Category Archives: Life’s disappointments

Beach Bums No More

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IMG_4053Not a day goes by that I’m not grateful to live near Lake Michigan. Even on days when I don’t go to the beach, I can smell the lake’s fresh water and hear the music of its waves.

And with beach rocks all over the house (around clocks, picture frames, mirrors, and on door mats), my thoughts are never far from the shore. All my neighbors feel the same.

1951Mary, Tom, and I grew up spending summers on this same shoreline (left: 1951) and raised our collective brood of 17 children here. But the most authentic beach bums in the whole family have always been Mary and me.

Neither of our husbands enjoyed baking in the sun, and both were glad they didn’t have to — since Mary and I had each other to do that. Despite too much sun exposure (and the dermatologist bills to prove it), the gains have more than outweighed the losses.

Mary and I moved through 70 summers side-by-side, but then my beach buddy got terminal cancer. God graciously gave us one last summer together, though, before he carried her to heaven.

M & M.During that time we both understood that we wouldn’t be sitting on the sand together much longer, and Mary wanted to talk about it. The soothing sound of the waves made those difficult conversations easier as we faced the reality of what was just ahead.

And then… how well I remember the moment she let me know her beach days were over. Though it came as a shock, she did it gently. It was probably just as hard for her to say, as it was for me to hear.

We’d been to the beach the day before, and on this perfect weather-day we’d agreed to go again, around 2:00 PM. I drove the few blocks to her cottage to pick her up, since riding bikes was no longer an option. But when I got there, she was seated in a chair on the lawn, dressed in regular clothes.

“You know,” she said, “I think I’m going to skip the beach today. Is that OK with you? I’ve been thinking about taking a nap instead.” Not once in all the years had Mary every turned down an invitation to go to the beach.

We locked eyes and in that instant we both knew what she had just said – our beach-buddy days were over. “Sure, that’s fine,” I said, with a heavy ache growing inside. “A nap sounds like a good idea.”

I sat down next to her in the yard, and we talked for a few more minutes. She chose the topic: her own funeral. She’d always been a realist, and her practical side was eager to sort out the details.

After 20 minutes or so, she stood up slowly and said, “Well… I’m pretty tired, so I think I’ll go lie down for a little. Greet the beach for me!”

But the beach didn’t factor into my afternoon either. It would have been no fun at all without my beach buddy. Instead I just went home and cried.

(…to be continued.)

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you.” (Psalm 55:22)

The Way to a Wedding

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At my house we’re putting the finishing touches on plans for a wedding that will take place this August, when Louisa marries Teddy – our third family wedding in 12 months.

Nelson and Ann Sophie, wedding dayNelson married Ann Sophie last August in Hawaii (right), and Birgitta married Spencer last November in Iowa (below), which adds up to three.

If I count my brother’s son Charlie and his bride Larissa (married in May), my nephew Karl and his Cecilia (also in May), and Tom’s son Ben with his Amy (this July), the family wedding count rises to six – one every other month.

 

Iowa Bettis family.Weddings can be expensive, and it’s a pleasure to watch these “kids” make economical wedding decisions. But there’s one family wedding that takes the cake in the budgeting department.

Our daughter Linnea met Adam (below) when both were serving in Youth With A Mission. Love blossomed, and he presented her with a ring on a snowy winter afternoon in Montana, in 2003.

 

 

Linnea aand AdamBoth were students there at an intensive YWAM Bible school when Linnea called us to share their big news. We were thrilled, already loving Adam, but we wondered how in the world we’d ever pay for a wedding.

Our family was in the midst of a rapid financial downturn due to some governmental tax law changes that destroyed Nate’s once-thriving business. By then we were struggling to pay our own bills, much less those of a wedding.

On the phone that night when Linnea asked how much we had in our “wedding account,” Nate looked at me and held up his finger and thumb in the sign of a zero.

We told Linnea the truth, that there was no wedding account, and when the conversation ended, both she and I were in tears. I pictured Adam standing with his arm around her, whispering comfort into her misery… and I felt awful.

Our daughter was suffering, too, and we longed to do something about it. She closed that conversation with, “Can we talk about this again tomorrow?”

Wedding aisleAs soon as we hung up, we began asking God to rescue us. Almost right away he reminded us of a song that says, “God will make a way, when there seems to be no way.” In this case, there really was no way. Though we wanted to believe he could and maybe even would make a way, we sure couldn’t imagine how. But if Linnea was going to have a wedding, it would have to be his doing.

“The Lord’s unfailing love surrounds the one who trusts in him.” (Psalm 32:10)

(…to be continued)

Missing a Sister

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TwinsiesMy sister Mary and I were unified in heart and mind from the very beginning. She wasn’t that far ahead of me in age, only a tottering toddler when I came along. Mom referred to those days as “playing house with my two little girls,” and we were blessed to be dearly loved.

From the beginning, Mom promoted a partnership between Mary and I, reinforcing it by dressing us in matching outfits. We had identical pinafores, coats, shoes, and dresses. But whether or not it was Mom’s doing, our sister-bond began early and lasted 71 years.

IMG_4252This week, a year and 5 months after Mary died, I’m feeling extra sad without her. I’ve been trying to put fresh fabric covers on my 8 dining room chairs, doing battle with a hard-to-squeeze staple gun and its frequent malfunctions. The deeper struggle, however, has been missing my sister.

The last time these chairs were covered was 7 years ago, and the two of us did them together. As always, it was fun and efficient to work as a team.

Our day of wrestling with upholstery fabric was punctuated with laughter over mistakes, lots of re-do’s, and a few staple-wounds. But there was serious talk too, as we lunched over Campbell’s tomato soup.

M and M upholsteringBy the end of that one day, we’d finished all 8 chairs. But the greater reward had been in getting to spend so many uninterrupted hours together. Doing the same job now hasn’t been satisfying at all, because of my strong longing to do it with Mary.

And that’s the most frustrating part of losing someone we love. The separation is complete and irrevocable. Though we know in our heads we can’t have even one extra minute with that person, we slip easily into fantasizing about how lovely it would be if we could. But reality always yanks us back and hits us with the words, “You can’t.”

I’ve had to work extra hard these last few days to listen to God’s advice about all this. And what he’s been whispering to me is, “I am your hope.”

He needed to tell me multiple times: “I will fill you with all kinds of joy as you look at Me. You’ll find yourself actually overflowing with hope, because of My Spirit’s power within you.” (Romans 15:13, loosely) After hearing it enough, I finally had to agree with him.

FriendsAs I’ve been hammering staples that refused to go all the way in, I’ve been thinking more than ever about life after death and the hope I have of spending not just one extra minute with Mary (and others) but of sharing unending time.

And I’ve learned that the hope God offers really does push out sadness. It also gives birth to gratitude – for a sister and for the Lord.

“The eye of the Lord is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love.” (Psalm 33:18)