Seasonal Sisterhood

Unlike most women, I don’t like shopping, not for clothes, food, household items, or anything else. It’s time-consuming and often unfruitful, which then requires a second day’s effort on the same task. The result of all my negativity is that by the time I finally venture out with a list, there are 8 or 9 stops on it, almost enough to debilitate a non-shopper. And during the holidays? The list covers both sides of the paper.

Red doorMy irritability showed recently as I walked into Target, ready to tackle item #6. Taking time for a quick bathroom stop, I stood in front of the red door pushing the button on my car key’s remote control.

When it wouldn’t open, I stretched my arm out straight, much like a TV watcher, clicking my “unlock” button like crazy. It was the word “PUSH” printed on the door that straightened me out, and I wondered how many people behind me were enjoying a good laugh.

When I finally had a cart, I realized I’d left my list on the car dashboard. But heading back to the parking lot, I found out there were other shoppers worse off than me. A woman two parking spots down was in such a hurry she jumped out of her car, slammed the door, and raced toward the store without turning off her engine.  I decided to get in my car and wait a minute to see what would happen.

As I sat there, another holiday shopper pulled into the spot in front of me. Then she did something funny. She wrapped her arms around her steering wheel like she was giving it a hug, putting her face on her arms. Was she crying? Napping? Praying?

Deciding she just needed a moment, I left her alone and headed back to Target, this time with my list. Immediately inside a woman was wrestling her cranky toddler into a cart, his pajamas sticking out from under his jacket. Her preschooler was standing next to her, also still in pj’s.

Parking lotThese women all belong to The Sisterhood of the Over-Committed when it comes to Christmas prep. It’s the extra baking, entertaining, gift-wrapping, decorating, addressing Christmas cards, and for moms of school children, attending programs, keeping track of holiday clothes, parties, grab bag gifts, and teacher presents that make December an over-committed month. It’s what brings women together in a Target parking lot, all of whom have been pressed to the point of acting irrationality.

God is hoping the birth of Jesus will be our #1 priority at this time of year, not just in our hearts but in our actions.

Jesus cameBut when we get spread too thin, much of the joy he wants us to experience evaporates, and we can’t wait for the season to end. Surely this isn’t the way to celebrate our Savior’s arrival.

Tomorrow: a few suggestions to lighten the holiday load so there’s more time for Jesus. Also, the end of the car-left-running story.

“In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling….” (Psalm 127:2)

Happy Memories (Conclusion)

In John's carIn yesterday’s post I left you sitting in the back seat of our wedding getaway car listening to Nate’s surprise over the well-appointed gas station bathroom. We had changed out of our wedding clothes so as not to be conspicuous in the airport and were ready to focus on the task at hand: ditching the posse chasing us with a desire to punctuate our wedding night with pranks.

Our driver, John, headed for O’Hare with a line of cars hot on our trail and pulled up to the departure curb seconds ahead of them. Nate and I grabbed hands and bolted from the car into the crowded airport, hoping those in pursuit wouldn’t find out we weren’t actually flying anywhere.

Zig-zagging through mobs of travelers that Thanksgiving weekend, we darted into a gift shop and crouched behind a long display case, ignoring the stares of shoppers. Never mind that the case was glass on all 4 sides; it was the best we could do. It worked like a charm, though, because through the glass we got a glimpse of our pursuers running by, heading for the nearest gates. (No TSA to stop them in 1969.)

As soon as they passed our hiding place, we darted from the gift shop and ran back toward the street, crossing our fingers that John would just be completing his drive around the airport loop as we got there. Ideally we hoped to jump into his still-moving vehicle before our parade of pursuers saw us.

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This memory of our post-wedding chase put a smile on my face last weekend as Nate’s and my anniversary date passed without him, once again. On our wedding day we were both 24 years old, and all was right with the world. Yet even during our romp through the airport, we were half-giggling and half-fearing. If our pursuers found us, would they really stick like glue all night? Might our marriage get off to a rocky start  because of whatever pranks they would pull?

That same conflict of feelings, giggling while fearing, reoccurred more than once in our 40 years together, not during any chase scenes but in everyday life. When threatening circumstances appeared, we tried to:

  • laugh, though nervous
  • smile, though anxious
  • giggle, though fearful

Actually, beneath those cheery exteriors, we might have been downright terrified, and God never wanted that. He wants all of us genuinely laughing, smiling, and giggling while letting him handle our nervousness, anxiety, and fear. But since our nature is to nurture the negatives and play down the positives, it takes willful determination on our part to follow his directive. When we do, though, our lives will be characterized by lots of joy.

The DrakeAs for Nate and I, all that nervousness was for naught. John was waiting at the airport curb, our pranksters never found us, and we giggled (without fear) all the way back to The Drake, where we had a short but very sweet honeymoon.

“Anxiety weighs down the heart.” (Proverbs 12:25)

Happy Memories

The four days of Thanksgiving weekend included the 4th time I’ve come to my wedding anniversary without my husband. So on Friday, November 29, my thoughts floated between 1969 and 2013. It would have been 44 years.

As I told my children, though, this year wasn’t as difficult as the year before, which wasn’t as difficult as the year before that. A broken heart does mend, because it’s God who’s working gently within, doing the healing himself. And part of that is his pointing me back to the good times Nate and I had together.

The receptionAs I looked at wedding pictures this weekend and thought about that day, God reminded me of a funny incident after our reception. Back in the sixties it was common for a bride and groom to be “pranked”, so it was important to have a getaway plan.

Nate’s friend John from law school agreed to be our driver and seemed a safe bet, since none of our friends knew him or his car.

Our honeymoon destination was The Drake Hotel, only 1½ miles from Moody Church, so it was critical no one find out where we were going. If they did, they’d be knocking on our door all night, harassing us with phone calls, dogging our every move.

featured_Drake_Snow_BannerNate had stored his car (and our suitcases) near The Drake a week before the wedding, so all we had to do was get ourselves there without being followed. The plan was to first head for O’Hare Airport, making everyone believe we were flying out of town. Then we could double back to The Drake for a peaceful, private honeymoon.

Rice throwingAfter the rice was thrown and we were safely in John’s back seat, a trail of cars set out following us, as expected. John did his best to lose them, but the chase was on, and even red lights didn’t stop them.

Earlier in the day I’d put my long coat in John’s car and Nate had added his own clothes. He didn’t think it appropriate to change in the back seat, so en route to the airport, John pulled into a filling station. The chasing cars hung back, ostensibly waiting for us to gas up, but Nate grabbed his clothes, crouched down, and raced to the bathroom door. In the back seat, I slipped out of my gown and into my coat.

MirrorWhen Nate returned, he said, “That was the nicest bathroom! It had a full length mirror and everything!”

“That,” we said, “was because it was the women’s bathroom.” (We’d all seen the sign.)

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It was just a tiny memory on my anniversary without Nate, but God used it to prompt gratitude. All widows have hundreds of happy recollections like that, and it’s wisdom to summon them up in order to transform a broken heart into a thankful one. And what better weekend to do it than Thanksgiving?

[Chase conclusion tomorrow]

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)