There is an old saying: "You can't really understand another person's experience until you've walked a mile in their shoes." Several times over the past few months I've found myself saying this to someone or even myself.
Due to the choices that I have made in life, I have quite a sordid past and I have experienced a lot. Yes, I have a dirty past (go dig it up if you want) In fact, my past is a daily reminder to me of God's grace and mercy, which by the way is new and fresh every day. (Lam 3:22-23) Through my experiences God has blessed me with the opportunity to encourage others, not focusing on the past but focusing on the rich goodness of God.
One of the most challenging and difficult decisions of my life came sometime in the winter of 1992, the writing had been on the wall for many months, if not years, I just didn't want to do it. After seeking wise and Godly counsel, I realized that I really didn't have a choice. This could be the final game changer, it could go either way, but it had to be done. It was up to me to take the next step and trust God for the outcome.
I made the call and set the appointment. I went to the appointment after struggling through prayer all night. I literally lay on the floor the entire evening and begged God to save my marriage. I slept very little but I awoke with great anticipation that he would call me before my appointment and tell me that we would try to work things out. (Guess you can tell I'm a dreamer)
Reluctantly I got in my car and remeber very little of the drive there because I spent the entire 15 minutes begging and pleading with God to interrupt my meeting and not allow this to happen. He didn't. So I proceeded to meet the lawyer, explain the details of our separation and ask him to draw up the paperwork.
During the course of our meeting there were two questions he asked me which I will never forget.
"Is there any chance that he will contest this divorce? What exactly do you deserve from him?"
The answer to the first question was pretty obvious, "No."
The second question for me didn't take much thought either, "All I want is full custody of my boys and support for them. That's all he needs to give me. I don't care about anything else."
Once our meeting was over, I calmly signed the necessary documents and left the office. The drive home, I will never forget. After carrying such a heavy burden for months on end and having spent the majority of the night as well as the time leading up to the appointment in anguish, God in his mercy and love released me. I remember driving down 5th Ave, when suddenly there was an overwhelming sense of peace. The anguish in my heart subsided and if felt as if 100 pounds were lifted off my shoulders.
Now, don't get me wrong on this point. God's word tells us that, "God hates divorce" Mal 2:10, however, due to the hardness of man's heart,(Matt 19:7-8) God permits divorce.
The reason for my story here is two-fold, first to understand that we do not know what burdens or anguish another soul carries unless we are in their situation. Nor can we make assumptions that we know "what we would do" if we were in a their situation.
My second purpose is to encourage those who are going through separation/divorce to let you know that God can use you as much as you will allow. You can do anything He has called you to do(Phil 4:13) and just because you are divorced it doesn't mean he loves you less. Truth is, if you belong to Christ, then we are "God's workmanship". (Eph 2:10)
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Tattered and Torn
When Ryan, now 21, was a baby he had a security blanket. At 8 months of age with limited vocabulary skills, he began calling it “draggy”, which was appropriate because he quite literally drug the blanket every where. His attachment to the blanket wasn’t the blanket material, but the edges of the blanket itself; hence the dragging of the blanket. It was almost impossible to pry it from his grip. The only time “draggy” got a bath was when Ryan was sound asleep and we could sneak it from his bed.
From time to time, Ryan would misplace draggy and we would spend hours hunting for him. As soon as we would find draggy, Ryan would hug it tight and squeal with delight, “I love you draggy.”
As time went on, draggy continued with us everywhere, but because he was so well used, he also began to deteriorate, little by little. Thankfully we were able to have draggy repaired. Eventually time would tatter and tear draggy beyond repair. He didn’t care how draggy looked, he only cared that draggy made him feel safe and secure. It didn’t matter how tattered or torn his blanket was, it was his and it belonged to him.
Isn’t that what God desires of us? Oh, how he longs for us to find safety and security in His arms. He loves us so much that it doesn’t matter if we come to him tattered and torn to pieces by our choices, mistakes and failures, all He wants to do is throw His strong gentle arms around us and squeal with delight, “I love you”
Psalm 139: 13- 18 “ For you created my inmost being you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, Oh God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them they would outnumber the grains of sand - when I awake, I am still with you.”
From time to time, Ryan would misplace draggy and we would spend hours hunting for him. As soon as we would find draggy, Ryan would hug it tight and squeal with delight, “I love you draggy.”
As time went on, draggy continued with us everywhere, but because he was so well used, he also began to deteriorate, little by little. Thankfully we were able to have draggy repaired. Eventually time would tatter and tear draggy beyond repair. He didn’t care how draggy looked, he only cared that draggy made him feel safe and secure. It didn’t matter how tattered or torn his blanket was, it was his and it belonged to him.
