Another post in the countdown to Dan and Donna's 25th anniversary this coming June, which I began a few weeks ago. It is my plan to post a story, remembrance and/or poem once a week for 25 weeks leading to the big date.
I saw Donna that September of 1983 and realized I was still very much drawn to her. But my breaking up with her had caused her so much pain and, besides that, she had two other fellas courting her. What was I to do?
Just a few weeks later, near Thanksgiving, Donna had cause to come back to Louisville. I invited her to spend some time at my parents' house visiting with us (with me) and she accepted the invitation. That night, we stayed awake late into the night, just talking things over.
When she started college at Murray, she had been planning on studying nursing, like her mother. But she quickly realized that blood and guts weren't for her and she changed her major to special education. She had a passion for helping children, especially those with physical and learning/behavioral problems. This compassionate, passionate side of her endeared her to me.
By this time, Donna was already considering going to the Southern Baptist Seminary to study church social work. She was considering doing missionary work of some sort, maybe in an urban setting.
I, on the other hand, was still wrapped up in my Christian band and had begun a career in woodworking.
I'm sure these are the things we talked and laughed about that night. I don't remember now.
All I know is that, if I thought I had made a mistake when I saw her back in September, I KNEW I had made a mistake, now. This woman was intelligent, concerned, beautiful, a follower of Jesus in the best way.
And as I sat there on our couch at three o'clock in the morning, all I could think was, "I need to ask her to marry me!" Crazy, I know. I had broken her heart. She had moved on. She had two other apparently decent guys who were interested in her. She STILL lived four hours away.
Despite all of that, I had to bite my tongue just not to out of the blue blurt out that question, "Donna, I know this is crazy, but will you marry me?"
I succeeded. I didn't ask. The night ended and we went to bed.
The next day, she went home.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Paradise Lost
I'm posting a comment I made once a long time ago. I just happened across it and thought my analogy is worthy of consideration.
There once was a dirt poor fella who won a lottery. He won $1 million!
He promptly quit his job at McDonald's and purchased a $5 million home (placing a $500,000 deposit on it and paying $25,000/month on house payments.) He also purchased a Hummer Limosine (for special occasions) and a Jaguar (or some insanely expensive car, sorry I don't know their names). These cost another $200,000, which he paid in cash.
He hired a butler and a maid to care for his house and a chauffeur to drive him around.
"But wait!" I said to this fella, "At this rate, you'll go through your $1 million THIS year. Then you won't have enough to support this lifestyle. You'll never be able to make the house payments after this first year, nor pay for your staff or even the gas for your cars!"
"Phhht!" he said confidently. "I still have plenty of money! I'll just keep playing the lottery and I'll probably win again. Don't be such a negative thinker. My ingenuity and determination have gotten me this far, haven't they?"
"Well," I sputtered, "PERHAPS you'll win another lottery, but wouldn't it be more prudent to take advantage of this opportunity WISELY? To use the resources to ensure your children and their children might have a better life?"
"Are you kidding me?!" He shouts. "Look at the life I'm providing them! How could it get any better than this???"
======
Now, surely, I would think that most would agree with me that this fella was a bit fortunate in getting that windfall but he is foolishly and quickly pissing it away and he'll be worse off in the end. This is conservatism in the good, practical sense.
We have resources now, we have wealth now, but what assurance is there that we will continue indefinitely to enjoy access to "our" cheap oil in the amount to which we've become accustomed? And if we aren't assured an unending supply of cheap oil (and we most assuredly are not) or even coal or natural gas, then how wise is it for us to base an economy upon it, acting as this fella did, as if it would always be there and easily available?
Not wise at all, seems to me.
In this bleak midwinter, let us give prudence our due diligence.
There once was a dirt poor fella who won a lottery. He won $1 million!
He promptly quit his job at McDonald's and purchased a $5 million home (placing a $500,000 deposit on it and paying $25,000/month on house payments.) He also purchased a Hummer Limosine (for special occasions) and a Jaguar (or some insanely expensive car, sorry I don't know their names). These cost another $200,000, which he paid in cash.
He hired a butler and a maid to care for his house and a chauffeur to drive him around.
"But wait!" I said to this fella, "At this rate, you'll go through your $1 million THIS year. Then you won't have enough to support this lifestyle. You'll never be able to make the house payments after this first year, nor pay for your staff or even the gas for your cars!"
"Phhht!" he said confidently. "I still have plenty of money! I'll just keep playing the lottery and I'll probably win again. Don't be such a negative thinker. My ingenuity and determination have gotten me this far, haven't they?"
