I am thinking about a phrase I heard when I was trying to do my best with 4 little ones. I read somewhere, "Put aside urgent things and do important things." My first thought was, "You've got to be kidding!" I was probably on my way to rescue one of my little ones from getting burned by the stove or something that urgent! Or maybe I just thought being to church on time was urgent. (ridiculous!) That phrase has come back to stop me so many times. Important. What is important?
Nancy Sacry would say important is taking time to give you a cup of tea even when she is late for an appointment. I believe no matter when I stopped in her home she would take time for me. I have trusted that on more than one occasion. She has not let me down.
Mom would say there is always time to play a game of cards with one of her children or grandchildren or Terry and I. And she can do it with laughter and a light heart.
Grandma Pyfer said by her actions that important was sitting with an open and accepting attitude, listening, no matter what was being shared or who was sharing it.
To Grandma Cora important was taking time to visit the "old" people in town. This consumed so much of her time when she was 80-96 years old.
For me, I began to realize it was more important to let a dirty shirt stay on my child if disturbing that child to change a shirt showed I cared more about her or him than the people I was trying to impress. ( I still can't leave a dirty face! For me clean faces are important!)
I don't know how young mothers and fathers decide what is important when they both work, both need time to themselves, both need quality time with each of their children and their spouse, both want to give to their church, community, other relatives. It's a daunting thought. But I think some are truly trying and I take my hat off to them. That's so important!
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Preschool memories
During my preschool years, maybe I was 3,4 or maybe 5 we lived at the bottom of the road up to the ranch, where the road meets the paved highway now. Our home was a very large white house. Mom told me the other day she could see outside from the inside in some spots. She and Dad's bedroom was right off the living room but the rest of us slept on the second floor. In the wintertime there was no heat upstairs. When it was time for bed we would get up our courage and then dash up the 20 or so stairs and climb quickly under the stack of covers, warm and snug with our siblings. I remember complaining about going to bed but the fun of the run and the snuggle.
Outside of that home, across a rutted driveway was a large very old house. Maybe my parents could tell me what it was and why it was there. I only know we called it "haunted." I stood by our house staring at it but I don't believe I ever entered its scary inside in spite being teased for my fear. It was unpainted, darker wood with no window pains and probably no doors that hooked.
In the front of the house toward the highway (which was not a highway then) was a long sidewalk starting from the wood porch and ending at a huge ant pile. I loved that ant pile and would sit and watch it for a long time. If one of my siblings wanted to break it up I would not have it. I was its protector. It was about a foot high and very fasinating.
My other memory of that place was the day we made our own homemade slide down the 5 or 6 steps off the front porch. We used an old board as our slide. My memory is of lying across Mom's lap, face down as she dug the large splinter out of my behind with a needle.
That house was there a long time after we moved up to the ranch again. Sometime, when I was married and gone from home, it was torn down along with the haunted house and replaced with corrals. I wish I had a picture of it outside of my mind.
Outside of that home, across a rutted driveway was a large very old house. Maybe my parents could tell me what it was and why it was there. I only know we called it "haunted." I stood by our house staring at it but I don't believe I ever entered its scary inside in spite being teased for my fear. It was unpainted, darker wood with no window pains and probably no doors that hooked.
In the front of the house toward the highway (which was not a highway then) was a long sidewalk starting from the wood porch and ending at a huge ant pile. I loved that ant pile and would sit and watch it for a long time. If one of my siblings wanted to break it up I would not have it. I was its protector. It was about a foot high and very fasinating.
My other memory of that place was the day we made our own homemade slide down the 5 or 6 steps off the front porch. We used an old board as our slide. My memory is of lying across Mom's lap, face down as she dug the large splinter out of my behind with a needle.
