My husband has always liked short, but meaningful quotes that he reads or hears. He has a notebook where he writes them down. He also has just come up with many on his own over the years of teaching/preaching.
I am getting a new computer (my current one is almost eleven years old and just cannot keep up with all the new updates in the internet world). It’s like driving a model T car on the interstate. Does not work.
Going through all the documents and pictures I have accumulated in those eleven years is crazy. What needs to go to the trash bin and what needs to be saved to a new computer???
Going through my husband’s folder, I found one of his lists of quotes. Some are serious and thoughtful; some are just silly. Most of these are his own, but if there are any that are not original to him, I apologize for the plagiarism.
Before deleting, I thought I would share.
Say “no” to sin and “yes” to God.
Eternity is too long to be wrong.
What part of “thou shalt not” did you not understand?
You have a right to be wrong if you want to.
There is more to serving God than 11 am on Sunday morning.
Emotion without devotion is just commotion.
Serving God is walking straight after you repent.
I never saw a U-Haul behind a hearse.
If you want something out of church, put something in.
It is not what Grandma told you, what you think or what you saw that is the truth, but what “thus says the Lord.”
The last part of March is full of memories for me.
It was March 29 I married my first sweetheart. Lonnie had just come home from a journey of duty as a Marine in Vietnam. We were married and quickly headed out to the USMC base in Quantico, Virginia. We were blessed with almost thirteen years of marriage and given two beautiful daughters, Rebekah Rose and Jessica Lynn. This March 29th we would have celebrated 54 years.
Tragically on March 24, just days before our thirteenth anniversary my beloved husband was killed in an accident. He had told me he had a special evening planned for our anniversary. I often wonder what it would have been.
Three years ago, on March 22 my second husband had emergency surgery for a brain bleed. That was one of the longest days in my life as I wondered if he would live – and if he lived, would his brain be injured beyond repair.
So thankful he recovered and is fine now. I tease him that if he had to pick a time to be seriously injured and facing possible death, he could have picked a better date than two days before I lost my first husband.
So – this time of year as I reflect on what March has brought me – good and bad – one thing stands out in my mind. Through it all, the joy and thankfulness that God brought Lonnie home safe from Vietnam and allowed me to be his wife; the sorrow and pain of his death; the fear of losing another husband; the joy and thankfulness that Paul’s life was spared – through it all – God has been there. He has given me the strength in all circumstances.
So March makes me thankful that I am His child! It reminds me that no matter what life may bring my way, with God at my side, I am victorious!
It was in January 39 years ago I walked into a church in Bethalto, Illinois, not knowing that I was about to meet my future husband. As Paul and I remember that special day, we still marvel at how God brought us together. So – once again, I share our story.
“We as a community of friends are gathered here in God’s presence to witness Paul and Barbara’s renewal of commitment to one another and to ask God’s continued blessings on them. Marriage, like our creation as men and women owes its existence to God. It is His will and purpose that a husband and wife should love each other throughout their life. Shall we pray?”
This was how our Pastor began the ceremony when my husband and I renewed our wedding vows on our 25th anniversary. We still love to remember that story.
Here’s the story!
While living in the state of Washington, my husband, Paul, found himself a single father trying to raise two teenagers. Needing support, he returned to his home town to be near family. He was very lonely and began to pray for a Christian wife. Since he was a minister and also loved to sing, he asked God if it would be possible that this wife would also play the piano and be able to work with him in the ministry.
Her name will be Barbara
While praying, he felt impressed in his spirit that God would grant him that request and that his future wife would be named “Barbara.” He was afraid at first to share that thought with anyone as he felt they would think he was crazy. But it was so real to him he needed to reveal it to someone. He finally related that information with a couple at the large church he was attending but no one else.
Four months later I walked into the church with my two young daughters.
While living in Southeast Missouri, my first husband was accidentally killed leaving me with two small daughters to care for. Everything I read about grief told me that I should make no sudden changes or moves for at least a year. However, after a year of trying to make it far from home, I decided to return to Illinois where my family could give me much-needed support. While it was great to be close to my family again, I still carried a heavy load of grief and sorrow. I tried to be strong for my two young daughters, but after a while I realized I did not want to continue living alone. Although I longed to find happiness again, I knew that my daughters’ happiness and safety were more important than my own. If I ever remarried, it would have to be a very special man who would love my daughters as well as me.
I asked God to give me a godly husband who would help me raise my daughters.
One year after moving back to Illinois, I decided to attend the church where my parents were members. When I walked in the foyer, I saw a couple that I recognized. They were friends with my first husband’s parents but I had not seen them in years. They seemed extremely happy to see me, but it was only months later that I found out why my sudden appearance at their church was so exciting to them. They were the couple that Paul had shared his secret with.
