The Carla Incident

A few months ago I referred to a future blog entry that might need a melodrama alert. Well, it's been a lot more than "a couple of weeks," but here's that story. Consider yourself warned....

It's been over a month since I shared the last chapter in my love story with Bill, the one in which he FINALLY proposed. Maybe you were thinking we just lived happily ever after from that point. Or maybe you know me better than that. In any case, I guess that's what I thought--not that everything would be perfect, but that my major struggles with insecurities would be over. Ha!!!

I greatly enjoyed our six-month engagement, now that I knew exactly how long the wait would be. I took delight in all the wedding and honeymoon decisions, which I analyzed in a spreadsheet of my own design. (Yes, I'm that anal.) We decided on a destination wedding, far from us but close to Bill's family, on Vancouver Island. We found a kind and personable minister over the Internet. Most importantly, my mom and my sister Emily helped me find the perfect dress, a flowing, rather ethereal gown that was neither too formal nor too casual.

So by December 2002, the only thing left to do was to savor the last couple of months until our March wedding. We'd planned our usual trip to Vancouver around Christmas, at which time we would apply for our marriage license and Bill would go for his final tux fitting. But just before that trip, Bill flew to Chicago for two weeks of training.

I'd been suppressing a mild sense of dread over his trip for months because I knew he'd be traveling with an attractive coworker whom I'll call Carla. She was cute, outgoing, and funny, and she was admired by many of the men at our office. [Carla, if you happen to read this and recognize yourself, please forgive me. This story is not about you at all, but about me and my insecurities.]

Now Bill had never given me any indication that he would be unfaithful; in fact, I'd never even seen him turn his head to look at a pretty woman. But as I pictured the two of them in Chicago, the place we'd fallen in love, that niggling fear grew into a cold, tight fist that constricted my heart and threatened to suffocate me. I imagined them talking endlessly in the rental car, visiting the same sites we'd frequented, staring into each other's eyes over dinner each night. I just knew she'd be inexorably drawn to Bill's warm brown eyes and his little boy laugh--and his muscles!

For nearly three days, I kept my crazy in the bottle. I chatted with Bill cheerfully each night, telling him about my day at work and Ethan's latest antics, and I tried to avoid questioning him too closely about who all went to dinner and who hung out at the mall.

But on the third night, Tuesday, I fell apart. Bill left a message that he'd probably be out late but would call when he got in. I waited up until 11:30 or so, but there was no phone call. I finally went to bed but couldn't sleep. Where was he? By 12:15, I had really worked myself up. I was angry and hurt, and I couldn't talk myself out of calling. Maybe he was back but was thinking I was asleep, I reasoned. There was no answer, and I fought the urge to leave a snotty message. Instead, I lay in bed and sobbed.

At 12:23, the phone rang. I dried my tears and tried to put a smile in my voice. Bill explained that the group had gone to the 10:00-12:00 special at Gameworks, a huge arcade, and he'd just now gotten back. Relief surged through me, but only for a moment. Next he mentioned that they hadn't really done anything the night before.

"You didn't do anything?" I asked. "Then why didn't you call?"

He explained that he and Carla had been playing cards in a classmate's room, and they wanted to go out, but the others refused to budge. So Carla asked Bill to drive her to the mall, where he followed her around for an hour or so while she shopped.

My stomach felt sort of queasy, but I kept quiet. Then he said they'd gone to the Cheesecake Factory afterward. My stomach was twisting in knots, but I bit my tongue. Then he said they'd sat around talking until 11:00! Since the mall usually closes at 9:00, I figured they must have been talking for two hours! (Actually it closed at 10:00, and he later told me they were there under an hour.)

I'd been determined to keep my insecurities to myself, but the angry words just spewed forth of their own accord. "That sounds like a date to me," I spat out.

Bill made a shocked noise and protested, "No it wasn't."

"Lingering an hour or two over cheesecake in a restaurant with a pretty girl seems like a date to me," I retorted.

