I don’t need to tell you what I think of marriage and the family. You who know me already know. If I’m ever guilty of grinding an axe, I suppose it would be the home...that place where life makes up its mind. No need to add to what you’ve heard from me over and over again―or is there? Maybe so.

There is a reason I am prompted to say more. I celebrated my 69th wedding anniversary in June 2024. You read it right...that’s over half a century! Seems incredible. I remember in my younger years looking upon those who celebrated their quarter-of-a-century anniversary as folks who were one hop away from a wheelchair. And here Cynthia and I are going on 70. Amazing how time flies! About the time your face clears up, your mind gets fuzzy. Or at least a little misty. Why? I can think of four reasons.

Memories

They have a way of washing across one’s mind, like the surf upon the shore, when anniversaries come. Funny memories. Also, painful ones. Yet all of them dripping with nostalgia. Like our honeymoon—a colossal comedy of errors. And our 18 months of forced separation when we were 8,000 miles apart, thanks to the military. Such lonely times. But so essential in our growing up and facing reality. My midstream switch in careers...back to school, that tiny apartment, those disciplined, mind-stretching hours poring over the books. The births of our four children (plus the loss of two we never got to see) and those energy-draining years from diapers to kindergarten. Wow! How much we learned together...how deeply our roots grew together...how rugged and long were some of those roads we travelled together.

An anniversary reminds you, “Don’t ever forget the memories. They are imperishable.”

Changes

You just don’t live half a century with the same person without doing a flip-flop in several major areas of your life. I suppose the single most significant change I’ve experienced is in the realm of sensitivity. I have learned to read between the lines, to hear feelings that are never spoken, to see anguish or anger, joy or jealousy, confusion or compassion in faces that communicate what the tongue may not declare. What an authority I thought I was 69 years ago! And what a difference a wife and a pack of kids make! And 14 grandkids! God has used them to temper my intensity. The change from an opinionated dogmatist to more of an open-minded learner was really needed. Really overdue. That process, by the way, is still going on.

An anniversary reminds you, “Be thankful for the changes. They are important.”

Dependence

My marriage has taught me that I am neither all-sufficient nor totally self-sufficient. I need a wife. I need her support, her insight, her discernment, her counsel, her love, her presence, and her efficiency. She is not my crutch...but she is my God-given companion and partner, ever aware of my moods and my needs. She hears my secrets and keeps them well. She knows my faults and forgives them often. She feels my failures and apprehensions and encourages me through them. For 10 full years Cynthia was unaware of the fact I needed her. I was one of those husbands who plowed through life like a freight train—bullish, intimidating, selfish, and on top. Finally, the cracks began to show. Couldn’t hide ’em any longer. The Lord showed me the value of sharing my hurts and admitting my fears. Of saying things like, “I’m wrong...I’m really sorry.” And even being up front with my wife and declaring how very much I depend on her to help me hang in there.

An anniversary reminds you, “You don’t have to make it on your own. Your partner is irreplaceable.”

Dreams

One final thing is worth mentioning. Dreams are what you anticipate as a couple and then watch God pull off. Sometimes they are little things, like working in the garden together, dropping a few seeds and seeing the sprouts, then the fruit. Or praying together about one of the children...you know, asking God to grab their heart and soften their spirit. As that dream happens, you smile at each other. You understand. Occasionally, the dream is a big thing—calling for sustained prayer for the return of a prodigal, adult child or for endurance through the long illness or the death of a child. Occasionally, the dream calls for sustained sacrifice, mutually shared. Like getting through school. Or remodelling your home. Or getting out of debt. When the reality finally occurs, no words can describe the pleasure of that long embrace, that kiss of profound accomplishment.

An anniversary reminds you, “Think of the dreams you have weathered together. They are intimate accomplishments.”

Anniversaries are a beautiful combination of memories, changes, growing dependence, and dreams. Ours dates back to June 18, 1955, when a couple of kids said, “I do” and committed themselves to each other for life...having no idea what threatening storms lay ahead of us or what unspeakable joys would weld us together. For life.

I am a grateful husband. May God be praised for the genius plan of marriage and the thrill of celebrating it annually with the one I love.

Adapted from Charles R. Swindoll, Growing Strong in the Seasons of Life (Portland, Ore.: Multnomah 1983), 221–22. Copyright © 1983 by Charles R. Swindoll, Inc. Used by permission.