Isn’t that what God desires of us? Oh, how he longs for us to find safety and security in His arms. He loves us so much that it doesn’t matter if we come to him tattered and torn to pieces by our choices, mistakes and failures, all He wants to do is throw His strong gentle arms around us and squeal with delight, “I love you”
Psalm 139: 13- 18 “ For you created my inmost being you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, Oh God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them they would outnumber the grains of sand - when I awake, I am still with you.”
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The day that changed my life forever
Thirty-five years ago today my world changed forever. I still remember, it was a crisp spring morning when we drove to school. I was in 1st grade at Penrose Elementary school in Pisgah Forest. My teacher was a sweet, plump red-head named Mrs. Allison. This particular day we were doing our CAT testings (California Achievement Test) and upon the completion of the morning test, we always were allowed to take a long break and go outside.
I was finished with my testing earlier than the allotted time, so I put my head down on the desk and waited quietly until the testing period was over. While waiting, I closed my eyes and began thinking about my family. In my mind I could picture our family, my mom, my sister and brother and me, but for the life of me, I could not picture my dad. His face I could not see, even trying to picture him in his hospital bed, proved futile. He was not there. It was as if his portrait had been totally erased from my mind.
Finally, the testing period was over and the fun was about to begin. We were going outside to play for the next hour. I quickly arose from my seat to get in line when Mrs. Allison looked at me and said, “Kelly, I need you to stay inside with me.” Utterly disappointed, but obediently I sat back down at my desk. When the last child left, Mrs. Allison shut the door behind and said, “Someone will be picking you up in a little while and we need you to go ahead and take the remainder of the CAT test.” The disappointment turned to dismay and I knew something was up without being told.
I finished the second portion of the tests and waited patiently with vivid wild thoughts churning through my mind. “When are they going to tell me? Do they think I’m stupid? I know what’s happening.” Those thoughts were consuming me when Mrs. Allison said, “Your family is here to pick you up, get all your things and I will walk you to the car.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, but maintaining composure (that’s what I do best) I packed my things and walked with Mrs. Allison at my side down the long hallway and outside into parking lot. My Uncle and Aunt were waiting for me and told me to climb into the back seat. As quickly as they got into the car, I spouted, “Why did you pick me up? What’s going on?”
“Honey, we will let your mom tell you when we get you home.” My uncle said. “Really? You can’t be serious, can you? Come on, just tell me what I already know.” were the frustrating thoughts crowding my mind. Silence, dead silence the whole ride from school to my house. Good thing the ride only took 8 minutes, I couldn’t tolerate much more of this pin drop silence, it was freakish.
Finally home, I raced into the house to find my mom. There were people all over the house, probably every square inch was covered, but I needed to find my mom. She was upstairs in the bedroom sitting on the floor, playing with my brother, who was 9 months old at the time. She looked up and with tears streaming down her face said, “Honey, your daddy went to be with Jesus today.”
“ I knew it but no one would tell me,” I responded.
“ That’s because I wanted to tell you myself.” she replied
The pent up anger and frustration rested heavily on my heart for the next few hours, I couldn’t cry. I didn’t cry. I flat refused to cry. The more I contained my emotions, the more angry I became. Oh I had a few breakdowns along the way, but I managed to quickly subdue them. I was angry, angry at my dad for dying, angry at the vicious cancer that consumed his whole being, even the point of paralysis for 7 weeks prior to his death, but most angry at God (Finally I said it) for taking my dad away from me. (It took years for this anger to subside) I was suppose to be the strong one because I was the oldest and understood the most. I was suppose to take on the role my dad left behind and help my mom take care of my sister and brother. I simply didn’t have time to deal with, nor let anyone see, how emotionally wounded I felt.
Looking back 35 years ago at the little 7 year old girl, I realize that she has been molded and shaped by the events that happened on April 5, 1976. She will never be the same little girl she was before that time, but she will always be the little girl who loves and misses her daddy.
I was finished with my testing earlier than the allotted time, so I put my head down on the desk and waited quietly until the testing period was over. While waiting, I closed my eyes and began thinking about my family. In my mind I could picture our family, my mom, my sister and brother and me, but for the life of me, I could not picture my dad. His face I could not see, even trying to picture him in his hospital bed, proved futile. He was not there. It was as if his portrait had been totally erased from my mind.
