What could be more lovely than inner beauty of a life well lived, developed through years of experience? Think of all the funny stories, the heartaches, the worries, and the triumphs that reside in the hearts of older folks. I once had an older friend who used to say, “We’re all the same age on the inside.” It’s true. As I get older, I realize I still feel the same as when I was a teenager. Sure, I’m not physically able to do all the things I could then. But I can do some things now that I couldn’t as a younger person, like listen with more empathy because I’ve already walked in those shoes. I can hold things more loosely because I know there’s infinitely more value in things that can’t be held.
Soul Beauty
Posted in Aging, Doing Life Together, Legacy, Life
Tagged aging, Doing Life Together, inner beauty, Linda Carlblom, soul beauty, timeline
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Love Letter Begs for Date
Love Letter Begs for Date
by
Betty Mason Arthurs
Long before the internet and online dating sites, young ladies communicated with potential “matches” by letter, hand-written or typed on ancient typewriters. Like most senior folk, I miss those days when you could unfold a piece of stationary and reread a love note, not an e-mail, from your sweetheart. When I was dating my husband John, he left me sweet notes in my college mail box. I also loved getting letters from my mother when I lived miles away from her. So it was no surprise that I found some letters she had saved in a box from the 1950s and 1960s. One mysterious letter, written to my 19-year-old brother Mark, when he was in junior college, made me wonder, “Why did Mom keep this? Who typed the letter, its keys skipping and smudges of ink on every line?” I’ll share the letter.
November 17, 1960
Dear Mark,
I have often thought of you but I have never been able to bring myself to the point of actually writing to you. I hope you don’t think that I am too forward. Actually I am very shy, and somewhat cute, if I do say so myself. My problem is this: I don’t have a date to the banquet yet and I was wondering if you could possibly (now if you won’t don’t hesitate to say no, for it wouldn’t hurt my feelings too much. I mean, I would get over it in a couple of weeks, I think.) find it in your heart to try to help me out of my predicament which is very embarrassing to me. You see, I was once homecoming queen of my high school and since then I have never wanted for dates, that is, until now. Now I come to (Christian college), which they all told me was just about as close to heaven as one could possibly get and I haven’t had a single date as of yet. This is really hard to take. I have noticed that you haven’t had too many dates this year so I thought you might be in a similar predicament. So I am writing this letter to tell you I would be happy to date you even if no one else is. If you want to contact me, please write to Box 26, as I have a private box at the post office. I am a town student but am only 20 y/o. Of course I am too shy and modest to sign my name, but as soon as I receive your letter I will gladly let you know who I am. Until then, love, ????????
Can you imagine a young lady pouring her heart out like this on a dating site today? I cringe when I think of the ridicule and bullying a desperate girl would receive if she admitted she needed a date. I think my tender-hearted mother kept the letter because she had once longed for dates. I know I did in high school in the 1960s. I can’t ask her because she died in 1985. I would like to tease my brother and ask him, “Did you take her to the banquet?” but he is gone too. Mark, who always had girls chasing him, often wrote to our folks, “I’ve got a banquet coming up. Can you send $20?” The joke in our household was, “When we hear from the boys it’s because they need money.” Even today, girls don’t understand that not all guys have a nice suit or tux to wear or a car to drive, plus money for prom, a corsage and dinner at a nice restaurant.
This letter speaks to me about teen girls and self esteem. Not much has changed even with the advent of internet communication. Maybe you’ve heard the story of a young lady who had a pair of men’s jeans on the end of her bed. Every night she knelt and prayed, “God please fill those jeans with a man for me.” I don’t know if God ever answered her, but I chuckle at her ingenuity.
My heart goes out to the writer, since she thinks having lots of dates will bring her happiness. I want to hug her, like I did with my daughter, and say, “Sweetheart, tell God your desires and your dreams. No one will ever love you as much as He does. Only He can be trusted to give you the love you long for.” Scripture is full of promises and one of my favorites is found in Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV), “’‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”
Do you know a lonely young lady who longs for dates or wants to be married? What advice would you give her?
