“WHY!!!!” I hear some of you cry.
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!” I hear some others of you say.
“It’s about time,” a few of you are saying too.
“After 21 years, what makes you want to get married now?” you wonder in all seriousness.
And that is the question that this letter blog is going to attempt to deal with today. It’s a journey into a world of light and the saving grace of our Lord.
I have my favorite Bible teachers that I listen to everyday. I’ve thought of myself as Christian for several years now and I’ve seen God’s blessings in my life everyday.
Mike and I have had our issues; there is no denying that. What makes it worse is that I’m a writer and I write about everyday things. It’s hard sometimes, when your heart is hurting, and your head is filled with indignation and anger, and there isn’t anything to do for it but to write — or drink wine — or both! Yeah, combining the two isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but you should always wait a couple of days before posting anything you’ve written while drinking. Despite the fact that my story enthralled some of you so that you couldn’t leave the computer until you had read the story the whole way through, maybe I shouldn’t have posted it. And I know some of you wonder where the last chapter of that story is.
I started it.
I never finished it.
I think I took a page out of Mike’s book. If you don’t want to deal with something, don’t. Pretend it didn’t happen and it’ll go away. Of course it doesn’t work that way but when someone loves you, they let you get away with it.
And you let me get away with never finishing the story.
In the meantime, life kept moving on, there were new stories to write, and the last chapter fell by the wayside.
So, recap.
I had a meltdown… in February 2015. We were going to call it quits, but once emotions weren’t so raw, Mike asked if I’d be willing to work on our relationship for a year, then re-evaluate.
While I was considering this I heard a sermon on husbands and wives and what those roles are, Biblically speaking of course.
“Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord.” That’s only the nutshell, there was a lot of meat in this sermon and by the end I believed that to be a Godly woman, I had to obey my husband.
Yeah, don’t go getting all women’s libber on me. Submit doesn’t mean be a doormat or take any kind of abuse he wants to hand out. It just means you are to be a helper, be supportive and encouraging and help him to fulfill his enormous responsibility of being head of the household.
But don’t worry, husbands have their roles outlined for them in the Bible too. “Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them.”
So I heard the sermon and meditated on it. If I am a Christian — and I believe I am; and if I want to walk in the way of our Lord — and I do; then I have to obey the Word.
“But you’re not married, Peg. Mike’s not your husband,” you say.
Well here I did a little justifying. We live as husband and wife, we portray ourselves as husband and wife, many times we’ve referred to each other as husband and wife, and we were in a marriage-like commitment. Doesn’t that make us married?
I thought it did.
I determined to do as the Bible says, and obey the laws of God that pertain to a wife and I agreed to Mike’s one year probation.
Drinking has been an issue with Mike and me for a couple of years now.
I often enjoyed a glass of wine in the late afternoon as I made dinner, or in the evening. I seldom drank to excess, but it was an issue Mike could get his hackles up about if he wanted to and he issued me an ultimatum, “Stop drinking. Not even one more drop or we’re through!”
“I don’t have to drink, but you can’t tell me I can’t!” I cried and I was preparing to leave him when he backed down and allowed me to have my occasional glass of wine and would only bring it up if he was feeling especially testy.
Then I heard a sermon on drinking. The Bible doesn’t say we can’t drink, although many preachers and Bible teachers don’t drink, but we are not to be drunkards. Christians are also commanded to not allow their bodies to be “mastered” by anything and that includes alcohol or drugs or sex or any of many other things but for this discussion we will leave it at alcohol.
I listened and I meditated on the message. “If you don’t have to drink,” I told myself, “don’t. Put your money where your mouth is.” And I took drinking and I put it out — so to speak — and I didn’t do it for Mike either; I did it for God. We are to be watching and ready for His return. If you are drunk, you are not watching and you are not ready. I stopped buying wine for the house (unless it was a special occasion such as a dinner we were hosting) and I only had a glass of wine if we went out. Although we’ve never talked about it, Mike seems okay with this arrangement.
Then our daughter died.
Kat died.
I don’t think I need to re-cap this period of my life as I blogged about it the whole time.
Living in a world of sadness and grief all the time is too hard to do and not the way God intends for us to live. I did a lot of research on what the Bible says about heaven and hell and here is the bottom line.
It is forever. Without end. Eternal.
Consider the words of Amazing Grace. “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise, then when we first begun.”
Imagine that! After ten thousand years!
