As Linnea came to terms with the troublesome reality that there was no money for a traditional wedding (yesterday’s post), Nate and I began wondering how and when (or even if) God might inject hope into our sad situation. Weddings cost thousands, and we didn’t even have one thousand to give them.

When Nate asked what a nice-but-not-lavish wedding might cost, I guessed. “Maybe $10,000?”

His face fell, and he said, “Impossible.”

But God has a reputation for accomplishing the impossible… with flare… so we dared to hope for that amount. The day after our tear-filled phone call with Linnea, the three of us connected again. Linnea remembers it this way:

“You called me back and said, ‘We’re hoping to give you $10,000. We don’t have that money right now, and we don’t know where it’s coming from, but we’re believing God will bring it to us for your wedding. So make your budget based on that’.”

News of their engagement began to spread to friends and relatives, and almost immediately God began accomplishing the impossible through loved ones.

Linnea’s grandma, my mother, called and said, “I’m so happy for her! I want to contribute a little something to wedding expenses, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer!” She mailed us a check for $1000, and all of a sudden we had a wedding account.

The next week a friend from my prayer group said, “I love to do the flowers for weddings, and I’d be honored if you’d let me do Linnea’s flowers at cost.” I was amazed.

Shortly after that, we opened a note from my Aunt Joyce (left) who lived on the other side of the country, and out fell a check for $1500! An attached Post-it said, “…for your wedding…with love.”

Then my husband received a letter from his bachelor brother who wrote, “I would guess that a wedding can be expensive. I hope the enclosed will help.”

Inside was a check for several thousand dollars! We were astounded. God had done exactly what the song said. He’d made a way where there had been none. But it got even better.

Not only had the Lord sent enough money for a lovely wedding, he’d also provided enough extra to rent five tuxedos for Linnea’s father and four brothers (below), and to buy two bridesmaids gowns for her younger sisters (also below), three gowns for the other bridesmaids, and even a new dress for me.

Linnea and Adam’s wedding turned out to be wonder-full for many reasons, not the least of which was how it strengthened our faith in God. In a most delightful way, he cemented the lesson that if we abandon ourselves to his plans, even when there’s absolutely no way, he can easily make one.

“The Lord is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him.” (Nahum 1:7)

Aug. 1-2, 1970

After Nate’s rough week with his rural paper route, we took a much-needed break over the weekend – not that there wouldn’t be plenty of studying for both of us and also the difficult weekend paper route. But we hoped to do two happy things: investigate new car possibilities and attend a party given by one of Nate’s law school buddies.

Dad had asked us to do some vehicle research, so we started with the dealerships in town. Since we didn’t have children, we thought it might be one last chance for a sports car and set out with that in mind.

We learned, however, that the only good lookin’ American sports car was the Corvette… way out of reach. Muscle cars abounded: Pontiac GTO, Chevy 409, Ford Thunderbolt, Chrysler Charger. But those had no appeal.

Finally one frustrated salesman said, “Why don’t you look for a foreign car. But be careful. Most shops won’t work on them, since they need European tools and stuff like that.”

When we tried to follow up on his suggestion, all we found was a VW dealer. The sales guy there told us about VW’s sporty Karmann Ghia but didn’t have one to show us. In another showroom, though, we found something that had instant appeal – a Fiat 1245 Spider, made in Italy.

It was love at first sight. But we couldn’t even think about buying it till we sold the Mustang. We called Dad to say our research was complete and gave him the specifics, emphasizing that it was an economical car nothing like our other sports car, the Corvette.

He asked lots of questions, but the price seemed realistic to him, and he didn’t try to dissuade us. This was impressive from a man who had always and only bought American.

For him the main selling point was the Fiat’s excellent gas mileage. After all, gasoline had risen to 36 cents a gallon. “Just get busy and sell your Mustang,” he said. “Then we can move forward.”

That evening when we readied for the party, we were in good spirits. Nate’s old friend Bill from college grad school counseling days (now head resident at Bromley Hall) had invited a group of former counselors for a get-together in the dorm apartment.

It turned out to be a festive time reconnecting with many who had graduated and left the area. Although beer flowed and cigarette smoke filled the room, the conversations were fascinating – a patchwork quilt of what 20-somethings were thinking in 1970.

I spent a great deal of time with Bill’s beautiful dog, satisfying my longing for snuggle-time with Baron.

We knew we’d probably never see this group of pals again, so I brought my camera, inviting Nate to take pictures of everybody. And as always, he took a bunch of me.

“A friend loves at all times.” (Proverbs 17:17)