Finally, the testing period was over and the fun was about to begin. We were going outside to play for the next hour. I quickly arose from my seat to get in line when Mrs. Allison looked at me and said, “Kelly, I need you to stay inside with me.” Utterly disappointed, but obediently I sat back down at my desk. When the last child left, Mrs. Allison shut the door behind and said, “Someone will be picking you up in a little while and we need you to go ahead and take the remainder of the CAT test.” The disappointment turned to dismay and I knew something was up without being told.
I finished the second portion of the tests and waited patiently with vivid wild thoughts churning through my mind. “When are they going to tell me? Do they think I’m stupid? I know what’s happening.” Those thoughts were consuming me when Mrs. Allison said, “Your family is here to pick you up, get all your things and I will walk you to the car.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, but maintaining composure (that’s what I do best) I packed my things and walked with Mrs. Allison at my side down the long hallway and outside into parking lot. My Uncle and Aunt were waiting for me and told me to climb into the back seat. As quickly as they got into the car, I spouted, “Why did you pick me up? What’s going on?”
“Honey, we will let your mom tell you when we get you home.” My uncle said. “Really? You can’t be serious, can you? Come on, just tell me what I already know.” were the frustrating thoughts crowding my mind. Silence, dead silence the whole ride from school to my house. Good thing the ride only took 8 minutes, I couldn’t tolerate much more of this pin drop silence, it was freakish.
Finally home, I raced into the house to find my mom. There were people all over the house, probably every square inch was covered, but I needed to find my mom. She was upstairs in the bedroom sitting on the floor, playing with my brother, who was 9 months old at the time. She looked up and with tears streaming down her face said, “Honey, your daddy went to be with Jesus today.”
“ I knew it but no one would tell me,” I responded.
“ That’s because I wanted to tell you myself.” she replied
The pent up anger and frustration rested heavily on my heart for the next few hours, I couldn’t cry. I didn’t cry. I flat refused to cry. The more I contained my emotions, the more angry I became. Oh I had a few breakdowns along the way, but I managed to quickly subdue them. I was angry, angry at my dad for dying, angry at the vicious cancer that consumed his whole being, even the point of paralysis for 7 weeks prior to his death, but most angry at God (Finally I said it) for taking my dad away from me. (It took years for this anger to subside) I was suppose to be the strong one because I was the oldest and understood the most. I was suppose to take on the role my dad left behind and help my mom take care of my sister and brother. I simply didn’t have time to deal with, nor let anyone see, how emotionally wounded I felt.
Looking back 35 years ago at the little 7 year old girl, I realize that she has been molded and shaped by the events that happened on April 5, 1976. She will never be the same little girl she was before that time, but she will always be the little girl who loves and misses her daddy.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Anniversary Week- Meeting Thelma
As we turned the vehicle around and starting driving toward Thelma's house. Suddenly, I got nervous, my hands were shaking and clamy and a host of questions started flooding my mind. "What will she think of me? Will she like me? What will she think about the fact I have children?"
Terry looked over, sensing my nervousness and said, "Oh, don't pay too much attention to anything my mom says. She just spouts out without thinking sometimes and doesn't mean anything by what she says. We won't stay long, ok?"
We pulled up to 737 Buncombe Street and climbed out of the truck. Still shaking on the inside, I followed Terry to the door and stayed behind him until we were in the door.
There she was, sitting in the chair in the living room. The thick dark hair framed her wrinking face, her deeply recessed brazen brown revealed a strong willed independent woman; yet, despite the weathering of years, she remained an extremely attrative woman. "Hey Terry, who's that with you?" she inquiried.
"Thelma (as he commonly called her) this is Kelly." he replied
"Oh, that's the girl that kept calling. The one you and Marie keep talking about."
After shaking hands with her, she invited me to sit down and talk. We talked the normal small talk first to break the ice. The conversation turned to her family, mainly she spoke of her deceased husband George (Terry's dad). She talked about his passive gentle nature, his wittiness and her deep love for him. At this point, he had been dead almost 3 years. He died in the summer of '91 with congestive heart failure. It was obvious that she missed him terribly. Fortunately for her, Terry being single, moved in shortly before George's death and he provided companionship for her.
Then the converstion turned to me and the boys. She was genuinely interested in as many details about them as I could provide. However, I could sense an uneasiness developing with Terry as the conversation deepened, possibly fear of what would expel from her lips.
Finally he looked his nervousness got the best of him and he looked at me and said, "Ok. It's time to go. I need to get you home."