Posted in Doing Life Together, Dreams, Hope, Love, Nostalgia, Prayer, Romance, Trust in God's promises, Uncategorized
Tagged 1960s, college life, Dating, longing for love
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Fear of Driving
I didn’t get my driver’s license until I was 19.
I got my first learner’s permit when I was a senior in high school. My dad took me out driving several times in his huge Buick LeSabre. Our sessions usually ended with him red-faced and shouting at me, and me crying. At the time, I didn’t understand why Dad was so frustrated.
The day of my scheduled road test was also the day of the first blizzard of 1970. I had no experience driving in snow. Even though Dad promised the test course would be plowed by the time we got there, this was not the way I’d imagined it. I pictured myself driving us to the Motor Vehicles office on non-scary, dry roads. I didn’t want a last-minute lesson on driving on snow-covered roads. So I refused to go. Dad said I could call and reschedule, but I just didn’t want to practice and be shouted at and burst into tears any more. Besides, in the fall I would be going away to college, and there was no place for dorm residents to park on campus. Plus, I didn’t have a car.
Fast forward to the middle of my sophomore year in college. Concerned that the focus of my program was not the best fit for me, I decided to transfer to the college closest to my parents’ house. That would be a savings, I reasoned, because they wouldn’t have to pay for my room and board (that’s how a 19-year-old’s brain works; of course they were paying for my food and the roof over my head and the utilities I was using).
My Tempest looked like this, but mine was turquoise. Is that road snow-covered? Show-off.
The first week at my new school, I discovered that the two buses I had to take got me to school in an hour and a half, and the return trip was just as tedious. So Dad bought me a used Pontiac Tempest and driving lessons. The room and board savings flew out the window. But I actually got my driver’s license.
Of course, a few days later, the first blizzard of 1972 struck while I was in class. I called Dad, and he bummed a ride to the college from a neighbor, and drove me home in my new car.
I never got over my fear of driving in snow. (I’m glad I live in the Arizona desert now.)
In 1974 I married my sweetheart. We lived in an apartment in a subdivided house in Edison, New Jersey. Which meant that every day, traveling to and from work, I had to cross the Morris Goodkind Bridge. Like its companion, the Donald Goodkind Bridge (though neither of them were particularly good or kind, by the way), it was three lanes wide. From the outer lanes, it was a very long, terrifying drop to the water. And I was sure my car was destined to take the plunge. Southbound on Route 1, I could stay in the middle lane, where I only had to worry about the 18-wheelers whizzing past me on both sides. But northbound, I had to stay in the right lane, mere millimeters from a watery grave, because my exit was just past the northern shore of the Raritan River. Many years passed before I could make that drive without dissolving into panic. Moving to a different part of New Jersey helped.
The Morris and David Goodkind Bridges may look pretty from this angle, but when I drove across them, they seemed neither good nor kind.
I finally became comfortable with driving, at least under favorable weather conditions.
And then I had kids.
Becoming a parent gives you a new respect for the perils of the road. One second’s inattention could cause the loss of my family’s next generation. The sense of the responsibility made me hypervigilant and phobic.
By the time I had five children, I came up with a strategy for minimizing distractions in the car. If the kids got too noisy, I’d find a place to pull over and we wouldn’t move again until everyone was calm. It worked so well that after a few years, if I stopped at a traffic light, one of the kids would ask, “Mom, what did we do?”
At this point in my life, I have 45 years of driving experience. I’ve only had one accident—when I was still in college and drove on an icy bridge on the way home. (Honestly, why are people that young allowed to drive? I think the driving age needs to be raised—to 35.) But my friends all know I won’t drive at night if it’s raining. Too scary. The reflections confuse me. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)
How about you? Do you drive? Are you comfortable driving in rain or snow? Have you ever been afraid to cross a bridge? What scares you? Share in the comments below.
