Tag: Love

Another Year

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“Most important of all, continue to show deep love for each other, for love covers a multitude of sins.” 1 Peter 4:8 (NLT)

Each year (or at the end of December) I begin to look back and take stock of what has happened.

This is true for this year also, only this year, my thoughts have gone farther back. This week my thoughts have been occupied about this week fifty years ago. Yes, I know that seems like a very long time ago, and no, I was not a child. I was 19 (well, I guess I could have been considered a child).

Fifty years ago today Dale and I went to pick up a U-Haul truck that my Dad had to sign for us to rent. We picked it up and together my Dad and I talked to each other on the way home. It was really the last long conversation I had with him as a single lady.

Fifty years ago tomorrow was our rehearsal dinner. I jokingly asked Dale today if I should make a dinner tomorrow evening. It was a specific menu. He just looked at me and asked why I would do that. I reminded him that it was our rehearsal dinner meal.

Our fiftieth anniversary is Saturday. We woke up to a blizzard. Summer tires on his car. Snowballs thrown at us, accidents holding our band up, knee deep snow, so many stories and memories. One of my aunts gave us three months tops to be married. I guess we proved her wrong. This is a season of big celebrations. In November Dale turned 70. This Saturday we will be married 50 years, and in February I will join the 70’s club.

As I look back on what has seemed at times only a short time, I cannot believe we have gotten to this point. I don’t feel old. I don’t feel like we have been married 50 years.

A happy marriage is a long conversation which always seems too short. Andre Maurois

On the whole, we have had a good life together. We have grown up together. We have had great seasons and hard seasons. Life goes by swiftly and at times it drags. I am thankful for what we have had. I am thankful for our Lord who has held us together and lifted us up many times.

I would say, may we have another 50 years together, but I really can’t see either of us hanging on that long!

So, here is to our life together, 12 homes, lived in 12 different cities, two children, 6 dogs, 3 hamsters, 1 guinea pig, several gold fish, and our neighbor’s cat that lives at our house. 2 son in laws that are loved like sons, 2 grandchildren, 2 bonus grandchildren and 3 bonus great grandchildren. Not a bad life at all. Happy Anniversary Dale!

Purpose

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I am in the middle of doing a Bible study. It’s just a three week study, nothing major, especially from me.

The first week focused on prayer. This weeks’ theme will be purpose. The reason things were/are done.

As I went to sleep last night this scripture came into my mind. It’s not one I often think of. “Precious in the sight of the Lord Is the death of His saints.” Psalm 116:15 (NKJ)

I pondered on it a few minutes and fell asleep.

This morning as I was half awake and thinking I had slept the morning away, my phone rang. It was our pastor. He called to tell me that a dear friend of ours had a heart attack and he was on the way to the emergency room. We got up and dressed and decided to stay put until we heard more information.

More information came quickly. Our friend moved to Heaven this morning. Trying to define the words to describe the emotions we have fail me. Mostly I am concerned for his wife and daughters and granddaughters. I wasn’t going to write anything as writing usually garners remarks to me and that is not my desire or purpose.

Purpose, there’s that word again. A few minutes ago, I asked God what the purpose was. This was too abrupt, too shocking. I wanted answers. Personally, I cannot wait to move to Heaven.

There, in the deep part of my being, I was assured that our friend’s purpose was completed. He had fought the good fight, he had stood his ground with the enemy of our souls. Most of all, He has loved the Lord our God with his whole being. He served our God with joy, laughter, integrity, and warmth.

So many lives have been touched by him. He always made me laugh. His laughter was contagious. Now he is laughing with our Lord.

I am now challenged to serve my purpose here with as much joy as he did. Please, pray for this family.

Going at the Speed of Life

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“A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.” John 10:10 (MSG)

Last week Dale and I went over to Gatlinburg, TN. We both needed a get away time and it proved to be just what we needed. We didn’t do a lot of the touristy things, except for browsing in the shops, which is always relaxing to me.

One day we drove to an area called Cades Cove. We spent most of the day driving through the area. The Smoky Mountains are gorgeous in this area. I started to take pictures, in which I usually fail majorly. I had the idea to take a close up photo of the area right outside my window.