He argued that she was happily married with three kids, and that all she'd talked about was her husband and family. I didn't really think any of that mattered, but I could feel that he was telling the truth, that nothing had happened.

I started crying and apologizing over and over. He didn't seem too upset, only surprised, but I had the sinking feeling that irreparable damage had been done. It wasn't that I thought something inappropriate had happened, I explained, but that I felt jealous of the time he'd spent with her. When he could have come home and talked to me on the phone, instead he was out talking with Carla.

Things slid downhill for the rest of the week. I was up each night for hours thinking and sobbing and thinking some more, and occasionally trying to pray. But my brain was too muddled, and the anxiety was relentless. I worried that Bill was having doubts about getting married, and then I started having my own doubts. I feared that I was incapable of having a healthy relationship and wondered if I should call the wedding off.

Somehow I made it through the long, lonely weekend and the following week. I wore a cheerful mask each time I spoke with Bill, and I was actually relieved when we missed each other and had to leave messages.

Bill didn't come home but flew straight to Vancouver, where I'd join him after a couple more days. By the time I climbed on the plane on Wednesday 12/11, I was utterly drained, and my heart felt bruised. I was fearful about the inevitable Relationship Talk, but I was too exhausted to worry any more. Instead, I spent most of the four-hour trip praying and reading my Bible.

I reviewed these scriptures, which God had given me earlier in the week:

Psalm 112:1, 7-8
Praise the LORD. Blessed is the man who fears the LORD, who finds great delight in his commands.... He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the LORD. His heart is secure, he will have no fear; in the end he will look in triumph on his foes.

What a perfect passage, now that I was ready to meditate on it! I knew that my foes were fear, depression, anxiety, and doubt. I didn't feel quite triumphant, but I did feel at peace.

I also studied the following passage, which my counselor Debbie had recommended that I memorize. (I didn't memorize it for several more years, but now I realize how powerful these verses are in combating anxiety. I could have spared myself a lot of agony if I'd heeded her advice immediately.)

Philippians 4:6-7
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 

"Okay, Lord," I prayed. "I'm finally ready to give you this burden.... I surrender my hurts and fears and hopes and dreams. I ask you to work it all out for my good. And I ask for that peace that you promised. I'm tired of leaning on my own understanding.... I'm giving up on solving this problem, and I'm coming to you with a thankful heart...."

I read on and on in my Bible, about how God's strength is made perfect in my weakness (Hebrews 4) and about how real love keeps no record of wrongs [real or imagined] but rejoices in the truth (I Corinthians 13). At last I sank into a peaceful, restful sleep.

When Bill picked me up at the airport, I was nervous and uncertain, but he was affectionate and happy, and everything felt normal. Still, I knew we had to talk. On my second day there, on the way back from the tuxedo shop, I asked Bill to stop in a parking lot so we could talk.

I was determined to be rational and logical, but naturally I started crying on the first sentence, which was, "I'm so sorry for the way I acted."

I couldn't seem to collect my thoughts and put them into words. [Imagine that!] I tried to explain why the Carla Incident had hurt so much, and how my own reaction had bothered me even more--I couldn't believe the jealous person I'd become. I told him I wasn't even sure we should go forward with the wedding because I was afraid I'd make him miserable, and I loved him too much to do that.

"Dear," he replied tenderly, "I'm not worried. I knew you were a basket case when I met you." He kissed my lips and my wet cheeks and asserted, "I know exactly what I'm getting into, and this is what I want to do."

My heart swelled with love for him. I'd never been this vulnerable with anyone, never allowed anyone to see the extent of my craziness. But he loved me anyway! In fact, I felt closer to him now than ever before, though I still regretted my immaturity--and the hours and hours of missed sleep and frenzied worry.

We spent the rest of that trip laughing and planning for our wedding, even visiting the hotel where we'd be married. But that's another story.

