Covenant. Commitment. These are words we share in the Christian church, and in the Christian marriage. And sometimes, as a time of remembrance and renewal, couples will recite their wedding vows again to each other . . . as a sign that “what was true then is still true now.” Perhaps even more so.
There is a story told about “two dogs” which battle within us. Some say it’s an Indian legend . . . some say it’s an old fable told long ago . . . but the story makes the rounds, and also makes a lot of sense. As the story goes, when a youngster comes to the old sage leader and asks why he feels so angry at unfair treatment, the older one explains, “It is as if there are two dogs inside of you. One is always good, peaceful, and loyal.
If you have had the chance to watch any of the 2026 Olympic Winter Games in Milan-Cortina, you have seen both the “thrill of victory” and the “agony of defeat.” I can only imagine what the athletes have thought and felt when extremely narrow margins have determined the outcomes of these competitions. The excitement of watching the performances of the individuals and the teams has included seeing how years of training has paid off in strong finishes or unexpected losses . . . It’s all been inspirational, and challenges me to put some of this in writing as I ponder what we can observe in the Olympics concerning the past, present, and future.
Because I enjoy reading biographies, on this Presidents’ Day it should not surprise you that I would want to look a bit at Abraham Lincoln and George Washington—and especially at the role of their marriages in their presidencies. They stand at sharp contrast to one another in terms of the personalities of their wives and the harmony in their households.
Would you agree that during the challenges of wartime deployment we need hope? “. . . those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:31). Hope is going to keep us going. It’s the fuel in our tanks that we must not allow to go empty. But what is our hope in?
Valentine's Day has its challenges and opportunities during deployment, so I want to share with you a tender (yet powerful) story of a young Christian couple who kept their marriage strong and vibrant during World War II. Married for two days, they were separated by active duty for three and a half years (he on the front lines in Germany and she serving in the Pacific, in Papua New Guinea). When I met them in 1990, they had been married for almost fifty years. They went on, from that point, to live and love together another 10 years before he passed away. Recently I sat down with Louise, nwng with her daughter and son-in-law, and recorded her story.
Editor's Note: This week marks the 83rd anniversary of the sinking of the U.S.A.T. Dorchester. In memory of these heroic chaplains, and other crew members on board, we re-post this article. The story of the four heroic chaplains was one my husband and I had recently studied and even included in a new Bible study. Perhaps you know about Reverend Clark Poling, Rabbi Alexander Goode, Father John Washington, and Reverend George Fox—but if not, let me share this amazing story.
We had many “hellos” and “good-byes” during our military days—with plenty of TDYs, deployments, training, exercises, and the Vietnam War. The “good-byes” were always difficult (understatement) . . . and the “hellos” were always glorious. Whether we were parting for a day, a week, a month or a year I always tried to stick by the training I got from that one book and that one wives’ meeting.
I attended a retreat at which the speaker introduced us to teaching on “Praying for Your Husband from Head to Toe.” Being a visual-type person, it intrigued me to think that I could move in thought from my husband’s head down to my husband’s feet and pray for his mind, eyes, ears, nose, mouth, bones, heart, hands, legs and feet. I believe that the same can be used by you husbands to pray for your wife.
We gathered for Bible study, but our friend's face was downcast . . . a sure sign that his soul was, too. We knew he was dealing with marital problems, but there was also the pressure of an impending deployment. All of this weighing on his heart, his future—his now. It’s hard to know what to say sometimes—most of the time, really. So I said something scriptural that I don’t even remember, then added something like “God knows what you are going through and He is with you”. I followed the simple truth with a smile, and then closed with “but you already know that.” I guess I expected my smile to be returned with his smile—an understanding between us that I was just trying to do my best to help, but failing. But that’s not what happened. Instead he said with emphasis, “I do already know that. But I need to be reminded. Thank you.” I got the distinct impression that he really meant it.