One Year---and Counting

December 7, 2014. Champagne breakfast out on the balcony of our stateroom on the Coral Princess. In the Panama Canal. Literally. Waiting for the water to lower so we could enter the next lock. What a unique experience we had on our cruise. There were warm nights with our sliding glass door open to the warm, balmy breeze. The sound of the sea swishing in the Caribbean Sea as the ship sailed. We read books. Were waited on. No making of beds--or turning down the beds either. No cooking. Just call room service and order our coffee. We even participated in a cruise pop choir. Our anniversary cruise was wonderful. 

Coffee on the deck

Sunrise on the east coast

Dress up night

Entering Jamaica--Ocho Rios

On the beach with cruise ship in the background

With our cruise choir director

But I must say no more wonderful than the fact that after each of us lost our loves--and met each other. The odds were rare—or so we both began to think. Both Jim and I experienced a previous engagement with the wrong person. We both realized marriage to that person would have been disastrous. But God in His astounding way, brought us together! Yes, e-Harmony provided the base for our meeting, but it was God who did the major work. There needs to be love and chemistry. Similar likes and dislikes. All the things that make people compatible in a marriage.

Our life together is still in the honeymoon stage. And I hope it stays there. But even if those "drugs" of first love wear off, there will be a solid, beautiful love that will endure during the good and bad times. We both know perfection can only be in Heaven, but we are enjoying our Heaven on Earth. 

We don't know what the future holds. None of us do. But we know we can trust our Savior. He brought us through the very hard times. Is with us in the good, good times. And He'll be there when He takes us home to Him. 

In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy this stage of my life. My husband. My family. This season. Merry Christmas everybody!

Our Christmas tree

Lighted village that Jim built

Three-Hundred Fifty Nine Days

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)

The verse above was the theme for a women's group event at our church several years ago. I was asked to speak at that event and the verse spoke to me like none other had. 

So much so that I decided to use that verse reference to sign my books. At that time, I didn't know I would meet the wonderful man I'm now married to--all 359 days of wonderfulness! At that time, I was recovering from a broken engagement, thinking perhaps I'd never marry again. 

Yet life has it's twists and turns for indeed, I did meet the man of my dreams. That doesn't take away from my previous husbands. For in their time, they too, were the "man of my dreams". That's why it was hard to believe I'd meet and love again like I did. 

This week and next, we're on a trip, celebrating our first anniversary. It's so hard to believe it has been nearly a year, but it is. Just this morning, Jim suggested for our devotions we have each morning,  to read a verse. He picked it. Guess what it was? Yes! It was the above verse!!

I want to say, dear reader, that the God of hope spoken above was the same God who filled me with all joy, peace, and hope. When I was widowed and when my engagement was broken off. When I was recovered from that loss and I was trying to be content alone. 

In my case, God answered my desires for a husband. He may not do that for you. You might be in a difficult marriage. You may have never been married. Perhaps you're divorced and didn't want to be in that state. This verse is for each of you. Take it as your own. And enjoy the overflowing hope the Holy Spirit gives you. 

I am certainly going to do that. I don't know what's around the next bend. But right now, on this anniversary trip, I will enjoy the state I'm in. And acknowledge it was the God of Hope who brought my Jim to me.

On a different trip at Epcot Center

Old Hymns and Thanksgiving too

Thanksgiving Day. 2005. It was the last Thanksgiving where all of the Bill Rudberg clan celebrated that holiday with Bill. But we really weren't together, for Bill was in the hospital....It was November 21, 2005....

On November 21, our grandson Caleb's fifth birthday, Bill was admitted to the hospital. The hours crawled by. We hardly knew what day it was, when two familiar faces appeared at the door to the hospital room. "Thought you needed a real holiday meal," grinned Erika, as she and Bill's mom brought in a steaming basket filled with turkey and all the fixings from their Thanksgiving dinner. 

On Saturday morning the female hospital chaplain prayed with us and read Scripture. I wept as she read and prayed. "Our Father, please help Bill and Shirley as they cope with this illness. Be their strength and song during this difficult time."

