It was pretty hot outside as Grant and I stood with our families around Grant’s father’s memorial marker in the Beaufort National Cemetery.
Texas Heart – Part 27 {No Empty Words}
I sat in the passenger seat of my car as Grant drove down the long oyster shell road that led to his dad’s memorial marker in the Beaufort National Cemetery.
Texas Heart Part 26 {The Last Good-bye}
Texas Heart Part 25 {Who Says You Can’t Go Home?}
“Grant!” I whispered loudly through the tent flap.
We were camping in Seward, Alaska with friends of family and it was sometime in the middle of the night. I had to use the bathroom and the bathroom buildings were about a quarter of a mile down the road. I was afraid to walk there alone.
“Grant, I need to go to the bathroom!” I whispered again. Please, oh please wake up! I thought to myself.
I heard him stir and mumble something.
I waited in the semi-darkness a few more moments and then realized Grant wasn’t waking up. Since we weren’t married, I didn’t feel comfortable going into his tent and waking him up in the middle of the night.
I sighed and looked down the gravel road where the bathroom was located. I knew I couldn’t wait until morning. I had to go.
I worked up my courage and started walking. Thankfully, since it was summer in Alaska, it was still pretty light.
I saw a few campfires glowing in the distance as I approached the bathrooms. I went as quickly as possible and half-ran back towards our tents, looking around for any sign of bears.
I did it! I did it! I chanted to myself.
As I rounded the last corner before our tents, I saw the dog. He was standing in the middle of the road – the road that I needed to walk down to get back to our campsite.
I froze in fear.
Ever since I was a little girl I have been afraid of dogs. I like friendly dogs once I get to know them, but whenever I see a dog I don’t know, I always jump with a twinge of fear.
When I was around seven or eight years old, my brothers and I used to spend a lot of time on a plantation near our home that some friends of ours live on.
There were lots of dogs on the plantation. Whenever they would come near and bark, I would get so scared that our babysitter, Sarah, would let me ride on her back.
It probably didn’t help that around that same time I watched a Little House on the Prairie episode where a pack of wild dogs ran rampant all over the small prairie town, hurting people and killing animals.
So, that night in Alaska, I flinched and stood still and stared at the dog that most certainly was wild and was preparing to attack.
Then my fears came true. He growled at me.
Oh no! Lord, please save me! I prayed.
I could already see the headlines: South Carolina girl mauled to death by a wild dog at Alaskan campground.
It would be the type of thing where people would read it and say, “What was that girl doing out there anyway? She should know better than to be alone in the Alaskan wilderness.”
Then suddenly, the dog stopped growling and started wagging his tail at something around the bend that I couldn’t see.
Then I heard a voice say, “Hey boy” to the wild dog.
I let out a sigh as I waited for the dog’s owner to round the bend. I guess he’s not wild after all.
Then I saw the cowboy boots.
Grant smiled a sleepy smile at me as he rounded the corner.
The dog quietly trotted away.
He must have realized that he no longer had easy prey.
My hero! I almost exclaimed aloud.
“GraceAnna, what are you doing out here? You shouldn’t have come out here alone!”
“Oh, I know that now.” I said as I ran up to him and grabbed his hand.
Grant smiled again. “It took me a few minutes to realize that I wasn’t dreaming when you tried to wake me up.”
“I’m just so glad you woke up and saved me from that awful dog!”
“That old mutt?” Grant asked smiling.
“Grant!”
Grant smiled as he squeezed my hand and we approached the campsite.
“GraceAnna, get some rest. It’s still a few hours until morning.”
“And hey,” Grant added as I started to climb back into the tent.
I turned and looked back at him.
“You’re doing pretty good out here. You’ve almost made it through the night.” He said with a wink.
I zipped up my sleeping bag and closed my eyes. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to use the bathroom again before morning.
I also hoped that I was just imagining that I felt sick.
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I sat in the truck half-crying. It was the next morning and it was rainy and cold.
“GraceAnna, I’m taking you back to Anchorage and that’s that.” Grant said matter-of-factly.
“But Grant it will ruin the trip and everyone will think I’m leaving because I’m a big baby”
“It doesn’t matter what people think, GraceAnna. You are running a fever and you don’t need to stay another night outside.”
I knew Grant was right, but I felt like I was chickening out of the camping trip.
I had so wanted to be brave and adventurous and stay out there the whole weekend like everyone else.
I had wanted to do something I’d never done before.
But I had woken up that morning feeling worse and running a fever.
I couldn’t deny it, I was miserable. And now it was raining and everything was wet.
“I’m going to talk to everyone and let them know I have to take you back, okay? They will understand.”
Grant got out of the truck and explained the situation to the families we were camping with.
They were so gracious. And no one said anything about me being a baby. At least that I could hear.