"Well," I sputtered, "PERHAPS you'll win another lottery, but wouldn't it be more prudent to take advantage of this opportunity WISELY? To use the resources to ensure your children and their children might have a better life?"
"Are you kidding me?!" He shouts. "Look at the life I'm providing them! How could it get any better than this???"
======
Now, surely, I would think that most would agree with me that this fella was a bit fortunate in getting that windfall but he is foolishly and quickly pissing it away and he'll be worse off in the end. This is conservatism in the good, practical sense.
We have resources now, we have wealth now, but what assurance is there that we will continue indefinitely to enjoy access to "our" cheap oil in the amount to which we've become accustomed? And if we aren't assured an unending supply of cheap oil (and we most assuredly are not) or even coal or natural gas, then how wise is it for us to base an economy upon it, acting as this fella did, as if it would always be there and easily available?
Not wise at all, seems to me.
In this bleak midwinter, let us give prudence our due diligence.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Donna and Dan - 19
Another post in the countdown to Dan and Donna's 25th anniversary this coming June, which I began a few weeks ago. It is my plan to post a story, remembrance and/or poem once a week for 25 weeks leading to the big date.
I broke up with Donna in the summer of 1982, less than a year after first meeting her. I know that the break-up was especially painful for her. She wrote letters, she cried, we spoke on the phone... we continued to communicate and I know that it was a dark, cold time in her life and I felt miserable for it.
But I tried to put that behind me (easier for me than her, of course) and move on. "You'll be better off without me," I told her. "It's not you, it's me." "We can still be friends..."
All the normal lines.
We did our best to carry on.
She poured herself into her studies, I poured myself into my band. I found a job and life, as it is wont to do, moved on.
Donna began considering missionary work in the Baptist world or perhaps even going to the Southern Baptist Seminary (in my hometown of Louisville) and study their Church Social Work program. She would make a trip to Louisville occasionally to that end and sometimes on those trips, we'd meet to talk things over. Amazingly, we did seem to remain friends, mostly thanks to Donna's grace towards me.
We'd meet and she'd show me a song she was working on or talk about this guy she was thinking about dating or about her possible plans at the Seminary. I'd talk to her about the band.
In September of 1983, she came up to go to a conference at the Seminary. I hadn't planned on seeing her, but at the last minute, I decided, "Why not?" and I drove over to the Seminary just to say hi and see what was new. I talked with her on the phone and she told me where I could find her.
We met on the campus at the Seminary as the sun was setting and as I walked to meet her, I noticed her eyes sparkled in the night. She looked especially beautiful this fall evening, rather like seeing a deer unexpectedly in a dusky field and being amazed at her surprising shy glory.
We walked around and talked a bit, she told me how there were now TWO fellas vying for her attention. She spoke animatedly about the possibility of doing work with the poor, the marginalized, the least of these.
She was amazing and I, well, I discovered much to my amazement that I was captivated.
I had gone to meet her as a last minute fluke and here I was, unexpectedly entranced by her beauty and charm and passion. Had I made a mistake in breaking her heart and ending our love?
And, if so, what could I do about it now?
I broke up with Donna in the summer of 1982, less than a year after first meeting her. I know that the break-up was especially painful for her. She wrote letters, she cried, we spoke on the phone... we continued to communicate and I know that it was a dark, cold time in her life and I felt miserable for it.
But I tried to put that behind me (easier for me than her, of course) and move on. "You'll be better off without me," I told her. "It's not you, it's me." "We can still be friends..."
All the normal lines.
We did our best to carry on.
She poured herself into her studies, I poured myself into my band. I found a job and life, as it is wont to do, moved on.
Donna began considering missionary work in the Baptist world or perhaps even going to the Southern Baptist Seminary (in my hometown of Louisville) and study their Church Social Work program. She would make a trip to Louisville occasionally to that end and sometimes on those trips, we'd meet to talk things over. Amazingly, we did seem to remain friends, mostly thanks to Donna's grace towards me.
We'd meet and she'd show me a song she was working on or talk about this guy she was thinking about dating or about her possible plans at the Seminary. I'd talk to her about the band.
In September of 1983, she came up to go to a conference at the Seminary. I hadn't planned on seeing her, but at the last minute, I decided, "Why not?" and I drove over to the Seminary just to say hi and see what was new. I talked with her on the phone and she told me where I could find her.
