SPONTANEITY

My husband used to say to me, that I was not very flexible. Now what does that mean? In his mind, I was not willing to change my mindset and come alongside him with something that was his idea. Now, he may have been correct. But maybe not.

I had been to India on several ministry trips. One time our host said to me, "Chris, of all the people who come to India, you are the most flexible.” He also said, “You have changed a lot.” You think? In India, I was not in control. I had to be willing to go with the flow and change my mindset often.

Spontaneity and flexibility are not the same thing. I was going to say impulsivity and spontaneity are not the same thing. I am an impulsive person sometimes. It comes with being a bit ADHD. But spontaneity is something else altogether. Its not me being impulsive. It is me being flexible. Its me coming alongside my husband when he comes in from evening chores around 7 pm on a Friday night in July and saying, “Pack an overnight bag. We are going away for the weekend.”

Okay. This happened once before on our anniversary years ago. Someone anonymously sent us a cash gift with a card simply saying, “God loves you.” The combine had made one round of the oat field when the rain came. No more field work was going to get done that day. We visited a friend. Had a fancy dinner out and checked into a local motel to try out a waterbed before investing in one. We returned at noon the next day just as the combine started the second round of the oat fields. And, yes. We did buy a water bed the following year.

Taking a weekend away from the farm has not been easy over the years. Cows have to be fed and milked twice each day no matter what the weather or what day or time of the year it is. There always had to be someone reliable available to step in.

So that memorable weekend in July we headed to Hershey PA to visit the chocolate factory. It was midnight when we got to Watkins Glen and there were no rooms available. So, he says, “I have an idea.” We slept in the car behind a little old church across the road from a gas station where we were able to freshen up at 6 in the morning. Not the first time we slept in the car on a road trip. 

Memories on a facebook post from 10 years ago:

I was sitting in the dentist office this morning waiting to get my teeth cleaned and the receptionist says I have a phone call. I hung up the phone and said, "I got a date."

So, after a while the girl cleaning my teeth says, "So where did you meet this guy?"

I replied, "I married him 42 years ago".

We went to the market in St Jacob's.

Spontaneity is dropping everything and going on an adventure together. This is so much easier now that we are both retired and do not have cows to milk anymore. 

MOOD

Thoughts from Ken

There are mood builders and mood busters. They can come from anywhere. Anytime. They can be physical, mental or spiritual. 

You are sitting in your favorite lawn chair, watching the sun rise, planning your day, when all of a sudden, a cluster of butterflies ascend to the plants beside you, pausing for awhile. They flit around you. One lands on your hand. How sweet. A sense of well being envelopes you. In contrast, same chair, same day, about 12 hours later, recounting your day, when a swarm of mosquitoes descend on your body. Mood buster - run! 

Let's check out smells. Where we live in Southern Ontario, there are prevailing winds, west winds mostly, but a south east wind is very infrequent, maybe 5-10 days a year, generally followed within 24 hours by rain. But our forefathers may have been onto something when building barns in relationship to their house. A large majority are built south east of the house, therefore, mitigating a constant odor from the cows, horses, pigs, chickens, etc. 

One day, on our farm, I decided to clean out a large box stall. Mission done, large pile outside. A day or 2 later, when it started to heat up - well - just the rottenest small in the world. Of course, the next day was when my wife had a spring garden party take place and guess what? Here comes that south east wind. Contrast that to 24 hours later. Same yard. Its May. Apple blossoms and lilacs blooming. Other flowers contributing - the aroma is euphoric. You just want to stand there and keep taking long breaths and thinking happy thoughts.

Then there are body odors of all kinds, from foot to mouth, male and female, offset by my favorite body wash that my wife likes so much or that man slayer perfume that she uses on special occasions. Tons of more physical things you can think of I’m sure, for mood makers. Facial expressions, life changes, menopause, phone calls (good or bad), relationships, family, jobs, being sleep deprived. 

That brings us to mental things like past memories. Your first date with your sweetheart when you fell madly in love or tragedies that have occurred to all of us and keep coming back to our minds. That's another great M word. What we allow our minds to play back for us or look forward to, will really dictate our mood. The Bible says in Phil 4:8 to think on whatever is good, excellent, worthy of praise. This will help dictate your mood.

Lastly – spiritual influences in our lives can offset moods. The Bible says in John 10:10 that Satan (the deceiver) comes to us to steal, kill and destroy. Steal our joy. Kill any good you may do or desire to do. And destroy relationships, lively hoods, and your well being. That’s a mood buster. So, guard your mood. We haven't always done that well. But we are still learning. Our marriage is still a work in progress. Or rather, we are still a work in progress. 

MENOPAUSE

We survived menopause. Many marriages do not. You cannot stay married for 50 years without passing through this transition time of life. In our mothers’ time, it was not talked about. It was the “silent passage”. How can it be silent when everything inside is screaming in the midst of “the change”?

