Happy Six-Groups-of-Six!
Happy anniversary to us!
I realized something this morning.
Today, on our 36th wedding anniversary, our journey together could be divided into six groups of six years.
Now, I know.
Six is often considered a negative number biblically, especially when there’s a trio of them.
But symbolically, six represents mankind and imperfection.
For example, according to the Genesis account of creation, God created mankind on the sixth day, one day shy of the seventh — the day the Creator rested, having called all his handiwork good (prior to the fall of mankind through sin and, thus, imperfection).
Of course, with its introduction, we’re all now sin-stained with this world’s icky.
And that’s why God sent his Son—Jesus.
On the cross, he wore sin on our behalf, giving us the opportunity to find freedom through the washing of his blood.
Oh, how wonderful!
Because of Jesus, we’re redeemed.
And now, God works all things together for our good, because we love him and are called according to his purposes (Romans 8:28).
Yes, even our imperfection.
So, as I reflect on the thirty-six years Bill and I have been married, I’m thinking about those six groups of six— of course, grateful for all the wonderful things, but, today, considering the imperfect places.
And why?
Because pondering them fills my heart with gratitude, as I see how God worked—is working—in and through each of them.
While there are many things I could share, I will particularly pick one(ish) “imperfection” in each group of six years, and I pray these little bits of our story will somehow bless you and encourage you.
1989-1995
Bill and I married on August 12, 1989.
Perhaps, like many couples, we saw our future as though peering through colorful stain-glass windows—
Imagining we would each immediately fix the other’s flaws, fears, insecurities, and shortcomings.
How not so!
I was still struggling with an eating disorder rooted in my teen years that made food my enemy.
But unlike some addictions—drugs or alcohol, for example—which are overcome by a “removal” (no easy thing, I might add), one needs food to live.
I had to learn to live healthfully with food—making that which had been a foe my friend.
For anyone who’s struggled in this manner, he or she knows.
It’s no simple matter.
And I am sure I wasn’t easy to live with, especially with one who not only loved cooking, but was very good at it!
More, such disorder interrupts lives in all sorts of unpleasant, inconvenient, selfish ways, and I am grateful today for Bill‘s patience in my imperfection as I navigated, with the Lord’s help, to find my way to freedom.
Because, with Jesus, we’ve been set free to the abundant life (John 10:10)—which sometimes includes…
Chocolate cake!
1995-2001
A couple years prior to the beginning of our second six-year-stent, we’d learned that, void a miracle, we would never have children biologically.
My heart was broken, as was Bill’s.
After all, having grown up together, we’d dreamed for years about our future children, and this news gut-punched us.
So, when our first child came to us through the miracle of adoption in 1998, of course we were overjoyed!
And very soon after, we felt the Lord’s leading to adopt another child—this time, a girl.
We were there for little Devon Mara-Leigh’s birth, and we were blessed to spend her first night with her— holding her, singing to her, and praying over her life.
The next morning, however, she was taken from our arms, without even an opportunity to say goodbye.
And we knew.
She was returning to a difficult, potentially dangerous situation, and our hearts ached.
And… for a short time, my fists flew.
I was angry with God.
After all, hadn’t we prayed and sought his will, making the decision because we wanted to walk in obedience?
But God taught us through that devastating situation that, in all circumstances—yes, in the imperfections of life, things we would never choose—he is good and what he does is good (Psalm 119:68).
Even when we learned several weeks later that Devon had passed away unexpectedly in her home, we were able to respond to her birth mother—though only by God’s grace—with mercy and love.
All these years later, I’ve often wondered where Devon’s grave is, and I would drive a million miles to sit at it and tell her how much, even in such a short amount of time… We loved her.
But one day!
Thankfully, a year later, we were blessed with our second son whom we named Jacob—again, through the miracle of adoption.
2001-2007
Within the span of these six years, we moved from our home outside Greenville, SC to Indianapolis for one year, and then to our beloved Selah Farm in western NC where we’ve been for the last twenty-three.
Of course, we know what happened on September 11, 2001—that imperfection that literally rocked our world.
Personally, however— only a year after this momentous and tragic event—we literally settled in a place of peace.
