Is There Just One Right Person to Marry?, part II

My two unmarried children are both in dating relationships and have been spending some time thinking about "is she/he the right person to marry?" and "is there only one right person to marry?" I've already thought about this topic in a previous blog entry, but the topic has come to my mind again as I pray for my children and their relationships.

Currently, I'm thinking about this topic in terms of value. If, for instance, you are the only one for me, then I am going to value you greatly, be careful how I treat you, and make sure I don't lose you since you're irreplaceable. If, on the other hand, you are only 1 out of 100 whom I could marry, then your value is considerably less, maybe only 1/100. I can treat you with less care, because, if I lose you, it is only a minor and momentary loss--after all, there are 99 more waiting on my doorstep.

Rice

I have recently been educating myself about rice. We eat rice regularly, but I did not grow up eating rice. In fact, I used to think I hated rice, but that was because I had only every eaten it in this nasty dish as a child. Yuck! I grew up in a meat-and-potatoes culture where rice was nearly unheard of. I was well an adult before I really tasted rice as it was meant to be eaten--without sugar!

Many times my rice turned out sticky and gummy. Then I tried a bag of basmati rice, and it turned out to be a lot easier to cook. It smells different than other rice, and even I can cook it almost to perfection every time. I recently tried another variety, jasmine, but it turned out too sticky again. That made me curious so I did some research and found this nice link to an explanation and photos of a number of different kinds of rice. Turns out the stickiness is more because of the type of rice than because of my cooking abilities.

I guess this blog entry is a bit late; last year was the International Year of Rice.

Daughter #2 Returns

We had quite a surprise today. Our first exchange student daughter, Sandra, showed up in Dallas for a nine day visit. She had made the arrangements with a friend of ours so she could surprise us. We are very excited to have her here. She came at a good time because she will be able to see David when he is home for Thanksgiving next week.

Sandra lived with us during the 99-00 school year when Rachel was a senior, David was a junior, and she was a sophomore. The second exchange student daughter we had live with us, Doro, was here during the 03-04 school year.

Sandra remembers her favorite store, Clothestyme, but I'm not sure they are still in business. Sandra will be with us until November 26, so that will give us some time to try to find it.

Personal Watermelon

I thought watermelons were supposed to be bigger than cantelopes.

Correction

I got a call from a faithful blog reader (I have at least one) today, saying, "Yeah, I know that song--Jesu Azali Awa--that you wrote about in your blog. I listened to it on the way to work today." And I thought no one had even heard of it. Sure enough, a popular Christian singing group called Selah has it out on one of their CD's. Here are all the words. Turns out I also had the language wrong. The language the song is written in is called Lingala, spoken in Democratic Republic of Congo, formerly called the Belgian Congo.

A Grand Adventure

Today was the conclusion of our church's two weeks of missions emphasis. We are fortunate to have a pastor who is both missionary kid and former missionary before he became a pastor. We often enjoy his stories of life in Romania. He mentioned how many people are afraid to answer God's call of "Whom shall I send?" because they are afraid of what they are getting themsleves into. "At one point, I was afraid to ride the train from Germany to Amsterdam. And indeed, the first time we did that, we got on the wrong train. But, we survived. Life is an adventure." He pointed out that we often do things without really knowing what we are getting into--like getting married and having kids, for starters.

Annual Day of Prayer

There were three or four hundred of us, I guess. Mostly dressed in the boutique's best, not much to look at. Lots of white hair, but a few babies too. Mostly married folks, but a few singles too. The pews were piled higher and deeper with advanced degrees. The best part was we sound great as a choir in the round. At one point, the song leader said, "We're going to sing a song in Mboke. It will be new to most of you." So we sang

Jesu azali awa,
Jesu azali awa,
Jesu azali awa na biso.
Aleluia ah aleluia na Jesu.

I didn't return to the meeting after lunch. Instead, Rachel and I went for a hike on the MK Trace. It really isn't that beautiful of a place, but in Dallas, we can't be too fussy.



And at the highest spot, there is a nice view of Joe Pool lake.



Rachel had no plans tonight, so we decided it was time for another cooking lesson. She made quiche, spilling only a little in the bottom of the oven. I'm not sure, but I think she might be calling me an oaf.


And she's been wanting to try making cheese biscuits since having them at Red Lobster.

Farewell, Stella

Today we had lunch at my favorite place, (Ton's) with Stella and her mom to say farewell to Stella who is taking a job at Methodist Children's Home in Waco, TX. We want to wish Stella the best as she starts a job as Youth Care Counselor. Our prayers will be with her in what will no doubt be a challenging job.

New Computer

No, not for me, for grandma. My mom phoned last night and asked me to buy her a new computer. "Buy it" in the sense that I would order it, but with her credit card. So I did. In a couple days, she should be the proud new owner of a Dell Desktop with a flat panel monitor. Rachel's comment: "Yay, a new computer to play games on at Christmas."