We met on the campus at the Seminary as the sun was setting and as I walked to meet her, I noticed her eyes sparkled in the night. She looked especially beautiful this fall evening, rather like seeing a deer unexpectedly in a dusky field and being amazed at her surprising shy glory.
We walked around and talked a bit, she told me how there were now TWO fellas vying for her attention. She spoke animatedly about the possibility of doing work with the poor, the marginalized, the least of these.
She was amazing and I, well, I discovered much to my amazement that I was captivated.
I had gone to meet her as a last minute fluke and here I was, unexpectedly entranced by her beauty and charm and passion. Had I made a mistake in breaking her heart and ending our love?
And, if so, what could I do about it now?
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Old Mississippi
Okay, one more, but only because I forgot to plug their myspace page...
Old Mississippi
by Dylan Weber Owens
When you go all the way down to Mississippi
think of me seldomly, let your mind roam free
Set your sails eastward bound
All the way down the Ohio
See all the trees' falling leaves
forget about you and me...
...When I wake up on the rocks
of that Virginia creek bed
You'll remain just the same
But I think I'll change instead
You'll remain just the same
And that's my one regret.
Aren't these guys great? That's just a sampling of the great music we all got to hear this last weekend, when they put on a concert and also performed for the church coffee house!
Check 'em out at...
http://www.myspace.com/beadybeady
And be sure to check out their bios and the band's history! It's a hoot.
Rusted with Time
Rusted with Time
by Jordan Trabue
When they dig me out of here, fifty years from now
I know just what they will find
An old lonely man with no friends or family near
A young man rusted with time
I'm living life just like it seems to work
I put every one and myself first
I'm just a black hole up in the big ol' sky
A star with nothing to burn...
...excerpt, from the song as transcribed (perhaps incorrectly) by me and as performed in the video by Beady, this last weekend. Beady is my son, Jordan's, brand spanking new band. What is it about 18 year old lads and bands?
Isn't he great? (Finished bragging... for now.)
Monday, January 11, 2010
Donna and Dan - 20
Another post in the countdown to Dan and Donna's 25th anniversary this coming June, which I began a few weeks ago. It is my plan to post a story, remembrance and/or poem once a week for 25 weeks leading to the big date.
So, there we were: Nineteen years old and head over heels in love, separated by 250 of the farthest miles in the world. We spoke fairly regularly by phone and we wrote letters nearly every day. Occasionally, we'd work out a trip to see one another and that's what we lived for - the few moments together, knowing the clock would swiftly tick away our time.
While apart, Donna buried herself in her college studies and I in my Christian rock band work.
What happened next?
Well, my take on the story is complicated. The way I think of it is that one day it hit me how very deeply and painfully in love I was with Donna. I wanted nothing more than to be with her every day forever. I longed to hold her hand, to walk with her, to talk and laugh with her, to take hikes, go on trips, go to the movies. Anything, as long as we were together.
And then it hit me like a chunk of gravel: What does one do when one is so deeply in love and so very longing to be with another? You get married, that's what.
And the thought terrified me.
"Married? I'm only 19! I can't get married!"
Panic set in. What if Donna wasn't the One? What about all the other girls out there I hadn't had a chance to meet?
"I'm too young to get married!"
And so, I broke up with my beloved Donna, the love of my life.
Undone by fear and doubt.
That's my take on the story.
Donna's take on the story is that I was just a jerk.
She is right, of course.
Having known Donna for less than a year, having fallen hard in love and enjoying a months long whirlwind romance, I broke the heart of my beloved.
So, there we were: Nineteen years old and head over heels in love, separated by 250 of the farthest miles in the world. We spoke fairly regularly by phone and we wrote letters nearly every day. Occasionally, we'd work out a trip to see one another and that's what we lived for - the few moments together, knowing the clock would swiftly tick away our time.
While apart, Donna buried herself in her college studies and I in my Christian rock band work.
What happened next?
Well, my take on the story is complicated. The way I think of it is that one day it hit me how very deeply and painfully in love I was with Donna. I wanted nothing more than to be with her every day forever. I longed to hold her hand, to walk with her, to talk and laugh with her, to take hikes, go on trips, go to the movies. Anything, as long as we were together.
And then it hit me like a chunk of gravel: What does one do when one is so deeply in love and so very longing to be with another? You get married, that's what.
And the thought terrified me.
"Married? I'm only 19! I can't get married!"
Panic set in. What if Donna wasn't the One? What about all the other girls out there I hadn't had a chance to meet?
"I'm too young to get married!"
