, our increasing ability to read one another's thoughts and feelings, our way of rubbing some rough edges off each other, and our frequent shared laughter--is the very best gift I've ever gotten in my whole life.

I won't ever take it for granted.