Happy 40th Anniversary to Us!!

I first laid eyes on Steve Pearson in the pastor's study of Oak Park Baptist Church in Decatur, AL during the Christmas holidays of 1968. Baptist churches back then used to have a tradition called "Student Night at Christmas," in which all of the college students got to talk about life at their various schools and, hopefully, about their involvement in churches and Baptist Student Union on campus. I was home from Samford University, Steve was in from Auburn, and there were others, but not as far as I was concerned once I saw Steve. I made a beeline for my Mom after the service to see if she'd go along with me inviting the other college students to our house for a "fellowship." Always one for a party, she agreed and headed to the store for food while I hurried home to welcome guests. Several came in and I tried to make small talk while I was really waiting for that handsome dark-haired guy with the great smile. He came all right . . . . WITH HIS FIANCEE!!!!! Okay. So their engagement wasn't official. She didn't have a ring or anything, and they hadn't set a date, but still, my feathers were pretty droopy during that particular fellowship.

Much to my dismay (yeah, right), their engagement didn't last too much longer, and they went their separate ways. In the following year and a half, Steve and I saw each other occasionally and "hung out" a few times, but there didn't seem to be any real chemistry, and we both had more interesting relationships going on at our separate schools. Without cell phones or e-mail, times were just different in terms of keeping in touch. We would send occasional cards or notes, but calling was MUCH too expensive, so we just saw each other during various school breaks.

That all changed in August of 1970. We had both broken up with people we'd been dating for awhile, and one night we were both at Wednesday night prayer meeting at the same time. He walked me home (only a block or so away) and asked me out for the following weekend. Suddenly, there was chemistry where there hadn't been any before. :) We spent a lot of time together for a couple of weeks, and then it was time for me to get back to Samford (where I was majoring in piano performance) and for Steve to get back to Auburn (where he was in veterinary school). Somehow, we FOUND ways to communicate from that point on. Basically, our courtship was a long-distance one. He drove to Birmingham a few times, and I found friends who would let him spend the night in the boys' dorm, and I found rides to Auburn and girls I could stay with there. That's just the way you did things back then.

The weekend before Thanksgiving he came to Samford so I could take him to dinner for his 23rd birthday. That night he got on his knees in the lobby of Vail Hall and asked me to marry him. He actually wanted us to get married at Christmas, but I persuaded him for us to wait until Spring Break so we could maybe put together a nice wedding. He "had the talk" with my Dad during Thanksgiving, and we picked out my ring a week or so later. I withdrew from my beloved Samford at the end of that semester and made all of the arrangements to start at Auburn for the spring quarter.
The above picture appeared in the Decatur Daily about a week before our wedding. Mrs. Mildred Jacobs hosted the tea, and my mother and Steve's mom were standing beside me.

While Steve was slaving away with a rough quarter of school, I was enjoying showers and parties and opening wedding gifts. I was also finding ways to have a big wedding on a shoestring. My Dad contributed $500 to the cause. Well, after all, he'd been paying for my tuition, and my brother was about to start college. Again, times were different in 1971.

One of my mother's friends loaned me her wedding dress, and we had printed rather than engraved invitations. In the ceremony, we had one large flower arrangement and then my brother took it immediately to the reception to do double-duty there. Those are just some of the money-saving measures I remember. It didn't matter. There were close to 400 people who came on that Saturday night at 8:00 p.m. on March 20, 1971, and we got just as married as we would have if we'd spent $5000 or $50,000.


Look at that man of mine. Wasn't he a hunk????

It's really so amazing when I think back to those days. A 7-month-long, long-distance courtship and engagement doesn't really assure you that you know everything you need to know about a person, now does it? When we said "I do" to each other that night, we were practically strangers, but the CORE of our marriage was certain, connected and solid. Does that make sense? We both made professions of faith in Christ as children. We grew up in church. Our Dads were both deacons, and our moms were both members of the Women's Missionary Union. We spoke the same "heart language."

Other than spiritually, though, we were polar opposites. I'm an extrovert. He's an introvert. I enjoy spending money. He enjoys saving money. He loves the outdoors. I don't "sweat pretty."