As I turned to shake her hand, she looked at me and said, "I can tell you really like my boy and he really likes you." Suprised by her comment, I had no response but quietly in my mind I wondered, "How could she tell?" (What I would later learn was that my mother in law was a very perceptive individual and had a great sense of character judgement.)
To Terry's relief, she had not been as abrasive as he had forewarned. In fact once we were in the car, headed back to my house, Terry said, "She likes you. I can tell."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"If she didn't like you, she would not have talked to you as much as she did. Believe me, you would know if my mom didn't like you. She doesn't hide her feelings well."
She did like me and she readily accepted me and the boys as her own. There's much to tell about the woman I was privileged to call my mother in law, but that's a book itself. Suffice to say, on Decebmer 27, 2001 Thelma's body succumbed to emphysema and I am very thankful and blessed that she was a part of my life for almost 8 years.
Terry looked over, sensing my nervousness and said, "Oh, don't pay too much attention to anything my mom says. She just spouts out without thinking sometimes and doesn't mean anything by what she says. We won't stay long, ok?"
We pulled up to 737 Buncombe Street and climbed out of the truck. Still shaking on the inside, I followed Terry to the door and stayed behind him until we were in the door.
There she was, sitting in the chair in the living room. The thick dark hair framed her wrinking face, her deeply recessed brazen brown revealed a strong willed independent woman; yet, despite the weathering of years, she remained an extremely attrative woman. "Hey Terry, who's that with you?" she inquiried.
"Thelma (as he commonly called her) this is Kelly." he replied
"Oh, that's the girl that kept calling. The one you and Marie keep talking about."
After shaking hands with her, she invited me to sit down and talk. We talked the normal small talk first to break the ice. The conversation turned to her family, mainly she spoke of her deceased husband George (Terry's dad). She talked about his passive gentle nature, his wittiness and her deep love for him. At this point, he had been dead almost 3 years. He died in the summer of '91 with congestive heart failure. It was obvious that she missed him terribly. Fortunately for her, Terry being single, moved in shortly before George's death and he provided companionship for her.
Then the converstion turned to me and the boys. She was genuinely interested in as many details about them as I could provide. However, I could sense an uneasiness developing with Terry as the conversation deepened, possibly fear of what would expel from her lips.
Finally he looked his nervousness got the best of him and he looked at me and said, "Ok. It's time to go. I need to get you home."
As I turned to shake her hand, she looked at me and said, "I can tell you really like my boy and he really likes you." Suprised by her comment, I had no response but quietly in my mind I wondered, "How could she tell?" (What I would later learn was that my mother in law was a very perceptive individual and had a great sense of character judgement.)
To Terry's relief, she had not been as abrasive as he had forewarned. In fact once we were in the car, headed back to my house, Terry said, "She likes you. I can tell."
"How do you know?" I asked.
"If she didn't like you, she would not have talked to you as much as she did. Believe me, you would know if my mom didn't like you. She doesn't hide her feelings well."
She did like me and she readily accepted me and the boys as her own. There's much to tell about the woman I was privileged to call my mother in law, but that's a book itself. Suffice to say, on Decebmer 27, 2001 Thelma's body succumbed to emphysema and I am very thankful and blessed that she was a part of my life for almost 8 years.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Anniversary Week - The Great Debate
For 16 years now, Terry and I have debated this portion of our story. This debate has led to mulitple conversations between friends and family. Obviously anyone who hears his version is apt to side with him. I guess it really doesn't matter so much now, it's just fun for us to banter with one another in an effort to keep the debate going.
Here's the real story.
So, as we headed for the door Valentine's evening to say goodnight, I had to walk into the garage to lock the door. As we ventured into the garage, we continued to converse. Finally, I told him he had to leave because I knew those precious little boys would be up with the rooster, and I needed sleep to keep up with them. He turned to leave and gave me a gentle hug. I think my heart skipped 5 beats. It was just a hug, I told myself....no big deal.
This is where our stories vary, after we hugged for a minute or so, he just stood there glaring at me. Then pulled me to himself again and kissed me. The kiss like his hug, was gentle and full of passion. At that moment, in that one kiss, I knew this was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. How did I know? I just knew, simple as that.
Obviously, he says exactly the opposite and he tells everyone, "You just wouldn't believe. She couldn't keep her hands off of me. She kissed me first."
We do agree that night was a new beginning for us both.
Even though deep in my heart, I knew Terry was the one for me. I still wasn't ready to completely trust and give my heart away. I carried way too much baggage from the past, my heart was derelict condition. It would take much more than a passionate kiss to convince me to trust completely again. Perhaps in time, just not immediately.
