I am pausing in my chronological story to talk about grandparents and the important role they played in my life. I was fortunate to have strong relationships with both sets of grandparents and my great-grandmother. They were all different in their personalities but I can see a piece of each of them in my personality. Great-grandma Deventer or Grandma Venter to her great grandchildren lived in a farmhouse surrounded by fields on a gravel road between our home in Auburn and my grandparents home in Fort Wayne. I believe grandparents have a gift of giving unconditional love to their grandchildren. Being a single parent my mom did not have the capacity to give one-on-one attention to each of her children as much as she probably wanted. This is where grandparents stepped in for me. I remember a few overnight sleepovers at Great- Grandma Venter’s home. Just me and Grandma Venter. I loved having all the attention of my grandma. Now that I am an adult, I am sure she enjoyed having someone with her as well because she lived by herself. It is amazing how many memories are associated with food...marshmallows or gumdrops in crazy daisy corelle dishes, fried chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet tea but not too sweet and fresh raspberries from the garden. These are a few of my favorite things. Grandma Venter’s white farmhouse had peonies blooming in the front yard along with the prickly fir trees that dropped needles in the yard making it treacherous to go barefoot. Grandma Venter was an excellent seamstress making clothes for her grandchildren (I still have some of the dresses she made my mom) and baby quilts for her great grandchildren. In her bedroom I enjoyed looking at her small collection of costume jewelry in her light blue jewelry box with the scent of sewing machine oil, fabric, patterns and Grandma’s lotion filling the room. Jim and Carol Ahlersmeyer were my mom’s parents. They lived in a subdivision on the north side of Fort Wayne. Christmas Eve and birthdays were celebrated with my grandparents. Grandpa Jim made my tenth birthday extra special by making a sign and attaching it along with balloons to their lamp in the front yard. I remember feeling simultaneously embarrassed and loved when we pulled up in front of their home to see the sign and balloons. Vacations as young children were often made possible because of grandparents. One summer Grandpa Jim took my mom, my older brother and me to Peru, IN to see the circus and to Monticello, IN to Indiana Beach Amusement Park. We spent the night in a motel (remember the ones with all the doors opening to the outside with an outdoor pool in the middle). The night we stayed at the motel there was a lunar eclipse and I remember everyone sitting in chairs outside watching it. Again, my memories are associated with food. Grandma Carol made the best zucchini cookies with cream cheese frosting, cinnamon applesauce that she flavored with red cinnamon candy pieces and vegetable beef soup. What Grandparent does not always have ice cream in the freezer? Grandpa and Grandma usually had neapolitan ice cream in theirs. They also had a supply of Pepsi in tall glass bottles in the fridge with back up in the garage. Grandma Carol is a dooer and she often expressed love by helping others. After Abby was born she drove from her home in Fort Wayne, IN to our home in Bryan, OH to help do some cleaning, watch Hannah for an afternoon while I napped, and made her famous applesauce. It is no wonder she felt quite loved when my parents, siblings and my nieces and nephews gathered on a Saturday in June a few years ago to clean her home, work in the yard and take her grocery shopping. We were speaking her love language. Grandma Carol enjoyed working in her yard growing a small vegetable garden and tending to rose bushes behind her house. I can remember the smell of lily of the valley growing near her front door. Cookouts with grilled hamburgers and hotdogs and lawn games were the best at Grandpa Jim and Grandma Carol’s in the summer time. We played lawn games like horseshoes, yard darts, croquet and badminton. From the youngest to the oldest, Grandpa Jim got everyone involved. I remember sleepovers at my grandparent’s home. My Grandpa Jim stepped in to fulfill the role of my missing dad. He taught me to ride a bike, holding me steady running behind until I was able to ride on my own. Grandpa Jim and Grandma Carol both worked. Grandpa Jim for Allen Dairy and Grandma Carol at Montgomery Wards. Because they both worked sleepovers often occurred over the weekend. Saturday morning my Grandpa worked either in the yard or around the house, but Saturday afternoon you would find him in his favorite chair in the back family room watching either baseball or black and white Westerns. Grandpa