Seasons of a Marriage

by Donna Poole

“I’d like to buy a diamond ring, please.”

John was nineteen and looked much younger when he walked into Schooley’s Jewelry Store at 152 East State Street, Ithaca, New York. It was an old, well-established store and had been there since 1937.

The proprietor, Mr. Wrisley, was kind. He didn’t ask if John had any money, but he did ask how much he wanted to spend. Then he showed him several diamonds, from larger to smaller.

John’s eyes brightened when he saw the bigger diamonds. He hadn’t expected he could get anything like that for his money.

“Now I want to show you something,” Mr. Wrisley said. He gave John his eyepiece so John could see that the larger diamonds had many flaws, not visible to the naked eye, but easily seen through the eyepiece. One of the smaller diamonds looked perfect with no flaws.

Mr. Wrisley nodded. “It’s a pure diamond, perfect. It’s up to you. It depends on what you want.”

John never was all about show, but he does love perfect. He loves God’s perfection, and He loves that God makes us perfect in Him when we trust Jesus to save us from our sin. He thought the smaller diamond was a good symbol of what he wanted our marriage to be. He put down some money he’d saved from working his summer at Cornell University and promised to bring home money from his college job at Grand Union each paycheck until the ring was paid for. Mr. Wrisley agreed.

We married the summer we were twenty; it was the spring of our marriage. I wish I could tell you that like the ring it was always pure, perfect, and without flaws, but that would be a lie. We both had a lot of growing up to do. John’s mom wanted to do his laundry, and he insisted on spending every weekend at home so she could do it. I enjoyed visiting his wonderful parents, but every weekend seemed a bit excessive, especially because we were both going to college, working full time, and had little time to spend together during the week.

Like Ruth Graham said when a reporter asked her as she and Billy Graham, the famous evangelist celebrated their fiftieth anniversary, “Did you ever consider divorce?”

Her answer came quickly. “Not once.”

“Oh, come on. You must have thought of it at least once in fifty years.”

“Divorce? No! Murder? Yes!”

There wasn’t much we didn’t argue about, but the disputes were surface, silly, and passed as quickly as a spring shower. Our first year was tumultuous, but we loved each other fiercely, and had wonderful times as breathtaking as the most perfect of spring days.

Spring marriage days slid into summer, the wonderful years of raising our four children, or perhaps of them raising us.

Then came late summer. The kids married; the wonderful grandchildren began arriving, and we have thirteen of them now.

How quickly summer became fall. Everyone here in Michigan and my family in New York says they have never seen the leaves as beautiful as they have been this year, and I feel the same about the fall of our marriage. It has never been as lovely or connected as it is now.

Perhaps we are even in the winter of our marriage. Only God knows that.

John and I have walked down so many backroads together. Some roads have echoed with joy and laughter. Others have listened to our prayers and tears. But through all our journeys, our love has grown deeper, truer, purer, more like the ring John gave me fifty-two years ago.

Why is that?

John gives great advice when he does marriage counseling. He draws a triangle with three dots, one at each corner and one at the top. “The top of the triangle is God,” he tells the couple. “The dots at the sides are each of you. What happens as each of you moves up the sides of the triangle and gets closer to God?”

The answer is simple. The closer two people get to God, the closer they get to each other.

When I sit in on marriage counseling, I tell the couple a favorite quote, “Marriage is when two people become one. The trouble starts when they try to decide which one.”

John doesn’t invite me to sit in on many marriage counseling sessions. I wonder why?

God, John, and I have more backroads to travel, but we know we are getting nearer to the end of our journey. The road we’re on now isn’t easy, but we have seen some beautiful views and have been sheltered from the winds by love of God, family, and friends.

Hopefully, we’ll travel together for many more miles, God, John, and I, getting closer, the three of us, until we reach Home.

The two have become one. Which one? We can’t tell, but whatever we are, we cherish the love we share.