The Wave

Have you ever been to a professional baseball game where the fans did the wave? You know, a rowdy bunch in the outfield bleachers gets bored with the game so they get all the folks in that section to stand up, wave their arms, and yell. Then just as they are finishing, the next section does the same thing, and so on. If the fans are willing, this process can go all the way around the stadium, and then start again. It is fun to watch this phenomenon, and fun to participate in too.

I started thinking about the wave in church today. No, I wasn't daydreaming about baseball. the song we were singing, He Reigns, got me to thinking how believers all around the globe raise their hands and voices in praise to our savior every Sunday morning.

• As the sun rises in Fiji, the believers gather and praise God.
• Then an hour later Solomon Islanders pick up the refrain.
• Then Australia, Papua New Guinea, and Japan
• Indonesia, Philippines, Korea
• Malaysia and a few in Vietnam and China
• Yes, praises from Thailand, Burma, and Mongolia.
• India, Nepal, Tibet
• Pakistan. The song is faint, but still audible from Afghanistan
• Madagascar and Iran
• It gets louder: Mozambique, Kenya, Ethiopia, Turkey and Russia
• South Africa, Zaire, Romania, and Sweden
• Cameroon, Italy, France, Germany
• Ivory Coast, Mali (don't forget Timbuktu), Spain, Ireland
• This time zone is sparse--Senegal, Canary Islands, and Iceland
• Brazil joins in
• Uruguay, Surinam, Trinidad and Tobago
• Argentina, Bolivia, Venezuela, Dominican Republic, and Quebec
• Peru, Panama, Indianapolis and Toronto
• Then it is my turn, joined by Mexico and Winnipeg
• Next it goes to Grandma and Grandpa in Phoenix, Calgary
• San Francisco and Vancouver
• Gambier Islands and Juneau
• Tahiti and Honolulu lift their hands and voices
• Lord, do you hear them in Samoa?
• And look! The Fijians are starting over again, even though it is Monday.

"New" Chair

I got a small wooden rocking chair out of the free furniture co-op for David when he was furnishing his new condo, but he rejected it because it was too ugly. It was pretty ugly, pink and green with ivy painted across the top. But Rachel could see beyond the ugly, and claimed it for her own, insisting all it needed was some paint.


Last night at 9pm I decided to sew a cushion for this chair. 23 hours later I had finished it (no, not 23 continuous hours of work. I did sleep, go shopping, do three loads of laundry, make lunch and a few other things too). The fabric came from the free boutique and the stuffing for the cushion came from recycling some old throw pillows also from the boutique.

So now Rachel has a new chair, only for the price of a quart of paint.

Voting on Marriage

I went out to lunch to day at Olive Garden with a number of ladies from my office--eating and talking, and not having to cook--now's that's the life! I got a rather large item, just so I could bring a bunch home to feed to Gary tonight. Then I don't have to cook twice!

On the way home I stopped by the public library to vote. They've upgraded the voting machines to these handy-dandy touch screen things, easy to use with nice bright colors (although I expect the print was too small for some folks). Most of the propositions I couldn't make heads nor tails of, though I did do my homework and read an online ballot before voting.

I voted to define marriage in Texas as between one man and one woman. Like, duh! I don't consider that an act of social conservative protest. I just consider it a way to say that I don't like people redefining perfectly good words like marriage. If homosexual unions need some kind of legal protection (and I'm not saying they do), then they need to call them something other than marriage. As a linguist, I certainly know that the meanings of words do change over time, but the gradual, natural evoution of semantics does not happen because a minority group legislates it to be so.

Is There Just One Right Person to Marry?

After the wedding reception we hosted for my son and his new beautiful bride last August, an old friend asked me, "Do you still think there is just one right person for everyone?" I paused, then said, "I used to think so, and I'd still like to think so, but that position isn't logically defensible."

My husband never did think this way, and it used to kind of make me mad. I wanted him to think I was the one and only person for him. After 20+ years of marriage, he wrote me a song, "You're The Only One For Me." How can I be mad at someone who sings to me??

Sometimes I read blogs of random people, and I found this post on the site of a young man who at one time attended LeTourneau University. He's a decent writer, but I don't even know if he is a believer. He wrote:

For a long time I labored under the idea that there were dozens, perhaps hundreds of women that I could end up with and live my life with and be happy with. I'm starting to change my mind. As my marriage enters its third month, I'm constantly reminded how wonderful a person my wife is. She seems to be the perfect choice for me. Beautiful, fun, smart and a great cook. I don't see how there could ever be anyone else this perfect for me. She's the one and only. And I'm hers. How awesome is that?

(Freakin' awesome, that's what it is!)

My daughter recently asked me the same question. She said, "I guess there could be more than one person, but somehow it just doesn't feel that way." I still think logically there must be more than one person you could marry, but emotionally, we all want to think we are a unique shape that fits into someone else's unique shape.

