This day in history

Exactly 55 years ago today, two amazing people pledged their lives to one another forever.

Last night as I sat at the dinner table talking to them, I learned something I'd never heard before. Part of the story I knew, but there was one BIG piece I'd never known.

Dad was in college on a naval ROTC scholarship and as such, he had to go on a six-week midshipman's cruise. Mom was "back home," and though she loved him, she feared her high school romance might not be "the one" she should commit to forever. She was young and hadn't dated too many others, and she felt she needed to make sure she wasn't going to make a mistake. While he was at sea, she dated a little. Nothing serious, just general "getting to know you" types of dates.

At one point while Dad was away, she wrote him a "Dear John" letter, which is funny considering his name is, well... John. She has always said she knew before the letter hit the bottom of the mailbox, it was a mistake. She could only trust that IF this relationship was meant to be, the letter wouldn't matter.

Dad got the letter. Dad ignored what it said.

Smart man!


When his ship returned, he got his pay and spent everything he had on her engagement ring. All he could think of was getting to her. He had no money. He was Norfolk, Virginia at the naval base, and she was at home in Roanoke, Virginia. How did he get there?

He hitchhiked.

For 200 miles.

He didn't even go to his own home to see his family after six weeks at sea. He went to her home.

When he got there, her mother told him she wasn't home because....

SHE

WAS

OUT

ON

A

DATE.

On.a.date.

With someone else.


Being very sure of himself and his intention, he opted to stay there and wait for her.


To come home.

From her date.

With someone else.




That absolutely cracked me up when I heard that last night!

And yes, it was meant to be.



Happy 55th, Mom and Dad. I love you both more than words can say. You have set the bar high and given your daughters a most excellent model of a Christian marriage. Thank you for loving each other right.in.front.of.us. Thank you honoring and respecting each other. Thank you for being faithful to your vows and to our Lord.

This girl is glad an ill-conceived "Dear John" letter missed its mark.

1953
2008

Windblown Puppies

Ever seen a little dog in a wind tunnel before?

Me either.

But here's what I imagine it would look like.

This is Samson in the 35+ mph wind gusts we had last week. Studly and I were laughing so hard at him, we had to take pictures. Unfortunately, the REALLY funny ones are so blurry, you can't even tell it's a dog!

He looks like a hamster!
Hey! Who turned out the lights?
Who keeps doing that?
My eyelids are going to turn inside out!

He couldn't figure out what was happening to his tail. He was walking in front of me, and every time a gust would come up, he'd turn around and glare at me (yes, dogs can glare) as if to say, "Will you STOP doing THAT?"

We shouldn't make fun of our pups. But hey... if we don't, who will?

God and the US Postal Service - Part Three

Part one of the story can be found here.
Part two is here.


Several days later we were in our Sunday School class, and without mentioning names, Studly Man told the story of what had transpired with Jeff. There was much rejoicing, especially among those who had been praying with us about God's direction for our ministry. However, there was one couple who didn't seem to be quite as joyful as the others. No one noticed but me, but I certainly DID notice. No one else in the room (except Studly) knew what I knew.

You see, the two people I was watching were the couple who had SENT the donation check and affirming letter. I couldn't figure out why their faces didn't light up when they heard how God had orchestrated so many details as a result of their gift. All I could do was pray...

After class, the wife in this couple approached me. She asked - knowing the answer in advance - if the letter and envelope Studly had talked about had come from her home. I confirmed it had. Her face was red, but not with embarrassment as I first thought. It was frustration, and maybe even a little anger. I told her Studly had shared the story not to embarrass them, but to highlight the miracles God performed in getting that envelope to its intended destination. God doesn't NEED us to accomplish His will. He works it out in spite of us!