He's an expert fisherman. I enjoy music in almost every form, and Broadway plays, and concerts. In one area, though, he made a "convert" out of me early on. I had never paid much attention to college football. Remember? I went to Samford where we sang "The Doxology" whenever we made a touchdown. The Pearson family had attended Auburn University for several generations. That conversion was easy. I learned to yell "War Eagle" loudly and enthusiastically and relished the year we lived there as a married couple in a 10' by 50' trailer on Wire Road, not far from the Vet School.
On our first anniversary (see me with the wedding cake topper above) we had both finished our college courses. Steve was interning at a vet hospital in Huntsville, and I was teaching music for $400 a month. We lived in a small, furnished, duplex apartment in a rather seedy side of town, but the bliss was still very much on our faces, and we knew we had nowhere to go but UP!!!!

We've had several more deluxe anniversaries since that first one. Number 12 was in Honolulu. Number 25 was in Maui. For Number 30 we were snowmobiling in the Cascade Mountains, and for Number 35 we were in a rain forest resort in Ecuador. This year we're going to Key West for a few days of warm weather, relaxation and fresh seafood.

I'm very excited to be celebrating 40 years with this amazing man. There are some particularly remarkable attributes of his that I'd like to share with you.

1) Steve is a committed follower of Christ and spends time daily in prayer and Bible reading. The children and I have reaped blessings untold as a result.

2) Steve has always given me security and stability because I knew he would do whatever it took to provide what the children and I needed. In the early days of starting his vet practice in Hartselle, I knew in my heart that he would take a second job sacking groceries if there wasn't enough business through the clinic.

3) Not for a single minute in these 40 years have I ever had to doubt his love for me, or his faithfulness to me and to our marriage. What a precious gift that has been and continues to be. I have no doubt that he has read the Book of Proverbs at least 100 times in his life, and I have personally benefited from his commitment to the principles in Proverb 5:15-18:

Drink water from your own cistern, and fresh water from your own well.

Should your springs be dispersed abroad, streams of water in the streets?

Let them be yours alone, and not for strangers with you.

Let your fountain be blessed and rejoice in the wife of your youth.

4) Steve Pearson is a model husband, father, and grandfather. I love him with all my heart. I am blessed beyond measure to be his wife, and I would be so happy to spend 40 MORE years with him. Happy Anniversary, hon.

My Tribute to Betty

My dear friend and prayer partner, Betty Parker, died this week at the age of 75. Tonight there will be a visitation with her family, paying our respects, and tomorrow her funeral will be held. I am feeling a profound sense of loss as my mind grasps the reality that she is no longer an e-mail message away.

I've known Betty since 1973, when Steve and I moved to Hartselle, AL. We were members of First Baptist Church together, and Betty became a loyal client at Steve's veterinary hospital. She was short in stature but tall in opinions, humor, and impact. Betty was a single mother to 3 sons, a caregiver for her mother, and a well-respected city clerk when we met. Between Betty and myself, I would describe our relationship in those years as just good, pleasant acquaintances. She gave me an encouraging word on Sunday mornings as she passed the piano bench, and I watched with admiration while her youngest son Lee received many honors through the Royal Ambassador program.

That all changed when Steve and I were appointed as missionaries to Ecuador. We were not even at the same church by that time, but God prompted Betty to adopt us as her special project from that point on. She was one of the earliest additions to our list of prayer supporters, and she faithfully responded to every newsletter we sent out. Just a few months after we arrived on the field, she wrote asking what items we would like to have that couldn't be found in Ecuador. I mentioned some things, and she promptly started collecting them. The box she sent took 51 weeks to finally get to us!!!!! For some reason, the people in customs decided to keep it for MONTHS. Fortunately, the goodies were non-perishables and got to us almost 95% intact. I especially remember how much we loved seeing that cornmeal and those instant mixes emerge from the box. We were so excited! As was true of all the goodies we received from the States, this box, too, was God-timed to provide encouragement and blessing when we needed it the most.

