Honorable Mention and a Poem to Commemorate the Doo-Dah Moment

I am the recipient of the Honorable Mention award for the Write-Away contest at Scribbit. It was the post about my brother. This is a doo-dah moment. I can't help it.


Picking Up My Kid From School on a Snowy Afternoon

Whose van this is I think I know.
It’s covered up with freaking snow;
Though you can’t see me shoveling here
I’m tromping through more freaking snow.
My little dog must think it queer
I think she cried a single tear,
Between the fall and winter slush
She’s been inside for half a year.
We do not grill but Shake-n-Bake
My friend’s tan is totally fake
The only other sound's the scrape
Of ice on windows and pumping brakes.
The vehicles are sliding, the horns, they beep
And since it’s getting really deep
I’m glad I do not drive a Jeep

My minivan I’m forced to keep.

My minivan I’m forced to keep.

Write-Away Writing Contest at Scribbit

When you think of February 14, and Valentine's Day, and love, your siblings aren't usually the first to come to mind. But my brother was the first to come to my mind when I read about the writing contest at Michelle Mitchell's blog: Scribbit: Motherhood in Alaska. I wrote this a while back for Donnie, who is 8 years older than I am. Even though he's 53, I cannot call him "Don." He will always be my childhood brother "Donnie" to me. And I am so glad that he has become tender toward the Lord because it has allowed him to express his love for me more freely, more often and more heartfelt than ever in our younger lives. What a wonderful God we serve. What a wonderful brother I have. And yes, that is the coffee table about which the post is written, and that is indeed a cherry pink divan with silver sparkly nylon woven throughout it, and the year is about 1966.


Dear Donnie: Sorry About the Coffee Table


Somewhere in the world, there is a wooden coffee table with three provocative words scribbled in pencil on the underside. I know because I wrote them when I was about six.

I scooted on my back under that table with a big fat pencil and wrote, “I hate Donnie.” Guess who that is. He’s my brother, who absolutely drove me crazy most of my life. He had a way of just looking across the room at me that would set me off—only you who have big brothers know what "the look" is and how it irritates every nerve in your entire being.

Siblings know almost everything about each other, which makes the other easy prey. After all, you eat together, share the TV and sit next to each other on long road trips, so there’s always opportunity, motive and means for driving each other nuts. Interestingly, even though most siblings don’t like to admit publicly that they’re related, genetically speaking, they have more in common with their siblings than they do their own parents!

There is someone who knows us even better than our siblings do, though. He knows all the mistakes we’ve made, our most embarrassing moments, and even our secret thoughts. That would be God, of course. You can’t hide who you really are from God, even if you scoot under a coffee table or pretend to be somebody else to fit in, or put someone down to make yourself feel better.In fact, in 1 Samuel 2:3b, the Bible says, “The Lord is a God who knows your deeds,” and Psalm 44::21b says, “He knows the secrets of every heart.”

Since we’ve all messed up, that’s scary because it sounds like we’re in big trouble.

But there is good news.

Someone once said, “The one who knows you best loves you most.” It seems unbelievable, but the same message occurs over and over in the Bible—that in spite of your flaws, God loves you deeply. Jesus had a way of looking right past a person’s words, of looking into their lives and then looking even deeper into their hearts, where he could see all kinds of truths, but he never, ever said, “You are just too bad for me. I can’t stand being around you.” He basically said, “You need me, and I love you, so we’re a good match.”

Jesus’ mission on the cross can bring you and God together, the way it was meant to be. I can tell you from personal experience that it feels great to know that God doesn’t hold those embarrassing, wrong things I’ve done against me.

Back to the sibling thing--there’s hope for you who feel like you’ll never get along with your siblings. Donnie and I are proof of that.

In fact, when I see him, my heart beats a little faster with joy. He is the funniest person in the world (which is big, coming from me), and he has a very tender heart. He never gives up on people. He always hugs me now and usually tells me he loves me when we part. I cannot get over the change that softened his heart toward me.

But that's what God does. He softens us in some ways and strengthens us in others. He makes crooked things straight and reconciles relationships. He teaches us to never give up on others. He teaches us to love.