After greeting me, they hurried to locate my future husband and tell him, “There she is.”
He had no idea what they meant until they told him the red head that had just walked into the church was named Barbara. Paul told them to not say anything, but if this was the Barbara God had promised, God would work it out. A few weeks later Paul asked me on a date and the rest, as they say, is history.
And a good history it has been. Paul has proven to be a wonderful husband and, even more important, a wonderful father to my two daughters and grandfather to my grandchildren.
Today as we look back at the 39 years we have shared, we are grateful that God answered our prayers. I am no longer a red head, but he loves me anyway. 🙂
As another new year comes around, my mind races back to other new years and other times. Recently I was thinking about the life of a pastor and his family and the frustrations, the laughter and the joy that life brings. Three different stories came to mind that illustrate all three scenarios.
One Sunday morning as my husband was greeting the church members after service, one man stopped him and said, “Pastor, you know what is wrong with this church?” Smiling while thinking “I didn’t know anything was wrong – and who asked you,” my husband asked him what he thought was wrong. His response: “You are too organized.”
Continuing to shake hands with the other members, a woman stopped him and said, “Pastor, you know what is wrong with this church?” Now my husband took a deep breath, smiled and said “What is wrong?” Her response: “You are not organized enough”
There was a woman in one of our churches that bounced from church to church throughout the community. She was a little slow mentally and when she came to our church we tried our best to make her feel welcome.
One Sunday my husband told the congregation that we would be out-of-town the following weekend as we were going to visit relatives in North Carolina. He was encouraging everyone to please attend as members often stay home if the pastor is not going to be there.
This woman raised her hand and when my husband asked her what she wanted she asked him: “Is Barbara going with you?” Of course I was going and my husband replied in the affirmative.
The entire congregation tried so hard not to laugh when she said, “Well, if she can’t go with you, I can.”
One morning as my husband and I headed across the parking lot from the parsonage to the church office a car pulled into the driveway and a young woman got out to talk to us. She was looking for the church that was administering the WIC (Women, Infants and Children) nutrition program. We gave her directions to the local church that had the program.
She lingered after we gave her the information and seemed as if she was troubled and wanted to talk. We invited her into the office and she began to share how she was pregnant and wanted to keep the baby but her boyfriend told her it was either him or the baby. If she did not abort the child, he was kicking her out of their apartment and breaking off their relationship. She clearly did not want to abort the child but was unsure if she could raise a child by herself.
We spend time with her discussing her options.
She could obtain an abortion and keep her home and relationship with her boyfriend.
She could seek help from others, give birth to the baby and then put it up for adoption.
She could seek help from others and raise the child herself.
While we tried not to judge her or her boyfriend we naturally advocated for the life of the child. It was clear she really wanted that, but just needed some help in not only making that decision but being able to have resources so she could keep that choice.
I made a list of phone numbers of various resources that would help her including the local Pregnancy Resource Center. We also gave her our phone number and told her we would do anything we could to help her with doctor visits, baby supplies, etc.
After prayer with her, she left saying she did not know what she would do but she would keep in mind our offer of help and the list of resources I had given her.
Weeks, months went by and we never heard from her again. I agonized over whether we had not made it clear enough that we and our church were willing to help her.
Almost 3 years later we had a district meeting at our church. Several other churches in the area were in attendance. A young woman walked up to me with a beautiful little girl in her arms. She asked: “Do you recognize me?”
I did not know who she was. Tears of joy quickly came to my eyes as she identified herself as the young woman who we had counseled and prayed with over the decision of abortion. Although she had never called us back she had gone to the Pregnancy Resource Center. They helped her with doctor visits and baby clothes and gave her the friendship she needed to carry though with the birth of that little girl.
She thanked me that we had taken the time to help her walk through the options she had and offered resources to help her in her choice of life.
So – you add it up. The joys and the laughs far outweigh the frustrations.
The frustrations are gone, but the funny things still bring a laugh, and the joys still make it all seem worthwhile.
Six years ago a dear friend died just before Christmas.
My husband and I had watched him battle cancer (two different kinds) for over two years. It was hard to see him slowly lose the battle. He fought hard and he never lost his courage or his great sense of humor.
His family asked my husband to do the funeral service. It was an extremely hard thing for Paul to do. They had been friends for almost 20 years. In the very beginning of their friendship, I had surgery for breast cancer. The cancer was very advanced and my husband was frightened as his mother had died from breast cancer. Richard came to the hospital and sat with my husband through my surgery and did not leave until I was out of recovery. That cemented their friendship.
That – and their love of golf and corny jokes. Although they claimed they played golf, I think from listening to their tales that they spend more time laughing at each other’s skills than they did actually playing the game.