Betty went out of her way to do other things for us, as well. She got the addresses of our children and parents and sent them cards and notes of encouragement. She made phone calls on our behalf, for both business and personal purposes. The remarkable aspect was the fact that most of this time her health issues made it very difficult to get out of her house, but she was performing a valuable ministry using her computer, her telephone and the postal service. There were many days that we logged on to the internet, and there was an e-mail from Betty just saying that God had put us in her heart and on her mind, that she was praying for us, and asking if there was anything she could do. She was a large part of our efforts in South America. Even today, when I am speaking to a missions group about our time in Ecuador, I tell the listeners that if they are unable to go on a short-term or a long-term mission project, then they can "be someone's Betty," and I describe all of the ways that she lifted us up during those years.

Steve did a little long-distance veterinary consulting when Betty had a concern about her dog, but mostly he just reassured her and suggested that she see Dr. Gault and Dr. Crouch, who were well-acquainted with her pet and were just right down the street from her house.

Betty's ministry of prayer and affirmation continued when we moved back to Alabama. Because she was so prompt with her e-mail responses, I found myself often pouring out my heart to her about the children, the grandchildren, my work, issues involving church, or our future, and asking her to pray. I KNOW that she interceded on my behalf. I could feel it. I trusted Betty, and she always gave me great advice and counsel. She was direct and very honest. She never tried to sugarcoat anything. She just gave it to me straight and vowed to pray with me. She had gone from being just an acquaintance. Now she was a dear precious friend.

Betty had a habit of passing on funny or helpful e-mails. The last one I got from her came on January 1, 2011, and was a REAL JUKEBOX, where you could just click on a year and hit songs from that year would pop up and start playing.

The last time I saw Betty was on January 27, 2011, the 25th anniversary of my mother's death. Betty was in Huntsville Hospital, having gone there because of heart problems and difficulty breathing. I knew that a visit would need to be very short because talking would wear her out, and it was very difficult for Betty NOT to talk if there was someone in the room. I took a little plant, a cupcake and pictures of my grandchildren. Just as a dear friend does, she smiled and admired each one. I told her in person that I loved her, and I truly hope she knew I meant it from the bottom of my heart.

Just last week, Frank called me and had me on speakerphone so his Mom could hear me and we could communicate. Again, I told her I loved her and I bragged on what a great job she had done in raising her boys because I had been so impressed with their devotion and loyalty to her in these months. She returned my love and told me to tell Steve hello.

The next call I received from her home number was the message that she had taken a turn for the worst and only had a few hours. Then, Tuesday night was the call I had been expecting but dreading, oh so much, that she had died.

Her son Lee says that she is now in the arms of Jesus, and I have no doubt that is true. While I am looking out my window at the bright sunshine, Betty is seeing for the first time the brightness of God's glory. She's laying crowns at the feet of Jesus, and she's moving into the mansion He prepared just for her. While I am selfishly mourning the loss of Betty in my life, I acknowledge that heaven just became sweeter and more eagerly-anticipated.

Thank you, God, for Betty Parker and for allowing me to know her, to experience her, and to love her.

"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His godly ones." Psalm 116:15

A Valentine's Day from Not So Long Ago

This picture was made on Valentine's Day, 2003. We had been in Ecuador for a little over six weeks, and this was taken inside our first apartment, which, to us, seemed to have been made almost entirely of glass. We were in the city of Cuenca, nestled snuggly in the Andes Mountains. You can see some of those mountains and examples of typical architecture outside the window behind me.
Steve made the pictures because he was very proud of his purchase -- and so was I. If the roses had been purchased alone, they would have cost about a dollar and a half. But, when the balloon, the greenery, the vase and the ribbon were all added, the total came to a whopping $10.00!!! Speaking of roses, if you happened to receive some today, it is highly likely that they came from Ecuador -- a major exporter of roses to the U.S.

Those of you who know me well can look at my face and notice, especially in my eyes, that I was going through colossal upheaval and challenges in those days. Truthfully, I didn't know it showed quite so much until I saw these pictures. Every "known" in the first 52 years of my life had been turned into an "unknown." Unfamiliar cooking methods, unusual foods, language school, transportation, new friends, cultural nuances and traditions -- you name it. Steve was all I had from my "past life."

