A Mother’s Journal by Diane Krentel Hodge

Home is a lot of things….but mainly it is the place where life makes up its mind. Swindoll

Raising our three boys was chock-full of hugs and kisses, love, skinned knees, black eyes, quibbles, laughs, fears and a “Hodge-Podge” of pandemonium! I loved every moment of those days but I also felt the great responsibility to do it all “right”…..how I dreamt it should be done. Some days I was just plain worn out trying. Being one who would always analysis my christian progress, along the way, I found myself becoming overwhelmed, feeling like the job was too great.  So, to the Lord I would have to run to and confess my inadequacies to do the job alone.  He would gently agree with me and remind me, “ Yes, it is too big for you, alone.  Lean on me, I will help you!”

The Lord will perfect that which concerns me….forsake not the works of your own hands  Psalm 138:8

Being a parent and navigating through the times of …. nurturing babies, chasing toddlers, and  watching three individuals grow and exert themselves, I learned many valuable lessons that added to my patience and  perseverance.  I watched as my boys tried to move away from total dependency.  Yet, I still saw that they needed us, more than ever.  I questioned in my journal “Can I let them go? Not embarrass them when they think for themselves.  Let them experience some decisions on on their own.” Can I let them develop skills by maybe having failures.  Can I give them up to let them play a little more freely?  further away?  TRUST was at the bottom of most of those questions. And the “Matthew-factor” played a part in my nervousness and ability to trust more.  As a result, I was a “mother hen” clucking over each situation the boys experienced …over-careful…over-doing…holding on tight at times…..I was often called the “worry-wort”, I humbly admit. But God helped me every step of the way in the auspices  of our home.

Here are a few journal entries written down during this time of being a Mom of three wonderful wiggly boys.  Some will make you smile, some you can probably relate to and some are reminders to me today as a parent of grown children.

……………. some how I found time to write things down back then…wonder how I did that?

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Steve at 2…..beginning to express himself better word-wise . Oh, such an active boy-exhausting me with his climbing  and ability to be a “little dickens” in all situations Eg. when eating food is all over him and everywhere else.  When shopping, Steve somehow wiggles out of the stroller. And in the middle of the night Steve makes “tiger-screams” to get our attention. He loves to pull a chair all over the house to climb into and on things precariously.  Besides these cute things, he is most of all, a real love.  Loves the hugs and kisses!  Is a Pop-Pop fan through and through!

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Ben (4), when we were praying at night, indicated that he wanted to ask Jesus to come in his heart.  He was concerned that the Devil could get in if he didn’t do it right away. (This was about the time Star Wars was such a rage!) Then he asked, “ Is Jesus kind of like a “force-field” in your heart?”  This concept obviously made him feel safe. What a great symbolic picture!  He was always thinking!

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I have to learn over and over again not to expect spiritual maturity from babes. Here is a  perfect example.  One night Pastor came over to instruct Brian on baptism and right in the middle of this long discourse,  Brian interrupted politely, and said “Pastor, I hate to change the subject, but I wonder if you would tell me something I have wondered about for a long time now.”

 I was elated as I watched Brian and he seemed so sincere!  Brian continued, “ Did the stone kill Goliath or did he die when David cut off his head?” Cringe. But I couldn’t help but smile inside as I’ve wondered that myself.

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One time when out with a friend for lunch, Brian spoke up.  He asked my friend, “Kathy do you know Jesus and is He in your heart?”  She answered, “Yes!” and he responded, “ That’s good because He is a special guy.  

Another time: When I asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up.  Brian answered thoughtfully ,”Just myself, Mom.”  Priceless!

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My new trial is a lack of quiet-time.  There is an interruption very 5 minutes it seems and I don’t want to resent those interruptions.  But this week I have been so short with the children. Well, I can remember the other day, after devotions, I knelt down for a quick prayer and the boys saw me there on my knees and jumped on my back thinking I was going to be their “pony-boy!” My prayer is to have a servant’s heart in times like these and learn to pray “on the go.”

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Today, Stevie put up a “hissy fit” when I asked him to “come-in.  It was such a big one that I thought the behavior deserved a spanking when Daddy came home.  Up  in his room, Steve ,all on his own, wrote sentences, a thank you letter, drew me a picture, and  even washed his own mouth out with soap!  And when Dad appeared, he announced he was ready for him,  He was sitting on the bed waiting.  We found out later he had put on 3 pairs of pants under his heavy sleeper to better prepare for his spanking.  What a Dickens! 

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Brian’s room looks like a tornado hit….after he’s been cleaning for an hour too……Steve pushed Benji down the stairs……Ben just threw up all over the rug…..I just lost a check….and after much “trying otherwise,” I loose my cool totally.  Somedays, I  reason I have  every logical or worldly right to throw a real “fit” myself in the middle of everything.

But I’m finding the heart of EVERY problem, lies the HEART.  My heart has tendencies to be reminded over and over again that I need to be ingrafted into GOD in order for the fruits of the Spirit  to be seen, in spite of life’s circumstances, in the crucible of the home. How shall I lead my children unless I have the fruits I yell at them to have.  I need to chisel away at my heart and ask the Lord to help me again so I can walk worthy of Him and bring into captivity every thought to obedience in Christ.  Righteous words come from a righteous heart ( one surrendered to Him, cleansed by Him, and filled with thoughts He strives to place there.)  

Guard your heart above all else for it determines the course of your life. Prov. 4:23

Alway remember that my children reflect perfectly all my faults. 

I have to be aware that my life either “sheds light or casts a shadow!” (unknown)

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Beni (5) our constant chatterbox was asking again about how he was born. 

”Mom, I know where I came out!”…..

”You do? I said.

”Yes, from a little secret door!” he exclaimed “But how did I get out of the little secret door?”.

 I  just listened.

 “I know,” he continued.  “Jesus was in your heart and He pushed me out.”

Then he said…”You weren’t too happy when you saw me !”

 “No?” I said “Why?”  

“Well, Mommy in the picture you looked kind of bad!”  

We had a nice follow up talk. So creative!