It was a while later when I began to understand the magnitude of that conversation. She and her husband were newlyweds at that time and still struggling with the communication game for marriage. She had written the letter and made out the check. She had carefully placed them in the envelope, written the parts of the address she could remember off the top of her head, and placed a stamp on it. She put it with the other outgoing mail for her husband to drop off at the post office. He glanced only briefly at it. He figured if she'd gotten all the way to the point of putting the stamp on the envelope, it must be ready to go. She assumed he'd notice the holes in the address and fill them in. He assumed she had completely addressed the envelope.
A spotlight was now shining on a critical issue in their marriage: they weren't communicating very well! They were frustrated and headed down a rocky path.

We as believers know how satan (and yes, I meant for that to have a lower case "s" because the enemy doesn't deserve capitalization) prowls like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. That includes Christian marriages. If satan can gain a foothold, he will tear apart a marriage. Communication is an easy target.

Thankfully this precious couple has made great strides in learning each other's language and how to communicate more effectively. The Lord has blessed them individually and corporately, and they in turn, have continued to bless others including Studly and me and Faithful Friend Ministry.

Now, two and a half years later, I am amazed when I look back on that letter and check and how God used it so obviously in the lives of five of His children. The bigger picture though is how He used the contents of that envelope to bring hope to hundreds of hurting, broken, desperate teenagers in prison who had never known true and abiding unconditional love and had never been given any real hope. Through the contents of that envelope, many have heard the Truth for the first time, and many others have come to a saving knowledge of and personal relationship with Jesus Christ.

Now tell me how one could believe that God is too busy to be bothered with details.

God and the US Postal Service - Part Two

If you missed Part One, check it out here.


Fast forward several months. Since Studly's business is home-based, he was often able to invite Jeff in for a glass of iced tea when he'd see him out on his route. We'd also occasionally see Jeff at church - not that he was only occasionally there, but that we go to a BIG church, and it's easy to miss seeing friends from week to week, especially if they attend services at a different hour. When we'd see him, we knew he was struggling. Depression was nagging at his heels, and he missed Melanie terribly. He was fighting the urge to fall into old patterns of behavior. He was in a great class, surrounded by believers who loved him, encouraged him, and also remembered sweet Melanie. He found solace there.

One day, Studly Man went to the mailbox in front of our house. We don't get much mail there because the prison system strongly suggests never giving one's home address as prisoners WILL come visit you upon release. We have a post office box for ministry, and we use that for personal bills, etc. for the additional safety and prevention against theft of credit card or banking information. So our home mailbox usually only takes in birthday or Christmas cards from family or very close friends or sales circulars from local businesses.

Imagine Studly's surprise when he found an envelope addressed to Faithful Friends, our street NAME, but no house number, the city and state, but no zip code. There was no return address anywhere on the envelope. A note in Jeff's handwriting was attached to the front. It said:

"Les, if anyone else had come across this letter, it would have ended up in the dead letter file. I am your FAITHFUL FRIEND in Christ, Jeff."

The implication was that there is no "faithful" ANYTHING registered on our residential street. Another mail carrier would not have been able to put the pieces of the Faithful Friend name and our street name together to know its intended destination. But GOD ordained it for JEFF to be the one who sorted mail that morning, and the letter found its home.


What was IN that letter you ask?

A check to the ministry for over $11,000 and a beautiful, affirming letter from a precious couple who desired not only to be obedient to God in their giving, but also to support the work of Faithful Friend Ministry. Studly was blown away. That was the biggest donation we'd ever received with the single exception of a grant from a non-profit foundation, and it came at a time when we'd been asking the Lord whether or not we were to continue in prison ministry. What a confirmation!

When Studly was finally able to catch his breath, he decided to call Jeff to tell him what was inside the letter he had worked so hard to deliver. Studly called Jeff on his cell phone as it was only about 4:00 in the afternoon, and he suspected Jeff might still be on his route. He was right. Studly read the letter to Jeff and told him about the check.


There was silence on the other end of the phone.


Jeff had pulled over to the side of the road to regain his composure.



