We sat there all day, my man and I, in our den-turned-office, across from one another at our new partner’s desk. He was doing phoning and planning; I was setting up social media, and working through correspondence. We alternated between constructive conversation and companionable silence, and during the latter, I would sneak glances at him with his cheaters perched on his nose, and his silver curls glistening in the window light.

I had been in the same position before, some 28 years ago. His hair was a dark brown, and mine, an honest version of the same color. We were babies, really. Babies with a baby of our own, sleeping down the hall, as we sat across from each other at our wood-grained Formica-topped dining room table. He was a new agent for a big insurance company, and I was his trusty sidekick, helping finish applications, stuffing envelopes, or typing letters on my equally trusty Brother typewriter from college. Together, we worked to build his business from our modest first home, enduring very lean times to realize the blessing of prosperous ones.

Eventually (some 10 years later), he made a transition into management with the same company, and my role changed. Something akin to “First Lady,” I turned into a hostess, welcoming throngs of people into our homes (each a little larger with subsequent moves), and set about fostering continuity and camaraderie within each office. While there were many wonderful times, there were also some incredible challenges. Truly, things happened I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but my man persevered and I followed.

It’s now almost 20 years later, and we’ve transitioned again. He’s an agent once more, still with the same company.  A “district” agent, he basically has the best of both worlds, as he mentors and manages a group of agents he’s hired, and works with clients, as well. This was always the goal, but it’s especially sweet to have achieved it.

I look around at our current home (perhaps my favorite of them all), and smile at the realization that it is not that much bigger than that first house. There are no babies down the hall right now, but when there are, they are grandbabies.

I’ve heard the saying all my life…

“What goes around comes around.”

But I’m living it now.

It’s another day, and I look up, right now, and see that man of mine on the other side of the desk, thrilling at the notion that we have come full circle. Unbidden, another saying pops into my head. A rhyme, really…

“‘Round and ’round and ’round we go…where we’ll stop, nobody knows.”

That’s true; we don’t know, but God does, and that’s okay with me. I do know one thing, though.

No matter where we stop, it’ll be together.

“But Ruth said, “Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. ¹⁷ Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.” Ruth 1:16-17 ESV