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Young Love (#125)

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April, 2017:

As a new month opens, I’m eagerly looking forward to a trip to join daughter Linnea and her family in their Florida home. Five grandchildren await me there, and renewing relationships with them will be pure pleasure.

A special treat will be taking granddaughter Emerald along with me this time, giving her a chance to play with some of the cousins she loves that are usually hundreds of miles away.

Meg plus 6       (l. to r. – Autumn, Emerald, Micah, Grandma holding Nelson, Skylar, Isaac)

As a result of all this excitement, I’ll be pausing the “Young Love” blog for a couple of weeks, but before I sign off, let’s find out if Meg’s bridal gown was ready or not….

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Friday, November 28, 1969

As I burst through the doors of the bridal shop in search of my wedding gown, several sales ladies saw my stressed expression and jumped into action. “Miss Johnson?” they said. “Your lovely gown is all ready.”

And I could finally exhale.

cookiesOne of the women headed to the back of the store while the others fell all over each other making apologies, offering me coffee and cookies, doing their best to smooth things over while I waited. It had been so long since I’d seen my dress, I wondered if I’d even recognize it.

Finally the lady returned with my satin gown draped gracefully over both of her arms as if she was showing it off for the first time. “What an exquisite choice you made,” she said, in an emotional, breathy voice. “It’s stunning. We want you to try it on, just to be sure it’s perfect.”

I was frantic to get back on the road, knowing the route to church was a 50 minute ride without traffic. And now a full-fledged Friday rush hour was in progress.

Garment bag“I don’t have time,” I said, taking a quick glance at the dress, which looked familiar. “Could you put it in a bag or something?”

“Yes, of course! But are you sure you don’t want to try it on? We’d all love to see you in it.”

In an irritated tone I said, “If I don’t leave right now, I’m going to be late for my own wedding rehearsal! Just pack it up, would you?”

Reaching the car, I tossed the bag-with-gown into the back seat and pointed the car toward the city. But just as I feared, traffic was stop-start, and my foot was on the brake more than the gas. I was going to be late by over an hour – and there was nothing to do about it.

Picturing 50 people impatiently tapping their toes at the front of the church without any sign of a bride made my eyes prickle with tears. Would they worry that I’d been in an accident? Or a break-down? Would they think I was late on purpose? And worse yet, what about my poor groom? Would he think I was having second thoughts…. again?

trafficThere was no way to contact any of them. Even if I got off the road and found a phone booth, what number would I call? There was no phone at the front of Moody Church’s massive sanctuary, and the church offices were closed. All I could do was grip the steering wheel…. and bawl my eyes out.

“My problems go from bad to worse. Oh [Lord], save me from them all!” (Psalm 25:17)

Young Love (#87)

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September 3, 1969

 

As Nate and I were unloading in Champaign, Mom and Dad were loading up back home, but their good deed hit a road block — literally. The two of them had driven to a friend’s house to borrow a giant van on our behalf, and Mom (who said she’d driven since the age of 12 and had a spotless record) took the wheel. Dad followed in the car.

Before Mom got to the end of the block, she’d had an accident, scraping the side of a car parked in the street. It belonged to a neighbor’s guest, and Mom felt terrible. When she got out to inspect the van, she felt even worse. She’d nailed two-for-one.

The neighbors quickly called the police, and when all was said and done, Mom had added a moving violation to the morning, making it three-for-one.

Both endsI’m not sure what Dad said at the time, but my guess is that the words “dollars and cents” came out, along with “burning the candle at both ends.” I think Dad knew (being married to Mom) that even though he’d just retired at  70, putting his feet up someplace wasn’t in the cards.

Promising to get everything fixed when they returned from hauling our things to Champaign, they drove out of the neighborhood and proceeded as planned, picking up what would become our apartment stove and other “recycled” furniture items. Together they drove the 156 mile route, and we welcomed them with a tour of our 3 rooms and a well-earned cup of coffee. They only stayed a few minutes, though, and climbed right back into the van to head home, rounding out the day at 355 miles.

