Category Archives: Hearing from God

Young Love (#102)

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October 26, 1969

 

As Nate and I drove back to Champaign from Wilmette, we needed to make a decision about my safety in the apartment. Living alone until we were married had left me vulnerable when several young men had attempted to break in. Nate expressed extreme concern, telling me it was his job to protect me. But neither of us knew how to fix the problem.

One bedHe could move in with me, but both of us knew we wouldn’t be able to resist each other physically, especially since we only had one bed – the one that pulled out of a closet. And we both wanted to hold out until we were married (which was already difficult enough). To compromise after we’d come this far seemed like too big a defeat.

As the miles clicked away, we discussed our options:

  1. Nate could move in with me, and we could try to maintain purity.
  2. We could continue to live separately and hope no further incidents occurred.
  3. I could advertise for a roommate on the university bulletin board (for one month).
  4. We could trust God to protect me.
  5. I could be more diligent about locking both locks on both doors.

The thought of option #1 brought immediate comfort to both of us. But to do that was to make a decision based on the fear something bad was going to happen. I liked the sound of #4. If I continued to live alone, counting on God to protect me as he already had, we could also count on him protecting our desire to wait for sex till marriage.

I said, “After all, those guys didn’t get in. And I wasn’t hurt.”

“Yes, but you were hurt emotionally.” Nate said. “Both of us were.”

“But, I know God will heal all of that.” I said. “He will.”

“But what if something else happens? And what if God chooses not to step in? I would feel like it was my fault…. again.”

“I guess we have to believe that if that ever happened, he’d walk us through a recovery then, too.”

Besides, it wasn’t just in the apartment that bad things could happen. And it wasn’t just to me. Nate could become a victim, too. There were no guarantees about safety.

DowntownWhen we pulled up to our apartment, we were still hashing it out. After making multiple trips up the stairs with our gift boxes, we finally sat down and looked at each other. The time had come to decide. I felt completely bonded to Nate and knew he would do anything to keep me from suffering in any way. But as I studied his face, I could see he was going to let me make the final decision.

In the end, I opted for a combo of numbers 2, 4, and 5. We would continue living separately, relying on God for protection (wherever we were), and would be more diligent about locking doors.

When Nate finally drove away that night, for the first time I thought it best not to stand in front of the window and wave.

“The Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one.” (2 Thessalonians 3:3)

Young Love (#101)

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October 24 – 26, 1969

As Nate and I struggled to make a wise choice on the heels of the attempted break-in, our calendars told us it was time to drive to Wilmette for my second bridal shower. This was a welcome change from all the negatives we’d been talking about, and we decided to postpone our decision about where Nate would spend his nights — at least for now.

InvitationThe wedding invitations had arrived but were sitting in boxes, unaddressed – and we were about a month from the wedding. Our plan was to get going on those, along with anything else Mom might want us to do.

She had written earlier, asking what kind of stamps we wanted on the invitations. In those days there was no such thing as a “love stamp,” but we did have several to choose from: the moon landing, a spray of pink flowers, a muscle car, and a cardinal. Then there was Mom’s up-and-away favorite, former President Eisenhower.

Ike.She’d written, “The P.O. puts new stamps out periodically, but personally, ‘I like Ike!’ He’s smiling because Nathan loves Margaret, and Meg loves Nate.” We liked her logic and joined her in voting for Ike.

When we arrived in Wilmette, my folks’ home was in complete disarray. The remodeling crew had torn their kitchen to the studs that very day, relocating its contents to the living room. We could barely squeeze into the house, and I wondered how Mom was holding up under this added inconvenience.

When we finally found her, she was sorting wedding music under the grand piano. Smiling broadly when she saw us, she told us how “absolutely thrilled” she was with the kitchen. “Finally!” she said. “Things are really moving now!”

JohnnyNate and I decided to take the invitations elsewhere – where we could spread out the project and leave it set up until finished. I called Aunt Agnes in the next suburb, Evanston, and asked if we could bunk with her over the weekend. She welcomed us gladly, and that first night we stayed up past 2:00 AM putting the first dent in a very long list. Aunt Agnes kept us going with coffee and ice cream, and of course we took time out to watch her favorite show, Johnny Carson.