That house was there a long time after we moved up to the ranch again. Sometime, when I was married and gone from home, it was torn down along with the haunted house and replaced with corrals. I wish I had a picture of it outside of my mind.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Honesty
Over 25 years ago, when we lived in Mississippi I was parked at the clinic where Terry worked. I jumped into the car and put it in reverse without my foot on the brake. I rolled into a car - terry's partner's car. It didn't hit very hard and I thought nothing was wrong. Later Darel told me that it had cost him - I think he said $300 to fix. When he said it I apologized but did not offer to pay the fee. He let it go. I didn't think more of it. But as I've gotten older I've realized how wrong it was.
A few years ago I was in Billings on a Women of Faith trip with a bunch of gals and I was getting out of the truck with the other women. The wind was blowing hard and it caught my door and my door hit the car next to mine. I was in a hurry to catch up with the other ladies. I rubbed the car I'd hit to see what damage was done very quickly. I noticed the nick and tiny dent but did nothing else and went on in.
When I returned to my truck there was a note on my car with a phone number to call. They had my license and wanted me to make amends. It was one of those sports cars and he said it was new and he wanted to repair the dent. I felt terrible then that I hadn't taken the time to right my wrong. I turned it in to our insurance and got it covered. I vowed to myself to be more careful.
Since that time I have opened the car door probably 3 times on other cars. Each time I cringe, be sure it's not dented but each time I have left a little mark = a nick. I've never left my number or acknowledged it in any way.
Recently, because of a friend who was honest about something like this, I was made aware of my own dishonesty in this area. I think of myself as an honest person and yet I continue to do this without being responsible for my actions.
I had a dream this morning that I don't want to go into but I woke up realizing that I have a problem in this area. In analyzing, I realize I need to take accountability somehow to change this kind of action. This is how I plan to do it.
1. On a practical level I want to wait 5 seconds before I open the car door. I want to walk to the car slowly and notice the tires, who is next to me - to just look around.
2. One reason I think I've done this is because I am so caught up in my own world that I don't take the time to notice the physical concerns of others. Since, in the past I didn't value cars and other "things" as much as emotional, spiritual things I did not even think it mattered. This comes from bad theology that separates out some things as spiritual, others as physical. In reality, all things are spiritual and important to God.
3. I want to live in the present. I am so often in my head instead of where I am at in reality. I miss alot of life.
4. I am embarassed to be accountable over and over to people whose cars I nick. And, of course, I don't want my insurance to go up. I will never nick a car again without writing a note to leave.
5. I am writing in my blog because I need others to hold me accountable. I've had years of this habit so I want to change and can't do it alone. If you are reading this, please be gentle, but if you are with me and I do something dishonest, tell me.
A few years ago I was in Billings on a Women of Faith trip with a bunch of gals and I was getting out of the truck with the other women. The wind was blowing hard and it caught my door and my door hit the car next to mine. I was in a hurry to catch up with the other ladies. I rubbed the car I'd hit to see what damage was done very quickly. I noticed the nick and tiny dent but did nothing else and went on in.
When I returned to my truck there was a note on my car with a phone number to call. They had my license and wanted me to make amends. It was one of those sports cars and he said it was new and he wanted to repair the dent. I felt terrible then that I hadn't taken the time to right my wrong. I turned it in to our insurance and got it covered. I vowed to myself to be more careful.
Since that time I have opened the car door probably 3 times on other cars. Each time I cringe, be sure it's not dented but each time I have left a little mark = a nick. I've never left my number or acknowledged it in any way.
Recently, because of a friend who was honest about something like this, I was made aware of my own dishonesty in this area. I think of myself as an honest person and yet I continue to do this without being responsible for my actions.
I had a dream this morning that I don't want to go into but I woke up realizing that I have a problem in this area. In analyzing, I realize I need to take accountability somehow to change this kind of action. This is how I plan to do it.
1. On a practical level I want to wait 5 seconds before I open the car door. I want to walk to the car slowly and notice the tires, who is next to me - to just look around.
2. One reason I think I've done this is because I am so caught up in my own world that I don't take the time to notice the physical concerns of others. Since, in the past I didn't value cars and other "things" as much as emotional, spiritual things I did not even think it mattered. This comes from bad theology that separates out some things as spiritual, others as physical. In reality, all things are spiritual and important to God.
