Category Archives: God’s plans for us

Newlywed Love (#34)

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February 17, 1970

NoteNate and I did a good job keeping track of each other. If either of us was planning to divert from our usual routine, we told the other ahead of time. If plans changed without advance notice, we’d leave notes.

Some of our friends thought that was “too confining,” though Nate and I saw it as simple courtesy. But this was just one of many points of disagreement we began having with some of the new friends we were making through the university.

As we got to know people, we would often share a meal during which a handful of us would round-table different ideas, sharing opinions. Inevitably, some of our discussions would become heated and uncomfortable.

Nate and I would talk privately afterwards, always stunned to see how radically different we and others thought. After all, the whole group had much in common. All of us were in our twenties. Many were in grad school, and quite a few were paired in couples – some married, some not.

And we were all sharing our young adulthood years during a time of sweeping societal upheaval. But opinions were swinging every which way. Morals were changing rapidly, and feminists were preaching a philosophy that confused both men and women.

Vietnam WarCollege students were rioting on campuses. People who’d been raised in churches were leaving them…. and leaving God. And for the very first time, we were watching a horrific war take place on our television sets.

Nate and I concluded that the diverse opinions we were hearing from our peers were the fallout from these many changes. As America began throwing away the traditions of her history, we and our friends were interpreting things in different ways.

There was, for example, talk of “open marriage.” The premise was that if a husband or wife met someone that caught their fancy, they were free to explore that relationship (even sexually) while remaining married. It would be just a dalliance, nothing permanent, and if both marriage partners understood this, no one would be hurt.

Students eat and talkNate and I were bewildered when others nodded in agreement, since we didn’t see how this could possibly work. When we asked what would happen if just one partner enjoyed frequent dalliances and the other felt left out or jealous, the consensus was that that person would be free to leave the marriage.

How could intelligent people, we wondered, think such crazy thoughts? As time went by, these debates left Nate and I feeling more empty and unsatisfied.

It finally occurred to us that the discussions we had in our couples Sunday school class were more rewarding than those with university pals. We concluded it was because Jesus and his Word were at the center, standing strong with a set of standards that didn’t blow with the wind or change with the culture.

From then on, Nate and I began choosing our friends more carefully. We were learning an important lesson: we could associate with all kinds of people, but our most fulfilling relationships would always be with other Christians.

IntertwinedWe learned that core beliefs control the way people think and act. When hearts and minds align on those, deep connections can be made that can’t be made when they refuse to line up. It was a meaningful discovery for us, and we were thankful anew for each other – and our shared beliefs.

 

“There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all, in all, and living through all.” (Ephesians 4:5-6)

Newlywed Love (#29)

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Newlywed Love (#29)

February 6, 1970

Nate and I had been married for 70 days when we hit some “white water rapids” in our adjustment to being husband and wife. Much like the misunderstanding that occurred when he bought the Christmas tree without me, this episode was similar. It was a minor disagreement related to how our varied upbringings had taught us differently — neither was right or wrong, just not the same.

As with the Christmas tree, my response was not to ask rational questions or use logic but to burst into tears.

I wasn’t weeping to manipulate Nate or get my way. That hadn’t even occurred to me. The crying was completely involuntary, and as always, I made no attempt to hold it back.

What I hadn’t considered was how upsetting my tears were to Nate, just as they had been in December. He immediately blamed himself for causing me to cry, which he saw as a catastrophe. This compounded the issue at hand and tipped the blame heavily in his direction. And that wasn’t right.

After our clash, we had restored our relationship quickly with lots of hugging and affirmations of love. But the next morning, as I tried to teach school, I was still bothered by my irrational tears and the extra stress they added to Nate.

I kept picturing his grief-stricken face as he tried to comfort me enough to stop my crying, and I felt terrible about it.

During my lunch break, I decided to write him a letter.

