I married one of the greatest guys I had ever met at 20 years old. I was very fortunate as I had just committed my life to the Lord again, after being born again in a small-town Southern Baptist church, then after a wild ride after graduation, I fell madly in love with Jesus and wanted desperately to please my Lord. I had moved in with my long-time childhood friend from school and we rented a 2 bedroom 2 bath apartment. She thought I had gone nuts, listening to all these gospel quartets constantly. I stopped going to bars with her, which my trips anyway were few and far between, anyway as I had never liked the scenes. I longed for love and attention. I would dance and had boyfriend after boyfriend, but nothing ever lasted. I was never able to talk about much of anything of importance, until I met Jesus. Smoke filled the bars then, and I couldn’t stand the smell, lots of oddities from my perspective, from the way I grew up, in church every Sunday morning, night and sometimes Wednesday night. I sang in the choir and was a member of my youth group. I had a huge crush on the youth pastor at the other church where I attended their youth group as well……I thought he was so godly and cute as he could be……kind and honest and caring individual. I longed to be loved and appreciated. He didn’t seem to notice me. He seemed much older anyway and was the youth pastor, so I figured I didn’t have a chance.
I had never found any reason to feel like I belonged anywhere except in a place of abuse. Then I met the love of my life. He was disciplined, tall for his size but had this cute smile and a wonderful godly attitude about wanting to be a servant and he sure knew the bible. He struggled with his own insecurities as his parents were in a near fatal car crash early on. His mom was not the same after the accident and suffered bouts of anger and frustration and his father had a crushed hand and started chain smoking, then couldn’t sleep. They were busy making a living just like my parents and weren’t able to take a whole lot of time to support him nor my parents, me.
We were married 3 months later, my mom’s good friend baking the tiered cake…..which I ended up doing a balancing act as we made it out to the old farm house where the reception was being held. That was the first time we almost had a fight. I thought he was going too fast and he thought going slow would make it worse. Who knows! By the time we arrived half of the cake had slipped sideways. I was heartbroken, but we propped it up with something and made do. He was so precious to me. He had a way about him that seemed wise, kind and matter of fact. I love that about him. I was wishy-washy, as his mom called me. I just didn’t know what I wanted because I had never been asked what I wanted. I was just told what I wanted and kinda was shoved around, others spoke up for me, so I never learned how to speak or communicate till after I married Jackie. I learned a lot those first few years. He was patient with me.
Before you know it, I was pregnant with our first born boy. I had no idea how to take care of a baby as I was always afraid of babysitting anyone’s kids. I was kinda always afraid of everything. It didn’t take me long to learn and Jackie was a good teacher. I felt loved and appreciated for the very first time in my life. Sweet man.
Fast forward 6 years, Jackie had received his crop duster’s license and was flying over lettuce fields at 2 am in the morning….sleeping during the day and eating breakfast at 7 pm in the evening. He loved it. There was something exhilarating to him when he learned how to overcome different physical obstacles. His eldest son, is like that amazingly so. Jason would challenge himself in the skidder when he was first learning how to use it, by going as high up the steep grade out of the “holler” as possible and then when he could feel the top beginning to tip, he would quickly turn it and drive it back down the slope. I just shook my head as I realized he was a “chip off the ole block.” Praying for his safety.
I was awakened ….startled from a deep sleep one morning, concerned about Jackie which was quite unusual….as I wasn’t a worrier of that type. I called Ron Beren’s Crops dusting office and asked if Jack was alright. The man on the phone said, “Yes, I just heard from him and he will be here shortly, coming in for a landing.” Whew! I let out a sigh of relief, but it still didn’t sit well inside my spirit. Back then I didn’t really know how to pray or intercede for my family, friends or …..really anyone for that matter. I know you were to “stand in the gap” but what did that truly mean?
I had read multiple stories of others who had made a difference as they chose to fast and pray for others and bring amazing results in the Spirit, healings and deliverance all by simply fasting and refusing to “quit.” in their prayers. What was I feeling? I asked the Lord to show me and I prayed a simple prayer, but still was unsettled. We went out that night for dinner. He looked across at me from the table and said, “pray for me!” I asked, “you want to tell me what about?” You should know he retorted.” I didn’t press the matter as I figured he didn’t want to spill his heart right there to me then.
The next morning I was awakened, curlers, in my hair, answering the door in my robe by my husband’s boss. I thought, “this is strange.” He was the bearer of bad news. Jack’s plane had malfunctioned and he fell into a lettuce field ……did a nose dive….and was killed instantly. I was shocked beyond belief. What? This can’t be God’s will? God wouldn’t want these 3 children to grow up without their dad, would He?