Not Too Young

On July 4th, 1974, at 2:00 PM,  I was getting married for the second time.  People who were guests at the church where I walked down the isle, had no idea that we were already married and that they were only watching a formality.  One hour earlier, Mark and I said our vows to each other in a hospital waiting room with only our witnesses, parents, and minister present.  We did this so my Dad who was in the hospital with cancer could be with us.  I was seventeen years old and three months pregnant.  Mark had just barely turned nineteen.  I wish I had a dollar for every time we heard that we were too darn young.  I can only imagine the people who were placing wagers on if we would even last a year.  So far, we have been true to our vows.  We stuck with it through times when we were at our best and more times when we were at our worst. (For better for worse)  We have finally made it to a time when it isn't such a struggle financially, but we have seen tough, uncertain times that came from farming and from raising six children. (For richer for poorer)  I am never ever sick but Mark has some major health issues.  (Sickness and health)

One of my biggest pet peeves is when a marriage splits up and I hear someone say, "Well, they just got married too darn young!"  I argue that I don't see what age has to do with it!  I think just as many marriages fail when the bride and groom are in their thirty's as do the ones when they are teens.  Out of my small high school class, several of us got married right out of high school or shortly thereafter and most are still together.  In fact one of them got married when he was sixteen and she was fourteen, they raised two daughters, and are about to celebrate their fortieth anniversary.

Mark and I have said many times that we think getting married so young was good for us, we finished raising each other!  Marrying as young as we did, made it easier for us to mold to one another, to chip away at the two different family dynamics we brought with us, until we had the right combination to form our own, new, unique, family unit that works for us.  Over the years we have both grown so dependent on each other the D-word is not an option.  I think we need to thank all those nay-sayers for telling us how young we were and how we weren't going to make it, and thanks to Mark's aunt who said that I wouldn't make Mark a good wife because I was a "city girl" and he needed to marry a farm girl who would be able to help him with his work.  (I came from a town with a population of 55)  It rubbed me the wrong way and I was out to prove her wrong!  I think (know) that neither Mark or I deserve any credit for beating the odds, for without the good Lord's help we would be just another statistic.  For his love and guidance I am exceedingly grateful!

I do know that thirty seven years has gone way WAY too fast.  I sometimes get blue realizing it would be very unusual for us to be able to spend another thirty seven years together.  Too many couples don't even reach their fiftieth before one of them is called home.  That is only thirteen years away!  How is that possible!?  I'm glad Mark and I started our life together so young.  That many more memories made, that many more experiences shared, that many more fusses and disagreements that we learned from, that much more time to have gotten to know one another inside and out.

 I guess we've come full circle. Now we actually sometimes hear "you're too old for that".  We just smile, knowing that we will never be too old any more than we were ever too young!

Kyle's Clam

Kyle and Dani went fishing last night at their local lake.  We received this picture from them, with the explanation that this was the first "fish" he caught!  We are thinking that maybe he should have kept it and notified Ripley's Believe it or Not to see if it was possibly the biggest clam ever!  At least it sure impressed all of us land-locked people!  I bet I received a dozen calls from hubby today to bring my phone out to the shop so he could show the picture to his customers.  I finally just printed the picture off so he could keep it out there!

A child is... what he lives

Today, Dani and Kyle borrowed our pickup to haul fencing material for their back yard.  They asked if a storm came up, would I please put their car in the garage in case it hailed.  Sure enough, it looked like weather might be moving in, so I drove their car into our garage.  As I was driving it in, I thought, I need to be careful so I don't hit the step on that side of the garage like I did my son Bryan's car one night.

Our two boy's have never been "car junkies".  Quite the opposite!  In fact, Mark always said, that was one lesson he tried to teach them, to not waste their money on cars, that he might have drilled into them a little too much!  Their vehicles were beyond old.  They were dented in, broken down vehicles that somehow, miraculously, still ran.  Bryan's was a 1992 Oldsmobile with over 250,000 miles on it, that he had purchased from his sister and brother-in-law for $200.  Being one who never liked to spend ANY money, he drove it all through his college years and beyond. Finally, last year, at the age of twenty four, he broke down and bought himself a nice car.  He was understandably very proud of it.