After a long moment, Jeff said, "I needed that today. I REALLY needed that. I don't know if you realize what the date is, but tomorrow is the first anniversary of my wife's death. It has been a really hard week. I didn't want to go back to my old bad habits [drugs and alcohol] to help deal with the pain. Instead I'd been thinking about killing myself. I needed to hear that God has me right where He wants me and that He can still use this broken, hurting man. Thank you. Thank you for calling to tell me what was in the letter."


Who says God isn't in the details? He is intimately acquainted with all our ways, and He loves us. He loves us more than we could ever imagine, even when He seems so far away. And He knows our needs. He is never late and never too early in delivering exactly what we need.

Jeff's life changed that day. So did the way Studly and I look at the gift and responsibility of ministry.

If THAT were the end of the story, it'd be a good story wouldn't it? It isn't! There's still more... all tied to this letter and how an all-knowing, omnipresent God IS in the details. Come back tomorrow for part three!

God and the US Postal Service

Ever wonder if God still wants to be intimately involved in every detail of His kids' lives? Sit back and relax, and let me tell you a story.

Studly Man and I met while working with a juvenile prison ministry. Later, the Lord blessed us with a ministry of our own, and since that time, we've been on one. amazing. journey.

One of our sweet volunteers was sitting behind a couple in church one particular Sunday morning. Angela recognized something in the wife of the couple that tugged at her heart strings. Melanie was quite obviously suffering the effects of chemotherapy and was likely in the battle of her life. Angela's mother had suffered this way years before, and the memories were painful. After the service concluded, Angela tapped Melanie on the shoulder and introduced herself. In the months that followed, Angela ministered to Melanie and Jeff, her husband, and their two teenaged daughters in ways few would have thought to employ. Jeff's job with the US Postal Service provided good insurance, but it wasn't enough to meet all of their expenses. The tangible help Angela gave them was secondary only to the spiritual encouragement she lavished on them.

Jeff and Melanie were deeply in love, and their marriage had weathered many storms, including Jeff's addiction to drugs and alcohol. Melanie's condition was terminal, and Jeff was struggling to find meaning in what God was allowing to happen in his life. He hung on every word he heard at church and from new friends who loved him with the love of Christ. Melanie's faith was strong, and her witness to her husband was powerful.

After months of fighting, Melanie went home to be with Jesus. Jeff was devastated. Lost, really. Angela continued to encourage him. One day she told him she thought his testimony would be a powerful tool of the Lord to minister to the young men (and women) who were incarcerated. He listened with interest as she shared of her experiences inside the prison walls.

A few month's after Melanie's death, Jeff planned to join our team and go into the local prison with us. Because training is required for every new volunteer, Studly made plans to meet with Jeff at the church to conduct the training. The meeting went well, and Jeff was ready to go.

Even with Melanie's passing so very fresh, he stood before those young men and shared his story, his heart, and his tears. They listened to every word with respect and compassion (an unusual occurrence with incarcerated teens) and clapped with enthusiasm when he finished. One by one, they filed by to shake his hand, share their condolences, and thank him personally for coming - in the midst of his grief - to minister to them. He was moved, and he was encouraged.

At the end of the event, Jeff walked over to where Studly stood with Shiloh. Jeff studied her face carefully and then looked at Studly. He said, "You live on 'ABC' Street, don't you?" Studly was shocked. "Well, yes, I do. How did you know?" he asked. With a huge grin, Jeff said, "Your dog barks at me every day. I'm your postman." Studly called me over, and we all laughed at how God weaves the threads of our lives together for His purpose, even when we're completely unaware.

If that was the end of the story, it'd be a pretty good one. It isn't the end. It's only the beginning. Come back tomorrow for the next installment. You'll laugh out loud or maybe cry with how amazing our God is and how He much He cares about us.

Purple Tragedy

Sometimes I wonder if God sits on His throne and laughs out loud with a big belly laugh at all the gaffes His clueless children commit. We must be a great source of entertainment for Him. Thankfully, He is gracious. And so is my sister.