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Brian returned from camp all in one piece ( but with a black eye, he said came from swimming into a inner tube nozzle)!  Had a wonderful time and I’m so glad ! It seemed he survived even when I wasn’t there to nag.  

My prayer for him all week was that he might desire to begin his walk alone with God in the way of having his own devotions.  Last night while we were in the kitchen, he said to me “ I can’t believe it Mom,  but some kids are really psyched out about reading the Bible!”  He went on to say that made a real impression on him and that he knows he should Oh, I pray for that first step and thank our Father for the desire.

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The other night around the table we were discussing a family who was broken hearted over a son who has rejected Christ.  All the other children in the family had found Him but the boy was involved in trouble all the time.  

Well, Stevie was caught up in the whole story , and spurted out “I know what I’d do….I’d take him right up to his room and give him a spanking until he asked Jesus into his heart” 

We all broke up with laughter!

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Benji has been especially a joy to us recently.  His love for the Lord is remarkable.  There was a special  drawing he made on Easter Sunday.  It read quite simply, 

                                   “ TO JESUS I LOVE YOU—BENJI”  

He was very insistent that day that he wanted this note to to go to Jesus.  I suggested we put it in the offering plate.  

He said “No, when I die, tape it here on my chest and Jesus will see it when I go up there.” 

Oh what simple, yet profound faith! 

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For the last few days the house has been full of endless chatter, little foot steps running around, adults laughing and kid’s squabbling.  We’ve had company from our old church, back to back. The visits were such a rewarding times of fellowship.  It just amazes me how, in the body of Christ, we can live so closely with one another  and feel comfortable even when we haven’t seen each other for years.  Of course there were times during the visiting, when I wanted to crawl under the tablecloth…..like when Stevie came out  in the middle of dinner one night, with just one simple word….the word “D…..” 

We asked with red faces,  “What did you say?” and he assuredly answered again, “D….!” even louder.

 We said “Do you know that is a bad word?”  He innocently said he didn’t even know what “D” meant.  

Oh well, those friends got an earful. We were humbled. What the bus ride and school teaches your child!  Our Dennis the Menace!

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Benji was pestering me relentlessly,  when I had a neighbor over for coffee. 

 I turned to him in jest and said, “Benji, I’m going to change my name to George, so I don’t hear….Mommy….Mommy …….heh, Mommy. “

He said nothing and just grinned.  Well, my friend and I  went on chatting together for sometime before Benji got up to get his coat to go outside.  As he walked away down the hall, he peeked around the corner, and said “Oh, Bye George, I’ll be outside!”  Laughter!

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Each day I gather the boys in my arms before they leave for school.  I pretty much pray the same prayer each day; that they be “little Daniels” in school and that they would grow to love the Lord with all their heart and all their might.  I love them so deeply AND I remind myself  that God is not only just concerned for them, just like I am , but He loves my “little men” even MORE than I do!  I just need to open up my firm grip on them; Like in the prayer of relinquishment. When I am able to let go, parenting becomes more of God’s business and not fully mine anymore.  My load becomes so much lighter, when I remind myself of this important truth.

(Deuteronomy 6) Listen……..you must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your strength.  And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today.  Repeat them again and again to your children.  Talk about them when you are at home and when you are on the road, when you are going to bed and when you are getting up.  Amen

A Grand Map by Diane Krentel Hodge

Chapter Four:  A Grand Map by Diane Krentel Hodge

For I know the plans that I have for you declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.  Jeremiah 29:11

I heard someone say once how God has a Master Plan for each one of us, all sketched out in a “Map-of-sorts” in Heaven.  On this Map, we don’t  know all the starts, stops, and finishes or the reasons for “pauses” along the way, as we can’t see the Map. The Master Creator designed this Map to be balanced and productive for His glory.  A divine Grand Master Plan, for our journey here on earth; a Map for each individual.  Our role is to lean on the Everlasting Arms for the perfect heavenly outcome for each of life’s happenings.  Of course, that “map-concept” is not actually found, word for word, in the Bible, but the concept nonetheless is true. I can testify to it…..especially during this next phase of my life. Here is a rendering of how His hand gently guided us along the way during this time.

After Matthew’s “home-going”, Ron and I prepared for his enlistment into the Armed Forces, as his six months deferment flew by.  One snowy morning, his father took him to the Army Induction Center,  and I watched him walk away with all that he needed, in one small satchel. Twenty-some years old, married for over five years and entering a whole new world that was challenging, physically and mentally. He often says that one night he was sleeping in his bed with his wife of five years and the next night, he was sleeping in a barracks with 18 and 19 year old gang members and right outside of the only broken-down latrine. ( Interestingly enough, Ron’s group was the last division to live in these “sumptuous digs” before the building was condemned as “unlivable”.) 

Eight weeks later, 25 pounds thinner, Ron finished his basic training and signed up for Officer’s Candidate School in Columbus, Georgia.  This time I would be able to live nearby off base and perhaps see him on weekends; that was if he wasn’t put “on duty” for  some small infraction.  The time flew by. 

Soon I was pinning a gold bar on his uniform and Ron was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant. I was so very proud of him.  As it turned out, Ron graduated thirteenth in his class and because of his background in Physics and success in OCS, they wanted him to work with an ordinance team on developing a new laser weapon system instead of going on a tour in Vietnam.  As you can imagine,  I was so thankful to the Lord for Ron’s new assignment, to say the least.  I  still was very tender from loosing Matthew and wanted to hold on tight to my husband.  No Vietnam. Thank you, Lord!

So off we went to our first place of duty, Huntsville, Alabama.  Now to be very truthful, I must say I cried when I heard we were going there!!!  What’s in Huntsville?  It’s so far from home and so very hot and humid, I thought!  But being thankful it wasn’t Vietnam, we packed up reluctantly  and made the trip down south to this little town. Foolishly, I didn’t remember that “grand plan of things” quite yet subconsciously. Still believing I knew best, I thought. 