Now imagine you don’t go to heaven. Imagine, after ten thousand years of agony in the fires of hell that you do not have any less days then when you’d first begun.
Have you ever been in agony? Intense pain? I have. I blogged about it. Without going back to see exactly what I wrote, I can tell you from memory that my throat hurt so bad, just moving my tongue caused intense pain and swallowing was out of the question. You have no idea how many times a day you swallow until each swallow is torture — pure agony! It hurt so bad that I wanted to die, I prayed to die — I wanted the pain to stop. That lasted for only for a few days, how could I endure it forever?
All of me revolts at the idea. I do NOT want that.
So what do I have to do to go to heaven?
Easy! Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. Confess you are a sinner, ask for forgiveness and ask Jesus to come into your life.
We are all sinners and the consequences of sin is death. We will all die. And after that there is only heaven or hell for all of eternity.
“Peg, I don’t believe in heaven or hell,” you say. “I think that when you die, that’s it. There’s nothing beyond. POOF! The candle goes out.”
You are not the only one who believes that, but what if you’re wrong?
“But I’m a good person. Surely your God won’t send me to hell,” you say.
That is saying you earned your way to heaven by being good and yet the Bible tells us that you can’t get to heaven by works alone.
“I’ll live my life how I want and accept Jesus before I die,” you say.
Well, guess what? You don’t know when you are going to die. I don’t know when I’m going to die. We must be ready, every single minute of every single day, to meet God.
I made the decision to ask Jesus to come into my life.
Lord, empty me out of me and fill me up with You, I’ve been praying. I want to hear You and obey Your word.
I hear God’s word.
Obey your husband for he is the head of the house.
I hear God’s word.
Don’t be a drunkard.
I hear God’s word.
Be ready to meet God, for you don’t know when your last hours on this earth will be.
I hear God’s word.
Obey man’s law as long as it doesn’t go against God’s law.
I hear God’s word.
Don’t commit adultery.
I hear God’s word.
Then in February of this year, right around our one year mark of working on our relationship, I got a niggle.
I must have heard a sermon and although I don’t remember what it was, I couldn’t sleep. For three nights in a row I only slept a couple of hours and I was exhausted. But eventually my niggle, my sin, became known to me.
Just because I think we are married, maybe God doesn’t. What is ‘married’?
I Googled it and after reading several pages, came to the conclusion that God does recognize a ceremony for marriage. For one thing Jesus turned water to wine at a marriage ceremony. For another it is our law, man’s law that we have a ceremony and it does not conflict with God’s law.
I am living in sin.
I have no choice but to marry Mike or leave him.
Mike must have known we were at our one year mark too because one day out of the blue he asks, “What are we doing Peg?” He was in his recliner in the grouse, I was in the RV in front of the computer.
I stopped what I was doing, jumped up and went to the door, “What do you mean?” I asked with a racing heart. I knew what he meant.
“Are we staying together or not?”
And I was evasive. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
“You’re answering my question with a question,” he observed. “Do you want to stay together or what?”
“I don’t know,” I answered and he dropped it.
Honestly, quite frankly, and to tell you the truth, I was not thinking of separating, I was thinking about getting married. But how would Mike react to an ultimatum? I know how I did!
Another time, I’m in the kitchen doing something, he’s in the recliner. “So what are we doing Peg?”
Speak up! I tell myself. I can’t! I’m not that brave! And again I was evasive.
This game went on for a couple of weeks. Not everyday. I never knew when he was going to bring it up. One night he brought it up in bed.
“What are we doing Peg?”
“I’m not talking about this right now, I want to go to sleep.”
“You’re not sleeping, you’re playing games on your Nook.”
“I’m winding down getting ready for sleep.”
He accepted that and rolled over and went to sleep.
In the car one day. “What are we doing Peg?”
“I don’t know,” I said again.
Another time and another time and another time.
Bits and pieces. That’s how we work things out.
In bits and pieces.
Finally the day came. Our business in Missouri was going to be sold, we were going to pack up everything and move to our mountain home.
It was time.
“Mike, we need to get married or split up,” I told him.
“Why?”
“Because living together without marriage is a sin.” Mike didn’t say anything and I didn’t push him. I let him think about it for a while. I was afraid his reluctance to get married was a no, in which case, when we got to our mountain home, I’d be staying there on my own. As far as I was concerned he could pack the RV and Jeep with anything he wanted and leave.
