I’m an engineer by trade, at least for the past 2+ decades. Received my degree late at age 41.

My boss forwarded an email to me a few days ago. Seems I had reviewed a document and after the review had listed a number of comments, questions, and concerns found by myself and others on our team. The man who received the comments, questions, and concerns wanted to talk with the individual responsible for putting the comments etc. together.

Talk mind you, not exchange emails.

I called and left a message. No reply. Today during a telecom with about 18 people, he and I connected. He said he would call me after the telecom.

During the telecom, I prepared for his call – bringing up the original document and all the comments on my computer screen.

The call comes. I ask, “Did you have any questions about the comments etc. made?”

“No,” he says, “I just wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me? Thank me for what,” I asked?

“Your comments of course. With your feedback, I will be able to make a much better document. I appreciate the comments. They were all very good.” And then he paused for a moment.

We both laughed. You see we are both old school, both in our 60’s and while getting paid is nice, it doesn’t mean near as much as doing ‘meaningful’ work.

He had just made it clear my work is meaningful and the feedback he received made it clear his work was being read, analyzed, and used – in other words meaningful.

We understood each other, we are old school.

End.

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My bride and I recently vacationed over New Year’s Day in Shreveport, LA. You might ask, “Why in the world Shreveport, LA?”  Reasonable question.

The answer is that it’s close to where we met. We actually met on Barksdale AFB – just outside Shreveport city limits and butting up against Bossier City.

I don’t remember meeting her on the Air Force Base.

What I remember is one evening at home in Bossier City, listening to the soundtrack of Midnight Cowboy (melancholy blues music) and in walks Sharon with my friend and house mate.

Sharon looked over at me and said, “You shouldn’t be listening to that.” That was it –  I was in love, head over heels, a total goner. Just one problem: she was dating my friend.

So I waited. Waited when they went steady. Waited when they got engaged. Waited until they broke up. Waited two more weeks and asked lf they were truly broke up?  After finding the answer was yes, I asked her out immediately and then asked for a chance to win her heart.

I saw her sometimes seven days a week, at least four days/nights.  I would bring flowers, cake, pie, ice cream – don’t think I ever came over empty handed. Her mother thought something was wrong with me.

Six weeks later, I let her know I had a question for her. She thought I was going to ask her to go steady! Instead I asked, “Do you want to get married in one week or two weeks?” She said two weeks.

Two weeks later, midday-midweek, during her fake dentist appointment, we eloped and drove to Marshall, Texas and got married – July 27, 1971.  For the uninitiated that’s 38.5 years ago.

While in Shreveport we traveled to Marshall, TX again. This time we stayed for coffee and conversation. But that was afterwards. After going to the courthouse and finding our signatures in the registration book for marriage licenses.

Seeing our names there, that was amazingly special.

Then it hit me.  Our names there would not have meant a thing if we had not persevered. Not a thing.

We both persevered. She more than I, for sure.

Nonetheless, we persevered. Glad we did, very glad.  Brings to mind Hebrews 12:1b, “run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (NIV) or “run with patience the race that is set before us” (KJV).  Either way you get the idea.

Bottom line, marriage is a long, long race best run with patience and perseverance.  Run that way the rewards just stack up over time.

Don’t take my word for it, ask my bride.

BTW – I no longer say I fell head over heels in love with her, instead I say God put her in my heart. I am so thankful He did.

End.

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