Children and Politics
(This post first appeared on the Christian Children’s Authors blog in Nov. 2016. I thought it might be a good reminder for this Inauguration Day.)
First, let me be clear, I hate political rants. This post is not one of them. It doesn’t raise one party over another or cheer one candidate and boo another. It is a guide for how to help your children navigate this emotional time in our country.
Think back to your childhood. What emotions come to mind? As I reminisce on mine, I see days of happy play with my siblings. Neighbors and church members looked out for one another and people lived relatively peacefully together.
In the Meme Time: Hold On
Posted in Christian Living, Doing Life Together, failure, Faith, Fear, Life, Perserverance, Prayer, When life seems too much
Tagged Adversity, comfort
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Santa and the True Spirit of Christmas…by Andrea R Huelsenbeck
Note: This article was originally written in 1994, published in The Annals of Saint Anne and later in Active Christian News.
A portly man with a white beard, wearing a flannel shirt and suspender-supported blue jeans, pumped gas into his car. My then two-year-old son Matthew watched through the car window.
“Who is that, Matt?” I asked.
“Santa,” he whispered.
The man noticed Matthew’s peering eyes and waved.
We saw the man again a year later as he exited a delicatessen we were approaching. This time he wore a tuxedo with a shocking pink bow tie and cummerbund. Perhaps this was the day of his daughter’s wedding.
“Who is that, Matt?”
“Santa!”
As we passed, the man winked at Matthew and asked me, “Has he been good?” Obviously, he knew whom he resembled and enjoyed playing the part.
Every December, the man spent his free time attending preschool and Sunday school Christmas parties. He assumed the role of guest of honor at my children’s preschool. Wearing a finely tailored red velvet suit and cap trimmed in white plush, with black leather belt and boots, wire-rimmed glasses, white gloves, rouged cheeks, and his home-grown full white beard, he appeared to be the genuine article, not a department store imitation.
He listened attentively to the children’s requests, commenting on their wishes. When someone asked for a popular toy in short supply, I heard him reply, “Well, Mike, I’ll try. I’ve had a lot of orders for that one, and I’ve got my elves working overtime, but I can’t guarantee I’ll have it in time. Please don’t be disappointed if I leave you something else instead.”
Though he was willing to provide his services for free, when payment was offered to him, he said, “Thank you. I’ll send this right out to the American Cancer Society.”
Some might say the man really epitomizes the spirit of Christmas. Yet, he’s a mere caricature of the original Saint Nicholas, the legendary fourth century archbishop of Myra in Asia Minor (now Turkey).
As the story goes, a poor man had three daughters, for whom he could not provide dowries. He agonized over their fates should he die. With no father, brothers, or husbands to support them, they were doomed to lives of poverty and degradation.
Nicholas, aware of the poor man’s dilemma, tossed three sacks of gold through the family’s window in the middle of the night.
Out of this folklore grew the custom of surreptitious gifts on Saint Nicholas’ Day, December 6. Eventually, someone (no doubt an advertising executive) got the bright idea of combining Saint Nicholas gift-giving with the celebration of Christmas.
Sadly, many people measure their self-worth by the quantity of presents they receive. Nothing could be more pitiful than not getting any gifts at all. Feeling guilty about the poor and the homeless who might not experience any Christmas bounty, we look for ways we can contribute.
Charities increase their appeals during the Christmas season. Many collect more money during the period between Thanksgiving and New Year’s than during the whole rest of the year.
All December long we hear about individuals or corporations who provide gifts to needy families, thereby demonstrating the “true spirit of Christmas.” We hear about scout troops that donate toys to hospitalized children, and youth groups that sing carols at retirement homes. We sigh and say, “Ah, that’s what Christmas is all about.”
Sadly, the same shelters and food banks that were inundated with offers of good cheer in December get almost no attention in January or August.
The original Nicholas gave three dowry-deprived girls what they needed for a bright future. He wasn’t merely concerned with giving toys to underprivileged children. His motivation was changing lives, bringing hope where there had been despair.
