Long marriages

Old Marriages

I’ve been thinking about old marriages because I have observed many couples married forty, fifty, or sixty years on my snowbird retreat.  Yes, they have been married to one person all those years!  When we had been married about ten years, I couldn’t fathom we’d ever reach the twentieth anniversary.  We still had a lot of tugs, stumbles, and stubbornness in our marriage.  However, we learned the ebb and tide of flowing together through hardships, rearing two boys, and celebrating and having fun together even when we were fussing, arguing, and competing with each other.

It is a terrible combo when two competitive people that are both the babies in the family get married.  We both want to win.  It doesn’t matter if it is playing cards, climbing a mountain, succeeding in our career, or doing our own thing, or arguing.  We want to win.  Having the birth position of “baby” creates a dimension of  “it’s mine and I’m special”.  It has taken years to realize I am competitive even if I am not the athlete my husband is.  But, all these years together have taken the edge off our competitiveness, and we understand each other’s need to win.  We have taken competitive energy and turned it into together energy.  We have turned self-centeredness into we can do this together. 

Our marriage is like the sunrise.  We have seen some stormy mornings, vibrant red skies, ordinary days, and basked in the miracles of the rising sun.  It has taken all these circumstances to mold us, change our hearts, turn our cheeks, and lift our spirits during tough times.  Like a lingering sunrise of red, orange, and yellow upon a tranquil teal sea, each of these days together has created beauty within.  We appreciate each other’s talents and gifts, understand the gold in our hearts, and see the sunrise in each other.

We have celebrated well.  Energized by traveling to new countries, experiencing different cultures, and tasting foods and wines from afar have created an “awe” button within.  When we push that button, we vocalize to each other the magic of travel and how it has changed our perspective, awakened epiphanies, and increased our ability to appreciate those unlike us.  We embrace and love the new friendships that have been gained in our travels from New York to California, from Kazakhstan to Europe.  We always have a travel dream in our hearts and gratefulness for how our journeys have added to our marriage. Traveling together has made us best friends.

When we said, “ I do”, we didn’t realize the struggles and tears we would shed together.  We cried tears of anger and in sorrow.  When our children were hurting, ill, or challenged, our hearts sank in unison.  When we faced illness, financial hardships, or family deaths, that “ I do” became a contract.  I do love you even if we’ve made wrong judgments, been neglectful, are suffering illness, or standing firm in faith for our children’s healing. I do love you when you wrap your arms and energy around me and give me strength.  I love how you help me turn a negative into a positive by joining your energy with mine.

Forty-nine years of cheering at football games, laughing at our children’s antics, becoming that sacred title of “grandparent”, or going on a date, we have been blessed.  Only an old marriage realizes the magnetic energy of dancing like we did when we were teens. When old bodies embrace, music is heard and understanding is projected. We often need to help each other with a lost word when we share a favorite story.   Old marriages are like worn baby blankets.  They have comforted, warmed us, and been there through sleepless nights.  We have become that security blanket to each other.

I am so grateful we both held on to our marriage.  Through battles and victories, it has grown old, sentimental, and so sweet.

Life Lesson 

As I put my toes in the sand, I sink into its warmth.  The dry land embraces my feet.  It makes me aware that I must choose.  Yes, I must decide which direction I move toward the ocean.  Should I walk on the shells, wince and complain?  Perhaps, I need to take more steps on a smoother turf to reach my destiny.  Each step is a process of sinking and selecting.  This awareness reminds me of life.  I may choose to retreat and just stand on the boardwalk and not enter into the clement waters.  I can see the cerulean hues and hear the swish of waves.  This is pleasant and comfortable.

Then, I crave more.  I select a different path to the ocean.  The sand is lukewarm, soft, filled with lovely childhood memories. The sunshine on my skin soaks into my bones.  The balmy breeze brushes my face as I step into the water.  Suddenly, I encounter the waves of life.  They wash around me and sometimes make me off balance.  I must commit myself again.  Do I want comfort or understanding?  I see something shining under the water.  I reach for it just as an oncoming wave snatches it from my sight.  The treasure is gone.  It has been washed out to sea.  Do I quit?  Do I give up?

