Hi all,
Divorce causes children to think all sorts of things.
Dad's leaving affected all 4 of us kids in different ways. We were 11, 9, 7, 5, and fit the roles of children so often associated with dysfunctional families:We were hero, clown, scapegoat, and baby sister was the mascot, in that order. But privately, in my heart, I sought a father. My life had just fallen apart. Our circle of friends included a boy my age, Emerson, still a good friend, and another, Trip, still a friend, and each of their families were gracious enough to include me in many family activities. Trip's parents were known to us as 'Uncle Del and Aunt Betsy', we were that close.
All my friends had dads who were active in their lives, and I felt very self-conscious and alone. When dad said "I'm divorcing your mother and you kids" the context through which we had understood the world crumbled. I didn't care about school. I dropped out of Boy Scouts, art lessons, drum lessons, swimming lessons (my teacher wanted me to train competitively), and later I dropped out of SCUBA instruction and flying lessons. I just didn't care any longer. I was stuck in apathy for life, in my heart, wanting a father.
When I was 14 I saw a little monkey for sale in the pet shop at the mall, and really wanted her. She was the smallest of the several for sale, and the most frail and cowering of the group, clinging to the other monkeys - she was like me emotionally. I identified with her. Back in the early 1970's you could buy exotic pets in pet stores. Mom realized I was hurting and she told me later she thought caring for her would bring some healing, and she was right.
Tilly is what I named her, and with a large cage a neighbor had built (another father figure of a friend), Tilly and I became inseparable. I quickly potty trained her to her cage, and with her harness and leash, she and I would go outside. She loved to be in the trees, and at night, eating moths and beetles that flew around the porch light.
Looking back I can see the Father's hand providing all those dads of my friends and Tilly.
She gave me something to live for. I only had her for about a year. She died on my lap on the way to the Veterinarian. He later reported she had a congenital condition in her intestines that got knotted up as she aged, which eventually caused her death. A few weeks later I turned 15 (May).
It was now 1973, the start of my sophomore year, the start of Barb's freshman year. I was apathetic as ever, getting an F in my first semester of algebra, and still looking for a father. I was taking German class which was the 1 class I was very enthusiastic about as I had almost been born in Germany. My dad was stationed near Stuttgart 1957-58, and mom came home to have me, dad's discharge came around the same time. Back then 2 years of military service was mandatory for young men. When mom and dad wanted to say things they didn't want we kids to hear, they would switch to German, so I really wanted to learn it.
In German class I met Janny, a Roman Catholic. (Still a very good friend) We paired up on class projects and became good friends. One day we were comparing churches - she Roman Catholic and me Episcopalian - we realized our Sunday morning services used the same liturgy. She made the comment:"I know the God behind the liturgy." That intrigued me. I wanted to know the Father God, but was unsure. I watched as her boyfriend, Vic (and future husband) and she prayed about things in their lives, and they all got answered, one by one. After watching all those answered prayers, I gave my heart to the Lord and the Father.
I was standing at home in my bedroom on a day I made sure everyone was out of the house, when I said out loud:Jesus, if you have the last word in my life, then it only makes sense to serve you now. No matter what anyone may think of me, as long as you have the last word and are for me, then I give you my life, do with me as you will." and words to the effect.
Meeting Barb at age 15
While the Father was drawing me to Jesus when I was 15 through Janny, in September of 1973, my 10th grade, Barb's next door neighbor and best friend, Margaret, asked me to their school's fall prom. I was 15 so couldn't drive yet, so mom dropped me at their house and Margaret's dad took me home that night.
Mom rented me a powder blue tuxedo - it was the early 1970's so the shirt had ruffles. I had an afro that came naturally from my long curly hair. It had turned more blonde than red by then, and braces had taken care of my buck teeth.
Being next door neighbors, Barb was at Margaret's to see us dressed in our prom best. She had just turned 15 and had gotten the braces off her teeth as she started 9th grade. I don't remember Margaret's dress, but Barb was wearing a maroon sweat shirt and blue jeans, and was as smart alecky as ever:"Ooo Margaret, he's hot. Ooo Margaret, he's tall. Ooo Margaret whatchagonna do? and things like that. I had gone from that chubby dork of a 12 year old with buck-teeth, in an ugly wool green suit, to a tall, thin, 15 year old with long hair that resembled the afro of the early 1970's. No dork here! lol.
I never had another date with Margaret
Yes, puberty changes icky girls and dorky boys, and once I met Barb that was game, set, and match. Margaret and I saw each other through the school year regularly through church, but Barb and I didn't see each other again until the next summer.
That summer, 1974, Margaret (16) and Barb (15), bicycled the 4 miles from their neighborhood out to my house to see me. Another 4 miles west I knew of a creek that was flooded and we had the idea to go float down it. We all cycled there as it ran through a country club golf course so the banks of the creek were manicured, making it easy to climb out, walk upstream and float back all over again. Looking back, it was a miracle we didn't drown. We knew enough to keep our legs up close to us as we floated so we wouldn't become entangled in underwater branches, but wow that was stupid.
