Today as I was picking up my messy closet I came across all the calendars we have ever had together and something really struck me. There were only three of them. Wow. Every single day of my entire marriage could fit into those three small booklets. I felt so small and insignificant. Small and insignificant, like I really am. Those three years had been the biggest and most significant of my life. But they were still just three tiny years. I thought of all the people I knew who would have thirty or forty calendars had they saved them all, or of Ron's grandma who had earned sixty-five calendars before she lost her husband last spring. There were people not much older that me who were already up to ten or more. I only had three. Those three calendars served as great reminder to me of all I still have to learn. Sometimes when I can feel myself growing and learning and changing so much I get excited and maybe a little proud of myself and feel like I am actually becoming something. Seeing those three calendars reminded me that I am only rookie. It might do me some good every now and then to be quiet about what I know and have learned and just listen to those who have a little more experience than I have. This was the humble pie that I had more breakfast this morning.
On a funny note about calendars, this year was Ron's turn to pick ours out. I will enclose a picture of our fourth calender. The one hanging on the wall in our living room right now.
Yes, those are guns. And, no, I never would have agreed to this in 2005. I can't even imagine what the relaxing effect of time and the sanctifying effect of marriage will have me hanging on my walls should God be pleased to give us fifty or so more years.
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