The only paper I had was a sheet of newsprint from my students’ art bin, but it was good enough. I wanted to reassure Nate of my unshakable love and also thank him for putting up with my tears. And I wanted him to know that my weeping wasn’t “the end of the world” as he seemed to think it was.

Letter.

I knew I couldn’t ask Nate to just get used to it, and I didn’t want him to go to the other extreme, disregarding my tears as insignificant. I loved when he comforted me. But I hoped he could learn not to see it as a disaster but just as one of the foibles of his bride.

I wanted him to know, in writing, how grateful I was for his patient, caring response to me the day before, and in a way, I wanted to apologize for upsetting him so much.

By writing a letter, I hoped to build up my young husband and sympathize with him for his having to accept me “as is.” And rather than hand it to him that evening, I decided to mail it – from Champaign to Champaign.

Envelope

That way the message would have greater impact than if I just said it out loud. He could read and re-read it, hopefully being uplifted each time.

I thought back to our pre-marriage days when both Nate and I had prepared for marriage by reading books about it. All the authors agreed that difficult challenges were sure to come, and we had said, “Oh, not with us.”

Now we were beginning to see what they meant.

“After you have suffered a little while, he will restore, support, and strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation.” (1 Peter 5:10)

Newlywed Love (#24)

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January 24-25, 1970

I had to hand it to Dad. Although he was born in 1899 and was two whole generations older than his children, he made every effort to understand them.

DadDad and I had a rocky relation- ship during my dating years, mostly about curfews and my choice of suitors. (It’s a wonder he didn’t kick me out of the house.) But beneath all that friction, I loved my father deeply and knew beyond all doubt he loved me, too. If I had a problem, I went to him first. Mom was always busy packing 48 hours of activity into 24, so slowing her down long enough for a serious talk wasn’t easy.

 

Dad, however, seemed to have time. If I presented a problem and asked his opinion, he didn’t shoot from the hip but gave careful thought to his answer. Even during the years when I was his problem child, he never brought up past skirmishes or held them against me.

And Dad never made sweeping judgments or labeled me – as “an irresponsible person” or “someone unable to make good decisions,” even when those things were true. And he never once pointed out the difficulty I was causing him. No matter what happened between us, he faithfully hoped for the best about me.

When Nate and I needed a second car (and need was the operative word), he wholeheartedly volunteered to help…. not just with the shopping but with finances, too.

A loving fatherHe believed in the value of education and was proud of his new son-in-law for pursuing a law degree, despite Nate’s temporary inability to provide financially for his wife. And Dad saw that facilitating a second car would be both an encouragement and a help.

After my Friday evaluation day at McKinley School, I packed a small bag, and Nate took me to the train station. Not satisfied with just waving goodbye, he came on the train with me, making sure I was seated in a safe place and then lifting my bag to the high rack. It was hard for both of us to say goodbye, but the delicious kisses helped.

The Illinois Central took me from Champaign to Chicago, and the subway from the Loop to the city’s northern border. From there I took the “L” train to Wilmette, where Dad was waiting at the end of the line. We walked into the house around 11:00 PM and found Mom happily preparing root beer floats to go with her cheerful welcome.

While enjoying our treat, Dad and I circled several used car ads in the Yellow Pages and mapped out a route for the next day. And when my head hit the pillow, my thoughts were of convertibles and four-on-the-floor.

The following morning Dad and I set off in a blizzard with high hopes. And sure enough, after slogging through heavy slush and brushing snow off scores of cars to see them better, we chose one:

Mustang.An all-black 1965 Mustang with red leather interior! (example, right)

 

 

It was 5 years old but had low miles, and both Dad and I were pleased. I knew Nate would like its classy good looks, and my driving buddies would be happy not to have any more carpool emergencies — like when it was my turn to drive but Nate needed his car.

I couldn’t wait to show my husband! It wasn’t a convertible like my first two cars, but it definitely had some “cool.”

“Seek [the Lord’s] will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” (Proverbs 3:6)