One night, I drove his car into town and when I came back, I drove it into the garage.  Since it was parked on the opposite side that I park my pickup, I forgot about the step.  I didn't feel a thing and got out and started watering my flowers in the yard.  Bryan came out and sounding a little annoyed and a lot amazed asked, "Mom!  Could you not feel  that you were driving my car into the step?"  I said, "No I didn't!" and went running in to defend my honor.  When I got to the car, I just wanted to die!  In fact I sat down with my head in my hands and started to cry because one entire half of the bottom of his bumper was caved in a good six to eight inches.  He said, "It'll probably come out", but when he got in and backed it up, no, it didn't.  The dent was still there and looked ten times worse.  But instead of yelling and screaming and being mad, he came over and started comforting me, saying, "It's no big deal, it's just a car."  Which made me feel even worse.  He and his Dad were able to pop most of it back out, but it still left a crinkle. I felt horrible, but Bryan just kept assuring me, it was no big deal.

As I contemplated how kind he was being to me, I started seeing flashbacks from the past.  I remembered how everyone was amazed that when we bought our pickup, the first trip it went on when we got back home, was a two hundred and forty mile round trip to a ballgame, driven by our two boys and some of their friends.  At the time Bryan was a junior and Kyle was a sophomore.  People couldn't believe that we let them take it.  We told them that they were a lot more important to us than any vehicle.   I then remembered how a couple years earlier, Bryan had borrowed our pickup, got caught in a storm, and compliments of hail, strong wind, and a huge tree branch it received over $6000 in damage.  When he called to say what happened, one of the first things he said was, "Sorry about your pickup".  We let him know without any doubt, that we couldn't care less about the pickup, we were just glad he was okay.  Don't get me wrong, we definitely had a "this really sucks" feeling, but it in no way translated into mad feelings at him.

Now, not one part of me is going to take credit for this attitude.  It has been through the gentle guidance and love of the Lord that we have learned what is important and what isn't.  My poor older kids received tongue lashings that they never should have received because we were young and stupid.  But, again, thanks to Jesus, they turned into wonderful adults that don't hold it against us and I am so very grateful for that.  I know that Bryan responded to me, when I damaged something of his, the same way he had seen us respond earlier, to him.  Several sayings came to mind, one of them - you reap what you sow!   But mainly, I remembered a poem that I had seen that goes something like this:

If a child lives with criticism,
He learns to condemn.

If a child lives with hostility,
He learns to fight.

If a child is ridiculed,
He will have no confidence.

If a child is shamed,
He will always feel guilty.

If a child lives with tolerance,
He will be patient.

If a child lives with praise,
He will learn to appreciate.

If a child lives with fairness,
He learns to be just.

If a child lives with security,
He learns to have faith.      And.........

If a child lives with forgiveness,
He learns to forgive!
           

Our "Quad's"

Five years ago we started anticipating the arrival of our "quads".  Four grandbabies, born to our four daughters all within four months of each other.  Their arrival and watching them grow will always be one of my fondest memories and most poignant reminder of how good God is.  We used to call them "the babies", but we changed it to "the toddlers" when less than three years later we had four more, born within a little more than a year of each other, two of those just two days apart!  As the original four creep closer and closer to that five year mark, we will had to come up with a new name for them, henceforth - "the quads". 

We are so very fortunate that four of our children and their families are close, within 35 miles of us, and the other two are less than four hours away and we see them often.  All of our grandkids are close to each other and have grown up as each others best friends.  But there is such a special bond between the "quads", it is a joy to behold.  We have pictures of them while "still in the womb", pictures of them barely sitting, sucking on each other's toes, pictures of them in the bathtub together, pictures of them sleeping together, blowing out candles together, sitting on the potty chair together, being flower girls and ring bearers together.  But my favorite pictures of them will always be the ones when they are walking somewhere or looking at something hand in hand or arms around each other.  When we get together, rather it's only two or three of them or all four, they are naturally drawn to each other, they grab a hand or two and head off on new adventures.  I rarely remember any fights between them, other than occasionally when the girls would pair off to do girl things or the boys would pair off to do boy things and it would upset the other two.  It seems like those times are becoming less frequent as they get older.  Grandpa came into the house the other day and said "Our trouble is just beginning!"  He had witnessed the four of them, looking for something together, grabbing a bucket and the other three helping one of them up on it so he could reach the latch to the dog pen!