We continued our late night meetings and dating on the weekends. Sometimes the boys went and sometimes they didn't. I was fortunate enough to have grandparents and parents who were willing to keep the boys and from time to time, hire a babysitter.
In April, my sister got married. Terry was a lifesaver during that time. Not only did he take me to this swanky kids clothing store to buy the boys outfits(which would later be worn by Alex for a friends' wedding) for the wedding. oO the wedding day, the guestbook was inadvertantly left at home and when it was discovered it was far too late to run back home and pick it up. So, Terry went downtown and bought one.
Trusting him was becoming easier and easier, but something still bothered me. Until now, he had met all of my family including the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. I only knew Tom and Marie (Terry's sister) and their two boys. I had not met his mom Thelma.
After a date one night, inquistively I asked, "So, when do I get to meet your Mom?"
"I don't know" was his response.
"Are you embarrassed to for me to meet her? My gosh, we've been dating almost 3 months and you have never once taken me to meet her." I fired back.
"No, it's not you. I'm just not sure how you will take my mom. She's different. She's very forthright and brash at times. But if you insist, I'll take you to meet her."
He turned the truck around and away we went to meet Thelma. (of course I must end here because this is a chapter all it's own)
Here's the real story.
So, as we headed for the door Valentine's evening to say goodnight, I had to walk into the garage to lock the door. As we ventured into the garage, we continued to converse. Finally, I told him he had to leave because I knew those precious little boys would be up with the rooster, and I needed sleep to keep up with them. He turned to leave and gave me a gentle hug. I think my heart skipped 5 beats. It was just a hug, I told myself....no big deal.
This is where our stories vary, after we hugged for a minute or so, he just stood there glaring at me. Then pulled me to himself again and kissed me. The kiss like his hug, was gentle and full of passion. At that moment, in that one kiss, I knew this was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. How did I know? I just knew, simple as that.
Obviously, he says exactly the opposite and he tells everyone, "You just wouldn't believe. She couldn't keep her hands off of me. She kissed me first."
We do agree that night was a new beginning for us both.
Even though deep in my heart, I knew Terry was the one for me. I still wasn't ready to completely trust and give my heart away. I carried way too much baggage from the past, my heart was derelict condition. It would take much more than a passionate kiss to convince me to trust completely again. Perhaps in time, just not immediately.
We continued our late night meetings and dating on the weekends. Sometimes the boys went and sometimes they didn't. I was fortunate enough to have grandparents and parents who were willing to keep the boys and from time to time, hire a babysitter.
In April, my sister got married. Terry was a lifesaver during that time. Not only did he take me to this swanky kids clothing store to buy the boys outfits(which would later be worn by Alex for a friends' wedding) for the wedding. oO the wedding day, the guestbook was inadvertantly left at home and when it was discovered it was far too late to run back home and pick it up. So, Terry went downtown and bought one.
Trusting him was becoming easier and easier, but something still bothered me. Until now, he had met all of my family including the grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. I only knew Tom and Marie (Terry's sister) and their two boys. I had not met his mom Thelma.
After a date one night, inquistively I asked, "So, when do I get to meet your Mom?"
"I don't know" was his response.
"Are you embarrassed to for me to meet her? My gosh, we've been dating almost 3 months and you have never once taken me to meet her." I fired back.
"No, it's not you. I'm just not sure how you will take my mom. She's different. She's very forthright and brash at times. But if you insist, I'll take you to meet her."
He turned the truck around and away we went to meet Thelma. (of course I must end here because this is a chapter all it's own)
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Anniversary Week - Hope and expectation
One call led to another and plans were made for the following weekend for Terry to come over to my parents' house and have dinner. However, this was not a date, a singles gathering had already been planned and he agreed to show up.
The night was full of fun and laughter. He lingered after the other guests left. During the course of that conversation, I learned he knew more about me than he initially disclosed. In fact, he had seen me before I ever met him personally.
He told me that during Christmas with his family, they were watching the newly taped version of the Messiah we had done that year. While watching the TV screen, he saw me, pointed me out to his sister and asked, "Who's that girl?" So, Marie proceeded to tell him that I was a divorcee and had two little boys.
There were two things that amazed me from learning this from Terry. The first was that he actually picked me out of the crowd and pointed to me on the tv screen. (Keep in mind we were dressed in full period costume, even our heads were covered.) All he could really see was my face. The second thing that struck me was that after learning I was divorced and had two children, he still had an interest in meeting me.