Jim was athletic and enjoyed baseball, basketball, golf and bowling. Sometimes Grandpa Jim and Grandma Carol would take us out to dinner at one of the many Don Hall’s restaurants in Fort Wayne. These are restaurants where the speciality was steak with baked potatoes. When we spent Saturday night we would go to Leo United Methodist Church with my grandparents where Grandpa Jim served as an usher. Grandpa and Grandma Weigle are my dad’s mom and step-dad. I never knew my Grandpa Pancake so Grandpa Weigle stepped into the role of Grandpa with much love. Grandpa Weigle was talented artistically, musically and as a writer. He painted beautiful rural watercolor scenes. He played the organ at their church and he wrote poems and documented his courtship and early marriage to my Grandma in writing. He was quite romantic. For most of my childhood they lived in Florida. Because they lived so far away we only saw them a few times a year. But, they were intentional in being a part of our lives. Even after my parents divorce the relationship between my mom and Grandma remained strong. Mom was always a daughter in love. The bonds in the family of God can be stronger than marriage familial bonds. Grandma Weigle grew up in Ohio and lived for a time in Indiana and became a part of the Church of God Quite a few summers she traveled to Anderson, IN to attend the church of God camp meeting. One summer she attended camp meeting and then I was able to travel back to Lockport, NY with her where they were living at the time. Grandpa Weigle was a general contractor for industrial construction and his work took him around the country. One-on-one time with a grandparent, just what my heart needed during the summer of 1983. I see a pattern in my life of valuing one-on-one time. I am not a big group person who is attracted to the spotlight. Give me face-to-face time and I am content. Road trips or for that matter any time with Grandma Weigle was not dull. Things just seemed to happen to Grandma Weigle. She may become flustered by them momentarily but then she had the ability to laugh at herself. I am glad I saw this modeled for me. The ability to not take myself so seriously. For example, one time when we were visiting her in Florida we went shopping. For some reason, she had left the car running with the air conditioning on and when we got back to the car the windows were all steamed up. I believe she may have locked the doors too. I was only ten when I traveled to New York with Grandma to spend three weeks before my mom and siblings came to pick me up. At the age of ten three weeks was a long time to spend away from your parents. My Grandma and I would go shopping, miniature golfing and to the movies. Disney re-released Snow White that summer and she took me to see it. I would watch Little House on the Prairie in the afternoon while Grandma took a nap. Grandpa Weigle let me use his paints to paint a rooster he had drawn on a piece of wood. When my mom and siblings came we visited Niagara Falls with a boat ride on Maiden of the Mist and an afternoon excursion into Canada to a small amusement park where I bought the Secret Garden as a souvenir. After my mom remarried in 1985, my brother and I rode back to Florida with my Grandma and spent some time with her and my Grandpa. They taught us how to play euchre and I think we may have played every night. Grandma took us to Epcot Center and to the beach to play in the waves. My first period had been earlier that year and it was not quite regular. Wouldn’t you know it, I got my period while we were in Florida. I can be so stinking independent and shy I never told my Grandma about it. I am sure the trip would have been much easier if I had filled her in on this detail of my life. But no, I tried to figure out how I was going to navigate wearing a pad to the beach with my swimsuit. I am thankful some subjects are not as taboo to talk about as they once were. I am sure my Grandma would have understood my dilemma but I just was not certain how to bring up the topic and again the independence. Grandma Venter passed away in 1984 when I was 11. Grandpa Jim had a heart attack when I was in the sixth grade and stayed in a nursing home for the remainder of his life. He later died in 1988 when I was a sophomore in high school. Grandpa Weigle passed away in 1991 when I was a senior in high school. Grandma Weigle passed away in 2012. Another wind of the yarn, grandparents. I am grateful for the impact they each had on my life. Each of their lives are entwined with mine, making me who I am today. I did not know Grandpa Pancake but I favor his side of the family in looks with green eyes and brunette hair. I enjoy caring for my home through making satiating home cooked meals and sewing like my Grandma Venter. I