This weekend found us crashing after a morning of hitting over forty garage sales in our small town.  One of the sales had baby chi-uah-uah puppies for sale.  We were talking about how cute they were and one of the quads went up and told her mamma she wanted a chi-uah-uah.  Her mamma answered "she could have one when she got married."  She turned to the other three, started jumping up and down and excitedly exclaiming "We're going to have chi-uah-uah's!  We're going to have chi-uah-uah's!"  In their minds, they will be a group of four forever!

And the fun just keeps on coming.  As I said, we have four more ranging in age from twenty eight months to fourteen months.  And we just found out we have two more on the way, both due on December 31st!  God just knows we like our babies in bunches!

Two Peas in a Pod

Two years ago today, we added another daughter to our fold, when youngest son Kyle married Dani.  Dani was an only child and how she blends in so well with this huge, loud, crazy family we will never know, but we are sure blessed that she does.  Two months after they were married, Kyle's sisters Karen and Jamie each gave birth less than forty eight hours apart.  I remember reading Dani's facebook post that read "I'm an aunt again for the second time in two days!  I love this family!"  How could we not fall in love with a girl like that!

When Kyle first started kindergarten, he was in the same class as a sweet special needs girl named Tristan.  Teachers constantly told me how compassionate and kind Kyle was to Tristan.  I was told that for many years the school made sure that they were both in the same class because Kyle was so helpful to her.  In junior high and high school, it was common for Tristan to see him across the track field or gym and run across to say hi and give him a big hug.  One time when a carnival was in town, Tristan's mother looked for Kyle to ask him if he would take Tristan on a few of the rides.  Tristan moved to a much bigger town, three hours away, when her and Kyle were Sophomore's in high school.  Occasionally he would get a text from her on the phone, but other than that, Tristan was just a fond memory.

Unbeknown to us, in the town that Tristan moved to was another Sophomore named Dani.  Their class had two hundred and fifty kids in it instead of the forty some that were in Kyle's class.  Nevertheless, Dani noticed Tristan and she always made a point to visit with her and help her out if she ever saw her having trouble with anything.  Several years later, Kyle attended college in Dani and Tristan's home town.  Kyle and Dani met and the rest, as they say, is history.

When their wedding day arrived, Tristan was one of the invited guests and her Mom and Dad brought her to the reception and dance.  She was so excited to see both Dani and Kyle and to be a part of their big day.  During the dance, several times through the night, we would see either Dani or Kyle dancing with Tristan.  At one time, we looked up and they were sitting on the edge of the stage with Tristan in between them!  Typically, they didn't worry one bit about themselves, or about it being "their day", but instead made sure she felt completely welcome and included.  

Now, two years later, they have both finished their first year of teaching special ed students.  They both love their jobs and you can tell they have a passion and love for the children they teach.   I know people say that opposites attract, but other than the only child / big family thing, Dani and Kyle seem to have an awfully lot in common.  We sure are glad their "pod" happens to be in our area, and I've been told there are a few parents and students who feel the same way!

Wiggy

Today is our granddaughter's birthday, she is seven years old.  She has a beautiful given name, it is Kierstyn Denae, but when she was a squrimy little toddler her Daddy started calling her "wiggles", it got dropped to Wiggy and it stuck.  I'm sure when she's older she will ask us to quit calling her Wiggy and call her by her name.  I have to admit, it will take some concentration to do so.  I honestly have to stop and think what her name is, she will always be Wiggy to me!

If you had a slang dictionary and looked up "Cute as a Bug's Ear, there would have to be a picture of Wiggy! She has long dark hair that almost touches her waist, dark brown eyes and the cutest speckling of freckles across her nose and cheeks.  And she is as sweet as she is cute.  The typical middle child, she is always willing to give into the others demands.  She gives the best hugs ever!  She loves to play board games and she loves school.  When you ask her what her favorite part of school is, she says "Oh the work!  I just love the work!"  And it shows.  Although she is just now finishing kindergarten she is reading at a third grade level or beyond.


Wiggy's vocabulary has always been huge for her age and some of the words she would use in the correct way would absolutely amaze us!  But even though she had an amazing vocabulary, Wiggy was hard to understand for most of the years of her life.  She had a hard time saying many sound combinations.  Clear up until she started school last fall we would often have to ask her Mom to interpret what she was was trying to say.  She just graduated from speech class.  At her last meeting the speech teacher asked Wiggy how she felt like she was doing and Wiggy immediately said that she thought she was doing good but there was one word she couldn't say right.  The teacher asked her what it was and she told her "geo-cache".  So they worked and before the session was over she could say geo-cache with the best of them!