 Happier Moments During Our Vancouver Visit

  A Practice Run on Wedding Hair and Makeup

So now you know where the "Basket Case" in my blog title comes from. Maybe you're wondering why I chose to share this story. Well, I always knew that I would, though I'm still cringing at the thought of clicking the Publish button. This is part of my story, and I hope that sharing it might encourage someone else who struggles with insecurity and anxiety. I wish I could have let God transform me much more quickly, but that's just not how it happened. The really wonderful thing is that all those struggles I inflicted on myself ultimately drew me to God and made me love Him more when I finally allowed Him to set me free.

Worth Waiting For

Have you ever had one of those weeks? The one where absolutely everything goes.... RIGHT? I had a week like that once. It was back in September of 2002.

It started with my car breaking down. Other than the fact that it broke down in rush-hour traffic heading into downtown, this was actually a good thing. You see, I'd been driving that old red Mercury Tracer for about nine years, and I had vowed to drive it until the wheels fell off. My brother Rick accused me of being eccentric--even though he once kept a Dodge Shadow until it literally started falling apart. My car was in awful shape: it had a hole in the back bumper, it pulled violently to the right when you let go of the wheel, and there was some brake problem that made a constant racket that could only be drowned out by turning up the radio to full volume. Still, no matter how awful it got, the appeal of a new car just couldn't compete with the joy of having no payments.

So it broke down one afternoon, and that gave me a reason to buy a new car at last. Bill and I went car shopping together, which felt significant, and we found a silver Nissan Sentra that had all those extras I'd been doing without, like a CD player (!), electric locks and windows, and cruise control. We got it for a great price, and it's been a really good car--we're still driving it after seven years, and I will probably keep driving it until the wheels fall off.

A couple of days after the car broke down, Bill and I headed to Chicago for a programming class (in Basic, if you can believe that). Of course, the first thing that came to my mind was that this would be a great place for Bill to propose since Chicago was where we'd met and fallen in love. When I was packing, I called Bill and asked, "Do you think I need to bring a nice outfit with me?"

"I don't know," he replied. "Why?"

Trying to keep my tone perfectly nonchalant, I stammered, "Well, I know we aren't staying over the weekend, but do you think we'll be able to get out in the evening for a date while we're there?"

"We might."

"So should I bring something fancy?"

"If you want to," he said with barely restrained laughter in his voice. I heaved a big sigh and said goodbye. Then I packed my lucky blue sundress--even though it hadn't proved all that lucky on our trip to Alabama five months before.

The next big event of the week happened while we were in class. I found out I was getting a big promotion to the next level of the tech support group I was with at the time. I'd tested on a whim, never guessing I'd have a shot at the job. It came with a generous raise, just in time to make the new car payments!

The class was also pretty fun. It was very challenging and mentally stimulating, and I took to programming like I was made for it. I loved putting my head together with Bill and troubleshooting each other's programs. We still do that sometimes now when one of us needs to solve a tricky problem at work, and I always find it exciting to team up that way. But I digress....

It wasn't looking too promising in the proposal department, though. I couldn't find the chance to break into Bill's hotel room and search his suitcase for dress clothes, so I still didn't know if he was planning a big date. The first four days passed without anything remotely romantic happening, and I was starting to lose hope.

On Thursday, our last night there, Bill asked what I thought about going to Long Grove for dinner. This was the little tourist town we'd visited on the Chicago trip when we'd had our first date. It was a fair drive from our hotel in Schaumburg, so I figured he must have something special planned if we were going so far on a work night.

I took extra care with my hair and makeup, and of course I donned the lucky dress.

Me and the Lucky Dress in Long Grove, July 2000

I knew as soon as we arrived that this was going to be the big night. Bill was clearly nervous, and even I was tongue tied (which almost NEVER happens). We browsed through several shops and pretty much retraced our steps from the previous trip. We finally ended up at the gazebo in the center of town, the one where we had kissed and kissed and then laughed ourselves silly as we set up the camera on a timer and took pictures of ourselves smooching.

One of Those Pictures

There wasn't much smooching on this trip because Bill had a terrible cold, and also swarms of mosquitoes were terrorizing us. Plus, there was a pesky family having a picnic, and they seemed blind to the fact that they were encroaching on the most romantic moment of my life!


