I was eighteen and he was twenty when we met. In the summer of 1971 at San Bernardino Valley College, I decided to take some courses. It was the week after the the Fourth of July because I had spent the weekend with friends at the beach and suffered the worst sunburn. My face had blotches of pealing skin, and I looked awful. When Mike passed me in hall, he did a double take and said , Hey, I know you!” I did not feel very attractive and just said, “Yeah, you dated my sister.”

When I got home that day the phone rang, and it was Mike. I told him my sister was married and that I had a boyfriend who at the time  was away in Mexico as an exchange student.

Mike really was not a stranger because when my sister Jo and he dated, I tagged along. My sister was beautiful and the desire of many male suitors, but she was on the shy side. She invited me on these dates to break the ice. I realize this sounds odd, but it was completely innocent and we had fun. My sister started dating other guys and we lost track of Mike.

Mike had recently returned from a long trip in Europe traveling and “finding himself,” when we met in the summer of 1971. He was fun to talk to and we shared an attraction at many levels. I felt like I was cheating on my boyfriend and refused to go out with Mike. He made it very difficult to say no, because he came to my place of work and ordered way too much fast food in order to get my attention. I finally agreed to go on a casual date and it was then that he had me write a Dear John letter to my boyfriend.

On our first date he wanted me to see the movie “Patton.” I had no idea what this movie was about, but it was no longer playing in the local  movie theaters. The only place it was showing was at a drive-in in Palm Springs, which was a 45 minute drive. I told Mike that I was not a drive-in type of girl, and it was out of the question. Mike convinced  me that this movie was worth it. The first thing that I learned about my husband is that his cars are impeccable, clean is an understatement. Mike went to get refreshments and I ordered an orange soda. I told Mike that I could balance the drink with one finger. Well, turns out that I could not balance the drink and it spilled all over the car, making  a sticky orange mess; that ended the date.

When my brothers were home it was nearly impossible to date. They were overprotective and always convinced our mother that I was up to no good. Once Mike had tickets to an Elton John concert at the Hollywood Bowl, but my brothers told my mother that a decent girl does not go all the way to LA for a concert. Mike came to pick me up only to have the door slammed at his face. Mike took his sister Norma to the concert instead.

Mike did not give up on me, We were being raised by a single mom, and that meant that all three of our brothers took the role of our father. They no longer lived with us, but when they visited they controlled our social life.

By the time November rolled around we were engaged, and on January 25, 1972, we were married at the home of one of  Mike’s friends. I wore the dress my mother had given me for Christmas, and though my family was not present and I was scared to death, I knew that it was the right decision.

Years later when our daughter Sonja was in high school, she wanted to dress like a hippie for Halloween. I had saved my purple wedding dress, and when Sonja pulled it out, she said that the dress would be perfect. I grabbed the dress from her and yelled,”NO! You can’t wear this dress!” Sonja looked puzzled and responded, “Wow, what’s wrong with you? You act as if were your wedding dress!” I started to laugh and said, “It is my wedding dress!” Sonja still laughs about this incident.

Our wedding was not at a church, but a Christian pastor officiated the nuptials, and though I did recognized the voice of God, I knew this union was of Him. Years later our marriage was blessed by Father Pat at St. Paul Outside-the-Walls in Rome, Italy. You can read story of our renewing our wedding vows in the Blog dated 1/20/16 “I Do.”

Patton is still one of Mike’s favorite movies, along with Braveheart. I recognized the music, and when I walk into the family room, Mike has the sound full blast., with a smirky simile.  I am sure that he has memorized most of the dialogue by now.

There are three things that amaze me—no, four things that I don’t understand: how an eagle glides through the sky, how a snake slithers on a rock, how a ship navigates the ocean, how a man loves a woman. Proverbs 30:18-19

LENT

Our family from New Orleans embraces Lent in grand style.  Schools are closed for a week during Mardi Gras. Parades are held throughout the week with people on floats, wearing masks, tossing beads to huge crowds. Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday in French) is in full swing, but after the party the masks come off. We are now entering into the the most holy of holidays for Christians, Lent.  We are to be in an attitude of repentance, and a solemn state of mind. Our churches will reflect this by not having flowers displayed during Lent. No Gloria or alleluias are sung during this season because it is a time of great loss (The Passion of Christ). On the fifth Sunday of Lent, sacred images are draped in purple as a remembrance of our sense of contrition. During this time we are called to prayer, penance, and almsgiving. We celebrate Lent in remembrance of Jesus being tempted for forty days in the desert by Satan. Forty is a significant number, because it represents testing, ending in victory.   The most important element of Lent is drawing us closer to Jesus through the Passion.

I struggle with giving up certain foods for Lent. This year I’m praying that I can get past a week of what I’m sacrificing. In the past, fasting came naturally, and many times I could fast for up 10 days. Now, just one day is a huge challenge. I remember that when I fasted, if I got past the third day, I knew that I’d gotten over the hurdle, and it felt natural to continue with the fast. I am asking God to help me with fasting during Lent. There are so many vices that I need to rid myself of that I can only accomplish this through the grace of God. Last year I gave up bread and sweets, but fell short. Lent is a time of a  deeper knowledge of God, and I pray that my sacrifice will honor Him.

I will be distributing the ashes at the 6:15 A.M. Mass, making the sign of the cross while saying, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

Valentine’s Day

We have dinner reservation at a popular steak house on Valentine’s Day, a conundrum brought on by the convergence of Lent and Valentine’s Day falling on the same day. We are to abstain from meat on Ash Wednesday, but I guess our husbands kind of forgot. Our reservations are at 5:30 for two reasons: some of us are old, and that was the only time available.

