Thursday of last week was the National Day of Prayer throughout America. The towns I drove through seemed to be making quite a deal of it.

Several pastors whose stuff I read, however, seemed worried that this might be the last such day. They fear President Obama might not authorize such an official observance in the future. They worry about that.

And that stuns me into silence. Well, almost. But not quite.

It ranks alongside the uppance of my dander when I read that Nashville’s Vanderbilt University is requiring campus religious organizations to allow anyone of any beliefs or no beliefs to hold leadership positions. (Note: all I know on this issue is what I read in www.bpnews.net. This is the Baptist Press’s website.)

What in the world is going on here, I wonder. Have we (they) lost our sanity?

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“All I want is what’s coming to me!”

An elderly sister in the pew behind him said softly, “Sit down, Henry. If you got what was coming to you, you’d be in hell.”

Henry was demanding justice; Henry needed mercy.

This week driving down Interstate 55 below Jackson, Mississippi, I kept noticing bits and pieces of pink insulation batting everywhere.

After a few miles, we came upon two 18-wheelers pulling halves of a large mobile home. One of the units was shedding, littering the highway. Bits and pieces of the trailer were flying from the open top and being strewn across the countryside.

I dialed “*HP” for the Mississippi Highway Patrol and reported the offender. The dispatcher assured me they would jump right on the matter.

They never showed up.

I was wanting justice. I wanted the cops to pull these drivers over, read them the riot act for the careless way they had secured the mobile home and for littering the countryside, and if they didn’t issue tickets, at least force them to tie everything down.

I suspect this is a the way it is with most of us. I want justice to be done when it involves other people. But for myself, mercy is a better choice.

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Well, someone has to say it.

No one who is married qualifies as an authority on marriage.

It’s no doubt true that some writers on the subject and professors who deal with this in academia may be considered such. But all the people I know married for any length of time have one overwhelming sense about them: Staying married and getting it right is hard work and cannot be done perfectly.

Taking two individuals who are sinners, needy, flawed, and still becoming whoever they will eventually be, and locking them into the most intimate of all relationships–then telling them it’s for the rest of their lives!–can be scary.

Marriage is tough.

Staying married takes everything two people have to offer. Only the truly determined or the terminally timid stick with it for decade after decade.

Marriage is a relationship designed to reduce its participants to a state of eternal perplexity, complete inadequacy, and thus a daily dependence on God.

No wonder many are opting out on the institution these days.

In this second decade of the third millennium, marriage is becoming increasingly unpopular. People need a good reason for getting married, otherwise, they see they can have the benefits of a legal union without any of the obligations.

That said, for those considering it, we offer our list of marriage values that will take you and your husband/wife through to the end and leave you rejoicing that you hung in there.

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Conflict makes stories work.

Write a book on how you succeeded with nary a mishap and made it to the top without a struggle of any kind and even your best friend, after buying a dozen copies, will lay it aside halfway through. It’s boring.

But tell how you struggled, how you failed and got back up, how life handed you lemons and you made a meringue pie, and we will all read it and cheer you on.

Our previous blog told of ten mistakes Margaret and I made over a half-century of marital bliss. (I’m putting that word in there just for her, to give her a smile. There were blissful moments, to be sure, but so many of the bad moments, the times when you’re so miserable you don’t know what to do except throw yourself on the mercy of God and love each other by faith.)

I told a friend yesterday that, in retrospect, the good times in our marriage were like the Smoky Mountains, and the bad times like the Rockies. That is, the good were nice and pleasant, green and verdant and sweet. But it’s the jagged outcrops of granite that seem to loom above everything else, causing us to remember those more than the other.

The first article was about the Rockies. This one is about the Smokies.

So, as promised, here are ten things we got right in a half-century of marriage. And so you won’t wonder, Margaret and I made the list last night over supper. It’s a joint project.

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Margaret Ann Henderson and I were wed on a Friday night in April of 1962. A few short weeks later, here we are celebrating the 50th anniversary of that event.

Time does fly.

This Friday night, April 13, at the exact half-century mark, we will be dining in one of our favorite New Orleans restaurants with our two sons and our daughter, our sons’ wives, and all eight of our grandchildren, who are flying in from various locations around the country for the weekend. Our pastor and wife, Mike and Terri Miller, will join us for the occasion, as will one other special couple, Beverly and Gerald Nugent.

Son Neil and his wife Julie have put together a notebook of photos which will be on display that night. (It feels not entirely unlike the kind of display funeral homes show for memorial services.) Margaret asked me to draw some kind of something for its cover. I’ve sketched in a few things, and decided on the heading at the top: The First 50 Years are the Hardest!

That’s tongue-in-check, of course. But not much.

Has it been hard? Yes. Has it been wonderful? Sure. Has it been everything we expected when we walked down that aisle at Birmingham’s West End Baptist Church so long ago? We had no idea what to expect, so that one’s hard to answer.

Would we do it all over again? If we were smart, we would. And if we were truly smart, we’d do it better this time.