3. I want to live in the present. I am so often in my head instead of where I am at in reality. I miss alot of life.
4. I am embarassed to be accountable over and over to people whose cars I nick. And, of course, I don't want my insurance to go up. I will never nick a car again without writing a note to leave.
5. I am writing in my blog because I need others to hold me accountable. I've had years of this habit so I want to change and can't do it alone. If you are reading this, please be gentle, but if you are with me and I do something dishonest, tell me.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Spencer
I am in Philly this week getting a huge grandchildren fix. Terra and Zach's family have "Family Home Evenings" on Mondays. Each person has a responsibility to do their part. Rachel lead the opening song (waving arms and all). Anna said a prayer. Spencer had the lesson. Terra and Zach invited me to help Spencer come up with a lesson so I asked him if he wanted to tell about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples. I said, "You could pretend to be Jesus." He acted kind of negative about it and I thought maybe he just didn't want to do the feet washing thing so I said, "Would you rather do another story like David and Goliath or Daniel and the Lion's Den?" He said, "I want to wash everybody's feet, but NO ONE should be Jesus. He's the only One." Properly chastised, I told him he could wash the feet and no one would be Jesus. I wondered how he would do since he was pretty tired, had been sick with an ear infection, etc. But when our turn came I asked him to tell about people's feet back in Jesus time. He spoke right up, though somewhat shyly, "Mostly they wore sandals so they had dirt and dust on their feet - and toe jam. (He had told me earlier in the week how he had to clean the toe jam out of his toes most nights.) Servants washed their feet but Jesus put on an apron and washed his disciples feet." So we washed everyone's feet, him washing and me drying. It was absolutely precious, especially when he washed Zach's feet. Anna and Rachel loved it too. Then I told about since Jesus served us, we should serve others.
Then Spencer asked each person, "Who serves you, Mom?" (Anna, Rachel, etc.) It was a very precious time to me. It reminded me of times in my life when my own children were so close to God, so trusting in their faith and sensitive to God's Spirit that they taught me.
Then Spencer asked each person, "Who serves you, Mom?" (Anna, Rachel, etc.) It was a very precious time to me. It reminded me of times in my life when my own children were so close to God, so trusting in their faith and sensitive to God's Spirit that they taught me.
Thursday, March 27, 2008
God's family
Tonight Terra called to tell us her Rachel had fallen, broken her front teeth and possibly fractured her gums. As I write this they are at a hospital with the triage nurse. She will have surgery after midnight. We are waiting to hear more. Ken, Mom, Dad, Jim, Nancy, Terry and I were finishing up an evening of dinner and we stopped for a minute to pray for Rachel and her family, the doctors, etc.
This afternoon I was talking with Susan on the phone. In her preparation for Brody's blessing she was realizing once again how important her church family had always been in their life. How different and difficult our lives would have been without our church families. It got me to thinking...
The first thing that came to mind was when Nathan was sick with croup. When we took him to the doctor that day the doctor told us if he got any worse to bring him right to the emergency room. He was about 8 or 9 months old. It seemed in the evening he was getting worse. But it was hard to tell. We started to go and then we decided to first call Terry's Dad and another Elder to come and administer to him. They came and Nathan began to recover.
Or the time Terry and I administered to Jamie when he had torn his urethra and the next morning he was ok.
Or how our church family in Urbana were the first to arrive when our 2 boys were born, loving them instantly and supporting us with showers, babysitting, holding and playing with them.
Every time we moved to a new town the first thing we did was contact the church people. We instantly had a family no matter how far away from our blood relatives we were. And it was our church family who we went to in times of trouble or shared our times of joy with us.
Don Bowman told me how our church family here met to pray while I was in surgery for my brain tumor. How they worried and grieved and prayed when it took so long, praying for Terry, knowing how he felt.
This year at reunion we're celebrating the sacraments. The sacraments are opportunities in the many phases of our lives to make those times special, holy and beautiful. Like the blessing of a child, committment of our lives to God in baptism, marriage, ordination for leadership, evangelists blessing and administration to the sick. Times when we can acknowledge God's presence and trust God for our future and know God's love for those we love.