This was supposed to be a great picture of part of a fence and as you can see, it’s just a blur.

I was about to delete this when I hesitated. It was like I heard, “Isn’t this like your life? You quickly drive by and miss the details.” Ouch! True, but ouch!

I kept the photo and I started to think about the picture and my life and the way I view it.

Today I was looking through old pictures. Most of ours are in boxes and in no particular order. But, as I looked at the pictures, some faded from time, some blurry (I wonder who took those?) and all of them jogging memories of places and people and seasons of my life.

I surprised myself at knowing when (not the date) they were taken. I remembered birthday parties at our favorite Italian restaurant when the kids were small. There were plenty of pictures of tents and camping. Some pictures Dale would have a sweatshirt on and then I would see the same sweatshirt on me. Throughout, the pictures of our daughters, babies, prom pictures, smiling, goofing off and glaring at the camera. There were a great deal of all emotions from them.

I have had a great life. We have lived several places, and in a different country. I have had experiences I never dreamed of growing up in Oil City, PA. Life has been good. Life has gone by quickly.

I have thought about going at the speed of life. Looking at memories, I see that for most of it, even though I was right there, it’s a blur.

This one is clear. The mountains fade into a mist. Behind that mist are more mountains. They remain in place even though they are not visible. The same is true of the memories of life. They are a constant in my memory. They are not always visible, but they remain hidden by a mist of life.

I will keep taking pictures. Some will turn out and some will be blurry. But, I have a feeling that now, instead of harshly critiquing my skill and deleting, I will remember that I tend to speed by my life and miss out on details.

Women at the V.A.

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Today I went with Dale for a couple appointments he had at the V.A.. It’s always an interesting time when we go.

Usually, I watch the veterans. Mostly men, older, although many young men are also there. I heard a few conversations between these men. One was talking about his Ranger training and as I turned to see who was talking, an older man limping down the hallway was doing the talking. To hear the stories and see the men is something that touches my heart deeply.

Today, though, my focus went to the wives. They accompanied their husbands. One who was waiting was deeply engrossed in a book. One led her husband up to the window and gently pushing him toward the window made a fairly loud comment to sign in there with a hand motion. She turned around and mouthed the words “He can’t hear a thing!” to others waiting for their turn in the audiology department. Others pointed directions, walked beside their spouse, gently holding onto hands and guiding their backs.

Yesterday was Memorial Day, a day to remember those who gave all in battle. The heroes that wrote checks to this country with their lives.

As I sat watching and thinking, it occurred to me what military spouses have given. In our youth we waited through deployments. We learned how to maintain vehicles, fix lawn mowers, fix wobbly doors. We were the ones to kill spiders, bugs, and chase off snakes. We were Mommy and Daddy. We kept moving through exhaustion and wrote letters at night that didn’t mention that part of life. We had to think of morale. Our deployed husbands didn’t need to hear of half a problem solved, they needed to know that things were under control. They needed to know the kids were well, the bills were paid, the car was running, the lawn was mowed. There was no e-mail. No video calls. No photos instantly sent.

The women at the V.A. today were in that group. We did without. We made do. We prayed for wisdom, we prayed for safety, we prayed for sanity. And today as I watched these incredible women, it occurred to me that we are still doing that. Supporting our men, watching them, waiting for them, being there. The toughest job in the military? The military spouse.

Those We Grow Up With

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“I could never love anyone as I love my sisters.” —Little Women film adaptation (1994)

I am a middle child of three. My sisters and I raised one another. It was our life and it was our normal. We have wonderful memories of the years we grew up together.

Yes we fought as sisters do. We laughed and were silly at times. We had inside jokes that we can still recall. We would sneak each other’s clothes, make-up and sometimes shoes.

My younger sister and I would play with the ‘grown up ‘ things of our older sister, her long gloves, her eye shadows. We looked at her prom dresses.

I married in 1975 and moved away. I missed decades with my sisters. Life with them was long distanced. I couldn’t do much at all. Snail mail was our only connection, except on weekends when rates were cheaper for long distance calls.

Email, text messages, cell phones have changed that. It’s wonderful. We all live apart from one another. Different states in different parts of the country is not how we dreamed it would be. We thought we would marry and live on the southside of our town, within walking distance. I often wonder how that would have been.