And so, I broke up with my beloved Donna, the love of my life.
Undone by fear and doubt.
That's my take on the story.
Donna's take on the story is that I was just a jerk.
She is right, of course.
Having known Donna for less than a year, having fallen hard in love and enjoying a months long whirlwind romance, I broke the heart of my beloved.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Happy New Year
When, in the midst of a dying season,
Brown, cracked leaves falling, rustling along
The cold hard ground,
We find warm comfort in the sweet honey smell of
Autumn
Life, graciously giving way to the next season,
We give thanks.
When, in the midst of an uncivil war,
Brother against sister against father against aunt,
We find communion around a holiday table,
Overwhelmed with laughter and fond memories
Of shared life,
We give thanks.
When, as the year winds down,
Life giving way to winter,
Pleasant breezes to chill winds,
We find hope in the promise that life will
Rise again in three short months,
We give thanks.
For comfort, communion and hope,
Lord, we are thankful.
Brown, cracked leaves falling, rustling along
The cold hard ground,
We find warm comfort in the sweet honey smell of
Autumn
Life, graciously giving way to the next season,
We give thanks.
When, in the midst of an uncivil war,
Brother against sister against father against aunt,
We find communion around a holiday table,
Overwhelmed with laughter and fond memories
Of shared life,
We give thanks.
When, as the year winds down,
Life giving way to winter,
Pleasant breezes to chill winds,
We find hope in the promise that life will
Rise again in three short months,
We give thanks.
For comfort, communion and hope,
Lord, we are thankful.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Donna and Dan - 21
More of the continuing saga of the love history of Dan and Donna, being just hours away from entering the year of our 25th anniversary. I began writing a once-a-week story or poem to or for Donna about four weeks ago and will continue the countdown to our June 1st anniversary...
I returned home from Murray in shame (from dropping out) and in love (from having met Donna). I was 18 and jobless so I did what comes naturally to young fellas in such situations: I joined a band.
Early in 1982, two of my best buds and I started a Contemporary Christian Music (CCM) band we called Remembrance.
Initially, we were just two acoustic guitars and a bit of harmony doing a few covers (BJ Thomas, anyone?) and a few originals. Our role models were Keith Green, Steve Camp, Larry Norman and DeGarmo and Key.
We wanted to save the church and the world with earnest Christian rock and roll and searing lyrics. We met regularly for prayer, Bible study and band practice. We would go on to play extremely sincere, exceptionally below average light Christian rock for about ten years, recording two cassettes of music ("Mechanical Man" and the lesser quality sophomore effort, "Name I Can't Even Remember").
We traveled all around Louisville and the Southeast US playing churches, street corners and wherever we could get a gig, giving our cassettes away for donations or for free. But I'm getting ahead of myself (by the way, the slideshow video accompanying this posted contain actual photos and scratchy recordings of da band - be warned, it's not pretty...).
Whilst I looked for a real job and began the work of starting this band, Donna and I wrote letters to each (and wrote and wrote and wrote), made phone calls and had the occasional visit - mostly her traveling to see me, as I recall. We missed each other with a passion in those weeks and months in between visits. Oh, how we longed to be in each others' arms, if only for a quick visit.
Donna and I shared an enthusiasm for CCM and I'm relatively sure that when it came time for our February and March birthday gifts, we probably gave each other cassettes of maybe Amy Grant, Brown Bannister, Andrus, Blackwood and Company and, of course, the late, great Keith Green.
We have saved most of our letters we wrote in those first few years of long distance dating (Murray is about 4 1/2 hours from Louisville). Here's an excerpt from one from that first year...
Danny,
Thanx for the letter. Sorry I sounded depressed on the phone. I'm kinda wantin' to call you now, but reckon I better not. I'll answer your letter first.
Thanks for telling me I'm beautiful. I don't know why you're so good to me when I only give you a bunch of headaches...
And on it would go. She'd write about college. I'd write about job-hunting or Remembrance or we'd both write about Christian bands we were listening to and the news from our respective churches and families. We couldn't afford many calls and so writing is all we had, and writing is what we did.
Being young, unemployed and with few resources, finding ways to make that trip across those million miles between us was nearly impossible but it was the one thing we wanted more than anything.
Could this new, deeply-felt love withstand this distance, with no assurance of any change to come for years?
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Prepare ye the way
Roughly eight centuries before the birth of Jesus, Isaiah wrote...
The Spirit of God, the Master, is on me because God anointed me.