There is a jingle I have tweaked about the seven dwarfs of menopause. Itchy – bitchy – sleepy – weepy – sweaty – depressed – and I forget the rest. The menopause season is easy peasy for some women and a nightmare for others. Ours was the night mare. For 5 years.

What exactly is menopause? I am glad you asked. Menopause is the word given when a woman no longer has a monthly menses – monthly bleed. So, what’s the nightmare all about?

I started menstruating at 13. I cycled monthly. It was no big deal. No big fuss. Every month for 20 years, except the 3 times of pregnancy. Then at 33, I suddenly experienced abdominal cramps, moodiness, headaches, swollen breasts, to name a few changes. I had no idea what was going on. I discovered pre-menstrual syndrome. I had a text book case. I found a new, female doctor that gave me some education and a simple solution. Get off caffeine. Reduce salt intake. Do something to sweat. Great. I was a 3 pot a day tea drinker and 2 liter bottle a day cola drinker. I quit. I walked around kicking things for a while, but I quit. All those symptoms went away, except the swollen breast. They plagued me for another 20 years.

In my late 40’s I got the itching and bitching and anger and depression and the forgetfulness. It was awful. My poor husband. Anger was our love – or lack of love – language. In that time, we became empty nesters. I was not prepared for no longer mothering our grown children. Both my parents died. I was not prepared for how my father’s death would affect me. We took over the family farm. I was not prepared for the increase of the administrative and financial responsibilities that fell in my lap. I had, on a whim, gone back to school. It gave me an opportunity to learn, which I love, and to write research papers. I wrote a lot of research papers. I chose topics such as depression in middle age women; sleep apnea; para menopause; patterns of anger in my family of origin. I was, after all, studying counseling.

I have come to realize that much of my writing was from a wounded spirit. From the pain inside of hurts and memories that kept me reliving the past. I have received an incredible amount of healing in recent years. Much of this healing has come through writing out my stories; through giving over to God the painful memories; from receiving and giving forgiveness. When God spoke to me that day in the kitchen saying, “If you take your life, how can you tell married couples that I am enough”, there was a paradigm shift in my thinking and then in my feelings and then in my words and actions. I wrote out many of the painful stories in a book project I have entitled Surviving Menopause: One woman’s journey from anger, depression and suicide to peace, joy and purpose.

I became officially post menopausal at the age of 53. That same year I interned at a pregnancy center and shared my faith journey with countless women in unplanned pregnancies. I was invited to go to India to see what God was doing. Was I ready for a new adventure; was I ready for God to begin to shape and change me from the inside out; was I ready to stand before audiences of hundreds and thousands to share my faith and teach about God’s love for women? I guess God thought I was ready, because that is where I ended up. That is another ongoing book project.

My life is an example because God has been my strength and protection. That is why I can never stop praising God. I declare God's glory all day long. Psalm 71:7-8 NLT.

LISTEN

A lot has been written about love language. And knowing the love language of our spouse is a good thing. My husband’s love language is words of affirmation. I spent a lot of years tearing him down and criticizing him for not doing the things I asked him to do. My love language is acts of service. I have given myself in the service of my family for years, but did not feel the love back in that regard. Here I want to talk about listening.

I often told my husband what was going on in my head and recounting things I have been doing or planning to do. I sat in my easy chair. He lay on the couch. I talked. He listened. Then he began to snore. Sometimes I carried on talking, then realized that he was asleep. I would quietly ask, “Are you asleep?” Sometimes he would repeat the last thing I said. Other times, he did not. Lots of times, I would be talking and he just got up and walked out of the room. Or turned on the TV.

Many times I offered creative suggestions or scathingly brilliant ideas about doing something. His response often was, “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard.” Then, a few months later he would implement that very idea and it was successful. He would receive accolades. I would feel hurt. When it was his idea, it was great. It took me a lot of years to realize that he needed time to ponder the idea. Tweak it a bit. Add some details. We had some heated discussions a few times about this.

We came up with an agreeable response. I present my thoughts and ideas. He responds with, “I will take that under consideration.” We are both happy. For him, there was no pressure or expectation. For me, I was heard. During my menopause journey. I cried so often because he was not “hearing” me.

Is hearing different from listening? I think hearing is done with the ears and the head. But listening, really hearing what is said, is done with the heart. What a radical idea. Hearing with the heart. Almost like caring about what the other is saying. 

Ken's thoughts:

The heart emotes a plethora of expressions all ready to be listened to. Some are word expressions. Some physical expressions. Some hand expressions. Years ago, when we used to bale hay onto the wagon, Chris drove the tractor, Ken stacked the bales onto the wagon. We developed hand signals. What gear to go in, four-wheel drive, go, speed up, slow down, stop for broken bale. 

