Lora

     30 years married is a long time, especially for my husband and me.  But as of July 1st, that's how far we've come.
     He had an out of town doctor's appointment for his first annual check of his pacemaker. So, we were on a "doctor date," I call it.  I think that's pretty common for anyone who has a chronically ill family member.
     Since we were nearby, he took me to my favorite restaurant.  And as we were leaving, I asked him if it would be bad of me to run by my favorite shoe store, the buy one, get one half off kind, to finish getting geared up for my return to the gym.  Actually, I haven't done anything significant in the gym other than work there and tell other people what to do, since I was a member of the Racquetball Club in high school.
     He patiently sat in the car while I went straight to the men's athletic isle.  My feet are so wide, I don't even look at the women's anymore.  I settled on a pair of throwback Reeboks and asked the girl packing boxes on the next isle if I'd be the only person in America sporting those at the gym.  She liked 'em just fine. I told her our kids would probably make fun of me but that they like the 32 year old L. L. Bean bag I still have from high school and think I should tote it around at App State, where I probably wouldn't be on campus much, but have recently applied to finish college.
     She said, "I know a lot of middle aged people going back to school."  I grinned then told her it would be to write.  She said, "I write too."  Surprised, I said, "It'll probably be toward ministry."  She said, "Women ought to talk more to women about those things."
      I was still astonished at someone of her generation, when I had asked if she has a belief and if it is in God, then if it is in Jesus, she had a resounding, "Yes," for them all.  They weren't cutesy, right answer "yeses," but serious, matter-of-fact ones.  She looked all of 15, but she was 19, with a very thin and unassuming appearance, with glasses and lots of dark hair.  
      I told her what day it was and that I should be getting out to the car but first mentioned a few facts about the miracle of making it this far.  I said that a lot of people make excuses, but God.  She lit up and said, "'But God', that was the subject of my favorite sermon from my church in Ohio!"  I could almost see her recounting it.  Then, her face began to flush, as she encouraged me to do the writing.  She said, "I'm the only Christian in my family.  I just moved out on my own.  And it's hard; I haven't had  anybody to show me how to be a Christian."
      I immediately identified with her and asked her if I could hug her neck.  Her face was splotched with red.  I didn't even know her name but I had to find out so that I could pray for her.  And I told her that I would.  And I will.  Because it matters.  All these encounters, they matter.  As a matter of fact, they're all that matter, conversations that bear witness that our LORD is on His throne, as are thirty years of marriage between two fleshly, immature, passionate people evidences that God is real and that His Word still stands.