As we were heading to the truck to leave, Grant said, “Wait!”
“What?” I asked.
“Let’s go back into your tent. I want to take a picture of something.”
I crawled back in the tent.
“Now sit right in front of your pallet. Yes, right there.” Grant said as I stooped over where I had slept the night before.
Grant snapped a picture. “Yep, just wanted to take this shot for proof that you slept outside.”
“Thanks, Grant. That will be a wonderful photo.” I said with a hint of sarcasm.
A few minutes later we were heading back to Anchorage in the warm truck.
I was already starting to feel better.
“Now GraceAnna, we are going to get you well.” Grant said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to feed you a good meal, you are going to get some good sleep, and we are going to kill this fever!”
I stared out the window as long as I could at the beautiful Alaskan mountains, but before I knew it, the thought of a warm bed that night, plus the effects of the tylenol lulled me to sleep.
“GraceAnna, wake up!” Grant’s voice awakened me.
I sat up. We were in an IHOP parking lot.
“Time for a good meal.” Grant explained.
Once inside, I stared at the menu. “I don’t really know what to get.” I said. “I never eat here.”
“You never eat here? You are really missing out! I’ll order for you.” Grant placed the order with the waitress and before I knew it there were pancakes, bacon, eggs, and hash-browns in front of me.
“Eat it all.” Grant told me.
I did.
When we left, I was already feeling so much better.
“See, GraceAnna, I know you. You were just run-down from your trip out here, the time-change, and the lack of sleep. Now let’s get you to bed and you’ll be as good as gold.“
Grant dropped me off at the family’s house that I was staying at.
“Get some sleep,” he said as he let me go inside.
The house was empty and we were alone.
But Grant said good-night.
I climbed in bed and and drifted off to sleep thinking about how thankful I was that I had a man who took care of me. He was already protecting and providing for me.
He got me out of the Alaskan wilderness, fed me his version of a good meal, and now I was in a warm bed instead of camping in the wet and cold.
And even though he could have taken advantage of the opportunity to be alone with me, he didn’t.
Lord, thank you for Grant Castleberry, was the last thing I thought before falling asleep.
——————————
to be continued…
Texas Heart Part 24 {Starry Skies}
Note: {I wasn’t planning on going into more details of our Alaska trip because I am trying to finish Texas Heart 🙂 But Grant insisted that I include this. So, here’s part 24.}
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“Do you like camping?” Grant asked with a half-smile on his face.
We were still in Alaska, and it was approaching the last few days of my visit.
Now Grant had such a huge smile on his face that he was beginning to make me laugh.
It was so dark outside!
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
I could see the claw impressions on the thin tent lining. Any moment the terrible creature outside would most likely shred open the whole side of the tent.
I started to tell Grant about my failed childhood attempts at camping, but I could see that I was getting nowhere.
“Okay, okay. . .” I finally decided to be honest with Grant and with myself, “Camping is not my thing.”
“Uh oh,” Grant said, still smiling. “Well, we are going camping this weekend.”
“Oh, okay.” I said slowly, waiting for Grant to explain.
Grant went on to tell me that the family I was staying with had previously planned a camping trip for this particular weekend. There was no reason for their plans to change since Grant and I had crashed them. And since Grant and I weren’t married yet, it would be inappropriate for me to stay behind at their house alone with Grant visiting every day. The best solution was for us to join them. They had been so gracious to invite us.
“It will be fine.” I quickly responded. “I’m sure I’ll have a great time. I know I can do it.”
Grant raised his eyebrow and looked at me.
“Grant it will be great.” I was determined that this time, there would be no chickening out. I would stay the night in a tent because well, there would be no Broggi house to run inside to. We would be in the real wilderness.
———————————–
We loaded up the truck with all of the camping supplies needed for the weekend. I kept telling myself constantly that I could do it and that it would be a ton of fun.
But I couldn’t ignore the fact that I didn’t feel well. I felt like I might be running a fever, but I didn’t want to say anything to Grant or to the family because I was afraid it would look like I was being a baby.
“GraceAnna, are you alright?” Grant asked as he noticed me leaning my head against the truck seat as we pulled out of the drive.
“Oh yeah, I’m fine, just a little tired.” I was hoping that was all that it was.
We started the three or so hour drive to Seward, the small fishing town that we would camp right outside of. It was evening, but it was still light, because it didn’t get dark this time of year.
Once we got out of Anchorage, the drive was breathtaking. We saw waterfalls flowing down the sides of mountains and a convocation of bald headed eagles sitting on a water bank.
I was enjoying every moment of our trip. I had never seen such wilderness beauty before. God’s creation was breathtaking and I forgot all about not feeling well.
We rounded one bend and I shouted, “Look, Grant a bear!!!”
Sure enough, there was a bear climbing up the side of a rock in the distance.
