As this time of reflection on the past comes to an end, I have seen again that I have much for which to be thankful.
God has given to me far beyond what I deserve, in terms of friends, family, and especially my co-laborer in this life, Hope.
May He grant us another 25 years of continued blessing.
Picture taken on June 5, 2007.
Deciding where to go for a honeymoon was, in some ways, the most difficult decision of the entire wedding. Most of my friends opted for the commercial, entertainment package. DisneyWorld, a Caribbean cruise, or the beach seemed to be what everyone did. That just did not seem to be the right choice for us. Plus, it had to be a surprise for the bride, right? This was where the new husband was to demonstrate just how well he was attentive to the desires of his new bride; this was where he needed to choose a vehicle to demonstrate his service and love to her.
I was in a quandary for months. I just couldn’t seem to figure this one out. Then one day while browsing in a bookstore, one of my favorite activities, I happened across a book called Very Special Places. I forked over the ten dollars for the book, and it was the best ten dollars I ever spent.
On page 52, I found the perfect place. Picture this: Vermont, in the Spring, in the mountains, an old restored inn, full of history, character, and beauty. I made the reservations.
Grafton, Vermont was the perfect beginning to our marriage. It was a place of solitude and quietness. It was a place to experience the beauty of God’s creation. It was a place to curl up for hours with a good book. It was a place to walk hand in hand with your best friend through beautiful woods and streams. It was a place never to be forgotten.
The choice of that place and the time spent there set the tone for every time of family refreshment and recreation since. We desire to choose things that are instructive, refreshing, and filled with purpose, as opposed to things that entertain and have little or no purpose. That does cut against the grain of many today, but what a difference it makes in family dynamics and in our one of our goals as Christians to redeem our time.
The Inn at Grafton, Vermont.
Hope at a restored flour mill on one of the local rivers.
Vermont is full of streams and brooks. One morning I got up early and caught some trout in the stream behind the inn.
This place was such a blessing to us we returned a year later for another visit.
The reception following the wedding was, in some ways, a surreal experience. There were a lot of people and there was a lot of activity. I am grateful to those who shared in our happiness and blessed us with their presence.
It was a delight for me to have 3 grandparents in attendance. Here is a picture of them with my parents and brother.
At the reception, Hope and I exchange a glance.
Here are my father’s parents, who in many ways represented to Hope and me the biblical model of a marriage.
25 years ago today my beloved bride and I were married.
Our wedding ceremony was a wonderful experience. It had meaning and purpose, it was grounded in God’s Word, and it was overseen by mature men. Listening to it 25 years later, there’s not much I would change given the chance to do it again.
Before the actual ceremony, I gave a mini-concert as part of the prelude (sample).
Hope begins to walk down the center aisle. Click here to listen to the processional.
John Stevey and Neal Clarke officiated the wedding. Words cannot express the gratitude Hope and I have for the effort they placed into the wedding ceremony, the counsel they gave to us, and their example in living.
The ceremony continues…
The opening Scriptures and prayer.
Charge to the husband, wife, and witnesses.
The vows (pastor to James, pastor to Hope, James to Hope, Hope to James).
As part of the ceremony, Hope and I played a piano duet of Saviour, Like a Shepherd Lead Us. Click here to listen.
Final charge to the new couple and closing prayer.
Reminiscing about these things brings to mind this passage of Scripture:
Ephesians 5:25 Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it;
26 That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word,
27 That he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish.
28 So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies. He that loveth his wife loveth himself.
29 For no man ever yet hated his own flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the church:
30 For we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones.
31 For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh.
32 This is a great mystery: but I speak concerning Christ and the church.
I am grateful for the bride given to me by the Lord.
Here is some commentary on our 25th wedding anniversary from Hope, from a Mom’s Point of View.
The church where Hope and I were married, located in Nyack, NY, was part of the Christian and Missionary Alliance denomination, and was known as Simpson Memorial Church.
I have some good memories of this church. While there were several not so good cultural influences present, this church was made up of some wonderful saints that benefited me greatly in those years.
It was here that I first heard men like Ravi Zacharias preach. I first heard of A.W. Tozer from this pulpit. It was here that I first realized that Bach was more appropriate music for worship than the mediocre contemporary stuff of the day. It was here that the pastor urged me on to a high standard of worship and music, counseling me not to follow the fads of the cultural church. It was here that I personally met many missionaries who were taking the gospel to the ends of the earth, some of them eventually giving their lives in the effort. It was here that I cut my musical teeth, and developed my musical skills that have lasted me many years. I found out that my aunt and uncle were the first couple ever married in that building many years before.
And along with all those things above, this is where my bride and I pledged our vows, exchanged our rings, and gave testimony to those present that it was God who brought us together.