There are conversations we have where you feel a part of what they are doing. When my younger sister is walking her dog, I have done that with her, both physically and while we are talking on the phone. Those times as she says she is in the car heading home, I almost want to say, well, what should we do for dinner? It seems so natural to continue.

Last night I had such a conversation. The kind where you go beyond relaying news and weather. The kind of conversation where you want to keep talking into the still hours of the night. Talking about everything under the sun and nothing at all.

As I climbed into bed last night I thanked God for the blessing of my sisters. I know they are always there and would do anything for each of us at the drop of a pin. But there are times when although the knowledge is there, a hunger for a hug and a squeeze is what is needed.

Psalm 139:13 says,”For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb.” (NKJV) This is one of my favorite scriptures. It reminds me that our Lord knows me intimately. As He formed me in my mother’s womb, He formed my sisters. He knows them intimately and He created us and put us together as family. His plan for us as sisters is still going on. Time, distance, life separates us, but the bond of being sisters is so much greater than all of that.

I am a middle child. I am blessed to be between two precious women. Thank you Jesus.

Marietta

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“But Ruth replied, “Don’t ask me to leave you and turn back. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you live, I will live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. 17 Wherever you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord punish me severely if I allow anything but death to separate us!” Ruth 1:16-17 (NLT)

Today a friend on facebook posted something about mother-in-laws. She went on to say that she loved her mother in law and considered her a friend.

This prompted me to think of my mother-in-law. Dale and I dated for three years, and were engaged for eleven more months before getting married. So, we have been together a long time.

At first, his mother was not too fond of me. We always say that was because I was a ‘city’ girl and Dale was a country boy she had her doubts. I know that really made no difference to his mom, but we tried to figure out why I was not liked right away.

Time did improve our relationship and by time that engagement ring was slipped onto my finger his Mom and I were friends. We were young when we got engaged. Young when we married. Yet, this woman accepted me and loved me.

Since she had no daughter and I had no mother, I invited her to be with me on many of the plans for our wedding. She actually picked out my wedding gown, which makes it even more special to me.

Through the years we laughed often. Got in trouble with our husbands a lot. Got lost together as neither of us has/had a keen sense of direction.

My memories of her are rich. I miss her mirthful laughter, it was almost musical. Her tenderness toward the Lord spoke volumes to me. She could not pray or talk about God without tears streaming down her cheeks.

I have often said I had three mothers growing up. My own Mother who brought me into the world and taught me the foundations of life. My older sister who guided me through my teen years (I personally think she had the hardest shift) and my mother in law who taught me how to be a wife and mother. My life is full and complete from these three women.

The verse above is how I felt about my mother in law. She was my own personal Naomi. Most women are blessed to have one mother who has nurtured and guided them, I had three.

The day after Dale and I married, we stopped to pick up our rental truck filled with my belongings and our wedding gifts. As we walked into her kitchen, she asked me to go to the basement with her. She had canned and made jam for us the previous fall and needed help carrying things upstairs. When we were alone in the basement, I hesitantly asked what I should call her as, up until that time she was Mrs.Thomas. Since we were both now Mrs. Thomas, I knew I could not continue to call her that. She looked at me, and said, “you can call me Marietta, or Etta, or (and she paused) you could call me Mom.” It had been almost 9 years since I had called anyone that name. I looked at her and said, “Okay, Mom.”

As we hugged good-bye to leave for our new life in Virginia, she squeezed me extra hard and that mother-daughter bond was formed.

It has been over thirty years since she passed, but today thoughts of her have flooded my mind. My life has been enriched by the woman who gave me her son.

Sunday Quiet

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“There remains therefore a rest for the people of God.” Hebrews 4:9 (NKJV)

It is late Sunday afternoon. Our day has gone well, up and out of the house in time for worship practice for Dale and then church.

Church was wonderful and we left refreshed from the service. We grabbed some lunch and headed home.

This is usually what our Sundays look like. Sundays are a quiet day, no unnecessary activity, just what is needed. Naps are often part of the afternoons, and Dale slept in his chair today while I walked.