Bridal showerTP brideThe bridal shower on Saturday was an extravaganza with 73 guests and just about as many gifts. Their generosity literally moved us from mis- matched hand-me-downs to the lovely look of fresh-and-new. And in case I still needed a wedding gown, they modeled several I could choose from – created with flowing TP.

 
After the shower it was back to our invitations. I wrote addresses, Nate stuffed envelopes, and Aunt Agnes fueled the whole operation with sandwiches, doughnuts, and bottomless cups of her delicious percolated coffee.

On Sunday Dad told me he hadn’t forgotten about our need for a second car and had been keeping his eyes on the want-ads. Apparently brother Tom needed a car, too, so Dad was doing double duty. Bervin had joined in on the car project, for which we were thankful. He knew best of anyone how to analyze what was under the hood.

As we drove back to Champaign Sunday evening, our little VW was crammed with gifts – on the floor, in the back seat, on my lap, at my feet, and piled tight against the hatchback window. We were a blessed couple indeed, and I couldn’t wait to bring such bounty into our fairly empty apartment. Although we didn’t have furniture in which to put our things, it would be a joy just stacking those beautiful boxes along the wall.

As the 150 miles flew by on our drive south, both of us knew it was time to talk again about my safety in the apartment…. and where Nate would sleep, starting with that very night.

“Now then, my children, listen to me…. Listen to my instruction and be wise; do not disregard it.” (Proverbs 8:32-33)

Young Love (#89)

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September 8-14, 1969
Over the weekend, Nate and I began hunting for a Bible-believing church to become a part of while living in Champaign. He’d been attending worship services on campus during the previous year, but this time we wanted a family-oriented atmosphere that wasn’t all college students.

The first Sunday we attended a Baptist church near our apartment and immediately felt at home. When the senior pastor made an effort to personally welcome us, we were hooked.

The best thing about church, though, wasn’t the pastor or the music but the challenging discussions that happened in our young couples Sunday school class. And of course the subject of sex came up frequently.

Free loveIt was 1969, the year of Woodstock, and “free love” was all around us — even in the university friendships Nate and I were beginning to make. The maxim of the day was, “Make love not war.” But in our couples class, we were learning how to do life God’s way…. which was the opposite of what the culture was telling us. He wanted couples to save sex for marriage and had some good reasons for it.

 

The trouble was, Nate and I were both at the apartment every day, every evening, and often well into the night with endless hours of study. We ate our meals there and relished the together-time after our long-distance history.

Besides, his dorm-style room near campus was sterile and lonely. It seemed silly for him to “go home” in the wee hours of the morning, then return for breakfast. But as hard as we tried to line up what we wanted with what God wanted, we couldn’t do it. It would have to be one or the other – our way or his. And we wanted to deliberately make a decision rather than let it happen by default. We knew if we surrendered Nate’s room and decided to live together, the decision would make itself.

Occasionally we prayed about all this, asking God what we should do. Of course that was ridiculous, because he’d already told us. But he also knew we were trying to step in his direction. So just when our resolve was weakening, he sent us some practical help – a letter from my aunt/mentor in California. She was responding to a letter I’d written her, full of wedding details.

“Dear Margee and Nate. Thanks for the exciting, informative letter. I’ve read and re-read it. I’m trying to place you each day to pray God’s hand of guidance and love over you both. What a rapturous time for you, all joys multiplied because of your oneness in Him! Keep Him in control, and all will be well.”

But that wasn’t all. She wrote, “I should write and remind your Mom…” and I wondered what she meant. But then she explained.

Youthful Aunt Joyce.Back when she was engaged (left), her fiancée (eventually my uncle) bought a home for them well ahead of their marriage. Aunt Joyce lived there by herself for many weeks before the wedding, while Uncle Edward lived nearby. They had battled temptation, too, but had remained faithful to God’s desire that they wait.

Apparently Mom had been stressing to Aunt Joyce about the temptations going on in our Champaign apartment, although she and we had never discussed it.

As always, Aunt Joyce was the voice of reason, calming Mom and calming us, too, with the story of her own experience. Then her letter said, “When we look forward to God’s best for us, we will not be so tempted to take ‘second best’ by not waiting for His time of consummation and approval.”

And then she wrote, “Do you know I love you?”

Question

And because she was willing to risk offending us to deliver a difficult message, we knew she did…. and that God did, too.

“Speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in all aspects into Him.” (Ephesians 4:15)