When it became obvious that the family wasn't going anywhere, Bill turned his back to them and forged on resolutely. He gave me a hug, and I could feel his heart pounding in rhythm with mine. For a moment I felt tempted to deliver him from his nervousness and shout, "Yes! I will marry you!", but I forced myself to keep quiet.


Taking my trembling hand in his own sweaty one, he knelt on one knee and looked into my eyes. He told me loved me very, very much and hoped I would be his wife. I cried a little when I said yes, and then I gave him a little kiss which ended when his nose dripped. He pulled a Kleenex out of his pocket and blew his nose, and then he tried to slip a ring onto my finger. I had to help force it over my knuckle, which was enlarged from decades of knuckle popping.

I tried not to be too eager as I brought the ring up to inspect it. It was gorgeous! It had a white gold band and seven brilliant diamonds. "I LOVE IT!" I breathed, as relief washed over me. Even though I'd been excited about the idea of a surprise proposal, I'd been a little concerned about not having any input on the ring. What if he picked out something ugly? What if the diamond was microscopic, or so big it was tacky (not likely, but you never know)? Or worse yet, what if he didn't buy a ring at all since he knew I wasn't much of a jewelry person? Obviously, I needn't have worried.

We decided to walk over the restaurant then, at which point the picnicking family finally packed up their basket. They'd probably been watching the whole show, but that couldn't spoil my joy. I hooked my right arm through Bill's and held my left hand out in front of me, where it caught the last rays of the setting sun.

We discussed wedding plans over our barbecue. We agreed to get married in about six months, in March. We also decided we wanted a very small "destination" wedding, maybe with just the two of us.

Picture Taken at Same Restaurant on First Long Grove Trip (2000)

While we were eating, we saw an older couple dancing cheek to cheek. "Isn't that romantic!" I exclaimed. "Do you think we'll still be in love at that age?"

"Probably," Bill replied mildly.

For all we knew, the couple could be on their first date, but of course I imagined a whole 50-year marriage in my head.

It's been seven years now, and we're still in love. But I never had another week like that one.

November 7, 2002--Night We Announced Our Engagement

WHAT'S YOUR PROPOSAL STORY? I'D LOVE TO HEAR IT.

When Will We Make Our Nest?

It's been so long that you've probably forgotten the rest of our love story, but here's the next chapter....

When Bill and I started dating, long before we made a serious commitment, I informed him that I'd really love an old-fashioned proposal if I ever got married again. I didn't want to pick out a ring together, go house shopping together, or even talk about a wedding. Instead, I envisioned a proposal that was a dramatic surprise.

The idea seemed wildly romantic at the time, but I'd forgotten one thing: I really, really hate to wait. And I despise uncertainty. You can imagine what happened. Bill moved down, and we enjoyed a normal dating relationship for a change. But six months passed, and then a year, and still we were just dating. I began to wonder just what was the holdup. How long did it take to figure out whether you wanted to spend your life with a person?

It took all my resolve, but I fought the urge to bring up marriage; I wanted to follow my own rules, after all. Just when my impatience was really mounting, I thought I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

It was December of 2001, and Bill and I were flying up to Vancouver together before Christmas. We were about halfway through the four-hour flight, and I'd dozed off, nestled under Bill's sheltering arm. I woke with a start when the beverage cart came through, and then I stared through bleary eyes at my pretzels and Diet Coke.

Just as I lifted the cup to my lips, Bill said, "So when do you think we might get married?"

I choked on my drink. (I mean, I literally choked. I used to see that in movies and think it was just for dramatic effect, but now I knew that shock could do that to you.) As soon as I regained my power of speech, I sputtered, "Why? Is this a proposal?" I fought to keep my tone casual, but my heart was hammering against my ribs.

"No," he answered. "I just wondered what you thought."

"I don't know, maybe in the summer? What do you think?"

He wouldn't say what he thought, just said he wanted to "feel me out."