Anyway, in the Army, when you are an officer, you are given houses on base with all the furniture and household items you needed.  This was all-amazing to me and we settled in quickly in a duplex on base. We had everything we really needed.  Each other,  a sofa and appropriate furniture for a three room duplex. Everything except one small thing,…..an air conditioner! How can one live in 100% humidity?  Somehow we did it,  as we lived on under $200 dollars a week…….not enough for an air conditioner… ….but happy, as we were together again.

Soon after getting settled, we tried going to a little church right outside of the post called Hillsboro Baptist Church.  Now, when you live down South and you come from the North, you might get some” joshing” from deep down Southerns.  Members of this fellowship who enjoyed teasing us,  and laughing at our northern accents, soon became our fast friends. Southern hospitality was especially warm there and they wouldn’t allow you to be “Sunday-only-church goers”.  We were invited to everything and that’s just what we needed.  Soon, the church approached us to be Youth Leaders to the teenagers.  We were in our mid twenties and had no attachments, so we said yes!  Life became busy with church retreats, high school bible studies, Sunday School lessons and many other church functions.

At the same time, I found a new OB GYN doctor in town as we still wanted children.  The new doctor I found was younger than my doctor in New York and he was a fertility specialist to boot.  He didn’t just send me home and say “keep trying there is nothing wrong with you”.  He also put me on many fertility meds and had me go through many painful medical tests to find a problem. Well, if anyone has walked  down this path with me, you would know some of the fertility drugs would produce orange size cysts on your ovaries that are very painful. Many times I wanted to quit and give up but once again, the Lord gently prodded me to pick up Catherine Marshall’s book , Beyond Ourselves and read and reread the chapter called the “Prayer of Helplessness.”  Listen to these precious words. You can apply it to anything you might care much about and for those circumstances that are seemingly helpless in your life. 

Prayer of Helplessness (in part)

by Catherine Marshall

Helplessness is a terrifying thing to most of us. We resist it, deny it and when we are finally face-to-face with it, a few of us are unable to endure it!

Sometimes life find as powerless before the facts that cannot be changed. Then we can only stand still at the bottom of the pit and claim for our particular trouble that the best of all promises, that God will make even this to "work together for good to them that love God. "

God's hemming- in-process is one of the most loving and effective devices for teaching us that He is gloriously adequate for our problems "Creative power begins at the point of helplessness"

Self-pity, giving up, quitting is a kind of self indulgence that shuts God out, blocks His power, cuts the nerve of creativity. "Human helplessness is the crucible out of which victory could rise"

II Corinthians 12:9 My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.

No sinner is hopeless. No situation is irretrievable. Not case past redeeming.

Those words were like a hospice to me. Then, it wasn’t too long when the doctor explained why pregnancy would be so very difficult for us.  The diagnosis was Poly-cystic ovaries.  But that piece of news didn’t seem to rattle my southern doctor. He said knew of one medical procedure that worked 80% of the time to help you conceive.  It would be an operation called a Wedge Resection.  Well, of course, we scheduled this major surgery, as soon as we could.

Now all the parts of “God’s Grand Plan” start to come together. 

As I was recuperating in the hospital, the pastor of our church, Pastor Tom,  a joyful young man with a winning smile,  found out that I had surgery and dropped in for a hospital visit.  He expressed his concern for my health and I assured him the reason I was there was only a “woman-plumbing” problem. I tried to keep the  moment light.  He didn’t laugh right away but a concerned look filled his face.  I opened up and shared with him about my condition and that we had tried almost everything out there to become a Mom and Dad and we weren’t getting any younger!  I even told him that we had thought about adoption but the waiting list was 5 years in New York and that would push us past the age limit in that state. Then he paused and said something I will never, ever forget.  

He smiled and said, “ Why, Diane, why didn’t you and Ron tell about your problem? Don’t you know the Southern Baptist church has a home for unwed Southern Baptist mothers in New Orleans?  Why, I could write you a letter of recommendation today and send it right off to them. I know of their ministry well.  I love you guys so much.  I’d be happy to do this for you! ” 

I can’t begin to tell you how my heart flew and fluttered within.  A new bud of hope blossomed right then and there in my heart of hearts.  Oh God, is this why Ron was drafted and sent to Huntsville, Ala.? Is this why we were drawn to this church?

Then came the home studies, interviews, applications and letters of recommendation, as  this christian adoption organization wanted to match up biological families to adoptive parents as closely as possible.  

And within a short 10  months we got the phone call not to go away on a trip or anywhere too far without letting them know first! Wide-eyed with wonder, we speculated if the call meant it  wouldn’t be too many more months of waiting.  Guesses…only guesses at that point! Then two days later, the phone rang again and we held on to the receiver like it was gold  when we heard it was the agency calling again. Good news, it seems there was a baby boy about 8 weeks old that they felt was just a perfect match for us!  We listened in stunned silence, as they explained everything about him…..his raspy coo….healthy physic and nature….his big winning smile ………and we could hardly wait to see for ourselves. We were going to have a baby boy!

Soon we gathered our baby gear in the car, to include “Eeyore”,  the blue donkey squeeze-toy, and headed due south for a long trip  to LA.  Each mile we traveled, the awesomeness of it began to sink in…..a sense of pure happiness settled in.  Unbelief was part of these feelings too, as we just couldn’t believe we were going to be parents!   

I remember the trip as taking forever, but we managed to find the Southern Baptist home . If heart-rate tells you anything, we were maxed out with excitement and expectation. After we were greeted, we were ushered into a small room to sign some papers. Soon after this, they announced that they would go get our little baby, just like that. No long wait.  And  we sat there a few minutes in utter silence, listening for any sound that would bring him closer. And then we heard the  happy raspy “coo” coming down the hallway. We edged forward in our chairs.   The staff person entered the room with this very wonderful bundle of boy.  The baby  took one look at us and a smile spread from ear to ear.  Suddenly we began to “coo” and make over him, as they handed him right to me.  I melted and smiled as he proceeded to throw up all over the front of my dress.  Even that was a joyous welcome for me as his new mother. (Years later, Brian loved that part of the story as he loves playing tricks on me to this day.)  We named our handsome baby,

Brian Thomas Hodge after Thomas Walker, the same man who welcomed us into his flock and then wrote us such a special letter of recommendation.  We were a Mom and Dad now, by the miracle of adoption.

