Category Archives: Prayer

Young Love (#91)

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September 19, 1969

 

A busy womanMom was running around like a crazy woman trying to get everything done at home. Though I didn’t see most of it from my vantage point 156 miles away, her diary has a few blank pages with the words “So rushed!” on them. But she did take time to drop a note in the mail:

“Honey – It must be frustrating trying to plan a wedding from 156 miles away. Let us do all we can from here. It’s fun and it pleasures us. All is well here. Oh how I’d love to tuck you into a clean cozy bed and stand guard through a round-the-clock slumber for you! Just make a list of things you need done, and advise.” (I must have been complaining about being too busy, but compared to her, I was on vacation.)

And right about now Mom signed to have a contractor redo her kitchen. Our wedding was 9 weeks away, but ever the optimist (Dad would say gambler) she said, “It’ll get  done.”

TomAmidst all of this my brother Tom resurfaced from his school in the east, giving Mom another chance to mother him. Because she missed him so much, this was special to her – and she wrote it up in her diary. He’d forgotten to pack a suit coat and needed one a.s.a.p. for a university commitment.

Mom scrambled to think of someone she knew in Washington DC who would agree to deliver some cash to Tom (no credit cards then) so he could buy a jacket. But she succeeded and was thrilled that her “baby” had needed her again.

Our little apartment mailbox often contained inspiring messages, and we were glad others were sharing in our happiness. Aunt Joyce wrote, “All of us here are so excited for you, praying that the Lord will cause you to grow in Him as you establish another Christian beachhead, starting November 29, 1969!” She always had an upbeat way of presenting us with a new challenge.

Though we still didn’t own much and tried to stay out of the stores, one afternoon when I arrived home from work, Nate greeted me holding something behind his back. Grinning ear-to-ear he said, “I got you something!”

He brought his hands around and held up a pretty suede skirt. “On sale!” he said. “And I just had to see my beautiful fiancé in it!”

Suede skirtI was flabbergasted he would buy me such a personal gift and immediately tried it on. Then, getting goofy as we often did in those heady days, I became the model and he the photographer. He was pleased that I was pleased, and as the day ended, we felt closer than ever.

Around midnight every night, though, we took a page out of Cinderella’s story — Nate would head down the stairs and off toward his tiny rented room a mile away. It wasn’t easy kissing him goodbye, but just before he left, it helped to have a prayer time together, followed by the ritual of crossing off one more day on the count-down to our wedding…. when my “prince charming” would no longer have to disappear at midnight.

“Let love be genuine… Hold fast to what is good.” (Romans 12:9)

Young Love (#75)

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July 31, 1969

Kids galore.Mom was having trouble saying goodbye to the home where she’d raised her children and had so much fun doing it. The morning after the move, she drove back to 708, let herself in, and waited for the new owners to arrive. While she waited, she went to work painting some basement shelves she hadn’t been able to finish in the final flurry to move out the day before.

I can’t imagine what the new owners must have thought when they pulled in to the driveway after their closing and saw Mom’s car there. But she had ingratiated herself with this family in previous weeks, forging quick friendships. She probably threw the door wide open for them with the same warm welcome she’d given a thousand other guests, explaining that she was there to finish painting… after which she would “get out of the way for their moving van.”

The new owners told her their truck wouldn’t be arriving until the next day and that they had just stopped by to be sure the house was empty. In a short while they departed, inviting Mom to stay as long as she wanted – and she wanted.

Once the painting was done, she did what she really came to do. She walked upstairs, entering each room, lying down on the floor, arms outstretched. She wanted to talk to God.

In each room

In the master bedroom, she thanked him for everything she could think of that had gone on in that room – for a husband who had always been faithful, for successful recoveries from illnesses and surgeries, for time with children who climbed in with her during thunderstorms, for a daughter who donned her bridal gown in that room just before getting married, and much more.

CompanyMeals galoreShe moved from room to room, each time spreading herself out on the floor and mixing memories with gratitude to God… no doubt with plentiful tears.