I was all nerves for the rest of the flight, but Bill was maddeningly calm.

I half expected a diamond for Christmas, but there was no proposal. I was torn between relief and disappointment--relieved because I feared another failed marriage, but disappointed nonetheless.



Just knowing that Bill was thinking of marriage helped ease the wait, but it also intensified the anticipation. With each holiday or special occasion, I geared up for the big moment. Valentines Day came and went, and my birthday was looming.

My birthday would really be the perfect setting. Both of us were traveling to Birmingham, Alabama, for training on a new software application. For a week, we'd be eating fancy dinners on the company dime, doing a bit of sightseeing in a beautiful locale, and of course doing a little work, too. For good luck, I packed the blue sundress I'd worn on our first date in Chicago.


We had a lovely steak dinner on my birthday, with some conversation that was mostly enjoyable, though my palms were clammy and my hands were shaky. When we headed back to the hotel, however, my ring finger was still bare.

That Saturday, we went canoeing on a deep blue lake, and then we went on a nature walk through the thick, lush woods that surrounded it. We enjoyed a picnic in the sun--and went back to the hotel with sunburns. Still, there was no ring.

On our last day there, we visited an art museum. While we sat outside waiting for the museum to open, Bill pointed out a bird building a nest. I took a deep breath and said, rather plaintively, "I wonder when we'll make our nest."

He replied, "I thought we were already building a nest."

"Yes, but when will we be moving into the nest? Summer? Fall? Winter?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise," Bill answered. Then he said he'd have to wait six more months now so that the proposal could be unexpected. Argh!!!

More Waiting
Several more months passed, and I continued to wonder about our future. I poured out my frustrations in my journal:

Monday 6/17/02
I've been feeling a little insecure again. I'm wondering when he'll propose and when we'll get married. The summer is HERE, and we're not even engaged yet. I feel a little rejected. I don't know why he's waiting so long.

If he doesn't feel ready, then I don't want him to rush. I just don't like this not knowing. Help me be patient, Lord.... I want your will for my life. I surrender my future into your hands. Help me leave it there. I'm tired of trying to figure it out....

Tuesday 7/16/02
I want to be that sort of wife, Lord [the virtuous woman, from Psalm 31]. Please prepare me for the future. I put my hopes and doubts in your hands. Let your will be done concerning my prospective marriage, and let it be done in your perfect time. Help me to learn and grow and just enjoy this process....

Thursday 9/5/02
I feel frustrated because I hate not knowing. I guess I can wait another year to get married; I just wish I could KNOW how long the wait is. I think the Lord is teaching me something in this. It feels like the same lesson I was learning from waiting for the work Visa. I need to dig out my old journal and reread the verses God gave me then.

Here they are...

• Proverbs 3:5-6: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight."
• Isaiah 26:3-4: "You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord is the Rock eternal."
• Romans 15:13: "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."

Thank you, Lord, for these verses! Help me learn the lesson. I put my trust and my hope in you. You are my hope, my peace, my joy. Let your will be done in my life. Thank you for your love and mercy!

I could have been frustrated that God was having to teach me the same lesson all over again, but instead I chose to be thankful. Just as had happened with the Visa the year before, once I'd learned the lesson, God gave me the desire of my heart. But that's another story.

Why We Love Snails

On Labor Day, instead of resting from his labors, Bill decided to tackle a giant project: cleaning out our garage, which was so full of crap that there was just a narrow, circuitous path to the one working garage door. Now, he didn't ask for my help with this task, and I didn't offer. We both know that organization is not my forte; in fact, my presence would only hinder his efforts since I have a habit of exclaiming, "Oh! Is that where that was? Cool!" whenever he puts something in the discard pile.

I thought it was a peculiar way to spend a perfectly good holiday, but Bill seemed excited about it, so I left him to it. Little did I know that he would find a wonderful treasure hidden in all that junk.

Bill almost carried my old iMac out to the curb, but thankfully Ethan spotted it and said, "Oh! Is that where that was? Cool!"