From the very first conversation I had with Hope I knew that she had a very special relationship with father, Roland Paul. She loved to be with her father, she was under his authority, and she desired to please him. She was very much Daddy’s little girl, and she was the apple of his eye.
I clearly remember that day when I asked this man for the hand of his daughter. To say I was nervous would be a big understatement. How was I going to live up to the standard of this man? How could I convince him that I could? What was I going to say? What would he say? On and on the questions rolled through my mind.
Looking back, I don’t know why I was so worried. This man treated me like and loved me as a son. He was so gracious in not only giving his permission for marriage but his blessing.
The Lord saw fit to take this man from us while we were expecting our second child. From my perspective it was too soon. I miss his presence, his kindness, his service, his humor, and his counsel. The Lord knows best and I rest in His sovereign will, but I do miss him. As much as I miss him, so does his daughter, my wife, who really misses her Daddy.
Behind the house where I grew up was a stream named Tiorati Brook. The area surrounding this brook was a boy’s paradise. There were woods to explore, trees to climb, and the stream to fish and swim. Many times I would catch crayfish, bugs, salmanders, frogs, snakes, and anything else that moved. The woods surrounding the stream was abundant in wildlife, especially birds. On more than one occassion I remember our family rescuing baby wild animals (such as raccoons) from these woods. I am grateful for the desire and sacrifice of my parents, especially my mother, in the providing to me of such a place as this in which to grow up.
As I grew older I found out that the stream originated from Tiorati Lake, several miles away. I began to spend time at the lake. Frequently I would take a rowboat to the lake and be out fishing before dawn.
This place became a haven of rest for me. It was a place to unwind, a place to meditate, and a place to see firsthand the beauty of God’s creation. It was my secret place where I could be alone, where my thoughts were free to roam, where I could dream my dreams and visualize my visions. Rarely was my solitude interrupted by someone else; it was that remote and secluded, plus I went there when no one else did.
Soon after meeting Hope, I took her to Tiorati Lake, and shared with her this place that meant so much to me. She shared in the delight of this place, just as I had done those many years.
It was at a remote corner of this lake, on a late September afternoon in 1981, that I proposed to my sweetheart, she accepted, and we pledged ourselves to each other for life. In one sense, our wedding was just a formality to the commitment we made to each other that day.
Lake Tiorati
About the time I was engaged to Hope, I took her to a place where a certain thing of significance occurred on a regular basis. It was my intent to let her know that to be a good wife, she had to place the same importance on this that I did. We had to be in agreement about it.
The item of importance was a place called Hoyers, and the significant thing they did was to serve the best ice cream on the planet.
Many were the days when my father, driving us home from evening church, would take the longer route along the river that just happened to go right by Hoyers, and invariably we would stop for ice cream. Many were the times, after I was driving and returning home from work in New York City, that I would also take the longer route and make the same stop.
Where else could one find ice cream such as this? Not Breyers, not Blue Bell, not Ben and Jerry’s. Braums is just a faint imitation. Marble Slab? Not even close. Only Hoyers had soft black raspberry ice cream, along with all the other excellent flavors, with enough fat content to harden the arteries of the best athlete.
I needn’t have worried. Hope loved this place as much as I did. It eventually became a place of legend in our family, so much so, that when on vacation in New York 18 years later, we went hundreds of miles out of our way to visit one more time.
Below are more pictures during the time of our engagement in late 1981 and early 1982.
I grew up in the town of Stony Point, New York. It is an historical town that had a revolutionary war battle made somewhat famous by a story written by Teddy Roosevelt entitled The Storming of Stony Point.
The Bear Mountain Bridge, just north of the Stony Point battlefield, located a few miles from where I grew up.
The battlefield.
Looking south towards the Hudson River Valley from the highest point in the battlefield.
Autumn in New York. This picture was taken in the fall of 1981, right after Hope and I were engaged.
We attended the Columbus Day Parade in New York City in October of 1981.
Prior to being married, I spent a good deal of time in New York City working for an elevator company. During part of that time I had the privilege of working with my father as he taught me about elevator construction and maintenance. One thing I learned about my Dad during that time was that he was no respecter of persons when it came to the gospel. He lived and spoke the gospel to everyone, and over 25 years later, he continues to do the same. I literally lost track of the number of times a coworker or some other family acquaintance would take me aside and tell me how much they appreciated my father, and the common reason from all of them was his Christian testimony.
I am thankful that I had the blessing of my father and mother in the choice of a wife, helper, and co-laborer.
These are my parents, at a surprise birthday party we threw for my mother in December of 1981.
This the picture we used to announce our engagement.
Other than official engagement and wedding photographs, this was the last picture taken of us before we were married. This was taken in Berachah Hall, on the Nyack College campus.
