Last Sunday was our 41st wedding anniversary, Lord. J. and I. have put up with a lot out of each other over those years. We've made too many mistakes to recount. But, I think, we've learned a lot of things from those mistakes, too.
Some of those years were filled with heartache. Some of them were joyful and exciting. Some of them were dull and some were filled with regret. But we've stuck it out sometimes with our teeth gritted and our knuckles white, sometimes with great happiness.
It has been a matter of commitment to both of us, Lord. In 1968 we stood before our families and friends and before You to not only declare our love for each other, but to declare our intent--our commitment--to spend the rest of our lives together. Commitment can go a long way when the years are hard or unhappy. Commitment can be a mighty strong glue when emotions are falling apart. Sometimes that commitment is all that holds a relationship together.
When I stop to realize that my level of commitment to J. and to our children is a mere vapor compared to Your level of commitment to me, I'm left breathless, Father.
Commitment can be costly, as you know, Little One. But it can pay huge dividends, too. Thick or thin, good or bad, high or low times. Commitment means you do everything in your power to do what you said you would do.
That's what I did at Calvary, Little One. I did everything in My power to do what I said I would do. For you.