My Life, A.D.

Two years ago I received an Easter basket from Eric, who was my boyfriend at the time. He proudly presented the basket that he had perfectly assembled and filled with delights. I was inwardly panicked because I hadn’t given Easter much thought. I had no hand-crafted gift to offer. So I sat on the couch in my little apartment and rifled through my basket of goodies. Eric seemed a bit anxious as I took time enjoying my unexpected gift. Finally I reached the last tissue-paper wrapped morsel in the bottom of the basket. It was a diamond ring. I looked up at Eric who already had tears in his eyes. He got on a knee and asked me to be his wife. 

I don’t think I paid much attention to Good Friday that year. I was thrilled, elated, content. My time in the wilderness was ending and I would be married! Eric and I would lay to rest our time as boyfriend and girlfriend and would be resurrected as husband and wife. Good Friday is the darkest day in the Christian calendar. We light candles in memoriam. The only “good” thing about Good Friday as that we know the rest of the story. We know that death is not permanent and that, in a couple days, there will be life. 

 I was driving through our neighborhood this week and passed a small, brick church with a sign out front. It simply read “Waiting For New Life.” Eric and I are enduring our own Lenten season of waiting. The hours turn into days, the days into weeks, and suddenly our wait has swelled to a year and a half. It’s hard to dream, imagine or hope at this point. We don't know the rest of our story. We are stuck somewhere between Good Friday and Easter: we have grieved a death and are awaiting new life. 

A few months after my Easter proposal, Eric and I exchanged vows. A sweet friend of mine has reminded me of something recently: There is no asterisk attached to marital vows. “In sickness and in health*" (* but only if we conceive a child). “Till death parts us*" (*Or until the Dr. confirms that we are infertile). No. We took vows to be man and wife NO MATTER WHAT. That IS a story to which we know the ending. I do have hope because God granted me the desires of my heart that day;  he gave me my husband. My cup runneth over.  

Post Script:

A.D. (Anno Domini) doesn’t really stand for After Death like most people (myself included!) think. I just thought it was a quirky blog title. It translates as “in the year of the Lord.” Which I guess fits, too. My life, in the year of the Lord.