Mike will be receiving a new pair of socks with a red background as his gift for Valentine’s. As you can, tell I am not the romantic one in the family. I’m a true believer of “it’s the thought that counts.”

1 John 4:19 New International Version (NIV)

What a perfect order,” We love because he first loved us.” We need Jesus to navigate us into what true love is all about.  Valentine’s Day is meant for expressing our love,  Jesus is the author and finisher of our faith and only He can fulfill the void in our heart.

Prayer:

Dear Lord, I thank you for the love you have for us; allow us to be in your presence during this holy season of Lent. Teach us to love as you love. Amen

Though we have traveled to Israel for years we  are foreigners to both the Israelis and the Arabs when we visit Jerusalem. Israel has the strictest guidelines  when entering their country. The authorities are trained to pick certain passengers in groups to scrutinize. Mr. Bob, always stood out because he was well over 6′ tall, and a lanky chain smoker. He had messy white hair, and always wore the same old work boots with white tube socks which  had no elastic to hold them up.  Mr. Bob had money but no desire to invest in anything worldly. He always traveled with just a carryon. Sometimes we would travel on trips of more than two weeks, but that did not matter to Mr. Bob because he was completely satisfied with his attire.

Our leader Joanne always travels with a lot of luggage, and she often asked Mr. Bob to carry her luggage like it was his. At the airport in Israel, the security personnel usually unlocks and checks all of our luggage. When Mr. Bob’s luggage was unlocked, all of Joanne’s personal belongings were exposed. with Jewelry, women’s tops, etc., it was pretty evident that this stuff did not belong to Mr. Bob. Joanne had already cleared customs and was on the safe side of the airport. I was behind Mr. Bob and watched the whole thing go down. The airport security asked Mr. Bob if it this was his suitcase. “No!” said Mr. Bob. I knew that this was going to be a long, drawn-out ordeal. “Did you pack this suitcase?, they asked Mr. Bob. “No!” he said. Mr. Bob was pulled aside for the shakedown. I just watched for a few minutes and then intervened to explain the truth. Once you get through customs in Israel you can take a deep sigh of relief.

We know the routine, in which we ask that our passports not be stamped when we land in Israel. We do this because if is difficult to travel to other Middle Eastern countries if you have an Israeli stamp. The customs personnel always ask questions as to why were are in their country. We tell them that we are missionaries. Things have changed and are more high tech, so now each of us is handed a copy of part of  his or her passport photo ID. Travelers like us need this paper to visit Bethlehem and to leave Israel.

Our ministry’s work in Jerusalem is to reenact the carrying of the Cross down the Via Dolorosa on Good Friday. I will never forget what happened to us a few years ago. Someone forgot to pack Jesus’s wig and the stage blood. The night before Good Friday, we always have a rehearsal to make sure that all participants in the pageant are aware of their parts. When our group leader, Joanne asked about Jesus’s wig and stage blood, we all looked at each other with great fear. Someone dropped a really big ball and forgot to pack it. That night I was assigned the task of checking everyone’s suitcase for the blood and wig, but no one had either. It was early Good Friday when one of the women traveling with us who wears wigs, and she offered to sacrifice one of her wigs for Jesus (literally). One problem was that  it was a blond wig. We needed hair dye, but it was a Jewish holiday so their stores were closed. Caleb, a longtime Arab friend of the ministry, heard of our dilemma and offered to help. “I have a cousin who owns a beauty shop just down the street,” he said. There was no time to waste so Jim ( team member) and I jumped into Caleb’s old car and headed down the road, with Caleb trying to sell us jewelry during the whole trip.

Above the Mount of Olives gift shop was Caleb’s cousin’s shop. The shop was filled with Arab women getting beauty treatments. The women did not take kindly to our intrusion, which was a culture faux pas. Caleb did all the talking, and for $6 we left with a container of brown hair dye and a brush for applying the dye. When we arrived, Joanne nervously yelled,  ” This is not enough!” Jim and I had to return to the beauty shop, but this time Caleb was not around. We ran up and down hills for perhaps over a mile. We walked into the shop and the atmosphere was cold with the air being thick with anti-American glares. I start to explain that we needed more hair dye. A strange woman got up from her chair and started yelling at me. I could not understand one word, but I recognized that it was not a welcoming speech. Her black eyes and wet hair looked eerie. My intent was to get the hair dye because the retribution back at the hotel would be worse than this attack. Caleb’s cousin was no longer friendly, and she too wanted nothing to do with helping us. Using my hands to express my desperate need, I pleaded with her to please make us more solution. Again, the other creepy woman tried to talk her out of it. I knew Jim was praying because Caleb’s cousin finally agreed to help us. As she handed the solution to us she said it was now $20. For just a few seconds I wished I could speak Arabic so that I could give her a piece of my mind, but we did not have a minute to waste. We did not bring any extra money so we had no cab fare, and therefore  had to run back to the hotel.

The stage blood was another drama that we had to handle. In the kitchen of the hotel, Victor (team member) and I  got together with some of the waiters and cooks to figure out how to make blood. The only ingredient they had was something that resembled Kool-aid. We mixed it with water but it looked too watery . We kept adding more of the red dye until it slightly clumped up; that was all we could do.

By the time the bus arrived to take us to the Via Dolorosa, I was exhausted. I applied the fake Kool-aid on Joseph, a man from Croatia who was playing the part of Jesus. Joanne was so upset because the took on the color of pink with red. We did our best and saved the day, because we came to do our work for the Lord and nothing was going to hinder our calling.