I don't know how people get through the hard times without a church family. This blog is not long enough to put down all the times we were supported by people of faith from all over the world.
And though Terra's church is different than mine by name, she and Zach and their family are finding that same support as friends from their church take care of Spencer and Anna. An elder from their church will do the surgery. (My first 2 obgyns were members from our church and I still remember important things they shared that still help me.) People from their church will pray for them. It brings me peace to know that support is there for them. And it reminds me again why so much of my time and energy is spent giving to my church. That circle of love is stronger than anything on earth. I want to be a part of opening that cirle to extend to all God's children on earth.
This afternoon I was talking with Susan on the phone. In her preparation for Brody's blessing she was realizing once again how important her church family had always been in their life. How different and difficult our lives would have been without our church families. It got me to thinking...
The first thing that came to mind was when Nathan was sick with croup. When we took him to the doctor that day the doctor told us if he got any worse to bring him right to the emergency room. He was about 8 or 9 months old. It seemed in the evening he was getting worse. But it was hard to tell. We started to go and then we decided to first call Terry's Dad and another Elder to come and administer to him. They came and Nathan began to recover.
Or the time Terry and I administered to Jamie when he had torn his urethra and the next morning he was ok.
Or how our church family in Urbana were the first to arrive when our 2 boys were born, loving them instantly and supporting us with showers, babysitting, holding and playing with them.
Every time we moved to a new town the first thing we did was contact the church people. We instantly had a family no matter how far away from our blood relatives we were. And it was our church family who we went to in times of trouble or shared our times of joy with us.
Don Bowman told me how our church family here met to pray while I was in surgery for my brain tumor. How they worried and grieved and prayed when it took so long, praying for Terry, knowing how he felt.
This year at reunion we're celebrating the sacraments. The sacraments are opportunities in the many phases of our lives to make those times special, holy and beautiful. Like the blessing of a child, committment of our lives to God in baptism, marriage, ordination for leadership, evangelists blessing and administration to the sick. Times when we can acknowledge God's presence and trust God for our future and know God's love for those we love.
I don't know how people get through the hard times without a church family. This blog is not long enough to put down all the times we were supported by people of faith from all over the world.
And though Terra's church is different than mine by name, she and Zach and their family are finding that same support as friends from their church take care of Spencer and Anna. An elder from their church will do the surgery. (My first 2 obgyns were members from our church and I still remember important things they shared that still help me.) People from their church will pray for them. It brings me peace to know that support is there for them. And it reminds me again why so much of my time and energy is spent giving to my church. That circle of love is stronger than anything on earth. I want to be a part of opening that cirle to extend to all God's children on earth.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Easter
Why do we get up before dark and make our way to the Ranch early on Easter Morning? When I woke up this Easter I was grumpy and not really wanting to get up. But it was one of our nicer Sunrise services: great weather (ok, so it was 22 degrees but it was sunny and no wind!) a perfect spot that Brenda's family calls the Rock Chuck place; a well planned service with a band to accompany us as we sang. Practically everyone who came (we always have extras) had a reading to do. The Volzes had a fire going and little orange flags to direct our path over the hill. The Gayle Sacrys had done the planning and it was well done. All that wouldn't have meant much except that it seemed that every reading was just what I needed to renew my faith and put my negative spirit back into the right place. A person I was angry with came up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Another help with my attitude.
Easter is my favorite holiday. No, I don't like the eggs, bunnies, pretty dresses, easter egg hunt (ok, I do like the egg hunt) but I hate anything that distracts me from what Easter really is. God came to earth and was like us, died for us and gave us hope for eternity. I'd like to write about the Easter of 2004. The worst and the best Easter I've ever had.