...I sat by his bedside while my husband slept. I felt the darkness of the room closing in around me, as despair clenched my heart. Then, note by note, I caught the sounds of singing.

Precious Lord, take my hand.

Lead me on, through the night.

I am tired, I am weak, I am worn;

Thro' the storm, thro' the night,

Lead me on to the light--

Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.

The rich alto voice continued to lift old hymns. I stood, amazed, and followed the songs down the hall. A few doors down, I glanced into a darkened room and saw a black woman, wearing a black and white dress, sitting in a bedside chair.

She would never know the comfort she gave a neighbor that evening. I tiptoed back to Bill's room, knowing I was not alone......

May your Thanksgiving Day be filled with wonder and hope, as mine was that day nine years ago.

(Excerpt from Second Chances, At Life and Love, With Hope, c 2012, Shirley Rudberg Graybill)

Grieving Life

Last weekend Jim and I attended a marriage conference at Cannon Beach. I wondered if we'd be the oldest couple married the least amount of time. We weren't the oldest, for there was a couple married 63 years--and this was their first ever marriage conference! There was a couple--considerably younger than us--who were married only four months. 

At the conference, there was a lot we'd heard before. There were new concepts to learn. One was: "We're grieving life." 

"That's depressing one might say." No. Since Adam and Eve chose to disobey, there's been a grief of what might have been. 

I was feeling sad. Because I was a nearly one year bride? No. I was sad because of what might have been. I wished I'd had some of the tools we were given at this conference when I was a nineteen year old bride. I wished I'd had them when I was a thirty-something woman who was in a dysfunctional marriage that might have better with some of these tools. But that was not to be. 

I remember the first time I suffered grief when I should have been happy. I was walking down the aisle, after being pronounced "wife" to my late husband, Bill. Why was I sad? I couldn't put my finger on it and soon the sadness passed. Later, I read having those feelings of grief were natural. I was grieving my life as it was. Now I was moving into a new life. It was wonderful. But it was new. And that's grief.

I've found there are many types of grief. The stark grief of losing someone in death. The lesser grief of a broken engagement. The grief of an empty nest. The grief of time, slipping away. The grief of realizing there'll not be anymore new grand babies, just great-grandbabies. The grief of a beautiful scene.

I'm glad I attended the seminar. I love my life. My husband. But.....there's still that niggling, lost feeling that wiggles its way into my being. Grief. 

When we go to Heaven, we'll not experience grief anymore. That is a gift I'm looking forward to. Just not yet. 

Three Hundred Thirty Days

    Yes. It has been three-hundred thirty days today since we each said “I do”. Is life just as magical as it was since the first hundred days? Yes. 

Instead of celebrating yearly anniversary dates—we’ve only had one so far—our first date, we celebrate days! It might be our tenth month anniversary of our wedding. It might be the first time we said “I love you” to each other. It doesn’t matter. It’s that we’re together in the now.

Are there times when little nigglings of fear creep into each of our thoughts? Yes! But we openly speak of it rather than stuffing it down into our subconscious. We pray that God will grant us many years together. But we know each of our lives are in God’s hands, not ours. We must trust in the God who loves us more than we love each other or ourselves. So we do just that. We trust. 

We both know the awfulness of death and separation from a loved one. We both know the precious comfort of our Lord and Savior, Jesus to be ever-present in the worst possible times of loss. 

We say goodnight to each other as we drift off to sleep. “See you in the morning.” Jim will say.

I say. “You better be here!” in a teasing voice, yet serious about that admonition.

Jim still wants to make me a perfect cup of coffee and each morning when I take my first sip, he asks, “How’s the coffee?” If I don’t say it’s perfect, he will muse how he can make it better.

Three-hundred thirty days. Thank you God, for bringing Jim into my life! He is perfect for me and I believe Your choice for me. At this time. On this day. Until You bring each of us home to You. We will enjoy the time we have together. 

Happy 330th day, sweetheart!

Mountain Climbs and Other Thoughts

It has been just over a year I made my eleventh climb up Mt. St. Helens. Ten times I summited with my late husband, Bill. This time, my special climbing partner was someone new. Jim.