The first couple of nights with Brian, I would rouse myself several times just to go to his room and stand there to check him and watch him sleep.  I was so in love right from the start and still couldn’t quite take it all in.

So Lord, this is why You chose to bless us with a draft notice in the middle of a war, when our hearts were breaking about Matthew?  This is why you had us go to that specific church!  You are so powerful to turn all of the past happenings into good, guiding us each step of the way! Thank you from the bottom of our hearts, for making all these moves on the “Grand Map” for me and had it all work out for Your glory. Thank you for blessing us in such a special way. 

The story wouldn’t be complete without another obvious reason were drafted. It seemed like the surgery worked! I became pregnant again after a long six years!  We never knew whether the baby would be healthy or not. Our odds were 1 in 10 or 1 in a 1,000.  No doctor could agree. I must say that Ron’s faith never wavered during those long nine months.

 I’d ask him, “What if this baby  is another child with Spina Bifida?”  Ron, steadfast and firm,  would faithfully proclaim, “ There’s no statistics with God. He will give us the strength to bear whatever, just at the right time, just when we need it.  Have faith.”  So I would set my mind on that thought during those long nine months.  “There are no statistics with God…..God will give us the strength”…..over and over again.  Just a simple “setting of the mind.” Of course, some days were harder than others.  

And when this delivery began, this time husbands were allowed in the birthing room.  That was such a blessing to me, as I would not have to be alone if there was a problem.  Ron was just “like Ron” and into everything that was going on during delivery. He and the doctor talked like two clucking hens as Ron asked about how this and that worked and how the doctor felt about the delivery.…and on and on he went.  That kept my mind focused and not fretting.  And just at the right time, our sweet Stephen Paul entered the world, healthy and robust.  The joy was indescribable!

Is this why I had major surgery and all those painful tests? Thank you, God. I see that now. ……Another part of God’s miraculous master plan. 

My mother sent us a letter right after Stephen’s birth, as she was out of country at the time.  Only my Mom could put our feelings in words so beautifully.

Welcome to our world new little one!  You do not yet realize the environment of love which surrounds you.  On your mother;s tummy, wide-eyed and content with the arms which so gratefully cuddle you, every so gently, ever so close. How will you know how unceasingly you were prayed for, how anxiously your birth was awaited, how gratefully your life was received.

Happily,  three years later, I once again was pregnant. When I was in early labor for this pregnancy, we were all sitting around the kitchen table having tea as the labor began slowly.  Brian was giving his Dad a back rub (if you get that…..i’m in labor and Ron gets the attention!!) and Steve was off playing somewhere oblivious to what was happening.  Brian, who was six now and very inquisitive, looked at me from across the table and said, “Mom, did you have those kind of pains when”…….then he smacked his face and smiled.  My heart swelled up with love for him and I told him to come over to me and tell me what his question was.  I put my arms around him and he said, “Oh,Mommy, I wanted to know if you had that kind of pain when you had me. I forgot that I wasn’t in your tummy.”  

God sent me an answer instantly.  “You know, Brian, I had a different kind of pain before I got you.  It was centered around my heart in the middle of my chest and it was a pain that didn’t go away.  I would get it every time I saw a Mother with her child at the store, or  a mother pushing a stroller and even at church when a Mother would enter with an adorable child.  And  you know what Brian? That pain never went away until they placed YOU in our arms.  Well, his big infectious smile spread from one ear to another.  We hugged. 

So, you see in our house, when the kids ever asked about how you can get babies…..we answered that there were two ways this could happen.

And that very same night our precious, Benjamin David arrived healthy and beautiful.  Ron again, was with me, thankfully.  We cried and thanked the Lord together for another gift. Ron just sighed and looked at me and said, “Ahhhh…..My three sons!” 

So you see, God is the Master Designer.  Only He knows what the Map says and where it is going….if we just wait and trust Him. He has a perfect plan.  We might have to wait till Heaven to see the reason for some of  life’s happenings,  but sometimes He allows us to see clearly what He had in mind, here on earth. Our job, in the meantime, is to keep looking up and trusting our great God as we go along. We should remember this and have more faith as we face some of the hurtles on our life's journey……  All charted out on a Map-of-sorts…… in Heaven with our names on it.

"Today I am one day nearer home than ever before. One day nearer the dawning when the fog will lift, mysteries clear, and all the question marks straighten up into exclamation points and I shall see the King!" - Vance Havner

Married Life: A Tapestry Woven

Chapter Three

By Diane Krentel Hodge

At first married life was pretty much how I had imagined it.  It was sheer joy to spend all the time you could with the man of your dreams. The “give and take” of those first few years were, for the most part, effortless due to our love for each other. The first burnt meal, shrunk piece of laundry, scorched shirt, lack of good communication,  seem to “squeak-by” with no real lasting negative outcome.  And just like my childhood dream, we soon were talking of having that big family I always wanted. In my naiveté, I assumed getting pregnant would go without a hitch, like everything else in our marriage to date.

 My heart nearly soared from just the thought of being pregnant.  I was so eager to be a Mom. But It wasn’t long when we realized that having a family wasn’t as effortless as we thought.  

One month piled upon another, with no pregnancy. Before we knew it  a year went by. And with this year, monthly tears of disappointment and failure.  Months of taking my temperature each morning religiously to catch the “optimum moment”, eating the right foods, and reading every fertility book I could get my hands on. The quest became my daily focus and a monumental trial.  My “Mother-in-Love”  who was a bit of a tease, would jest and try to cheer us up by stating,  “Oh, you guys just don’t have the recipe!” 

