Intrusive Change
Now yoked together after a late August wedding and honeymoon, the newlyweds began the process of meshing their lives while completing their studies. Soon, Mandy realized that her yoke mate was not a fellow ox but a prize bull. One of his first purchases for the two of them was a very large, powerful, white BMV motorcycle. A friend of his had a black one. They —he and his friend, that is— enjoyed racing on nearly abandoned highways late at night. Jack was a daredevil who often wandered into danger zones.
At speeds over 100 MPH and not always in a sober frame of mind, the motorcyclists would defy fate, and God graciously permitted their folly. What sort of madness drove their behavior? Was it only their youth, or was it an obsession to cheat death? Of course, God was the one who would make that call. Usually he let Jack play with fire without getting burned. But not always.
One night Jack and some friends went “down south” for some revelry. The college was in a “dry” town only a half hour from another town that sold beer. While “south” they encountered a notorious gang of brothers who had a reputation as roughnecks to uphold. They were not college boys. Whatever was said—it may have had to do with Jack’s height— a brawl ensued, and Jack could barely walk up the stairs to his second floor apartment later that night. He had been badly beaten and kicked hard and steadily in the groin area. There was some question as to whether he would be able to resume his married life. However, things worked out all right because by the time they graduated, Mandy was expecting their first child.
In the fall, they both went to work as school teachers in the town where our parents lived, but this settled lifestyle only lasted a year despite their happiness in it. Jack especially liked coaching and was well loved by his students, and Mandy was popular as an art teacher. Our mom became the daycare provider.
Meanwhile, Jack’s parents had sold the liquor store and moved to Florida. Their tales of the life there and enthusiastic invitations lured the young marrieds, with their first daughter, MariLynn, to the paradise. MariLynn was a garden of delights, but Florida held no resemblance to Eden. It was a good life for retirees, but for young working people, the pay scale and job opportunities were unhelpful.
Jack taught school and, on the side, sold motorcycles and cleaned palm trees—a risky job since rats would sometimes build nests in the leaf clusters. Mandy stayed home with the baby.
After a year of the heat and one hurricane, they took off for a vacation in the Smoky Mountains near where they had honeymooned. While there, a Realtor of no mean skill suggested they move to the area. Jack could certainly sell mountain land with his knack for salesmanship (the man was a quick study), and as they could see, Western North Carolina was truly paradise.
Having now broken the hearts of two sets of grandparents in two states, they settled in the Smokies which became the vacation site for years to come of both families, not so much to see the blue mountain ridges, but the blue eyes of the three granddaughters who were born at three-year intervals. But that is getting ahead of the story.
Until they settled in North Carolina there had been little time for deep reflection. New experiences clamored for attention; first, being newly wed, then newly pregnant, then first-time school teachers, then first-time parents. The new Florida environment, new friends and new activities held them on the surface of life, not permitting time for reflection.
They had been transients and starry-eyed graduates. Party people. Now they were residents without roots in a place where families could trace their ancestry back to the first settlers in the region. They were intruders, but they worked hard not to be. Mandy taught in the elementary school, Jack sold real estate, MariLynn went to day care, and they got to know their neighbors.
Life settled into a routine, and they began to feel at home. But something was missing... What was it?... Church! Yes, a lifetime habit ingrained from babyhood cannot be permanently broken. Mandy missed not going to church so she began attending the one Presbyterian church in the small town of 3,000 people. Jack enjoyed other pursuits on Sundays, sometimes working, or maybe hunting and enjoying the day with new-found friends. Jack never met a stranger.
The Presbyterian Church was different from the ones Mandy had been part of in the various communities where she had lived as a child and teenager. One lady boldly proclaimed, “I’m a Christian, not a Churchian!” The mountain folks were friendly and “on fire” for Jesus Christ. This may have been partly because they had a pastor who had become a believer in mid-life. He had attended the seminary in his late thirties, and was now a new pastor at around forty. He understood the difference between true faith and intellectual assent, and he preached from his heart, entreating his congregation to open themselves to really know Jesus Christ and make a full commitment to serve him. It made Mandy angry.
Here was a man who had been in the Church only several years while she had been in it all her life, and he wanted to know if she was certain she was going to heaven. Imagine the gall! He said that it was possible for people to know whether they would be with Christ when they died, and that if they didn’t have that assurance, then they were not Christians.
The assurance was not based on works or creeds, baptism or church going. It meant having a living relationship with God, made possible through accepting that his Son’s death on the cross gained a pardon for one’s own sins. And it meant surrendering one’s will to Christ.
This was not exactly a new slant on the message of faith Mandy had always heard from the pulpit. The sermons she had heard stressed various Scriptures and invited contemplation and obedience to Christ’s teachings, but the idea of having a living, personal relationship with Christ and making him Lord of her life was upsetting. Had she not been thinking right about God?
Around this time it also began to bother her that despite all she had to be grateful for, she was still empty inside. Now why, with her handsome husband, beautiful child and nice home, did she feel empty? Someone was opening her ears, causing her to see things in a new light.
After wrestling within her spirit for some weeks, she finally acknowledged to herself and within God’s hearing that she had no assurance that she would be with him at her death, and she desired to have that knowledge. However, as she prayed that God would do whatever was needed to bring her into a living relationship with himself, promising to submit herself to his lordship, she also added that she hoped she would not lose her husband over her new life in Christ. Somehow she knew that this new commitment into which she was entering would pull her in a higher direction, away from the lifestyle she and Jack enjoyed as a couple, what the apostle Paul would have called ‘living according to the flesh,’ not led by the Spirit.
God would honor this prayer. Not only did he give her a new life in Christ and assurance of her complete and eternal safety in him, he also gave her continual, fresh help and guidance to live with her husband who did not understand at all what had happened inside his wife’s mind and heart.
And he gave her a spiritual convert—me. While my commitment to Christ had been made in an elementary way, I was somewhat like the Apollos of Acts who spoke of the Lord “with great fervor” but “knew only the baptism of John.” (Acts 18:25) My admiration for Christ was immense and sincere, but I did not realize that he wanted to be in a relationship with me as my Lord and Master. I had never fully entrusted my life to him, even though I was convinced of his right to be worshipped and adored. There was an impasse which needed to be bridged by a new and deeper understanding.
Thus, when my sister challenged me as she had been taught, her pastor’s influence extended beyond his flock. Now, we were sisters in Christ, which is a far stronger bond than being merely siblings. Blood may be thicker than water, but the communion of saints is an even richer vein.
Among fellow believers, though miles may separate them, there is no distance at all between their hearts. There is a closeness that marriage itself cannot equal, unless both husband and wife are in Christ.
Together over the phone, during visits, and separately, we began praying for Jack to join us. But he was a very slow learner. He was slow of heart.