In the past, Bill was always the leader for the climb and was gifted in leading many expeditions. He made sure everyone was as safe as could be. Last year, our climb leader had a very different leading style than Bill's. We were pretty much on our own. At one point, we got off the trail and found ourselves among even larger rocks and cliffs. We soon found our way back and the rest of the climb up was uneventful. At the top my daughter, Erika and her two sons, Andrew, age 14 and Caleb nearly 13 were waiting for us. We snapped our cameras marking the day. Ate our lunches and rested, knowing soon we would need to start our descent.

Going down is really almost more difficult that going up. Your quads are shaky and tired. Your ankles are wobbly from the constant balancing that must be done to battle against gravity and the rocky ground. While we all started down at the same time, Erika, Andrew and Caleb got ahead of us and soon it was just Jim and I.

When descending, I was in front and at one point, I heard a gasp and a loud thump. Jim was on a narrow ridge and he turned around, forgetting his back pack added extra bulk and the pack hit the rock wall beside the trail. Jim lost his balance and fell six feet to some rocks below. We sat for a few minutes and I silently prayed Jim was not seriously injured. After a few minutes rest, he seemed better and we continued our slow climb down. Later, he told me he had a dinner plate sized purple bruise on his backside to prove it was a substantial fall.

It was early evening when we arrived at the climber's bivouac. The warm fall day turned into a chilly, fall evening. We were grateful for the warm car and plans for a hot bath to soothe tired muscles and a good hot dinner before bed.

I've been thinking about that climb which took place just over a year ago. I realize life is similar to mountain climbs. There are the wonderful exhilarating sights at the top. There are long days slogging up to the summit. Just as in life, we experience wonderful highlights as well as lots of dull trudging up the trail and hard work. Sometimes we feel like we're all alone. Like when Jim and I were off track and he fell. Other times, we have excellent leadership and in life we truly sense God's presence and comfort.

Shouldn't life just be easy and trouble free? That might be what we'd like. Or would we? It's those hard times that we truly depend on God to help us through the rough patches. And make us stronger. The rocky slopes. The loss of balance and mishaps that happen to everyone. I'm glad I have those experiences to look back on. They remind me when life is not so easy who I can depend on. The good times are the times we can bask in the sunlight and just enjoy, knowing it won't always be.

Right now, life is good. But I don't  know what's around the corner and will trust in my Savior to be my guide--whether the climb is easy and uneventful. Or difficult where we feel alone. I'm so glad my life--and the events surrounding my life--are in my Savior's hand. He is there in the highs and lows. May you, too, sense the loving Savior--at the top of the mountain. And the trudge back down.

Jim and Shirley at the summit

On top with Andrew, Jim, Shirley, Erika, Caleb

Another view of Mt. Adams

Traveling. With a partner. So much better!

I've traveled a lot in the past five years. With my late husband, Blair. Sometimes with a friend--or two. Sometimes alone. Since Jim and I married just ten months ago, we've traveled together. I like this way the best.

Here's why it's better:
In the airport, there's luggage and bags to leave while you go to the restroom.
There's a partner to hold your stuff while you get your pass, your ticket, your water, your food.
There's someone else to spot the signs--gate numbers, street signs, restaurants.
Someone to hold your hand on take offs and landings.

It's a whole new adventure to share with someone who loves you. Today, we used the metro in Washington DC for the third day and felt so very confident. We trundled our luggage onto the fast moving train, looked for the Amtrak signs and got in line. "There's track 26 to New York." I said to Jim. While waiting in line, I saw a young college student, a retired woman traveling to Connecticut, a Hasidic Jew with a large black hat and side curls. A tall African American who looked like he was a basketball player.

Seeing Washington DC for the third time has been even more meaningful. We viewed the actual Constitution, Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights. We observed the US Navy's celebration of their birthday--October 9--with a moving color guard, a fervent prayer, and a laying of a wreath for missing sailors who gave their lives for our country. We visited the Pentagon and the 9-11 Memorial. It was sobering to see the benches for each person--184--who died that terrible day. The benches were divided by the year each person was born. The dates ranged from 1930 to the youngest, 1998. It was humbling to see.