can be a dooer like Grandma Carol and although I don’t like to clean as much as she does, I do appreciate a clean and orderly home. Hmm, how am I like Grandpa Jim? I am thankful for his example of loving others well and enjoying life. This is still an example to me. Expressing love to others through warm hugs and not being afraid to try new things. Grandma Weigle also enjoyed life, although her life was incredibly hard at times. I appreciate her ability to not take yourself too seriously. I believe I inherited stubbornness and independence from both grandmothers. Grandpa Weigle was a tender man and expressed love well to his family. I am extremely grateful that even though I had an absent father, God blessed me with these tremendous men of God who were not afraid to show feelings and express love to their grandchildren. I think these positive qualities that I saw modeled in my grandfathers made me instinctively look for the same qualities in a future husband. Eric is athletic, he expresses love well to his family and he has written quite a few poems to me throughout our dating and marriage years. My ball of yarn is getting bigger and I still have over half my life left. :) Poem written by Grandpa Weigle to my Grandma Weigle on their 5th Anniversary in 1973.
Hand in Hand We were strolling hand in hand through life’s enchanted garden, My wife and I. The path, the flowers and trees were sprinkled with sun and shade. See over there, our son Lee who is now grown and a fine young man. Life was sweet and full and all was so perfect and right. As we strolled hand in hand through life’s enchanted garden, My wife and I. Suddenly in the winking of the eye, all around was darkness. No sun to light the way for my wife and I. The earth it did shake, the winds did blast. I clasped her hand so tight. Hold me tighter she cried, “I’m so afraid.” Don’t let me slip, don’t let me slip away. I strained and strained with all my might. In human strength I failed and she slipped away. In exhaustion I dropped to the path and there I lay. Finally my eyes were open, it was light in an eerie sort of way. I looked down the path and all was shrouded in mist and haze. It must be a dream, yes a dream and I looked around, But she was gone and my hand so empty hung. I must find her, and up and down the path I ran Hours turned into days, days into weeks, and weeks into months. She was gone, forever gone from life’s enchanted garden. Can this be life’s enchanted garden with all the mist and haze? Is this really life’s enchanted pathway with me so all alone? Alone! Was I really alone? No! I could not be alone. It is written. “Lo, I am with you always, even into the end.” “I was with you in the darkness as I was with you in the light. Keep walking, keeping going on, on down through life’s enchanted garden.” With new assurance I moved along but the mist and haze did not go away. As I was walking along one day, a voice I heard, I stopped. “Jack, look toward the south one day” the voice did say. “To the south and down Florida way.” I asked. “Yes to the south, there is someone so nice down Fort Lauderdale way. I have found you a new companion, a new love. So please don’t delay.” And then all was quiet and still. The mist, the haze, it is lifting, the enchanted garden, I could see again, the flowers, the trees all seemed so right. With new hope and haste I traveled on, Looking, looking to the south and Florida way. And then I saw her standing alone in the enchanted garden How could I help but see her, the most beautiful flower In life’s enchanted garden that day. With halting steps I approached and looked into her eyes. I reached out my hand and with trembling voice I asked. “Helen Dear I would love to take you hand in mine. I would ask you to stroll hand in hand with me, Down through life’s enchanted garden.” She reached out her hand to mine with smile so sweet, And for five years we have traveled together down life’s path. My wife and I. The path, the flowers and trees more beautiful grow. And in the garden are new and wondrous flowers. Just look over there! We see Timmy, and Lara, and Becky, Our new delights. Isn’t life’s enchanted garden so beautiful Darling? As we stroll hand in hand down through the pathways My wife and I. Jack Weigle
