I'm writing this from the perspective of a wife. Not a mother, or a brother. Not a friend or a relative. Not a co-worker or caregiver. Just a wife. Just a very fortunate wife.
I met Charlie Richburg sometime around December, 1983. I remember this date because it was shortly after I graduated from college. Bible College. Washington Bible College. Located in Lanham, Maryland. I met Charlie in Birmingham, AL. In this little story, I'll tell you how I got from there to here. I find it interesting. You may not. But Charlie and I often mused about how God brought the two of us together, from two entirely different parts of the world. Farther apart that even Maryland and Alabama, if the story goes back far enough.
I went to Washington Bible College in the Fall of 1979 after I had graduated from Conestoga Valley High School, in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. (See, we're already a little farther away from Alabama.) I chose WBC for several reasons. 1. In trying to decide what I wanted to "do" when I "grew up," I had the strong inclination that I wanted to help people in some way. I wasn't sure exactly what form that was going to take. 2. Being the daughter of Missionaries, and having been born and raised on the mission field in Kijabe, Kenya East Africa (even further from Alabama,) I was open to the possibility that the Mission Field would provide that opportunity. And 3. While in the 7th grade, "home" for what was to be much to my heartache, a permanent "furlough," and living in a tiny upstairs apartment with my family of 6, above an elderly widow in the downstairs apartment who liked things quiet, I discovered the Bible.
Now, don't get me wrong. I had seen the Bible before, and was familiar with it. I was, after all, the daughter of missionaries! My dad preached, taught, and wrote stories about and from the Bible all the time. Our family had nightly devotions where scripture was read, stories were told, songs were sung, and prayers were prayed. My mother would sing constantly in her beautiful soprano voice of the love of God, and I believe I "caught" her love for the Lord. She delighted in Him, and He in her. He delights in all of us, but some of us don't have that reciprocal relationship; that "mutual admiration." My mother did. Her love for God was deep and abiding, and carried her through some very deep valleys. I watched her, and learned.
Even though I had had the Bible read to me, and had memorized certain verses for Sunday School, or for Baptism, I had never picked up a Bible for my own personal reading. It took a good long, boring year in a cramped apartment with no friends and nothing to do before I picked up a copy and started to read...just for fun. And what fun it was. I'll never forget this Bible. It was one of the "Modern" ones. Green. Paperback. Paraphrased. Living. Illustrated. It was called..."The Way." How many of you remember that Bible? :-)
I remember I read it as a novel. Not as a devotional, or a guide for living. Just as a book. And I couldn't put it down. I remember when I read Psalm 139 for the first time in that Bible I just couldn't believe it! God loved me that much?! Why didn't anyone tell me about this before? I asked my mother if she had read that? She assured me that she had. I wondered why she had not told me about it, as it was so wonderful to me. Maybe she had, but I just did not have ears to hear at the time.
Well, I now had ears to hear, and a heart to listen and understand. It was while reading this Bible, that I felt I heard God's call on my life. He wanted me to tell others about Him. I saw children's faces, every color of the rainbow. This wasn't a specific call to a specific place, and this proved troublesome to me later. But it was a very clear impression in my heart. And that was really the clincher of why I chose to go to Washington Bible College to prepare to be .... A MISSIONARY! Ahhh. What a glorious sound. What a noble calling. Only. It didn't turn out quite as I imagined.
My father had also gone to Washington Bible College in the 1950's. It was in downtown Washington DC at the time. It was there that he met my beautiful mother. A "songbird" he called her. She was living in Washington, DC with her brother and sister in-law, nursing a broken heart caused by a broken engagement. She got a job working for the FBI in the daytime, and was taking some courses at the Bible College at night. Somehow that PA dutchman wooed my mother, and she agreed to marry him and follow him anywhere. In 1957 that took her to Africa. They went on a freighter. Their first child, my sister Rachael, was a toddler. She took her first steps on the boat to Africa. They landed first in Capetown, South Africa, and then went on to Mombasa on the Eastern coast of Africa. From there they drove inland to the Kijabe mission station where they were "literature missionaries." Dad was a photographer and a journalist. He helped publish two magazines, "Kesho" (in Swahili) and "Today in Africa" (in English.) Mom helped with clerical work, and started a tract club. She also sang solos, and in small groups. At one time she even cut a record entitled, "Let the Whole World Know." That along with raising 4 children who came at an interval of about every two years.