There was so much more....Now we're on our way to New York City. I'm excited and a little nervous about visiting the Big Apple. But I won't be alone. You see, I have my partner, my lover, my husband. I am grateful.

Dear Mama, Happy Birthday!

Dear Mama,
It's October 3rd today and time to send you a letter. Oh, I know you don't live here on earth anymore. No, you're in heaven, experiencing much joy. But selfishly, I miss you! I want to tell you the news. You've been freed from your body and were escorted to your heavenly home nearly four years now. I remember that day.....

“I’m sorry. She’s gone.” The caregiver told me. I followed him to my mother’s room. There she was in the chair. Head back. Eyes closed. Mouth open. She could have been asleep but for the stillness of her body. No more quiet, rhythmic movement of her hand that had been affected by the Parkinson’s disease. Her chest was still. She was now breathing heavenly air. The verse ran through my mind. 

Precious in His eyes is the homecoming of the saints.

Rose was home. To her eternal one. She had been content to be here on earth those 93 years....

Thirteen days earlier, she seemed to be signing out. She wasn’t planning her days anymore. She graciously allowed others to decide for her. She dutifully opened her mouth to take in food she was urged to eat. She sat in the recliner in the sitting area with the other residents, the big screen TV blasting loudly. Most of the residents couldn’t hear very well. Mom could, though. 

Canned laughter spilled from the television. A situation comedy was playing. The dialogue was embarrassing for me to hear with my mother there. We didn’t talk about those things so frankly and openly. I was frustrated with the choice of programs.

“Can’t we put something else on”? I asked the Russian caregiver. “I think they’d enjoy something besides this program.”

“Ve let the patients pick their own program.” She said in broken english. That frustrated me, for they most likely couldn’t see the remote control to change the channel or didn’t know how. It’s hard to communicate with someone who is not familiar with the english language. I was grateful for the kind care my mother received, but this bothered me. I was nearly sure neither of the patients wanted to hear dialogue about live-in couples or alternative life-style situation comedies. I didn’t think it’d hurt to help them find another program such as “The Waltons” or “Little House on The Prairie”. The caregiver most likely didn’t even know of those programs.

My mother, Rose dozed off in her chair as we sat there. “Mom, would you like me to read to you or would you rather rest here?” I normally read one of my stepson, Greg’s, Sunday sermons. Today, though, she seemed so tired. I resigned myself to watching her snore and sleep. Rose roused herself from her drug-induced sleepiness.

“Let’s go to my room.”

“Are you sure? It’s ok if we just sit in here.”

“No. I want to go to my room.” She said firmly.

As the caregiver and I helped Mom in her wheelchair to go down the hallway, she said slowly and breathlessly, “I don’t want you... to forget.”

“Forget what?”

“To...read...to me.” 

So I read to her.  Last Sunday’s sermon was titled,  “The Resurrection and the Life” based on John 15. I read to her and she affirmed with frequent "yeses" for the points given throughout the sermon. It was as though it were written just for her--and me. My voice broke as I read to her. I realized soon, very soon, she would not be here on Earth anymore...

I read more. "We look not at our circumstances, but upon God’s promises. For it is God’s word that creates reality, and he has told us what is going on with us. Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"

27 "Yes, Lord," she told him, "I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who was to come into the world." (John 14:25-27).

I continued to read to her from Greg’s sermon. “I believe – this is in the perfect form grammatically, meaning completion. Belief is not an ongoing tenuous thing, like a radio signal that fades in and out. No, it is a decision elicited by the Holy Spirit in the hearing of the Gospel, resulting in a new birth. You have either been born, or you have not. You have either been born again, or you have not....” 

“Yes.” Mom said in her quavery voice, re-affirming her beliefs again.

“It will be good to be in heaven, won’t it?”

“Yes.”

“You’ll get to see your own mother again--and dad.” At age seventeen, she had lost her mother as a result of a sudden brain aneurysm, leaving four children without their mother.