I leaned my head against the head rest again. There was no denying it, I wasn’t feeling well. But I still didn’t want to tell Grant.
“Grant, I’m just going to rest for a little while.”
“That’s fine, GraceAnna. I’m just going to listen to a sermon.” Grant said as he hooked up his ipod in the small truck the two of us were driving in.
I didn’t want to sleep, I wanted to look at the beautiful scenery outside my window, but I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.
I closed my eyes and tried not to think of the bear we had just spotted on the cliff.
——————————
to be continued…
Texas Heart Part 23 {Unchartered Frontier}
Texas Heart – Part 22
Texas Heart – Part 21
Texas Heart – Part 20
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my parents’ bedroom staring at my reflection. I was wearing a long dress. Not just any dress, it was the dress I had ordered to wear on my wedding day.
It was absolutely beautiful, but something didn’t seem quite right.
“What’s wrong?” my mom asked, “Don’t you like it?”
“Yes, I like it. . . I mean, it’s gorgeous. . . but . . .” and I paused trying to form my next words.
I didn’t really know what my hesitation or my thoughts were. It was a gorgeous gown. The fabric was Italian silk gazar and it had custom embroidered bands of floral applique on the bodice.
I thought the delicate applique gave the dress a vintage look, which I loved.
When it arrived and I stared at in the box, it took my breath away. I thought it was perfect. But when I tried it on in front of the full-length mirror, something wasn’t right.
It didn’t fit me like I had thought it would. It just didn’t seem like what I had imagined I would wear on my wedding day.
I kind of knew what I wanted, but I didn’t know where to find it. I imagined a dress that was slubbed-silk, that had maybe a v-neck or off the shoulder sleeves with a gentle ruffle. I had seen a dress like that on a movie once and had loved it. I didn’t really want anything with beads or bling.
I had ordered the gown from an online store because I was short on time. Grant and I would be getting married in just a few months, so I didn’t have a lot of time to dress shop.
Plus, I really didn’t have a desire to go try on a ton of gowns.
I know, that sounds kind of weird, but shopping for a wedding dress overwhelmed me a little bit.
Sometimes I can be very indecisive about the simplest of decisions. So, the thought of going to a bridal store where there were hundreds of dresses that cost hundreds of dollars just seemed daunting.
I knew I wanted a dress that was simple, different, yet very elegant.
And of course I wanted a dress that made me look beautiful on my wedding day – of course! But I also wanted to make sure the dress that I wore honored the God who had brought me the man with whom I would spend the rest of my life.
I wanted the focus of our wedding to be Christ, for people to feel blessed and encouraged and for them to say more about the meaning of the worship service and the vows spoken, rather than asking, “Did you see her dress?”
I think that was another reason that I didn’t want to try on a ton of dresses. I was almost worried that I would get distracted from what our wedding was really about. After all, I had seen “Say Yes to the Dress” and the countless girls who leave the bridal store spending way more than they had planned.
But as I stood in front of the mirror that day, I was feeling like I was forcing myself to say yes to the dress. I felt like I should absolutely love the dress. I wanted to be as beautiful as possible for Grant on our wedding day.
Though I didn’t understand why, I knew I didn’t love it on me.
“I do love it,” I told my mom, trying to convince myself that I was telling the truth, “I really do. It’ll be great.”
—————————————–
A few days later, my mom and I drove to Charleston to go shopping for a bridal veil and shoes. I had decided to keep the wedding dress and I just kept telling myself that it was the right one.
As I stared out at the marsh grass that runs alongside Highway 17, I finally blurted to my mom, “There’s just something about the dress. I don’t know what it is. It just doesn’t seem right. I don’t know if I’m just being indecisive because it’s such a big day and everyone always makes a big deal over the wedding dress. Maybe I’m just falling into that typical desire to want ‘the best.'”
“Well, GraceAnna, here’s the thing, it is the only dress that you’ve tried on,” my mom began, “It could be that if you tried on other dresses, you would know for sure. Or, you could find something else that you like better. But, the point is, we don’t have a lot of time. You are getting married in just a few months.”
“I know.”
“God led you to that dress and allowed you to order it, and your dad and I want to buy it for you. It is beautiful.”
“I know” I said again, starting to feel like the spoiled American girl that I am.
“However, you know that God cares about the dress that you wear on your wedding day. And your dad and I certainly want you to love your dress. Remember Matthew 6?” My mom then began to quote the words that I also had memorized:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?”
The passage brought perspective and refreshment to my heart as those words always have. It wasn’t the first time my mom had quoted it to me, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
“We just need to pray about it,” my mom continued. “Let’s pray that if God wants you to wear another dress, that it would literally ‘fall out of heaven’.” Let’s pray that we won’t have to go look through hundreds of dresses, but that if God has another dress for you, He would just put it right in front of us so that we wouldn’t have any doubts about it. In fact, let’s go ahead and pray right now.”
