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In 1955 a movie was released called, “Love Is a Many Splendored Thing”.  It starred William Holden and Jennifer Jones. I’ve never seen it, but I have heard the title song from that movie many times over the years.

Seemingly, as I was growing up, it popped up often in a movie or a TV show that had to do with a couple falling in love. Not surprisingly, it has been a well-known song for many years.

I have personally known love, and I know that it can be a “many splendored thing.” I also know, for many people, it can be a “many splintered thing.” The reasons are many and putting the blame on any one thing is not truly possible.  It also leaves out a lot of the complexities that a marriage relationship goes through as it eventually comes to an end.

In my younger years, after having had many successful years in marriage, my late wife and I had a discussion once about why we thought our marriage was going so well.  Being good Christians at the time, saying it was all because of God would have been an obvious thing, so that was a given.

As we talked on, we came upon the conclusion that, whatever it was, couples who are having a difficult time both needed to stop being selfish jerks and that was about all we had to say about the subject. That was an overly simplistic idea.

Over the years, as my wife’s chronic illness got worse and worse and worse, love ended up being a many splintered thing for me.  Sounds horrible, I know, but if you’ve ever been a caregiver of a slowly dying spouse, you probably understand.  My whole world was consumed with caring for her ever-increasing needs.

I’d go to church without her sometimes because she wouldn’t be up to it. Well-meaning church friends would always ask how she was doing.  Never once did anyone ever ask me how I was doing. That was another splinter for me.

Not to “boo-hoo” about it, but frankly, I was drowning in the sea of growing grief, trying to keep my head above the water, as it were, continuing to care for her needs and care for our kids in their teen years.  I did a woefully inadequate job of all that, and now my kids no longer speak to me. I have two grandsons I’ve never met and likely never will at this point, as things are.

When my wife finally passed after months and years of pain and suffering, I felt a tremendous sense of joy. In part that she was not suffering anymore and was in heaven with Jesus, but also in part that I was finally free from having to deal with her illness. Problem is, by that time, the damage was done, and I was very messed up.

Not wanting to appear weak, I never sought help for it for several years. I pressed on as best I could.

Thinking I needed to find another wife as soon as possible, I started dating within just a few months.

Time after time, I got into relationships with women I had no business being with. I just wanted to be held, and they did too. The problem with entering relationships like that is that it serves to only cause more heartache and grief. 

Of course, I never considered what God wanted during this time. I was mad at Him for taking away the only person who ever cared about me and making her suffer so much during the process. 

I stopped caring at all about what He wanted.  Or anyone else for that matter. 

This is not a good way to live your life and was way out of character for me. Grief makes you do weird things.

I should have known better, too. I had been a pastor before. Twice to be exact. 

I worked at two different Christian Radio Stations that aired Bible teaching nearly 24/7. I had been a Christian most of my adult life and yet, not a bit of that prepared me for what I had endured during the 25 years I was married to Julie. 

Many would say that I wasn’t much of a Christian then. That’s OK. You aren’t me and, given the same set of circumstances with the same life and same upbringing I had, you’d have likely made the same mistakes too.

You see, Julie had been chronically ill for 20 of the 25 years we were married.  Technically, she died a month and a day before our 25th anniversary, but I’m counting it 25 anyway. 

For eight long years, I kept searching for another wife; dating just about anyone who came along. Some I didn’t even like, but to keep from being alone, I dated them anyway. Very stupid of me. 

In that time, I had sold my house, moved five times to be closer to a girlfriend, hoping that this time it would be different, meanwhile causing myself a great deal of financial ruin and all for trying to chase after the wind and grab onto something that wasn’t really mine to have.

After having so many years of heartbreak and loss; moving three more times, I gave up on ever finding someone again. 

Looking back during all those years, even though I was living like a heathen, I know that God never ever let me go.  All that time, even though I was mad at Him and wanting nothing to do with Him, He was still on my heart and mind.

I managed to attend church much of that time. There were a few months here and there that I didn’t, but overall, I still went.

After about five years in, I sought mental health treatment for a few months. It helped some, but mostly, I believe, it was God who helped me. I’m still not completely over it all, but He is still working on me.

The last time I moved, I decided to attend a Baptist Church a few blocks away from my apartment. As it turned out, I happened to know a few people who attended there. 

As I was talking to someone before the church service started, the sun reflected off the window of the front door of the church and I turned just as a woman walked it. I thought I knew her, but because of the obligatory mask she was wearing, I had mistaken her for someone else I had known in the past. 

By that time, she had seen that I was looking at her, so she came up and introduced herself.
I’m sure my jaw must have hit the floor when she said who she was, because it turned out that I DID know her. 

Elaine Guthals was a name I remembered from years ago. You see, she and my wife Julie had been friends back in college when we attended Lincoln Land Community College and we were all in choir together. 

It turns out she didn’t remember me, but oh well, I remembered her. Over the weeks that followed, we talked occasionally, and I had an opportunity to show her a picture of me from back when we were in choir together.  Then she remembered me.

Over the months, we got to know each other again and came to believe that it was God’s will that we be together. At this writing, I will be marrying this wonderful woman in five days (April 9). 

Everything I had been praying for during all these years is contained in her.  I cannot help but wonder if we’d have found each other sooner if I had done things God’s way sooner.  Based on what her story has been, I doubt it.  At the same time, I know in my heart that God’s way is always the best way.

Whether we think He is working in our lives or not, He is. 

There are so many more details I could write down here, but this is enough to tell the story. 

Love can be a many splendored thing, but not by our ways. Only by God’s way. We only need to pray, follow Him, and watch what He does.

One thing I have come to realize is the truth of 1 John 1: 9. “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (I Jn. 1: 9 ESV).

And, I’ve been hearing in my spirit for the last couple of years, “there’s blessings in obedience.” If you do a word study of obedience in the Bible, you will see there are quite a few places where God promises blessings if we are obedient to His commands. 

This is also very true. The more I followed God’s directions and commands, the more blessings came my way.  He is seldom early, but he is never late.  His blessings always have come exactly when I needed them.

I share this with you, because I want you to know, no matter how far away you’ve walked from God, all you need to do to get back to Him is simply turn around. The word repent means to turn away from sin. 

So, turn back to God. Repent. Ask Him for forgiveness and commit to living for Him again.  Then do it. 

I encourage you to read the Parable of the Prodigal Son, located at Luke 15:11-32.  This is what it is like when sinner repents and returns home.