"There's no reason to keep it," Bill argued feebly. "No one has used it in at least two years."

Me, My Niece Savannah, and the iMac Back When it Was Useful

I hurried over to put in my two cents. "That could be worth some money someday."

"When? Why would anyone want to pay anything for this old thing?"

"Don't you realize that that was the FIRST iMac? Byron and I waited in line early in the morning to buy it on the day it was released. I'm sure there are Mac geeks out there who would love to have this. It's so retro."

"I dare you to put it on Craigslist and see what you can get for it," Bill challenged.

"My dad wants it," Ethan interjected.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Because he was talking about it just last week. He said he wished he would have kept the iMac instead of you."

"I let him pick whichever computer he wanted," I said, only a bit defensively. "The other computer was better and faster."

"But this one just looks cool. Can Dad have it?"

"Sure," I said.

Bill warned that we'd have to turn it on and make sure it still worked, and then I'd have to retrieve any data I might want before wiping the hard drive clean. "And I don't want it sitting in the TV room for weeks," he added.

"Oh, I'll take care of it right away," I promised.

It was only after several days of Ethan's nagging that we drug the somewhat portable computer out of the garage and up to the TV room. We set it up on the floor and plugged it in, and in moments we heard the harmonious chord of the "happy Mac" start-up tone.

I found multiple spreadsheets I'd designed for the Chevron convenience store ten years ago, resumes for myself and several family members and friends, and... a bunch of letters to my grandma!

The kids' bedtime routines were forgotten as I sat cross-legged on the floor, lost in decade-old chronicles of my old life, right around the time of my divorce. This was a priceless find! Back then, I hadn't started journaling yet, so I had thought these detailed memories were lost forever.

By far, the best thing about the letters was what I wrote about Ethan. Of course, I had written about the dinosaur story and about Ethan's fascination with cows and chickens. But there were other stories I'd completely forgotten....

Grandma and I, July 2000

Letter to Grandma, 11/15/99 (Age 2)
Ethan has matured so much in the last six months, and I am very proud of him. He's about 2-1/2 now. He knows the whole alphabet and can sing it all by himself. He can count from one to ten (although he usually forgets five and six, for some reason). He also loves to sing and has memorized many songs from his Barney and Veggie Tales videos.... The most important thing about Ethan, though, is his sweet disposition. He is very lovable and mostly obedient--at least as obedient as a 2-year-old can be expected to be. Hopefully we will be able to visit soon so you can see Ethan for yourself. Physically, he is still a little small, but he is no longer considered abnormal on the growth chart.

Ethan, Age 3

Letter to Grandma, 2/4/01 (Age 4)
I am really looking forward to seeing you again, and so is Ethan. We were watching an old video tonight of a visit to Indiana, and he recognized you and Grandpa and asked when we could go to your house again. I am amazed at his memory. I don't think he got it from me.

Thought I would close with a funny anecdote about Ethan--at least I thought it was funny, but maybe I have a crude sense of humor. Anyway, the other day we saw a picture of a snail. Ethan said, "Mom, I like snails." When I asked him why, he said, "Snails don't poop on you."

"Oh" was all I could think of to say.

He went on to explain, "That's because they don't have bottoms." I hated to laugh as he was quite serious, but I just had to. He's such a funny kid.

Ethan, Age 3.5

Letter to Grandma, 2/28/02 (Age 4)
Bill built Ethan a large, low table for his Thomas the Train set. Ethan loves it, but my only complaint is that now he won't pay attention when I read his bedtime stories. He plays with the train and murmurs to himself. He says things like "Watch this" or "This is gonna be cool." But he's just talking to himself. I think it's so cute.

He says lots of cute things still, and he's very sharp. Last week he said he wants a baby sister. I told him I'm not married so I can't have a baby now. He tilted his head to one side and said, "Maybe Bill could marry you. Then we could have a baby." And Bill was standing right there! We both tried not to laugh because Ethan was being very serious.