God sent me to preach good news to the poor, heal the heartbroken,
Announce freedom to all captives, pardon all prisoners.
God sent me to announce the year of God's grace...
Israel was a companion of hard times and acquainted with grief, being a conquered people in a foreign land. Isaiah assured them that the oppression and injustice which they faced daily were not part of God's will.
Hundreds of years later, young Mary - still living in an occupied state and familiar with oppression and hard times - echoed Isaiah's protest, rejoicing in the news that she would bear a son, saying...
What God has done for me will never be forgotten,
the God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others.
God's mercy flows in wave after wave
on those who are in awe before him.
God bared an arm and showed God's strength,
scattered the bluffing braggarts.
God knocked tyrants off their high horses,
pulled victims out of the mud.
The starving poor sat down to a banquet;
the callous rich were left out in the cold.
God embraced the chosen child, Israel;
God remembered and piled on the mercies, piled them high.
Shortly afterwards, John the Baptist was born and his father also echoed Isaiah, reminding everyone that God was with the poor and oppressed...
Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel;
God came and set his people free.
God set the power of salvation in the center of our lives,
and in the very house of David God's servant,
Just as God promised long ago
through the preaching of God's holy prophets:
Deliverance from our enemies
and every hateful hand;
Mercy to our ancestors,
as God remembers to do what God promised to do
And John grew up, going on to be a wild-eyed preacher in the desert, calling Israel to repentence, preparing the way for the promised one. Luke describes it this way...
The crowd asked him, "Then what are we supposed to do?"
"If you have two coats, give one away," he said. "Do the same with your food."
Tax men also came to be baptized and said, "Teacher, what should we do?"
He told them, "No more extortion—collect only what is required by law."
Soldiers asked him, "And what should we do?"
He told them, "No shakedowns, no blackmail—and be content with your rations."
The interest of the people by now was building. They were all beginning to wonder, "Could this John be the Messiah?"
But John intervened: "I'm baptizing you here in the river. The main character in this drama, to whom I'm a mere stagehand, will ignite the kingdom life, a fire, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out. He's going to clean house—make a clean sweep of your lives. He'll place everything true in its proper place before God; everything false he'll put out with the trash to be burned."
There was a lot more of this—words that gave strength to the people, words that put heart in them. The Message! But Herod, the ruler, stung by John's rebuke in the matter of Herodias, his brother Philip's wife, capped his long string of evil deeds with this outrage: He put John in jail.
Then, finally, Jesus began his preaching, once again echoing Isaiah (literally quoting him, this time), saying...
God's Spirit is on me;
God's chosen me to preach the Message of good news to
the poor,
Sent me to announce pardon to prisoners and
recovery of sight to the blind,
To set the burdened and battered free,
to announce, "This is God's year to act!"
As we reflect upon this season, upon all that led up to Jesus' birth and the way that God has come to live amongst us, let us give thanks that God IS with us in very real and tangible ways and let us live our lives by God's grace in the steps of the one who came preaching good news to the poor and the day of liberation and salvation.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone.
And on earth, peace, good will to us all.
The Spirit of God, the Master, is on me because God anointed me.
God sent me to preach good news to the poor, heal the heartbroken,
Announce freedom to all captives, pardon all prisoners.
God sent me to announce the year of God's grace...
Israel was a companion of hard times and acquainted with grief, being a conquered people in a foreign land. Isaiah assured them that the oppression and injustice which they faced daily were not part of God's will.
Hundreds of years later, young Mary - still living in an occupied state and familiar with oppression and hard times - echoed Isaiah's protest, rejoicing in the news that she would bear a son, saying...
What God has done for me will never be forgotten,
the God whose very name is holy, set apart from all others.
God's mercy flows in wave after wave
on those who are in awe before him.
God bared an arm and showed God's strength,
scattered the bluffing braggarts.
God knocked tyrants off their high horses,
pulled victims out of the mud.
The starving poor sat down to a banquet;
the callous rich were left out in the cold.
God embraced the chosen child, Israel;
God remembered and piled on the mercies, piled them high.
Shortly afterwards, John the Baptist was born and his father also echoed Isaiah, reminding everyone that God was with the poor and oppressed...
Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel;
God came and set his people free.
God set the power of salvation in the center of our lives,
and in the very house of David God's servant,
Just as God promised long ago
through the preaching of God's holy prophets:
Deliverance from our enemies
and every hateful hand;
Mercy to our ancestors,
as God remembers to do what God promised to do
And John grew up, going on to be a wild-eyed preacher in the desert, calling Israel to repentence, preparing the way for the promised one. Luke describes it this way...
