God was good to us on July 21, 2007. That’s when Katy Mills became Katy Nyman by marrying our Hans, and today is her birthday. The Youth With A Mission “match factory” produced another marriage made in heaven for our family as Hans and Katy left their homelands (US and UK) for a six month missions project initiated in New Zealand. God brought them from opposite sides of the world to the bottom of the globe to find each other.

Since the time our children were little, I’ve prayed for their future mates who were simultaneously being raised elsewhere. I prayed for godly upbringings, loving family relationships, commitments to Christ at young ages, protection from life-scars and many other goodies. As I prayed for Hans and his eventual wife, God had his eyes on Katy. Somehow, in a way beyond my understanding, he applied my prayers to her life on the other side of an ocean, and when we met her, we were looking at God’s faithful answer.

Katy and Hans were married in Macclesfield, England, in a 400 year old cathedral-style church just outside the city of Manchester. Although Hans was sure beyond all doubt Katy was “the one” before we even met her, we seconded that vote as we got acquainted from afar. There were pictures, emails, videos, letters, and at long last, a visit when we got to put our arms around the real girl.

Katy has a sparkling personality that attracts others and makes them feel included. With a spirit of optimism and joy, she’s captivated us all. As Hans aptly described her after catching a glimpse of her at an airport gate, “There she was, in all her colorfulness!” Now that we’ve gotten to know her, we understand he meant not just her cheery exterior but her delightful inner persona, too.

Katy has a natural beauty that enables her to “get ready” in a few quick minutes, a young husband’s dream. She’s also an excellent cook and has pulled Hans into meal preparation to the point where I’ve overheard them discussing the benefits of different spices, and I don’t mean salt and pepper. “It’s like art,” Hans told me, “bringing a meal to the table in a joint effort.” This is one of the many gifts Katy has shared with our son.

Giving birth to Nicholas Nyman a year ago, a little guy who looks just like her, is a blessing that benefits us all. And I’ll never forget the day Nate and I, with Linnea, were driving home from yet another radiation treatment, feeling dispirited. The cell phone rang at an opportune moment, bringing Hans and Katy into the car all the way from England. Together they announced they were expecting twins! Our gasps and squeals banished gloom from the car as we received the bright news that two more little Nymans were being readied to join the family. And as for coping with twins, Linnea put it well that day when she said, “If anybody can handle it, Katy can!”

The most significant part of our daughter-in-law, though, is her deep faith in Jesus Christ. I remember trudging upstairs with an armload of clean laundry on a discouraging day in October, when all the medical news was bad. Hearing soft voices in the next room, I peeked through the open door. There sat Katy and Hans, knee-to-knee, heads bowed, deep in prayer. For a Christian parent, there is no greater happiness.

”I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” (3 John 4)

“Those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

Nate loved language. He read the dictionary for pleasure and used seventy-five cent words in everyday conversation. He was my personal walking, talking lexicon, and I loved asking him, “What’s that word? What does it mean?”

My husband never met a word he didn’t like. If he heard something new, he’d do exactly as all the grade school teachers instructed: use it in a sentence. One try at that and it was his forever. I recall the first time I ever asked him a word question. We were newlyweds, and he was in law school. When he referred to “becoming an attorney,” I asked, “What’s the difference between an attorney and a lawyer?”

“Nothing,” he said with a smile. “But that was a really cute question.” (Spoken like a man in love.) That was the start of forty years of word questions from me to him. Thankfully, he never criticized me for so much not-knowing.

In high school, Nate was the captain of the debate team (second from left), propelling his classmates to excellence and a case full of trophies. Words were important, and he made it his business to learn all he could. As he studied the dictionary, he underlined words he needed to come back to, and made tiny notes in the margins. He memorized definitions, then quizzed himself year after year to be sure it all stuck.

He didn’t only enjoy English, though. He knew a smattering of all the romance languages and also Latin, the source of many English words. He also minored in college Russian and spoke it fluently. He used to say, “No, not fluently…” but whenever he ran into a native Russian, the two of them got lost in animated conversations the rest of us didn’t understand. One waitress and one hair cutter were particularly entranced by his interest in their language and loved to see him coming.

