One Reason Why

If you know me, you know I have a thing for Mary and her sweet baby, Jesus. I have several collectables throughout the house; they are more notable during the Christmas season.

Just recently, my husband–who I call the “huggy hubby”–and I were at an auction house where we were able to peruse the items that would later be purchased in a frenzy of an auctioneer’s rambling and those hopeful purchasers’ anxious bidding. Hubby was looking for clay pots for outside. I was simply browsing.

Imagine my excitement when I happened up on this little darling, Item #2175:

I declared to HH that “Oh, I want this!” He told me I would have to bid on it . . . which didn’t make me altogether pleased. After all, I wanted it. Not to sound spoiled, but no one else seemed to be admiring it the way I was, so why couldn’t I just purchase it? “That’s not the way it works,” he told me.

So, come auction time, I had to wait . . . wait . . . wait for this item to come up. Four hours I waited. Meanwhile, I bid and won three items–a Betty Boop teapot (for Michelle Medlock Adams), a singing Santa (not one of those tall ones that does a bad hip-twist, this was a Hallmark collectable purchased for our friend Jack who plays Santa every year at the local children’s hospitals, etc.), and a beautiful something I’m not saying here because it was purchased/bid/won for my cousin Jeanette and I haven’t given it to her yet. Finally, The Sleeping Christ came up for bidding and I was ready and feeling pretty confident. After all, I’d managed to bid and win every item I’d wanted so far.

Imagine my surprise when someone started outbidding me. Excuse me? Did they not know my penchant for all things Madonna & Child?

Apparently not, because whatever I bid, this person bid more. I was both frustrated and surprised. After all, while lovely, it wasn’t a large painting. The frame was gorgeous, no two ways about that. And the image was of Mary and Jesus . . . but why was this person so adamant to win against me? (Yes, I was taking this personally.)

I lost. I lost and I pouted. And whimpered. Huggy Hubby suggested I look up the painting and see if I could find out something about it, possibly purchase another one. So I did . . . learning that the origins of the painting (not this one, but in general) goes back to the 1500s.

Bernardino Luini was a North Italian painter from Leonardo’s circle during the High Renaissance. Luini was also influenced by the Italian painter, Raphael. Many of his paintings were influenced by the Scriptures, including–obviously–The Sleeping Christ. I began a search to see if I could find another copy like the one at the auction house, but had no luck. Puzzles, yes. Pillows, sure. But nothing like I wanted.

The next day, HH and I returned to the auction house to pick up our wins (this is the way it works) and, just as we were about to exit the car, I bemoaned, again, the fact that I’d not won the one thing I’d waited four hours to bid on. I know this makes me sound spoiled . . . and truly the last thing this house needs is another painting . . . but I really really loved that painting.

HH paused and looked across the seat at me. “I’ve already bought one for you,” he said. And, he had. He pulled out his phone and showed it to me. Beautifully framed. This one, matted (ha ha to the winner of the previous night’s bidding). “I love it and I love you,” I told him. This is but one reason why.

The framed painting arrived yesterday and, when I saw it, my heart swelled with love and gratitude. This man . . .

Our marriage has not always been perfect, but what marriage is? There are times when I could kick him as good as kiss him, and I’m sure he can say the same for me. But, isn’t that life? We’ve been married 42, nearly 43, years. The longer I’m around folks, the more of a rarity I know that to be. When I’m asked how we’ve managed to stay married so long, especially when most marriages end in divorce, I am forthright: we chose not to quit.

But there is another answer too and it’s found in Scripture. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together (Colossians 1:17). Six months into our marriage, HH dedicated his life to Jesus and I rededicated mine. Now, that doesn’t mean that from then on everything was hunky-dory. It was not. We climbed over a lot of stumbling blocks. Fell over a few from time to time. But we either climbed over them or, having fell, got back up. We made mistakes and learned from them. We gained and we lost. More often than not, we simply dug our heels in and held on.

My grandmother said something to me over a cup of instant coffee one day as we sat at her kitchen table–something I’ve held on to for these many, many years. Her marriage to my grandfather had begun when they were so, so young and, in the 66 years of their marriage, those days of wine and roses were filled with many bitter sips and quite a few thorns. But they held on. She held on, she told me, because “When he died, I was the one still there. I never quit. I never gave up.”

So, there you have it. It’s not about the gifts. That’s just a heart thing and, I know, gift-giving is his love language. It’s about loving the other more than you love yourself . . . and loving Christ above all else.