Stories Old And New

Last week we went back 50 years to Jan's sister's wedding in 1974. Let's go back one more year to the summer of 1973. I had just finished my junior year year of high school. I was the pitcher for our Osky 1 church softball team #2. Phil and Phyllis came to our game with a friend of Phyllis. They introduced me to Jan who had just graduated from high school. After the game, the 4 of us went for ice cream.

Jan rode with me on my Honda 450CL motorcycle. She must have been brave. As we visited, I was impressed with two things. She was cute. And she knew so much about farming. We had a blissful summer. Wow. I was content to date that girl forever.

However, that was the problem. I had no plan. All I knew was farming. I hadn't dated any other girl other than hanging out at social events. I wasn't taught to share my feelings. I was just plain boring! And come harvest time 1973, Jan broke up with me.

 

P.S. Notice our southern border wall near San Luis, Arizona in the picture below while the farmer is deep ripping a lettuce field with his 8R370 on metric tires.

It's not cool for a guy to say, but I was heartbroken. The following week my Dad and I were custom combining for Ivan and Hazel east of Oskaloosa. I swore I'd never date that girl again. However I found myself praying for her and her safety just about every day. I tried dating other girls a time or two. It just wasn't the same. Christmas/73 came and went. Then Jan's sister Donna and Arlin's wedding in March/74. Then around Easter time I had gone to Central Reformed Church on a Sunday night with Valerie when Jan smiled at me and said hello.

The rest is history (His-story for sure). I asked her out again. I graduated from high school. We went "steady", and she wore my big class ring with yarn woven through it, even at her job as check-out girl at Fareway. We had a short engagement. We got married. And 49 years ago this past week I left Central Reformed Church with my bride, a pickup full of snow, and a heart full of dreams.

This past week we have spent in Arizona enjoying each others company. And remembering and celebrating those first years farming side by side together. Then droughts, kids, 80s, farming crisis, faithful landlords, bad and good bankers, patient crop input suppliers, sick hogs, Jan's back troubles from carrying heavy seed corn bags, and customwork to diversify so we could stay farming.

This past Monday, after staying in Yuma, AZ, we left early and were in Old Mexico by 7am. We met our friend Israel, had chips and salsa with coffee at a local cafe, got my boots polished, went to a pharmacy for things like antibiotics, Prednisone, Ivermectin, and anything grandkids might need. And pure Mexican vanilla.

Yes, that vanilla changed our day. When you return to the USA you have to go through customs one at a time. Jan went first. The border patrol asked about her purchases. She told him medications and vanilla. One year Jan told him "drugs", and the border guy said, "you mean medications, right Mamm?" He asked Jan what she was going to do with the vanilla. She told him cook for others. Wrong answer. She was detained behind a locked gate. I was next. Same answer, meds and vanilla. Not knowing Jan's answer I was asked what I was going to do with that vanilla. I told him I was looking forward to giving it to all the gals in my family. Again, wrong answer. And I was put in that same holding room as Jan. Honestly, we were escorted out of customs, back to Old Mexico, and told to get rid of the vanilla.

I grinned as I thought about the irony of our choices. We could buy a ladder and climb the wall like so many others. Or we could cross the Rio Grande River with the 890,000 illegals every year, and be welcomed to the USA. Or we could return the vanilla. After returning the vanilla, we again went through USA customs. When I was asked this time what I was going to do with all that antibiotics and Ivermectin, I said it was all for my personal use. Right answer. Welcome home.

Every year we come here, we go to a different part of the wall. Inevitably we will encounter a border patrol. Because most vehicles driving slow along the wall are waiting for visitors from Mexico with ladders. It's always an amazing visit. The officers are friendly and honest. When asked, Sergeant V. told us he encounters illegals every day. Most are finger printed. The bad guys come alone and are usually ready to fight. It's a fact Venezuela is emptying their prisons. Many are currently coming from Russia and China. The countries we're not friendly with will not allow us to send their folks back home.

Back to present day, feel good stories. What fun to catch up with Pastor Tom and Erin in Yuma. And hear about Tom's 6 week work trip to Sierra Lione and Liberia. While enjoying pizza. We are looking forward to them and their camper staying with us during Tulip Time week in May.

KC was a joy to get to know. She's the gal at Texas Roadhouse that comes around and asks if everything is ok. She has a husband that is a helicopter mechanic for the border patrol. They have 7 children in Christian school. Her father is the voice of conservative radio in Yuma, AZ and has a talk show. I was able to have an enjoyable conversation with him by text.

So what's my point this morning? I'm not sure I have one that ties everything together. A week away is so good for me. To appreciate my wife. To miss all six of our kids and their spouses. To have time to think just how big a blessing it is to have to have grandchildren that are just starting their life's stories. To remember the stories when it seems nothing works out. And celebrating the stories when it feels everything is working out. Our life's story + God's provision and redemption = His-story (history) And you and I have a purpose with stories in this part of history "for such a time as this".