I think Mike took my not pushing the issue as a sign that I had changed my mind and he was happy to let things continue as they were.
But I wasn’t and I brought it up again.
“What are we doing Mike?”
Mike cleared his throat, twiddled his thumbs but finally said, “I don’t think we should get married.”
I was crushed but outwardly I didn’t show it.
“Okay. Why not?”
“Because you won’t take my last name,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“I like my last name!” I told exclaimed. “Lot’s of women don’t change their name when they get married!” I told him.
“I’m old fashion,” was his reply. “I think a woman should take her husband’s last name.”
I didn’t point out that if he was truly old fashion and not just making excuses he would never have lived with me without the benefit of marriage in the first place. Instead I said, “My last name hasn’t been an issue for 21 years! I like my last name — it suits me! And it’s been my last name for 40 years!”
And he said no more.
Bits and pieces.
Our son Kevin was visiting one day not long after. “Kevin,” Mike said. “Do you think that when a man and woman get married that she should take his last name?”
“Well, yeah,” Kevin answered.
Mike smirked at me and I found myself defending my position all over again.
The next time we talked about it, Mike offered a compromise. “How about Kraft-Luby?”
I frowned. I know I should have been happy with a compromise but I hated the idea, and told him so. But over the next couple of weeks I began to wonder if standing on not wanting to change my name was Biblical or not so I sought out a Biblical counselor.
The response to my question was this. “Candidly, from your aversion to take his name, it seems that you are not prepared for the lifelong commitment and unity of marriage. No, taking a husband’s last name is not required by Scripture, but it is a significant symbol that you are choosing to following your husband’s lead, forming a new and united family.”
I really thought the word ‘aversion’ was a rather strong word and I am totally committed. I think he’s full of shit, I thought. Still, it got me to thinking.
It’s just a name, Peg, I told myself. What does it really matter? And I was back to, But I like my last name!
I am really and truly totally committed, if taking his last name is what it takes to prove it — I’ll do it.
Two weeks before our move (and wanting to be married in Missouri so Kevin and his wife Kandyce and our friend Margaret could be there) I asked Mike, “So!” We were driving down the road and not talking about anything in particular at this point and I thought he would be pleased when he hears that I had a change of heart and would take his last name and not the Kraft-Luby thing as the compromise he suggested. I opened this conversation with a big ole’, “So! What is your objection to our getting married?”
“We just don’t get along anymore, Peg. We have different interests.”
I was shocked. Stunned. I was quiet for a moment, giving him a chance to amend it with this last name issue. He didn’t.
“Lot’s of married people have fights,” I said, “And lots of married couples have different interests.” I could have said, “The only thing you are interested in is watching TV,” but I didn’t. He knows. We’ve had that ‘discussion’ before.
And I didn’t tell him about my change of heart.
A week later we were in Branson, in a campground that was trying to get us to buy a membership.
“Are you ready to become a member of one of the best campgrounds around?” our agent asked. “It’s a great deal!”
They were really high pressure and I decided to just be honest and hoped it got us out of there. “It is a great deal, if we camped full time, but honestly, once we get to Pennsylvania, I’m not sure we’re going to stay together anymore,” I told her.
“Why not?” she asked.
I looked at Mike because the objection to us getting married was all his. “She won’t take my last name —“
“Yes I will,” I said quickly and quietly so only Mike could hear me.
“— and I’m old fashion that way,” he finished.
Our agent looked a little stunned. “Really? I’ve been doing this for a long time and I never heard that one before.”
We get to Pennsylvania and with the issue of my last name resolved, we talked about when to get married.
“I wanted to get married in Missouri so the kids and Margaret could be there,” I complained.
“Peg, that is not helpful,” Mike said.
“Well, I thought about getting married on Kat’s birthday but I don’t want to wait that long.” After a pause I added, “It would give me another reason to be sad on that day,” I joked. “Actually it’ll give me a reason to not be so sad.”
“How about July 11th?” Mike asked.
“Really? That would be okay,” I got the implication of that date. That was Tammy’s birthday and Tammy was Mike’s only biological child. Tammy died of cancer two years ago.
Mike and I went to the courthouse in Towanda to get a marriage license and what does some dummy do but walk in the courthouse with her pocketknife.
Yeah, me.
The beautiful, solid old oak doors held my attention until we opened the inner doors and I saw the officers there with the metal detector. “Oh, shit.”
The officers looked at us and Mike was quick to explain. “She has her pocket knife.”