Needless to say, we dutifully  kept trying, all to no avail. During these three years of doctor appointments,  charts, fertility pills, negative pregnancy tests, and tearful monthly cycles, I slowly began to let the most cherished hope for a family “go”.  I was reading Catherine Marshall’s book “Beyond Ourselves”. The chapter, “ the Prayer of Relinquishment” especially ministered to my broken heart. Here is some of her words that I saved in my journal, 

“ ACCEPTANCE says I TRUST the good will and love of my God.  I’ll open my arms and my understanding to what He has allowed to come to me.  Since I know He means to make all things work together for good, I consent to this present situation with HOPE for what the future will bring.  The secret is simply this: that the Christian life must be lived in the will, not the emotions.  

We stop fighting the evil or less-than-good circumstances.

With that, resentment goes;

Self pity goes.

Perspective comes.

We have turned our back on the problem and are looking steadily at God. 

We are acting out our belief in the character of God-His goodness, His Love.

We are acting out our belief in  the present power of God-in His participating Presences. (Something More, C.M)

It was as if the Lord was trying to get my attention and help me learn that anything, however good, that I put on a pedestal of my heart as a source of JOY is like an idol.  I sensed that He was telling me to take that one thing that is so important, take it off the pedestal, and give it all up and place it in God’s hands.  The Lord wanted me to stop trying to  control this situation but rather open my hand, so to speak, and relinquish this infertility to Him;  giving up what I had always wanted the most and trusting Him.

As I was learning this prayer of relinquishment, I continued going to my doctor. He was a kind old man and he would just pat me on my back and say not to worry and go home and keep trying. During one of my visits,  a blood test was drawn which showed my thyroid was low. This would explain somewhat why I was highly irregular. Thyroid pills were  prescribed as the magical solution to my problem.  Dutifully, I took my thyroid pills with a renewed hope that maybe this would be the magical cure. Sure enough another month and a half went by and I again stumbled on down to the doctor’s office to take another pregnancy test, one more time. And lo and behold,  this time the results were different and finally I was pregnant! 

What utter joy broke out in the Hodge house. We lived in Ron’s hometown and all the relatives and church friends rejoiced with us. I was flying so high.  My nesting activities included buying red baby furniture, knitting a sweater, and making my own maternity clothes. Every where I walked, I would make sure my stomach was pushed way out in front, as I was so proud of my new shape and the life growing inside.  No longer would my heart ache each time I saw a pregnant women or heard a baby cry in public.  I was going to be a mother! My two baby showers were celebrations to me and each new outfit, I would adoringly lay across my bulging stomach imagining how it would look on my new wee one.  My sister in law, Ruthie, was pregnant at the same time and we shared maternity stories across the miles.  Everything was back on track it seemed.  Happiness reigned. We praised the Lord for this miracle.

I recall the winter of my pregnancy was especially long and there was still snow on the ground by the end of April! I couldn’t wait until spring. They thought I was to deliver somewhere the end of May.  By June, being two weeks late,  I decided I waited long enough and   I tried  taking castor liver oil and lo and behold, two and a half hours later, I was definitely in labor and on my way to the hospital! The anticipation was great and we nearly had to pinch ourselves to believe it was finally here after such a long time waiting. When we arrived at the hospital,  each little preparation for birth was a happy ritual….even when I put on the lovely hospital gown with matching booties.  Soon the baby monitor was attached and we waited for the pains to become closer together.  

After several hours it became apparent that the baby’s heart beat on the monitor showed some stress so they wheeled me in to the operating room to move things along. Back then, husbands were not allowed in the delivery room. And I was on my own now.  The doctor used forceps to help thing along and before too long the doctor finally announced, “Mrs. Hodge, you have a baby boy!” Matthew, our “gift of God” entered our lives. But almost in the same  moment, the doctor whisked the baby away  over to another area in the operating room. There was an eerie silence in the room. 

Frantically, I asked “Why isn’t the baby crying?”They all were hovering over the baby. I spoke out again more desperately….”What is wrong?” 

Soon a rather motherly nurse came over to me and took one of my hands and just held it firmly stating that the baby was alive but there was a problem. I knew right then that it must be something serious. The doctor came over and announced that our long-awaited baby had Spina Bifida, a neurological birth defect.  Even with all my experiences of living at Melmark, I asked him to repeat the name and the shock started to settle in.  My mind raced , I thought  surely this was something that can be fixed.  I asked question after question furiously trying to take this all in and make sense of it.  The doctor explained that the baby needed to leave right away to another hospital to close up the part of his spine so they could  keep the baby from contracting meningitis. I barely got to see the baby or even touch him. He was being rushed over for his first surgery and I was wheeled quickly into the recovery room, all alone, as Ron accompanied the baby to the other hospital in town. I will never forget laying on my back looking at the clock slowly ticking along and listening to the other new mothers in the curtained off areas of the room.  Each one was making happy phone calls to their loved ones about their new babies and there was such joy….just a curtain away. My only call was an SOS to my parents and to our pastor. I laid there all alone, filled with questions. Numb. These hours were some of the hardest I have lived through.   

Soon our pastor was at my side and I will never forget his presence at this tender time. Pastor Stady was of a sturdy build, tall, and had these very large hands.  He asked me how I was doing and I closed my eyes and stated that I was going to “go away” as the pain was too great. He grabbed my weak hand in his large strong one. He didn’t quote any scripture to me but stated very firmly that I was going nowhere and that God would help me bare this pain. His assurance came through his hand and into me as I began to hold on mentally and physically. 

Soon I was transferred to the maternity ward, along with the two other happy moms, in the recovery room. When I closed my eyes again in my own private room, I tried to take everything in and rest so that I could get stronger to see my baby.  As I rested,  I was almost haunted by a tune I sang at a Christian school choir in eighth grade.  “ The Lord is my Light and my Salvation…Whom Then Shall I Fear?….the Lord is the Strength of My Life…”  I was hearing this song from Psalm 27 over and over again in my head,  every time I closed my eyes.