As I walked, I thought about how quickly this summer has passed by. I complain about summer, I dread it’s beginning, I dislike the heat and the humidity and I dread the season. This afternoon it occurred to me that it really doesn’t last long, my attitude towards it lasts longer.

Seasons pass by too soon. Days also. It’s nice to take time once a week to slow down. It is on Sundays that I spend much of my time thinking. Yes, I am blessed by church services, by prayer through the morning, and conversations that I have. Then, at home I think of all my should haves and could haves. My why haven’t I accomplished this, or when are you going to do this?

I blame the quiet. It gives me time to think, to ponder and to comprehend how I feel about friends and family. Sundays are the days I allow myself to think about those who are dear to me. To recognize those homesick feelings for people who live away from me.

Yes, I am thankful for quiet days. I love Sundays. I feel challenged, though, as to how to communicate with family how much I care and love them. How my heart longs to talk uninterrupted and for length. Times and seasons pass, I need to learn to put into action how to communicate and spend the time with those I love.

Resident Aliens

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“We are strangers, we are aliens, we are not of this world” Petra

In early June of 1976 we boarded a plane at San Francisco International airport. We were heading to Japan. I had never taken an international trip before and had no idea what was in store for me. I was scared and apprehensive of what the next three years held for me. I was also excited for a new adventure with my husband of of 17 months. Together we found our seats, and buckled up for our trip.

Several hours later I looked out to see brilliant blue waters below me. We were descending to land. I looked over to Dale (my husband) and asked if we were there already. He smiled and said, “No dear, we are in Honolulu” . I had no idea that the flight would be so long. We had a 45 minute layover there and I said I wanted to breathe Hawaiian air. At that time we could get off the plane and go outside, no security checks, no TSA, just a terminal with doors to go through. We walked outside and smelled the fresh Hawaiian air. Something I thought I would never do. We came back inside and bought an ice cream bar from a vending machine. Vending machines were the only thing that was available, no restaurants like we have now. We got back to our seats ready for the next leg of our journey. That has been my only Hawaiian adventure.

The plane itself was filled mostly with military folks going to a new duty station. We were all young, early twenties and some ‘older folks’ who were in their thirties. There was a party atmosphere on the plane as one of the wineries in California had provided wine for the second leg of the trip. As we drew near to Japan airspace the crowd in the plane was in full tilt party mode. We had all had wine, we had a buffet, we were becoming friends.

It was a rainy evening when we touched down at Haneda airport in Tokyo. We taxied to a stop and the plane grew silent. We had landed and reality hit us all. We had filled out the forms for what we were bringing into the country, and we were ready to head to customs. At the door of the plane, I hesitated, afraid of the next step. Dale gave me a gentle nudge and I started down the stairs. We stood on the tarmac and looked at the signs. Both were in Kanji with English translation below. The first sign said ‘residents’ the second ‘aliens’. Everyone hesitated. Here we were aliens. We did not belong to this country. This was not our home. I will never forget that feeling. I knew I would be there for three years. The bottom line was I wanted to go home. I wanted to see my sisters. I needed to see them. I needed reassurance and hugs. Instead, my husband held out his hand and guided me into the terminal. The first step, done.

Obviously, we made it through customs and met our sponsor from the base who greeted us and got us to our final destination, Yokosuka. Our sponsor became a dear friend who got us settled and ready for what would become one of the greatest adventure of my life.

It was in Japan that I would become a born-again Christian. It was there that I began to realize that we are all aliens on this earth. Our true home for those of us who trust our Lord with our lives, is in Heaven. We are just passing through. We are resident aliens.

II Corinthians 5:1-5 says, “For instance, we know that when these bodies of ours are taken down like tents and folded away, they will be replaced by resurrection bodies in heaven—God-made, not handmade—and we’ll never have to relocate our “tents” again. Sometimes we can hardly wait to move—and so we cry out in frustration. Compared to what’s coming, living conditions around here seem like a stopover in an unfurnished shack, and we’re tired of it! We’ve been given a glimpse of the real thing, our true home, our resurrection bodies! The Spirit of God whets our appetite by giving us a taste of what’s ahead. He puts a little of heaven in our hearts so that we’ll never settle for less.” (the Message)