Newlywed Love (#8)

December 17, 1969

Although our mailbox wasn’t as full as during pre-wedding days, Nate faithfully checked it. I loved receiving occasional letters from Mary, Mom, and others who kept me current with the news of family and friends back home.

One day, after I’d hiked up the stairs at the end of a long work day, Nate and I greeted each other warmly as always – but then he said, “Interesting mail today.”

“From who?” I said.

With a serious expression he turned to get the letter, handing it to me while keeping his eyes on my face. Immediately I recognized the writing — my old boyfriend.

Although it was addressed to both of us, Nate had chosen not to open it.

“I have no idea what it is,” I said, “but you can open it if you want.”

“No thanks,” he said.

When I was still dating this guy, I was also exchanging letters with Nate, and he knew about the relationship from before it began until after it ended 18 months later. I often asked “my friend Nate” for advice about how to handle conflict with “my boyfriend,” and through that time Nate never said a negative word about him.

Instead, he gave his objective opinions, absent of any pressure on me to break it off, though that’s what he was hoping for. He gave me the freedom to choose while praying passionately that God would turn my heart toward him.

As I held this unexpected letter in a hand that was slightly trembling, I looked up at my young husband and saw something new in his face: anger. Not toward me but toward the letter and its author.

Wanting to reassure him I said, “If you want to, we can just throw it away without opening it.”

“No.” he said, “Let’s see what he wants.”

LetterI opened the envelope and began reading aloud, struggling with a tightness in my throat. “I’d like to be friends with both of you,” he wrote. “So I’m inviting you to my New Year’s Eve party. It’ll be at my house – Dec. 31, of course.”

He wrote about a new beginning and gave the details of the party, ending with, “Hope to see you there!”

Nate didn’t say a word, but his thoughts were all over his face. He waited for me to speak.

I handed the letter back to him and said, “I have absolutely zero interest in having a relationship with him, or attending his party. I hope I never see him again in my whole life.”

Nate’s expression relaxed a bit and he encircled me in a strong hug. Though I still felt shaky, I was sure everything was going to work out right. Together we composed a brief response with a “no” for the RSVP, clearly stating we weren’t interested in pursuing friendship.

I love you.Later as we walked to the mailbox, we talked further about the letter and the possibility of other outside influences coming from all kinds of places with potential to harm our marriage. And we decided then and there that we would be intentional about fending them all off…. together.

“Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.” (Proverbs 4:23)

Newlywed Love (#7)

December 16, 1969

Newlywed blissDuring these early weeks of marriage, Nate and I were focused on each other and our new life together almost to the exclusion of everything else (except our schools, of course). On the surface it seemed selfish, but both of us believed God was endorsing it.

We’d heard that in biblical times, when a couple married, they’d take a “gap year” from all other pursuits to learn to live with each other lovingly and successfully. The culture believed this one-on-one exclusivity would result in a rock-solid foundation for a marriage that could last a lifetime.

Of course there were then (and are now) an endless array of challenges that can get in the way of reaching that goal. As Nate and I talked about this, we learned that focusing on each other meant something different for him than it did for me.

A noteFrom the first day we met on a blind date as college seniors, he had chosen to put me in an honored place in his mind. Since then, not one hour (probably not even 5 minutes) had gone by without him thinking of me, and in his letters, he often told me so.

He strategized how to please me and tried to come up with new ways to prove his love. His mind was focused on me long before mine was on him, but that never stopped him. Getting married, then, was simply an extension of that way of thinking.

For me, our one-on-one newlywed year would accomplish something different. After dating a number of boys, some for years at a time, I came into our marriage with some heavy romantic baggage. In my heart I very much wanted to erase all of those boy-girl memories, and I hoped as Nate and I delighted in each other, all that history would fade away.

As the days passed, that seemed to be happening, and I was grateful. But female minds resist emotional housecleaning, and less than 3 weeks into our marriage, a memory-crisis came out of nowhere.