 During the next day or so as Ron ran between two hospitals checking on the baby and supporting me and the song remained in my mind. And on the second day of my recovery, my older brother, David, who was a minister, came in for a visit and in his hand he clutched a new Living Letters Bible.  He asked me when I felt able, to turn to PSALM 27 and read it! The VERY SAME chapter that was comforting me and haunting me when I rested. Then I knew the Lord was trying to send me a message!  The words reminded me that He was my High Tower….a place to run into when the pain was too great …..that He was the strength of my life during this time….and much more. I gloried in this special message to me from the Lord. It still is amazing to me how God uses things in our past …..songs memorized….scriptures memorized and mediated on…all stored away to be drawn upon in times of need.  

Three days went rather quickly and soon, I prepared to make my visit over to see my baby in the other hospital. That had been the driving force to keep me going.  I’ll never forget that first special visit with Matthew. My anxious hands held him eagerly and carefully as he was connected to all sorts of devices in the incubator. Warm copious tears ran down my cheeks, but my heart was soaring; as now I could hold my little one. Quickly he became dear to us and known to us as the “little fighter.” We watched him valiantly struggle for his life each day. 

One day, soon after I came home with no baby,  I was resting in the back room. I overheard my parents and Ron whispering in the kitchen. Thinking it was about our Matthew, I got up and asked them what was up.  They looked at me glumly and stated that Ron had just checked the mail and he had received his draft notice to go to Vietnam! My mind went spinning out of control as I wondered how I would deal with this double “cross” in my life. I asked “Why Lord?”

Why am I the mother of a handicapped child, just like Melmark’s children? Hadn’t I been willing to give up Martha, then Melissa?  Hadn’t I paid my dues already in this area of babies, Lord? And now,  could I hold up Ron and entrust him solely to the Lord in this uncertain time of war? How can I do this too? I had much to ponder.

One night in particular, I was very restless and agitated within. I just got up from the dinner table and left the house in a slow run down the street to the edge of the lake near where we lived. No one followed me as I think they knew I needed to be alone.  I was at the bottom mentally, as Matthew continued to have one bad day after another and now he was having trouble breathing.  The nurses kept telling me “not to worry” but I knew in my mother’s heart, that he may not come home for a long time or not at all.  I sat by the lake side and just looked at the sparkling water and God clearly brought to mind the story of Jesus, walking with Peter on the seashore. The Lord asked Peter three times, ”Peter, do you love me?”  Each time, Peter would say, “Oh, yes Lord.” I asked myself why, was I thinking of this story?  I wondered. In that short moment, it dawned on me that possibly the Lord was asking me firstly to accept and trust Him with the fact I had a handicapped child not a happy healthy child with a bright future.  “Yes, Lord, I love you, inspite of this.” Secondly, maybe I had to learn to love and trust Him to learn how to care for him when he finally did come home. “Yes, even so, Lord, I love and trust you.”  Thirdly, could it be, God wanted me to love and trust him even if He decided it was best to take Matthew home to heaven? “Yes, Lord, as I cling to the “broken branches of my life” right now….and approach this “huge waterfall” known as death,  I confess my love to you anew. I trust you!” Instantly, I felt a peace that I know came from Him. I knew why that story came to my mind.  Another lesson.  Another reminder to trust and love.

There were the long prayer-times on our knees after scary phone calls from the hospital.  I remember one such night when we called everyone we knew in our church and asked for a season of prayer for Matthew, as now he was aspirating his milk into his lungs resulting in severe weight loss and resulting congestion in his lungs.  We literally cried out to the Lord over and over again to heal him. He also went through two surgeries during this time to decrease the negative effects of a swelling brain. 

But after several weeks, it became clear to us that we need to stop begging the Lord to heal him……rather ask GOD to do His will…whatever that would be.  It was just like a lightbulb that went on.  That was it!  As much as we wanted to have Matthew as our son, alive, we should focus on God’s will for him..  When we started to pray that way, suddenly we had God’s peace and were able to rest even though things looked so grim.  

And so it was, in August, our “little fighter” lost his battle to live and quietly slipped away from us to join his Heavenly Father.  Completely healed. Able to run with two healthy legs in heaven. Safe in his heavenly Father’s arms. Seven weeks of hope and heartaches came to an abrupt end.  

Ron and I held fast to each other in faith knowing that God does not err.  For the morning, before we left for the funeral, we turned on the stereo and played the Wheaton Bible Men’s choir singing “ All Praise to God.” That may not seem to make any sense, but we were praising the Lord with tears coming down our faces. We turned the volume way up to maximize the words so they would “buoy-us-up” for the task ahead. We were experiencing the delights of “His participating Presence.”(Catherine Marshall) 

And then, we gathered around his tiny white casket sitting there in the graveyard, as the rain just poured down.  It was almost as if heaven was sharing our deep-felt grief. Broken hearts. Sad goodbyes. One last touch of the tiny casket before we turned away.  

Even though the fig tree should not blossom, and there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive fail….even “if”…….. I WILL  exult in the Lord.  I will rejoice in the GOD of my salvation!  The Lord is my strength, not my ideas of being a Mom to Mattie or any other child….And He has made my feet like hinds feet!

And then one day, soon after his burial ,  I turned on some more inspiring hymns and began to pack away, piece by piece, another nursery.  But this time, I was all alone,  and it was my own child’s nursery, not my sisters’. I reminded myself over and over; “God does not err!  There was some reason for Matthew’s short life. I will praise You. I must trust.”  God never wastes our pain someone said. Our hardest tests involve our dearest loves. I can testify that God gives you the strength for hard duties when you need it, not before, not after, but just when you need it.

And the LORD is the one who goes ahead of you;  He will be with you.  He will not fail you or forsake you.  Do not fear, or be dismayed. Deut. 31:8

“Thank you Lord that everything that happens  is part of the lesson plan you have for us in the classroom of life. You refuse to let us stay as children. You keep insisting on us growing up.”( Something More CM)

This real life experience build a tapestry of sorts that takes on proportion, purpose and beauty as you stand back and look at the whole sensitive piece. Beauty that comes from real hurts, disappointments as well as the exciting challenges and successes.  In this “loom of life”, a gentle nail pierced hand helps to weave the threads of each event through the ins and outs of life, holding the piece strongly together. This same hand holds you on your journey in this reality world.