“Yes.”

I usually didn’t talk about death with Mom. She had always looked to her future on earth while living, though she firmly believed in life eternal with Christ. I continued, reminding her of what was to come. “And you’ll see my dad, won’t you?” She nodded her head. I sensed, though I’m not sure if she did or not, that this would be the last time I spoke with her.

I bent down to hug her frail, bony body, sitting in her recliner. “Good-bye Mom.” I’ll see you Friday. Remember, Joyce (my sister) will be down to see you.”

“Yes.” She said again. Her words were few that day.

“Good-bye, Mom.”

“Good-bye, dear child.”

......Three days later, I looked one last time at my mother, sitting there in her chair, so very still. No longer here on earth, she was home at last. I’ll see you later, Mama, in heaven!

Mom celebrating her 90th birthday with three of her five children
Left to right: Shirley, Rose, Betsy and Eileen

I miss you, Mama, but I know I'll see you again. It says in the Bible that you so frequently read and taught each of us this verse: Rejoice that your names are written in heaven. (Luke 10:20).I know my name is there, so I'll see you later. Happy birthday!!

Birthdays....Dates.....and Such

Birthdays are always special to me. Especially mine. As a child, Mom would make a special meal and for dessert, cake, of course! My grandpa and grandma would usually be there, journeying some eighty miles. I loved it when my birthday fell on a Sunday. No school with lots of attention at church.

My tenth birthday fell on a Sunday. A brilliant sun was out with deep blue skies. Most early May days were like that. After church on this day, we went to the zoo. I'm certain Mom and Dad gave me a gift. But the one I remember the most--and still possess--was a brand new zippered King James  Bible. It had both testaments in it and best of all, lots of pictures.  There was one of Adam and Eve being ushered out of the Garden of Eden. Noah and his ark. Daniel in the lion's den. David killing Goliath. The New Testament featured pictures of Jesus healing the sick. Teaching. Loving children. Dying on the cross. There was a picture of the empty tomb. Many times when my mind wandered at church, I looked at those scenes and never tired of seeing them. I used that Bible all through my childhood. There were notes from sermons I took in my childish scrawl. Growing older, they had a more rounded script, the i's dotted with circles. And though I don't use that Bible anymore, it's right there on the shelf.

Though my birthday is in the spring, many of my immediate family members celebrate their day in the fall. Special days in September are the 11th, 17th, 26th and 30th. October has quite a few, too. 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 9th. Today, September 26 is Bill Rudberg's birthday. Bill was my husband of forty years and the father of my children.

Do they celebrate birthdays in heaven? I'm not sure, but I'd like to think so. We're the same person there as we are here. This would be Bill's 9th celebration up there. 

Birthdays are important dates to remember. To honor the person we love and cherish. To show them how much they are loved. I think it's good to remember those who aren't here on earth anymore, too. So today, on September 26, I will remember Bill. Happy birthday, Bill! We remember you. Love you. Miss you. And we'll see you again someday. At the banquet table!

Yellowstone, Old Faithful, and First Dates

One week ago today, we were in Yellowstone National Park enjoying it with our daughter and family along with other students enrolled in a special outdoor school. Two teachers, who were experts in volcanoes and geology gave us many insights where we saw firsthand the many sights at the Park. It was a wonderful time as we enjoyed God's creation. Here are a few of the sights:

Bison, casually grazing right next to our car

Firehole Falls

Yellowstone Lake

Yellowstone Falls

Paint Pots

Thursday, September 4, was a  special day.  It was the first anniversary of our first date. While driving through the national park, we reminisced about the day. It was September 4, 2013, during a meeting that I saw my silenced cell phone brighten up with an incoming call. It had no personal identity, but I noticed it was a 503 area code--the Portland area. Could this be that guy from Corbett? The one whose voice I'd never heard. Whose face I'd only seen in a still photo? I quickly left the meeting to check my messages. Indeed, it was Jim! I called him back and we arranged to meet at a Portland coffee shop at 12:30 pm. I was a little late--it was 12:34--when I walked toward the shop. I scanned the people sitting outdoors and didn't see anyone who resembled Jim. I quickly made my way inside the crowded room to find this Corbett guy. There was a man halfway standing up, peering over the crowd across the room. It looked like it might be my date. I walked up to him and said, "Are you Jim?"