The other day as I was reading a morning devotional book, I came across a word I didn’t know and was frustrated I couldn’t just holler into the next room, “Nate, what does ‘abrogated’ mean?” Instead I had to go to the dictionary, a boring alternative to asking him . (It means to nullify or do away with something.)

I never really appreciated Nate’s massive vocabulary skills, at least not until now when I find myself hunting through the dictionary. He had a fantastic memory and seemed never to forget what he’d learned. We all looked up to him for his intelligence, and I don’t think I ever asked a question for which he didn’t supply the answer.

(But lest I give the impression he was perfect, he did destroy a toilet bowl trying to get rusted bolts loose with a hammer.)

We all have strengths and weaknesses. Nate took advantage of his love affair with words by studying them and quizzing himself over and over. Language is important, and words run the world. But there are words, and then there is The Word, God’s definitive Word on all matters. Thankfully none of us needs an extensive vocabulary or a grasp on foreign language to be schooled by Scripture. The words on its pages concern matters of the heart, and since we all have one of those, its promises and words of eternal hope are meant for us all. To take full advantage of them, we don’t even need a dictionary.

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.” (Psalm 119:105)
[Jesus said,] “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” (Matthew 24:35)

All of us can get selfish in a hurry, and in marriage, we get there twice as fast, expecting our mates to think just like we do. Actually, we want them to become exactly like us.

One slice of married life in which the me-monster can raise its hideous head is in our gift-giving to each other. As is true with most wives and husbands, anniversaries, birthdays and holidays are a reason to shop for, purchase and wrap up something special for our mates. We think ahead to the grand opening and the pleasure on a true love’s face when he or she discovers what’s inside.

Nate and I were no different, trying our best to please each other with small gifts. I remember the year he gave me a pretty wine-colored fountain pen. It had a white star on the tip, which meant nothing to me, but later I learned it was a Mont Blanc pen for which he paid $400. The only trouble was, I didn’t like fountain pens. They made splotches on the paper and their writing tips had to be periodically cleaned. They ran out of ink quickly and had to be refilled from a bottle, a messy, finger-staining process.

I thanked Nate lovingly, as if a fountain pen had been at the top of my wish list, then put it in the back of a drawer. When he wondered where it was and why I wasn’t using it, the ugly truth came out. He was disappointed, and I felt badly, but it was Nate who had the pen collection, not me.

I didn’t do much better in my gifting him. One year I arranged for his initials to be carved into a crystal paperweight. It would look dramatic on his desk and be dazzling when the sun hit it. His response included a smile and a thank you, but I could see I’d missed the mark. In actuality, it was me who had the glass collection and loved the paperweight.

Fifteen years later, we were chatting over a restaurant dinner when we learned we’d been giving gifts we’d wanted to receive. We laughed hard recounting some of our self-love gifts to each other, like the syrupy, romantic movies I’d given Nate, and the chocolates he’d given me when I was dieting. After that it was easy to give presents that were genuinely appreciated by first studying the other person’s likes and then choosing accordingly.

Both of us should have known this, since we’d memorized The Golden Rule in Sunday school. In other words, if I would delight in a glass-gift to add to my collection, I should know enough to give Nate a pen-gift for his collection, rather than a piece of glass.

When I was a teen, mom told me she was still learning new things about dad, to whom she’d been married for twenty years. At the time, I thought that was nonsense. After being married a while, I got it.

But there was one more step after learning something new about Nate. If I discounted it as unimportant because I didn’t feel the same as he did, the me-monster was still in charge. But when I set aside my opinion to honor Nate, our marriage moved up a notch on the happiness meter.

For example, I used to be frustrated when Nate would interrupt my report of the day with, “Bottom line?”

He meant, how about leaping over all those unnecessary words and giving me the end of the story. For me, the fun was in the telling. I used to think, “I know it’s hard for him to listen so long, but once he knows the details, he’ll be glad he heard them.” It was a shock to learn that wasn’t actually true. But the big question then was, how long did it take me to do what he wanted, to set aside the words and simply give him the bottom line? About fifteen years.

When love is in the house, it shouldn’t take that long.

“Do to others whatever you would like them to do to you. This is the essence of all that is taught in the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 7:12)