Chapter Two.... College Days.....A Daughter Remembers

College Days by Diane Krentel Hodge

In reality, I don't think anyone is ready for college. Separation from the secure nest of childhood and facing independence for the first time, shakes all you know of life to date. Higher education can be thought of as the first arena where you test how well your foundation stands up and supports you. This journey would take me on a trek into an unknown theater where  challenges and struggles drew deep into the reservoir within.   

I joined the student body of a small Methodist conservative college called Houghton.  I remember the trip to Houghton like it was just yesterday; Mom and Dad sitting in the front seat in their best “Sunday to meeting” clothes, and I was cowering in the backseat in my brand new college suit enjoying the seven hour trip with no brothers to pinch me or bother me.  The car ride itself became the a “mini crash course on life” as Mom and Dad fit in last minute instructions on  “ what to dos and what not to dos” in college.  This made me have even more fears than I had before.  Everyone was on edge and if that wasn’t enough, immediately upon arrival on campus a freshman beanie was squashed on my head, crushing my new perm.  I was thrown into a world of confusion as I faced a mirage of required orientation procedures…. planning my semester roster, finding my combination mailbox, buying my books, meeting my new roommate and unpacking…. just to name a few. Each task included long lines to test my patience and increase the fear that I would be closed out of a class before even getting up to the “check-in” table .

Navigating through these experiences can be a daunting feat even for the most mature Freshman.  As for me, this initiation was shocking as there was no college special weekend to welcome you or a candlelight service of dedication to get you started with encouraging thoughts.  Instead it was like being thrown into a cold pool, not knowing how to swim.  Interestingly enough, throughout these adjusting times in this new world of academia, I noticed my focus was no longer  on whether my “flip” hairdo looked cool or whether or not there was a “Hunk” in  my scheduled classes but rather it was centered solely on staying a float; knowing how I was supposed to succeed in this new mental arena. 

After surviving the first day, going to class and learning the new routine became the next feat. I always sat in the front seat of most classrooms, that is, if I found them!  Sitting in the front would make me appear eager and up for the challenge I thought!  But soon I realized that positioning myself  under the nose of every austere professor was another upheaval for my sensitive insides.  The professors had way of making you feel you knew nothing at all and they spoke a most different language devoid of all the “cools, blasts, and neats“ vernacular of my childhood era. Suddenly this slang became passé and I was confronted with the dire need of using my Webster, as one would use a Bible.  To make matters worse, it soon became apparent to me that my college prep courses in high school failed miserably to reflect the scholastic requirements I faced in this college.

One clear recollection of this was in my Principles of Writing class. I had the same English professor, as my parents did when they attended the college many years back. She stood before us with black laced-up shoes, a pure white bun stacked on her head with rimless spectacles perching on her nose, and of course,  smelling of lavender. Dr Joe rarely smiled and her dresses draped down to her ankles.  I tugged at my short skirt quickly. As I crossed the threshold of her classroom, my inner confidence continued to wane. Our first assignment was to write a descriptive piece about the autumn season.  We were dismissed and told to go out in the woods, observe and write down at least 1000 words to describe what we saw.   Only a couple of pages were required but it was to be filled with all the eloquence one could muster up!  Soon I found myself sitting in damp leaves looking around at the drooping forest and floundering in fear. I had no “epiphany moment” trudging through this laborious process. I passed in my piece on time and it promptly was returned with red marks everywhere.  D- stood out for all to see. My spirits were dashed. No Honor-roll for me this semester. My first taste of reality.  

Another factor to adjust to was what I will call the “dating-factor”at Houghton. Gradually i realized that the boy to girl ratio was so bad, you could almost go a few days without seeing a single male on campus!  If I had wanted to go to a girl’s school I would have done so and this situation was not optimum for me, I thought immaturely. Thankfully, I had a good roommate, Marcia, a farmer’s daughter, graced with intelligence and beauty who enjoyed a good laugh.  WE were  on the same wave length. On date nights we would hang out the window over the front door of the dorm and spy on other gals getting their goodnight kisses.  Frankly, we spent a lot of time laughing about this “island” experience called “college life”. One exam night we even construed a “best ten men” list just for fun and went out to see if we could get them to even say hello to us!!! 

To make the dating factor even worse was that there was only one phone per floor in the four story antiquated dorm. Can you imagine only four phones per three hundred talkative, girls .  This phone was a constant reminder of the lucky girls who would get called to go out on dates!  And guess who was assigned the room right across from the only phone on our floor?? Yes, Marcia and I were the select ones to hear it ring about every five minutes. Whoever was closest was supposed to pick it up and loudly announce the "lucky girl" who was getting a phone call for a date.  What delight!  Of course, with each annoying ring, it became apparent that we weren’t in great demand. No one had put us on their list, it seemed! It didn’t take you long to figure out who the popular ones were going to be. And by October, Marcia and I  were dismayed and disillusioned about the boy-factor. Our preconceptions about beauty and our fetching persona were deeply shaken.

Contrary to today’s youth, who start their evening activities around 10pm and stay up all hours of the night, at our college, you had to be back in your room each night promptly at 10:30PM. To add misery to heartache, there was also a regular bed check to confirm your presence, safe and sound. No need to miss your Mom here! There also was a  strict dress codes and dorm check in times. Strict dress code prohibited you from showing your shoulders or kneecaps.  Regardless,  I would rebelliously roll up the waist line of all my skirts under my bulky sweaters just to make them shorter and more in vogue. Mini skirts were in back then in the real world.  For the life of me, I could never figure out why these body areas were too exciting anyhow and I felt such rules just made these areas all the more fetching. It wasn’t long after taking this all in, I reasoned “Why, oh why, had I chosen this college, and what was I to do?”  By October, I was ready to go home, forfeit my first vain goal of being a nurse and/or change colleges. My parents sensing a problem, arrived suddenly for a visit the very next weekend.  

After long discussions, with a heavy dose of reality checks, we constructed my survival plan. Change majors from Nursing to Elementary Education, as El.Ed. was  considered less of a challenge at that time. I was encouraged to persevere at Houghton for at least two years and then we would reevaluate the situation and make changes if necessary. I dropped chemistry immediately. 