I guess this is a good time to apologize to Donnie for the coffee table "incident," (although he probably thinks it's hilarious.) After all, he is my brother, and I love him. There—I said it for the world to see, “I love Donnie.”

Donnie and I 2006























Larry is 16 years older than I; Jack is 12 years older; and Donnie is 8 years older.
No sisters.

Submission to P31 Woman Magazine

*This is a sticky post for a weekend submission to P31 Woman. For weekend updates, see posts below.

No More Tears for Fears--Marriage as a Three-Cord Strand

On June 15, 1985, I was a college graduate of three weeks and a bride of 24 hours. I remember languishing poolside in Floridian bliss, humming along to Tears for Fears' Everybody Wants to Rule the World, while sipping a cold drink and exchanging smiles with my bridegroom. I didn't want to rule the world exactly, but I did have big plans for my new married life.

When I hear the song now, I smile at the irony of the first line: "Welcome to your life; there's no turning back ... ." At 22, what did I know about a commitment to care forever -- no turning back?

Occasionally, I wish I could return to June 14, 1985, and meet myself as a young bride at the back of the church. I'd whisper candidly to the young me about my expectations versus the reality of the years ahead. If you had asked me then if I understood the scope and weight of my vows, I would have said yes, but I didn't really.

Being in love didn't prepare me for those first grocery shopping ventures, when I plopped favorites into the cart and he promptly removed them. I didn't know that without due warning he would change my radio stations. Who knew we'd spend 22 years disagreeing about how to mow the lawn? And how could I have known that he had a sleeping disorder? Or (and this still puts a chill up my spine) that we would have kids with sleeping disorders?

I didn't understand that he couldn't be "everything" for me. After all, he was the love of my life, with emphasis on "my."

And that poor bridegroom -- he didn't know the half of his bride's self-centered capacities. He didn't know his fun-loving girlfriend would be so uptight about clothes on the floor and dust on ceiling fans. How could an affectionate girlfriend neglect to meet her husband when he walked through the door after work each night? And how did she manage to break so many things weekly? Imagine his confusion about a wife who six months into marriage began daily afternoon naps that merged into nights. Had he married a narcoleptic?

No, the power naps were due to the hormonal changes of pregnancy, and he would be a dad in only his second year of marriage.

Who knew?

God did. He knew we would go through seasons of joy alternated with frustration, depression, family deaths, disappointment in each other and in ourselves. But by the grace of God who remained faithful to us when our commitment lagged, and through the support of church family and friends, we stand together 22 years later.

Ecclesiastes 4:12 says, "Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not easily broken"(NIV).

Three strands: God, my husband, and me.

At times, the cord frayed, but it didn't break, because ultimately, we love God and value who we are as a couple and a family more than we love our individual selves-- not because we're noble or martyrs, but because God's spirit in us "grew" this counter-human commitment to something bigger than ourselves as individuals.

Based on statistics, it's a safe bet that without positioning our marriage and family on his principles and grace, we wouldn't be together today.

A line in the aforementioned songs says, "There's a room where the light won't find you/holding hands while the walls come tumbling down/When they do I'll be right behind you..." In the tropical sun of 1985, I wouldn't have believed that darkness could ever threaten us. But by banding together when darkness came and walls fell, we defended each other when one was weaker. And when we were both tired, our anchor strand was strong enough to get us through.

I am not as naive about life and expectations anymore. I do know that when my husband is pushed, I'll be right behind him, supporting him. When walls tumble, I'll be right beside him, holding his hand.

And even if I could time travel and enlighten myself about the triumphs and trials to come, I'd trust in the outstretched hand of my bridegroom at the altar, squish my puffy dress through the vestibule, and confidently meet him there -- no turning back.



Written by Linda Crow. Word Count: 716. Previously published in the Muncie Star Press, June 16, 2007. Permission granted to Proverbs 31 Ministries to use this article in the magazine P31 Woman and its promotion, as well as in other facets of Proverbs 31 Ministries, including radio programs and website.