When he left that evening, I found myself beginning to wonder if he would call again. There had been no hint of affection during the evening, but there was no indication that he had been turned off either. The next couple of days, I found myself rushing to answer the phone every time it rung, especially late in the evening. I was elated when I heard his voice on the other; however I didn't allow my excitement to exude into our conversation. I maintained complete composure, almost to the point I had myself convinced it was no big deal....but it was.
The following Sunday night we decided that he would come over and I would cook for him. You know, they say the best way to a man's heart it through his tummy. This would be his first encounter with my dad and also the first time since our outing to the park that he would have some time with the boys. As the events of the evening unfolded, it still amazes me that he came back.
Our normal Sunday evening routine was going to church and coming home afterward for a light snack supper, usually consisting of popcorn, chips, crackers, etc. After the initial painless introduction to my dad, it seemed the evening go off withouth a hitch. Until my dad realized that I was cooking and were off the norm, suddenly he began ranting and raving about how we didn't cook on Sunday night and he wasn't the least bit happy that I was cooking. Not only was I embarassed, but felt certain that after that evening Terry would never show up on my doorstep again. Fortunately, the remainder of the evening turned out well.
The next day was Valentine's Day and I had no expectation of talking to much less seeing Terry after Sunday evening; however, around 6 pm he called to ask if he could come by after work. Now after work for him was 11:30 because he was working second shift at the time. After the evening before, I wasn't about to say no. So around 11:30 he showed up with a smile on his face and hands behind his back like a child trying to hide candy from his mother. As subtly as he could, he took the package from behind his back to reveal heart shaped sugar cookies that he had picked up from Ingles.
"Happy Valentine's Day. I didn't a chance to get anything for you, so I thought I would at least bring you some cookies." He said rather awkwardly, as if embarrassed by his gift.
"Thank you but I really didn't expect anything you really didn't have to bring anything." I replied. Silence fell and it was almost a deafening silence. Suddenly I realized how foolish my statemnt had been to him. Why couldn't I have just said a simple thank you? So, I tried to explain away the reason for my reply. Fortunately my explanation seemed to appease him.
We would spend the next few hours talking about our past relationships, hurts and hang-ups. Finally, I was growing weary and knew that early morning was coming quickly. So, we said our goodbyes and he headed out the door. I followed behind to lock the door.
The night was full of fun and laughter. He lingered after the other guests left. During the course of that conversation, I learned he knew more about me than he initially disclosed. In fact, he had seen me before I ever met him personally.
He told me that during Christmas with his family, they were watching the newly taped version of the Messiah we had done that year. While watching the TV screen, he saw me, pointed me out to his sister and asked, "Who's that girl?" So, Marie proceeded to tell him that I was a divorcee and had two little boys.
There were two things that amazed me from learning this from Terry. The first was that he actually picked me out of the crowd and pointed to me on the tv screen. (Keep in mind we were dressed in full period costume, even our heads were covered.) All he could really see was my face. The second thing that struck me was that after learning I was divorced and had two children, he still had an interest in meeting me.
When he left that evening, I found myself beginning to wonder if he would call again. There had been no hint of affection during the evening, but there was no indication that he had been turned off either. The next couple of days, I found myself rushing to answer the phone every time it rung, especially late in the evening. I was elated when I heard his voice on the other; however I didn't allow my excitement to exude into our conversation. I maintained complete composure, almost to the point I had myself convinced it was no big deal....but it was.
The following Sunday night we decided that he would come over and I would cook for him. You know, they say the best way to a man's heart it through his tummy. This would be his first encounter with my dad and also the first time since our outing to the park that he would have some time with the boys. As the events of the evening unfolded, it still amazes me that he came back.
Our normal Sunday evening routine was going to church and coming home afterward for a light snack supper, usually consisting of popcorn, chips, crackers, etc. After the initial painless introduction to my dad, it seemed the evening go off withouth a hitch. Until my dad realized that I was cooking and were off the norm, suddenly he began ranting and raving about how we didn't cook on Sunday night and he wasn't the least bit happy that I was cooking. Not only was I embarassed, but felt certain that after that evening Terry would never show up on my doorstep again. Fortunately, the remainder of the evening turned out well.
The next day was Valentine's Day and I had no expectation of talking to much less seeing Terry after Sunday evening; however, around 6 pm he called to ask if he could come by after work. Now after work for him was 11:30 because he was working second shift at the time. After the evening before, I wasn't about to say no. So around 11:30 he showed up with a smile on his face and hands behind his back like a child trying to hide candy from his mother. As subtly as he could, he took the package from behind his back to reveal heart shaped sugar cookies that he had picked up from Ingles.