Before my parents left campus that important weekend so long ago, I remember how we drove down the hill to a quaint little store called Barkers to shop for some much needed supplies and a birthday gift for my roommate,  Marcia. What better time to do this when Dad was there with his wallet to lend a helping hand.! This turned out to be the eventful day when I met “Mr. Right” and I didn’t even know it!!!  

Ron, a tall, handsome,  well-dressed  upperclassman waited on us and suddenly I recognized him as one of the “lucky-ten” on Marcia’s and my silly list. Here he was standing right before me and I was dumbfounded and nervous. As it so happened, at that time, there was a contest running at the quaint little country store.  Anyone that made purchases, would receive a coupon to be cast into a pot for a free turkey…. as November was fast approaching.  (Now I ask you, what would a college student want a turkey for?)  But anyhow I threw in my ticket in with all the others and left with my gift in hand with no apparent lightening flashes going off about this tall handsome friendly clerk who waited on me.  My parents left and dorm life settled back down again to a routine in my “not so perfect picture” of college....a nip and tuck adjustment in course load and a stretch in my thinking to “hold on” for a few more years.  

At the same time the “inner child” ideas from within continued to slowly dissolve.  One day while my fingers were slowly pecking out a composition on my new electric typewriter, the phone rang again on our floor, but this time I heard loudly, “Diane Krentel, phone for Diane Krentel!”  Mercy me! I rang over to the phone and picked it up and low and behold it was that handsome clerk, Ron.  After a short introduction, he stated,” I just wanted to call and tell you the results of the turkey contest at Barkers.” “Oh!” I said instantly as my heart plummeted.  With disappointment.  I thanked him very much and hemmed and hahhed.  Then to make me even more uncomfortable he went on to say I had lost the contest!  I didn’t know what to say next and being very gullible, I mumbled out some silly flat statement in embarrassment.  But soon I heard a warm chuckle on the other end of the line and he rescued me.  He assured me he was just joking and asked if I would I like to go to a movie with him next weekend.

And this became our first date…..a date that started more than forty year relationship where love has ruled each day and held us together for better and worst! Dates, back then, were comprised of walking for miles under a solitary umbrella (as it always was raining at Houghton), going to movies and sharing popcorn, hunting together, spooning in the dorm lounges, shooting rats at the dump (believe it or not ) and parking “across the river”( as the term was generally related “to a good smooch “at this time..!  Soon there would be no more talk of transfer for me! I had found my soul mate in this island experience at this challenging school, Houghton! 

 Each new feat in college broadened and prepared me more for my walk with God. I suppose if I were to choose the most lasting lesson during this time, it would be the one shared by a woman English professor in my senior year.  She was a bit lack luster and not at all attractive but one of those intellectual-types that caught your attention.  She sourly stated one day

 “Many of you are engaged and have no business getting married because you don’t know how to be happy all alone.”  Immaturely, I thought how rude and jealous she must be of all those who sported their new quarter-carat diamonds to class!  I never really fully grasped the meaning of this until many years later, raising a family. 

This was a time when I had to share Ron with the challenges of working for a top-rated global company. I seemed almost to be a spectator some weeks as I watched him climb up the corporate ladder. Many times I was alone, supporting Ron from the quietness of this home.  I often wondered and thought about what that professor stated that day so long ago where spring and love were in the air everywhere.  What a gem she gave us to ponder on and refine! I was learning first hand that as wonderful as Ron was, he still couldn’t take the only place in my heart. Who really is the captain of my ship?  Who steered it to happiness? I then knew what that professor had tried to tell us back in college.  The  “happiness that the Lord gives” is not the happiness driven by situations, circumstances, or your husband. What that spinster professor was trying to teach us was that our own sense of wellbeing and peace comes from the fullness of a walk with our Savior each day….through the ho-hums of daily routines…the numbing quiet days….the uneventful days where we live and breath. Not just the exciting times. The following poem exemplifies what she was trying to teach us and its’ wisdom is fathomless. The author is unknown.

WAIT 

Everyone longs to give themselves completely to someone-

To have a deep soul relationship with another-To be loved thoroughly and exclusively.

But God, to a Christian says," 

No, not until you are satisfied, fulfilled, and content with giving yourself totally and 

unreservedly to ME- 

With having an intensely personal and unique relationship with Me alone, 

Discovering that only in Me is your satisfaction to be found, 

Will you be capable of the perfect human relationship that I have planned for you.

You will never be united with another until you are united with Me- 

Exclusive of anyone or anything else, 

Exclusive of any other desires or longings. 

 I want you to stop planning, 

Stop wishing

And allow Me to give you the most thrilling plan existing

One that you cannot imagine.  

I want you to have the best.

Please allow me to bring it to you.

You just keep watching Me, 

expecting the greatest things

Keep experiencing the satisfaction that I am

Keep listening to and learning from the things I tell you.

You just WAIT.  That's all.

Don't worry.

Don’t look around at the things others  have gotten or that I have give them.

Don't look at the things you think you want, or you'll miss what I want to show you.

And then, when your ready, 

I'll surprise you with a love far more wonderful than any of you would dream of. 

You see, until you are ready ( I am working at this moment to have you both ready at the same time),

Until you are both satisfied exclusively with ME and the life I prepared for you, 

You won't be able to experience that love that exemplifies your relationship with Me; 

and this is perfect love.

And dear one, I want you to have this most wonderful love

I want to see in the flesh a picture of your relationship with Me.

and to enjoy materially and contritely all that I have for you

And love that I offer you with Myself.  Know that I love you utterly, 

I am God  

Believe it and be satisfied.

The girl-of-my youth changed quickly at college. God was faithful and allowed me to not only to find a wonderful partner for life at Houghton and receive a good GPA,  but He allowed me to realize that the key for happiness was  directly corresponding to my walk with my Savior. This walk was foundational in facing life’s challenges and joys…..  some that were even more stretching than what I had experienced in college.