He also asked why Daddy can't come live with us. He said that I couldn't live with Daddy because Gina lives there. But I live alone, so why can't Daddy sleep at our house? I don't know quite how to answer questions like that....

Ethan, Age 4

Letter to Grandma, 5/25/02 (Age 5)
He turned five in April and is getting so mature. I might have mentioned on the phone that he learned to ride his bike without training wheels last weekend. He worked at it all weekend until he could start the bike off on his own. I was so proud that he was persistent like that. He was proud of himself, also; he was telling everyone about it--even perfect strangers at the store!

Ethan is learning to write and trying to learn to read, and I think he's doing very well. He's sending you some pictures. I think there will probably be dinosaurs. I'll let him decide....We play games pretty often, and he almost always wins. I don't know why that is. I don't even have to let him win! He gets so tickled when he wins, but he's learning to be a gracious loser as well.

Ethan's favorite games are the ones he makes up himself. His very favorite game is one he named "Why's This Couch Moving?". Here's how you play: Ethan, Bill , Mommy, or a combination thereof hide under the couch cushions. Then the remaining party(s) make a big production of sitting or lying on the cushions, which of course begin to move up and down mysteriously. The people on the couch must ask, "Why is this couch moving?" until there are audible sounds of laughter under the cushions. Then the cushions are thrown onto the floor, and everyone is surprised to find Ethan (or whoever) hiding there. The game gets a little tiresome for the adults, but Ethan never tires of it. We play several times a week, usually three or four times in a row.


So, what happened to the iMac? What do you think? It's still sitting on the floor in the TV room, of course.

I've Been Tagged

I've been tagged by Kristi at Trenton, Kristi, & Kendall. Here's how to play:

1.) Go to your 6th picture folder

2.) Attach the 6th picture in that folder

3.) Tag 5 more friends



This picture was taken on November 7, 2002, on my dad's 72nd birthday. Ethan was 5 and in Kindergarten. We all gathered in my parents' small dining room and had cake and, of course, homemade ice cream. I most likely ate three bowls and then had agonizing indigestion that kept me up half the night.

When I saw this picture, I knew by the outfit I was wearing that this was the occasion when Bill and I announced our engagement. Isn't it funny how women seem to associate events (especially happy ones) with the clothes they were wearing? I can tell you the outfit I was wearing when I met Bill, when we had our first date, and on the evening he proposed.

At Dad's party, we decided to keep our surprise until the end of the evening so we wouldn't take the focus off his birthday. It was so exciting to keep such a delicious secret all evening. I kept my ring turned backward, with the diamond against my palm.

I don't remember exactly what we said, but I'm sure we both had bright red faces. The whole family cheered when we shared the news because everyone else had fallen in love with Bill as well. I beamed as everyone clustered around to admire the ring.

It was a happy, happy day!

Now it's my turn...
Well, I don't have many friends who blog yet (at least not many whom I know well), and one of them is the person who tagged me. So I guess I'll just tag four:

Mindy at Bella Inizio
Jennifer at Matlock Family Blog
Jenny at Keep Listening
Ariel at My World

Are You Sure You Have the Right Girl?

In June of 2002, I found my first scripture memory passage. I thought I would share the story, the passage, and the ways I applied it to my life while I was memorizing it...

The Story
When I went through my divorce in 2000, it really shattered my self image. The guilt and disappointment and shame was crushing. I'd done some things during my first marriage that made me feel like I could never hold my head up again, and no matter how hard I tried (or cried), I just couldn't forgive myself.

Starting in 2001, I went to several group counseling weekends in a program called The Road Adventure. Slowly, slowly, I began to forgive myself and believe that I was worthy of God's love. I attended my last session of the The Road on the weekend of June 21, 2002. At that point, I was mired in my perceived inadequacies as a single mother. In fact, I was so caught up in worrying that Ethan would be scarred for life that I could scarcely get anything out of the session.

There was a young man, probably around 20 years old, in my small group. He was a recovering drug addict, and he wanted a fresh start. He became a Christian during that weekend session, and I got to pray with him and encourage him.