It’s why we named our farm after the Hebrew word meaning—“a place to pause, reflect, think about.”
“Selah” was, to us, reflective of Psalm 46:10–
“Be still and know I am God…”
As a teacher, it was my desire to home-educate our then young “preschool” sons, and Bill hoped for the same.
Of course I’ll be wonderful at it, I thought.
Truth was, I wasn’t…
Not at all, in fact.
Perhaps I could have been, but, establishing a new home with extended family next-door, it just wasn’t my priority, and, for a season, homeschooling flopped.
I’ll never forget the fight Bill and I had when I said I thought the boys needed to go to our local public elementary school.
“I can’t do this,” I groaned.
And, for several years, Jacob and Ian did go to the small, rural (and truly wonderful) school not far from our home.
But God soon reminded me that he works in our imperfections, making all things beautiful in his time (Eccl. 3:11).
2007-2013
In 2007, we were asked to consider the adoption of another little girl— a child who had been adopted by her paternal grandmother.
It seemed like a match-made-in-heaven, as Kristie already shared our last name and looked as if she was Jacob’s twin.
At seven, she was the perfect blend of sweet and spicy, and we loved her immediately.
She began spending much time with our family, and, by 2008, was living with us.
Although her grandmother had suffered some health problems—the catalyst for the difficult decision to place her with another family—Kristie would still visit her many weekends.
We were in the process of making everything legal, having signed all the papers, and we were very excited to celebrate Kristie’s adoption day.
But we waited and waited.
Over time, her grandmother regained her health, and we began sensing a change.
Still, I would never have expected that, on a hot August morning, we’d receive the news—
Kristie would never become our daughter.
Through tears, we said our goodbyes later that same afternoon, and it would be years before I would see this little girl again—
This wildflower who’d begun to grow in our garden.
Naturally, we were angry.
But the Lord taught us through this heartbreaking experience that we are to forgive, because it’s only in forgiving others that we can experience forgiveness, and, thus, true freedom (Mark 11:25).
With this loss, I wanted nothing more than to be with our boys and, after only a few years in public school, we began homeschooling again.
While not perfect, I was much more attentive to this role as mother / teacher, and those years were a sacred season.
And then…
In 2012, a little girl named Allie—one who’d been in a similar situation to Kristie—arrived at our home on a bright late-March morning and never left.
2013-2019
This period of time was marked with wonderful changes and painful circumstances.
Of course, having a daughter after many years of waiting—believing we must’ve been made to parent boys—was beautiful.
Allie has always been full of life—energetic and witty.
We attended a church for many years, a place where I personally found ways to use my gifts in a manner that brought much fulfillment.
But Bill and I journeyed through a difficult season and eventually left the church we’d called home for more than a decade, and…
We lost dear friends in the process.
Furthermore, Bill’s stepdad Denny was diagnosed with bladder cancer in June 2019 and passed away the following December.
These were hard days—filled with the imperfection of this broken world, but still…
Still, God taught us to press in to him and to claim the promise that he is always near the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18).
2019-2025
And here we are—to these last six years of our thirty-six.
I think we’ve been reminded most in these 2000+ days of words from our wedding vows—the part that says—
At the Steven Curtis Chapman concert at Biltmore where he sang a song we had in our wedding—“I Will Be Here” (linked above).
After all, just being in our fifties has its aches and pains, surprise “pop-up” wrinkles and those extra wiry gray hairs.
But more, Bill suffered from a health issue some years ago (discovered in 2008, which required major surgery, a minor surgery, and heavy doses of steroids for months) and there are still some health concerns.
But we take each day as it comes, one by one, knowing that—though we sometimes, often times, face challenges we can’t handle—with God, we can do all things.
And how?
Not because our shoulders are strong or broad enough to carry the burdens of life.
No.
Rather, it’s Christ who gives us strength (Phil. 4:13).
Happy “6-groups-of-6 years” to my amazing, kind, generous, loving, compassionate husband.
I can’t think of anyone I’d rather journey through all the imperfections of life with.
Thank you for loving me, through ups and downs, with all my many faults.
Bill, I love you!
