His blue eyes twinkle when he looks at her. When he smiles, the wrinkles around his eyes crease even deeper.
“Do you know what?” he says, with a conspiratorial whisper. “I still love her.”
She laughs. “After seventy years, too! He has an amazing way of overlooking all my faults and only remembering the good things.”
Her statement seems to encapsulate the carefree joy they have in each other.
“I got a good thing when I married her,” he tells me.
I hear this story almost every day now. He does not remember that he told me the same thing yesterday. Every day she’s just as sweet to him as she was the day before.
Sometimes, though, he is sad. He knows that he is weak and cannot do much. “I guess it’s the women who do everything,” he says with a sigh as he watches his wife fold and put away laundry.
“Sure,” she replies, sarcasm underlining her words. “It was the women who built our daughters’ furniture and built our house in Indonesia. It was the women who trekked through the jungle. It must have been the women who started the Bible school and the orphanage too.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“You,” she says. “You did all of that and more.”
“I did?” he asks incredulously. “I can’t remember.”
It’s true. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember the army man who was assigned to the communications division in Italy during WWII or the man who thought he would become a mortician. He doesn’t remember enrolling at Bob Jones College or even meeting his wife. She says that he pursued, but she was cautious. She was following God’s call to be a missionary and thought that meant she would be single all her life. Yet God called him to be a missionary too, so on a hot summer day in August of 1948, they joined their lives together. Four years later, equipped with bachelor's degrees and a couple years of experience in the pastoral ministry, they set off for Dutch New Guinea (now called West Papua, Indonesia) to teach, preach, and establish churches.
It was hard at first, especially when they found out about the brutal murder of the two missionaries who were supposed to meet and train them. But they persevered - learning the language, adjusting to the climate and culture, and being so far from home. By the time they had been there 14 years, they had seen God save many people from their bondage to sin and churches were established. Harold started a Bible college to train pastors and leaders. Then, in a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, he was accused of being a CIA spy and sent to solitary confinement in a prison in Jakarta. It took seven months of negotiations to get him released. Hostage in Jakarta, a book on the table next to his recliner, reminds him of that time.
The years after Indonesia are foggy too. Unable to return to Indonesia, the mission sent them to Trinidad. After three years, they returned to the U.S. where he pastored churches in Illinois and Iowa. Yet the desire to serve abroad was still strong, so when an opportunity arose to work in the Philippines, they went. Their adopted Filipina daughter is the jewel they brought back when they returned. She is now a constant reminder of his time there. When Harold’s aging mother needed them, he became the Missions Director for AMG International in Chattanooga. He still traveled the globe, balancing a myriad of details and obligations, while his wife stayed home. As his secretary, she was his right hand both at work and at home.
Most people thought his retirement from AMG at 77 years of age ended his ministry career, but retirement did not suit him. He still had more to offer. Was there a church that needed a pastor but could not afford to pay one? With his retirement income, he could do that. He found one in Maine. Many of their contemporaries thought they were crazy to move again, but they loved serving God together. He pastored there for five years before the Maine winters and his arthritis forced him to move south again.
Muriel’s adventuresome spirit is evident when she reflects on the way God led them. Over the years, they have moved at least 30 times. Every time, sadness engulfed her as she left friends behind, but she was ready to embrace the next adventure. She stood behind him, encouraging him to go forward for God. She gave birth to six children, and then they adopted one more and fostered more than 40 others along the way. Harold enjoys telling people that they have one and a half dozen children. “One,” he says with a pause, “and a half dozen.”
Muriel admires him. Sure, he is weak now and his memory is failing, but he has given his all for God. Together, they have followed God’s leading all along the way. Now it is not as easy to pick up and go, though Muriel is still active. She seems to think that it is normal to be teaching Sunday School at 92. And why should she give up on helping with Vacation Bible School? If you were to ask her if she wanted to go on a missions trip to Africa, she would ask, “When are we leaving?” She is still ready to go and do whatever God asks at any time, though right now that is at her husband’s side.
They are a good match. For seventy years, they have put each other’s needs before their own. Choosing to overlook each others’ faults, they have found joy in supporting each other. With hard work and prayer, their dreams and goals have been focused on pleasing God. And although they know it is impossible, they wish they could have seventy more years together.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I wrote this in the weeks leading up to their seventieth anniversary. God enabled them to have almost seventy-one years together before He took Dad home.
 |
| At their seventieth anniversary celebration |
“Do you know what?” he says, with a conspiratorial whisper. “I still love her.”