I choose to stay.  I fight the salty waves trying to push me down.  I ground my feet into the wet sand below.  I am a warrior.  I rest in the position I am in and reach toward the Almighty.  I know He is with me.  I am certain He cares about my destiny because He created me for it.  I am not a robot, so He doesn’t make my choices.  I choose my path, my balance, and my way of reaching and trying.  I reach again for the diamond beneath the water and, this time, I catch it.  It is a pointed shell broken but still lovely with its alabaster finish.  Broken yet beautiful.  I like how smooth it feels and how in the sunshine it reflects rainbows of light and color.  I have received a gift from the hands of the tide. For this I am grateful.

Psalm 36:5, “Your love, LORD, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies.” (NIV)

Reverend Myron Oyler tribute

Dedicated to Reverend Myron Oyler  

How do you thank a man who changed your life, your husband’s, and your two sons?  A man we loved and admired for many years went through heaven’s gate  on February 24.  He touched so many lives and made a difference in our world. 

The first time I met Myron, he extended the biggest, strongest hand I had ever felt.  His laugh was as big as his six foot four frame.  He was a farmer by trade but called by God to preach the gospel.  He followed that call with complete dedication, sincerity, and integrity. 

Myron taught me to read my Bible.  He knew the scriptures so well that I would use him as my concordance.  I’d phone him spontaneously and ask, “ Myron, where is the scripture on forgiveness, or baptism, or any other topic I was trying to grasp.” Amazingly, he could tell me where it was chapter and verse.  He expounded on why that scripture would change my life and anyone else’s.  He was a Bible scholar and his tattered Bibles revealed that it was a daily habit, not just a tool for Sunday sermons.

His sermons conveyed scriptural principles and always the love and power of faith.  He taught faith with the passion of Kenneth Hagin, his favorite evangelist.  Myron taught me faith. He showed me faith.  He lived by faith in Jesus and His powerful name.  He walked me hand in hand through believing for a miracle healing for our son, John Foster.  He taught me how to believe and sow seed into the kingdom of God and expect a dynamic return being shared with others.  He knew about seed from his years of farming and gardening.  He understood the physical principle and how to manifest the concept spiritually.  Our family trusted his insights and respected his love of the word.

He always had time to fellowship and serve his congregation.  If you needed a hand at picking corn or beans, he was there.  His love was chopping wood.  He took our youngest son, Adam, out to his farm to teach him to chop wood.  At the time, Adam was a football player, wrestler, and weight lifter.  He thought he was strong until he saw how a man forty years older swing that ax with precision, and cut and stack wood with speed and accuracy.  Adam came home that night exhausted exclaiming,

“ Mr. Oyler is the strongest man I’ve ever seen.”  Yes, Myron was strong in body and spirit.  He was one of a kind and a vintage example of the hard work ethic. 

Myron’s wife, Betty Jean, was truly his helpmate.  She too looked after and prayed for our children and so many more.  She and he had perseverance and compassion like no other couple I have ever known.  They loved the children of God and partnered in feeding, loving, and praying for them.  They modeled team marriage to our children and us. 

I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to love Myron and study under him.  He taught me to love Jesus on a deeper level.  He taught me the importance and impact of daily scripture meditation.  He gave his heart, body, and spirit to God’s children.  Now, he is with his Creator, laughing and praising Him in a new way.  I am confident that Myron is learning from God’s word in the heavens as he did on earth.  He was a servant of God who was faithful and obedient.  I am so grateful that he was my pastor and friend.  I’ll see you on the other side, Myron.  I will walk with you by our Savior’s side just as we did on this earth.  Thank you.  Thank you for all you gave to our family.  We are grateful and you will be missed.

*Funeral services will be March 5^th at 10:00 a.m. at Elm Ridge Funeral Home in Muncie.

Sunrise Secrets

                                                            Sunrise

“If you want to be reminded of the love of the Lord, just watch the sunrise.” 
― Jeannette Walls, Half Broke Horses

            What if each sunrise held a secret meaning? Have you ever considered that each cloud shape might be hieroglyphics from God?  Does He share individual messages in the sunbeams penetrating through the clouds?  I try not to prioritize, but instead, allow Him to direct my seeing.