The crowd asked him, "Then what are we supposed to do?"
"If you have two coats, give one away," he said. "Do the same with your food."
Tax men also came to be baptized and said, "Teacher, what should we do?"
He told them, "No more extortion—collect only what is required by law."
Soldiers asked him, "And what should we do?"
He told them, "No shakedowns, no blackmail—and be content with your rations."
The interest of the people by now was building. They were all beginning to wonder, "Could this John be the Messiah?"
But John intervened: "I'm baptizing you here in the river. The main character in this drama, to whom I'm a mere stagehand, will ignite the kingdom life, a fire, the Holy Spirit within you, changing you from the inside out. He's going to clean house—make a clean sweep of your lives. He'll place everything true in its proper place before God; everything false he'll put out with the trash to be burned."
There was a lot more of this—words that gave strength to the people, words that put heart in them. The Message! But Herod, the ruler, stung by John's rebuke in the matter of Herodias, his brother Philip's wife, capped his long string of evil deeds with this outrage: He put John in jail.
Then, finally, Jesus began his preaching, once again echoing Isaiah (literally quoting him, this time), saying...
God's Spirit is on me;
God's chosen me to preach the Message of good news to
the poor,
Sent me to announce pardon to prisoners and
recovery of sight to the blind,
To set the burdened and battered free,
to announce, "This is God's year to act!"
As we reflect upon this season, upon all that led up to Jesus' birth and the way that God has come to live amongst us, let us give thanks that God IS with us in very real and tangible ways and let us live our lives by God's grace in the steps of the one who came preaching good news to the poor and the day of liberation and salvation.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone.
And on earth, peace, good will to us all.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Donna and Dan - 22
The winds were blowing the snow straight on towards the freezing VW microvan, swirling in a hypnotically straight line towards my windshield. Driving became nearly impossible, I could barely fight the urge to curl up in a blanket and go to sleep. I would stop every few miles or so, jump out, run around the van, splash some icy snow on my face to try to wake up, then get back in the van and try driving a bit further down the road.
I wanted so much to see Donna, but was it even going to be possible??
While my first college career began and ended before that first semester at Murray was over, the Dan and Donna love story did not. After spending much of our free time together that first semester, taking walks, talking about God and the Bible (yeah, we were Baptist geeks) and Contemporary Christian Music (yeah, we were CCM geeks, too), talking about Donna's classes and our plans, it came time for me to leave Murray, knowing I wasn't returning.
Knowing it would mean a huge physical separation for our newfound love.
Murray State University and Donna's home are both nearly five hours away from my Louisville home. And here I was, going back to my parents' home as a college drop-out and no job. My only plan was to look for work and to start a CCM band (oh, boy!) in the meantime.
But we made phone calls. We made plans to visit and, when that first Christmas rolled around, my parents graciously (foolishly?) allowed this 18-year-old manchild to borrow their old VW microvan and make that five hour trek to the dark corners of far western Kentucky to visit Donna at her parents' home for the very first time.
The problem was that their VW had no heat.
At all.
In fact, even with the vents off, cold air blew in.
And the weekend I planned my trip was a bitter cold one. And a snow storm was a-brewing.
Nonetheless, I dressed in layers, grabbed a blanket to drape across my lap and put on my gloves and ventured out into the cold, to make the long frigid trip across the barren grounds of a snowy western Kentucky.
The first fifty miles or so, I still pulsed with enthusiasm and energy, but the snow was picking up and I still had to drive the endless empty stretch of the Western Kentucky Parkway. Being winter, night fell early and the cold winds blew straight through the VW windshield, icing it over. I had to continually use the ice scraper on both the outside AND inside of the windshield.
I reached Beaver Dam, the halfway point, an hour behind schedule and freezing and tired. I warmed up with some hot chocolate at the rest stop and, with my strength renewed a bit, headed back out to make the second half of this Arctic trek. Hoping I'd make it alive.
On and on I trudged. Stopping occasionally to try to warm up and wake up (to no avail), scraping the windshield and moving on again. Having nearly reached the end of the WK Parkway, I was about defeated. It was getting very late and I was worn out.
I stopped at the Eddyville Penitentiary exit, found a payphone at a dark lonely gas station and called Donna.
"I d-d-don't think I can m-m-make it, sweetie. M-M-Maybe they'll put me up for the night at Eddyville?"
"But you're nearly here," she lied. "You can make it, can't you? Please??"