After my retirement, I often joined the two of them for breakfast. It was such fun to just sit and listen to them as they teased one another and shared stories of their time on the golf course.
While it was hard for my husband to do the funeral service, he was honored that the family said that was what Richard would want. As we arrived at the funeral home, his daughters handed us an envelope. On the outside it said, “Paul and his bride.” That was how Richard always referred to me – “Paul’s bride.” When Paul and Richard met, if I was not present, he would always ask, “How is your bride?” The handwriting on the outside was clearly not Richard’s. So we assumed it was just a card saying thank you for doing the service.
When we opened the card it was a Christmas card. Thinking it was a little strange that his daughters were giving us a Christmas card, we opened it up. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the signature inside the card. It said simply, “Richard.” We immediately recognized his signature. Also enclosed was a picture of him.
His daughters told us although Richard never sent Christmas cards, just before his death he asked them to get him some Christmas cards. He then signed a few and asked them to give them to his special friends at his funeral. He knew he would not be here for Christmas and he wanted us to know what our friendship had meant to him.
This is a special card my husband and I will treasure forever.
Today most of us think of Christmas carols as something we hear on the radio, or we sing at church on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day services.
However, singing carols in many places used to be more than just singing a song at church. It was a time to connect with neighbors as people would gather together and go from house to house singing Christmas songs.
In doing research on old, unknown Christmas carols I found that it is believed caroling began in the 13th century. Neighbors would sing to one another, and the term used was “wassailing.” The word comes from an Old Norse term that meant “be well and in good health.
In England as neighbors gathered to share songs and wish each other well, they also shared warm drinks. By the 14th century the word “wassail” become associated with the warm drink shared at Christmastime. It is wine, beer or cider with sugar, spices and fruit.
Apparently as the community began to share maybe a bit too much of the wassail the Christmas season became quite a time of parties and drinking (does this sound like us today?) and the Puritans Parliament in England actually outlawed celebrating the holiday in the 1640s and 1650s.
English bishop Hugh Latimer, said that “Men dishonor Christ more in the twelve days of Christmas, than in all the twelve months besides.”
In New England Christmas caroling was condemned by the famous minister Cotton Mather who wrote in 1712 that the “Feast of Christ’s Nativity is spent in Reveling, Dicing, Carding, Masking, and in all Licentious Liberty …by Mad Mirth, by long eating, by hard Drinking, by lewd Gaming, by rude Reveling. . . .”
Growing up my church family often gathered on Christmas Eve and visited the homes of older members who might not be able to attend church services. We would stand outside their homes and sing carols. Sometimes they would invite us in to share a warm drink. When we were missionaries in the Philippines, we were serenaded at Christmas by students at one of the Bible colleges where we taught.
Even this year our church will be gathering to share Christmas carols with the community. We will gather afterwards to share warm cocoa and cookies.
If you would like to try a pot of wassail, here is a recipe from allrecipes. There are many other recipes available if you google.
Ingredients: ½ gallon apple cider 1 (46 fluid ounce) can pineapple juice 46 fluid ounces cranberry juice cocktail 1 orange, thinly sliced 5 cinnamon sticks 1 tablespoon whole allspice berries 1 tablespoon whole cloves
Step 1 Pour apple cider, pineapple juice, and cranberry juice into a stockpot. Place orange slices, cinnamon sticks, allspice berries, and cloves in a muslin pouch or directly into the apple cider mixture. Bring apple cider mixture to a boil; reduce heat and simmer until flavors have blended, 15 to 20 minutes. Remove orange slices and spices before serving.
Here is a second recipe from the “Williamsburg Cookbook” that is served at Colonial Williamsburg.
Ingredients 1 cup sugar 4 cinnamon sticks 3 lemon slices 2 cups pineapple juice 2 cups orange juice 6 cups dry red wine ½ cup lemon juice 1 cup dry sherry 2 lemons, sliced
Directions: Boil the sugar, cinnamon sticks, and 3 lemon slices in ½ cup of water for 5 minutes and strain. Discard the cinnamon sticks and lemon slices.
Heat but do not boil the remaining ingredients. Combine with the syrup, garnish with the lemon slices, and serve hot.
If you try one of the recipes, I would love to know which you tried and if you liked it. (But don’t drink too much and cause a riot.)
Normally on Friday I post a list of ten things I have found interesting in my reading and listening to various speakers. For the month of December, I am going to instead post the history of a beloved Christmas song.
The one today is one I hope you will take time to read – and then pray for the Ukrainian nation.
I have always loved this song. It is so cheerful and full of the holiday spirit at Christmas time.
The song first came to worldwide recognition when the Ukrainian National Chorus conducted by Alexander Koshetz performed at Carnegie Hall in October 1922. Dressed in their traditional embroidered dress the audience responded to their rendition of the song by cheering for encores and throwing flowers on the stage.
