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The One My Heart Loves

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I found the one my heart loves. —Song of Solomon 3:4, NIV

My husband and I recently sat behind two aged couples in church. (I realize, of course, that aged is a relative term. We ourselves are considered aged by many, if not most!) They were a study in consideration and care, and they served as a great blessing to me that Sabbath. One couple appeared to be in their nineties and were about the same size—tiny.

Her entire outfit was skillfully crocheted at a level way beyond my abilities. Her hair was beautifully coiffed, and the gentleman was just as dapper as could be.

The lesson began when they got up for the opening hymn.

The struggle ended with them both on their feet, though I was not sure if they were helping each other up or holding each other up. But up they got, arms around one another, and both sang energetically. The struggle to get back down and, a little later, onto their knees for prayer and back up again played out similarly. But smiling sweetly at one another all the while, they managed quite nicely. They were a joy to watch, and I only hope Rick and I are as much a pleasure to behold twenty years from now. The other pair was also a delight.

They were, I believe, a little younger, and they both wore hearing devices supplied by the church. A moment of levity occurred when he snatched the aid she was wearing off her head and put it on his own, evidently preferring it. She wrestled it back.

But they, too, held hands, smiled, helped each other up and down, and generally appeared to be in love. I do not know for sure that these two couples were in long-lived marriages, but I like to think so. I imagine them being married as youngsters and holding on till now. That takes some doing. I came away encouraged by what I saw and thinking, too, of our marriage relationship with Jesus. It is doable also. He does all the heavy lifting, to be sure, but we agree to be in the relationship and to stay in it. We get helped up, held up, and just held. So, let us smile and hang on! No matter our age!

Carolyn K. Karlstrom

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