Thoughts on family life
They are another year older, a few inches taller, and increasingly delightful.
Lord, make known to them the path of life and fill them with joy in Your presence. Psalm 16:11
Surround them with Your favor as a shield. Psalm 5:12
Keep them as the apple of Your eye and hide them in the shadow of Your wings. Psalm 17:8
Oh Lord, hear the prayers from this Nonnie’s heart. Amen.
Once upon a time, two fresh-faced, newly-married kids dreamed of going on the road and becoming the next big Christian recording artists. But, alas, free-will offerings at potluck dinners and mother-daughter banquets didn’t pay the bills. So the dream died.
Forty-five years later, they looked back and saw the beautiful truth—
God had a better dream.
When those lovebirds drove away from their wedding reception in their red Pinto station wagon on August 25, 1979, they had no idea what was in store. It would be an amazing adventure!
Still is!
* Family photo by Mike Gorski
PB and I took a little road trip.
We didn’t go very far.
We weren’t gone for very long.
That’s our kind of adventure.
We went to a band concert in a park.
We toured a breathtaking religious site.
We walked through a historical homestead.
We overlooked a river at flood stage from a bluff.
We ate steak and shrimp at a good old fashioned supper club.
The highlight, for me, was a stop at the largest used book store in the state, with over half a million books.
Be still, my heart.
After perusing dusty titles for the better part of an hour, I stumbled on a treasure—literally. A stack of volumes on the floor tripped me up. And I’m so glad they did.
The Harvard Classics were compiled in 1909 by Charles W. Eliot, Harvard University President. He proposed that anyone who would commit to reading this “Five-Foot Shelf of Books” would be exposed to the greatest works ever written and be duly educated.
Sign me up.
The complete 50-volume set is available on Amazon—for $1300. The new books have shiny fake-leather covers and clean, crisp pages.
In that used bookstore I found my treasure at 95.4% off the Amazon price! The covers were faded and the pages were musty. Perfection!
It took me a while to track down PB in that gigantic maze of a bookstore. But when I did and he saw the glimmer in my eye, he knew. A treasure at a bargain price cannot be denied. Now I just need him to put up a five-foot long shelf in my office.
I’m hoping to open Dante’s Divine Comedy or Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and find a few hidden $20 bills from 1909. Even if I don’t, the true treasure is the joy of reading and learning from the old books.
Volume 1, here I come.
We’re half-way through 2024.
I’m gonna take a little time out to
play at the beach with grands,
go on a roadtrip with PB,
dance at some weddings,
and gather at a couple reunions.
Glory days!
This is my grandfather, J. Frank Bradley.
Isn’t he handsome?
He was born on June 5, 1886.
Yesterday would have been his 138th birthday.
He died in 1966, just nine months after my grandma passed.
It was said he died of a broken heart.
I don’t remember much about the man. I have no recollection of sitting on his lap for a story or playing peek-a-boo or even hearing him laugh. I was at the tail end of his line of grandchildren so he was already elderly when I came along. I faintly recall Grandpa Bradley’s baritone voice leading the “Doxology” at family Thanksgiving meals. Maybe that’s why I pulled this old hymnal down from the shelf this week. It’s a treasured possession.
The hymnal was gifted to J. Frank when he retired from singing in the church choir after 40 faithful years. Both the pastor and the choir director wrote notes of thanks inside the front cover. All 28 choir members, including the organist, signed their names.
“I must say that you are a fine human being and that you have been a source of personal inspiration to me during our years of friendship.”
Here is what caught my eye when I opened the old songbook.
March 8, 1959. I would be born eight months later. Still an unknown surprise, I was in the earliest stages of being knit together in the secret place, wonderfully and fearfully made.
I picture Grandpa Bradley in the Somers Congregational Church choir loft, holding his Pilgrim Hymnal and singing, “O God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, our shelter in the stormy blast, and our eternal home.”
It seems that this world is in even more need of God’s help than it was back in 1959. But I have just as much hope for my grandchildren in the years to come as he must have had for me.
Someday, in our eternal home, maybe Grandpa and I will sing a duet.
Friday, April 19, 1974.
A skinny 14-year-old farm girl
met a handsome 16-year-old preacher’s son.
Fifty years ago.
Fifty golden years.
Five years, 4 months, and 6 days after that first meeting, the two stood before a church full of friends and family and sang to each other.
“Love’s grown deep inside of us
And time has made us sure
That the reason we stand here
Is because You’ve touched Your hand here.
The love we feel today is meant to be shared by two,
So we commit our love to You.”
Still do.
These frigid, dreary days of midwinter can be challenging.
Some of us slowly plug away at winter projects in the basement, take an afternoon nap, and heave great sighs of general antsy-ness.
Some of us slowly type away on writing projects on the computer, read English novels, and heave great sighs of contentment.
To inject a little joy into our hum-drum days, I’ve started a new tradition—tea time.
Between 2:30 p.m. and 3:00 p.m., (depending on the length of the nap) the tea kettle goes on, the tea biscuits come out, and PB humors me by being a good sport. It’s a fun little break in the day. I don’t make him lift his pinky finger or speak in an English accent (although I want to so badly). He would rather be in the woods or in the garage or…. probably anywhere else, but alas, the wind chill is dangerous and the garage is not heated. So he’s stuck inside with me, drinking Hot Cinnamon Spice Tea and munching on shortbread biscuits.
I think it’s absolutely lovely.
I think he secretly likes it.
We celebrated Christmas with the whole gang on Dec. 29-30, ending the year with a bang. These guys made some serious noise (very early in the morning) and cleared out the cookie and caramel stash in no time (sorry for all the sugar, parents). After opening presents, they all got to work on their new stuff. Each year I marvel at these young humans that are growing and becoming interesting, intriguing, and unique individuals.
Opa and Nonnie surprised the kiddos with matching jammies.
The 2024 Bible Reading Plan will be posted tomorrow!
Happy New Year’s Eve!
PB took me on an adventure last weekend to the center of the earth.
Or more precisely, the center of the Northwest Hemisphere.
Who knew this remarkable spot was right here in Wisconsin?
I didn’t. Until Saturday.
In case you need to brush up on your Junior High geography, here’s a quick review.
There are only four places on earth where the 45th Parallel Latitude intersects the 90th Meridian Longitude.
The only place on all of earth’s 197 million square miles where a person can stand exactly halfway between the equator and a pole and halfway between the prime meridian and the 180th meridian is right here in America’s Dairyland.
We drove north for a couple hours, turned into a farmer’s cornfield, then walked 1/4 of a mile.
PB sure knows how to get to the center of this girl’s heart. He took me on a surprise adventure to a place I’d never been before and we stood on a special spot together that no one else among the world’s 8,045,311,447 people were standing.
It was magical.
A perfect date.
We became official members of the 45-90 Club.
Then we got some lunch and drove home.
It was such a good day!
Life’s an adventure with PB!
We have entered the sweet spot.
Our littlest ones are out of diapers
and our oldest ones are still not driving.
We are in a delightful window of time.
Just look at these kiddos.
They give me hope for the future of this world.
The Grandkid Lineup — 2023
Behold! Children are a gift from the Lord.”
Psalm 127:3