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Sometimes I feel my brain is a ball of yarn that has fallen to the floor and unraveled. Recently I was running when my memory took me to my childhood home. A place where a canopy of crab apple trees covered the gravel lane that led to our home filling the air with lush fragrance and soothing pastels of color as the petals drifted to cover the ground in the gentle breeze. I began to recall other memories related to my childhood, the yarn unraveling even further. At one point, I thought how did my mind get here? All because I heard the word meadow in a song by John Lucas. "There's a home in the meadow, and it's a home you ought to meet." Our home was a home in the meadow. God has been prompting me during this pandemic season to remember. Much like we are instructed to do in Psalm 105:1,5 "1 Give praise to the Lord, proclaim his name; make known among the nations what he has done. 5 Remember the wonders he has done." It is time for me to begin to wind up the ball of yarn and with each turn of the ball, remember what He has done. Journey with me down that 1/4 mile gravel lane off of Country Road 35 in Auburn, IN. Although my first home was a small home within walking distance of a nice park in Cedarville, IN we moved to Auburn within my first year of life, so my first memories are of this home. I believe my dad wanted to live off the grid, to exist outside of governmental observation. My dad was the son of an alcoholic father and a veteran of the Vietnam War. Let's just say, he had little trust in others. My dad passed away in 2011 but there are so many questions I would like to ask him. "After returning from Vietnam you got your bachelor's in education, why did you never teach?" "Why did you want to live off the grid?" "Why did you abandon your responsibilities as a father and leave your family; your wife and four kids ages 8, 6, 3 and 1?" "Do you realize the issues I have had to work through because I grew up in a divorced home without a biological dad?" I know the questions get deep fast. Then God calls me to remember. Remember I am a God of redemption. I have been redeeming that which is broken since the Garden of Eden. I am so very grateful for God's heart of redemption. God saw that young family. He had plans for that young family. An earthly father may have abandoned his family, but our Heavenly Father was ever present. Shortly after my parent's separation, we received an invitation to church from a family whose son was a friend of my older brother. One Sunday our young family, a single mom with four kids (talk about courage in the early 1980's) drove south in their brown van on Country Road 35 and entered the doors of Hopewell United Brethren Church and my life would never be the same. Several people within this church (the Downen's, the Cook's, the Cherry's, the Bryant's, the Hughes' and Keith Steininger) adopted and discipled our family. I asked Jesus into my heart at the age of 7 during a week of Vacation Bible School. Barb Downen taught my VBS class. I memorized John 3:16 in Whirlybirds, a mid week Bible program that Keith Steininger helped to oversee. Jeanette Cherry was my Sunday School teacher faithfully sending postcards if I missed a Sunday. At the age of 8 I received my first Bible from Wing and Dorothy Hughes. In the back of this NIV Bible with a worn blue cover filled with stickers from the early 80's is written on the first Notes page in childish print and spelling, "I will never leve God." This is true almost 40 years later. But more importantly, I have learned that God will never leave me. Remember how God redeemed this young family, a wind of the yarn. Our home in the meadow from 1974-1984 through my childhood eyes was an idyllic home although I am sure my mom felt at times isolated and alone. She was most likely frustrated at the condition of the home because my dad began a remodel before their separation but never finished. She made the most of it by decorating our home with elements she found in nature, canning fruits and veggies harvested from our garden and fending off rabbits in the garden with the shotgun dad had left. We had a big flower and vegetable garden which included grape vines and a gooseberry patch. Store bought grape juice cannot compare to homemade canned grape juice and one of my favorite pies is tart gooseberry pie. In the winter she kept our home warm by stocking the wood burning stove with chopped logs. Boredom is the seedbed of creativity. We were forced to be creative as our only technology was a tv with four local channels. Every season we were outside exploring, hiking through the woods, climbing trees, weaving through the corn rows in the field, pitching and hitting baseballs with my brother, tromping through the snow, building snowmen and forming snow angels. Throughout the summer I was found trailing after my brother running while he was riding his bike. Seems like I continually had skinned up knees in the summer as sandals are not the best running shoes on gravel lanes. When the weather was not conducive to being outside I played school and dress up with my younger sisters or Monopoly or Chess with my brother. I also baked cookies or cakes in the kitchen, or tried, some ingredients may have been left out from time-to-time or maybe it was the wrong measurements, I was not very good at fractions. My very best friend, C.J., lived on the next County Road west of our home. We met at McKenney-Harrison Elementary School. Friday night sleepovers were so much fun at her farmhouse. We played Little House on the Prairie on the straw bales in the barn, picked strawberries in their strawberry patch, ice skated on her pond in the winter and took care of her horse, Bud. C.J.'s mom is a wonderful baker and cook. One of C.J.'s birthdays we pulled taffy. To a child growing up in a divorced home, C.J. 