Are we really going to get Married? 6th in the series.

6

Are we really going to get married?

I graduated high school in May and two weeks later, June 6^th, 1964 turned over on the calendar.

I had saved my money from working at a part time job while going to school. I paid for my own wedding. It cost altogether $155 and change. I had borrowed a wedding dress from a friend and mother made the bridesmaids dresses.  The three-tier cake cost $10 and a lady in the church made the punch for me and decorated the reception hall.

 Mother cried all day and I tried on my wedding dress three times. I went from being so excited I could barely stand myself. to holding onto mother and weeping. At this point it was possibly the most traumatic day of my life. Everything was changing. I would no longer be a teenager in the home protected by mom and dad, but a married woman with a husband.

It all sounds real romantic in the early stages of getting together, the first kiss, the dating, the proposal, but when reality hits it’s rough. I had all kinds of consolers, my older sister who tried to explain what married life was all about. She was on her second husband, so I wasn’t sure she was the right one to advise me. Mother couldn’t do anything but cry and dad was in the tool shed, weeping his private tears. My maid of honor and bridesmaids were all unmarried, so they didn’t have a clue either.

So I thought if I could only see Ron and reassure myself that he was going to be in this with me, and then I would be okay. But the watchdogs at my door would not let him near me. If he tried to call, they refused to let me talk to him. Who invented this stupid rule anyway? All I needed was to hear his voice and I would be okay. But no they said it was bad luck. Give me a break. We were Christians for pity sake. We didn’t believe in bad luck, but for some reason on that one occasion, we would adhere to tradition.

Finally the time came to go to the church, the one-room school house in the country. There was no place to change so I put on  my wedding dress at the house. My oldest sister had sprung for a new hairdo and it looked awful. I finally had to brush it out and do it myself and set the veil. I had on something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. I was ready to go.

 Dad drove us to the church and I sat in the back seat of the car and stared out the window and wondered what kind of life I was entering into. Would Ron and I be happy together? Divorce was out of the question. So it was a forever after situation I was entering into. Did I really know Ron well enough to be getting married? I mean, I thought I did. Did he know me? Would he like me after he found out all my quirks? Too late to be thinking these thoughts. Dad was pulling into the parking lot.

It was full of cars. I was so nervous I was sure I was going to pass out. Dad got a hold of my arm and helped me out of the car and into the church. There was a tiny room at the back, so I was taken there to wait for the music. From that point on, I was in a state of shock. I did what they told me to do. I could hear the chatter of the people in the sanctuary. The little room was crowded with the wedding party. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Panic set in. Was I doing the right thing? I was only 18, what did I know about being married? Maybe I should wait awhile, you know, until I was 21? But it was too late to pull out now. I knew Ron was waiting at the front for me with his best man and the preacher. The building was packed with family and friends. What would they think if I bolted?

My maid of honor, bless her soul, gave me a big hug and said, “Linda, it’s going to be alright. All brides go through the same thing. And you are getting the best man I know. You’ll be happy. Trust me on this one.”

All I could do was nod my head. They adjusted my veil and on cue the music began. A sister in the church thumped out the wedding march on an old upright piano, I followed the bridesmaids, clutching  my daddy’s arm as we went down the aisle together.  I said, “Daddy, do you think I’m doing the right thing?” He said, “I can always walk you back down the aisle and out to the car and we can go home.”

Everybody was staring at me, as I put one foot in front of the other. And when I saw Ronnie Fritch looking so handsome in his new black suit and fresh haircut and a smile for me on his face waiting for me at the altar, I felt much better.

But the evening wasn’t over, and I didn't have a clue what my youth group had planned for me.

I was afraid to care too much

I was afraid to care too much

The date of the wedding was still set and we continued to see each other, but I had detached myself emotionally. I was afraid if I cared too much, he would walk away. Ron continued to tell me he loved me and tried to reassure me but nothing helped. The thought of leaving mom and dad and the security of home made me sad and lonely. And the fact that mother was having a hard time with letting me go didn’t make it any easier.

          My oldest sister, Flossie, came to visit and saw what was happening. She had a talk with mother. She said, “Mom, you’ve got to stop this. You know Linda is going to get married in June and you’ve got to be happy for her and quit this grieving. She’s getting a fine young man and they’ll be okay. They’re going to be living in Shawnee, so you can see her every day.”

          Mother said, “But it won’t be the same.”

          “It never is when they leave home and get married, but you can’t keep her here forever.  I know it’s always the hardest when the last one goes, but it’s what parents have to face. So get a hold of yourself and let’s help her plan a wedding.”

          After the pep talk, things got better and mother began to at least outwardly show interest in the coming day. Dad was moping around too and would go out to his tool shed at the back of the house to keep his hands busy while he silently grieved.  My sister had a talk with him but he resented her bossiness and dealt with his sorrow in his own way.

          My dad had a rough life. His parents emigrated from Germany and settled in Iowa. He was born in the United States. They were a hard working family and every child had to pull their weight. By the time my dad was able to hold the reins, he was working the fields with a plow horse. He worked from sun up to sun down and was never allowed to complain. He had a sixth grade education but was the smartest man I know.  He was a quiet man but when he had something to say, he said it and everyone listened.

          My dad was not a born again Christian until I was sixteen.  But he was a good man and his word was his bond. I guess it was hard for him to see his need of salvation. But one Sunday morning I was privileged to witness my dad walk the aisle and accept the Lord into his life.  My dad wasn’t a drinker but he chewed tobacco. But after his conversion, he gradually weaned himself off of it and his health improved.