She laughs. “After seventy years, too! He has an amazing way of overlooking all my faults and only remembering the good things.”
Her statement seems to encapsulate the carefree joy they have in each other.
“I got a good thing when I married her,” he tells me.
I hear this story almost every day now. He does not remember that he told me the same thing yesterday. Every day she’s just as sweet to him as she was the day before.
Sometimes, though, he is sad. He knows that he is weak and cannot do much. “I guess it’s the women who do everything,” he says with a sigh as he watches his wife fold and put away laundry.
“Sure,” she replies, sarcasm underlining her words. “It was the women who built our daughters’ furniture and built our house in Indonesia. It was the women who trekked through the jungle. It must have been the women who started the Bible school and the orphanage too.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks.
“You,” she says. “You did all of that and more.”
“I did?” he asks incredulously. “I can’t remember.”
It’s true. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember the army man who was assigned to the communications division in Italy during WWII or the man who thought he would become a mortician. He doesn’t remember enrolling at Bob Jones College or even meeting his wife. She says that he pursued, but she was cautious. She was following God’s call to be a missionary and thought that meant she would be single all her life. Yet God called him to be a missionary too, so on a hot summer day in August of 1948, they joined their lives together. Four years later, equipped with bachelor's degrees and a couple years of experience in the pastoral ministry, they set off for Dutch New Guinea (now called West Papua, Indonesia) to teach, preach, and establish churches.
It was hard at first, especially when they found out about the brutal murder of the two missionaries who were supposed to meet and train them. But they persevered - learning the language, adjusting to the climate and culture, and being so far from home. By the time they had been there 14 years, they had seen God save many people from their bondage to sin and churches were established. Harold started a Bible college to train pastors and leaders. Then, in a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, he was accused of being a CIA spy and sent to solitary confinement in a prison in Jakarta. It took seven months of negotiations to get him released. Hostage in Jakarta, a book on the table next to his recliner, reminds him of that time.
The years after Indonesia are foggy too. Unable to return to Indonesia, the mission sent them to Trinidad. After three years, they returned to the U.S. where he pastored churches in Illinois and Iowa. Yet the desire to serve abroad was still strong, so when an opportunity arose to work in the Philippines, they went. Their adopted Filipina daughter is the jewel they brought back when they returned. She is now a constant reminder of his time there. When Harold’s aging mother needed them, he became the Missions Director for AMG International in Chattanooga. He still traveled the globe, balancing a myriad of details and obligations, while his wife stayed home. As his secretary, she was his right hand both at work and at home.
Most people thought his retirement from AMG at 77 years of age ended his ministry career, but retirement did not suit him. He still had more to offer. Was there a church that needed a pastor but could not afford to pay one? With his retirement income, he could do that. He found one in Maine. Many of their contemporaries thought they were crazy to move again, but they loved serving God together. He pastored there for five years before the Maine winters and his arthritis forced him to move south again.
Muriel’s adventuresome spirit is evident when she reflects on the way God led them. Over the years, they have moved at least 30 times. Every time, sadness engulfed her as she left friends behind, but she was ready to embrace the next adventure. She stood behind him, encouraging him to go forward for God. She gave birth to six children, and then they adopted one more and fostered more than 40 others along the way. Harold enjoys telling people that they have one and a half dozen children. “One,” he says with a pause, “and a half dozen.”
Muriel admires him. Sure, he is weak now and his memory is failing, but he has given his all for God. Together, they have followed God’s leading all along the way. Now it is not as easy to pick up and go, though Muriel is still active. She seems to think that it is normal to be teaching Sunday School at 92. And why should she give up on helping with Vacation Bible School? If you were to ask her if she wanted to go on a missions trip to Africa, she would ask, “When are we leaving?” She is still ready to go and do whatever God asks at any time, though right now that is at her husband’s side.
They are a good match. For seventy years, they have put each other’s needs before their own. Choosing to overlook each others’ faults, they have found joy in supporting each other. With hard work and prayer, their dreams and goals have been focused on pleasing God. And although they know it is impossible, they wish they could have seventy more years together.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I wrote this in the weeks leading up to their seventieth anniversary. God enabled them to have almost seventy-one years together before He took Dad home.