's family was an example of a family with a mom and a dad and they were very welcoming to me in their home. I am grateful to C.J. and how she so generously listened to me as I shared my thoughts and how she made a child of divorce feel normal. Remember how God provided adventure and friendship for a young elementary school aged girl, a wind of the yarn. Because of the divorce at such a young age I felt like I was always trying to catch up in school and when I felt like I caught up in the third grade in part because I remember the accomplishment I felt at completing my first chapter book, I had to work my tail off to stay in the game. Although I was near the top of my class academically, school never came easy. Even at times as an adult I struggle with feeling “not as smart” as those around me. A continual struggle as I desire to live as God’s beloved daughter knowing He is proud of me as my Heavenly Father not for what I do but because I am His. When I was in the third grade Hopewell United Brethren Church went through a church split. At this young age I did not understand all the dynamics involved. My mom decided at the time of the split to begin to look for a new church. In June of 1982, mom, Tim and I visited Calvary Chapel of Auburn in a storefront in downtown Auburn. It was one of their last Sundays in the storefront before moving to the new church they were building on CR 427 just south of Auburn. I did not know that Sunday that CC of Auburn would be my new church family until Eric and I went to seminary in 1996. Again our young family was adopted by other families. The Buss family invited us to go on vacation with them to a cabin in the UP of Michigan. Lake Superior was a walk down the dunes from the cabin. Our two families caravaned together to the cabin using walkie talkies between the two vehicles. They had three older children with their youngest being the same age and good friends with my older brother. The week was filled with running up and down the dunes, climbing on the breakers in the lake, meals together, games, baths in a nearby warmer lake, and I am sure much laughter. Some laughter at my expense by my brother and his friend as I took a tumble running down the dune and landing on my face right in front of them. You can’t take yourself too seriously, get up and laugh it off. I love the body of Christ, His church. We are all children of God, family. When the body of Christ gathers there is laughter, joy, fun, compassion, giving, and so much more. I am grateful for these earliest memories of doing life together that our girls now have experienced with our church family. Middle school was rough, we moved from my idyllic home in the country to a home in the town of Auburn the summer before sixth grade. I went from having my own room to sharing a room with my two younger sisters. Two redeeming factors of the move was the library was one block from our house and the downtown area of Auburn with the dime shop where I bought my cross stitch supplies was within walking distance. My class was the first class to begin sixth grade in middle school. Before that elementary school was kindergarten through sixth grade and junior high was 7th grade through 9th grade. We were the first sixth grade class to begin at the middle school. Middle school is a time of transition. A lot of elementary schools come together to form one middle school. C.J. was accepted into the gifted program for our core classes so we did not have many classes together. At the start of middle school my mom qualified for reduced lunches with the school. Students who received reduced lunches had to go through a separate lunch line. I sincerely hope this policy is not still in place. At an age where you are desperately wanting to fit in they institute a practice like a separate lunch line where you stand out. I am thankful for the friendships that developed within my youth group at church. I know they carried me through my middle school and high school experience. Since 6th grade was moving to middle school, our youth group adjusted accordingly and I joined the youth group as a sixth grader. One of the first trips I took with the youth group was to Cedar Point. Several girls in