Missing the Missus

My wife is flying home this afternoon from Phoenix, and boy will I be glad to see her. She’s been away for a week’s vacation visiting relatives; it seems like a year.

When I go on reporting trips by myself I don’t have such feelings. I fly to a new location, interview interesting people, stay in an unknown place. But it’s a different story when the tables are turned. I go home to an empty-nest house; our dog isn’t even alive anymore.

Thankfully, my wife, who is an excellent cook, made enough scrumptious meals to keep me alive, because I’m inept in the kitchen. But I miss her more than at feeding times. And I miss her more than physically, although there is that.

I long for my wife’s presence. After 33 years of sharing life together, there is a tendency to take each other for granted — until that routine is interrupted. When I get home from work she isn’t there to discuss the day’s joys, traumas and triumphs. This past week has dragged on interminably, and I’ve experienced a profound loneliness. It’s not good for man to be alone (Genesis 2:18).

Yet, I’m glad Patty could get away in the interim, between losing her job and starting her new assignment next week: daycare for the granddaughters.

Sorting Out

I spent much of last week at work cleaning out the voluminous files I keep on all sorts of subjects and people I have reported on or interviewed. The newspaper, magazine and Internet clippings are stored for future reference in case I broach the topics or sources again.

In the past couple of years I’ve become less of an article saver, in large part because I just don’t have the room. In downsizing to a much smaller office last year, I had to relinquish one of my two full-size, five-drawer filing cabinets. I began clipping in earnest in 1993, my first year as news editor for Christianity Today.

During the past 18 years I’ve accumulated a lot of reading material to comb through. I managed to toss several wastebaskets full last week. Some of the people I collected articles on in the 1990s, such as Gary Bauer or Ralph Reed, just aren’t relevant in 2011. Others I’ve interviewed such as Jerry Falwell or abortionist killer Paul Hill have died.

Likewise, some of the hot topics of not that long ago — Ten Commandments displays and Pledge of Allegiance lawsuits, for instance — no longer are on the front burner. Aging high-profile figures of yesteryear such as Pat Robertson and James Dobson are no longer in the limelight. Others, among them John Ashcroft, Ralph Reed, Phil Vischer, Rodney Howard-Browne, Roy Moore and Randall Terry, have faded from the scene due to various circumstances.

Clearly, anyone’s time in the spotlight is only momentary. The best we can hope for is to make our mark in the few years that we have influence.

Thank God for Air Conditioning

My wife and I came home from work last Monday and found the temperature inside the house to be 86 degrees. Although the thermostat was set at 80, only lukewarm air blew out the vents.

I called an air conditioning company, which had made nearly $300 worth of repairs to the unit four months ago — when the heater blew out cold air — to get an estimate. It would be $100 to come out after hours, or $60 during a regular business day. Trying to be good stewards, we opted to wait, even though no appointments were available until Wednesday afternoon.

So we toughed it out, aiming two fans on our bed and turning the overhead fan on as well. I decided not to open up the windows. While the temperature dipped to a balmy 80 overnight, the humidity topped 90 percent. We made it through the night.

Craving comfort seems a bit selfish when much of the world suffers through hot summers with no means of cooling off. Troops in Afghanistan certainly aren’t obsessed with 72-degree indoor air. Humanity has managed to survive for centuries without this means of temperature soothing.

I asked my 93-year-old mom how she lived without air conditioning growing up in hot and humid Springfield, Mo. Lots of swimming, going to air-conditioned movie theaters and taking turns with her siblings sitting in front of an electric fan about the size of a fist.

My wife and I didn’t have to wait another night for the air conditioner to be repaired. I mentioned to building contractor Melvin Hopke, who is constructing an enclosed back porch on our house, that our air conditioning had broken. He had an air conditioning installer that he works with look at it and he fixed it quickly. What a blessing that turned out to be when the temperature that day reached 100 degrees!

The Benefits of Sacrifice

Twelve months after our church home group studied the book Radical by David Platt, I’ve made it through a year feeling as though I accomplished something.