"Happy Valentine's Day. I didn't a chance to get anything for you, so I thought I would at least bring you some cookies." He said rather awkwardly, as if embarrassed by his gift.
"Thank you but I really didn't expect anything you really didn't have to bring anything." I replied. Silence fell and it was almost a deafening silence. Suddenly I realized how foolish my statemnt had been to him. Why couldn't I have just said a simple thank you? So, I tried to explain away the reason for my reply. Fortunately my explanation seemed to appease him.
We would spend the next few hours talking about our past relationships, hurts and hang-ups. Finally, I was growing weary and knew that early morning was coming quickly. So, we said our goodbyes and he headed out the door. I followed behind to lock the door.
Anniversary Week - The Meeting
It all started around September 1993, while visiting my sweet friend Karen Scoggins and sharing coffee with her and another friend of ours Marie, we were also sharing prayer requests. Marie asked us to pray specifically for her brother and his fiancee. She was concerned about their pending marriage because they came from different religious backgrounds. So, when I returned home later in the day, I wrote in my prayer journal the names Terry and Patty - their pending marriage and concern over religious differences. I had no clue who I was praying for, only that my friend asked me to pray.
Fast forward to January 1994...In order to make a little side money I began office cleaning. The office I was cleaning just happened to belong to Tom, Marie's husband. One night while cleaning, Tom and Marie popped in to pick up something. Out of the clear blue, Tom said, "According to your mom, you aren't dating anyone. Is that correct?"
The response came quickly, "I really have no desire. I've only been divorced since July."
"Well, you should go out with Marie's brother. He just broke his engagement to his fiancee." He replied.
"Tom, there's no hurry. Give her some time." Marie interjected.
"Well, you are involved in the Singles Ministry at church, aren't you?" He asked
I responded."Yes, I am one of the encouragers. I make phone calls and write letters to singles."
"Well then Maries brother, Terry needs some encouragement to come back to church. He's had a hard time wanting to come back. I think he gets tired of us telling him. Maybe you could contact him and invite him to come." He said.
Without hesitation I said, "Sure, I'll be happy to contact him." So Marie gave me his phone number.
A couple of days later, I tried to call Terry but he wasn't home. For the next two weeks, I would unsuccessfully try to call. No, I didn't call every day or every other day, maybe once every 4 days. I ran into Marie at church and she said, "Have you talked to him yet?" "No, he's never home." I said "Please keep trying. Don't give up." She pleaded.
The last Saturday in January, I decidied to give it one more try. I prayed before I called, "Lord, if you want me to encourage this guy to come to church, please let him be home. As I dialed the last number, my palms became clamy, my heart started racing as the voice on the other end said, "Hello!"
"May I speak to Terry?"
"Hold on a minute." Thelma said and she held the phone down and began to yell, "Terry (came out more like "Tarry"), you got a phone call. It's that girl again (and that would be my name for a long time with her, "That girl")
Finally after almost 3 weeks of calling, I talked to him for the very first time. Initially it was a little awkward, but for those of you who know both of us, we like to talk. So it didn't take long for the conversation to liven and we talked for an hour and half. By the end of the converstaion, I had invited him to church on Sunday and he told me precisely where he would be sitting.
On Sunday morning, I walked into the sanctuary and there he was, sitting exactly where he said he would be with his nephews, Brad and Zach, with a smile on his fact that stretched ear to ear. After our initial introductions, he asked me where my boys were. He wanted to see them. I explained they were in their classes and he could see them another time. Then he asked the question, "Do you want to sit with us?"
Without hesitation or second thought, "No thank you. I'm sitting with friends."
Astonished he said, "Oh, ok. Guess I'll talk to you later. Nice meeting you."
I didn't give much thought to what I had just done or undone, but as sure as I am writing this, my sweet little Mama let me know very quickly that I had been rude.
"What do mean inviting someone to church and not sitting with them? What were you thinking? I can't believe you did that to him. He'll probably never talk to you again." She clamored.
"Ok Mama, I get the picture. But you don't understand, I needed to sit with my friends because one of them was joining the church today and she asked me to walk forward with her for moral support. That's why I sat with her." I said trying to ease her rage with me.
"Well, then you need to call him and apologize and explain that to him. If I were him, I would be very upset."