Nicholas’ own model was Jesus, the man whose birth we celebrate on December 25. Jesus described His life’s goal with these words: “…I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10: 10b ESV). The abundant life Jesus offers is eternal life, with God, not earthly possessions.
And that’s the true spirit of Christmas.
Posted in Christmas, Gifts, Holiday, Jesus, Santa
Tagged Christmas, family stories, St. Nicholas, traditions
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Diamond Ring and Christmas by Betty Mason Arthurs
Diamond Ring and Christmas
by
Betty Mason Arthurs
Christmas time brings both happy and painful memories. Today, I share one of a father’s love and his gift.
A father kept a memorable gift tucked away in the top drawer of his dresser. Among his extra keys, spare change, combs and handkerchiefs nestled, like delicate eggs in a nest, a small blue velvet box. David often touched the box and then opened it to gaze at the beautiful diamond ring, a gift for his lovely daughter.
His daughter was the sunshine in his life. It’s not often parents give birth to a selfless child who loved them “to the moon and back” even after she married. Marcy gave them a delicate granddaughter and handsome grandson. She and her family lived close by and every visit overflowed with her love and concern for her parents.
Marcy would turn 30 years in May. David visited a jeweler and they fashioned a custom gold ring with three small emerald cut diamonds for her birthday. The ring captured a visible, glittering expression of his love. Perhaps someday his granddaughter could wear the ring.
Then a few days before her birthday, and Mother’s Day, came the horrific news every parent dreads. “There’s been an accident. Marcy died instantly.” A few miles from home on a busy city street the van was hit head-on and Marcy’s two children in the backseat were badly injured. One driver was arrested for a DUI.
David, a retired fire fighter, and his wife, Catherine, fought to overcome their own sorrow while caring for Marcy’s grieving husband and their grandchildren. “God help us,” they prayed. There were days and days of hospital visits until the motherless family moved in with them. Sleepless nights followed hectic days of comforting three-year-old Jennie and six-year-old Troy. Catherine often held a weeping Jennie in her arms and rocked her to sleep. Troy said when asked about his mom, “I miss her a lot, her hugs and her smell.”
Christmas approached and the family tried their best to decorate a tree and hang outdoor lights. The children needed new holiday memories. Yet David knew, due to all their extra expenses, money was tight and he wondered how to buy the children presents. How would they pay for the sumptuous dinner Catherine always fixed for all the relatives?
In the black days following Marcy’s death, in the quiet of the bedroom, David would gently open the box and gaze at the precious diamond ring. Sometimes he cried, knowing his sweet girl would never wear it.
Two weeks before Christmas he felt God gave him an idea. Could he sell it to have Christmas money? Would his good friend across the street buy it as a gift for his wife? It would be painful to part with Marcy’s gift, but David was sure she would want her children to have a happy holiday. Catherine agreed, “We need to sell it.”
The next day, David knocked on his neighbor’s door. Teary-eyed, he told the story of Marcy’s ring and opened the tiny box. The ring’s diamonds glistened, beaming forth a sparkling message of love. “We’re really short on Christmas money.” Then he asked, “Would you like to buy it for Lois?” Mark embraced David just as he had on the day of Marcy’s death, “Yes, I’ll buy it. Lois has never had an engagement ring. I’ll save it for our 35th anniversary in June.”
My husband, John Mark, is the neighbor in this story from 15 years ago. I have also changed the names of our neighbors. Yes, John gave me this priceless diamond ring on our anniversary. I am Betty Lois and you can imagine I wept when told the story of a father’s love when given the ring meant for his daughter. Every time I look at my ring I am awestruck…it’s a symbol of unending love.
One of my favorite Christmas carols is “Merry Christmas, Darling,” sung by the Carpenters in the 1970s. Today we can still hear the rich voice of Karen Carpenter singing about being apart but together in heart and soul. It’s a timeless message for all who have lost a loved one. On Christmas I dedicate this song to David and his daughter.
