A Little About Me

A little item has been floating around on facebook lately. It's called "25 Random Things About Me". I have enjoyed reading them and finding out little known things about my facebook friends. I posted some "random things" about myself, but found it was hard to do! Well, it was hard to post any interesting ones off the top of my head.
I gave it some more thought, and decided to give it a second try here. I hope you don't mind. If you have a blog and decide to do the same, please let me know!

1. I have had three root canals all because of having fillings which got too close to the nerves of my teeth.
2. My endodontist in Austin (a doctor who does root canals all day, every day) was so nice that I sent him a thank you note!
3. I have had so much work done to the teeth mentioned above, that I know their numbers, and a few other facts about dentistry in general. (They were #19,#30, and #31. C'mon, you were curious about it, right? No? oh.)
4. I can only wear earrings with solid gold posts. I am allergic to the "hypoallergenic" kind. However, I can wear them for brief intervals with no ill effects.
5. My husband and I moved 950 miles away when I was seven months pregnant with my first child.
6. The doctor who delivered my first child was Iranian. This means I could not understand him when he spoke to me.
7. I change my sheets every Friday. So, now you know not to come by that day. I'm busy. =)
8. I love to organize closets and cabinets! I just re-organized my pantry this week! It was a blast!
9. I have an Uncle who was paralyzed over 30 years ago, yet this has not kept him from farming the entire time. He also has a great sense of humor!
10. I never met my paternal Grandfather. He died when my Dad was 21 years old, before he married my Mom.
11. My Dad never got over the death of his father. I can see why now.
12. My Mom would stay up very late talking and listening to me when I was teenager, even though she had to get up at 4:30AM every day to go teach school. She never complained. I appreciate that so much more now that I'm a mom!
13. I became an Aunt at age 11. My brother and his wife had my nephew, Levi. I adored him! I was always a willing babysitter! :)
14. My brother was the principal of my Christian school when I was in 4th - 6th grade.
15. I used to get in trouble for calling my brother by his first name while I was at school. To remedy this, I called him "Bro. Kevin" at home. Till he told me to quit. There's just no pleasing some people! (Just kidding! Don't panic, I love my brother!)
16. I get very disappointed when I log in to blogger and there are NO COMMENTS. It is such a bummer.
17. My husband has a wonderful sense of humor! Look who he married! :)
18. Both of my grandfathers were orphaned very young, but still managed to grow up to be successful and raise wonderful children.
19. I was the first woman to be published in the devotional booklet "Baptist Bread". My article appeared Dec. 28, 2008.
20. My husband and I went out to eat at Red Lobster for his birthday in 2002. He ate lobster for the first time that night. That date ended up costing us $600. We spent the remainder of the evening in the ER because he found out he was allergic to lobster! He went into anaphylactic shock. Needless to say, we didn't go out to eat again for a long time!
21. Some of the best lady friends I have, I met in Lawrence, Kansas. It was a hard time in my life, yet the Lord sweetened it so much by placing these ladies in my life.
22. I love the smell of a new Bible!
23. One of my close friends (we met at youth camp when we were 15) is leaving with her family to go to Brazil on March 31! Who would have ever thought I'd be privileged to be close friends with a missionary!
24. My doctor here told me to call him at home and check in with him after my most recent appointment. Three cheers for small town America! :)
25. I homeschool my children, but I believe I am learning far more than they!

He Gave Me His Life...Insurance

Today, I am celebrating eleven wonderful years as "Mrs. Terry Basham, II". If I had been able to find a good price on a scanner, I would be showing you our wedding photos. Perhaps I can do that in the future.
Terry and I got married at nineteen years of age! I don't think we drugged our parents to get them to agree to this, but maybe someone did...what were they thinking? I suppose they had the same faith that we did, that while life wasn't easy, when you have the Lord and someone you're deeply in love with, it will all be okay.
Terry was making $6 and some change per hour when we said "I do". He was not able to get any vacation time because he was in the midst of an annual inventory at work. So, instead of going to Washington D.C. (we both love history), we went to a quaint resort in Heber Springs for a two day honeymoon. He sold his truck to get the money for a nice honeymoon, but when we realized that our tiny duplex didn't have a refrigerator, we spent over half of it on that. I still have the fridge by the way, and it holds a special sentimental value to me. I sometimes look at it and imagine that it is a Hawaiian beach, or a cruise ship.
We didn't have much money back then. We still don't. Four children, eight moves, and hundreds of dollars of medical expenses (from having no medical insurance) have sucked away any hopes of financial prosperity.
Many folks would shake their heads at our "foolishness", but they don't understand. I have something which money could never buy. I have a husband who would give his very life for me. In fact, he does, everyday. Everyday he gives us his time, and time is the stuff of which life is made. Everyday he tells me and our children that he loves us, by being around us and doing things with us.
Shortly after we moved to Texas, my husband purchased some life insurance. He was fearful that he might go on to Heaven before me, leaving me with four children to raise and no money. I appreciated his wisdom and foresight.
The premium isn't astronomical, but it's a good portion of our money. Once, when things were tight, I asked him if we could let that policy laps to save money. He said, "Valerie, I'll do whatever it takes to keep that policy. If I have to get second job, we're keeping that insurance."
I know, you're thinking, "What's the big deal?"
The "big deal" is love. My husband loves me enough to work a second job, not to buy a boat, or a deer lease, or a new truck - but to purchase life insurance for me and our children.

Today my husband wanted to take me to Hot Springs for an overnight stay, but financial constraints kept us from the trip. I was very disappointed because I had my focus wrong. I am thankful that the Lord shifted my focus and helped me see what really matters.

Terry, I love you with all that is in me. I'm so sorry I fail you - and you know I do- over and over! I let you down; I disappoint you. I wish I could be perfect, for the Lord and for you.
Thank you for loving me for over eleven years. I don't want dinner at Olive Garden or a trip to Hot Springs. I just want you.

Real Life with Lucy...I Mean Valerie!

It began one very hectic Friday evening. Our friends, Jeremy and Amanda Tyler, missionaries to Brazil, were coming to visit us for a few days. I was about to begin preparing supper, a Mexican Lasagna, when I decided to do a quick clean up first. I started picking up things and putting them away, ordering (sweetly of course) that my children do the same. I found several ornaments that had been knocked off of our tree and began putting them back on. That's when I noticed that the cardinal ornament that my Aunt Kathleen gave me had gotten a broken tail. "Super glue!" I thought at once. My Hubby got it for me. Being a "Mrs. Fix It", I quickly spread some on and began holding the tail in place.
Well, you guessed it. I found that I had not only glued the tail on, but also my thumb!

If you are an I Love Lucy fan, then you will recall the episode where Lucy accidentally glues a beard to her face...I sorta felt like that. I am glad, however, that I glued the bird to my thumb and not my face! That would have been worse!

We quickly began trying to remove the poor bird from my really poor thumb. We tried dabbing nail polish remover on the area. Nothing. Terry even tried to use his pocket knife to separate my skin from that bird - but the ringing in his ears from my shrill sceams put a stop to that!

Finally, after a quick web search, we discovered that I would have to soak my thumb in nail polish remover to get the cardinal off of my hand.

Hey, I love cardinals, but not enough to be glued to one.

I hope you get as many laughs from this as we have!



Yep, Valerie glued a cardinal to her thumb. I can now testify personally that super glue lives up to it's name. I could endorse them! ;)

The soaking begins.

And yes, dear friends, we're still soaking!

Finally, after about 20 minutes of soaking and pulling, the cardinal is removed from my poor, sweet, innocent thumb- who was only trying to repair the beautiful ornament! You can't trust wild animals, though. I learned that the hard way! They don't understand when we're trying to help them.

HURRAY!! Laci's happy for me, too.

There was minimal damage done to my thumb. The bird, however, had some paint removed due to his nail polish bath. I went against my usual OCD tendencies and just took red sharpie, colored him in and hung him back on the tree. I think I heard him breath a sigh of relief. Or was that Terry?

I was so busy getting the cardinal off of my thumb that I didn't get to prepare the Mexican Lasagna. Thankfully, we have several good restaurants in Hope. We took the Tyler's out to eat, and I made the lasagna the next night for them.

And, lest you think these "Lucy" moments are rare for me, I'll just share this. When I got ready to make the Lasagna, I realized I'd forgotten the diced tomatoes!

Ah well. Such is my life.

My Love Story ~ Part Sixteen

I know you are all rejoicing that the final chapter of my love story is about to commence. I suppose it’s time to give it a title, now that I’m finished with it! I’ll have to think about that one.
I have not spent a lot of time editing these installments. Thank you for enduring my split infinitives, run on sentences and paragraphs that lack unity. You may not have realized just how bad my writing is, or you may have just been too kind to correct me. Either way, I appreciate your reading. For previous installments, please click here.
Thank you, again, for your time and comments. They are not taken lightly.
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The morning of September 11, 1997, was no different from any other autumn morning in Arkansas. The air was crisp. The leaves were just beginning their metamorphosis from green and lush to gold, red and yellow. I left for work at my usual time, 7:45 AM. I drove down Janet Street, then onto Cody Street, and then to Military Road where I merged onto I-30. I would exit and drive into my parking space at the Baptist church next door to Landers. We were in the midst of a re-model at Landers, so all of the parking spaces were taken by new and used…er, I mean, previously owned vehicles or construction. During my drive, I enjoyed my Cathedrals tape and sang along. I remembered how in the previous months, I had driven this same path and sung along with those same tapes, but I did it to console myself. I was sad about having to end things with Mike, and I was frightened about what my future held.