"I sure am!" He said. Quickly he flipped his laptop open, looked at a photo of me, nodded his head as if confirming  it was me displayed on the screen. He stood, offered his hand to shake mine and said. "You must be Shirley! What can I get for you?" We drank our coffee--mine was a cappuccino, he had a latte. We talked and talked and talked. The date lasted for more than two hours. Before we concluded our date, Jim asked for another--and that's part of the story. If you've been reading my blogs, you know that on December 7th, we were married.

Let's fast forward to this September 4, 2014, when we were at Old Faithful in Yellowstone National Park. We pulled into the Visitor's Center and saw that in only 10 minutes, Old Faithful geyser would erupt. We quickly walked out to the site and waited with many other people in the clear sunny skies. Soon, it began smoking and sputtering and in no time, it was spewing hundreds of gallons of water up into the air. People around us were clapping and oohing and ahhing at the sight. Soon, it slowly came to a stop and it was done--for another ninety minutes. As we walked back toward the Visitor Center, Jim looked at his watch. Old Faithful erupted at exactly 1:34 pm, Mountain Time. That meant it was 12:34 pm Pacific Time. One year later, at the exact time of our first meeting Old Faithful erupted and helped us celebrate that wonderful meeting! Was it coincidence? Maybe. But maybe, just maybe, it was just another nod from God and His sense of perfect timing to remind us of His love for us and also remind us how much He loves us as individuals.

Old Faithful, beginning to erupt

Either way. I love the coincidence. Happy first anniversary of our first date, Jim! I'm so glad I said yes!

Celebrating our first at the Bear Pit at Yellowstone Inn

Sleep, blessed sleep

I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD,

make me dwell in safety.

Psalm 4:8

Sleep was never an issue for me until a few years ago. Never in my entire life until I was in my fifties, did I ever live alone. There was always someone dozing somewhere else in any place I lived. That is until my first husband, Bill, died. Then I was alone. I can remember pacing the hall and throughout the house unable to sleep. Not because of fear, but loneliness. Perhaps it was the total silence because there was only one human being--me--in my house. 

The moment I married for the second time, that allusive property--sleep--came back. I could sleep soundly all through the night! It was wonderful, that sleep. Then I was widowed again and had the same experience. I was alone. Again, I paced the house. This one had two floors so I could wander up or down, rather than across. 

Now, I am married again and that blessed sleep has come back to live with me--along with Jim. I am so thankful. "What about me?" You say. "I'm alone." 

I understand. Being alone is hard. That's why I'm including this verse that helped me. And might help you too. 

Here's my wish for you on the eve of the"last" of outdoor weekends. May God grant you peaceful sleep. And if you cannot sleep, may you sense His presence--for He's there!

My grandee Annabel at 18 months--she's now ten years old.

Ice Bucket Challenge and Why I Will Accept the Challenge But Donate to Option 360 Instead

Here's the ice bucket before water was added

The most frequent posts on Facebook lately, have been people accepting the "Ice Bucket ALS Challenge" and having someone dump a bucket of ice water over their heads. They donate $10.00 to the ALS Association and challenge three other people to do the same thing in 24 hours.

I recently read a blog, written by Nathanael King, where he said he could not do the challenge for reasons I very much agree with. He quoted from the ALS Association website the following:

Adult stem cell research is important and should be done alongside embryonic stem cell research as both will provide valuable insights. Only thorough exploration of all types of stem cell research will scientists find the most efficient and effective ways to treat diseases. 

According to Nathanael King, (www.nathanaelk.com), in one clinical trial, which was supported by the ALS Association with a $500,000 grant involved "stem cells...from the spinal cord of a single fetus electively aborted after eight weeks of gestation."

