Chapter 41 - New Little Tribesman

Soon after settling into the lower level of the old Victorian home on Pillsbury Ave., we have special news for Nick. “We’re going to have a baby,” I tell him. “You’ll be a big brother now.”

“Will it be a boy or a girl?” he queries.

“I’m not sure…but somehow I think it’s going to be a girl.”

Larry and I wallpaper the middle bedroom in cream striped paper with roses, and spray paint a crib white. I nest and decorate, take walks with Nick to the donut shop, rock on the front porch swing. Larry works hard five days a week at a parking ramp project downtown. We begin to share teaching in the singles class equally.

“You know, I’m concerned for all those single parent kids who have no dad at home,” I tell Larry one day. “Maybe some of these men would be willing to mentor them, take the kids out once a week.”

“Let’s talk about it at the next leadership meeting,” Larry answers.

Several men agree to be assigned kids to mentor, to spiritually father them. And during these months we divide the large Friday night gathering into four smaller groups, with a man and a woman paired to lead each. Slowly, as time passes, couples begin to date, get engaged, and eventually marry, with the church’s blessing.

Romaine my sister comes to visit us in August of 1979. She and Jim now have two kids, Cindy and Jimmy, and we all troop to the Minnesota State Fair. We take pictures of her and me under the state fair banner—I am large with child and laughing in my ruffled blouse. “All of this walking might make me go into labor, Romaine. Wouldn’t that be special!”

“Well, it would be alright, because we want to see the baby!” Ro chuckles. That night Larry takes me to MMC (the old Swedish Hospital), and early the next morning on August 28 our child is born.

“It’s a boy!” the doctor tells Larry, as he lays him on my abdomen. “A healthy boy.”

“Great!” Larry exclaims, joyfully.

I am dazed from pushing, and the forceps delivery. I gaze at the little wiry body on my chest, his eyes squeezed shut. “He looks like you, Honey! And here I thought I was having a girl.”

Later Larry brings Nick to see his brother through the windowed nursery. He hands me flowers that he and Daddy just bought. “Here, Mom,” he says with a gap-toothed smile. “These are for you. What is the baby’s name?”

“Jared, Honey. It means ‘He descends, or one who is coming.’ Jared in the Old Testament—his name was telling others that One, Jesus is coming. Do you remember what your name means?”

“Victorious warrior.”

“And that’s what you are!”

Nick smiles. “Yes!”

We bring Jared home, brimming with happiness. As time passes life is like a roiling bright river almost overreaching its banks, our lives are so full. We are abiding in the Lord…. He has made us fruitful.

“I’m actually planted, growing up in my tribe,” I muse, as I rock Jared one evening. “I fit in here. Larry and I are ministering to a unique people group—single parents. Because we’ve been through divorces also, these people trust and love us. And we love them—they’re our closest friends. Thank you so much, God.”

But there is no margin. Feedings, meals, devotions, meetings, church services, counseling. We love it all, but even Larry is growing tired.

Months later when he is laid off work and draws unemployment, we have some relief. Larry takes time to paint the gray Victorian duplex fresh white and cream colors.

“How can we keep up this pace when you go back to work again?” I ask, sipping coffee at our kitchen table. “It’s like you’re doing two fulltime jobs, between cement work and ministering to single parents.”

“Well, you carry the load too.”

“Yes, and now with a new baby I’m even busier, and we have so little quality time as a family. Is it time to get a place of our own? We’ve been here almost two years. Let’s pray about it.”

“We don’t have much for a down payment,” Larry replies. “But if God makes a way, maybe we can find a small house in the country.”

As I scour the newspaper from day to day I find a building company that offers loans for first time homebuyers. And because we live in the inner city, and Larry has been laid off, we qualify. Better yet, Larry can build the home for the company, keeping costs down. Amazingly…the two and a half acre available lots are in Elk River, near Larry’s family in Monticello. It’s a forty-five- minute drive from Souls Harbor, but we would be near the Anderson clan. And we would still be a part of the Group, our close friends at church.