Today, however, everything looked bright. I sang for joy! I enjoyed my job at Landers. We had recently sold our Oldsmobile line and purchased the Pontiac line. John Landers, my beloved boss and friend, had retired on April 15 of that year. I remember crying as I hugged him goodbye that day. My desk was positioned outside of his office, almost facing his door. I used to look in and see him busy at his desk, making notes, or phone calls. He would often glance up and make a joke or two throughout the day. When he would go get a cup of coffee, he would tease me about drinking cocoa. He was 64 years old, yet he treated me, a mere 19 year old, as though I were mature! Those of you who know me know that "mature" was not a good description of me then! Still, John overlooked my immaturity and managed to make me feel important. But, he did that for all of us ladies. I will never forget the day he met my older brother, Kevin. He shook his hand and told Kevin that I was the most consistently upbeat person he’d ever employed. I was so thrilled! It made my year to hear my boss, the owner of a huge auto company, compliment me to my older brother! I don’t know if Kevin thought much of the remark, but I did. I guess that’s pretty obvious since I still remember it some eleven years later. Now, his office was bleak. The furniture was there, but the knick-knacks that made it John’s were gone. The darkened office was a constant reminder that in fact, John was gone.

I admired and missed John greatly, but at least I still had George! George Newcomb was our General Manager. He was the guy who had the final say on what someone’s trade-in was worth. Another of his jobs was to sell the aforementioned trade-ins to wholesalers. He was in his mid-40s. He loved to rodeo and duck hunt. He, too, was very considerate of me and all the office ladies. Looking back, I think that my youth evoked a sort of "protection response" from everyone.

I often felt underestimated because I only answered a phone, all day, every day. The switchboard was more complex now that we had gone from 12 salesmen to 22. I also answered all parts and service calls which brought the grand total of calls to around 800 calls a day. But I longed to do more with computers, to use my brain more, but alas, I was good talker! George wanted me up front to greet customers and deal with irate ones on the phone (oh thanks!). The Lord knew where I would be best suited, so I stayed up front, doing the menial jobs.

I did the menial jobs until today, however. This day, Thursday, September 11, would be the most exciting day of my life! I got to my desk, as usual, and got started on the day. It was a regular day – parts calls, sales calls, service calls, paging, paging, and more paging. Watching lights on the switchboard to see if they were picked up, trying to beat the “ring backs” (when a call was on hold too long it would ring back to me, and that usually meant an unhappy person on the other end!). I had to apologize for keeping people on hold too long, and listen to them gripe about the hold message. They often tried to tell me what the matter was, hoping that I, a lowly receptionist, could solve the problem. I had to make excuses for lazy salesmen or for a very overworked parts and service department. I had to learn to be calm when others were angry and to be cheerful to someone who had just cussed me out, since his salesman was on another line. I had a good relationship with the salesmen and our parts and service people. I didn’t mind “going to bat” for them. I really liked the service folks. They did the dirty work – literally – and I tried to help them all I could. I suppose that’s why George thought of me when the job for Customer Relations Manager came open.

He called me into his office at the end of the day.

“Valerie, we have a new position opening up soon.” He said. “We need a customer relations manager. You would have to work with the all the unhappy people that come through our service department. Your job would be to work with them and the service department to get them happy, and to keep their business. You would get a raise, your own office and a demo vehicle.”

I was in shock. I was nineteen years old. This had been my first real job. I had worked for three months at Taco Bell when I was sixteen, but did that count? I had never been to even a community college and here I was being offered a job in management? I couldn’t believe it. My mind immediately raced back to my first days on the job. I remembered Proverbs 22: 29 Seest thou a man diligent in his business? he shall stand before kings; he shall not stand before mean men. I had claimed that verse when I started working at Landers. My mother had claimed Proverbs 16:7 when she faced opposition after becoming an elementary principal. I thought I should have a verse in Proverbs to claim, too. The Lord had truly blessed my work at Landers, and I give Him all the praise. My mother taught me, by her example, that we can trust God’s word. It may not happen exactly the way we plan or on our time table, but God will keep His word!

I came back to the present. George was looking at me from across his desk. I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to stand up, shake his hand, and say “I accept!” But, the other part of me said to wait. I waited.
“George, I really appreciate your considering me. In fact, I can’t believe you are considering me. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I asked laughing. He laughed and said that he did.
“Um, well, can I think about it?” I asked meekly, hoping he wouldn’t be offended.
“Sure! Let me know as soon as you can.” He said.

That evening, I arrived home at 5:30, my usual time. My Dad was home, but Mom wasn’t.
“DAD!! DAD!! GUESS WHAT??” I exclaimed as I burst through the kitchen door.
“What?” He asked.
“You’re never going to believe it!” I said, trying to catch my breath. “I got a promotion!! I was offered a job as customer relations manager!! I get a DEMO!! Can you believe it? I asked George if he knew what he was doing, and he said he did!” I continued my excited chatter for a while longer. Dad listened intently, soaking up each word. I could see he was happy for me.

“Valerie, I’m so proud of you.” He said after my motor mouth ran down. “You’ve worked really hard and I’m happy for you.” Those were the sweetest words I’d ever heard. To make my “partner” proud of me, like I was of him, what more could a girl want?

“Thank you, Dad. I don’t know if I’m going to take it. I wanted to see what you and Mom thought first. I told George I’d let him know soon.”

As soon as I arrived at church that night for my college class, I raced over to tell Terry the good news. He smiled and seemed okay about it, but he certainly wasn’t as thrilled as I was.

After class was over, he asked his Mom to go with us to get some ice cream at TCBY. We got our ice cream and sat down at one of the tables that were outside. We chatted for a while, and then I looked down to see Terry on one knee.

“Valerie,” he said. (Oh my! Was this what I thought it was?) “I talked with your Dad today, and said I had his permission to do this. I love you and only you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He said looking up at me with that intensity of his. “Will you marry me?” He reached up to take my hand and place a ring on my finger.
I could only gaze at the ring on my finger! I couldn’t believe this was happening! His mother had tears in her eyes as she finally said, smiling, “Is that a yes?”

“OH! Yes! It’s a yes!” I was glowing!

We went to my house to tell my parents the good news and show them the ring. It wasn’t a huge diamond, but it was mine. Terry had sold one of his guns to get the money to buy it for me. You see, it wasn’t purchased on credit or from the excess of a large bank account, but with love and sacrifice. A four caret diamond wouldn't be nearly as beautiful in my opinion.

We set the date for our wedding for four months later - January 2, 1998.

Oh, and the job? I didn’t take it. I stayed on as receptionist for a little over a year after that. What can I say? I was born to talk!

Through all of these events, and so many more since then, there has been one common thread. That thread is Jesus. He has led me, each and every step. I have begged for His leading. I have had to work, at times, to see His light when the path would grow dark, but I didn’t have to look for long! His light was there, bright and constant. The God that led Joseph and Moses and Joshua and Rahab and Esther and Ruth and Mary and Samuel and David…is the God that has led me.

I’m sure there are some folks, possibly even some Christians who think that God doesn’t do for people today what He did for those Old and New Testament Christians. True, His methods might be slightly different, but His work is still the same. Go ahead, read His word, talk to Him, trust Him. Yes, it requires faith and some sacrifice. But it will never be more than you can handle. Just take that first step of faith. You will never be sorry.

The End

The Beginning

My Love Story ~ Part Fifteen

Well, dear, faithful readers, the end is in sight! Tomorrow I will be posting the conclusion of my love story. (Conclusion isn't the right word. I'm adding new chapters to it daily, but you would get very tired of reading that!) If you have no idea what I'm talking about, then please click here. Oh, and one more thing.
Thank you for your time in reading. It means so much.
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Terry and I had now started dating, officially. I no longer tried to be just friends. I was no longer placing an invisible barrier around my heart. I had given it to him, at least in part, and I was now vulnerable. To break up now would be very difficult. It would be an “emotional divorce”, just like my break up with Mike had been. It was all or nothing for me, now. I was proud for everyone to know that we were a couple. Everyone seemed happy for us. A few folks had their doubts about Terry. Would he remain faithful to the Lord? Was he sincere, or just using me? They’re doubts were understandable. After all, it was now June. That meant that only six months earlier Terry had stood before our church to apologize for living a life that was not Christ like. He had been known to date girls and then dump them as a teenager. I knew this because I had known him as a teen. Well, I knew more of his reputation than I knew of him. But, wasn’t it the same thing? Was I so naïve to believe that in such a short time he had developed new habits and knew ideas? I knew it was a risk, but loving anyone is a risk. A man that has never even dated a girl before has the potential to do wrong to her. A man is, after all, still just flesh and bone. I suppose that life is mostly a series of calculated risks. With the Lord leading us, however, the percentages for success go way up! I had my parents' and my pastor's blessing on our relationship. But what was even better, was that I had found peace from the Lord myself, on my own. I had read my Bible and prayed and I found peace.

