Читать книгу Seeking Silver - Karen Y. Barnstable - Страница 15

Chapter 5

Questioning

I lingered over my second cup of coffee, gazing at the sparkling set of rings on my finger. Life had slowed down to a relaxing crawl after a whirlwind of events the past two months.

It started with my convocation from university, followed by a few short weeks of planning for our wedding day, topped off with our two-week honeymoon in Florida. Three incredible photo albums of beautiful memories were already behind me. I tried to focus on the perfect images from the amazing days of the last two months and ignore the familiar cloud of uncertainty that was threatening to rob me of my current state of joy.

Despite the joy and excitement of our engagement, the months leading up to our wedding brought some unexpected concerns. Kim was still living on the farm in southeast Saskatchewan, and I was back in Saskatoon, so we had to endure the five-hour distance between us from Christmas till June. Our demanding lives in opposite corners of the province lacked connection. Kim was back working on the farm, and I was finishing my practicum for teaching in Radisson, north of Saskatoon. Our communication via distance seemed empty of emotion. We met a few times to attend our premarital counselling, but the sessions were frustrating. Rather than help us understand each other better, they put more strain on our relationship. I began to question how well I really knew this guy who had captured my heart and if we were well-suited for each other or not. I began to pray in a different way for my future husband.

Dear Lord, You know my thoughts and fears about the man I am about to marry and the new life I will be starting with him. I thought I knew him, but some days, Lord, I am not sure. And does he really know me? Are we going to be good for each other? Will I be content living on a farm in south Saskatchewan? I have so many questions, Lord, and so I pray that if we are not meant for each other You would stop or block our plans. If this is truly meant to be, please calm my worries and guide our possible future together in every way. Thank You, Lord. Amen.

The day of our wedding was a rare day of perfect weather in Swift Current, Saskatchewan—sunny with no wind. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. My oldest sister helped me with all of the planning details for the wedding. With her tasteful guidance, our colours of lilac infused with yellow accents were chosen. My bouquet of purple orchids with yellow roses was a standout feature that went well above the budget—nearly giving my dad a heart attack when he saw the bill a few weeks later.

The ceremony and the reception took place without a hitch, all according to plan, until an unexpected interruption near the end of the evening. The reception ended abruptly with a crazy attempt by Kim’s cousins to steal the bride, an outdated tradition that lingered among Kim’s family and friends. A ridiculous high-speed car chase took place like a scene out of a bad movie. The groom fled at full speed, his new bride at his side, with the cousins right behind in hot pursuit. Fortunately, no one was injured, and the only traces of the incident later were some car tracks on lawns and a dent in the bumper of my dad’s Lincoln. My groom and I ended up safely back at the Horseshoe Hotel banquet room in time to express appreciation and farewell to our guests.

Much more important than the exquisite flowers or crazy car chases on our wedding day was my state of mind that perfect June day. The cloud of uncertainty that formed in my mind during our engagement was nowhere in sight. Not a single doubt or worry existed in my mind as we said our vows to each other on June 19, 1982.

Our two weeks in Florida floated by like blissful scenes on a honeymoon brochure coming to life. We toured around in our rented convertible, soaked up sun on the beach, revelled in the sights of Busch Gardens, and laughed at the kissing seals performing at Sea World.

When we returned to southeast Saskatchewan, we had a home waiting for us. Kim had rented a house trailer and moved it onto an empty lot in the town of Macoun, 20 minutes from Estevan. It arrived in a filthy mess, but my mother-in-law and my sister-in-law lovingly scrubbed it clean and moved our wedding gifts inside. It was a comfortable home, but only temporary, as Kim had already started building us a new home on an acreage a few miles outside of Macoun.

The fun and spontaneity of our honeymoon life faded quickly as we settled into the reality of our new lives in rural Saskatchewan. That was when the familiar cloud of concern rolled back in. Even though we lived under the same roof, our days were consumed with our individual work lives. Kim worked long hours on the farm and whenever possible worked on the building of our new house. By September, I was completely consumed with the demands of my first teaching job, so I left all of the decisions about the house with Kim. I felt guilty about not helping more with house decisions, but staying on top of daily teaching lessons plus coaching volleyball left little time or head space for house details. All I could do was pray for Kim and hope that God would give him wisdom to make good choices.

We had only been married six months when we moved into our brand new two thousand square foot ranch-style home on our acreage in a bare field. Our windows peered out to nothing but dirt and a water well. The inside was just as sparse since we barely had enough furniture for one of the rooms.

It didn’t take long to move our few belongings into our new home. Life in the trailer had been cozy and close. I wondered if life would be as good in the new spacious home outside of town. When I got home from school, I wandered aimlessly from one freshly painted room to the next, trying to bask in the luxury of this huge blessing.

It’s so big and beautiful, but it’s empty and cold. Not a neighbour in sight. How will we stay close to each other in this house?

The threat of losing desired closeness with my new husband loomed in my mind as I tried to adjust to our new home in the country. I attempted to push all of the clouds of uncertainty away with prayer.

Dear Lord, I pray for Your blessing over our new home out in the country, in the bare field. Even though it is brand new and huge, it seems kind of empty and lonely. I pray that it will start to feel like a home, not just a house, as we get more settled. Lord, You know that I am just barely keeping my head above water with my teaching job, and I feel bad about not helping more with the house details. I thank You, Lord, for all of the knowledge about houses You have given to Kim and for all of the good decisions he has made. I also thank You for all of the help we have received from family to build and finish it. I pray that You would be honoured in our marriage and in our lives in this new house. Continue to bless us as a team of husband and wife in our new home, I pray. Amen.

Once again, my worries were in vain as life on the acreage became satisfying in a different way. We invested in new furniture, one piece at a time. We planted grass and hundreds of trees, and our farmyard began to take shape. With both of us making a good income we had no financial concerns. We made large payments on our mortgage and planned to have the home paid for in five years. It felt like we were getting established and would live there forever.

We’re getting there, God. We’re starting to find strength as a couple.

Little did we know that there would be many more homes, in many different places, and many more clouds in our future lives together. Change would come in the most unexpected ways, and our barely adjusted marriage in our new home in the country would be challenged to the core.