high school took me under their wing and let me hang around them. This meant I was able to ride quite a few of the roller coasters out of positive peer pressure. I met Tara at church. Tara was one year ahead of me in school. Summers in middle school and early high school were spent at her house watching 80’s romantic comedies and hanging around her pool singing the soundtracks to the 80’s romantic comedies. Looking back I can now see another of God’s gifts in the friendships He provided at church. I often felt out of place at school but church and time with Tara, the youth group, and my church family was where I could be myself...another wind of the yarn. I did not even need a picture to grab your attention. Racism is a controversial topic right now. I am self declaring myself to be a repentant racist. This past month I have been watching, I have been reading and I have been listening. I know your first reaction may be, “What? Becky, the quiet pastor’s wife is racist?” My answer is yes. I may not intentionally be mean to people of color. That is the catch, intentionality. Through the course of my 47 years I have benefited from a system that favors whites. Up until now I have unintentionally been participating in a system that is harmful and deadly to those who may look differently than me. Unintentionally or ignorance is not an excuse. I believe for most Americans, ignorance can no longer be an excuse.
Through the events of this past month, light is dispelling darkness. And, this darkness is downright ugly and evil. It is time to ask, “What is the true history of our country?” What is the history of our cities and small towns? I am asking the question, why was there just one black girl in my small town kindergarten class? I am not even sure if her family moved before first grade. I don’t recall her continuing in our school. I was too young at the time to wonder about this, but I can’t use that excuse any longer. This example from my own life does not represent liberty and justice for all. I am not sure what happened to Regina, but she most likely did not have the same educational privileges that I did. For this reason (and many more) it is now time for me to mourn for the black community for the rights (justice) that have been withheld from them. I have to be honest. I am having a hard time celebrating the 4th of July this year, Independence Day. Not just because of the current Pandemic impacting social gatherings and fireworks but because of the events of this past month and really the past several years. This 4th will be more subdued and reflective for our family. I do have the custard for homemade ice cream in the fridge chilling and we will grill hamburgers and hotdogs for dinner not forgetting the watermelon. But, am I truly proud to be an American? This is Independence Day, but who benefits from this independence, this freedom? Do all Americans truly benefit from liberty and justice? It is for this reason our Independence day will be more low key. Even though I am struggling with the thought of my US citizenship, a privilege because of my birth in this country, I am not struggling with my citizenship as a Christian. I have been adopted into the Kingdom of God. I can say with the Apostle Paul, “But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ.” Philippians 3:20 I I may live in a “great” nation but this nation is made up of sinners, me included. Because we are sinners, our nation is flawed. But there is hope because of the truth found in God’s word. I encourage you during this season of turmoil to seek first the Bible for truth, not the news, social media, or maybe even family or friends. The Bible is our plumb line, our center line. The Bible keeps us centered on what is true.. “So this is what the Sovereign Lord says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone for a sure foundation; the one who trusts will never be dismayed. I will make justice the measuring line and righteousness the plumb line.” Isaiah 28:16, 17 I place my trust in that cornerstone, a sure foundation. Our nation does not define justice, but God’s word does. So on this Independence Day, I am taking time to celebrate the freedom I have experienced as an American but it will be a sober celebration as I reflect and mourn with the people of color because of the lack of justice they have received. Lord, may your kingdom come. Matthew 6:10 |
AuthorI am a woman who loves everything about making a house a home. I enjoy meal planning, cooking, baking, sewing, crafting, and decorating. Not so much cleaning and laundry, but that goes along with caring for a home. I am blessed to be married to a pastor and we have had the privilege of raising two daughters. Archives
July 2021
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