I cannot fully describe to you how I felt about Terry. It was so much more than just good chemistry. It was more than that “mushy” feeling you get in your stomach when a handsome guy comes along. It was a feeling of peace and security that I had never felt with anyone outside of my own family before. Perhaps some of this was due in part to the fact that I had done a lot of soul searching and decision making in the seven months after I ended things with Mike. I had decided that I would be single, if that was what God wanted for me. I suppose I hadn’t surrendered myself to that possibility until then. I had always had the very immature assumption that a Christian lady could not be happy unless she married. My eyes had been opened to the reality of what a poor relationship would be like by my experience with Mike. I realized that a life as a single lady would be far better than life in a bad marriage. As the days and weeks and months came between me and that final moment with Mike, the more relieved I felt. I found myself feeling like someone who swerved at the last minute to avoid a head-on collision. There I sat, parked in the median of my life, shaking and breathless. I was in total shock and amazement. Since that moment, I had day dreamed about what my life with Mike would have looked like – I shudder to even think of it now. I would describe for you what type of person Mike has since become, but there is no good in that. Let’s just say that my very best Friend came through for me, as always. I am even more thankful today than I ever was then. I wasn’t going to “settle” again. Terry was so very different than any guy I had known. He was so confident in his choices. He had walked on the wild side and had suffered for it. He had a family that was firmly grounded in the Bible, whereas Mike did not. Terry also had some great men of God who had been praying for him during those turbulent teen years - Dr. Ken Graham (my pastor) and Bro. Tim Green, to name two. He’d also had to work and pray very hard to even get my attention. In my heart, I thought that counted for something.
Terry, once again, was leaving flowers and notes on my car. He called me often, too. The notes and calls were not as frequent. That was good for both of us. We both needed some breathing room. Terry had stayed in our college dorm during the entire month of June. Many folks, including his parents, were expecting him to go home, to Indiana, where his Dad was pastoring.
“So, you’re not going home for the summer?” I asked him one balmy June night.
“Nope, I’m stayin’ here.” He replied.
“Why? Aren’t you sick of living in that terrible dorm? It doesn’t even have a window! And you’ve had to do so much work on it! Didn’t you install your own lavatory?”
“Yeah, but it’s not so bad, especially now that everyone else has gone home for the summer. I don’t care what it’s like. I’m staying here for you. I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t leaving without you.” He said.
At that moment, my heart lept inside of me and I turned to mush. But I didn't dare let him see that!
“You sure are determined, aren’t you?” I said with a laugh, trying to hide the fact that my knees were about to buckle. He looked at me so intently. It felt as though he could read my mind. I seemed to always be blushing when he was around. He still enjoyed getting my back up, by saying something that he knew would light a fire in me, but it was okay. I realized now that it was all in good fun. I had also decided that if I couldn’t laugh at myself, then who could I laugh at?
“Well, I am honored that you would stay here, in Arkansas, just for me, but I’m leaving in a few months for college.” The words hung in the air. Suddenly, our time together seemed shrouded in sadness. The thought of being away from him – even though we’d only even been friends for six months – seemed 100 times worse than the thought of being away from Mike had been. How would I manage? I wondered if he would find someone else, or if I would. I was actually more afraid of the latter. Since meeting Terry, I felt pretty. I was more sure of myself. I no longer felt the need to apologize for breathing. I had gained a confidence that I had longed for my entire teenage life. I'm not sure if it was my relationship with Terry that changed me, or having to trust God through heartbreak that made the difference. Perhaps it was both.
After a long silence, Terry smiled. He gave me a wink and said, “Well, I’m praying about that.”
“Really?” I said with a smile “Well then I guess I don’t need to worry.” We both laughed and once again forgot the inevitable separation that loomed ahead.

Terry and I dated every week that summer, sometimes more than once a week, but always chaperoned. We discussed life, ministry, family and the future. He continued writing me, calling me and giving me small tokens of his ever growing admiration.
I decided it was now time to return his affection. I had planned to tell him that I loved him sometime when he would least expect it. I didn’t want him to think it was a response to his love for me, but a decision that I had made on my own. On July 31, as we sat across from each other at our local church hang out – Taco Bell- I looked at him and said “Terry,” He looked into my eyes. That always gave me pause. Maybe he will just be able to read my mind? I thought.
“Terry,” I began again, “I love you.”
He smiled, letting the words sink in.
“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that! You do? Really?” He asked me, beaming.
“Yes, really. I wanted to pick the right time to tell you.”
“Valerie, you've made me so happy. I love you, too.”

Soon, August was upon us. Four short weeks before the new school year began there in Arkansas and in Indiana, where I would be going. If I didn’t want to leave before I met Terry, I sure didn’t want to leave now that I'd decided to love him! If I did leave, I wanted to leave as Mrs. Terry Basham, II and be going with Terry Basham, II! But, I had given Dad my word. My Grandfather had taught me that a lady is only as good as her word. I would go.
I had my application and references for college ready. I had gotten my physical. I had done everything but pack and pay! Things were moving toward moving day. Then, all at once, everything changed. Due to a chain of events that I will not go into, my Dad came to me one afternoon in early August and told me that I was not going to that particular college. This college where my brother and sister attended is still loved by my family. My Dad just felt that the Lord did not want me to go there. God’s plan is very specific for each one of us. Through the authority of my parents, I found that God did not want me to attend this school. I was so happy! I had told my Dad that unless he told me not to go to college, I would be going. Once again, I have only appreciated this decision more and more as the days have passed. I have taken the path that the Lord wanted me to take. I once heard my Pastor tell us that David prayed for a “plain path” from the Lord (Psalm 27:11). He didn’t ask for an easy path or a fun path, but a plain or clear path. I, too, have prayed that prayer many times since hearing that sermon. God has truly answered my prayer. He has always made clear the path I should take.
I could hardly contain my joy! I wasn’t in the habit of calling boys, even one whom I was dating, so I didn’t call Terry to tell him. The next day was Sunday. I would tell him before I left on the bus route.
As soon as I saw him, I ran over, my face beaming with joy. I couldn’t smile big enough!
“Terry, guess what!” I said. It looked as though it was still early for him. I don’t think he’d had his coffee yet.
“What?” He asked.
“I’m not going to college!” I exclaimed. “My Dad told me yesterday that I’m not going!” I told him the story.
“Can you believe it?”
“No, I can’t.” He said. “I feel like my heart is going to explode!” Now we were both beaming! I was so happy to be staying near him, though I didn’t tell him. I still tried to keep some mystique in the relationship.
I had no idea how quickly things would be changing for me. Would I be ready?
Well…ready or not, here they came.

To be continued tomorrow…

Please tune in for the final installment!

December 5, 1993

I'll remember this date forever. I remember I was fifteen. I remember that I had planned a wonderful Christmas party for myself and my friends on this particular date in history. We were going to play "Taboo" and "Pictionary". I was going to make a Christmas Poke Cake for the occasion. Which, by the way, happens to be my favorite Christmas dessert! It's a two layer, white cake. After you bake it, you poke both layers all over with a fork. Then, you prepare Jell-O water and pour it over the cake. You do one layer with green Jell-O and one layer with red. Next it goes into the fridge. The Jell-O hardens, and you can then frost it with Cool Whip. It is dee-lish! I'm sure I had other items on the menu, but I cannot recall them exactly. I know that I had invited my friends, who are still my friends to this day. Bethany, Audri, Audrey (yes we had two!), Becky, Karen, and Dixie...yes. Dixie.
It is with Dixie that my story begins.

I had spent the Friday evening of December 4, 1993, with Dixie. We have known each other since I was about four and she, five. We both attended Hot Springs Baptist Temple in Hot Springs, Arkansas. (Now known as Heritage Baptist Church in Hot Springs.) My family moved to the nearby town of Benton and we lost track of each other. When I was eleven, her family began attending my home church in Benton. Our hearts were knit! However, when I was twelve, Dixie's Dad surrendered to work in evangelism. He assisted Dr. Jack Parchman in his tent meetings. That meant they would travel most of the year! I had already said goodbye to my sister when she left for college, and now, my best friend would be moving away, too! It was a dark day in my life. But the Lord used it for good. It was through Dixie that I met my husband, so I am thankful for the pain of separation. Romans 8:28 is true for even the smallest events in our lives.
Dixie was usually home for the winter. Her family lived in their camper trailer all year long to keep expenses down. They would hook up their camper to our church and attend our school. I've always loved the winter, and I think I finally see why! It meant that Dixie would be home! Dixie invited me to spend the night at her house and help me get ready for the party the next day. Because her camper wasn't large enough for one more, we "camped out" in our church nursery.
I remember we stayed up very late that night...till about midnight! We then made pallets on the floor of the church nursery. We noticed a strange smell, but it was nothing I'd ever smelled before.
"I know what natural gas smells like." I assured her. "And that isn't it, so we don't need to worry."
My family had always warned me about the dangers of natural gas. "If you smell gas, leave the house immediately. Go across the street to the Corbin's or the Logan's house and call for help. Do not turn on lights. Do not make a phone call from home. Only one tiny spark could blow the whole house up." This very thing had happened to lady and her three daughters in our town. They had all perished because the lady had turned on the light to investigate the gas leak.