            I feel closer to the kingdom of God watching the daybreak each morning.  I ponder the red, blue and orange message as the mist rises into the grey skies.  As I consider the presence of this new day filled with the beauty of the heavens, I find it majestic like our Lord.  He is filling me with His glory and opening my heart.  He is telling me how much He loves me. 

            Is He reminding us of His light and glory? I physically can see the manifestation of His hand, His glory, and His love as if dawn is echoing His words through the quiet of the morning.  It is for the entire world to see if we just take the time to be present and embrace the silent beauty. 

            As the sun slowly enters to light our world, the intensity changes.  The light shines through each cloud creating new images.  It is as if I can see into heaven and see God’s Shekinah glory.  I never tire of understanding these truths and admiring the magnificent light show spilling into paradise places.   I am certain there is a message of hope.  It cleanses my soul of despair and darkness.  It creates in me a new day.  Wonderful and glorious is the break of day, just like God is to me. 

            Layers of soft white lights fill the firmament with his glory.  Small smudges of pink highlight His goodness.  I am urged to lift my voice and hands in praise because He is my fortress and salvation. 

            This image continues all day and reflects in my mind instead of the waters below the sky where I watch this scene develop.  The sun’s circular formation is hiding behind the yellow and orange clouds.  At first, it is faint, but God slowly pushes it from the horizon into the heavens for all mankind to see.  Beams of light radiate out like a hand reaching to those who are watching, those who are expecting, and those who take morning minutes to praise and be humbled by this consistent but unique sight each day.  I am changed by His power. I am changed by His presence.

            I close my eyes and try to remember each hue, the wispy shapes of clouds that contrast against the fluffy ones, and the golden reflection in the still, orange waters.  I want to transport this image in my mind to glorify Him all this day.  I thank Him for speaking through the beauty of the dawn.  I thank Him for the bold colors that freshly awaken my soul with His majestic message of love.

                                                                                                                                                     

Just a Little Each Day

            Today I decided to share one of my philosophies of life.  Do a little each day.  It is amazing how journaling becomes a habit, even an obsession when I write a little each day.  Sometimes it is a simple line drawing with a label.  Other times, it is brainstorming from a picture drawn.  Another day, I have a scary dream so I write it down to break apart the fear and face it.  If the granddaughters have cute stories or funny sayings, I record that too.

            Some days are beautiful enlightened days where I write five pages of what I learned from scripture, sitting quietly before the Lord, or recording my new epiphany about life.  I love this new truth so much that I expand and expand to understand it more clearly. 

            Journaling is writing a to-do list: what to pack, who to call, or other procedural tasks.  I enjoy looking at this list in older journals.  I was one busy lady in the journals when I was teaching, toting teens to activities, entertaining, and creating. Those lists amaze me.  Did I really do all that?

            By writing or drawing something each day I have chronicled my life for many years.  Some of my favorite journals record scriptures that suddenly had new meaning.  I often write prayers for others, our country, or myself.  That’s it.  Write a prayer.

            When I first started, I realized how freeing a creative list could be, even therapeutic.  For example, I might write the word happy and follow it with a list of things that surround me with happiness.  Gratitude prevails when I make a list of favorite relatives that influenced me to write, paint, or love God.  Other lists include things I want to try, best books I read this year, most difficult things I’ve ever done list, etc.  Lists bring immediate gratification.  For example, make a list of all the places that you want to visit and why.  Put a star by the one you can do this year.  Suddenly, the list turns into life patterns and goals.

            What if you miss a day?  No big deal.  All the days that you do record will reflect your attitudes, life patterns, history, and so much more.  Try it.  Purchase a blank page journal and write a favorite quote.  That will get you started.    

For me, journaling records my life and growth.  I love making little boxes in front of my  “ to organize” list and checking them off when the task is completed.  Sometimes I record the date beside it.  You don’t have to complete your list that day.  It is written in your journal. Remember, it is a work in progress.  Somehow making the list feels like an accomplishment. 

