We were at a wedding this weekend. “This dance is for all married couples.” So we dance. “Everyone married a year or less, step off the dance floor.” Then he goes to 5 years, then 10. Still a lot of couples. Then 15, 20, 25. A fair number are left.

I say to the King, “We’re going to be the last ones up here.”

And he says, “No way,” and begins to point out grayer men than he, older looking couples than us.

Thirty, 35, 40. Only 3 couples left, and we know one of them is at 41. He says 43. And we’re dancing alone.

When did that happen? That we’re the oldest couple on the dancefloor?

But, frankly, who cares. After 44 years, dancing together is as good as it ever was. By the grace of God we’ll be boogying in our 90’s.

Even to your old age, I am He, and even to hair white with age will I carry you. I have made, and I will bear; yes, I will carry and will save you. Isaiah 46:4