After she finished upstairs, she went to the main floor, and her prayers must have been lengthy as she thought about hundreds of get-togethers she’d held in that home.

 

Surely she thanked God for the chance to be a Christian witness to neighbors and friends in those rooms, especially grateful for the children and teens who accepted her frequent invitations to “C’mon over.”

She even went to the basement where so many church socials and gatherings had taken place, and my guess is that when she stretched out on her laundry room floor, she wept hard.

Many of her conversations with the Lord had taken place as she ironed, her favorite household chore. She stood at an old wooden ironing board often, ironing sheets, towels, tablecloths, handkerchiefs, even Dad’s underwear.

As a kid it seemed to me she looked for excuses to heat up her iron and stand there – but maybe it was because that was her holy space. I remember many a strained conversation (since I was her wayward daughter) that occurred as she ironed. The tension between us was always mitigated when we could focus on a pillow case going from wrinkled to smooth, rather than looking at each other.

Empty houseWhen Mom finished her worship time in each room that day, she took a few pictures of her empty home and walked out the door. Amazingly, though, she already had plans to return – just one more time.

“Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

Young Love (#69)

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In 1969, greeting card companies came out with a line of tall, narrow contemporary cards focused on soldiers, military life, and the loved ones at home. Each card cost 25 cents, much pricier than plain paper, so Nate and I didn’t often send them to each other.

But in one last blast of letters to hit the “Nyman mail call” at Ft. Riley, I sent 10 contemporary cards, writing my personal messages on the backs and sometimes all around the drawings inside. I wanted Company B to know that Cadet Nyman was loved a whole lot!

10 letters

Soon Nate and I would be communicating face-to-face, and though I was overjoyed at the prospect, I felt a twinge of sadness at discontinuing the back-and-forth written record of our romance. Writing to each other had been a special joy during this unique season of our relationship.

July 22, 1969 – Dearest Meg, Fiancée, future Wife, Lover, Mother. I have prayed about the upcoming year in law school, your teaching there, and for all the wedding arrangements we’ll make in August. Worry and frustration are signs of the carnal man. Having both prayed about our problems, we shouldn’t worry. I don’t feel upset about them after prayer. I know the Lord will take good care of us. I am praying about this every day.

Prayer

July 22, 1969 – Dear Nate. Our friends Carole and Reggie are on the way to my apartment as I write, to deliver my bridesmaid gown to wear in their wedding. It will be great to see them again! So that means you’ll be standing up in one wedding, and I’ll be in another – both in August. I’m wondering how we’re going to get all these days off from our counseling at the camp. The director isn’t going to be very happy about me asking for two additional days now, one for the rehearsal and one for the wedding. Well, as Doris Day sings, what will be will be.

July 21, 1969 – Dearest Meg. Tuesday night I am making a special prayer at about “lights out” time here, 10:00. Will you join me? Let’s pray at the same time about the same subjects, committing all our uncertainties to the Lord. Just 3 more days, Sweetheart. Get rested up and ready to receive an hour of hugs and kisses!

BusJuly 22, 1969 – Dear Nate. Tomorrow evening I’ll be climbing on a Greyhound bus to come to you! I’ve decided to arrive early on the day before your graduation to make sure I get there in case your commanding officer gives you extra off-base time at the last minute. I’ll be leaving Chicago on a 7:30 PM bus bound for St. Louis on July 23. In St. Louis I’ll transfer to another bus (4:30 AM, July 24), and from there will go directly to Manhattan, arriving at 10:00 AM that morning. If I can’t see you until Friday the 25th, don’t worry. I’ll be at the Holiday Inn and will be fine.

July 22, 1969 – Dearest Meg. Two more days! Hugging and kissing you will be my dream come true! I’ve made many new friends here at Ft. Riley and have determined that all servicemen need Christ. Though our suffering is little compared to His sacrifice, soldiers need faith in Him to preserve their sanity – and their place in eternity. A Christ-filled life enables a person to withstand great privation and hardship. And the Lord takes care of His own.

“I write to you, dear children, because you know the Father… I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God lives in you, and you have overcome…” (1 John 2:14)