I was challenged by my dear granddaughter, Sarah, to do the ice bucket dump. Because I love her, I don't want to say no. Instead, I say "yes" to the dunking, but I will not donate to the ALS Association. Instead of sending $10.00 to the ALS Association, I will send to the Option 360 in Vancouver. They do not do research on ALS, but they save lives by giving support and free ultrasound to women in a crisis pregnancy. 

I am sure most of the people who are doing the challenge are pro life. Perhaps you still wish to donate. That's fine, but I cannot in good conscience, now that I know. 

Why am I so rigid about this? Because I care about human life. I cannot send money--even $10.00 in good conscience. I will support any organization that supports life--at the very beginning--conception--as well as the very end of life. End of story.

Here I go with the ice dump!

A True Romance--yes--Made In Heaven

     I just submitted a story to e-Harmony, the matching site where Jim and I met. I thought you readers might enjoy a closer look. Let me know what you think.

     After being widowed for two years,I joined e-Harmony. It was very strange to even be looking for a mate after being married for 40 years, but I also did not like being alone. I liked being married!  I joined eHarmony in 2008 but I did not find suitable matches. I let the subscription run out and joined another matching site. There, I successfully met the man of my dreams and we were married six months later. We had a wonderful marriage, but 17 months after we were married, my husband died suddenly of a brain aneurysm. I was devastated and it was after two years, I decided to “put myself out there” to meet someone again. I tried the same matching site (not eHarmony) and met and became engaged. That relationship did not last—he broke off the engagement and in hindsight, I know that was for the best—for we were not a good match. I dated quite a few different men and had a good time, but did not find the right match. There was always something not quite right. Finally, after nearly four years after Blair, my second husband, passed away, I decided to retry E-Harmony. For me, it was a last resort.

I filled out the questions and put my photos on and began the quest to find that perfect match. I was on e-Harmony about two weeks and was frustrated to see several of my unsuccessful dates were also on e-Harmony! There were a few new ones and I was “smiling” and sending questions to one gentleman who seemed a good match—but I thought he was a bit too old. Maybe he’s not too old. I thought. But, truly, he was! A five year difference in ages when you are 67, is a lot! And I was a young 67! I’m sure everyone says that, but that’s what people tell me. I was ready to give up and go ahead with “Mr 73” year old when Jim’s profile popped up in my matches.

Unlike many of the others, Jim’s profile looked perfect for me. His age was good—three years younger—he sounded like a widower—I was looking for that too. Most important, he sounded like he had a strong faith in the Jesus Christ of the Bible. I sent him a smile and he nearly immediately sent a set of questions to let me know his interest. I loved it that he responded so quickly. My frustration was that many took their time in responding to a “smile”. We passed back and forth questions and then he requested to email through e-Harmony. I accepted and he asked if I’d like to meet for some coffee to see “where God might lead”. 

I said, “Sure, let’s email and, yes, I’d love to meet you for coffee!” One day later, Jim called and we made arrangements for Wednesday, September 4, 2013. That coffee date turned into a two hour date. The high point for me of that date was how much he seemed to be that person who was on the web site. I had written a book and that was also in my profile. One of the first things he did after asking me about it was to order it on his computer during our date! No one else had done that. They’d asked about it but that was it. He obviously wanted to get to know me.

We emailed long emails after that for several days. Quite honestly, I googled Jim. It revealed he was who he said he was. The chemistry seemed to be there, too.

Jim received my book that Saturday after our coffee date. He says he read it from cover to cover without getting up. It’s only 190 pages, after all! I got a phone call around 8:00 pm on that Saturday (September 7). Jim said, “Shirley, I just finished your book! You are a wonderful woman. I’d just like to come and give you a hug!” I thanked him and he repeated his request. He really did want to give me a hug. 

I said, “I’m in my pajamas, but I can change clothes if you really want to come.”

“I do! I’ll be there as soon as I can!” Jim lived about 40 minutes away from me and soon, I saw his lights as he drove into my driveway. He did give me that hug—a good one. We talked for several more hours. 

Without going into the full details of our dates in the next few days, I will tell you that Jim asked me to marry him nine days after our first date. Without any hesitation at all, I said yes and I’ve not been sorry! We married December 7, 2013 and our marriage is like one made in heaven. Truly! 

