First Marriage - Only Marriage - A Love Story

I want to tell a love story - our love story, because it is full of romance,love and fun. Sometimes love stories brim with drama, despair and confusion and though rich and intense, end with sorrow. Ours is still continuing with much love and hope.

Steve and I met briefly in the fall of 1980 at a small church in St. Louis. We both thought the other was attractive, but it wasn’t until the January of 1981 that we had our first real conversation. So, it wasn’t quite ‘love at first sight’, but rather ‘very interested after first long conversation’. I revealed my age to Steve (knowing I was older) and he promised to tell me his age later. A few days later I received a bouquet of the most gorgeous, fragrant, long-stemmed red roses and a box of candy, addressed to: Flowers and Candy. My maiden name was Flowers and my roommates name was Candy. On it a note said: From one born two centuries after Mozart. After a short call to the library I found the answer. Despite the age difference Steve made it clear he was interested in getting to know me.

He had only 5 short weeks left before he transferred back to his job in California. During those weeks we spent most of our available non-work, non-sleep hours together, wining and dining, talking with long walks and sharing our favorites books, quotes, Bible passages, etc. I was a member of an excellent small church that acted as my family, approving him. He got me with lines like: “I thought it would be like Lewis, taking years to find someone to love and that I would be old before I found you.” He was interested in my heart, my feelings, my thoughts, my beliefs and just plain ol’me. I felt secure in his love and could tell he was a man of grace.

Nearing engagement I struggled with fears. I grew up in a home that was broken; no, not divorced, but broken relationships. I wondered if (as Barb Streisand sang), “You won’t bring me flowers anymore.” In response, Steve (now back in California) sent me another bunch of roses with a note saying: “Flowers are becoming to Flowers, just as flowers will be becoming to Ritchies, when Flowers becomes Ritchie”. We married in the summer of 1981 and he surprised me with a honeymoon trip to Scotland and England. After a London Symphony, he rushed me to a bench across the Thames from Westminster Abbey, in order to hear Big Ben strike the hour. He said, “Exactly one year ago I sat here alone, wishing I could share this with someone I love.” God granted that wish.

As the years went on we wanted to figure out ways to share our love story with our four children. One simple thing we did was to get our wedding and honeymoon album out and go through it with the kids. They love to hear about all the lovey-dovey stuff.

Before Scott was born, when John was 2, Alanna, 3½ and Caitlin 5, I spent several hours making a tape for Steve. I talked about our love, then recorded some songs from our dating days, sang songs to him, read poetry and had the kids tell Daddy how much they loved him. To this day, this is one of our families favorite tapes; we all get such a kick when John says, “Daddy, I’m going to give you an oatmeal hug”(we never quite figured out what John was talking about, but he was convincing that it was quite a wonderful thing); and Alanna saying, “Daddy, Daddy; I love you, Daddy (SIGH). Have I told you how much I love you Daddy?” So, parents, if they are preschoolers, toddlers or in grammar school, now is the time to start recording.

A couple years later I took some pictures, glued them on hearts made of construction paper and made them into a mobile using coat hangers. It was quick and inexpensive but the children thought it was special when they came in on Valentine’s morning.

One tired Valentine’s Day evening, Steve surprised me . At dinnertime a babysitter appeared and he told me to put warm clothes on. I fought him on this one, but eventually gave in and about 8 pm we drove down to the beach at Corona Del Mar where he led me to a small cave facing the surf, built a fire and cooked filet mignon with materials he’d smuggled along, including my favorite music to enhance the sound of the surf.

One year we prepared dinner for the kids. We dressed as waiter and waitress and gave them ridiculous menus and bells to call us with. Another year they waited on us, with the table set before the fireplace with candlelight.

In 1997, we were planning our move to Orlando. Homeschooling the kids permitted unusual daytime activities. Because of plant restrictions, we only had the opportunity to visit inside Steve’s work area every few years. The kids and I decorated a table outside the building where he worked with bunches of bright balloons, flowers, candies, gifts, CD player, tablecloth and china plates, then phoned him to meet us outside where we surprised him with a family lunch.

I am not saying we've never argued or disagreed. One time when our oldest was about 4 Steve and I were arguing in the hallway. We realized this was inappropriate. Steve walked into our daughter's room and she was singing, "I hate Jesus". We had never heard such sentiments from her. It was obvious that the tension and pain she was feeling because we were in discord was breaking up her view of life and God. That was a good lesson to us, to keep any further of these 'discussions' as private as possible.