No one had ever told me about carbon monoxide.

We snuggled up in our sleeping bags and went to sleep.
We slept for eight good hours.

At around eight o'clock the next morning, something awoke me with a start. I felt horrible. My head ached and I was extremely dizzy.
"Dixie. I don't feel so good. I think it's the heat." I mumbled. I got no response.
I got up, and tried to turn the heat down, thinking that I had gotten too hot.
"Dixie. Are you awake?" I asked her again. She finally moaned and stirred a little.
"I'm sick, Dixie. I think I'm gonna havta cancel my party!" I wailed.
"I feel sick, too." Dixie said. She was now propped up on one arm. "VALERIE!" She said suddenly. "It's that gas! We feel funny from whatever that gas smell was!"
"I better call my parents and go home." I said trying to head for our church office.
I got to the office, but could not remember my phone number! I sat by the phone just staring at the numbers. We were so hot. Finally, I gave up trying to think of my number and I lay down on the cool tile floor in our church lobby. Somehow, Dixie made it out to the camper. She was pale and became sick to her stomach. I felt like I was on a carousel that would never stop!
Dixie's Mom came over and helped me out to their camper. She couldn't reach my parents. I then remembered something about their saying they would be Christmas shopping in Little Rock for the morning and would see me around noon. This was the day before cell phones.
Dixie's Mom didn't know what to do. She took us to see Mrs. Parchman, who was a Registered Nurse. (Interesting fact: Mrs. Parchman helped deliver Chelsea Clinton.) I remember that we stumbled up to her front door. Mrs. Parchman, opened the door, took one look at us and said to Mrs. Ault, Dixie's Mom, "Get them to the hospital now."
Mrs. Ault took us to the Children's Hospital in Little Rock. They rushed us past an overflowing waiting room. They finally got a hold of my family to get permission to treat me. I remember the nurse had to put Mom on a speaker phone to have witnesses that Mom said they could treat me. I remember hearing the nurse say, "Okay, Mrs. Courtney, I need to ask you that one more time over the speaker phone. Do we have permission to treat your daughter....(the rest was garbled in woozy brain). Mom calmly replied. "Yes." I wanted to say, "Mom, I'm right here! Can you come up here NOW?" But, I didn't. I didn't need to. My Mom and Dad were soon by my side. What a comfort a loving Mom and Dad are!
They led us back to have blood drawn. A poor intern nurse tried seven times, unsuccessfully, to draw blood on my right arm. Another nurse finally came in and did it after only two times in my left. To this day I won't let them draw blood on my right arm! I bore bruises from that first nurse's attempts for a week.
Dixie and I stayed together through it all. We found out that it was, in fact, Carbon Monoxide poisoning. The exhaust from the heat in the nursery was not properly ventilated. Instead of escaping out doors, it came right in to our room. We were very thankful that it had happened to us, instead of a tiny infant or child! The carbon monoxide molecule replaces the oxygen molecule in your blood. This fools your body into thinking you are getting the oxygen you need, when you in fact, you are not. It is like suffocating the painless way. I had 15% of my blood replaced with the carbon monoxide. Dixie had 19%! That explained why I awoke first and easier than she. Of course, technically, neither of us should have woken on this side of Heaven. Once 25% of your blood is contaminated with carbon monoxide, you must be placed in an iron lung. Thank the Lord, neither of us were that bad. The doctors put us on oxygen, and there we remained for the entire day, into the evening. Once our blood oxygen levels were normal, they dismissed us, informing us of just how lucky we were.

But I know differently. I know it was not luck. I know exactly why I awoke that morning of December 5, 1993. I believe that it was because my guardian angel was there, shaking me until I did awake. Dixie has always been my best friend on earth. It was my very best friend, however, who took care of us both that night.

I praise the Lord for His watch-care over me. I praise the Lord for his protection on December 5, 1993.

Psalm 91:11 For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.

City Girl Solutions

We recently attended a bonfire at a church member's house. At the bonfire, we did something that I haven't done for years - we roasted hot dogs and marshmallows! DEEE-LISH! I love roasted marshmallow's!! This is something that I, as a city girl, do not get to enjoy too often. While growing up, my Dad would sometimes roast marshmallows for me over the fire in the fireplace. It brings back sweet memories! *sigh*

While purchasing groceries for our Thanksgiving Day meal this past Saturday, I noticed those giant marshmallows in the baking aisle. I picked them up. No, I do not have a fireplace. No, I do not plan on camping out anytime soon. (Although I think it would be nice to do that...once!) I planned on roasting them another way. Below are photos of the experience.

The STAR! Hello, Kraft Jet-Puffed Marshmallows! How have you been? It sure has been a loooong time! You haven't changed a bit.

Yep, you probably already knew where I was going with this. You people are so smart! Anyway, as I was saying, get your strong, handy husband to unwind a wire hanger and snip it down to a small size with wire cutters. Bat your eyelashes and look helpless. (Oh no! Did I just put that on here? I hope he doesn't read this! He'll find out all my secrets...oh well.) Place one - or three! - of those beautiful jet puffed marshmallow's onto the end of the hanger and rotate it over the flame of your gas stove. If you don't have a gas stove, then get out your camping equipment, and hurry! It's getting cold quickly!

If you have a gas stove, wire hanger, and our lovely star ready, then start cookin'! Get ready for that ooey-gooey, mouth watering taste of roasted marshmallows!!

When done properly, (Translation: when done the way you like them. You may like yours charred and black or maybe just barely dimpled. Whatever you like. We want you to have it your way. I'm here to please.) they are nicely browned with only slight blackening. This is what I call "Marshmallow Perfection"!

Next, it's time to clean up! Did you notice all that leftover marshmallow on the tip of your holder? Well, don't lick it off right away, that could result in serious injury! You could let it cool and just wash it, but that's so hum-drum. I have a more exciting method of clean up!

Simply hold your wire hanger (aka, marshmallow holder ) over the flame on your stove. I have no idea why the flame isn't showing in this photo. Probably because I'm using a point-n-shoot camera, or maybe it's because I'm a lousy photographer. Or maybe it's both! Anyway, let it flame up for a second or two.

Once you've held it for a few seconds (Please do not burn your house down.), remove it and let it cool down a moment. Then, take a paper towel and remove the black.

*Disclaimer: Valerie is not responsible for any injuries or home damage that may result from lazy roasting practices. Do not attempt if you are under 18 years of age. Do not attempt if you are accident prone. There. Did I cover all the bases?

Next, take a your SOS pad and....GASP!...I'm out of SOS pads! Okay, don't panic if you don't have SOS pads. Simply use a dishcloth and scrub it a little more with some dish soap.

Voila! You have a clean marshmallow holder, ready for use next time. Which in my case is right about now! (Don't worry if it's a little stained, it won't hurt you, I promise! Just look at me! I'm perfectly normal! :P )

I just wanted to throw this photo in for fun. It's just the sun reflecting on my faucet.

Another item I noticed when I was in the baking aisle recently, was Jet-Puffed Marshmallow's cousin, Marshmallow Creme! At that moment, inspiration hit! I decided to take my favorite cappuccino mix and couple it with Marshmallow creme! The result is a sensational twist on my morning routine! Oh, and go ahead and kill time by photographing inanimate objects. It's a hoot!

At first, Cappuccino would have none of it! He was so offended that I wanted to change him! He asked me, "Am I not good enough?" I explained that it had nothing to do with him, it was me! It was just me and my selfish desire to try something new.

He agreed to talk it through with Creme and try to come to a compromise...for me. I was so touched!

At last, they came to an agreement!! YEA! We've been living in harmony ever since!

Now, I can go on with the rest of my day at peace with myself and the world.

What? I heard that! I know I'm a little crazy and have a little too much time on my hands. You don't need to remind me. (sniff) The fact of the matter is, when you have very little talent, you must grasp at whatever amusements you can find. This one was very cheap (free) and made me laugh. Yes, I know, I need to get out more. You don't have to tell me that, either. Just be easy on me, people. Please? Oh, thank you!

Now, go on out there and be one with your morning beverage!