I suppose that was why I chose Washington Bible College. My dad had gone there. And...it was several hours away from home, and I was itching to be a little independent. I have a feeling they were relieved to see me go! (Peace, at last!!) :-)
My dad gave me some good advice as I was making that decision. Perhaps he had the forsight I did not have at the time. I was sure I was going to change the world by being a poor, single missionary. He told me that a Bible College education would never be wasted, even if I never went to the mission field. I may marry and be a mother, and my education would be beneficial even for that. While I was convinced this would never happen, nonetheless, I took his advice to heart.
Somehow this seems to be wandering a little off track from the "Charlie Richburg" theme... (Welcome to my world) Bunny trails anyone??
So...for my part. God took me from Africa to Pennsylvania to Maryland to New Jersey (that story later) to Birmingham, Alabama. (That story later, too)
For Charlie Richburg's part he was not nearly so well traveled. His travels were from Andalusia, AL where he was born, to Guntersville, AL where his dad worked as an engineer, to Opp, Al where they moved after his uncle died suddenly of a heart attack leaving a young widow and two young children. Charlie's dad bought his brothers business from his widow and settled his family back in Opp where Charlie grew up from the age of 5 onward. After graduating from the Opp High School, he went to Asbury College in Wilmore, KY his freshman year, then followed friends to the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa for his Sophomore year, and finally, followed a sweetheart to Auburn University for his Junior and Senior year where he graduated with a degree in History. The relationship with the girl went no further than friendship, but he always described his college years as the happiest years of his life. After all that glorious independence, he returned to Opp, AL and lived with his widowed mother. Feeling the restriction and frustration of living under the roof and rules of his mother again, he took a course in computer programing, on the advice of a wise, older friend and mentor, Mr. Claude Nevin. This turned out to be a decision that was pivotal in the direction of his life.
While living at home, and going to school, Charlie took up running to stay in shape. He developed a pain in his left knee. The X-ray showed a small sliver on his knee. The doctor brushed it off as nothing, and encouraged Charlie to buy better running shoes and see him in a month. A month later, and the sliver was a tumor, and Charlie was losing weight. This time the doctor was horrified and somber. He had missed it. What he had assumed to be nothing was in actuality Osteosarcoma, a deadly cancer of the bone. He sent him immediately to Panama City, Florida, and they referred him to Shands Teaching Hospital in Gainesville, FL. The ultimate treatment was amputation of his left leg at the hip socket, and 14 months of heavy duty chemotherapy. As you can imagine, these were among the darkest times of Charlie's life.
More on that later. I'm taking a break now.
Oh my goodness, the break I took!! I think it's been a few years since I started this! (1/26/14)
Back to Charlie. God had a purpose for him being back at home with his mother. It was a test for him, as to whether he, as a young, but rapidly growing Christian would submit to his mother's authority. It seemed so confining, and he wanted to go do mission work in Canada and change the world. He wanted to go down to Mobile to worship with his friends. Instead he was forced to wrestle with being obedient to his mother's wishes, even though he felt he was an "adult." He went down to the back room, and prayed. He felt the Lord clearly told him to honor his mother. So he did, in obedience to the Lord. The result of this was not only a better relationship with his mother, but it put him where he needed to be when cancer struck. It was also a lesson that he would carry with him through his life. He was a "man under authority." His first authority was God, and second was his mother (his Father passed away when he was 12.) Later he would learn to be submissive to his bosses. He always gained favor with his employers, and was loved by everyone he met.
Anyway, after he completed his chemotherapy and was fitted with an artificial leg, it was time to look for a job. In Charlie's small town mindset, he was looking only in South Alabama, North Florida for jobs. However, most of them were small companies who looked on Charlie as too big of an insurance risk, having just come through Cancer. He heard that IBM was hiring in Birmingham, so he interviewed with them, took a test of logic, passed with flying colors, and was hired. Being with IBM broadened his world, as he was trained in New York, flew to California and other places for events, training, etc. He had to learn to overcome his southern accent in order to be understood by the Yanks.
He settled into work in Birmingham, and at age 30, he took the advice of a financial advisor, and had a Will drawn up. This is where I come in.
After graduating from College, and having been accepted my a mission board with an assignment to go to the Philippines (here's the kicker) as soon as I had all debts paid off and had raised support. And yes, I did have some debts to pay. My school loans. THANK HEAVEN because I had not one ounce of peace about going there, or with this mission board or anything. I had the really bad feeling that I had run ahead of the Lord. I had taken His call, and then tried to fulfill it My way. I had followed my Dad's example, not God's leading. This would be a lesson I'd continue to learn all my life. SLOW DOWN! Don't run ahead of God.
