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.