WhoopsLate that night, Mom wrote of her remorse in her diary. The pages that followed detailed further frustration at having to take the borrowed van to a body shop on three different occasions before they finally got it right. As for poor Dad, his insurance and checkbook took a healthy hit (van, car, and ticket), making him wonder if he shouldn’t have just shipped the items professionally.

Down in Champaign, though, we were jubilant over our good fortune as the apartment began to feel homey. And it got even better. Nate’s parents phoned to tell us that a small but brand new refrigerator was on its way!

When it arrived, we were speechless. It wasn’t small at all but a full-size Kelvinator. The senior Nymans insisted they’d ordered and paid for only a small one and tried repeatedly to straighten it out with the Champaign appliance store. We, too, made several attempts to get them to pick it up. In the end, they said, “Oh, just keep it,” and we used that beautiful ‘fridge for 23 years.

Stove and fridgeWith all this good fortune coming our way, Nate and I decided to celebrate by buying a few practical orange items to enhance our tiny kitchenette.

After that, the only thing missing was someone who knew how to cook.

“Let all that I am praise the Lord; may I never forget the good things he does for me.” (Psalm 103:2)

Young Love (#70)

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As I was buying a bus ticket for my trip to Nate’s cadet graduation at Ft. Riley, he was sitting with pen and paper, contemplating his last letter to me before we would be together for good. He put a great deal of thought into his last written words and decided to detail what life would be like for me, once I became his wife.

As he let his mind wander into our future together, he wrote down a string of beautiful promises any young bride would find exhilarating. His letter is quoted in its entirety below. Please excuse one reference to “passionate physical love.” I considered leaving it out (since this is a G-rated blog) but that seemed wrong. After all, Nate was a hearty young man of 23, and he was just being honest.

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July 22, 1969 – Dearest Meg.

You wrote in your last letter that I complimented you frequently. I love to say sweet, good things about you, to you, because my love is a prism which receives the white light of your beauty, intelligence and spirituality, and resolves it into a million radiant shades of other virtues. My love made me cognizant of the superb qualities you have. I thank the Lord every day several times for you and the complete reciprocity of your love.

Nate's last letterI will always love, care for, protect, and guide you. I’ll be a strong shoulder to cry on and will help with pain, help to rejoice, to wait on you, bring you oranges for your breakfast in bed, make passionate physical love to you for your satisfaction and mine, buy you anniversary, birthday, Christmas presents, presents for all occasions and non-occasions, compliment you, praise you, read the Bible and secular books to you, play music, feed you grapes, carry you to bed, rub your back, bring you chocolate, make you hot cocoa, and bite your ears.

I’ll pray for you and with you, worship with you, attend prayer meeting with you. I’ll enjoy our relatives with you. I’ll help you with our babies in every way from holding your hands in parturition* to telling teenage daughters when they can date. I’ll be your man, lover, husband – unified in Christ with you.

Love, forever and ever, Nate

* the process of bringing forth young

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Greeting card, outsideGreeting card, insideNate’s letter, written with eloquence and thoughtfulness, was in sharp contrast to what I’d done. My “grand finale” had been to send 10 humorous greeting cards.

 

His sent one significant page, the result of serious reflection on what unconditional love for his future wife ought to look like. And he didn’t stop there.

As he wrote, he made a personal pledge to do all 33 of those things for/to/with me after we became husband and wife. He was a man who believed that marriage promises were to be kept, and he fully intended to follow through exactly as Scripture instructed in Numbers 30:2. “When a man makes a vow to the Lord or takes an oath to obligate himself by a pledge, he must not break his word but must do everything he said.” (Numbers 30:2)

As I prepared to marry Nate, I had nowhere near the understanding of marriage that he had… nor the depth of commitment. But I would soon learn.

“Let us pursue what makes for… mutual upbuilding.” (Romans 14:19)