Random thoughts about the relationship I’d had just before Nate (the non-Christian boyfriend) suddenly began popping into my head on a haphazard basis. They were not thoughts of longing or love but were just indiscriminate memories that took me by surprise…. and took me back to that time. They were unwelcome and disturbing.

I desperately wanted to fix the problem and went immediately to Nate, asking him what to do. Nate was not offended and thanked me for coming to him. But he talked about the danger of this, which I recognized, too.

His first suggestion was that together we pray about it every day, with strong confidence that God would put a stop to it.

We asked the Lord to stand guard over my mind in a way neither of us had the power to do. We knew his desire was that our marriage thrive and remain pure in every way, which included our thoughts. He didn’t want past relationships to contaminate it… and neither did we.

As time went by, our cries to God helped immensely. My dating past began surfacing less and less, and one day I realized I hadn’t thought about my old boyfriend throughout that day.

Just us two.I often told Nate, “My mind and heart belong completely to you, and I love you with everything in me, head to toe. I love no one else in the way that I love you. You are, and always will be, my number one.”

As we happily enjoyed each other’s company one-on-one, I sensed that absolutely nothing was ever going to come between us. God had powerfully answered our prayers by shutting the memory-door and locking it.

But then something happened…. to kick it in.

Be on guard. Stand firm in the faith. Be courageous. Be strong.” (1 Corinthians 15:13)

Young Love (#127)

November 28, 1969

placecardsThe day before our wedding had been a long, emotionally draining day, especially the part about me being an hour late for the rehearsal. But it wasn’t over yet. After the rehearsal dinner (with the last use of my maiden name on my place-card), Mom and Aunt Joyce needed my opinion about something back at the church.

So as most of the others departed the Germania Club, the three of us headed for the church basement. As we stood in the large room where the reception would take place, Mom pointed out the dilemma. “We’ve attached the table skirts to two of the tables in different ways so you can see. One has the ruffles sticking up above table level, and the other has them the same height as the table. Which do you like best?”

Both tables looked nice with their fluffy layers of fabric from tabletop to floor – pink taffeta topped with netting and edged with ribbon. I doubted if wedding guests would notice where the ruffles were.

But these two seasoned women weren’t going to finish the tables without a word from me. “You choose,” they said.

One inchAll I could think of was the lateness of the hour and that the night before my wedding was going to be a really short one. “Ok. How about if we let the ruffles stick up just a little bit?” I said. “Like one inch.” I figured that would be choosing the middle ground between their two examples.

One of them thought that would look like a miscalculation. The other said if it stuck up at all, it would have to be higher, appearing more deliberate. I couldn’t win. All of us were tired and ready to make the 40 minute drive back to Wilmette, so I said, “Let’s do ‘eeny-meeny-miney-moe’ over the two example-tables and see which one it lands on.” I was going for a laugh but didn’t get it.

“It’s your wedding day, Margee,” Aunt Joyce said, “and the bride is the boss. Surely you have a preference?”

“Well,” I said, desperate to end the debate, “maybe we shouldn’t use the skirts at all.” My eyes filled with tears, and I tried my best to bat them back, but both women saw.

Mom said, “Oh sweetheart, it’s not that important. Don’t cry.” But it was too late. Maybe it was exhaustion. More likely it was the accumulated stress of the day. Whatever the reason, I was embarrassed to be sniffling in front of these two who’d done so much to plan our wedding… especially Mom.

That’s when Aunt Joyce looked at Mom and said, “Well, we asked her what she thought, and she told us. Let’s go with what she said, to let the ruffles stick up one inch. After the candles, flowers, and food are on the tables, everything will look beautiful.”

So that’s what we did. Neither of them got their way, but they both got what they wanted from me: an opinion, albeit a wobbly one.

Table skirts

Half-an-hour later, we had all the skirts tacked up, and as we stepped back to judge our work, the room looked quite festive – and ready for a wedding celebration.

“People should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.” (Ecclesiastes 3:13)