After graduating from College I knew I needed 3 things. A job. A place to stay. And some means of transportation. Someone dear to my heart included in her Graduation card to me, a worn out postcard that had obviously been taped to someone's wall for a very long time, it still had the yellowed scotch tape marks on it. But the words on this postcard would have great impact on me from that moment on. It said: "As thou goest, step by step, I will open up the way before you." Proverbs 4:12 (Old Hebrew Translation) Oh. My. Word. Just what I needed. So, here's how it went: Step One. Help Parents move from PA to NY. (Two bedroom apartment) I could stay there temporarily, but then would have to scoot so my brother could have the bedroom. He was still in college. Step Two. Help out in the kitchen at the Mission Candidate School in Wayne, NJ. (the same one I had gone to as a candidate the previous summer.) It was not for pay, just room and board, but it was very beneficial in other ways. The family I worked with took me on as one of their own, and by the end of the summer, offered for me to come live with them for room and board in Birmingham, AL (Second of three things needed) I agreed, and while there got a job working for a Christian Lawyer. (First of three things needed) and Daniel Sutton found a used car at a very good price, and allowed me to pay him back in payments. (Third of three things needed) Step. by. Step.
Early in my "career" as a "Legal Secretary" a Will came through the door for a single man. I had not been trained as to how to make up this kind of will as of yet, so I had to send it to Atlanta. When it came back to us, I called this man to come in and sign his Will. You guessed it. Charlie Richburg.
He called me a week or so later and asked me to go to the Nutcracker Suite ballet. I had seen the billboards around town, and had really wanted to go, and had decided that I was going to go, even if I knew no one else in town. (The missionaries I was living with wouldn't go... probably thought it was a sin.... dancing and all, you know...) So, when he asked, I readily agreed!
Backtracking a bit. Before I moved south, I made some promises to myself. While I didn't know if I would ever marry, I decided I would only date 1. Christians and 2. Gentlemen.
When I accepted the date with Charlie, I was so excited about going to the Ballet, that I didn't even think about those requirements. Woops! Little did I know that Charlie was thinking the same thing, as he had the same standards. He WAS a gentleman, and yes, a Christian too. We married two years later.
Again. Enough for now.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Follower!
I have a follower! Thanks, Libby! Now I have to think of something to say. Something profound. Something deep. Hmmm....Nope. It's just not coming to me.
Wait, maybe I do have something to say.
Today I struggled with time management. I had to be at work at 2, so I had the morning to...get stuff done. I didn't want to...get stuff done. I didn't like the things I had to get done, cleaning the kitchen, dining room, living room, do the laundry, clean my bedroom, you know the drill. All the stuff we have to do, but don't like doing. I kept being distracted by e-mail and facebook. I was so completely A.D.D. I would start one thing, move to another, then back to the first thing, and so on. I would listen to the radio, turn it off, etc. It was a beautiful day. I wanted to be outside, but because of my very poor time management what I needed to get done just wasn't getting done, and there was that 2:00 deadline. Finally I managed to make a dent in the work. Kitchen was cleaned, Living room and dining room picked up, bed made, clothes hung up and put away, laundry folded and delivered to appropriate rooms. I took a shower, and made it to work only a few minutes late...(woops).
Then I went to Frank and Barbara's Bible study tonight. Frank read about a nun who wrote about the most mundane tasks she had to do (she was a nurse) - that she would do it "all for Jesus." Clean the bedpans? All for Jesus. Bathe a patient? All for Jesus. Change the sheets? All for Jesus.
I thought about all the mundane things I'm called to do. I'm oh, so tempted to hate them, to resent them, to think I have better, more important things to do. But if I just changed my perspective to the fact that everything I do is ALL for Jesus, perhaps my attitude will change a bit, and I will have joy in my work, in my service for Him. He's done so much for me. Nothing is too menial for me to do for Him.
Wait, maybe I do have something to say.
Today I struggled with time management. I had to be at work at 2, so I had the morning to...get stuff done. I didn't want to...get stuff done. I didn't like the things I had to get done, cleaning the kitchen, dining room, living room, do the laundry, clean my bedroom, you know the drill. All the stuff we have to do, but don't like doing. I kept being distracted by e-mail and facebook. I was so completely A.D.D. I would start one thing, move to another, then back to the first thing, and so on. I would listen to the radio, turn it off, etc. It was a beautiful day. I wanted to be outside, but because of my very poor time management what I needed to get done just wasn't getting done, and there was that 2:00 deadline. Finally I managed to make a dent in the work. Kitchen was cleaned, Living room and dining room picked up, bed made, clothes hung up and put away, laundry folded and delivered to appropriate rooms. I took a shower, and made it to work only a few minutes late...(woops).