A week before Easter Grandma Cora fell when trying to grab a door handle. She broke her hip (I think) and had to have surgery. Something happened during the surgery and she was never the same. We spent the rest of that week taking turns being with her in the hospital. But I don't think she really knew we were there. She thrashed and moaned and struggled all week. During one of my turns with her I thought how people had sung hymns or read scriptures to their loved ones when they were near death and it calmed them. That didn't work for her. We held her hands and tried so hard to comfort her but nothing seemed to work. The best way I can describe her was "distressed." I can't remember how long I was with her but it was one of the worst times in my life.
I never felt so helpless in that way. Finally Gayle had her taken to his home and tried to keep her comfortable. One of the few times she was quiet was when Glada Ann washed her hair. If my memory serves me right she passed away in the middle of the night before Easter morning. That Easter morning I laid in my bed and cried. But mostly I was angry. It seemed so wrong that someone who was one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I'd ever met, who tried never to hurt anyone's feelings, should have to suffer like she seemed to be doing. I was angry at God. "Why didn't you step in? She never did anything wrong!" Quietly but firmly the words from the Bible came to my mind, "He did nothing wrong." In that moment I understood that Jesus could have done it a different way. He didn't have to suffer. God was in charge after all. God's Son could have chosen to avoid the pain. God could have thought of another way to save us. But if God had, would we feel he understood when things seemed unfair. "It is not as though we have a High Priest (Jesus) who doesn't understand our suffering."(Hebrews I think.) But He chose to be one with us, to understand our pain. To live the human condition. Atonement - at one ment some call it.
I still felt sad for my loss and for Grandmas struggle. But I knew God was Love and it was all I needed.
Easter is my favorite holiday. No, I don't like the eggs, bunnies, pretty dresses, easter egg hunt (ok, I do like the egg hunt) but I hate anything that distracts me from what Easter really is. God came to earth and was like us, died for us and gave us hope for eternity. I'd like to write about the Easter of 2004. The worst and the best Easter I've ever had.
A week before Easter Grandma Cora fell when trying to grab a door handle. She broke her hip (I think) and had to have surgery. Something happened during the surgery and she was never the same. We spent the rest of that week taking turns being with her in the hospital. But I don't think she really knew we were there. She thrashed and moaned and struggled all week. During one of my turns with her I thought how people had sung hymns or read scriptures to their loved ones when they were near death and it calmed them. That didn't work for her. We held her hands and tried so hard to comfort her but nothing seemed to work. The best way I can describe her was "distressed." I can't remember how long I was with her but it was one of the worst times in my life.
I never felt so helpless in that way. Finally Gayle had her taken to his home and tried to keep her comfortable. One of the few times she was quiet was when Glada Ann washed her hair. If my memory serves me right she passed away in the middle of the night before Easter morning. That Easter morning I laid in my bed and cried. But mostly I was angry. It seemed so wrong that someone who was one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I'd ever met, who tried never to hurt anyone's feelings, should have to suffer like she seemed to be doing. I was angry at God. "Why didn't you step in? She never did anything wrong!" Quietly but firmly the words from the Bible came to my mind, "He did nothing wrong." In that moment I understood that Jesus could have done it a different way. He didn't have to suffer. God was in charge after all. God's Son could have chosen to avoid the pain. God could have thought of another way to save us. But if God had, would we feel he understood when things seemed unfair. "It is not as though we have a High Priest (Jesus) who doesn't understand our suffering."(Hebrews I think.) But He chose to be one with us, to understand our pain. To live the human condition. Atonement - at one ment some call it.
I still felt sad for my loss and for Grandmas struggle. But I knew God was Love and it was all I needed.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Champaign/Urbana
As I turned on the computer the big news was about who was the richest man on earth now. I am absolutely positive he is not as rich as I am. One of the most rich and beautiful times in our lives was when we lived in Champaign/Urbana Illinois for 2 years. Rich because of our dear friends and beautiful because it's where our 2 first sons were born. We moved there after Terry graduated from respiratory therapy school in Columbia, Missouri. He accepted a job at Parkland Junior College as teacher of respiratory therapy in Champaign. We lived in the back of the church - a 3 bedroom apartment hooked directly on. It seemed our home was the center of an active community of couples who came and went to our church. Each couple was completely unique and blessed us more than any million could. I will tell about each, not because anyone cares to read it but because the retelling gives me such joy. I am smiling as I write.