My Love Story ~ Part Fourteen

I can't believe I've dragged this story out for fourteen chapters, or posts, or whatever you want to call it. I apologize from the depths of my being if this has in any way discouraged you, bored you to tears, or disgusted you in general. Believe me, I understand those emotions, and I sincerely seek forgiveness. Thank you.
If you, however, do not understand what I am talking about, then click here to find out what you haven't been missing.
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I had ended my "relationship" with Terry. It was over. I enjoyed being pursued, for the first time in my life, and I enjoyed the distraction from the pain of ending things with Mike. BUT...I couldn't seriously consider marrying this man! I had spent my entire life of nineteen years in either Hot Springs or Benton, Arkansas, which happened to be only 20 minutes from Little Rock! I was a city girl in every sense of the word! He was raised in the country. He was a preacher's kid, my parents' both worked in the secular world. He hunted deer, and ate them. He fished, and ate them, too. He loved four-wheel-dive vehicles, guns, and boats. I knew nothing about deer, fish, trucks, guns or boats. I only knew about malls, subdivisions - like the one I grew up in- and going to beauty salons. (Not that it did much good, but I always felt better for trying.) For fun, I would go with my Mom on Saturdays to the school where she taught and helped her decorate her bulletin boards. We would eat hamburgers right in her classroom!! (I know! Can you think of anything more fun?) When she became a principal, I would type things for her and roam the halls. It was a very wild life! I realized one night, as I was second guessing my decision, that I had, in fact, done the right thing.I knew opposites attracted, but we were just too opposite! As I looked at him in his black wranglers and his very brightly colored western shirt, all doubt vanished from my mind. I just wasn't a western girl. His Mom told me that he'd always wanted a girl with a pickup truck and a bass boat. That wasn't I!
Terry called me at work the day after our "break up".
"Valerie, why do you think we should just be friends? Did I do something?" He asked me. He didn't sound angry, like he had been the night before.
"No, Terry, you didn't do anything. I just feel....well...."(I hated having this conversation! Didn't he know I had made plans for the next forty years of my life, and he wasn't in them?) "I just feel smothered!" I finally blurted out. "You call me all the time, you leave notes and flowers on my car, and you've already said you loved me! I'm just not ready for that!" I said, with the fire in my voice that he loved.
There was silence.
"I feel like I've just been re-paid for all the girls that I stood up, or broke up with after leading them on." He said. He actually sounded...humble!
"Look, I wasn't leading you on. I really liked you, I still do, but we are so very different! I just don't think it will work. And besides, I'm leaving for college in about two months. There's no way it will work."
We said our goodbyes, and hung up.
Something inside of me said "You might be making a mistake, Valerie." But I ignored it. I knew I'd done the right thing. I'd been making a list of qualities to look for in a future mate since I was twelve years old. He wasn't measuring up to most of them.

During this time, I expected to see him "on the rebound" and get another girlfriend. Two girls made their cases to him in one way or another. I just held my head high and pretended that I was sure of myself.
He didn't sit with anyone else. He didn't even flirt with anyone else! Now, that was something! In the past, he would flash that toothy grin of his in all directions when eligible girls were around. But not now. Whenever I was around him at church, I could feel him watching me.
A week or so passed. I noticed he started dressing better! He actually stopped wearing jeans and western shirts to every church service. He bought regular dress shoes instead of always wearing cowboy boots (and nothing against cowboy boots, I was just pleased to see the variety!). I noticed he ignored the girls who tried to flirt with him. I noticed that now I was watching him. Oh dear.
I started to miss being able to talk to him; to laugh with him. I missed his making fun of me, now that he was good natured about it. I missed his confidence. Okay, I'll admit it, I also missed that "butterfly" feeling I had whenever he was around me. One day, he had me so nervous that after we talked at my car, I pulled away from him in first gear. He leaned back in my window just as I moved forward, and said "Hey, Val, you're in the wrong gear." He then tapped my car and walked away. I looked down, and yep, he was right. He gave me the feeling that if I fell, he'd be there to catch me. I missed that security.
Deep down, I wanted give him another chance. I wasn't sure if I should, though. I talked to my Mom. She didn't know what to do, either. Now, let me just say that this was a new thing to me. My Mom always knew what to do. She had always been able to advise me from some past experience of her own, or tell me some Scripture that would apply. This time, she had nothing. She was stumped! I quickly ran to my room to record this moment in my journal. Okay, I didn't do that! I was just checking to see if you were awake!
"Valerie," Mom said to me while we prepared supper one night, (Translation: Mom made supper while I poured my heart out to her. I think I set the table or something.)"I think you should go talk to Bro. Graham about it. He knows Terry, and his family. Bro. Graham will know what you should do."
"Mom, Bro. Graham will just tell me to do what you say to do! He knows you and Dad are wise people, and he wouldn't want to take a chance on giving me advice that you wouldn't agree with or something." I explained.
"Okay," Mom said, thoughtfully. "Then go to him and say 'My parents don't know what I should do. They told me to do what you say to do.'"
"Okay. I guess it can't hurt to try."
As soon as I could, I cornered Bro. Graham to see if I could get some counsel. He was always so gracious by allowing young, dumb nineteen year olds to corner him! I explained that I had broken it off with Terry,aka, Bumper, and that now I was having second thoughts. I asked him if he thought Terry was sincere in his feelings for me. Bro. Graham said yes, he felt sure that Terry really did care for me.
"What should I do now?" I said, rather desperately. "I ended things with him! My parents said to tell you that they didn't know how to advise me, so whatever you say, goes."
"Well," Bro. Graham said, "Why don't you just talk to him? Or write him a letter?"
"You don't think that would be forward?" I asked. (Remember, I had vowed to never be forward again!)
"No, I don't." He said.
"Okay! I will! I'll write him!" I left his office feeling as though a load had been lifted.

I went home and penned a note to Terry, explaining that I did want to date him, but things had to slow down. I apologized for being so wishy-washy.I told him that I just needed to withdraw for a while and think things through. Basically, I did everything except beg. I left it in his mailbox at the college.

He made a bee-line for me after church one night, after he'd read my note.
"Valerie. I got your note." He said to me. "Are you sure you want me, Terry Lee Basham, II?" He asked me boldly.
"Yes! I'm sure. I like you! I just need things to slow down for a bit." I told him.

He smiled at me and gave me a wink, but he never made any promises.

To be continued...

