Category Archives: Marriage

Nate’s Notes

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Anyone who’s lost someone they love through death is acquainted with the harsh finality of the separation. No new photos of that person, no fresh conversations, no advice or opinions, no notes or cards.

Earlier this week when my Hope Chest revealed a whole bagful of Nate’s handwritten notes that I hadn’t remembered saving, my heart skipped a beat, and I gave the bag a big hug. I believe God led me to those notes to help me develop a spirit of gratitude within my widowhood. In that same spirit, I share a sampling here with you.

Rising by 5:00 am every morning to make his long commute to Chicago’s Loop, Nate and I didn’t connect on workday mornings. Instead his greeting to me was a 3 x 5 card, usually propped against the coffee pot. Despite the financial crucible he was experiencing at the time, a positive tenor flowed through his messages. Reading them from my current position without him, has been inspirational.

(No need to read them all, if you can even read them at all!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s good for each of us to ask, “When my family is disposing of my things, what statements will my life be making?”

If I could choose one theme I’d like them to find, it would be gratitude, and not just gratitude in general, but gratitude to God. I have a long way to go, but Nate’s notes have inspired me in that direction. Maybe I’ll even buy myself a pack of 3 x 5 cards.

“Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever.” (1 Chronicles 16:34)

Visiting with Nate

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For many years I’ve had a piece of furniture some people would call a “Hope Chest.” Several generations back, every young woman put together a trousseau, beginning in her teens, stockpiling items in her Hope Chest to be used at a future date.

Under the tutelage of a mother, grandmother, and aunties, she’d hand-make dresses, table linens, towels, bed linens, and quilts, adding decorative stitching to make them unique. Her “hope” would be to one day have her own home and family where the carefully collected chest-full of items would become her contribution to the start of her marriage. This tradition continued well into the 1950’s.

I loved the idea of a Hope Chest, though I didn’t have one. But years after I was married, despite having closets loaded with everything I needed, I asked Nate if I could have a Hope Chest for my 40th birthday. We chose it together, and I filled it with sentimental items I wanted to keep: baby shoes, my Girl Scout sash, the mold of a child’s hand, my first piece of little-girl jewelry, a child’s art project, an engraved drinking cup, and about 50 other things.

This week I decided to dig for something from Birgitta’s childhood that she might appreciate as she approaches motherhood. Gradually I emptied the Hope Chest, enjoying the written explanations and memories accompanying each item. And when I got to the bottom, I found a lovely surprise: Nate.

Even though he’s been gone for nearly 3 years, tucked into the cedar-lined corner was something I don’t remember putting there: a ZipLoc bag full of his handwriting.

Well over 200 notes and letters filled the bag, each one dated, most about 10 years old. Apparently I’d tucked them away before we moved to Michigan in 2009, before Nate’s back trouble, before cancer, before death. Picking up that bag stuffed with his thoughts brought a little squeal of happiness out of me, and I tucked the whole thing under my pillow for later, anticipating a mini-visit with Nate each night for quite awhile. Looking at several pieces just before turning out the light would be a sweet something to anticipate through each day.

I had no doubt my “find” was God’s doing. He’s a Person of deeply felt compassion for each of us. Although he’s far too grand to know him completely, he orchestrates wonderful “flukes” now and then, to let us know he’s very near. The cache of Nate’s notes was a reminder of that, and I shook my head in wonder at what a caring God he is.

When I finally began reading the notes (well over 200 of them), they reflected bits of carefree humor I’d nearly forgotten were part of those financially stressful days 10 years ago. But inside that baggie, God was communicating something else to me: “Please don’t forget.” And his reason?

“…so you can be thankful.”

(Tomorrow: Nate’s notes)

“I recall all you have done, O Lord; I remember your wonderful deeds of long ago.” (Psalm 77:11)

The Price of Commitment

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Sundays aren’t as upsetting as they used to be. Watching a husband put his arm around his wife or share a hymnal doesn’t bring tears like it did a year ago, and last Sunday I even felt sincere delight watching the senior couple directly in front of me. As the congregation sang a rousing hymn, they not only shared the hymnal, they shared something else.

The husband, as he sang, occasionally glanced at his wife’s face. Every so often she looked up at him, and they shared a knowing smile. Part of the hymn they sang from memory, to each other, face-to-face. Once he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. As he did, she leaned toward him slightly, just enough to communicate acceptance and love.

On the hymn’s 3rd verse, these two 70-somethings standing side-by-side, began slowly swaying together, left and right, to the hymn’s cadence. It was so subtle an observer glancing at the congregation wouldn’t have noticed, but since they were right in front of me, I did. And it was charming.

Two things popped into my head: (1) gratitude that I wasn’t crying while witnessing this marital harmony, and (2) when one of them dies, the other will suffer. But that’s the natural consequence of a good marriage. When the time comes, even though tears will flow, the one left behind won’t wish away the years they had together to spare the pain of separation when it ends.

Most of life’s valuable commitments put us at risk for sadness, even sharp, agonizing pain: a happy marriage faces eventual widowhood and loneliness; parenthood brings incredible joy but also the misery of saying goodbye … over and over again; even taking on a family pet includes knowing we’ll one day have to bury it. Our world is full of opportunities to commit, each one involving a sacrifice, a risk, or both.

All except one.

The most important commitment any of us can ever make includes no price to pay at the end of it, and that’s our commitment to Christ. The risk and sacrifice for the greatest treasure on earth was all made by him, not us. Why he would ever agree to do what he did in order to get us is beyond figuring out. With all our imperfections and sins, we know we’re not worth the sacrifice he had to make, but apparently he thought we were. Mindboggling.

Unlike at the end of our human commitments, most of which finish with a goodbye, the final result of a commitment to Christ is an eternal hello and a life so unique and fresh we don’t now have the ability to picture it. The commitments of this world all come to an end, but signing on with Jesus is a forever partnership.

This morning, back in church, I scanned the congregation for the loving couple I’d seen the week before, but they weren’t there. When I asked, I learned they’d gone on a long trip to Europe. A second honeymoon? No, just making the most of an ongoing commitment to one another.

“At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now! The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” (2 Corinthians 5:16-17)