God the Father so loved us that He gave the incredible gift of His son, Jesus. Christmas shows the almighty, powerful love of God for mankind. Jesus, the perfect gift, “tucked away” by the Father until the right time.
“Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift.” 2 Corinthians 9:15 (NIV)
Posted in Christmas, Christmas music, Doing Life Together, Faith, Family Life, Family Stories, Fathers, Gifts, Greatest love ever, Grief, Jesus, loneliness on holidays, Love, Parenting, Uncategorized, When life seems too much
Tagged car accident, Christmas love, Christmas story, Diamond ring, father's love, grandchildren, neighbors
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My Favorite Christmas Books
At Christmas, I sometimes like to read something that gets me in the Christmas spirit. I’ll share a few of the books that have helped me do that.
Mary’s Journal, A Mother’s Story by Evelyn Bence gives life to Jesus’s mother, before she conceived him, during her pregnancy, and in the early years of Jesus’ life. It is imaginatively written, but done in such a way that it seems very believable. I gained fresh insight into that time period, its customs, and what might have been some of Mary’s thoughts and feelings as the mother of God’s Son.
Shepherd’s Abiding by Jan Karon is the heartwarming story of Father Tim trying to restore an old nativity for his wife, Cynthia. It’s filled with the usual quirky characters from Mitford and written with Karon’s typical warmth and humor. If you’re a Mitford fan, you need to add this to your collection.
The Modern Magi, by Carol Lynn Pearson is short, only 71 pages, which may be one of the reasons I love it so much. I actually read this one to my children when they were upper elementary age, one chapter each night. It’s about middle-aged Annabelle Perkins, who dreams of visiting the Holy land to give Jesus a gift at his birthplace just like the wise men did two thousand years ago. She saves her money for months and months and is about to fulfill her dream. But then some surprising things happen that force Annabelle to rethink her trip. I highly recommend this book.
Two from Galilee by Marjorie Holmes is a classic. It’s the love story of Mary and Joseph and includes the early life of Jesus. Holmes uses her generous imagination to bring the pages of scripture alive. If you love this book, you might also want to read its sequels, Three from Galilee and The Messiah.
God’s Precious Gift in a Manger – by Rebecca Ann Lamb is unlike any other children’s Christmas book I’ve seen. Written for kids ages four through seven, it begins at creation and, as the back of the book says, “puts the Christmas story in historical perspective. Ever since sin separated people from God, God had a plan to restore their relationship with Him. Since the beginning of time, He knew His gift would give life back to humanity. And that gift was given…in a manger. Follow God’s plan through the Bible to the birth of Jesus. And gain a deeper understanding of God’s love for His people.” The illustrations by David L. Erickson are absolutely beautiful and the text is written simply enough for young children to understand. At the back of the book are activities and questions for parents to use with their children.
The Christmas Conversation Piece (or as I like to call it, The Christmas Question) by Paul Lowrie and Bret Nicholaus is a book of Christmas related questions. You can use it to spur conversations and get to know people better. I’ve used it as an ice breaker in Sunday school classes, parties, Christmas open houses, and with my own family. However you choose to use it, it’s lots of fun and because of that it has earned its place on my favorite Christmas books list.
Mercy Inn, by Lee Warren, is a new release this Christmas and I confess that I haven’t quite finished it yet. But I’m enjoying it so much I had to include it in this list. Three people traveling to spend Christmas with their loved ones are sidetracked by a snow storm. They all take refuge at The Mercy Inn and find new friendships, faith, and healing.
So there you have it, my favorite Christmas books. Did I leave out your favorites? List them in the comments. Happy reading!
Linda
Posted in Book reviews, Books, Christmas, Doing Life Together
Tagged Christmas books, Christmas spirit, Linda Carlblom
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Allison Boley
Carol Boley
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Joy
Andrea R Huelsenbeck
Betty Mason Arthurs
Linda Carlblom
Peggy Levesque
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Judy Robertson
Doing Life Together 