And so, I re-wrapped myself in my insufficient cocoon of shirts, jackets and blankets, pulled my thin gloves over my trembling fingers and restarted that cursed VW.
After leaving the main highways, I trudged, trembling and trepid, down the one lane roads towards my final destination. What seemed like hours passed, snow drifting across the road and entrancing me as it whipped towards the windshield, with me forcing my eyes open in an act of superhuman determination.
When finally, I spotted the house as it was described to me, its lights shining barely through the blizzardy gusts of snow and ice. I pulled into the driveway, praying I had reached the right place.
There she was! Donna came to rescue me, prying me from the frozen VW and helping me get into the doors.
Instead of greeting anyone, I ran straight for the cast iron woodstove in the corner of their living room, holding my frozen hands over it to begin the thawing out process, hoping against hope that no fingers would be lost.
And her parents' first impression of their future son-in-law was the teen-aged college drop-out who had run to a decorative (ie, NO HEAT) woodstove to try to warm himself up after barely being able to drive a few hours through a beautiful winter night.
Bad first impressions aside, they graciously welcomed me into their home and we all warmed to one another in time.
I wanted so much to see Donna, but was it even going to be possible??
While my first college career began and ended before that first semester at Murray was over, the Dan and Donna love story did not. After spending much of our free time together that first semester, taking walks, talking about God and the Bible (yeah, we were Baptist geeks) and Contemporary Christian Music (yeah, we were CCM geeks, too), talking about Donna's classes and our plans, it came time for me to leave Murray, knowing I wasn't returning.
Knowing it would mean a huge physical separation for our newfound love.
Murray State University and Donna's home are both nearly five hours away from my Louisville home. And here I was, going back to my parents' home as a college drop-out and no job. My only plan was to look for work and to start a CCM band (oh, boy!) in the meantime.
But we made phone calls. We made plans to visit and, when that first Christmas rolled around, my parents graciously (foolishly?) allowed this 18-year-old manchild to borrow their old VW microvan and make that five hour trek to the dark corners of far western Kentucky to visit Donna at her parents' home for the very first time.
The problem was that their VW had no heat.
At all.
In fact, even with the vents off, cold air blew in.
And the weekend I planned my trip was a bitter cold one. And a snow storm was a-brewing.
Nonetheless, I dressed in layers, grabbed a blanket to drape across my lap and put on my gloves and ventured out into the cold, to make the long frigid trip across the barren grounds of a snowy western Kentucky.
The first fifty miles or so, I still pulsed with enthusiasm and energy, but the snow was picking up and I still had to drive the endless empty stretch of the Western Kentucky Parkway. Being winter, night fell early and the cold winds blew straight through the VW windshield, icing it over. I had to continually use the ice scraper on both the outside AND inside of the windshield.
I reached Beaver Dam, the halfway point, an hour behind schedule and freezing and tired. I warmed up with some hot chocolate at the rest stop and, with my strength renewed a bit, headed back out to make the second half of this Arctic trek. Hoping I'd make it alive.
On and on I trudged. Stopping occasionally to try to warm up and wake up (to no avail), scraping the windshield and moving on again. Having nearly reached the end of the WK Parkway, I was about defeated. It was getting very late and I was worn out.
I stopped at the Eddyville Penitentiary exit, found a payphone at a dark lonely gas station and called Donna.
"I d-d-don't think I can m-m-make it, sweetie. M-M-Maybe they'll put me up for the night at Eddyville?"
"But you're nearly here," she lied. "You can make it, can't you? Please??"
And so, I re-wrapped myself in my insufficient cocoon of shirts, jackets and blankets, pulled my thin gloves over my trembling fingers and restarted that cursed VW.
After leaving the main highways, I trudged, trembling and trepid, down the one lane roads towards my final destination. What seemed like hours passed, snow drifting across the road and entrancing me as it whipped towards the windshield, with me forcing my eyes open in an act of superhuman determination.
When finally, I spotted the house as it was described to me, its lights shining barely through the blizzardy gusts of snow and ice. I pulled into the driveway, praying I had reached the right place.
There she was! Donna came to rescue me, prying me from the frozen VW and helping me get into the doors.
Instead of greeting anyone, I ran straight for the cast iron woodstove in the corner of their living room, holding my frozen hands over it to begin the thawing out process, hoping against hope that no fingers would be lost.
And her parents' first impression of their future son-in-law was the teen-aged college drop-out who had run to a decorative (ie, NO HEAT) woodstove to try to warm himself up after barely being able to drive a few hours through a beautiful winter night.