There were other bike rides together that summer, but the turning point came in late summer when Barb broke her nose. I got my driver's license that summer and drove in to go swimming in one of Barb and Margaret's friend's swimming pool. There were probably about 10 of us, and the pool had not been cared for, so the water was solid green. But who cared? We had floated down a flooded creek a couple weeks earlier, so what if you couldn't see your hand in front of your face?
But it was there in that murk that a mutual friend, Kim, (still a good friend) accidentally kicked Barb in the nose, breaking it. Everyone dispersed as Barb's parents took her to the doctor. I really liked Barb, but was so shy that up to that point I wasn't brave enough to let my feelings be known. I didn't feel the Lord directing me to Barb, but in a crowd of people, she was the one I wanted to hang out with and get to know better. We clicked from the start.
I was able to buy my own car:
A 1965 GTO with Thrush mufflers and a Hurst shifter. (That will only mean something to a few of you I know). You could hear me coming from blocks away. I was genuinely concerned about Barb, but very shy. Wanting to let her know I liked her, but not brave enough to drive to her house by myself, I grabbed my friend, Tony Cooke, to take with me. Barb was embarrassed as her nose was taped with white tape across the bridge of her nose and across part of her face, but she could see that I liked her, though she wondered my intentions because I was so shy. Maybe she still saw some of that dork in me. She was still 15, I was barely 16.
A couple weeks later she was better, and I summoned the nerve to ask her out on a date. We went to a movie, and not wanting the night to end, as we drove by a Dunkin' Donut shop I asked if she'd like a donut. We pulled in, I used the last of my cash, and sat talking for quite a while. That night I walked her to her door, and because I am 6'6" tall (1.9m) and she is only 5'3 1/2 (1.6m), she stood one step up at her back door, and we kissed goodnight.
She later said she knew she was going to marry me at that moment. She said she floated into her house. I was the first guy she had dated that opened the door for her, didn't try to push myself on her, and took a genuine interest in just being with her. A couple weeks later as I fumbled with my words and my class ring - I was trying to ask her to 'go steady' - she finally just grabbed the ring and said, "Are you trying to ask me to go steady? Yes!" Direct as ever, lol, but we've been 'going steady' since. We were married 4 years later, in September of 1978, my how time flies.
Next week, Barb gets saved, and we gain experience in the gifts of the Spirit. Until then, blessings,
John Fenn
cwowi.org and email me at [email protected] and [email protected]
Divorce causes children to think all sorts of things.
Dad's leaving affected all 4 of us kids in different ways. We were 11, 9, 7, 5, and fit the roles of children so often associated with dysfunctional families:We were hero, clown, scapegoat, and baby sister was the mascot, in that order. But privately, in my heart, I sought a father. My life had just fallen apart. Our circle of friends included a boy my age, Emerson, still a good friend, and another, Trip, still a friend, and each of their families were gracious enough to include me in many family activities. Trip's parents were known to us as 'Uncle Del and Aunt Betsy', we were that close.
All my friends had dads who were active in their lives, and I felt very self-conscious and alone. When dad said "I'm divorcing your mother and you kids" the context through which we had understood the world crumbled. I didn't care about school. I dropped out of Boy Scouts, art lessons, drum lessons, swimming lessons (my teacher wanted me to train competitively), and later I dropped out of SCUBA instruction and flying lessons. I just didn't care any longer. I was stuck in apathy for life, in my heart, wanting a father.
When I was 14 I saw a little monkey for sale in the pet shop at the mall, and really wanted her. She was the smallest of the several for sale, and the most frail and cowering of the group, clinging to the other monkeys - she was like me emotionally. I identified with her. Back in the early 1970's you could buy exotic pets in pet stores. Mom realized I was hurting and she told me later she thought caring for her would bring some healing, and she was right.
Tilly is what I named her, and with a large cage a neighbor had built (another father figure of a friend), Tilly and I became inseparable. I quickly potty trained her to her cage, and with her harness and leash, she and I would go outside. She loved to be in the trees, and at night, eating moths and beetles that flew around the porch light.
Looking back I can see the Father's hand providing all those dads of my friends and Tilly.
She gave me something to live for. I only had her for about a year. She died on my lap on the way to the Veterinarian. He later reported she had a congenital condition in her intestines that got knotted up as she aged, which eventually caused her death. A few weeks later I turned 15 (May).
It was now 1973, the start of my sophomore year, the start of Barb's freshman year. I was apathetic as ever, getting an F in my first semester of algebra, and still looking for a father. I was taking German class which was the 1 class I was very enthusiastic about as I had almost been born in Germany. My dad was stationed near Stuttgart 1957-58, and mom came home to have me, dad's discharge came around the same time. Back then 2 years of military service was mandatory for young men. When mom and dad wanted to say things they didn't want we kids to hear, they would switch to German, so I really wanted to learn it.