I didn’t take up some of the more stringent challenges, such as going on a mission trip to Africa. My wife and I seriously thought about it, but we couldn’t work it out with our schedule.

I managed a less sacrificial task: forgoing the purchase of any clothes for myself for a year. That may not seem like a big deal, but until making the pledge I often indulged in purchasing a new shirt or pair of pants that caught my eye. As a result, I have an overstocked wardrobe.

So, when too many stains gathered on some shirts, I didn’t run out and buy new ones. The Radical experiment really helped me change my attire lifestyle. I realize I had — and still have — too many garments. Money for new clothes can be channeled to more worthwhile causes. I don’t mind wearing socks and underwear with holes in them.

It’s a message that Americans need to constantly hear. Working in a Christian environment doesn’t make us immune. In fact, materialism competition may be more acute in the evangelical world than elsewhere. I’m surrounded by employees in a company who crave the latest designer purse or shoes, who have an expensive luxury car or who live in a gated community. Apparently, as my wife loses her job tomorrow because of economic downsizing, self-sacrificial ministry is no longer in fashion. Shallow consumption and enriching oneself is the order of the day.

A Blessed City

I spent a marvelous three days in Tacoma, Wash., the weekend before last on a business trip. What a wondrous city to provide a respite from the summer heat and humidity of the Midwest. In mid July the daily high temperature is 72 degrees. I spent an entire afternoon reading books along the Puget Sound shoreline, unperturbed by flies or mosquitoes. The air smelled so fresh, devoid of the haze that enveloped the Chicago I viewed on my return flight. Majestic snow-covered Mount Rainier loomed in the background.

The climate is temperate year-round, rarely venturing into the 80s in the summer or failing to reach the 50s in winter. Residents don’t have to contend with snow. Best of all there are a bevy of seafood restaurants along the water selling my favorite fish, halibut and cod, fresh and at reasonable prices.

Lest I start packing my bags to move to Washington, however, the shuttle bus driver from the rental car outlet to the airport warned me that it’s cloudy much of the year. And he said he pays $720 a month to rent a one-bedroom apartment, not that much less than my monthly mortgage for a four-bedroom home in southwest Missouri.

Unlike southwest Missouri, I saw few people smoking and few obese people in northwest Washington. Tacoma seems to have a good share of residents who are well off. I saw hundreds of spiffy people walking, jogging and biking along the shoreline. But I didn’t see many families. Dogs outnumbered babies and young children by a wide margin.

The Wonder of Summer

Summer isn’t my favorite season. I don’t care for 100-degree days with high humidity, ticks embedding themselves in my skin or expensive air-conditioning bills.

But summer is the best season for eating. We’re blessed to have fresh apricots, peaches, Bing cherries, raspberries, honeydew, green beans and other produce available for consumption at fairly reasonable prices this time of year from local grocery stores.

In our own yard we’re benefiting from tomatoes, blueberries and basil that my wife planted. This spring, she also planted a fig tree and sweet potato patch that will yield in the future.

Insects destroyed any harvest from our plum and peach trees. Nevertheless, it’s a great time of year to be eating healthy.

So Long to the Best Dog

My wife and I made the difficult journey yesterday to have our dog put down. Patty has shed more tears in the past few days than she has in a long time. I cried before we took him in as well.

Buddy never really recovered from a vicious attack by a neighbor dog on Memorial Day weekend. The visible wounds healed fairly well, but we suspect he suffered internal injuries. His mobility had been greatly inhibited since then, and his voracious appetite had abated. In the past week he ate virtually nothing and he suddenly lost all bladder control.

We have many fond memories of Buddy: his tricks of balancing bonies on his nose before devouring them at Patty’s command; offering protection by sleeping outside the bedroom door of visiting vulnerable babies and elderly people; going on morning walks with me the past dozen years.

Buddy has been an enduring part of the family. He’s lived in our current home longer than any of our sons, who have all moved out. He is sorely and sadly missed.