As I remember those days, I'm also reminded of the dependence upon God that was a part of every waking hour. We had an awesome prayer team that was constantly lifting us up and interceding on our behalf. God demonstrated His love and provision on a steady and constant basis. Every promise that He had made in His Word, and that I claimed in those days, was fulfilled. I can see for myself how frightened I was, but I can also testify to God's grace and mercy. Not many weeks later, the look in my eyes revealed peace and the steadfast "blessed assurance" that I was not alone. God knew where I was, and He had His eye on me just as it was on every sparrow.

Steve and I have now had 40 Valentine's Days together, and for each one, he has been sweet, generous and loving. But, I think for both of us, that this particular February 14th stands out because it represents a time of total dependence on God.

P.S. Two years ago I got to be in the delivery room when our 7th grandchild, Penelope Delia Rodgers, was born on Valentine's Day. She is a blonde, blue-eyed cherub who is a human whirlwind of activity and excitement. Happy Birthday, sweet Penelope!

The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir and Its Ministry to Me

(Part of my collection of Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir CDs)

It has been 15 or 20 years since I first read "Fresh Wind Fresh Fire" by Jim Cymbala and was so impressed about his ministry at the Brooklyn Tabernacle, led by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Shortly afterward, I was introduced to the music of the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir because of some selections of the Minister of Music where I was playing the organ at the time. That led to purchasing my first CD produced by the group, and from then on, I was hooked. Something in the words, the style, the fervency, and the depth of the music touched my soul in a profound way. I realized that I was always drawn to worship when I heard the music, and the tears invariably fell no matter what I was doing because my heart connected so authentically and deeply.


Jim's wife Carol inspires me with her spiritual insight and musical creativity. She has won 5 Dove awards and 6 Grammys, yet she has no formal music training. Even though she can't read music, she has written hundreds of songs, and 51 of them have been recorded on the various albums of the choir. I relate to her in many ways. We are about the same age, and both of us have 3 grown children and several grandchildren. We have also faced dire health diagnoses for ourselves and for loved ones and wayward choices by our children. We have experienced God's faithfulness through years of challenges, and we can both testify that He has never failed us and never taken His hand of love and provision off of us.


But, on the other hand, she and I are vastly different in terms of our musical gifts. I started lessons at age 7 and went on to major in piano performance in college. I can interpret what someone ELSE has written with a fair degree of accuracy and skill, but seeing past the notes brings me to a standstill. Carol Cymbala, on the other hand, took piano lessons for 3 weeks and then stopped because she "didn't want to learn the notes or be confined by the music books." She wanted to play HER way -- by ear. She became extremely proficient in both piano and organ using her special gift for hearing and interpreting what was in her heart.


She began the choir at the Brooklyn Tabernacle with only 9 people, and now it has grown to between 250-300 members. The choir consists of people of all races and backgrounds, from those who were formerly homeless and/or addicted to drugs to professionals in every field you can name. She directs people with music degrees without having a single one of her own. Her conducting style wasn't taught in any of the classes I ever attended, but those 250+ people know exactly what to do and when to do it.


To celebrate my 50th birthday, Steve and I took a wonderful trip to New York City. We had a dizzying "Clipboard of Fun" for the 6 days we were there, but a highlight was taking the subway from Central Park to Brooklyn and attending the 3:00 p.m. service at the Tabernacle on the Sunday we were in the city. The spirit of God was unmistakeably present as soon as we walked in the door. I found myself wiping tears from my cheeks while the choir was just warming up -- for heaven's sakes! Neither of us will ever forget the effect that whole service had on us that afternoon.


Just 2 years later, when we were preparing to go on the mission field, we were taught how important it would be to have worship tools available "in our heart language" while we were living in another culture. So, we bought as many Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir CDs as were available at that time. I remember so often doing housework and walking on the treadmill with those CDs playing, and how the choir always led me to worship and fed me spiritually.