One of my favorite Wiggy stories took place shortly after they had moved to a new town and her older brother had had a bad day at school because of someone picking on the new kid.  Her mamma had all the kids in one room saying there night time prayers.  As they were praying that things would go better for Kyson the next day, Karen said thank you that Kyson had other friends and a family who loved him and could help him through any future hard times with this particular boy.  Right then, with much enthusiasm, Wiggy jumped up and shouted "And for a PaPa who'll burn his house down if we ask him to!"  (She had easily come to this conclusion because hubby Mark can get rather passionate when he thinks one of his own is being picked on!)

I can't believe she is seven years old already.  My word time flies.  How many times do we hear that said but Wow, is it ever true!  So Happy Birthday Miss Wiggy!  I love you very very much and am looking forward to years and years of fun and laughter with you, and someday you and I will go hunt geo-cache's all day long!

Anxious thoughts

Quickly reading through two articles in the paper today made me pause.  The first one was about the search for missing victims of the massive tornado's in the south.  It told of a father who was present when the body of his twenty one year old son who was a college student in Alabama was found among the debris and twisted trees.  The father kneeled down and caressing his son's face started talking to him, telling him how much he loved him, how proud he was of him and how much he would be missed.  Having son's close to that age, it was easy to put my son's faces on that young man.  The horror of what those poor people have been living hit me like a ton of bricks.

 Next, I read about a Rwanda woman who was testifying at a trial against a man who carried out ethnic cleansing murders against her entire village, killing her husband and three young children.  Reading stories like this make me ask so many questions.  How can such horror be happening to others while I am safe here in my own home and my concerns are so trivial they are laughable.  How do people go on after something like that happens to them?  Why have I had such an easy life, nothing truly bad ever coming my way or to the ones I love?  And the big one...would I keep my faith if it did?

I've read countless stories and personal testimonies from people who have endured the worst imaginable things.  People like Corrie Tin Boom who was imprisoned in a Nazi camp and lost her sister there who not only kept her faith through it all but who's faith was strengthened.  Or the man who wrote the hymn, "It is well with my soul", who wrote it the morning after all four of his children drowned at sea.  Or Elizabeth Elliot who's husband was speared to death by the Auca Indians in South America and went on to live and teach in the very village of the people who killed him.  Would I be that strong?  Would I be able to praise Jesus name if a trial like that came my way?  Oh Lord, I hope and pray I would, but I can't say with certainty what I would do because I have never had my faith tested in that way.  It's easy to sound all pious and say I put my trust in the Lord when I live as charmed a life as I do, but what would I say or do if was all taken away from me?  On the other hand, I can't imagine how anyone could ever get through a tragedy without Jesus taking them by the hand, guiding them, loving them, comforting them.  I have a feeling these are common feelings, if I am anything, I am just a common person.  I think the only thing I can do is make sure my relationship with Christ is strong.  Make reading his word and praying the most important part of everyday.  Ask him each day to strengthen my faith.  Ask him in advance for the grace, spiritual maturity and strength I will need for any future trial.

After the last paragraph, I was interrupted by a phone call from hubby, needing me to make a "parts run".  On the way to town I prayed and thought about all these things and Jesus reminded me of two very important things he said to all of us.  Number one - Don't worry about tomorrow, today has enough worries of it's own and tomorrow will take care of itself. (Matthew 6:34)  Number two - My grace is sufficient for you, for when you are weak, I am strong!  (2 Corinthians 12:9)

All I've got to say is Wow!  How amazing is He?!?  How much calmer my heart feels after hearing those words.  If he is concerned enough about me to know exactly what I need and comfort me over anxious thoughts, how much more is He there when someone has fallen into the deepest darkest pit?  Lord Jesus, I pray for all the people today, trying to put their lives back together after a storm or the loss of loved ones.  Lord, in my comfort and peaceful place today, let me not forget that others need lifted up.  Please let them feel your presence so strongly, please show them how to lean on you, please hold them close in your arms.  Let them feel your peace that transcends all understanding.  Amen