Forty Years
For a long time only our immediate family knew we were living in the back of our 1949 Ford truck. Homeless.
For two love-struck newlyweds, we just thought of it as an extended honeymoon camping trip.
That’s how our married life began.
Shortly after we were married, my father-in-law sat us down and drew a triangle on a piece of paper.
On one bottom corner he wrote Tom. On the other he wrote Karen. At the top he wrote God. He drew an arrow from each name heading towards God and said the closer we got to God, the closer we would get to each other.
He was right.
I think of the 40 years the Israelites spent in the wilderness on their way to the Promised Land. Like them, we learned our own hard lessons.
But we also have been incredibly blessed in our own promised land—God is still at the top of our triangle—and Tom and I are closer than ever.
We started poor but we were rich in the ways that mattered.
I laughed when I saw my husband’s video of one of our recent “projects”. It’s a speedy look at how we work together:
We like tackling things as a team—not just firewood, but our career, family, and faith journey.
Forty years. I used to think 40 was old. It's not. I used to think 40 years would take a long time. It didn’t.
Forty years is now the beginning of the rest of our journey here, and we’ve learned to be thankful for each day.
The Lord your God has blessed you in all the work of your hands. He has watched over your journey through this vast wilderness. These forty years the Lord your God has been with you, and you have not lacked anything. Deuteronomy 2:7