It was another rainy day-like today. The year was 1962; the day was Saturday, November 17, and we walked like two stiff soldiers under an umbrella–trying not to touch. After all, it was our first date, and you just didn’t get too close.

And I have loved walking under various umbrellas ever since, whether in light rains or downpours–with him.

We were just kids–Tom and I–then 17 and 18. The world had never looked so possible, so exciting, so beautiful as it did that drizzly cool day as we scouted out the campus of Carson Newman College in east Tennessee.

What made the magic? What caused that brilliant expectation looking into the future? What made two hearts stop beating when blue eyes met green ones? Somehow, everything was there–waiting for two immature, silly teenagers to fall in love and begin a journey.

And here we are –today on this rainy day, 51 years later. We are not walking under an umbrella, as Tom is, this moment, in a plane above the clouds, flying from Miami to Lima, Peru.

It is good to remember “when”—to celebrate the years, the joys, the tears, the journey from that day until now. This journey is such a paradox; on one hand, it seems only yesterday that those rain drops fell on an umbrella of unsuspecting, foolish kids, and yet, 51 years stretch behind us in one long endless string of days and events that span half a century.

I guess this is the reason I have always loved rainy days-one of God’s sweet gifts to us-days that whisper of promise and hope. We give Him glory and praise for His plan, direction and His purpose for which He brought us together.

“I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all your works and consider what your hands have done. I spread out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.” Psalm 143:5-6

Remembering. . .