Sometimes a guy just has to take stock of how good he’s got it. Today is such a day. My 35th anniversary. That’s right. Thirty-five years ago today Nancy and I tied the knot. Don’t know what we were thinking getting married four days before Christmas but somehow we pulled it off. Definitely would have picked a different time of year if I had it to do over again!

I could reflect on a lot of aspects of married life with my bride that I treasure, some more spiritual than the theme of this post, but somehow it just seems fitting to camp out here for some reason.

On Friday, our day off, Nancy asked me what I would like to do with our day. I replied, “I would like to make beef bourguignon!” Not your average day off response from me, so let me explain.

Recently we saw the movie Julie and Julia. Twice. Yes, I admit it. Please, no mail or negative comments. I found the film so redemptive on so many fronts, not that it’s perfect, that I wanted us to see it a second time (at the dollar theater, by the way, on Tuesday for 75 cents). It is filled with substantive themes like living life with passion and purpose, sweet fellowship with friends, feasting with joy, blogging (the main character blogs about her making over the course of one year every one of Julia Child’s recipes from Mastering the Art of French Cooking), writing (a parallel theme is Child’s writing her cookbook), and, in many ways, marriage. Much of the movie concentrates on the relationships both women had with their husbands throughout the ups and downs of their writing experience. Beef bourguignon is one of the signature recipes in the story. It looked so mouth watering good I was dying to try it.

So sneaky me, I bought Nancy Mastering the Art of French Cooking at Costco for our anniversary (OK, it was really for me) and proposed on Friday that we tackle the recipe together. And we did! We wrote out the menu, shopped together, and spent two hours that afternoon following the recipe (man, am I glad I married a home ec major – talk about complicated) and popped it in the oven for three hours.

That night we sat down to a sumptuous feast of tender beef simmered in red wine with white onions and mushrooms, poured generously over egg noodles with a side dish of peas. And we just lingered at the table. We talked. We laughed. We listened to Christmas carols. We fellowshipped.

Little wonder Jesus describes the intimacy of fellowship with Him like coming for dinner in Rev. 3:20.

My marriage and its intimacy points me to a greater more permanent, more satisfying intimacy I will share with Jesus in the kingdom forever.

Man, am I ever grateful to get that truth and to share thirty-five years and counting with just the sweetest, most faithful woman on the planet. OK, I’m biased, but you have to admit, blessed, indeed, I am.

Nancy, OGC makes me want to be a better pastor. You are the only one who makes me want to be a better man. Thank you. I love you. Always will, by God’s grace. Here’s to our 70th, Lord willing.