We bowed our heads on Hwy 17 and prayed about my wedding dress. Well I bowed my head, thankfully mom didn’t since she was driving.
I might have doubted that God could even care about something so insignificant had my parents not taught me to pray about everything since I was a young girl.
When I was 12 years old, I took piano lessons. The problem was, we didn’t own a piano for me to practice on during the week. Because of this, I had to either go to the church to practice on a piano there, or practice on my little electronic keyboard.
I had been taking lessons for several years and I wasn’t really progressing because of the practicing problem. In my mind, I needed to quit taking lessons if we weren’t able to purchase a piano, because my dad was just wasting money on the lessons.
One evening, while I was riding my bike with my mom while she ran in the neighborhood, I explained my dilemma to her.
“GraceAnna, have you asked God for a piano?” She asked.
“Well no, I haven’t” I responded honestly.
She started quoting Matthew 6 and then said, “Let’s ask God for a piano.”
“Okay, I’ll just pray that we could find some old piano that someone doesn’t want or need anymore.”
“Is that the kind of piano that you want?” Mom asked.
“Well, I mean, all I need is a piano, it doesn’t matter what I want, plus I’m not going to ask God to give me something nice.”
“Why? Don’t you think God is able to give you something nice?”
“Of course He can,” I said slowly, realizing where this was going.
“If you are going to ask God to give you a piano, why not ask him for a beautiful one? If God chooses to give you an old one, or none at all, then you need to be content in that. But ‘you have not because you ask not’.”
“Okay, I will then.”
So that evening as I rode my pink bike in the darkening light, I prayed not just for any piano, but a beautiful piano.
“Hey GraceAnna,” my mom said a few minutes later, “Let’s pray that the Lord would answer our prayer by Christmas. If He doesn’t give you a piano by then, let’s assume that it’s time for you to quit taking lessons, okay?”
“Okay.”
“And I want you to do two things. One, I want you to write today’s date and our request in your journal. And second, I don’t want you to tell anyone about our prayer. No one. This is between you and me and God. Sometimes no one needs to know except the Lord.”
As September faded into October and October brought on November, there was no sign of a piano. Not even a hint.
One day, I said to my mom, “It’s almost Christmas,” knowing that she would know what I meant.
“But it’s not Christmas yet,” she replied.
A few days before Christmas, we were all in the kitchen eating lunch after church when my dad received a phone call.
“Who was that?” my mom asked my dad.
“Oh that was Ron and he told me about a piano over at a church. They want to sell it. Ron says its really nice. It’s an antique Baby Grand that has been restored. The church is getting a new one and they need to sell this one by Christmas.”
My dad had no idea what we had prayed. Ron had no idea what we had prayed.
One afternoon a few days later, my parents went to take a look at it. I wasn’t there, but my mom called me, “GraceAnna, you will not believe it, the piano is absolutely beautiful!”
My heart leapt and sunk all at the same time when I heard those words…a Baby Grand piano? from London? Completely refurbished? It definitely was a beautiful piano, more beautiful than I had imagined in my prayers . . . but a beautiful piano that was most definitely worth thousands.
My mom began to explain to me that the man who had donated the piano to the church had done so in honor of his mother who had died in a car accident the year before. The man had the piano restored so that it would play beautifully and be a fitting tribute to his mother. But now he needed to sell it because someone was giving a new full-size grand piano to the church at Christmas.
This man didn’t want to sell the piano to just anybody, so he had been praying for the right buyer.
When he met my dad, he said, “Dr. Broggi, I feel like I know you well. I listen to you everyday on the radio and I can’t tell you how much you have helped me grow in my Christian life.”
The man was very gracious and agreed upon an affordable price.
A few days later, I stood in shock and amazement in our living room at home and stared at not just any piano, but a beautiful piano.
I couldn’t believe it. I shouldn’t have been surprised that God had answered my prayers, but I was.
I smiled as I looked out the window of the car as the forgotten memories from over 10 years earlier flooded my mind. I had vowed as a young girl to never forget how God had answered my prayer, but so often I had. So often I doubted God’s love and care for the little things in my life.
My worries about having the perfect wedding dress disappeared as I remembered my childhood faith. God cared, so I didn’t need to worry.
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An hour later, my mom and I arrived in Charleston. I had picked out several boutiques that I wanted to look at to find a wedding veil.
“I’m not completely sure this place sells veils or wedding gowns,” I told my mom as we approached the first place on my list, “but I know they sell bridesmaids dresses, so they might.”
As the front door of the little shop closed behind us and my eyes adjusted to the natural light in the boutique, I was unable to move because of what I saw displayed in the middle of the shop.
My mom had stopped too and I heard her whisper, “Oh, GraceAnna…”
to be continued…