Rockwall, TX (February 3, 2026) – I pulled into my driveway recently just in time to see a man on my two-story rooftop, one who certainly didn’t belong there—my 73-year-old husband. Instead of shaking my head, I should have remembered that you can’t keep a good man down.
One long-ago summer morning, I peered into the heart of the man I would one day marry. Jim had recently graduated from college, and even though we were only Bible-study friends, he came to tell me goodbye, not knowing if we would ever see each other again. His golden-brown Ford Galaxy was packed with all his worldly goods since he would live under his parents’ roof once more while job-searching. Jim’s bank account had evaporated, so filling his gas tank for the long trip might have been a concern if not for the return-of-deposit check he received from his apartment building manager. However, he used a chunk of the amount to purchase an expensive birthday/goodbye gift for me: a large leather Bible—just like his own.
Providentially, the one local job that Jim had interviewed for before leaving town brought him back to me only two weeks later. Just one year after our front-porch goodbye, we stood at a church altar exchanging traditional marriage vows—not the clever, creative ones heard today. After almost 50 years, I can affirm that those old promises to love for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer … work well.
Early in my marriage, I agreed with author Elisabeth Elliot’s simple yet profound admonition to young women: “You marry a man.” Today’s women are told they can do anything men can do, which sounds good but doesn’t hold water. Most women will not venture into the crawl space beneath their home to check for truble. Most do not split logs or climb to high rooftops with leaf blowers. Allowing a husband to be a man is a great gift to a woman.
The man I fell in love with with wore holey jeans before they were trendy but dressed in suits and ties for most of his career. I watched the man I married transform in many other ways as well. When company layoffs or changes allowed Jim more time at home while job-searching (again), he astonished me with his skill at whatever he put his hand to. In the garage, he built hand-made furniture using sketches he drew on notebook paper; he tackled our home renovation projects with no need of outside help.
When Jim retired, I marveled again as he jumped in to help with our son’s custom woodworking business. Now he walks into a client’s home wearing paint-stained work clothes, dressed to tear out old cabinets or remove wire closet racks. He sometimes gets that distrustful look that homeowners may give a hired man. I wish they knew the real person in those work boots.
That sentiment surely reflects God’s desire that all might see his Son for who he really is. Jesus, Emmanuel, “God with us,” only looked like a carpenter’s son. When awaked by his disciples in a storm-tossed, sinking boat on the Sea of Galilee, Jesus rebuked the storm. After the sudden calm, his disciples exclaimed to one another, “Who is this man, that even the wind and waves obey him?” (Mark 4:41*).
In Christ, we find not only a perfect man but the Savior of the world. And if we allow God to be God, doing for us what only he can do, we will marvel at the One who calls us his own.
*New Living Translation
Faith Columnist Patti Richter writes and edits Christian faith articles and has co-authored Signs of His Presence: Experiencing God’s Comfort in Times of Suffering. Read more of her essays at BlueRibbonNews.com.
Who Is This Man That I Married? added by Melanie M on
View all posts by Melanie M →