My Love Story ~ Part Thirteen

Click here for previous details about my crazy romance. Thank you for reading! :)
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I had taken the plunge with Bumper..um, I mean Terry, as I was now calling him. I had actually gone on a date with him. Things had already been progressing swiftly in our relationship, but now...well, things were really heating up! He all but proposed to me during the aftermath of that first date. Wait a minute, now that I think about it, I believe he did propose to me!
One conversation, that flattered me and at the same time scared me a little, took place after church one Sunday night. Terry and I and several of our friends were chatting after church on the sidewalk. Somehow, the conversation shifted to how much Terry liked me.
"I'd crawl across two miles of broken glass just to kiss her feet." He said proudly. What? What did he say? I turned a deep shade of crimson. I'm sure you see what I mean. Flattering? Almost too flattering. I started shifting back and forth from one foot to the other. Everyone laughed. It was a joke. I was a joke! This guy was either trying to dupe me, or he was a little off his rocker. Some would say both! I wanted to make a quick exit, but there was no discreet opportunity for me to take my leave. Finally, the laughter and guffawing died down and my friends left. Terry walked me to my car.
"Maybe we could go out again sometime soon." He said, with emphasis on "soon".
"Uh, yeah, maybe." I said.
"I think you're wonderful, Valerie. I love your passion, your spunk. You remind me of my favorite dog." He said. And yes, he was being serious.
"Your favorite dog?" I asked in amazement. "Okay, Terry, what's the joke now? Because I'm not stupid. I'm not like some of the girls from your past, okay? I don't care how suave you are or how smart or handsome you are..."
"You think I'm handsome?" He interrupted me, grinning from ear to ear.
"I..I didn't say that. I just meant IF you were handsome, it wouldn't matter to me. Looks are not the most important thing." I said, trying to regain my serious tone.
"Well, I like your looks." He said raising his eyebrows and smiling.
"Thank you. But as I was saying, I don't care what you think. I don't wanna be like any one's DOG! Goodnight!" I said abruptly. I began getting into my car.
"Well you didn't let me finish! I wasn't calling you a dog. I was just saying you had spunk." He said while pulling me by the arm back out of my car. I jerked away from him and stood up on my own.
"HUH? What does a dog have to do with "spunk"? "
"When I was a kid I had a dog named Belle. She was a beautiful dog. I wanted to hunt with her. I'd take her out, and she would walk along beside me, like a bird dog. She wouldn't run after the scent. She was just along for the ride. And then, later on, I got a dog named Boots. Boots wasn't an ugly dog, but she wasn't as pretty as Belle. Boots would run as hard as she could looking for the scent. She'd dive in holes and she wouldn't quit until she'd gotten what she was after."
I stood listening with my arms crossed and a smug expression. I could not believe my ears.
"What are you saying? That I'm like the uglier of your two hunting dogs? You're telling me that I'm like a dog! I heard you with my own ears!" I said. If he wanted fire, he was gettin' it now!
"I'm telling you that you have passion. You're a go-getter. You're smart and funny and you have drive. That's what I'm telling you. But here you go gettin' up on your hind legs.. wait a minute! I DIDN'T MEAN THAT! " He said trying to prevent my having another outburst. "You know what I mean, don't you? You're more than just good looks. And looks do matter to me." He said with a wink.
"Yes, you've mentioned that." I said, turning away from him. "I'm really glad you like my "passion" and my "spunk". I'm glad I remind you of Babs." I said with a sigh.
"Boots." He corrected me.
"Whatever. But I really need to get home now. Thanks for....the compliment?" I said questioningly.
The next morning I found a small bunch of pink carnations and a card on the windshield of my car. He had written more of the same from the night before: he liked me, he enjoyed being with me, and so forth. He hadn't actually said "I love you" but he might as well have.
He began calling me at work on every break. That would be three times a day. He saw me at church. Every time I saw him, he began showering me with compliments and kind words.
I started to feel smothered. And I'm sure you're getting a little sick of it, too, right? Well, I understand! That makes two of us!
Then, it happened. One day, as I was in my car about to pull away from church he stopped me. I rolled down my window.
"Yeah?"
"I just wanted to tell you something." He said. There was a pause. I gave him the "I'm waiting" look.
"I love you."
There was a pause again. What should I do? I wasn't ready to commit to loving him! I liked him fine, but love? No. I just wasn't there yet.
"Thank you." I said smiling.
"You're not gonna say it back, are you?" He said with a knowing look. "I didn't think you would. But that's okay. I don't care if you say it or not."
I smiled a coy smile and rolled up my window. I left him standing there. He watched me drive away. What was I going to do? We had only been "dating" for about two months. This guy was really serious.
I was no longer smothered. Now I was suffocating. If we were meant to be together, then why did I feel this way? I finally decided that I had been wrong in feeling that our hearts were knit. I was so glad I'd never expressed these feelings to him before. I was so glad I hadn't uttered those three precious words to him. I would ask him if we could just be friends. Surely we could slow things down and just be friends. Surely.
After church on a Sunday evening, I decided to tell him how I felt. He was standing in our church lobby. Summer had just begun so it was still daylight after our evening service.
"Terry, I think it would be best if we were just friends." I just spit the words out as quickly as I could. I thought that if I said them nonchalantly, it would make it seem more friendly; less like an official "break up". His eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. I guess it was sinking in.
"Can we just be friends?" I asked as nicely as I could.
"No." He said flatly.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I guess this is it, then. Well. See ya later." I said as I backed away from him.
I chatted with a few friends for a while, but suddenly, I didn't feel like talking. I decided to just go home. No Taco Bell. Just Mom, Dad and Subway sandwiches. I longed for the sweet security of 2811 Karen Drive.
As I got into my car, I saw Terry out in our ball field, playing catch with a guy. He seemed really angry. I felt bad at first, but then I remembered that it really would have never worked. I was sure I had done the right thing.

Hadn't I?

To be continued...

My Love Story ~ Part Twelve

For previous installments of my rib-tickling romance, click here. Thank you! :)

Spring time had arrived in Arkansas! The grass was green, the air was cool, birds were singing and flowers were blooming! I had forgotten most of the pain and heartache of letting go of Mike way back in January. I was even starting to enjoy being "single" again! I could dream up all kinds of exciting things for my future. I was no longer tied down by a guy. I no longer had the guilt of tying a guy down to me, either! I had a fantastic future ahead of me. I would be leaving to go Hyles-Anderson College in five short months and then I would make a difference for the cause of Christ! I had dreams and plans...and this guy. What would I do about him?
We held our annual tent revival in the spring that year. It was now the end of April. Bumper and I were still just sitting at church together and talking. That was it. We'd never had any kind of date that wasn't a group outing. Well, except for that birthday party of mine...I shudder. Let's just forget about that one, okay? Well, Terry walked to my car along with me and my Dad after the meeting was over one night.
"Mr. Courtney, would it be okay if Valerie went with me and my Grandparents out to eat for my birthday next Friday?" He sounded nervous, but he was trying to hide it. He was nice looking...but I had a plan...I wouldn't notice things like that.
"Who would be going with you?" Dad asked him.
"My Grandparents, Jim and Betty Basham. They're coming down from Mattoon, Illinois, to see me next Friday."
"Oh." Dad was thoughtful for a moment.Those few seconds felt like an hour! Finally his verdict:
"I guess that would be okay." He said. Bumper looked at me and smiled. We both let out a silent sigh of relief.
"Thank you!" Bumper said to Dad. He was so much nicer when he wasn't blind and wincing in pain.
"I'll pick you up at 7." He said happily.
"OoooK. I'll be ready." I said with a laugh.
I turned to go home, deep in thought. WHAT was I doing??? He was NOT the guy for me? Was I just leading him on? That would be a first for him, to be lead on, instead of doing the leading on! Or did I like him??? Oh my goodness! I LIKED him!

Well, the work week dragged by. I was really nervous about this date with Bumper. What a dumb name, I thought to myself. It sounds so, so juvenile. "Hi, I'm Valerie, and I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Bumper." Nu-uh. It's not going to happen. I will not seriously date this guy. This is the guy who made fun of me at camp. This is the guy who used to date most of my friends. I cannot believe I'm going out with him.
Even though I felt like I was contradicting myself, I was happy. I was excited to be going out with him. Being with him was like having someone take my hand (figuratively, of course!) and say "Let me show you the world." He had been so many different places, and his outlook about church was so different. He had seen things from "behind the scenes" as a PK (preacher's kid), whereas I had always been on the outside looking in. He was smart, and witty. He had boldness. All of this was very attractive to me, but the most attractive thing about him, was that he liked me...a lot. I couldn't figure that out. I had never had a guy really interested in me. I was just never considered 'popular'. In fact, in ninth grade I had the crushing disappointment of being the only girl in my class who wasn't nominated for the homecoming court. That's right, with a whopping total of four girls in my ninth grade class, only the other three were chosen. I remember having to go to the Benton Courier newspaper office and stand to the side as I watched them all get their picture taken for the paper. Yes, this was a neon sign in my adolescence: You don't have what it takes to be liked, Valerie! Another tip off had been the fact that I'd had only three boyfriends prior to Mike, and they had all been pen pals. So, Bumper made my second real boyfriend. What did he see in me that was so wonderful? Did my fairy godmother come in the night to him and sprinkle a love potion over him? Maybe the Lord had done it.This had to be it! Whatever it was, I hoped it wouldn't wear off before our date.
I carefully selected my outfit for that night. I wore a white eyelet shirt and a light blue A-line skirt. My Mom ironed them perfectly for me. I'm sure she was happy that I had something to do! I hot-rolled my shoulder length hair and made sure my make-up hid all of my blemishes. I wanted to look as perfect as I could.
I heard a car door slam. He was here. "Okay, here goes nothin'." I whispered to myself as I looked in the mirror. "You've done all you can do."
Bumper was at the door. He looked so handsome standing there on our front porch.
"Hello." I said with a smile.
"Hi. You look beautiful." He said as he walked me to the car.
"Thank you. You look very nice yourself."
He introduced me to his grandparents. He had warned me ahead of time that his Grandfather, affectionately called "Paw", wore false teeth and often set them on the table during a meal. I really appreciated the warning!
Bumper drove his grandparents car, as he only had a truck, and I sat next to him. His poor grandparents had to sit in the back. His Paw immediately started teasing him about how long he had taken to get ready for tonight. He reached up from behind Bumper to muss his hair. "Don't mess his hair up! He worked so hard on it!" Gramma said to Paw. I silently chuckled and stared out the window to save Bumper from further embarrassment.
"Where do you want to eat? " He asked me.
"You mean I get a choice? It's your birthday! Besides, aren't you the chaperon that used to go on dates with me and get upset over indecision?" I said smiling.
"Ok. Let's go to the Lone Star Steak House in North Little Rock.". He said confidently.
"Fine!" I said with a sly grin.
Now, Bumper had only lived in Arkansas for almost a YEAR, so I thought he knew his way around well enough. I realized that was a mistaken idea on my part when we headed to Conway, instead of North Little Rock. I didn't know how to break the news to him. After all, he was the guy, he was driving, and this was our first date. I decided to just say it, as nicely as possible.
"Um. Bumper? Did you say you wanted to go to North Little Rock?" I asked him as sweetly as I could.
"Yeah. Why?"
"Weeeell.....we're headed to Conway."
"WHAT?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you..."
"Oh, man! Where should I have gone?"
"Well, you should've have just stayed on I-30 and not taken the bypass. See, we are now on I-40 heading west."
"I can't believe that." He pulled off the Interstate because his Gramma wanted to be sure the tank was filled!
As Bumper gassed up, we saw a very long-haired, tattooed biker guy pull up to the pump. His grandparents teased me about going out with that guy.
"OOO yeah, he's my type!" I said jokingly. When Bumper got back in the car, we told him about my "new date."
"No, you're not going with him. You're right where you belong." He said with a smile.
"Yes, I am." I thought to myself. I can't explain it very well, because feelings are hard to put into words. I did know that I was right where I belonged. I belonged with him. It was as though our hearts were knit. Of course, I never shared this with him. I don't know if he knows it now! (I guess he will when he reads this!)
We pulled away from there and headed back to North Little Rock. We found the Lone Star Steak House. As we entered we were greeted by piles and piles of peanut shells on the floor and blaring country music. He didn't say so, but I think this wasn't exactly the atmosphere he was looking for because he asked me if I wanted to go to the Olive Garden instead. "Fine with me!" I said. (In my heart I was rejoicing!!! The Hallelujah Chorus was ringing in my ears! I loved that place!)
We headed next door to the Olive Garden. We didn't have to wait for a table and our food came right away. I am happy to report that Paw did not put his teeth on the table. Even though we were both nervous, we managed to have make some conversation.
"So, why are you called "Bumper"?" I finally had the courage to ask.
"I, um, used to bump into things with my walker when I was a baby, so Dad called me 'his little Bumper'."
"Oh, I see." I said. "Would you mind if I called you 'Terry'? Every time I say 'Bumper' I'm reminded of all the tricks you've played on me. Plus, I think 'Terry" fits you better."
"No, I don't mind." He said.
As we finished up our meal, the servers at Olive Garden surrounded our table. Gramma had told them that Bumper's birthday was that day. They brought him some delicious Black Tie chocolate pie!! Bumper dove into it. Of course, I was dying for a piece of pie, but it was our first date! What would he think of me? First impressions are important!
Bumper finally leaned over with a piece of pie on his fork, "Wanna bite?" he asked me.
"No thank you," I said, looking down.
"Why not?"
"Well, what if I eat that, and wake up feeling sick in the morning?" I said.
"Or what if you eat it, and wake up feelin' like a million bucks?" He said confidently.
I smiled...and took the bite.