The first to become our friends were Bill and Barb Gardner. We were so lonely when we moved there. We had no tv and had just moved further from Montana and Missouri families. I recall particularly one day just dropping in on Gardners because we wanted to get to know them better. We had been at Graceland when they were there but hadn't run in their circles. I'm sure they had been napping and would rather we had not come but we were a bit desperate for company. They welcomed us and our friendship began. He was a Chemist and she some kind of secretary. Funny, that didn't seem to important to us except that they were both so smart and interesting. We became pregnant upon arrival and 3 months later they were pregnant also. As became 4 other couples in the congregation. We had Matt first and then everyone else joined in! When Matt was born they came often to see and hold him and 3 months later,after Katie was born I watched her in the daytime while they worked. Many evenings after work they would come and pick up Katie and have supper with us. They loved my applesauce meatloaf and chocolate cake. We celebrated so many birthdays with them, especially Matt and Katie's first. Bill and Terry became fast friends. Bill would go to Terry's baseball games and root him on saying things like, "Unload the piano Reiff" as Terry ran the bases! Bill was the one whose sermon on grace transformed us spiritually. He said, "God will never love you more than he loves you today no matter what you do." He planned the service where our babies were blessed. While he and Terry chatted in the church basement they overflowed the baptismal fount where our other friend, Jim Woodley was going to be baptised. Bill says, "A deacon who deacs is worth many elders." They loved to eat. They would go on "gut busters", eating alot to stretch their stomachs and then not eating the day we would drive to Indiana to a seafood buffet where we would stuff ourselves. They are those old friends who are just as wonderful and dear each time we see them again.
Max and Daisy Matthews were about the age we are now. He was the pastor, they had 2 children who were older and they took all the young couples under their wings like the parents who were too far for us to see every day. They were fun and funny, wise and very loving. She gave Matt his first bath (though she said he wasn't very dirty!) And brought me the most delicious fruit salad that tasted so good. And Max, along with Terry's Dad, blessed Matt. We would go to their home and have wonderful fellowship. It was a delight to be with them.
Jim and Cindy Woodly lived on a farm a few miles from town. He took care of horses for the man who owned the farm but they both were "hands" who kept the place running. It was their home on a braided rug that Matt rolled over for the first time as the men bucked bails with Jim and Cindy cooked a wonderful meal of friend chicken and mashed potatoes. Jim was strong as an ox, throwing large bails up into the loft of the barn without any trouble. Cindy was determined, confident, strong, loved animals and a very hard worker. She loved to wait on us and made us feel so welcome. They got a divorce after they left Urbana.
Cindy's parents were Joyce and John Thumm. He was a 70 in the church and traveled alot. But while we were there they began a group called "The Edge of Adventure" using a book by Keith Green. Thumms, Gardners, Matthews and us - can't remember who else shared together in that small group and got so close as we shared from the heart. John said once that if he had a month to live he would go to a warm place with all his children and spend the month there. I couldn't believe he wouldn't be trying to save one more soul. They are one of the most loving couples I've ever met. I still could sit and talk with Joyce and feel like I could tell her anything from the depths of my soul and not be criticized. She told me that God never took them anywhere but what he didn't help them want to go before they found out they were going. They had spent some time in Okinawa. She also told me that there was nothing wrong with nakedness as she told me about bathing in public baths in Japan. I remember being shocked and it took me years to understand how true that is. It was those frequent moves that hardened Cindy's heart and made her determined to never move again. Joyce told me when they had made one move while Cindy was in high school that for a whole year she refused to come out of her room after she came home from school. She wasn't going to make any move friends that she would have to leave.