Now, just recently, this group is still ministering to me. I am singing in the choir of the church we have recently joined, the church my mother grew up in. In a few weeks, the amazingly gifted church pianist will be out of town, and I've been asked to substitute for him. The date will be March 6th, what would have been my mother's 81st birthday, so I like thinking that she'd be pleased. But, even more, when I looked on the choir schedule to find out what they would be singing that day, you guessed it -- a song by The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir.


I thank God for the ministry of this wonderful choir and of its director, Carol Cymbala.

If you are a Facebook friend of mine, you have likely noticed the verse that is posted on my profile. Psalm 3:3 "But Thou, O Lord, are a shield for me, My glory and the lifter of my head." When you have a few minutes, go to YouTube to see a stirring performance of this text by the choir -- "Thou, O Lord." www.youtube.com/watch?v=y284YvkYrZo

Mandarin Orange Pretzel Salad -- a new twist on an old favorite

If you love Strawberry Pretzel Salad, then I believe you will enjoy its first cousin, Mandarin Orange Pretzel Salad. The bottom and middle layers are exactly the same, but the final layer uses crushed pineapple, mandarin oranges and orange jello. I think it would be particularly good to serve in the fall when you have all of the pumpkin themes around, or maybe in the summertime when you're serving a fruit plate with some fresh banana bread. But, most especially, it would be good for Auburn tailgate parties, served on blue plates, of course. Steve has suggested that a few blueberries on top would also give a nice touch, but I'll let you decide about that. :)

MANDARIN ORANGE PRETZEL SALAD

First Layer:

Mix 1 1/2 cups of crushed pretzels, 3 tablespoons of sugar and 1 stick of softened butter together and spread into a 9" by 13" Pyrex dish. Bake in a 350-degree oven for 10 minutes.

Let this cool.

Second Layer:

Whip together 8 oz. softened cream cheese, 8 oz. Cool Whip, and 1 cup of confectioner's sugar.

Spread this on the cooled pretzel crust.

Third Layer:

Drain and save the juices from a 15 oz. can of mandarin oranges and a 15 oz. can of crushed pineapple. Add enough water to make 1 1/2 cups and bring this liquid to a boil. Stir in a 6 oz. package of orange jello until it is thoroughly dissolved. Let it cool and then add the drained fruit.

Let this sit on the counter for a little while until it begins to congeal and then spread it over the cream cheese layer. Refrigerate until serving. This will make about 15 servings.

Make it soon and have some friends over to enjoy it with you.

