Who knows where the time goes...

A young mom in India, one whom I have become extremely close to, has three little girls, ages 5, 3, and 1, and she is expecting her fourth child in October; we communicate frequently via WhatsApp, sharing joys and sorrows. We chat about faith, motherhood, friendships, our lives, and of course, raising children. She asked me, “What did you do with kids when they were small, for activities?”, referring to Mandy and Becky. I had to pause for a few moments to think about how to answer that—I am sure she was at her wits’ end with three little girls and being four months pregnant in one of the hottest places on earth. I did not want to give her some frivolous or abstract answer. Going back nearly years is quite a journey, and memories from those days are not easily retrieved from the memory bank—too many cobwebs.

Hitting the rapid rewind button…I was on active duty in the military from the time Mandy, the oldest, was conceived, up until they both had graduated from high school…pause tape at 1984-1986, when the girls would have been under the age of 5. Both Mandy and Becky were born in England while I was stationed there with the USAF until they were 2 ½ and 6 months, respectively. While there we had a cute little house with a fenced yard, and Mandy loved to kick this little blue ball around. She loved feeding her goldfish (sometimes pouring her cereal milk into the fish bowl—not good for Goldy), playing with blocks and stuffed animals, and riding her battery-powered bike around the living room. Remember the part about how Mandy loved kicking balls. Not our best moment as parents, we bought one of those “hamster balls” that you put the hamster in so he can run around the house and have exercise without pooping all over or getting away. Well, Mandy was not even 3 years old (we were not very smart parents, ok?) and we thought she would like a hamster and watching it in the ball instead of trying to squeeze the guts out of it by holding it too tightly.  Right.  She sees the hamster in the ball, giggles, and then screams BALL! and kicks it across the living room.  Poor little hamster never had a chance. His brain was all scrambled I think. Rocking horse, books, bath toys, and rocks were also favorites, as well as anything within reach in the kitchen cupboards. When Becky came along Mandy loved “reading” to her baby sister, sharing her toys, hugging her, and dragging her across the floor by her head—also not a great thing for the baby. (Luckily Mandy outgrew this play behavior before she had her three girls).

Our next duty station was Minot, North Dakota; we arrived in June, 1984 and were blessed to be assigned to a cute duplex on base. Like I said earlier, I was active duty, so their dad watched them during the day; however, I would go home at lunchtime and rush home as soon as I could when I got off work to maximize my time with them. Becky loved getting all the potatoes out of the cupboard and scattering baking pans and cookpots all over the kitchen floor, while Mandy played with her books and sang songs on her karaoke microphone. I read to them every night, and we would invent magical stories using stuffed animals as characters in the fantasies. They loved “helping” wash dishes, putting clean laundry into the toilet, and swimming in a baby pool we had in the backyard. In winter (in North Dakota, from September until late May, with temperatures dropping to 30 degrees below zero), outside time was limited to prevent loss of fingertips and noses; I would spend 30 minutes bundling them up in snowsuits, sweaters, multiple pairs of socks, boots, gloves, etc., for about 5 minutes of outdoor snow fun, during which time they would inevitably lose a mitten, step in a snowdrift and lose their boots, and pee in their snowsuit. Understandably, winter time was indoor time, and they would create elaborate pretend circuses, zoos, magic shows, and plays, even charging us to attend their zoo of caged stuffies under chairs and wash baskets. Puzzles, many times made of cut up old magazines and Christmas cards, were great fun, as were the science experiments we conducted using food coloring and milk, baking soda and vinegar, and balloons.

There were so many moments, precious moments, that were some of the best times in my life...

Reaching Out

Note: I sent this letter in February 2026 to a select group of friends who I could trust, as an update to what had been going on in our lives--it was easier than reaching out to each individual. 

So much has happened over the past year I felt it was best to send an update letter—I know a typed letter seems impersonal, but we have so much going on that it is the best I can do!  Some of you know our situation, but if you do not, I will briefly recap the past two years. 

There we were, living the dream of a retired couple, planning getaways  in a new-to-us fifth wheel RV, hanging out with our two dogs, gardening, going to church, and enjoying visits from and to our kids and grandkids—well my two daughters, anyway. Alex’s daughter, Nicole, is shunning us again, and has ceased all communication with us since July 2023. Nothing really new there, as she has done this before, one time for 10 years, so we really have no good relationship with her or with Alex’s grandchildren, as we did not even meet them until they were 9 and 8. Regardless, we focus our grandparent attention on Mandy’s three lovely girls (Lydia, 16, Molly, 13, and Isabella almost 12), and Becky’s miracle daughter, Sophie, now 10. My brother David, age 74, is intellectually and developmentally disabled; with me as his guardian since 2018, finally has a almost permanent home in North Carolina.

Like I said, there we were, with Mandy and her family serving as missionaries in SE Asia, Becky and Sophie in Gulfport, MS, while Ben was on a remote assignment in eastern Oregon (no base—in the eastern forest of Oregon), and us, well, loving life. House paid for, nice little cars, enjoying our savings from years of work and military service. Thought we had it all together, all planned out, until we didn’t. Mandy and family had to move for the third time in 3 years, and Ben, well, he was only 16 months away retirement eligibility when he did something I can only characterize as stupid, and he got caught, court-martialed and sentenced to a year in the brig, loss of rank, and a huge fine. There went their income, their pension, health care, everything, and their marriage, not in great shape before he went to Oregon, is teetering on the precipice. Becky was in shock, dismayed, angry, and every other emotion, but she still had to raise Sophie and pretend everything was hunky dory. 