From the tractor, all the signals looked the same to her, until the volume of my voice rose, when all else failed, jumping up and down waving arms frantically. Then she stopped. 

We have eyes to listen to facial expressions, like that certain smile that says everything in my kingdom is okay. The crying, the sobbing, the flirtatious eyes, the darting-threatening eyes saying, if you carry on with that story, you will most probably be sleeping on the couch tonight. The taking your sweetie's hand as you walk down the lane with the kids to catch the school bus, or, that hand in the night, lying in bed when your spouse suddenly rolls to the farthest most edge, giving off the message that says, go back to sleep. 

If we sharpen our listening skills and allow our actions or words that follow to be encouraging and loving, whether after 1 year, 10 years or 50 years, we find ourselves creating a brand new mate, the one we were destined to have in the beginning, all because we learned to listen. So, listen with a purpose to make your husband/wife better, happier and more fulfilled.  

I (Chris) have often said, “If you love me, don’t bring me stuff. Do the dishes or bring me chocolate. I get a lot of chocolate for birthdays and Christmas. My family heard. But I still have to do the dishes.

My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry (James 1:19 NIV).

 

KNOW

He pulled up the stool to sit close to me. Very close.

“I love you.” He said softly.

“I love you too.” I responded just as the video call was ringing for a meeting with my accountability partners.

He said, “No. I really love you and am looking forward to knowing you better.” He quietly walked away as my meeting began.

I kind of like that. After 50+ years of marriage getting to know each other better. What a crazy idea.

Ken surprised me two years ago when he quietly announced that he was going to sell all the cows. Six weeks later, they were all sold and gone. Retirement began. The first thing that changed was that he no longer left the house at 5 am to do the farm chores that he had been doing morning and night since he finished high school a year before we got married. Chores took 2-3 hours every morning and every evening, 365 days a year.  The cows had to be fed and milked. The heifers and calves had to be fed. The barn had to be cleaned out, and that's not including all the other 9-5 work a farmer does.  

Now he started staying in bed until after 7. This totally disrupted my morning routine. I had been getting up soon after he left the house to write. I had a desk set up in our bedroom. A lamp. A kettle. But he was there. Every morning. Within reach. And he reached and touched and distracted me. And he talked. I moved my books to another room.

We are getting to know each other after 50 years of marriage, to know who we are and who we have become. Who God is transforming us to be. More in God’s image. Not the image he thinks I should be. Not the image I think he should be. It is not the same hormonal passion of the early years. It is deeper. More intimate. A knowing.

And suddenly, we are going to bed at the same time. And talking. To each other. It is kind of nice. A bit different than what we had been used to. But I like it. We are no longer talking about daily farm things. We are talking about what is this life of retirement going to look like now that he is retired. I milked cows alongside him for 18 years until I could no longer get through two hours of chores without crying from the pain in my back, for I have lived with chronic back pain my entire adult life. So he hired 14 people to replace me. Well, not all of them worked at the same time.

We are talking of investing the money from the sale of the cows and quota. We decided to open Registered Retirement Savings Plans with different financial institutions. Just for fun to see how they would compare or differ in years to come. We got a hot tub and put in a patio last year and a SonRoom this year. 

Knowing someone needs some form of communication, lots of listening and then responding and gauging the reactions along the way. We've found that, if the intent of our heart is always to encourage and build each other up, then our shared knowing can become great building blocks to a stronger, lasting marriage. And, we are talking as we write and edit these blog posts. How fun is that? 

Is there any encouragement from belonging to Christ? Any comfort in his love? Any fellowship together in the Spirit? Are your hearts tender and compassionate? Then make me truly happy by agreeing whole heartedly with each other, loving one another, and working together with one mind and purpose. Don't be selfish; don't try to impress others. Be humble, thinking of others as better than yourself. Don't look out only for your own interests, but take an interest in others, too (Phil 2:1-4 NLT).

 . 

JUNK

My mother was an unorganized hoarder. My mother-in-law was an organized hoarder. I am a hoarder. My husband is a hoarder in denial. I am an impulse shopper. I collect clutter like rotting fruit collects flies.

We live in a large old farm house. We have barns and sheds filled with stuff. When we got married 50 years ago, Ken's parents built a new house on the farm and moved out with some of the essentials, but left everything else behind. There were rooms filled with antique furniture, broken chairs, has-been wood stoves, boxes of stuff, and a woodshed filled with far more than wood.

As a new 19-year-old bride, I had no idea what to do. Ken’s perspective was that we did not need to buy any furniture. There was lots as well as old appliances. The best one was a big chest freezer full of food. The worst was an old wringer washing machine and rinse tub that had to be dragged  in from the back kitchen and filled with a bucket and dragged outside to empty. Our mattress had springs sticking out of it. I did not stand a chance.