MY MOM -- A Tribute to Her on the 25th Anniversary of Her Death

A mattress can't be both firm and soft, but my Mom could.
A steak can't be both tough and tender, but my Mom could.
"Prissy and smart" might say it a little better, but she was most certainly firm, tough, soft and tender all wrapped into one unique and special lady.
One morning in Ecuador a dear friend commented that she "wished she had grown up in the South." What prompted the remark appeared to be the printed napkins and roses I had on the table for our refreshments during a weekly Bible study. She said that I always "did things in a special way," and that she wished she'd been taught to do that. I felt highly complimented. Now I don't know whether growing up in Alabama had very much to do with it, but I'm SURE that being reared by Mildred Rose Collier was primarily responsible. She was feminine in every cell of her body and was always aware of the ambiance she was creating or in the places she visited. We never had to wonder whether she preferred the chain cafeterias or a sit-down restaurant with tablecloths, music and menus. She loved setting an attractive table and pleasing her guests. She had a beautiful smile and was loved by everyone. She even enjoyed going to the grocery store because she looked forward to visiting with some friends she might run into there. Her hair and nails were always done to perfection, and, even though she died suddenly at the very young age of 55, my youngest daughter who was 7 at the time remembers that "Grandmomma always smelled good."
I like to think that I am my mother's daughter, but I see her traits far clearer in my daughters and now in my five granddaughters, who enjoy pretty dresses, perfume, a touch of blush and sparkly nail polish! We all relish being "prissy" Southern Belles, and from our perspective, "prissy" is a word we like and understand.
My mother was also smart, shrewd, and direct -- a "tough cookie" in a very disarming way. She was competent in the jobs she undertook and was respected for her insight and the ideas she contributed. To my brother, sister, and me, she was our greatest cheerleader, but she also pulled no punches when it came to "speaking the truth in love." We could count on her for honesty and support, but she also fearlessly confronted us (and others) when she felt we weren't following the truths of the Bible. She was a perfect example of a submissive wife who was also a fully-functioning partner with my Dad.
Today is the 25th anniversary of her untimely and unexpected death, and I still miss her. I have wished for her so many times as my children have gotten married, and I would so love to have watched her with my own grandchildren. I'd like to think that by being my own version of "prissy and smart" I'm honoring who and what she was.
Some people probably thought I was too prissy to be on the mission field, but God knew before He called me exactly how He had wired me together, and He chose to use me "just as I am." I believe that it's okay to surround myself with pretty things and to create a lovely, welcoming environment whether I'm in the midst of a Third World country or living beside the Tennessee River. I believe that making myself look appealing and attractive is both a way of honoring my husband AND of being a positive witness for Christianity. I am convinced that God wants to draw from all the aspects of my personality to bring honor and glory to Him.
Queen Esther is a wonderful example of a person who had both outward beauty and inward strength and wisdom which God used to fulfill His purposes. The Bible described her as "lovely and beautiful" (Esther 2:7), but we also read that she was obedient and submissive to Mordecai, her cousin and guardian, and to Hegai, the custodian of the women brought into the king's palace. Subsequently, when the lives of her people the Jews were threatened, she displayed amazing courage and insight in approaching her husband the king and in orchestrating the confrontation with wicked Haman. Esther was a firm/soft, tough/tender woman who was used by God at a crucial point in the history of the News. My mother's similar qualities were used by God in my life, and I pray that her legacy will continue.
I love you, Mom.
I'll see you in Heaven.

Recipe for Key Lime Cake -- which could become your "Hospitality Cake"

The new neighborhood into which Steve and I have moved has a gracious ritual that was eagerly-anticipated and wonderfully-enjoyed when it was our turn. A couple of the neighbors set up a convenient time to come for a visit. They brought with them lots of information and brochures about the in's and out's of this area AND a yummy dessert. We were the happy recipients of a delectable Key Lime Cake.









Since then, I, in turn, have made it for other folks and shared it just this past Saturday with some dear friends. It is not TOO rich, it is very moist, and it has a certain zing to it. So far, everyone to whom I've served it has liked it. Now, the lime jello gives it a green color -- which is what we always associate with lime -- but I learned on a long-ago trip to Key West that actually Key Limes are yellow, rather than green. So, the next time you order Key Lime Pie in a restaurant, you will know it's "the real thing" if it is NOT green. :)









Have you thought about developing a file of easy and delicious recipes that you can share easily, either by taking them to new neighbors or by having folks into your home? I have a lot of thoughts about hospitality. Is it becoming a lost art? How can the lost world know what a Christian home looks like and feels like if they are never invited to come inside one? Maybe this cake could be the "start of something good." :) Enjoy! Share!

KEY LIME CAKE

1 box lemon cake mix

1/2 c. vegetable oil

1 (3-0z) box lime Jell-O

1 c. orange juice

5 eggs

4 T. powdered sugar

1/2 c. Key Lime juice (if you simply can't find it, then regular lime or lemon juice will do)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine cake mix, Jell-O, orange juice, eggs and oil. Beat for about 2 minutes at medium speed. Pour batter into 3 round greased and floured cake pans (or I used a 9" by 13" pyrex dish). Bake for approximately 25 minutes if you make 3 layers or 30 minutes if you use the 9" by 13." While the cake is baking, mix together 4 T. of powdered sugar and the Key Lime juice. Drizzle on the hot cake layers. Cool completely. Ice cake when cooled. Store in the refrigerator.

Icing:

8 oz. cream cheese, softened

1 stick butter, softened

1 box powdered sugar, minus 4 T.

1 t. vanilla

Cream together the cream cheese and butter. Blend in the powdered sugar and vanilla.

"Be hospitable to one another without grumbling." 1 Peter 4:9

(I think that "without grumbling" part is SO funny -- ha!)