You may remember that my dear sister got married on Friday. It was a very small, family only affair. She wore purple. I wore purple. Everyone should wear purple. Studies have shown that while men are partial to blues and women are partial to pinks and reds, most all people like purple - the combination of those blues and reds - at least to some degree. The interior designer who decorated our office knew of this fact, and our office is based on a purple palette. She said...


Oops... I did it again. Digressing...


I wore a purple pants suit with palazzo pants and a flowy duster type jacket-y thing. It's purdy. I knew the bride wouldn't mind that her sister was wearing the same color as she, because, well, it was PURPLE. Who doesn't like looking at something in lovely lavender or violet hues, however pale or dramatic?


Digressing again...


Her dress was far lovelier than my outfit, and far smarter, I might add. After 46 years, one would think I'd know better than to try to do ANYTHING in the same league as my sister. This event proved my theory. She was radiant and beautiful in her color of royalty, and I was, well, I was there.

But I was happy


'cuz I was wearing purple.

After the ceremony, we all motored over to a family favorite, Posado's Mexican Restaurant. I was sitting next to one of my nieces at the table, and we were looking at the pictures I had taken at the wedding. Not only were they teeny, tiny on the back of my digital camera, it was also a bit dark in our corner of the restaurant. And by corner, I simply mean that she and I were in a little corner of our large table for 15. The table itself was positioned smack-dab in the middle of the traffic pattern whereby virtually every patron who needed to visit the necessary room must pass. Because details are important: Digressing.... again.....



As I was putting the camera back into the case, I heard something drop to the floor. I looked around, under the table, under Studly Man's chair, but I couldn't see anything but, um, floor. I asked my niece if she had heard anything, and she looked at me as though I was growing a second head. "Perhaps I'm imagining things," I thought to myself.


Polite banter shot back and forth across the table. The sweet young waiter, who, it turns out, knows my sister's entire family from the Christian school where she teaches and where her kids went (one still goes there), approached the table to refill the ginormous glasses of tea we had gulped down with dinner. We had moved them around, and he wasn't able to reach my glass. I reached over to hand him my glass. In stretching out my arm toward him, something unusual caught my eye. I could only hope it hadn't caught his.


I spied....


my beautiful


new


lovely


lacy


freshly


washed

BRA!


That sound I heard? It was one of the five buttons from the front of my purdy purple flowy jacket-y thing. It hit the floor... and so did my chin.

There I sat, with my back to the wall, facing the entire restaurant with a gaping opening in my purpleness and MY.BRA.SHOWING. Fortunately for me, I was sitting across from my momma who has in her lifetime seen a few bras, and from Studly who never minds seeing my bras and from my daddy who thankfully was engaged in conversation with the groom's stepfather and thus oblivious to my state of undress.

Have you ever played that game called "Gossip?" You know, the one where you whisper a sentence to the person next to you and they pass it on? I sent word to my beautifully arrayed sister whose bra was NOT showing that I needed safety pins. For the love of Pete! I'm NEVER without safety pins. Being the altogether girl she is, she said she had a couple in her van out in the parking lot.

Studly was quite the gentleman. He got her keys and went on an expedition after the safety pins while I sat clenching my purpleness. When he reappeared after a long absence, he had a very long face. His eyes met mine from the opposite end of the table. He slowly shook his head to signal no safety pins could be found.


I was doomed.


The next three years 20 minutes seemed to take forever as I waited for the bill to be settled so we could leave. All of the sudden, out of nowhere, two brilliantly beautiful, shiny silver objects appeared on the table before me. My sister, KNOWING she had safety pins in her van, had sent her 16-year-old son out to fetch them. They were right where she'd told Studly they'd be.

I discreetly made my way to the ladies room where I carefully pinned my clothing back together. Breathing a sigh of relief, I returned to the table. My sister's wedding and celebratory dinner were complete, and so was the side show. My purpleness was gaping no more.

I hope the young waiter isn't scarred for life, and I hope Studly makes an appointment to have his eyes checked soon.

Just.so.tired.

Ever feel like this? Or this?
Or maybe this?

Yeah. Me either.