I turned to go back out to the car.
“That’s okay,” an officer called after me. I stopped and turned to look at him. “Just put it in one of the lock boxes out there and bring me the key.”
I went back out the door to the foyer and there on the wall were six or eight little lockers. I put my pocket knife and pepper spray in one, then I took my cell phone out of my pocket and put it in there too. It took me a couple of minutes to figure out how the lock worked, but I finally figured it out and joined Mike inside. I handed the key to one of the officers and walked through the metal detector. It went off.
“It’s probably my underwire,” I said. I know those things will set metal detectors off. The officer passed the wand over the front and back of my body and cleared me to proceed.
We went into the clerks office. “How can I help you?” a nice lady asked.
“We’d like to get a marriage license,” Mike said.
She got up from her desk and came to the counter. “Okay. Have either one of you ever been married before?”
“Yes, we both have.”
“We need a copy of the divorce decree, photo ID and $49 dollars. Once you get your license you have to wait three days to get married.”
“I have no idea where mine is,” I said.
“Me either,” Mike said. “It’s been 26 years.”
“You’ll have to contact the courthouse in the county where you were divorced and get a copy,” she said.
“Okay. Thank you,” and we left.
Getting a copy of my divorce decree was no big deal but they couldn’t find Mike’s. “I see where you applied to the court for a divorce but I can’t find where it was ever finalized,” the clerk of the courthouse told us. “Maybe it was finalized in a different county?” she suggested.
That prompted phone calls to another county. “We went to a computerized system in the early 90’s and some records didn’t get transferred,” the clerk there told us. “I’ll have to go down to the archive room and search for it manually. What’s your phone number?”
And Mike had a whole day to worry that he wasn’t legally divorced from his last wife.
The next day on the phone the clerk told us she found the final divorce decree by searching in Ronda’s name, Mike’s ex-wife.
And the relief on Mike’s face was palpable.
July 11th came and went.
In the meantime I am attending Moxie Church, a little country church that I go to on Sundays when we are at our mountain home, and the church I want to become a member of.
In order to join this church you have to meet with the Pastor.
“Why do you want to be a member of this church?” he asked me.
“Because the Kipp’s come here. I love the Kipp’s and I trust the Kipp’s,” was the answer that came out without any thought. This is a Bible teaching church and if they taught something that wasn’t in the Bible, the Kipp’s wouldn’t go there.
“Right now, you can’t join the church. You and Mike are not married,” Pastor Mike said.
“Will you marry us?” I asked.
“Let’s set up a meeting with you and Mike and we’ll talk about it.”
On our first meeting with Pastor Mike, he said he would not marry us —that he didn’t think we should get married — at this time. He suggested that we live apart for a couple of three months, continue with counseling and then see if we still wanted to be married.
“If we’d have married 21 years ago instead of living together,” I reasoned, “we’d be in the same boat today.” Reason, justification…whatever.
Mike and I had several more meetings with Pastor Mike, some joint meetings and some private.
And Mike was dragging his feet about getting the license and now I’m thinking again that we are not going to get married.
I didn’t know what was happening in his meetings with Pastor Mike but eventually Mike’s concerns came to light and I was right. He didn’t want to get married. “Some people live together for a long time then when they get married they get divorced. I can’t afford a divorce, Peg.”
So Mike was worried about his money. Our money. I was by his side and helped to build both of the business’s that he sold. “I’m not marrying you to divorce you! I’m marrying you so I get right with God. There is no divorce once we get married.”
Once Pastor Mike and Mike had another meeting, we were done with counseling and Pastor Mike came to the conclusion that as messed up as we are, we are perfect for each other.
LOL.
Wait, maybe it was my beautiful neighbor lady Stephanie that said that about us.
Anyway Pastor Mike agreed to marry us and on August 25, 2016 we were married at the little Moxie Church.
The Kipp’s; Rosie and Lamar, and the Robinson’s; Jon and Steph, stood with us and that was the extent of the wedding party and the guest list.
Small, simple and sweet.
After our ceremony we had dinner at the Wyalusing Hotel.
In closing, I want to say that I know everyone has their own set of beliefs and it may not be the same as mine. But this I know for sure.
I love the Bible.
I love listening to the Bible teachers and preachers teach the passages of the Bible. I believe the Bible was divinely inspired and every word in the Bible is true. I believe the Bible is as relevant today as it was when it was written.
And with that we will call this one done.
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