Someone once said, "Marriage is an institution, but who wants to be institutionalized?"  Statistics indicate that the average life of a marriage today is only six years.  This shows us that something is very wrong with the marriage institution.

            Of course, everyone says, "Ours will be the perfect marriage."  I'm no exception-I knew mine would be, too.  I started talking, dreaming and scheming about marriage from the time I was five years old, playing with bride and groom paper dolls.  As a teenager, every time I looked through bridal books or attended a wedding, I pictured myself in a beautiful wedding gown, walking down the aisle.  I could see myself repeating the vows, being kissed by the groom, throwing my bouquet, opening gifts and being swept away in a decorated car into the sunset to live happily forever after in a storybook land.  My dreams were good, but somehow reality didn't quite go along with my dreams.  Let me reminisce a little.

            Larry and I were married on October 16, 1965, in Sisseton, South Dakota.  It was a beautiful autumn day, the first day of the hunting season.  Everything about my wedding day was going as planned.  I was determined I wasn't going to run around on my wedding day like a chicken with its head cut off.  My wedding day was perfect-calm, smooth, and organized.  Until one hour before the wedding, that is.  I was at home, getting ready to go to the church, when I heard my father bellow, "I'm NOT going to wear this clown suit anywhere!"  He was serious.

            "But, Dad," I protested, "you have to wear that tuxedo.  Everybody is supposed to match."

            I'm NOT wearing this tux, and that's that!" he thundered back.  Practically in tears, I ran upstairs to plead with him to wear it.  But when I saw him, I began to laugh.  The tuxedo rental company had mismatched the jacket and slacks.  The slacks were four or five sizes too big, and he did look like a clown.  Well, Dad had just purchased a handsome black suit, and I agreed that it would look much better than the tux.  So off to the church we went.

            Five hundred fifty guests were seated in the big, beautiful church.  The music and ceremony went just as planned.  Larry's brother, Lowell, presented a touching marriage sermon.  Larry and I sang a song to each other, exchanged rings, and were pronounced Mr. and Mrs. Larry Lundstrom.  It was beautiful!  After the wedding reception and gift opening, we slipped out and headed off to North Dakota for our honeymoon.

            But it seemed that the minute we got into the car, things began to fall apart.  On the road, a car of drunken men noticed the decorations on our car and attempted to sideswipe us.  By the grace of God, we weren't killed.

            The following morning, Larry woke up, sat on the edge of the bed and began to sneeze, blow his nose and sneeze again.  This went on for nearly three hours.  Finally this new bride got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach and said, "Good grief, Larry, you're probably allergic to me!"  I was relieved to find out he was allergic to pollen, not to me.

            We had a four-day, beat-the-clock honeymoon in Winnipeg, Manitoba.  Then we returned to Sisseton and packed all of our wedding gifts in Larry's parents' attic for "a few weeks."  Little did I realize that I wouldn't unpack most of them for 14 years!  These days I tell my daughters, LaShawn and LaDawn, "You'll have some nice keepsakes that Daddy and I received for our wedding because we haven't been home long enough to unpack and use them."

            Five days after we were married, Larry and I moved into a back room of an old Flexible bus.  But after living in that old beater, with no air conditioning or bathroom, we learned we were pretty "flexible" to survive in it!  There we were, newlyweds, living in an old bus with Lowell and Connie Lundstrom and their two children, Londa and Lisa.  Privacy was at a minimum-we had curtains for doors.

            After six days on the road, the bus engine blew up, forcing us to move into an old, borrowed car.  The back right door was bashed in and a broken window had been temporarily repaired with cardboard and plastic.  The snow and cold blew in through the door and window.  There we were, the six of us plus clothes, guitars, diaper bags and bottles, all packed into an old car and pulling a small instrument trailer.

            Then we went on tour to Kansas.  Our finances were very limited, so on the way we rented a motel room, with two beds for all of us.  I can still remember Larry and me kneeling by our bed to pray and Lowell, Connie and their children kneeling by their bed two feet away.  As we crawled into bed, the past two weeks of our "perfect" marriage flashed in front of my mind.  Then I thought of a conversation that Mom and I had before the wedding.

            Mom told me seriously, "Missy, you know you'll be moving into a new lifestyle.  You'll be giving up your single life and making your own decisions to begin making decisions together with your husband.  You'll be moving into a bus with four others with little or no privacy.  Remember, with that come different personalities.  Everyone will have days of discouragement and things will go wrong.  Let me give you some good advice:  Think before you talk and learn to keep your mouth shut.

            19 years after that, during a visit with my mother, I said to her, "Mother, you never told me how many 'one of those days' I'd have!"  She laughed.  "Well, Missy, that's just part of life.  You've made it this far, and you'll continue to make it."

            My mother is a wonderful Christian who has dedicated her life to intercessory prayer and has the gift of encouragement.  Over the years, when tough times would come, Mother would say, "Missy, you'll make it!"  Those positive words kept me going.

            If there has ever been a time in our lives-yours as well-that we need to hear the words, "You can make it," it's now.  All of us need the confidence of God's help in our marriages, homes, jobs and relationships.

            Larry and I don't have a "perfect" marriage, but we do have a "tried and tested," happy, working and successful marriage.  If you feel that your marriage is more tested than triumphant, let's pray right now for God to give you the faith to believe that He will bring changes in your relationship:

            Dear Heavenly Father, right now I confess I have felt strain in our marriage, and I also confess my faith that with Your love and guidance, my relationship with my mate can be rebuilt.  I rebuke Satan for discouraging me.  In the name of Jesus, I command Satan to take his hands off of our marriage.  Lord, I rededicate myself to You-and to my mate-asking You to give me a new love, more patience and a willingness to change and be changed.  Lord, please conform me to Your image so that my ways will be Your ways, my love will be Your love, my words will be Your words, and my actions will be Your actions.  Create in me a new heart in which You can abide.  In Jesus' name, Amen!