I chose to be a stay at home wife and mother. I’ve always thought we made do without a lot, but that was money. We certainly had a lot of stuff. Where my mother cleaned house when company was coming, my mother-in-law  systematically kept her house clean by doing dishes after every meal and sweeping the floor every day right after breakfast. It was easier when she moved out of the old farm house. After all, as a young bride of 19, she too moved into this old farm house with its rooms filled with the same old beds and dressers and broken chairs. She bought all new appliances for her new house leaving the old behind.

Ten years after we were married, we began some house renovations by dry walling and insulating one room at a time. I bought new mattresses for all the beds and a new bed for us. Books have always been a weakness for me. I had boxes and boxes of books without bookshelves to hold them. Later, I went back to school and bought hundreds more books. By now, I had several large bookcases to hold them. Psychology books. Theology books. History books.

Then I took up quilting seriously, so I have a whole library of quilting books and patterns. Let’s not talk about quilt fabric. Okay. Let’s talk about quilt fabric. As I write this I am in the midst of decluttering my fabric hoard. I counted at least 50 medium project boxes and 30 large totes filled with projects and patterns, as well as batting, wide backings, sewing machines, notions, tables, lamps. Many bags of fabric. I had a plan for every piece of fabric I bought. I presently have 47 unfinished quilts. I am getting help to bag up much of this to donate to a couple of quilt guilds to use for charity quilts. I am even donating many ufos (unfinished fabric objects). I cannot take it with me when I die and my children do not want it.

But the problem comes down to – what is my attitude about all this stuff? What void am I trying to fill? I have made many quilts as gifts. But now I am making reproduction quilts for me.

Often when cleaning up, I don’t know what to do with the stuff, so it has gone into a box and put in another room to deal with later. Eventually, I had several rooms filled with boxes of stuff and hampers filled with laundry.

When our son moved back home with his 3 children, we made a huge purge of furniture and stuff. A lot of stuff. But he brought most of the stuff from his house to fill the gaps. Living room furniture, whole bedrooms, and toys and clothes. A lot went onto storage in the garage and lots here. So I purge again.

Then, during covid, our daughter and her family moved in for 4 months. So more purging. It is a good thing we have 6 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. And a big heated trailer outside. And 2 very large chest freezers and 2 refrigerators. Then we had to buy a new washing machine. And we put a toilet into a hall closet. But then had to deal with all the stuff that was removed. 

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth where moths and vermin destroy, where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matt 19-21 NIV)

 

ILLNESS

We were having a family discussion about being sick and how everyone behaved when they were the sick ones. Both our kids and all their kids were here during spring break one year, and everyone but me had a stomach/bowel thing. So, we were discussing  how each of us deal with sickness. I said, "No one looks after me or brings me drinks or pampers me when I am sick." They all responded with, "That's because you're always so miserable and grumpy when you're sick." It was true. I am miserable and grumpy. But to my defense, I am longing for someone to pamper me and tuck me in with some kindness. And in times of great stress, the pain in my back was so great that I barely could crawl into my bed in tears. I once asked if someone could tuck Gramma into bed. Our six year old granddaughter came up, tucked me in, lay beside me for snuggles and sang to me. It made me cry.

Ken has a low tolerance of pain. He seldom misses a day of work, but goes out to do the chores anyway, then back into bed to get better. He was prone to upper respiratory infections and had his tonsils out at the age of 29. He is quite the baby and expects me to bring him his medicine, and a drink, and a water bottle and extra blankets and for goodness sake, don't flirt with him, but I always did. It made him laugh because he knew I was not serious and he had no intention of responding. I did not tell the kids all that. But laugher can be good medicine, even if it hurts. 

As a mother and grandmother, I catered to all the children, took them to doctors, bought the medicine and popsicles, tucked them in, sang them songs, cleaned up the vomit. Yet, one morning about 30 years ago, when I got up early to go to the barn to milk the cows, I had a sudden, unexpected episode of vertigo, fell down, and threw up. I had asked each of my teenaged children to go to the barn in my place. It was a school day. I was told I had to clean up the mess myself since I missed the toilet which was 3 rooms away downstairs. 

As we stay married for more than 50 years, we need to know how we respond to regular sickness and how our spouse responds also. After all, we did vow to love, honor, cherish and be faithful for richer, poorer, in sickness and in health, as long as we both shall live. 

Long term illness has a whole different way of changing our lives. I had lived with chronic back pain most of my adult life. I milked cows alongside my husband for 18 of those years with constant pain in my groin. Medication helped to a point. I eventually retired from working in the barn and he hired several people to take my place. Recently, he came begging me to forgive him for his insensitive attitude towards this. He had pulled a groin muscle and came to the realization of what I had been dealing with all those years. Interesting that when I retired, that pain retired also. 

A happy heart is good medicine, but low spirits sap one's strength (Prov 17:22 CIB).