We made enough mistakes the first time through for several marriages.

The popular thing to write on one’s 50th anniversary is a glowing tribute to one’s spouse in admiration for her patience and perseverance and in praise for the Lord’s triumph. I feel a lot of that. But I know also that few would benefit from reading that.

What interests people and benefits other marriages is learning from our mistakes. And we made plenty of those.

Here are our top 10 mistakes. (Well, the ones we want to talk about. Smiley-face goes here.)

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In Stephen King’s latest best-seller, “11/22/63,” hero Jake Epping has traveled back in time to head off Lee Harvey Oswald’s assassination of President John F. Kennedy. One of numerous complications is that the time-slit into which he’s able to slip lands him smack in the middle of 1958, some 5 years before the dastardly deed is done.

Eventually, Epping, who happens to be a teacher of high school English literature, moves to Texas and takes a job teaching in a suburban Dallas small town. And there something happens he had not anticipated.

He falls in love.

He loves the small town, the people, the school, the atmosphere, the kids, and the librarian. Especially the librarian. And he arrives at a momentuous decision.

He’s not going back to 2011. He’ll stay in 1960’s Texas.

Now, I’m only half-way through this massive book (845 pages!), so anything can happen, and usually does. But it’s an intriguing thought. He leaves contemporary America, retreats into the America in which I came of age (I was born in 1940 and graduated from college in 1962, so Jake Epping has hit my generation perfectly) and decides he prefers it.

He likes the real butter as opposed to the oleo, the absence of excessive (and ridiculous) airport security, the friendliness of communities before everyone became paranoid, and the laid-back attitude. (Note: He does see and reacts to the Jim Crow laws, the harsh racism, and the way factory plants are polluting the water supply, and begins to address these in his limited way. Just saying.)

I’m struck by the idea of the time-traveler finding a time he likes better than his own and settling down. When that happens, his mission is threatened.

We who are disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ are time-travelers, on a mission in this world, with plans to report back home when the mission is accomplished.

For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body that it may be conformed to His glorious body, according to the working by which He is able even to subdue all things to Himself (Philippians 3:20-21).

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The other day, while we were awaiting our planes in Naples, a friend said to me, “You know, Joe, people spend the first half of their lives trying to be a success, and the second-half trying to become significant.”

He added, “You know what I mean, trying to decide what kind of record I’ll leave behind. My legacy. How will I be remembered?”

I’ve thought about that ever since.

What I said to him at the moment was, “One of our favorite SBC pastors, Dr. Frank Pollard, was once asked how he wanted to be remembered after his death. He stunned the questioner into silence with his answer. ‘I don’t want to be remembered. I’m just the messenger.'”

Frank’s word set the gold standard for those of us in the Lord’s work.

The issue remains, however, and deserves some thought: What does it mean to become significant in this world? and how can I attain it?

So, the title of this piece is a misnomer. We’re not actually focusing on how “we” can become “somebody.” In Creation, God made us somebody: “a little lower than the angels,” is how the Psalmist put it (Ps. 8:5). In redemption, God showed us the true value He places on us: “God so loved (us) that He gave His only begotten Son….” (John 3:16).

The question rather becomes How can I make a lasting difference in my world? So that when I depart, I will leave behind a legacy of faithfulness, I’ll leave people who are better off for my having been here.

Let’s make a list of ways to make a significant difference in this world.

But first….

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(This is a second attempt to write on this subject, with some areas repeated and some new ones added.)

So, you’re headed down to the Crescent City? Good. We’ll be glad to welcome you.

What, you wonder, should you see?

All you know about New Orleans is the French Quarter, and you’re not sure you want to venture there. Perhaps you are staying downtown, near Canal Street, the main boulevard that dissects this city and splits the French Quarter (on the downriver side) from the CBD (Central Business District) on the upriver side. Bear in mind that terms like north and south or east and west can be confusing here since the river takes some nasty turns right where this city was located. We still call the downtown area (including Metairie and Kenner) “The East Bank” and when you cross the river going south “The West Bank,” even though it’s all north and south.

I’ve lived here a total of 25 years, and do not begin to be an authority on the city, its cuisine, history, culture, people, or anything else. However, I love the city and treasure its people. That, I might add, took some doing and also took a few years.

All right. That said, here are Places You Must See in New Orleans.

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I love to suggest Psalm 92:12-15 to senior saints. I tell them it’s easy to remember that psalm. After all, if you’re 92, you’re old!

The righteous shall flourish like a palm tree;

He is my rock and there is no unrighteousness in Him.

It took me a while to get this figured out, but over the years, eventually this pastor began to notice something quite remarkable the living God does in people’s lives: the longer they serve Him, the more like Christ they become.

It’s enough to make us conclude that the process does not end with death, but continues right on into the next life where what the Bible calls “glorification”–the process of becoming Christlike–is fulfilled and completed.

From this passage (a remarkable four verses, don’t you think?), here is a four-fold description of God’s people who have walked faithfully with Him through the years.

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