In German class I met Janny, a Roman Catholic. (Still a very good friend) We paired up on class projects and became good friends. One day we were comparing churches - she Roman Catholic and me Episcopalian - we realized our Sunday morning services used the same liturgy. She made the comment:"I know the God behind the liturgy." That intrigued me. I wanted to know the Father God, but was unsure. I watched as her boyfriend, Vic (and future husband) and she prayed about things in their lives, and they all got answered, one by one. After watching all those answered prayers, I gave my heart to the Lord and the Father.
I was standing at home in my bedroom on a day I made sure everyone was out of the house, when I said out loud:Jesus, if you have the last word in my life, then it only makes sense to serve you now. No matter what anyone may think of me, as long as you have the last word and are for me, then I give you my life, do with me as you will." and words to the effect.
Meeting Barb at age 15
While the Father was drawing me to Jesus when I was 15 through Janny, in September of 1973, my 10th grade, Barb's next door neighbor and best friend, Margaret, asked me to their school's fall prom. I was 15 so couldn't drive yet, so mom dropped me at their house and Margaret's dad took me home that night.
Mom rented me a powder blue tuxedo - it was the early 1970's so the shirt had ruffles. I had an afro that came naturally from my long curly hair. It had turned more blonde than red by then, and braces had taken care of my buck teeth.
Being next door neighbors, Barb was at Margaret's to see us dressed in our prom best. She had just turned 15 and had gotten the braces off her teeth as she started 9th grade. I don't remember Margaret's dress, but Barb was wearing a maroon sweat shirt and blue jeans, and was as smart alecky as ever:"Ooo Margaret, he's hot. Ooo Margaret, he's tall. Ooo Margaret whatchagonna do? and things like that. I had gone from that chubby dork of a 12 year old with buck-teeth, in an ugly wool green suit, to a tall, thin, 15 year old with long hair that resembled the afro of the early 1970's. No dork here! lol.
I never had another date with Margaret
Yes, puberty changes icky girls and dorky boys, and once I met Barb that was game, set, and match. Margaret and I saw each other through the school year regularly through church, but Barb and I didn't see each other again until the next summer.
That summer, 1974, Margaret (16) and Barb (15), bicycled the 4 miles from their neighborhood out to my house to see me. Another 4 miles west I knew of a creek that was flooded and we had the idea to go float down it. We all cycled there as it ran through a country club golf course so the banks of the creek were manicured, making it easy to climb out, walk upstream and float back all over again. Looking back, it was a miracle we didn't drown. We knew enough to keep our legs up close to us as we floated so we wouldn't become entangled in underwater branches, but wow that was stupid.
There were other bike rides together that summer, but the turning point came in late summer when Barb broke her nose. I got my driver's license that summer and drove in to go swimming in one of Barb and Margaret's friend's swimming pool. There were probably about 10 of us, and the pool had not been cared for, so the water was solid green. But who cared? We had floated down a flooded creek a couple weeks earlier, so what if you couldn't see your hand in front of your face?
But it was there in that murk that a mutual friend, Kim, (still a good friend) accidentally kicked Barb in the nose, breaking it. Everyone dispersed as Barb's parents took her to the doctor. I really liked Barb, but was so shy that up to that point I wasn't brave enough to let my feelings be known. I didn't feel the Lord directing me to Barb, but in a crowd of people, she was the one I wanted to hang out with and get to know better. We clicked from the start.
I was able to buy my own car:
A 1965 GTO with Thrush mufflers and a Hurst shifter. (That will only mean something to a few of you I know). You could hear me coming from blocks away. I was genuinely concerned about Barb, but very shy. Wanting to let her know I liked her, but not brave enough to drive to her house by myself, I grabbed my friend, Tony Cooke, to take with me. Barb was embarrassed as her nose was taped with white tape across the bridge of her nose and across part of her face, but she could see that I liked her, though she wondered my intentions because I was so shy. Maybe she still saw some of that dork in me. She was still 15, I was barely 16.
A couple weeks later she was better, and I summoned the nerve to ask her out on a date. We went to a movie, and not wanting the night to end, as we drove by a Dunkin' Donut shop I asked if she'd like a donut. We pulled in, I used the last of my cash, and sat talking for quite a while. That night I walked her to her door, and because I am 6'6" tall (1.9m) and she is only 5'3 1/2 (1.6m), she stood one step up at her back door, and we kissed goodnight.
She later said she knew she was going to marry me at that moment. She said she floated into her house. I was the first guy she had dated that opened the door for her, didn't try to push myself on her, and took a genuine interest in just being with her. A couple weeks later as I fumbled with my words and my class ring - I was trying to ask her to 'go steady' - she finally just grabbed the ring and said, "Are you trying to ask me to go steady? Yes!" Direct as ever, lol, but we've been 'going steady' since. We were married 4 years later, in September of 1978, my how time flies.
Next week, Barb gets saved, and we gain experience in the gifts of the Spirit. Until then, blessings,
John Fenn
cwowi.org and email me at [email protected] and [email protected]
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