Memories from a Past Life

          Today I was reminded of a paragraph I wrote some six years ago in my book Left Behind in A Mega-Church World. In the first chapter of the book, I'm reflecting on a painful ordeal of being a pastor's wife and being kicked out of the little church where my husband was the minister. I compare the experience to that of Jonathan and Sarah Edwards. This is what I wrote:

  As the pastor’s wife, Sarah was caught between her husband and the congregation.  So was I.  I spoke my mind behind closed doors, but in public I was a loyal pastor’s wife. For Sarah, the ongoing ordeal was painful, though the record indicates that she and her husband maintained a close relationship though it all.  Unlike Jonathan Edwards [who was kicked out after 23 years], my husband was relieved of his duties after only three years of ministry.  In his case it was a betrayal of trust—petty theft and an arrest.  It was a disgrace for this little church situated on five corners in small town America, and it was a double disgrace for me, both parishioner and pastor’s wife.  Through my insistence, the pastor preached a properly penitential sermon, but I knew instinctively our days were numbered—and rightly so.                         

My reminder today came when I walked over to welcome a couple who stopped by Carlton Gardens. The woman greeted me by name introduced herself and her husband---Betsy and Terry.  Some 35 years ago they were actively involved in the leadership of the little church I write of and had the unpleasant task of taking a prominent role in doing what was right for the church during a very difficult time. After these decades, it was a wonderful reunion and time of catching up. They are now living in Dallas and were visiting family in Michigan and went out of their way to reconnect with me. What a nice gesture. Life is good.

THE STAGES OF LIFE

We are moving out of our adolescent period into full adulthood by putting our houseboat up for sale. Four years ago when we were young and foolish we made a rash decision and bought a wonderful houseboat located at the beautiful Hardy Dam Marina. We have had some incredibly pleasant times, just the two of us, as well as with family. But with books to write and a shop to operate, we simply don't have time to drive the 45 minutes north to be on the water. (After all, in flood season we are already living on an island. Do we really need a houseboat?) So it is with great sadness on my part and great relief on John's that we are offering it to anyone out there who wants a great deal.  Check out my new blog here or simply google: Hardy Dam Houseboat. This is a glimpse of what we're giving up.

No Friends, No Social Life

John and I get a kick out of the Sally Forth comic strip. She and her husband Ted have no friends. They invite neighbors for barbecues but no one comes. They are at their wits ends to figure out how to make--and keep--friends. It's kind of like John and me. This past week our social life consisted of visiting John's mom at the nursing home and John's second in-laws, Mom and Dad Kraker, at their farm. We had a quick pizza at Riverside Park one evening and then hiked and picked up trash, and on Sunday had dinner with Sarah (John's daughter) and family at their home west of town. Not too many "friends" in that picture, and that's so typical. Nevertheless, life is very good, and John is always saying he can't distinguish between work and play---though work, fun as it is, seems to be about all we do. Writing a book and tending Carlton Gardens keeps us busy at least 12 hours a day. Our favorite time of the day is the half hour before we turn out the light at night. John reads to me. The best book in a long time has been The Dirty Life by Kristen Kimball. It's the memoir of a Harvard grad with a good writing job in New York City who interviews an organic farmer and ends up marrying him. Amazon gives it a full 5 stars with 147 customer reviews. Not bad. She's very honest and open, has an incredible gift with words, and is often hysterically funny.