And again, though at times we didn't see eye to eye on issues, we have always been able to remain respectful. There has been weeping at times, but we've always found comfort, peace and unity. Sometimes that 'at times' has been deeply painful but God's love has had His victory. So, our love story in continuing to grow because of God's love that enables us to forgive and move forward.

Children love love. There was nothing more encouraging to them than to see their parents gazing into each other’s eyes, hugging, kissing and cherishing one another. And before they understood the experience of God's love, they sensed that God was real and their world was safe.I want to tell a love story - our love story, because it is full of romance,love and fun. Sometimes love stories brim with drama, despair and confusion and though rich and intense, end with sorrow. Ours is still continuing with much love and hope.

New Book Meme

My bro-in-law tagged me. He's the one that set up my blog in June; each day I learn a little more about the how and what of blogging. So, since HE tagged me, I better respond. Seriously though, words and books are some of my favorite topics, so here goes:

Here are the questions for the current meme:

1. One book that changed your life:

I was a Christian for two years when I was introduced to True Spirituality. It did change my thinking about what it meant to live believing the supernatural was real. It was the first Schaeffer book I read and it always brings me back to why I believe what I do and how to live it out. Reading the rest of his books and having a chance to meet him and hear him teach four times from 73-84 continued to shape me. Though he was not at English L'Abri the shelter there continued to challenge, encourage and teach me why I trusted God even though I didn't understand all of the whys.

2. One book that you've read more than once:

I have to say the series, The Narnia Tales. I've read them once each decade since the 70s, now it is time again. There is much more of an interest in these since the Movie, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe came out. I cant' wait to see how they handle the rest of his tales.

3. One book you'd want on a desert island:

I'd like to sound really literate and say, Les Miserables like Rick did (and he's the one that loaned me his copy decades ago. I finally read it two years ago) but I think actually a collection of Shakepeare's works would be great. I'd finally be able to sit for hours and days and soak up His stories.

4. One book that made you laugh:

I'll never forget being in a motel in the middle of Missouri doing a recruiting trip for the school I worked for when I was delighted with Kurk Vonnegut's collection of short stories, Welcome to the Monkey House. I've always wondered what my neighboring rooms thought I was doing in there laughing so.

5. One book that made you cry:

Of Mice and Men. I read it on the school bus when a junior in high school. I didn't have a world view that helped me understand this tragedy. It broke my heart and I wept.

6. One book that you wish had been written:

One that helps me understand better God's sovereignty and pain and evil. I believe there are folks who understand this better than I and I have read some of their books, but it still baffles me. Guiness's Doubt: Faith in Two Minds was extremely helpful but I'm ready for Doubt, part II: living in a fallen world and how to remain joyfull.

7. One book that you wish had never been written:

I don't have to think long on this one. There is a book called The Way Home written in the early 80s. I could never remember the name of it and kept calling it No Way Out. It describes a legalistic rule list that equates holiness for a woman with complete misunderstanding of women as individuals in their home and in their culture. Much wrong exegesis and sentiment. Any who knows me know I am not a feminist but next to Pride's book I look like one.

8. One book you're currently reading:

I've read half of Esther Meek's Longing to Know and I'm re-reading it. Superb evaluation of Polanyi's concepts of knowing. I haven't read much philosophy so am very much an outsider here, but she helps the likes of me to start to understand how we know what we know.

9. One book you've been meaning to read:

Uncle Tom's Cabin. This has been recommended to me so often by family (Rick), friend (Debbie Scholz_+) and heroes (Steve's fav professor at Harvey Mudd, Bill Allen and his wife). I've just begun but have by sidetracked by Larry Crabb and Nancy Pearcey and a few spy novels to boot.

My tags will come later in the day.

A Day At the Beach

(My husband & I shared a day with our 4 children,
ages 16, 14, 13 and 10)


Delightful dolphins dabbling
In seashells and sand,
On crested waves and crashing currents;
Building sand castles, dreams
And make believe schemes.
But most of all,
Building bridges that cover
Childish jealousies.

Delightful dolphins-
Intertwined, independent,
Siblings and friends.
One for all and all for one
On this day of adventure;
Glimpses of Glory
Playing with the Wind,
Believing they’re free.

Memories photographed in my mind.
I collect them all;
like seashells I carry
Them back
Cushioning them in my love.
They are my treasures to cherish
In the winter months to come.
Yes, I will remember
The dance of the dolphins
And their gift of joy.


(Dedicated to June who delights with me)

Uphill by Christina Rossetti

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.

CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

very few other poets or authors capture the tender heart of a believing chrisitan's walk through life, pain and dying. MomCat (Cathryn)

poem by Madeline L'Engle

Here is one of my favorite poems of encouragement. Enjoy - Cathryn

First Coming
by Madeline L’Engle

He did not wait till the world was ready,
Till men and nations were at peace
He came when the Heavens were unsteady.
And prisoners cried out for release.

He did not wait for the perfect time
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime.
Turned water into wine. He did not wait

Till hearts were pure. In joy he came
To a tarnished world of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
He came, and his light would not go out.

He came to a world which did not mesh,
To heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
The Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot wait till the world is sane
To raise our songs with joyful voice,
For to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with love. REJOICE! Rejoice!

Florida Musings - July

FLORIDA EVENING MUSINGS

The billowy-cloud-filled-pink sunset over Lake Hays tonight spoke volumes of praise to His beauty and creativity, "stormy winds fulfilling His Word." California was gorgeous but these summer stormy nights are glorious.

I'm facing south onto our pool and lake , trees (what's left after Charlie) are full and dripping green, egrets and cranes nibbling on the yard which is easier to scavenge after it's mowed, clouds look like they've been painted on, reflecting their twins beneath them. I'll always miss the beaches of California but these palms, oaks and bamboos with their enveloping tropical feel and the silvered lake are hard to beat.

Can Grief Be Called Good?

I wonder as I sit here aching tonight, my head pounding, my sinuses full, eyes swollen and heaviness on my heart that feel like weights, can grief be called good?

I’m too young to see several of my peers dying; that’s what my folks are doing in their 80’s. They seem to take it so in stride. Maybe they just appear that way or they’ve learned to cope with the pain by becoming stoic.

I’ve lost 4 close friends who lived in Texas, Arizona and Florida. Three were younger than me and I’d been close to them for 30, 25, 18 and one year. I do realize that it is a temporary lose for they, like I, trusted in a God who holds them in His hands now. And we wait to meet again…in heaven, in heaven.

I am very thankful that their pains are past (heart problems, rheumatoid arthritis, diabetes and cancer) and there are moments when I am able to focus on the joy of knowing that. But then there are the moments when I think of Deborah and her laughing at funny jokes or remember with such laughter how often I’d run her into side-view mirrors; I kept forgetting she couldn’t see them (she was blind).

I want to call Jayne and read her ‘my story’ that I had a chance to share; she’d be excited that I’m writing more lately. Or talk with Jennifer about being back at our college, and ‘do you remember when’. Then I start to cry because I think of one lose and then I cry for all of them. What was special about them? Partly it was our long years of knowing each other. Two of them I met during college and graduate school when I was single. They watched me struggle through my single years. We prayed for good husbands and God brought them. All watched me raise my little band of kids (4) from babies into the teen years and even college. One friend’s daughter and mine became good friends at the college we all went to. That is sweet.

Two of my friends hadn’t lived near me in over 20 years and one lived near me all of our 18 years friendship. They all had different gifts and personalities. But what they had in common was their love for Jesus and their love for me. All of them were there for me at times in my life when I needed a friend. Though our talks often only happened 2 times a year (with the ones apart) they were as rich and healing in my life as the one who lived near me for 18 years. I would listen to them; each of them had pains, physical and emotional because they all lived in a real world and faced it head on. Sometimes I would cry and they would listen and sometimes vise verse.

And then there was Camille whom I came to love in her last year. We (small group bible study) watched her face her dying, with acceptance, with graciousness. We hadn't known her very long in her living but she gave us the privilege of walking through the shadow of death with her. We grew to know and love her in her dying. A saint gone before us. Grief is good when, in our longing for people we love, we also long for heaven.

I’m very tender these days. I cry easy and my teenagers roll their eyes. Though I have lost so much in losing them, I do realize that I am very rich with the love they gave me. My sadness reminds me that I’m not home yet. I actually feel closer to heaven now; I have friends there and the reunion is soon, very soon.

It is good because I am not without hope. Somehow the tears feel like God’s tears; that He weeps with me for the pain that is a part of His children’s lives, like the pain you experience when your child hurts. I ponder how those who don't have comfidence in heaven walk through times of grief. In their grief, I doubt they can experience any goodness.

I believe grief brings me into God's bosom; my heart seems fuller, sights and sounds of life are richer. Yes, grief is good for it places me close to God’s heart. Without it I run from what is real and close off the pain of parting and remembering. God gives me good grief just as he gives me tears to express the reality of living in a fallen world. Truly it is only good when it brings me as a child to my Heavenly Father, knowing that His Balm to my soul will only be complete with healing when I see him face to face. Oh, Heaven come down!