Category Archives: God’s plans for us

Young Love (#80)

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Swimming poolChoosing places to live, one for each of us, was going to be simple compared to finding a teaching position. So we tackled that happy chore first, quickly narrowing it down to two finalists. One apartment was in a large complex of several hundred units and was only two years old. Best of all, there was a big swimming pool in the middle. The apartment lacked personality and was small, but there were lots of other students renting there… and that beautiful pool!

620 Healey St.The other was a third-floor walkup in a very old brick building. It had glass-paned doors between the rooms, a cute step into the bathroom, built-in glass-front cabinets, leaded windows, and best of all, a wood-burning fireplace. For both of us, it was no contest. We chose the walkup and were given the good news that it was available immediately.

As for a job, my meeting at the Champaign Board of Education started happy but ended sad. The interviewer told me I wouldn’t have any trouble getting a teaching position based on my two years of experience in the Chicago Public Schools, but then he asked why I had left Chicago.

I told him I was about to marry a grad student at the U of I and would be moving just in time for the start of the academic year. That’s when his face fell. “Oh.” he said. “I’m so sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we have a policy against hiring spouses of students. They come and then they quickly go, and it makes for a very unstable teaching staff. You won’t be able to teach in this district or anywhere nearby.”

I was pretty sure I heard a door slam and wondered why God would bring us this far and then say “no way.” So I asked a question.

“Well – would you have any advice for me?”

“The only thing I can suggest is looking in other towns away from the Champaign/Urbana area… that is if you don’t mind a long commute. Do you have a car?”

I thought about our Corvette and the variety of crises it seemed to attract, knowing I probably couldn’t count on it for a long daily drive. But Nate had his VW, so I answered with a yes.

The interviewer pushed a paper across his polished desktop and said, “Call these schools. Last I heard, there were still a few openings.” I thanked him and reminded myself how much I loved road trips.

MapWhen I reconnected with Nate, he was eager to report he’d found a room near the university with a cheap month-to-month rent that would work until we married. He comforted me about my disappointment at the Board of Ed but agreed we should investigate the outlying schools.

The closest one was in Danville, 40 miles away. An 80-mile round trip each day would be a commitment of time, gas money, and wear and tear on a car. So he asked how badly I wanted to teach, and after I said “a lot,” he urged me to call.

When I did, I was greeted with a good-news-bad-news situation.

“You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.” (Psalm 139:5)

Young Love (#79)

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August 10-17, 1969

 

Racing through the first week of August and into the second reinforced to Nate and I that we needed to get to Champaign to work on those two important decisions: an apartment for me, which would become our apartment together after November 29… and a job.

City of ChampaignI still held out hope for a teaching position rather than settling for low-paying work I didn’t like. My two years teaching kindergarten in Chicago had been pure joy, and I’d loved my young students like they were my own. But I didn’t even know what day Champaign kids were scheduled to start school — much less have any “in” at the Board of Ed.

Nate’s law classes would resume in September, and he needed to find a place to rent, just for the 3 months before our wedding. We were still determined to wait until after we were married before living together and knew we would fail if we tried to use the same space as platonic roommates.

Just then, as we were making a new list, I got a bad sore throat, earache, and fever. Relatives from New York arrived that day, and Mom suggested we all head for the summer cottage in Michigan… and the beach. Nate surrounded his sick fiancée with tender loving care, insisting on a visit to a Michigan doctor, who prescribed antibiotics. Two days later I was feeling better, and we were back at my apartment, reading encouraging mail from Aunt Joyce:

Aunt Joyce“I’m so glad you and Nate have included the Lord in your relationship. He is the key ingredient to marriage stability, and keeping your love alive and enduring when you face the verities of life on earth. I’m thrilled to know you are putting the emphasis on the Lord Himself, and I’m so excited and happy for you! We are all excited!”

As we drove to Champaign on August 14, we prayed that God would open doors and show us what to do at every decision point. We were at a significant threshold in our lives and didn’t want to make a misstep. And we wanted our bottom line to be exactly as Aunt Joyce had written it: putting the emphasis on the Lord Himself. That was the only way to insure we wouldn’t go wrong.

7 Eleven storeOur first stop was at a Champaign 7-Eleven where we bought a local newspaper and got a dollar’s worth of dimes to start calling on apartment rentals. We used the pay phone outside the store to begin investigating, along with the phone booth’s dangling book of yellow pages to contact the local Board of Education.

After a couple of hours, we had lined up 4 apartments to see the next day and made an interview appointment for a teaching position. But those “verities of life on earth?” We were about to connect with a big one.

“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is.” (Romans 12:2)

Young Love (#76)

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August 1, 1969

Inch by inch Mom was releasing her hold on “708,” as she referred to her old home. Gradually she was stepping away from the happiness she and her family knew while living at that address, but she needed one more visit for two reasons:

  1. Many remaining items from their garage sale a week earlier were still stashed in the garages and basements of neighbors’ homes and needed to be dealt with.
  2. My brother, Tom, had prearranged a political meeting at 708 for a man who was running for Congress.

TomTom (left) had worked hard on this candidate’s campaign and had scheduled the event many weeks before the house sold. No one had expected it to sell as fast as it did.

 

 

RallyAlthough the rally was landing on the same day as the new owners would be moving in, they agreed to let Tom (and Mom) host the event in the back yard, a gracious gift. The newspaper had publicized the event as an opportunity for university students to join the candidate’s team, and Tom would be leading the charge.

Meanwhile, Mom busied herself collecting her garage sale possessions, hosting the sale “Part 2” in the next-door-neighbor’s driveway. And of course, as the day unfolded, she ended up inside her old house, helping the new family with whatever she could. She had done a good job readying the home for its new occupants, and her diary comment was, “708 SPOTLESS.”

Spotless“Going home” is satisfying for most of us, and after moving from a beloved house, going home to a different one can be unsettling. All of us can testify to running errands in the weeks after a move and automatically ending up on the route to our old address rather than the new house. There comes a day, though, when the transition must be made, even if we have to concentrate hard to get it done.

Tom’s rally was a success with about 50 attendees, and the candidate was appreciative. Mom’s garage sale succeeded, too, and as she hauled the remaining items away, she left 708 for good. Once she made up her mind that she had really moved out, it took only 3 days before a very special note popped up in her diary. They had been out to dinner, after which she wrote: “…and then to our new home, which we LOVE!”

In the end, Mom and Dad lived in their smaller home for more than 30 years, and Mom never loved any home more than that one.

“The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.” (Psalm 16:6)