At the end of the session, he came up to me and nervously announced that he had something he had to tell me. "My grandmother has this cross stitch hanging in her kitchen," he began, with halting speech. Where could he possibly be going with this?

"It's about that woman in Proverbs. You know? The virtuous woman? Well, you remind me of that woman. I think you are a virtuous woman."

Immediately, tears started streaming. He looked alarmed. "Did I say the wrong thing?"

"No," I choked out. "You can't imagine how much I needed to hear that!"

I have no doubt that God prompted that young man to take a risk and tell a virtual stranger something so intimate. I wanted so much for his words to be true. I longed to be a virtuous woman, to become a Godly wife and mother. My dear friend Jenny had been encouraging me to start memorizing scripture, and now I had my first passage. I memorized it in the New International Version, which refers to this paragon of a woman as "the wife of noble character." But I will always think of her as "the virtuous woman" (as she is called in the King James translation) because of the way God directed me to the passage.

The Passage
Here it is, along with excerpts from my journal. Proverbs 31:10-31:

10 A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies.

11 Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.

12 She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life.

13 She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands.

14 She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar.

15 She gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family
and portions for her servant girls.

16 She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.

17 She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks.

18 She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night.

19 In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers.

20 She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.

21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet.

22 She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple.

23 Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.

24 She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes.

25 She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.

26 She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

27 She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.

28 Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:

29 "Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all."

30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

31 Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

My Response

Monday 7/8/02: From this passage I learned that I am valuable, good for Ethan. I am a hard worker who can make wise choices and work efficiently. I am successful in business and am not afraid to take risks. I am not a wimp! I am prepared for anything, day or night. I have compassion for those less fortunate, and I am generous with what God has given me.

Opening my arms to the poor means I must welcome and love the needy. Instead of waiting for them to ask for help, I will reach out to them. I will need to open my eyes before I can open my arms. Lord, I need your help with that. Help me see the needs around me: emotional, physical, and financial.

Thursday 7/11/02: The virtuous woman "has no fear for her household when it snows, for all of them are clothed in scarlet." As a virtuous woman, I take care of Ethan well. I am prepared for difficult situations. I keep him well groomed.

Monday 7/15/02: The virtuous woman "makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple." This tells me it is good to appreciate beauty and to do all I can to make my surroundings lovely. It is also fitting to take care with my clothing and appearance.

Thank you, Lord, for the blessings you've given me. Thank you for the means to buy the new furniture and decorate my room so beautifully.

Tuesday 7/16/02: The virtuous woman's "husband is respected at the city gate..." I guess this means that the virtuous woman is a support to her husband and contributes to his success. Others see her virtue, and her husband is respected for that.

I want to become that sort of wife, Lord. Please prepare me for the future. I put my dreams and hopes and doubts in your hands. Let your will be done concerning my prospective marriage, and let it be done in your perfect time.

Wednesday 7/17/02: The virtuous woman "makes linen garments and sells them..." Hmm... I guess that means I am successful financially. It means I do quality work that is valued by others. Through God, I can provide for my household.

Lord, I want to thank you for blessing me so richly. I don't have lots of money, but I always have enough. You meet every need. I know that my success at work is directly related to you.

Thursday 7/18/02: The virtuous woman "is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come." I love that one! I am a strong woman, deserving of respect. I am free of anxiety and assured of my future. I am full of laughter, not worry!

Thank you, Lord, for these wonderful qualities. Thank you for making me strong in my weakness. Thank you for giving me laughter.


Six Years Later
It took me many months to memorize those 21 verses, and my heart was changed in the process. Of course I will never attain the perfection described in Proverbs 31, but I continually strive for virtue in my marriage and my parenting. When I feel too tired to drag myself out of bed for my quiet time, I remind myself that the virtuous woman gets up while it's still dark. When I feel helpless to guide Ethan in a difficult situation, I remember that the virtuous woman speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. And when I ask God to give me the words, that verse is true!