This traditional Ukrainian song was listed on the playbill as “Shchedryk.” This was actually a pagan folk song that was sung on the New Year and had nothing to do with bells or Christmas. The song tells of a swallow summoning the master of the house to look at the coming spring season and the harvest it will bring. In 1916 composer and teacher, Mykola Leontovych added music to the lyrics. He had worked for several years on his arrangement and orchestration of “Shchedryk.” He sent his arrangement to the director of the National Chorus in August 1916 and several months later it was performed by the choir in Kyiv.
This song is closely associated with Ukraine’s history. When the Romanov dynasty fell in March 1917, the Ukrainian People’s Republic was declared in 1918. Its president, Symon Petilura, wanted the world to know about Ukrainian culture in the hopes it would gain support for his new state. So, the Ukrainian National Chorus began a worldwide tour. On their tour they would pass out brochures with information about their new country.
While the choir was touring Europe and the USA, the Cheka, which later became the KGB, began killing thousands in an effort to bring Ukraine back into Russia which was now ruled by the Bolsheviks. This period became known as the Red Terror.
This terror reached to the composer of this song. On January 23, 1921, the composer was shot by an agent of the Soviets, Afanasy Grishchenko. He had asked for shelter for the night at the composer’s family home. During the night he shot Leontovych with a rifle.
Hearing a performance of the original song, Peter J. Wilhousky copyrighted the music and wrote new lyrics (not based on the Ukrainian folk song) which he published in 1936. The new version became popular in the USA and Canada and became associated with Christmas.
By 1921, the short-lived People’s Republic had fallen. Its terriitories were divided between Russia, Poland, Romanis and Czechoslovakia. It was not until the collapose of the Soviet Union in 1991 that Ukraine became an independent nation once again.
While we enjoy this cheerful song with its cheerful lyrics, let us remember we owe our thanks to the Ukrainian nation for this song. Let us pray for this people who have fought so hard and so long for their own country.
I posted this in 2018 but today I celebrate 68 years of walking with my Savior, my best friend.
Life has had its ups and downs, but one thing has remained true. Jesus has been faithful to me through it all.
He was there when my father left my mother and I when I was fourteen. “When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.” Psalm 27:10
He was there when my husband was killed in an accident leaving me with two little girls to raise. “I will be with you always.” Matthew 28:20
He was there when the doctor told me “The odds are not in your favor” and gave me little hope of surviving more than a few more years. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil for you are with me.” Psalm 23
He is here as I began to age and face pain of arthritis and all the other issues of the aging. “The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the Lord, they will flourish in the courts of our God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green, proclaiming, “The Lord is upright; he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him.”
In 74 years of life, I have made a lot of decisions, some good, some bad. But that decision as a six-year-old was the best one I ever made and one I have never regretted.
Shortly after my retirement my husband and I made a trip to North Carolina to visit our children who live there. On the way we decided to stop and explore the Biltmore Estate in Ashville, North Carolina.
Built by George Vanderbilt, grandson of famed industrialist and philanthropist Cornelius Vanderbilt, in Asheville, North Carolina in 1887 it is unbelievable how big it is. The home contains over four acres of floor space and includes 35 bedrooms, 43 bathrooms and 65 fireplaces.
On the grounds is a conservatory which is full of beautiful orchids. We were told there are over 600 different orchids. I could not of course get pictures of all 600 but I did my best to capture some of the most beautiful ones.
While there we decided to spend one night at The Inn on Biltmore Estate. We knew it would be expensive, but thought after all these years of working, we deserved one night of luxury. The view from our room was wonderful.
The lobby and lounge areas made us feel so pampered.
In our bedroom we found custom bathrobes and slippers. They offered complimentary night turn-down service, but we passed on that.
When it was time for supper my husband suggested we go into town to find a restaurant, but I wanted to enjoy a meal in their dining room – it looked so special.
Wanting to keep me happy, he agreed. After we sat down and saw the menus, I realized this was probably not a good idea. But, too embarrassed to get up and leave, and still wanting to enjoy one night of luxury, we stayed. The food was excellent and we really enjoyed the meal. When we had finished the waiter asked if we would like a cup of coffee. My husband passed, but I asked for a cup. Thinking after spending such a large amount on the meal, the coffee would be complimentary, I sipped my cup that was served in very delicate china and enjoyed every drop.
I was very upset when we got our bill (which I knew would be much too high for our budget) to discover they had charged us $4.00 for this tiny cup of coffee.
The next morning we enjoyed some coffee in the library (which was free and served in paper cups) and read the newspapers savoring one more moment of luxury.
I felt a little guilty for spending that much money for one night – but looking back now I’m glad we did it. What price do you put on good memories!