She was barely 18 when I first noticed her. My memory is that it was in a cafeteria line, though there were other places across campus where our paths crossed as well.
There was no simple way to explain what it was that tugged me in her direction. But tugged I was.
Equal parts mystery and beauty.
In February of 1975, I risked rejection and asked. A date. A concert. An evening of conversation. A small corner of the mystery exposed, along with a full measure of beauty on display.
The math says it was 51 years ago. And now, the 18-year-old is turning 70. Tomorrow.
Two apartments and six houses later.
Three babies. Three weddings. Eleven grandchildren.
So much has changed. Yet the formula remains:
Equal parts mystery and beauty.
Mystery leads to adventure.
Beauty leads to gratitude.
How is it possible that so much has changed—and so much has stayed the same?
Ten days ago, at the wedding of a friend in Kansas City: BEAUTY.
Then, less than a week later, with three grandchildren at her side: MYSTERY and ADVENTURE.
Birds tucked among the branches of a Costa Rican tree. Nearly every discovery a grandchild makes is followed by the same declaration:
“Emmie!”
They want her attention. Her affirmation. Her delight.
Equal parts.
Mystery. Beauty.
Adventure. Gratitude.
She was 18 then.
She is 70 now.
The words apply to her walk with Jesus as well.
Beloved daughter. Beautiful soul.
Childlike delight and discovery.
Equal parts.
Infectious.
Splashing beauty wherever she can.
Inviting discovery.
Inquisitive.
Observant.
Spontaneous.
Aware.
Unhurried.
Dialed in.
Ecstatic.
“Emmie…”
Long before she was my date. Long before she was Mrs. Wolgemuth. Long before she was Mom. Long before she was Emmie, she was a masterpiece—designed by God for good works. Stewarding beauty, and exploring mystery.
His design. His idea. His plan.
For her. For us.
Elegant without pretense.
Mysterious without arrogance.
Contagious beauty.
Shared mystery.
Two pictures, taken only days apart, offer irrefutable evidence.
My companion.
My true companion.
Seventy years.
Still beautiful.
Forever mysterious.
My Mary.
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