Lynn and Christy Misselt had one preschool son, Jason, when we moved to Urbana and Andrew, their second, was the last of a series of babies born while were were there. He was in Grad school and she stayed home. Her commitment to being home with Jason was their reason for eating things like radish sandwiches. They bought a home not far from us so they would walk by on their way to the grocery. One day they came by so excited because they had bought a hersheys candy bar to share. A big treat for them. They shared one day that they were so frustrated because Jason had eaten his whole hamburger at McDonalds. They were used to being able to eat the remains. Christy and Lynn were quiet, gentle people though she was strong, disciplined and determined. It was not a surprise to us when she told us that her mother told them growing up that (speaking of toilet paper) "three squares was enough". Christy said, "Even I know that 3 squares is NOT enough." Jason was active and loud. When we moved to KC, they moved to the Minnesota area to be near her parents. She told me that they went to family counseling there and regretted they hadn't done it sooner. They left our church after leaving Urbana- said they never could believe the Book of Mormon. They have a wonderful family and still live in Minnesota. We all still keep in touch touch.
Sally and George walton were another couple who we weren't as close to. They were country western people and kind of simple, though I'm not even sure why I say that. They just hung on the edge of our group, listening quietly.
There were other people in the church, one couple who called their little girl, "stupid" or some such name rather than her real name.
When family came to visit us they always commented on the diversity of our friendships. It was that which made us rich. Writing this morning I can't help but think how those people shaped our lives. I believe God used them to prepare us for ministry. It was a time of strength and joy. When we left each of the other couples moved around the country. Matthews to McAllen Texas, Gardners to SanDiego, California, Woodleys and Thumms to Independence, Missouri, Misselts to Minnesota.
And us to start Medical School in Kansas City, Missouri. When we see them again we feel a closeness that has never gone away. I was pregnant all but 6 months of the 2 years I was in Urbana. Seeing one of them later they said they didn't remember I was so skinny! (of course I liked that) until I realize I always had a belly on me there. Nathan was born just a week before we moved. Bill always teases me about almost forgetting him as I closed the door on the apartment. It was only for a second but maybe it was because I realized what a treasure place I was loosing. We closed the door on an amazing time of our lives.
Life has gone on but we have never lived in a place that spoke more of the beauty of a church family, the strength of community.
The first to become our friends were Bill and Barb Gardner. We were so lonely when we moved there. We had no tv and had just moved further from Montana and Missouri families. I recall particularly one day just dropping in on Gardners because we wanted to get to know them better. We had been at Graceland when they were there but hadn't run in their circles. I'm sure they had been napping and would rather we had not come but we were a bit desperate for company. They welcomed us and our friendship began. He was a Chemist and she some kind of secretary. Funny, that didn't seem to important to us except that they were both so smart and interesting. We became pregnant upon arrival and 3 months later they were pregnant also. As became 4 other couples in the congregation. We had Matt first and then everyone else joined in! When Matt was born they came often to see and hold him and 3 months later,after Katie was born I watched her in the daytime while they worked. Many evenings after work they would come and pick up Katie and have supper with us. They loved my applesauce meatloaf and chocolate cake. We celebrated so many birthdays with them, especially Matt and Katie's first. Bill and Terry became fast friends. Bill would go to Terry's baseball games and root him on saying things like, "Unload the piano Reiff" as Terry ran the bases! Bill was the one whose sermon on grace transformed us spiritually. He said, "God will never love you more than he loves you today no matter what you do." He planned the service where our babies were blessed. While he and Terry chatted in the church basement they overflowed the baptismal fount where our other friend, Jim Woodley was going to be baptised. Bill says, "A deacon who deacs is worth many elders." They loved to eat. They would go on "gut busters", eating alot to stretch their stomachs and then not eating the day we would drive to Indiana to a seafood buffet where we would stuff ourselves. They are those old friends who are just as wonderful and dear each time we see them again.
Max and Daisy Matthews were about the age we are now. He was the pastor, they had 2 children who were older and they took all the young couples under their wings like the parents who were too far for us to see every day. They were fun and funny, wise and very loving. She gave Matt his first bath (though she said he wasn't very dirty!) And brought me the most delicious fruit salad that tasted so good. And Max, along with Terry's Dad, blessed Matt. We would go to their home and have wonderful fellowship. It was a delight to be with them.