Then I went to Frank and Barbara's Bible study tonight. Frank read about a nun who wrote about the most mundane tasks she had to do (she was a nurse) - that she would do it "all for Jesus." Clean the bedpans? All for Jesus. Bathe a patient? All for Jesus. Change the sheets? All for Jesus.
I thought about all the mundane things I'm called to do. I'm oh, so tempted to hate them, to resent them, to think I have better, more important things to do. But if I just changed my perspective to the fact that everything I do is ALL for Jesus, perhaps my attitude will change a bit, and I will have joy in my work, in my service for Him. He's done so much for me. Nothing is too menial for me to do for Him.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
bedtime and boredom.
It's 10:29 p.m. on a Saturday night. Nothing else to do. Kids are all in bed. One, possibly two are in my bed, because theirs are covered with STUFF that they either don't want to deal with, or don't know what to do with, or haven't just plain old made the time to deal with because there are other things screaming for their attention. Ok. I can't be too hard on them. I do the same all the time. Sometimes it just takes inspiration. I watched 2 movies with the kids this afternoon. Too much idleness. However, I wasn't motivated to do anything else, after driving 14 hours over the last 2 days, and dealing with some intensely emotional and serious issues I was ready to chill a bit. I guess it was ok. Nothing was screaming for my attention.
I just get irritable when I'm too idle. I feel like I'm wasting time, and I feel guilty. Then I get grouchy, and irritable, and I start to find fault with the kids, and mostly with me.
I'm in a weird mood. It may be hormonal, and will pass in a day or two. I sure hope so. I also miss Charlie. I miss my mate. My Partner. My equal, my friend, my husband.
I don't want to whine about being a single mother. God has blessed me in so many ways. He has made it so we're not strained financially. We still must be careful, but we're ok. Not hurting. We had a good marriage, not a divorce with hard feelings. That is a blessing. Less baggage to deal with. It's just hard to do the job of parenting that really was intended to be done by two people, with just one. Managing a household works better with two. Different ones handle different aspects of it. Now one has to do all, as best as she can. Parenting works better with two. Different people handle different aspects better. Some get chores organized, and kids disciplined, others handle the relationship aspects. Then sometimes those roles flip/flop. But it does work better when there are two. That's as it was intended. But things happen. People die. And the rest of us have to adjust. Better to have loved and lost.... Yes it is. Than never to have loved at all.
I don't really want to go to bed right now. But there's nothing else to do. No one to talk to. I kind of want to cry, but there's no one really to cry with. I don't want to cry with my kids. That's just not right. If Charlie were here, I'd cry with him. He'd let me.
Maybe I'll get in bed and read, if Abby will let me. (Wait a minute, it IS my bed isn't it? - That's the problem with kids sleeping in bed with you.)
I just get irritable when I'm too idle. I feel like I'm wasting time, and I feel guilty. Then I get grouchy, and irritable, and I start to find fault with the kids, and mostly with me.
I'm in a weird mood. It may be hormonal, and will pass in a day or two. I sure hope so. I also miss Charlie. I miss my mate. My Partner. My equal, my friend, my husband.
I don't want to whine about being a single mother. God has blessed me in so many ways. He has made it so we're not strained financially. We still must be careful, but we're ok. Not hurting. We had a good marriage, not a divorce with hard feelings. That is a blessing. Less baggage to deal with. It's just hard to do the job of parenting that really was intended to be done by two people, with just one. Managing a household works better with two. Different ones handle different aspects of it. Now one has to do all, as best as she can. Parenting works better with two. Different people handle different aspects better. Some get chores organized, and kids disciplined, others handle the relationship aspects. Then sometimes those roles flip/flop. But it does work better when there are two. That's as it was intended. But things happen. People die. And the rest of us have to adjust. Better to have loved and lost.... Yes it is. Than never to have loved at all.
I don't really want to go to bed right now. But there's nothing else to do. No one to talk to. I kind of want to cry, but there's no one really to cry with. I don't want to cry with my kids. That's just not right. If Charlie were here, I'd cry with him. He'd let me.
Maybe I'll get in bed and read, if Abby will let me. (Wait a minute, it IS my bed isn't it? - That's the problem with kids sleeping in bed with you.)
I'm blogging!
Well, I finally got a blog spot, and now I'm going to have to figure out how to use it. I'm used to e-mail, and finally facebook. So this is something new. Hopefully it will give me a place to write down and organize thoughts. We'll see where it leads. Now I must go. Things to do.
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