          My mother’s life was not easy as well. Her family made a living by share cropping. Grandmother made her a small sack and at the age of six she went into the fields picking cotton. They moved so much following the harvest, her education was sketchy but she managed to get an eighth grade certificate.  She accepted the Lord at a Brush Arbor revival meeting and served him faithfully until the end of her days. She had much heartache through life, but it did not make her bitter. She was kind and loving and adored her children.

          Joining your life with someone else is a serious matter. Divorce was not in our vocabulary. It was not an option if things got tough, so you better be sure you have the right one before you go into it. This was our thinking and why we prayed and struggled with the decision. Finally all the issues were resolved and countdown to the big day began.

Linda's Lunacy: Do you think it's really the will of the Lord?

Linda's Lunacy: Do you think it's really the will of the Lord?: Do you think it’s really the Will of the Lord?           We had been dating for a few months and the closer it came to June the 6 t...

Do you think it's really the will of the Lord?

Do you think it’s really the Will of the Lord?

          We had been dating for a few months and the closer it came to June the 6^th the date we had set for our wedding, Ron started acting strange. He began withdrawing and when we were out to eat or going to church, he was distant, not talking much.

          I was getting concerned over the way he was acting. So one night I said to him, “Ron is everything okay?”

          He was quiet for a long time and finally he said, “Marriage is a big step and I just want to make sure we’re doing the right thing.”

          I felt a blow to my heart. He was getting cold feet and was going to back out. I just knew it. A sense of rejection came over me but I tried not to show it. I said, “Yes, it’s a big step. But we felt like it was the Lord right, that’s why we set the date?”

          “Yes, but I think I might have been hasty in asking you. We really hadn’t known each other that long. I’m going to pray about it some more and see what the Lord has to say.”

          By this time I was getting angry. He was going to pray about it and then let me know if it was the Lord’s will or not. Well, he wouldn’t be the only one praying, I would be praying too. And if I felt like it wasn’t right, then I would tell him.

          He left that night and at that point I wasn’t too sure I wanted to ever see him again. So I declined his offer to go to church with him or see him.  I told him I was giving him some space so he could pray and figure out what he felt like the Lord wanted him to do.

          It was a tough time. I cried some over it and actually began to think what I should do rather than get married at this time. I wanted to go to Bible College. It had been a desire of mine to study the Scriptures further. I had been called to preach since I was sixteen and had been active in the ministry. I had held several revivals, youth camps, youth services, fellowship meetings, and numerous regular church meetings. My pastor at the time was a good promoter and he had a lot of contacts, so he helped me get open doors. 

          I had a full ministry of my own and stayed busy along with going to school and trying to finish my senior year. When Ron started acting funny, I thought well maybe it’s not God’s will for me to marry so young. My parents didn’t really have the money to send me to college, but I had heard of small colleges where the tuition wasn’t too high and I could work my way through.

          So while he was praying all night long and fasting, I was preparing. If he dumped me, then I would have an alternate plan. I went through an intense time of feeling rejected. Why did he bother to ask me to marry him if he wasn’t sure? It just didn’t make sense to me. I really felt in my heart we were meant for each other but if he backed away out of fear, there was nothing I could do about it.

          This carried on for a while. I did accept a date to go to a revival or out to eat, but it was always strained. One night we had been out and he was unusually quiet. Sitting in front of our house, he said, “Let’s pray about it together.” So we started praying and the presence of the Lord came into that car in a glorious way. It was a stillness, a warmth and a loving spirit. We were awed by it. But even that wasn’t enough for Ron. He was still tormented by it.

          He walked me to the door and left without a kiss goodnight. I didn’t see him again for several days. My thoughts were it was over. And I was so inclined to just call him up and tell him we should move on with our lives. But the Lord instructed me to wait.

          Ron phoned again and once more we went out. The same coldness and distance was there.  When we got back to my house, he walked me to the door and standing in the dark on my mother’s front porch, he said, “I just can’t find peace about us getting married. I’ve prayed all night several nights and fell asleep on the altar. And I just can’t get a clear word.”

          I never said a word to him, because I had prepared myself for this moment but I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks. I knew in losing Ronnie Fritch I would be losing something precious and valuable in my life. And while we stood there on the old board porch, the same presence of the Lord that had come into the car a couple a weeks before hovered over us. Ron didn’t move for a long time, not saying a word and then he reached for me and drew me into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I got nervous about the responsibility of marriage but clearly the Lord has placed his approval on it.”

          I went inside the house but I couldn’t shake the insecurity his wavering had created. Now, that he was sure, I wasn’t. My bedroom had a big window and if I pulled back the curtains, I could watch the moon and the stars in the midnight sky. I lay there that night with the curtains pulled back and thought about my life.

          I was the youngest of seven children. My four brothers and two sisters had all married and moved away. I was the only child left at home. I was eighteen and had a passion to do something for the Lord. I prayed, read the Bible and witnessed to the kids at school. I was youth leader in my church and taught a Sunday school class. I held quite a few revivals and really enjoyed it. I couldn’t play the piano, although I had a desire to and I sang a little but wasn’t very good at it. My main gifting was to preach. I loved it and was intensely excited when I got an open door. If I didn’t get married, I would go into full time evangelism or go to Bible College. Now that he was sure, I wasn't.