Jim and Cindy Woodly lived on a farm a few miles from town. He took care of horses for the man who owned the farm but they both were "hands" who kept the place running. It was their home on a braided rug that Matt rolled over for the first time as the men bucked bails with Jim and Cindy cooked a wonderful meal of friend chicken and mashed potatoes. Jim was strong as an ox, throwing large bails up into the loft of the barn without any trouble. Cindy was determined, confident, strong, loved animals and a very hard worker. She loved to wait on us and made us feel so welcome. They got a divorce after they left Urbana.
Cindy's parents were Joyce and John Thumm. He was a 70 in the church and traveled alot. But while we were there they began a group called "The Edge of Adventure" using a book by Keith Green. Thumms, Gardners, Matthews and us - can't remember who else shared together in that small group and got so close as we shared from the heart. John said once that if he had a month to live he would go to a warm place with all his children and spend the month there. I couldn't believe he wouldn't be trying to save one more soul. They are one of the most loving couples I've ever met. I still could sit and talk with Joyce and feel like I could tell her anything from the depths of my soul and not be criticized. She told me that God never took them anywhere but what he didn't help them want to go before they found out they were going. They had spent some time in Okinawa. She also told me that there was nothing wrong with nakedness as she told me about bathing in public baths in Japan. I remember being shocked and it took me years to understand how true that is. It was those frequent moves that hardened Cindy's heart and made her determined to never move again. Joyce told me when they had made one move while Cindy was in high school that for a whole year she refused to come out of her room after she came home from school. She wasn't going to make any move friends that she would have to leave.
Lynn and Christy Misselt had one preschool son, Jason, when we moved to Urbana and Andrew, their second, was the last of a series of babies born while were were there. He was in Grad school and she stayed home. Her commitment to being home with Jason was their reason for eating things like radish sandwiches. They bought a home not far from us so they would walk by on their way to the grocery. One day they came by so excited because they had bought a hersheys candy bar to share. A big treat for them. They shared one day that they were so frustrated because Jason had eaten his whole hamburger at McDonalds. They were used to being able to eat the remains. Christy and Lynn were quiet, gentle people though she was strong, disciplined and determined. It was not a surprise to us when she told us that her mother told them growing up that (speaking of toilet paper) "three squares was enough". Christy said, "Even I know that 3 squares is NOT enough." Jason was active and loud. When we moved to KC, they moved to the Minnesota area to be near her parents. She told me that they went to family counseling there and regretted they hadn't done it sooner. They left our church after leaving Urbana- said they never could believe the Book of Mormon. They have a wonderful family and still live in Minnesota. We all still keep in touch touch.
Sally and George walton were another couple who we weren't as close to. They were country western people and kind of simple, though I'm not even sure why I say that. They just hung on the edge of our group, listening quietly.
There were other people in the church, one couple who called their little girl, "stupid" or some such name rather than her real name.
When family came to visit us they always commented on the diversity of our friendships. It was that which made us rich. Writing this morning I can't help but think how those people shaped our lives. I believe God used them to prepare us for ministry. It was a time of strength and joy. When we left each of the other couples moved around the country. Matthews to McAllen Texas, Gardners to SanDiego, California, Woodleys and Thumms to Independence, Missouri, Misselts to Minnesota.
And us to start Medical School in Kansas City, Missouri. When we see them again we feel a closeness that has never gone away. I was pregnant all but 6 months of the 2 years I was in Urbana. Seeing one of them later they said they didn't remember I was so skinny! (of course I liked that) until I realize I always had a belly on me there. Nathan was born just a week before we moved. Bill always teases me about almost forgetting him as I closed the door on the apartment. It was only for a second but maybe it was because I realized what a treasure place I was loosing. We closed the door on an amazing time of our lives.
Life has gone on but we have never lived in a place that spoke more of the beauty of a church family, the strength of community.
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