Yes, I liked him, and it was time that I just admitted it. I didn't know how or when, but I knew he was the one for me.

My Love Story ~ Part Eleven

For previous installments of my crazy love story, click here. Thank you!
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Things moved along much more quickly now that Bumper had approached my father. The visit didn't go as well as Bumper had planned, but the door of conversation with my Dad now had a crack in it. It was a start. We talked at church, at bus meeting and I went to Taco Bell after church sometimes to visit with him. It was now the end of March, and that means birthday time for me!! I was hoping to get together with Bumper, but I wasn't sure how. I didn't want him to think it was a date.
I discussed my upcoming birthday with my parents. I was turning nineteen, and I wanted to have some sort of party. Most of my girlfriends were married or gone, so that didn't leave anyone to invite to a party. Mom and Dad said I could invite a few friends, and Bumper could be one of them. Hmmm. Who else was there? The only people that were my friends at church were Bumper (but only recently), my Pastor's son, Ben and a guy I'd gone to school with since kindergarten, Bobby. Well, I had a few other friends that were single girls, but (clears throat) they were all Bumper's former girlfriends and wouldn't feel comfortable at a small party if he was there. There was one poor girl that approached me one day as I was leaving the auditorium to get on my bus. "Congratulations." She said, as she reached to shake my hand. "Um. Congratulations for what?" I asked her. "I heard you and Bumper like each other." "OH!" I said, tossing my head back in laughter. "You heard wrong! No, I don't like Bumper! He says he likes me, but I'm not fallin' for it." I said with a wink. Yes, it was strange how many gals went for him. You can see that this limited my guest list quite a bit. So, I did it. I invited all boys to my birthday party. I hadn't given much thought, however, to the fact that I had invited all boys until they had all arrived at my house! Yes, folks, I'm a little slow.
It was me, my Mom and Dad, Bumper, Ben and Bobby for the big event. I also worked to be sure the names of my guests were alliterated. I seated everyone alphabetically, too! (Just kidding everyone! I'm weird, but even I have my limits.)
When the party (which was just eating good food and visiting) began, I suddenly felt a little strange having all boys there. What if word got around that I was a flirt? What if word was already out that I was a flirt?? I mean, that girlfriend of mine had lied and quoted me as saying I could have any guy in the church...was this why?! Because these guys were my friends??? I was friends with everybody, it's just that the girls left me. I had friends of all shapes and sizes. I had a Downs Syndrome girl on my church bus route that clung to me at every service! Surely they didn't really think that I was a flirt?! As this was racing through my mind, I felt my pulse increasing. Sweat was forming on my back. Should I stand up and scream "WAIT! WE CAN'T HAVE THIS PARTY!" and make them all leave? Or, should I forget about it and not care what everyone else thought. These guys knew I wasn't a flirt. That's all that mattered. I decided not to care. Boy, that was a relief.
We all sat around the table. Mom made a delicious meal and I helped serve. Bumper came and sat across from me. Ben sat to my left and Bobby was beside Bumper. Bobby and Ben knew my parents very well. They were just extensions of our family. But Bumper was an "outsider." He sat there, squinting. He didn't say anything unless someone asked him a question. In the course of conversation, we found out that he had been repairing the washer in the boys dorm when some water - containing bleach - had squirted into his eye. He went to the ER and they had given him eye drops, but the pain was still severe. He could barely keep his eyes open. "Great." I thought, "this is just what I need!" This party was sort of a test run for Bumper. This was his big chance to impress my parents. It was his opportunity to show them his wit, his intellect, his ability to communicate. So far, he was failing miserably. I looked over at his slumped form, at how he had to rub his eyes constantly and how he squinted at everyone that was talking to him. I felt sorry for him. I was also a little disappointed that his "big chance" was overshadowed by this accident.
My Mom made a wonderful dessert cake for my birthday. It was a regular sheet cake with a layer of vanilla pudding, a layer of cherry pie filling on top of the pudding and a layer of cool whip over that. There is only one word for it: DIVINE. Mom served the cake. As she placed a piece in front of Bumper, he said, while looking down because of his eyes, "I hate cake." He said it monotone. No inflection in the voice. No "no thank you", just "I hate cake." WHAT? Had his eye injury now bled into his brain?? How could he say something so rude to a hostess? My birthday was turning into a nightmare. My Mother felt terrible (she didn't tell me, but I know my Mom). She quickly removed the cake and apologized to him!!! I glared at him from across the table. Unfortunately, he couldn't see me glaring because he was temporarily blind.
At this point, the evening could not get over with fast enough. We all finished dessert and I bid my guests good night. I thanked my parents for the party. As I headed to bed, all I could think was "Hyles-Anderson College...you are calling my name!!!" It was nice to have a guy interested in me, but I could see that it would take a miracle for this relationship to work. I had to acknowledge that there was absolutely no way - humanly speaking - that this was gonna happen.
The only thing I did not consider, however, was that I know Someone who is in the miracle working business.