More Humble Pie

I don't usually post twice in one day--I mean, don't I have anything else to do??

But now I just have to say that since I wrote the previous post, someone came to my house and gave me $xxx.xx with a note saying, "Because God told me to, and because I want to."

Thank you, Lord.

You Can't Talk About Money, It Isn't Polite

I'm feeling humbled today.

When Gary and I were newlyweds, we were dirt poor. We lived on a stipend that he was getting from Cornell University and my babysitting job. I had not quite finished college when we got married, so I was attempting to complete my last semester by correspondence classes. One day in the spring I had just completed a paper for one of my classes and we wanted to go celebrate. So we did. We had just enough money for one hamburger and one coke at McDonald's, which we shared. We knew that the next day was payday, so we would have $0 to our name for less than 24 hours. We look back at that time as "the poorest we ever were" and laugh about it, and sometimes repeat the story to struggling newlyweds.

Well, I was remembering that story this last week, because we were totally out of money. Our income, like many missionaries, fluctuates each month according to what our donors happen to have sent in during the previous month. (Sometimes, we have "extra" money because Gary moonlights as a computer/linguistics consultant, but he hasn't had any of those jobs in many months.) Anyway, without going into any more of the gory details,** we found that the month was longer than the money and I was kind of fretting about having a negative bank balance. I reminded myself, as I often do, that God will supply our needs, as He has done for the 30+ years we've been doing this. But still I was fretting, sad to say.

Then today I got an email saying "So-and-so has sent you a gift of $xxxx.xx from the sale of stocks. Look for this on your October 2005 statement" (as if we wouldn't notice a gift of that size). So, while it is entirely possible that my bank account will be overdrawn before next Monday when this gift is deposited (depending on the timing of certain direct debit bills), it looks like we'll have the funds to cover it. :-)

Thanks be to God. I'm writing this story to give testimony to the fact that God does, in fact, meet our needs.

**I know it isn't acceptable to discuss one's personal finances in public. In our society it is more acceptable to discuss one's sex life than one's finances. But I don't view my financial situation as a reflection of my worth as a person, or my worth as a worker, so I'm less concerned about that "rule" than other people. I hope this story doesn't embarrass you.

Labiodental Flap

Just in case there are any linguists reading this blog, I'd like to point out that one of my colleagues has gotten the International Phonetic Association to adopt a new phonetic symbol, named the labiodental flap, into the International Phonetic Alphabet. This special alphabet is used by linguists around the world to represent all the exotic sounds that the human mouth can make. Ken didn't invent this sound nor did he discover it. But he did research this sound and found it exists in 70 languages, most of which are in central Africa. A new phonetic symbol is kind of like having a baby, and everyone in the Linguistics department is proudly showing off this new addition.

BBQ

As you can see from the jackets, it was chilly, but it was nice to have one last BBQ of the season.

Updates from Africa

I got some new photos from Andrew and Laura this morning. Always nice to hear from them. Looks like they have found some furniture for their living room. Last time I saw a photo, it was a big bare room with nice floors.

I got emails from two African countries this morning--three from Ethiopia, and one from Uganda. David's girlfriend is living in Uganda for a year, teaching school under the auspices of the Mennonite Central Committee. Her email said she had gotten two proposals of marriage last week. I'd say David better get on the stick before it is too late!

Speaking of David, he's two-thirds through his first semester of medical school. But his challenge for today is repairing his broken washing machine. He called last night to say he had torn it apart (using the info I sent him a blog or two ago) and had to go buy a multitester to check the solenoids. When I offered to mail him an old voltmeter we have, he replied, "But I have to have a digital one." He always was the snooty kid in the family.

Self-paid Missionaries

Tonight at our weekly Bible study I met and interesting couple and learned a bit about them. They are part-time missionaries, in a very specific way. The husband is a CPA, and he works for some company in Ohio that prepares tax returns. He works for them 4 months of the year, during tax season. Then for 8 months of the year, he and his wife do financial work (internal audits, installing new financial software and training people to use it, etc.) for a mission board. Sometimes they go to Africa, sometimes to Dallas. They don't have any children, so that makes this lifestyle possible.

We know another couple who live in Dallas who does similar work. He is a police officer, she is a clothing designer. He uses his 4 weeks or more of vacation and go to various places to do financial work (he was an accountant before he decided to become a policeman) for missions. His wife goes a long and gives haircuts and perms while shopping for exotic fabrics for her clothing business. (She also makes custom wedding gowns and lets missionary girls wear them for only a $50 cleaning fee.)

It is Fall and Love is in the Air

Today we got an email from someone who is, shall we say, in the autumn of his life. Over a year ago his wife of around 50 years died. He has fallen in love again, and reports that, with his children's support, he is thinking of marrying a single (never married) lady who lives down the hall in the retirement center. It was just too cute.

He's not the only one--a couple months ago two 70 year olds, recently widowed, have married and are acting like 18-year olds.

These gentlemen know what is good for them.