After being raked over the coals for 30 minutes, I relented and went to call. Before I did I prayed, "Lord just give me the words to say." I decided not to call right away after I prayed, instead I waiting until the next day. (Maybe inwardly I thought he needed some time to think about it too)
When I called the next day, he answered the phone. It's almost as if he knew I would call. After a couple of minutes of small talk, I got straight to the point. I apologized and explained about the events from the previous day. He accepted my apology and asked, "So, what are you doing right now?"
"Oh, I'm taking the boys to Mickey D's to meet my friend Karen. You are welcome to come." I quickly responded, not thinking he would take me up on it, but he did.
He came to Mickey D's and hung out with us and met the boys. Then he asked if we could take them to the park so he could play with them for a little while before he had to be at work. So we did and he played with them for an hour or so before going to work. Later that evening, he called me..... (more to come)
Fast forward to January 1994...In order to make a little side money I began office cleaning. The office I was cleaning just happened to belong to Tom, Marie's husband. One night while cleaning, Tom and Marie popped in to pick up something. Out of the clear blue, Tom said, "According to your mom, you aren't dating anyone. Is that correct?"
The response came quickly, "I really have no desire. I've only been divorced since July."
"Well, you should go out with Marie's brother. He just broke his engagement to his fiancee." He replied.
"Tom, there's no hurry. Give her some time." Marie interjected.
"Well, you are involved in the Singles Ministry at church, aren't you?" He asked
I responded."Yes, I am one of the encouragers. I make phone calls and write letters to singles."
"Well then Maries brother, Terry needs some encouragement to come back to church. He's had a hard time wanting to come back. I think he gets tired of us telling him. Maybe you could contact him and invite him to come." He said.
Without hesitation I said, "Sure, I'll be happy to contact him." So Marie gave me his phone number.
A couple of days later, I tried to call Terry but he wasn't home. For the next two weeks, I would unsuccessfully try to call. No, I didn't call every day or every other day, maybe once every 4 days. I ran into Marie at church and she said, "Have you talked to him yet?" "No, he's never home." I said "Please keep trying. Don't give up." She pleaded.
The last Saturday in January, I decidied to give it one more try. I prayed before I called, "Lord, if you want me to encourage this guy to come to church, please let him be home. As I dialed the last number, my palms became clamy, my heart started racing as the voice on the other end said, "Hello!"
"May I speak to Terry?"
"Hold on a minute." Thelma said and she held the phone down and began to yell, "Terry (came out more like "Tarry"), you got a phone call. It's that girl again (and that would be my name for a long time with her, "That girl")
Finally after almost 3 weeks of calling, I talked to him for the very first time. Initially it was a little awkward, but for those of you who know both of us, we like to talk. So it didn't take long for the conversation to liven and we talked for an hour and half. By the end of the converstaion, I had invited him to church on Sunday and he told me precisely where he would be sitting.
On Sunday morning, I walked into the sanctuary and there he was, sitting exactly where he said he would be with his nephews, Brad and Zach, with a smile on his fact that stretched ear to ear. After our initial introductions, he asked me where my boys were. He wanted to see them. I explained they were in their classes and he could see them another time. Then he asked the question, "Do you want to sit with us?"
Without hesitation or second thought, "No thank you. I'm sitting with friends."
Astonished he said, "Oh, ok. Guess I'll talk to you later. Nice meeting you."
I didn't give much thought to what I had just done or undone, but as sure as I am writing this, my sweet little Mama let me know very quickly that I had been rude.
"What do mean inviting someone to church and not sitting with them? What were you thinking? I can't believe you did that to him. He'll probably never talk to you again." She clamored.
"Ok Mama, I get the picture. But you don't understand, I needed to sit with my friends because one of them was joining the church today and she asked me to walk forward with her for moral support. That's why I sat with her." I said trying to ease her rage with me.
"Well, then you need to call him and apologize and explain that to him. If I were him, I would be very upset."
After being raked over the coals for 30 minutes, I relented and went to call. Before I did I prayed, "Lord just give me the words to say." I decided not to call right away after I prayed, instead I waiting until the next day. (Maybe inwardly I thought he needed some time to think about it too)
When I called the next day, he answered the phone. It's almost as if he knew I would call. After a couple of minutes of small talk, I got straight to the point. I apologized and explained about the events from the previous day. He accepted my apology and asked, "So, what are you doing right now?"
"Oh, I'm taking the boys to Mickey D's to meet my friend Karen. You are welcome to come." I quickly responded, not thinking he would take me up on it, but he did.
He came to Mickey D's and hung out with us and met the boys. Then he asked if we could take them to the park so he could play with them for a little while before he had to be at work. So we did and he played with them for an hour or so before going to work. Later that evening, he called me..... (more to come)
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