I highly recommend e-Harmony. For those of you looking for a matching service, don’t use e-Harmony as a last resort. Try it first. I’m so glad both Jim and I made that choice.

     

     That's the story! Have a wonderful weekend! I will--with that match made in heaven!

An Eventful Life

"Shirley, you have an eventful life!" Jim said this morning as we clinked our coffee cups together. We raised those cups in acknowledgement of a special date in my life. On August 16, 2008, I was married to Blair Graybill and after 42 years of Rudberg, I became Graybill.

Blair and Shirley in Colorado

I treasure those 113 weeks that I knew Blair Graybill--and the 17 months of marriage. He was my hero and I called him my beloved Boaz. And now, it's time to enjoy the next phase--or event--in my life. Being married to Jim.

He is such a huge blessing to me. We love to talk and reminisce our past lives. And we look forward to the future with our new blended family, with new memories and dreams. I could have continued on with my life as a single woman, but I'm so glad I met Jim. We believe our meeting was all a part of God's plan for our lives. Just as my wedding with Blair six year ago, and before that, my 40 years of marriage with Bill.

Jim and Shirley Mozena

Yes, I've had an eventful life. And it isn't over either! Here we go. Final quarter coming right up!

Final Quarter

Jim and I talk about our "final quarter" of life--and that we need to make the most of it. We're newlyweds and enjoy being married so much, we celebrate weeks and months, not years.

My fiftieth high school class reunion was last weekend. After the big event, I couldn't sleep for I was on overload from meeting so many friends. I would look at a person, not know who they were, ask their name and soon, they would morph into view. I found it was their eyes that brought them into focus for me.

At the reunion, I was disappointed some of my closer friends did not attend. My best friend, Karen, was not there. She was the first death in our class at age eighteen from a tragic car accident. George, a promising young man from my church youth group wasn't there either.  He also died in a car accident--while on leave from his stint in Vietnam. Neither was Patty, a friend who had been a bridesmaid in my first wedding. She died of an accidental gunshot wound. There are rumors she was murdered, but we don't know for sure. Then there was Sharon. A cheerful woman who only two years ago, sent me a note encouraging me during the recent loss of my second husband. I didn't realize she was battling cancer at the time. She, too has entered eternity.

Death and life are very real events in our life and most of the time, we avoid talking about the shortness of life. I've said final goodbyes many times. Two husbands, a stillborn baby girl, parents, best friend, and yet, I am always surprised at someone's final passage into eternity.

Some of my classmates who were on the planning committee.

The apostle Peter reminds fellow Christians some final thoughts about our time on earth:

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms. If anyone speaks, they should do so as one who speaks the very words of God. If anyone serves, they should do so with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ.

I Peter 4:8-11a

Sounds like good advice for someone in her last quarter.

Peace At All Times

Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you. (2 Thessalonians 3:16)

How can we even think about peace with all of what is going on in our world? I get distressed when I read and hear headlines about the terrible treatment of people everywhere! Beheadings in Iraq, abuse of children from Central America and Mexico while trying to come to America, Christians becoming refugees because of their faith, the Middle East a powder keg and then, a seemingly passive response from our government. 

 Sometimes I'd like to just run away from any type of media for I feel so helpless when I hear the news. Yet, we are reminded that "the Lord of peace himself" gives peace at all times. What can one person do in these stressful times? We must do what those people in Thessalonica were commanded to do in light of persecution--for the Christians in that region suffered persecution. They were asked to pray. For deliverance from evil, and continuance of faithfulness in persecution. 

I'm not persecuted as those Christians in Iraq, or those in ancient Thessalonica, but I certainly can pray for them. That they will be delivered from evil--and remain faithful through this persecution. And ask for peace for them.

Simple? Yes. But how often do I--and you too--wring our hands and not do the very thing we're commanded to do: pray! So, let's do it. Let's pray. Each time we hear a distressing story. Each time we see something in God's creation and causes us to see the Maker in creation. And in turn, we will receive peace--at all times.