            A little each day has grown into a reflection of my feelings, attitudes, grieving, favorite vacations, and the character traits  I love about someone.  I even paste obits and newspaper articles of world affairs on some pages.  That is my entry.  These words, photos, drawings are my history.  Are you ready to start your history?  Trust me on this one, it is so much fun. Just  put the date at the top of the page and write  or illustrate a little each day.  You will be surprised how quickly this habit becomes part of your day.

  

Finding Joy

You are the joy in my soul

     I love Rend’s  collection of words to his songs.  They bring soul to my heart because I feel the divine in them.  So, today’s blog I am sharing where I am seeking joy all this New Year.

     Although I am broken, not nearly perfect, and in need of my Savior daily, I am open to coming into His arms each morning.  Through his love, I feel a new lift, an igniting of His light into me.  This is joy indescribable. 

     Sometimes I feel like heaven is only one inch away.  I can’t imagine the glory of the golden streets, but I believe it.  I can’t understand a life in eternity, but I believe it.  I don’t comprehend everything in the Bible, but I believe it.  I don’t’ know when Jesus will return, but I believe it.  That brings me joy. 

     This New Year I ask that God creates in me a clean heart.  I am in hope that He transforms a miracle in me, a work of art molded by His hand.  The anticipation of this brings me great joy because I know He isn’t finished with me yet.

     May your New Year be filled with God’s joy.

Learning from the manger all year long.

Managing the Manger 

            During this season of advent, I have been pondering and meditating on each figure in the crèche.  I have asked each morning for the Lord to show me more truth, meaning, and understanding of how each person and their action relates to me 2000 years later.  The good news I hear in my spirit and mind has made this season holy.

              The new babe wrapped in swaddling clothes represents the warmth of His promises to me.  As swaddling comforts a new baby, I too am comforted by the good news in the Bible.

            The manger scene evokes peace in any artist’s rendition.  Angelic singing surrounds the scene proclaiming glory in the highest and peace to mankind.  As I draw near Him, I feel his peace.  2015 creates a need for peace in this world like we have never known.  We seek His peace amidst international stress, the refugee plight, the random madness of terrorist and crazed men, and the awareness of poverty here and across the globe.  I cry out for peace unto our world as I draw near Jesus and am comforted by His pure love.

            I seek.  I seek daily understanding of the Spirit’s plan for my life.  Just as the wise men sought out the king, they had to travel a long distance.  They anticipated but did not truly grasp what they would find.  The wise men brought gifts to offer the newborn babe and knelt down at his crib.  They found him and worshipped him. These sages teach me the importance of the gifts of hope, time, and worship. Why worship?  (John 4:23) When I worship, I am changed.  The light within me is ignited. The heart of God knows no distance.  He changes our attitudes and erases the furrowed wrinkles in our brow.  He touches us when we worship. May I hold onto this teaching all year long?

            Jesus was birthed in a manger.  Why a simple dwelling?  I believe because God wanted to teach us from a meager beginning a king can be born.  The manger gives me hope that the immigrant can become a CEO, the poor can become President, and the unnoticed can be noticed and given honor.  It is Jesus that makes the difference in our lives, not where we were born or reared.

            As I look at young Mary in my mind’s eye, I realize the definition of faithfulness.  She understood that she was to birth the Son of God.  Did she understand? We can’t know, but we read how she followed the admonition of the angel. She heard and followed.  Oh, teach me,  Mary, how to be faithful in spite of not knowing the entire plan.  Mary, teach me to trust as I gaze at you kneeling beside the Christ child.

            Joseph was a saint.  The angel that appeared to him said, “Joseph, descendant of David, don’t be afraid to take Mary as your wife because the baby in her is from the Holy Spirit…” Can we even wrap our minds around that statement? Imagine following through and do as you were directed? It wasn’t popular or even acceptable to have a baby out of wedlock.  Joseph didn’t question, he tried to find a warm place to comfort Mary in her pain.  Was he wondering why shepherds and cows were the first ones to see the Son of God?  What kind of celebration could they bring? It is through Joseph we learn trust combined with unconditional love.  He is the character in the scene that reminds us to not fear but trust regardless of circumstances.

            The manger manages many themes and illustrates several truths.  The most significant one is God loved us so much that He sent his only begotten son to earth to teach us pure love.  All He asks is that we return that love.  Let’s make this the holiday season and New Year filled with returned love.