Bad first impressions aside, they graciously welcomed me into their home and we all warmed to one another in time.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
The Bible and Economics...
Part of an on-going series looking at what the Bible has to say about wealth and poverty and how we manage our economic affairs. You can find the entire series over on the left in my links under "The Bible and Economics," or right here.
Today, I'll look at a timely passage, from Luke 1. This contains the song Mary sang after finding out she was to give birth to Jesus.
I'll point out that in this story, God has chosen a poor, humble teen-ager as the vessel in which to bring God's "Good news to the poor," as Jesus himself later declares. I'll also point out that Jesus, the almighty son of an all-powerful God, was born in a stinky barn in the humblest of conditions. I'll also point out that, in Luke 2, Mary and Joseph made a "dove offering," which indicated they were likely poor. According to Wesley's Notes...
"2:24 A pair of turtle doves, or two young pigeons - This offering sufficed for the poor. Lev 12:8."
Upon learning about this Jesus who was soon to be born into dire, scandalous circumstances, Mary sang...
"My soul exalts the Lord,
And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.
For God has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave;
For behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed.
For the Mighty One has done great things for me;
And holy is God's name.
AND GOD'S MERCY IS UPON GENERATION AFTER GENERATION
TOWARD THOSE WHO FEAR GOD.
God has done mighty deeds with God's arm;
God has scattered those who were proud in the thoughts of their heart.
God has brought down rulers from their thrones,
And has exalted those who were humble.
GOD HAS FILLED THE HUNGRY WITH GOOD THINGS;
And sent away the rich empty-handed.
God has given help to Israel God's servant,
In remembrance of God's mercy,
As God spoke to our ancestors,
To Abraham and his descendants forever."
Understanding the circumstances in which young Mary found herself - a poor, pregnant out-of-wedlock, teen-aged young Jewish woman, part of an oppressed people in an occupied nation who were not unfamiliar with impositions, hardships, poverty and hunger - perhaps we should not be surprised that she would sing of a Day when ruthless rulers and oppressors would be brought down and the unjust rich sent away empty-handed, the humble exalted and the poor would be "filled with good things."
It is a point well worth remembering this Christmas season.
Today, I'll look at a timely passage, from Luke 1. This contains the song Mary sang after finding out she was to give birth to Jesus.
I'll point out that in this story, God has chosen a poor, humble teen-ager as the vessel in which to bring God's "Good news to the poor," as Jesus himself later declares. I'll also point out that Jesus, the almighty son of an all-powerful God, was born in a stinky barn in the humblest of conditions. I'll also point out that, in Luke 2, Mary and Joseph made a "dove offering," which indicated they were likely poor. According to Wesley's Notes...
"2:24 A pair of turtle doves, or two young pigeons - This offering sufficed for the poor. Lev 12:8."
Upon learning about this Jesus who was soon to be born into dire, scandalous circumstances, Mary sang...
"My soul exalts the Lord,
And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior.
For God has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave;
For behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed.
For the Mighty One has done great things for me;
And holy is God's name.
AND GOD'S MERCY IS UPON GENERATION AFTER GENERATION
TOWARD THOSE WHO FEAR GOD.
God has done mighty deeds with God's arm;
God has scattered those who were proud in the thoughts of their heart.
God has brought down rulers from their thrones,
And has exalted those who were humble.
GOD HAS FILLED THE HUNGRY WITH GOOD THINGS;
And sent away the rich empty-handed.
God has given help to Israel God's servant,
In remembrance of God's mercy,
As God spoke to our ancestors,
To Abraham and his descendants forever."
Understanding the circumstances in which young Mary found herself - a poor, pregnant out-of-wedlock, teen-aged young Jewish woman, part of an oppressed people in an occupied nation who were not unfamiliar with impositions, hardships, poverty and hunger - perhaps we should not be surprised that she would sing of a Day when ruthless rulers and oppressors would be brought down and the unjust rich sent away empty-handed, the humble exalted and the poor would be "filled with good things."
It is a point well worth remembering this Christmas season.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Donna and Dan - 23
Continuing the countdown until our twenty-fifth anniversary, in roughly 23 weeks, now.
Her lush fingers roll over mine like
fresh water running over a stream of age-graced stones,
smooth, playful, tender, electric
Her lush fingers roll over mine like
fresh water running over a stream of age-graced stones,
smooth, playful, tender, electric
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