So, we did what a lot of other grandparents do—we bought a small house five minutes from Becky, and pitched in financially, emotionally, spiritually, with Alex doing all those things dads do: car repair, tires, fixing bikes, home maintenance, walking dogs, etc. Me? At first I tried to control the situation, but of course we never have control…only God controls it all, so I gave it all to Him…again and again and again. We went to the court-martial last May, then found the house in Gulfport, and have been bouncing back and forth like ping pong balls since then—heck I never know what time zone I am in! But through it all we are learning even more to depend on God’s free grace, and to cherish the time we have with Becky and Sophie, and soon the time we will have with Ben. We enrolled Sophie in a private school, help out with their bills and expenses and errands, and provide both of them a sense of constancy and stability that only family led by God can provide. 

No, I am not bragging about how great we have handled it all, because it has been a mess…a blessed mess, but a mess still the same. I have meltdowns occasionally now, whereas initially my meltdowns and “why me???” episodes were almost daily. We spent Christmas in North Carolina with both daughters and their families (minus Ben, of course)—Brian and Mandy surprised us all by returning stateside for a short sabbatical in late November; they return to Asia on April 1 (there has to be some sort of humor there…) Ben just got released three months early from the brig, and is currently stationed in Jacksonville, Florida, at the Naval Air Station there, pending appellate review and service characterization board. 

Alex has become quite addicted to pickleball, making me a pickleball widow. I am waiting for my right knee replacement to heal completely before I attempt to join him. (Knee replacement was in August 2025). We have made this cute little house a home, with Becky’s and a new friend’s help, and have found a temporary church home while here. Most critical, for me anyway, was being able to find a place to conduct dyslexia tutoring like I had been doing up in North Carolina. Oh how I missed it! For months I contacted everyone I could think of here on the gulf coast of Mississippi, but could not make any headway. Finally, heartbroken and fed up I posted my feelings and frustration on social media; the result was over 200 comments and replies, including over 20 who wanted my help! Without the foundation Wendi Adair and Rosman Elementary provided me three years ago, I would not have been able to do what I am doing now: tutoring four emerging readers, all ages 7-8, twice a week at our local library. 

My heart is full. Right now my husband and granddaughter are in the living room watching Pink Panther cartoons. My dogs are asleep next to me, and we have more than we could ever have hoped for. Becky is a lot less angry, Mandy and her family are going to be here in MS to visit tomorrow, and we are amazed by God’s goodness and how HIS timing is always perfect. Many have asked what our plans are, if we will move to MS permanently, or sell our home in NC, or move back to the log home…there is no answer to that, at least none I have heard. We really miss Destiny Church and watch Pastor Dema online quite often, but it is not the same as being there. 

Please pray for:

• the Stock family’s safe return to Asia and for their girls to be accepted at the International School there
• Ben and Becky to heal their spirits and their marriage, and to be yoked together in Christ 
• Sophie to have less anxiety and to not worry about losing her dad
• Alex and me to be quiet and open to God’s guidance
• My brother David to continue to be happy and at home where we placed him last April
• For the wisdom and knowledge to help the kids I tutor
• For all of us to glorify God in all we do
• For my sanity and for patience—not something I have a lot of

I would love to hear from you, either a note, a letter, a text, a quick phone call. It would make my day and give me a lift. I will, Lord willing, be in North Carolina for our 10th annual Strikeout Childhood Cancer bowling tournament, which is scheduled for May 28 in Hendersonville, NC. 

New wine in an old wine skin

I never fully grasped the concept of becoming a new creation in Christ until just now. Seriously. Here I am in bed, lying next to Alex with one dog on my feet and the other on my hips; I stripped off my clothes after an early morning gardening frenzy so I’m butt naked. Probably too much information, but then, that's me.

Looking around the room, hearing the snores of my bed companions I spot the photo of me with my two girls, a photo I had taken at J.C. Penney’s back in 1987 after I’d made up my mind to divorce Wayne; funny how I clearly remember getting into my Honda civic and driving to the mall with that one objective. To memorialize the singular point in time I realized I had to start a new life. Just a few weeks earlier I’d finally won the battle to have both girls baptized in the Christian faith, something that was a bone of contention between me and Wayne; he only relented when I agreed to his demands that I have my tubes tied—he wanted no more children. That was the final straw. 

All of those thoughts, emotions,  the  resentment, and clarity of purpose are visible to me in that photo;, I belonged to God and could now teach my daughters about love and life and Christ. Emboldened by taking a photo minus my husband, I drove back home and announced my decision to him. He wasn’t shocked or angry; he was surprised however that I had the nerve to tell him what I wanted. But then my baby sister Karen died two months later. It would be 18 months before I could get up the nerve to go through with the divorce.

Looking at that photo I see the same person I am now; well, not exactly the same. I’ve grown closer to God, flourished in his ever loving grace, and put behind me the old me. I am a new creation. From that moment when I chose Jesus.  And I’m older, a bit wiser, a lot fluffier and wrinkly, but that wine, oh the wine of sanctification becomes sweeter with every passing year. Thirty nine years ago I became a new creation, full of new wine in a new wine skin; only now, the wine has aged along with the wine skin, and both are the better for it.

And no one puts new wine into old wineskins. If he does the wine is old and, the wine will burst the skins—and the wine is destroyed, and so are the skins. But new wine is for fresh wineskins.” (Mark 2:22, ESV)