Category Archives: Obedience

Newlywed Love (#88)

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August 12, 1970

 

Behind the wheel of our brand new Fiat, I set out for Champaign by 8:00 PM and couldn’t wait for Nate’s expression when he saw me driving something other than the Mustang. So I called him before I left, to be sure he would wait up for me. “I should be home around 11:00,” I said, not saying a word about our phenomenal gift.

With the convertible top down on this warm summer evening, I set the radio to my favorite music station and looked forward to 3 hours of get-acquainted time with the car.

Car radio.

Heading toward route 57, I remembered something Dad had said years earlier. “A new car shouldn’t do any high speed driving till after the first 100 miles.” I wondered if that was still true with the modern cars of 1970. Just in case, though, I decided to follow that advice.

Driving at about 40 miles per hour, I watched one car after another go around me and hoped I wouldn’t be rear-ended by someone not paying attention.

Police light.The miles clocked by without incident, though, until I saw a flashing light in the rear view mirror. Hoping it would roar past in pursuit of someone else, I was disappointed when the light stayed on and slowed to 40 mph – staying right behind me.

Pulling off to the shoulder, I couldn’t imagine what I’d done wrong. Surely he couldn’t pinch me for going too slow. Route 57 wasn’t even a super-highway, so people didn’t have to go fast.

Normally I would have gotten out of the car to greet the policeman when he came toward me, but I’d been driving without shoes and had a vague memory that barefoot was illegal.

The officer’s first words were, “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

I assumed he was joking but didn’t want to chance it, so gave him a serious answer. “I’m driving home… to Champaign.”

“At a snail’s pace?”

“Well… this car is brand new, and I don’t want to hurt it. I think I’m supposed to drive slow for the first 100 miles.”

“Is that so?” he said, taking a flashlight from his belt. He leaned toward my dashboard to check the odometer – 73 miles.

Bare feet“I’m almost to 100,” I said, hoping he’d commend me for being so careful. But as he pulled his flashlight back, its beam crossed over my toes.

“What’s this?” he said. “No shoes?”

“I trust in God, so why should I be afraid?” (Psalm 56:4)

Newlywed Love (#77)

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July 12-16, 1970

Nate and I were both very busy, me with student teaching and seminars, he with his paper route and preparing to start 5 summer school hours-worth of classes: Estate Planning and Poverty Law.

Since Nate was getting up at 3:30 AM to deliver papers, our paths didn’t cross until I returned from Danville in late afternoon. But often I’d come out of the bedroom in the morning to find a sweet note from my thoughtful husband.

One note during this week was written tongue-in-cheek:

Nate's noteDead seal time – I got the reading load for my courses and then dead seal! For Law and Poverty: 6 books, 300 pages of mimeos, plus reading necessary for a report (all in 5 weeks). Estate Planning – lots also. I can’t quit, because I know it’s good for me!

The two of us decided to start what we called a “self-improvement program.” Nate wasn’t sure when the Army would need him next and wanted to get in shape. He suggested I join him, “to do something together.”

When he asked how I felt about running, my mind went back to college PE class and the memory of sharp rib pain whenever we had to jog. “I’m not a fan,” I said.

Old running shoes“We could go at our own pace,” he said, “and you wouldn’t have to run any farther than you wanted to. Why don’t we just try it?” Unable to resist Nate’s gentle invitation, I agreed. The plan made sense, since both of us were doing lots of sitting during the day.

Rather than run around the neighborhood dodging cars and tripping up curbs, we decided to use the university armory building with its smooth indoor track.

On the first day, Nate ran one effortless loop after another, clocking 2 miles without much difficulty. I chugged and gasped to the 1 mile mark but hated every stride. “It’ll get easier,” he said, patting me on the back. “You did great for your first try!”

My feet were burning, my head was pounding, and that side pain was back full force. Wobble-walking to the car, I whispered to myself. “Give it one week. Then quit.”

Another note

Four days later, we were still running daily (at 7:00 AM when Nate came home from his paper route). But for me the highlight of our self-improvement program was when I could finally plop on the bench at the side of the track to watch Nate finish his run.

“While bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way.” (1 Timothy 4:8)

Newlywed Love (#73)

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June 28-July 2, 1970

My second week of student teaching was harder than the first. The 22-year-old certified teacher (to whom I was accountable) told me I would be doing most of the teaching while she sat and observed.

That meant every evening I had to study curriculum materials and prepare lesson plans. Since I didn’t know what I was doing with this new grade level, I had to dig into the seminar textbooks by the hour to figure it all out.

Job searchAs for Nate’s days, he continued making calls and pounding the pavement seeking a third job, since day-after-day his name was passed over for construction work, and his pots and pans weren’t selling.

The two of us had virtually no time together and were suffering because of it. We did sit together over our simple dinners, but the rest of the time I was either gone or busy. The only recreation was late-night coffee breaks with Cathy and John… and of course fun in the bedroom.

One evening we gave ourselves the luxury of a walk through the neighborhood, taking Baron with us. His funny antics always lifted our spirits.

DiscouragedWhen we returned to our apartment, though, we discovered we’d locked ourselves out. The only option was to knock on a neighbor’s door and ask to use the phone. Then, after calling the landlord, the 3 of us waited on the front step.

We talked about our sticky situation with Baron being there, and how it could end badly. But I had an idea. “I could take Baron around to the back yard,” I said, “so Mr. Norman won’t see him.”

Nate, with his sterling integrity, responded exactly as I expected. “Better not.”

“But what is he gonna say?”

“Well… let’s just wait and see. Maybe it won’t be a big deal.”

When Mr. Norman finally arrived with his master key, he immediately zeroed in on Baron, perched in Nate’s arms. “Who’s this little fellow?”

Nate introduced them while Baron did his best to radiate puppy-charm. Watching our landlord pat him on the head lit a tiny flame of hope in me. But then he said, “He’s not your dog, is he?”

Nate and I took a quick glance at each other, which of course answered the question. “Well… he can’t stay here. Nothing against him, you understand, but that’s my rule.”

When we didn’t respond, he continued. “I’ll tell you what. You can have through the weekend to figure out what to do. But after that, he needs to be gone.”

Our feet were heavy as we followed Mr. Norman and his key up the stairs. He didn’t chide us for interrupting his evening or threaten to evict us. But as he gave Baron one last pat on the head he said, “By the end of the weekend.” And that was that.

Baron at easeMy heart was hurting, but Nate summed it up well. “We knew this would happen eventually. And really, he didn’t even have to let us back in the apartment… with Baron.”

“I suppose,” I said. “And I guess being honest should count for something” – though right then I wished I’d done the dishonest thing and taken him to the back yard.

“The integrity of the upright guides them, but the unfaithful are destroyed by their duplicity.” (Proverbs 11:3)