Young Love (#110)

Posted on March 17, 2017 by Margaret

November 5, 1969

As Nate and I sat next to each other, my crying gradually tapered off and finally stopped. But we sat there a long time. He softly spoke words of loving commitment to me but promised we wouldn’t marry unless I was completely sure. I couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been for him to speak those words. He was all-in, and I had one foot out the door.

Listening carefully, I did hear his pledge of unwavering love, but the massive wave of doubt that had washed over me had nothing to do with that. I’d never questioned the sincerity and depth of his love. As he continued to talk, though, I focused on something else he said, something that was far more important at the moment.

What I had heard was that he’d given me complete freedom to leave the relationship, if that’s what I wanted. Rather than trying to convince me to stay, he had opened the door. He was telling me I could exit without any misgivings.

I thought of how Christ-like that was. Jesus loves us but never forces us to love back. We can walk away if we want.

It was Nate’s willingness to let me walk away that began my turn back toward him. In my heart I knew that I sincerely loved him and that if I walked away, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

By the time we got up from our chairs, worn out from the ordeal, I had recommitted to him…. and to marrying on November 29.

“You have comforted me by speaking so kindly to me.” (Ruth 2:13)

Young Love (#99)

Posted on March 6, 2017 by Margaret

October 22, 1969

Once the Corvette had been sold, Nate and I began the juggling act of sharing one vehicle. Although I needed it to carpool to school, my friend Judy drove every other week — freeing Nate’s VW half the time. When I had the car, he walked or ran the 2 miles to campus for his law classes. Both of us hoped a second car would come along soon.

But there was another dilemma. Since Nate was still leaving the apartment each night to sleep in his rented room, I was left without a vehicle overnight. This bothered him a immensely. On the weekends I drove him home, then returned to the apartment, which meant I had a car overnight in case of emergency but had to walk into our building alone, after midnight – which bothered Nate even more.

Then something happened that worsened everything. We had bought some curtains for the front window of our apartment, and one night very late, long after Nate had gone, I decided to hang them.

Standing on the radiator at the base of the window, I was sliding the fabric onto the curtain rod when a car full of rowdy young men pulled by in the street below. Their loud radio and boisterous voices could be heard even through my closed window.

Watching them stop directly in front of our building, I suddenly felt very vulnerable. And realizing my entire profile was visible through the window, I quickly hopped down and stepped to the side. As I did, I saw 4 guys get out of the car and head toward our building’s front door. Residential lobbies weren’t locked in those days, especially those not in big cities, and anyone could walk in and climb the stairs.

That’s when I heard their deep voices laughing and shouting…. and coming closer. They were coming up the steps.

Not knowing what to do and feeling defenseless, I quietly put the curtain and its rod on the floor and tip-toed toward the door to be sure it was locked. As I got there and put my hand on the knob, what sounded like a big fist banged hard on the door, making the whole thing vibrate.

Thankfully it was locked, but I didn’t have the courage to set the chain. They were only inches away from me outside the door, and I didn’t want them to hear fear. As I stood frozen to the floor, one of them said, “Hey! Open up in there! We have a nice surprise for you!”

I didn’t respond but was sure they heard my heart pummeling my chest. “We’re going around presenting married couples with a special gift and just want to drop yours off.”

I was shaking all over and knew they were checking to see if I had a man with me. If Nate had been there, he would have already called the police, but that didn’t occur to me. I felt that if I left my post at the door, somehow they would get in…. a foolish idea, born of panic.

As I saw them try the doorknob, a horrifying thought swept through me. We had a back door too, and maybe the group at the front was just distracting me while someone else was quietly stealing up the back. Even worse, I knew that that door was unlocked. We left it open as we came and went throughout each day, and I usually locked it just before going to bed.

(…to be continued)

“God has not given us a spirit of fear…. but of a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7)

Young Love (#86)

Posted on January 30, 2017 by Margaret

September 1, 1969

Nate and I were getting closer to the start of a new school year in Champaign – him is law school, me as a teacher. After a double birthday party in Wilmette for my brother Tom and our Dad, the next event was seeing Tom off to college in the East. He had transferred from Wheaton to American University and would be driving to Washington DC the day after his party. We wouldn’t see him again until Thanksgiving.

Mom was clearly having trouble letting go – her baby, a first son, the boy who’d arrived after doctors said “no more,” the child born on her husband’s 50^th birthday. Her words were that Tom wasn’t ready to launch, but the truth? She wasn’t ready.

Tom was thrilled to be spreading his wings. After a breakfast together, we waved him off, and I wondered how Mom would cope. When he’d been a Wheaton student, she’d made frequent visits to his campus 25 miles from home. She would do his laundry, bring his favorite foods, drive him home for weekends – in other words, continue as a strong presence. Now there would be 1000 miles between them, and it was a blow to her.

I didn’t understand that at all. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have anything to do.

She was the every-week organist at Moody Church (two Sunday services, Wednesday prayer meetings, Thursday choir practices). She ran 4 children’s choirs. She cooked dinner at the church for over 100 people every week and taught a Sunday school class of high school girls (left). She hosted a young people’s Bible study at her house.

The church was 45 minutes from home, but that didn’t stop her from driving there repeatedly each week to practice on the 4-keyboard organ, nor did it keep her from attending many other church meetings – such as Missionaides, a group that sewed for missionaries. Each week en route to that, she’d pick up a crowd of elderly ladies who wanted to go but didn’t drive.

She accompanied at scores of weddings and funerals, entertained weekly at home, welcomed youth groups for their socials (right), and spent time memorizing entire books of the Bible. (That was why she kept pages of Scripture rubber-banded to her steering wheel.)

Mom was also managing the redecorating of their new home, painting every room herself. She was shopping for carpeting, drapes, appliances, and furniture with the goal of having it all in place before our November wedding.

Oh… and she was planning that wedding. With everything else going on, it had sunk to the bottom of her long list, and as it turned out, mine, too. Nate and I were on the verge of moving out of town when it finally dawned on me why my parents had wanted us to wait a year before getting married. But it was too late to worry about that now.

Next on our agenda was to load up again, clock those 156 miles back to Champaign, unload (with law school friends, left), and prepare for a new school year.