My Love Story ~ Part Ten

The read previous entries in my personal epoch of love, click here.
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It was clear to me that my feelings for Bumper were changing. It seemed that Bumper was changing! Or was I? Someone was changing, that was certain. I began sitting with him in church, and talking with him after church. I even ventured out to Taco Bell with a him and some other friends after Sunday night services a few times. My Pastor enjoyed teasing me about marrying Bumper. Others commented that we "looked good together". My pastor's wife, who is a very quiet lady, even said to me once "Valerie, it's so good to see you with a guy who does some of the talking." I guess she was right! Mike never said anything, he let me talk, plan, lead...you get the point. To be honest, I was enjoying the attention. I had lived my entire life of almost nineteen years, and never really had a guy interested in me enough to approach me. I had never been on a date - save for a few Valentine Banquets or group activities- that I hadn't organized. This was such a nice change.
One Saturday, Bumper invited me to go hear him preach at a local nursing home on the following Sunday afternoon. I agreed, but I had serious doubts. What if this is another one of his jokes? What if I get there, and they tell me there's no service conducted by Victory Baptist Church that day, and then I see Bumper and his cohorts hiding out, laughing at me. Well, I wouldn't fall for that! No sirree! I did a little checking. First, I called our church secretary. She said she was pretty sure there was a scheduled nursing home service for that day. I then called our Dean of Men to see if Bumper was supposed to preach that day. He confirmed that Bumper was, in fact, preaching that Sunday. I decided I'd go. I almost called the nursing home to triple check, but I didn't. I went to the service and I actually had a good time. I enjoyed visiting with the elderly folks and hearing Bumper preach. He did very well. I was relieved that is was no joke!
Bumper asked me out on a date, again. I was still a little scared to date him. I told him I'd think about it.
"Even if I say yes, you'll have to check with my Dad." I told him.
"That's okay, I'm not afraid." He said with a smile.
That really impressed me. Most guys were a little intimidated by my Dad. He was 6 feet, 2.5 inches tall (he always got that half inch in there when he told someone his height!) and weighed over 200 lbs. Whenever he got a serious expression, well, he really looked frightening! I'd wait and see if Bumper was really gonna ask my Dad for permission or not.
One Wednesday evening in mid-March, Bumper told me after church that he was planning on talking to my Dad that night. I was very impressed. I couldn't believe that he was really doing this. I was suddenly very nervous about what my Dad would say. I had not mentioned dating or Bumper - or the idea of dating Bumper - to my parents. I became worried that maybe I was growing more fond of Bumper, but my parents weren't!
I stood in the lobby with Bumper. He had walked away briefly, so I stood there waiting on him. I saw my Dad come out of the auditorium and shake Bro. Graham's hand. As he shook his hand, Dad said to him "Bro. Graham, I'd like to talk to you about my daughter and Bumper Basham." He had that frightening look on his face! My heart started pounding. What in the world was Dad upset about? I hadn't told them anything negative about anything. Had someone else? What was wrong?
Now, this will tell you how afraid my Dad could make me. I went up to Bro. Graham, because I was too scared of my Dad, after Dad left. I asked him what my Dad was talking about. "I don't know; go ask him." Bro. Graham snapped. Oh no! Now they both looked unhappy! I guess the date with Bumper would never happen after all.
I headed out the back door of our church, to where my parents were parked. I wanted to find out what was making Dad so upset. As I headed out the door, however, I saw Bumper and Dad's silhouettes. Bumper had already caught up to him, and they were talking. It was getting dark, so I couldn't make out their faces to see if they were angry or yelling. I just stood there, wringing my hands and wearing an anxious expression. What in the world was going on out there? Was this the end of the most exciting relationship a girl could ever have? Or was there still hope? I had to admit to myself, that Bumper was definitely someone I was interested in. He had courage - look! He's talking to my angry Father! He had a great sense of humor. He was always sharing some funny story, or relating things to me in a way that made me smile. He had a unique personality. I thought he was good looking, but not in a "showy" way; he had very rugged good looks. He enjoyed manly pursuits - hunting, fishing and gunsmithing. He knew about car engines, and so did my Dad. I liked it when a man could do "man" things well! ;) He told me how he had tried to get into the Navy, but having kidney surgery kept him out. I'd always wanted to marry a Navy man, if I married someone in the military! (I didn't dare tell him this, though.) He was highly imperfect, and so was I. We seemed to have lots in common.
I nearly pressed my nose against the glass of our church lobby to see what was going on. Soon, Bro. Graham joined me by the window and asked me what was going on.
"I have no idea, Bro. Graham. All I know is that Dad is mad, and Bumper's out there trying to get permission to take me out on a date! This is horrible!"
"Aww, I'm sure it'll turn out okay." Bro. Graham tried to assure me.
I waited to see what Bumper had to say. I was too afraid to head home and talk to Dad about it.
Finally, Dad and Bumper went their separate ways. They hadn't come to blows! What a relief! Bumper came inside.
"What in the world happened?" I asked him.
"Well, I went up to him and asked him if I could please ask him permission to date you. He said he couldn't really talk about it right now because he was upset over another situation."
Bumper proceeded to tell me that Dad had gotten some information from my ex-boyfriend (before he was an "ex") about a situation concerning one of our church leaders. Dad had gotten only half the story. Fortunately, Bumper knew the other half and was able to set Dad straight on the matter.
"Was he mad at you for telling him that?" I asked nervously.
"I don't think so. He seemed a little irritated about it all in general, but he wasn't mad."
I held Bumper in very high esteem that night. While Dad hadn't given his permission for him to date me, I still felt happy. Bumper had earned some respect that night, from my whole family.
When I got home that night, I talked to Dad about his talk with Bumper.
"Dad! I thought you and Bumper were going to get into a fist fight tonight! You had me worried!" I told him.
"Me, too, Ron!" My Mom chimed in.
"Nah, I wasn't going to hit him! My goodness! Thanks for your faith in me, girls! I told Bumper about that situation, and he told me I had it wrong. He told me what really happened." Dad explained.
"You know, " Dad continued, "My opinion of him shot up a hundred points when I saw he was man enough to stand up to me."

At that moment, I knew whose prayers God was answering. He was answering his... and mine.

To be continued...

My Love Story ~ Part Nine

To read the prior gory details of my dramatic romance, click here.
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I knew who had sent the rose. The car salesmen that I worked with were giving me a hard time. I grinned and shrugged. "It's unsigned." I told them when they asked me who my new guy was. (A girl has to keep some things to herself. Discretion is a lost art.) "OH! A secret admirer!" They all chimed in. These men reminded me of the guys I went to school with...in sixth grade! I laughed it off.
That night, I told my parents about my surprise rose.
"The card was unsigned, but I know Bumper sent it." I told them.
"No, I bet it was Mike." My Mom said. I think I had failed to tell her about Bumper telling me - through his friend Terry - that he liked me. (See? There are those sixth grade tendencies again!) I really didn't think much of it. I had seen how quickly Bumper liked girls, and then all of a sudden, didn't like them anymore. I couldn't handle that kind of heartbreak right now, and maybe not ever. I filled Mom and Dad in at the table that night. Dad was a little miffed that Bumper would send me a rose without talking to him first.
"No, Mom, I know it's not from Mike."
"How do you know? It wasn't signed?"
"I just know."
"Well, if Bumper sent it, don't acknowledge it. Just ignore him." She told me. I knew what she meant. She didn't want me fluttering over to Bumper all starry-eyed over one rose. He needed to prove himself to me, and to them. After all, he had been Mike's friend. How did we know he would be any different from Mike.

That night was our Wednesday night service. I got to church before Bumper. He came into our auditorium as I was walking out. I was waiting on my pastor's wife to arrive so we could practice the solo that I was singing that evening. As I passed by Bumper, he flashed me the biggest, toothiest grin I had ever seen. I did as Mom told me, I just kept walking, without a word.
When I went up to the piano to practice, Bumper was in his usual seat, with about three girls around him. I was, once again, thoroughly disgusted. Were they all blinded to how they looked, chasing after a guy like that? "Wait a minute." I thought to myself. "Is that how I looked, when I was dating Mike?" Eww. It was too horrible to imagine. I would never do that again!
After church, he approached me.
"Did you get something from me today, Valerie?" He asked me, smiling. He did have such a nice smile.
"Yes. I got something." I told him, keeping a straight face.
"Well? Did you like it?"
"Yes...it was nice. Thank you."
I headed out the door before he hounded me anymore about it.

He tried talking to me anytime he had the opportunity. He asked to sit by me. I said "No." He asked me out. I told him that he'd have to ask my Dad about that first. I was pretty confident that Dad would tell him "NO WAY!"
Bumper kept trying to talk to me.
"Valerie, I really like you. I wish you'd give me a chance." He would say.
"Why? What are your intentions?" I'd ask as haughtily as I could.
"My intentions? My intention is to marry you. I want to make you my wife. I want to have children someday. Three boys. The first one will be Terry Lee Basham, III- whom we'll call 'Buck'; the second will be James Owen and the third will be Gilbert Owen and we'll call him 'Gib'."
I stood there, listening, mouth agape. For one thing, I'd never known a guy to have so much to say. For another thing, I couldn't believe what he was saying! This was more than I bargained for. Was he serious? What dream world did he live in anyway? I'd never marry him, much less raise a passel of boys with him! The nerve! This was the guy who called me a "universal traveler" and laughed me to scorn at every turn! MARRY HIM?? Fuhgettaboutit! I was headed to college!
"Furthermore," He went on. What? There's more? "I want to take care of you. I want to buy the food you eat, the clothes you wear, everything." He actually looked sincere. "VALERIE! How could you think anything nice about this guy?" I told myself.
"That's nice." I said. "But, I don't think so. Not now, and not ever!!!" I turned to leave.

Every time our paths crossed - at college, at church, at bus meeting, it was more of the same! Trying to talk to me, trying to apologize for being a jerk, telling me how I was the one for him. He seemed oblivious to my lack of interest, and even my disgust for him.
Bro. Graham started to tease me about it all. "I think he's probably the one for you, Valerie. You better not say "never", cause it could happen." He would say with a grin.
Finally, he wore me down enough that I agreed to let him sit with me in church. I started being polite to him, and hey, that was a big step for me! We had regular conversations about what I would do at college, about my family, my perceptions of him during our camp years, and so forth. We actually became friends, but no more! I wasn't dating him, I was just being nice.
It was March now. I couldn't believe how in just a few short months we had gone from mortal enemies, to friends. Later, I found out why. One day, I stumbled upon Bumpers' prayer list in the church auditorium. You couldn't mistake his handwriting! I found out that Bumper and his friend, Terry, got up early each day and went to our church auditorium. There they both prayed. I'm not sure what Terry prayed about, but Bumper was praying for me, and for my Dad, to like him. The list had Valerie Courtney written at the top, and Ron Courtney beneath that, and then many other names. Perhaps my change in feelings were the work of the Lord.

Was the Lord answering his prayers, or mine?

To be continued...