by Charlotte Carpenter

A slow but steady rain came down all that wintry morning and froze where it fell—on the ground, the trees, the buildings. By mid-afternoon the rain had stopped, and we looked on a crystal world. We were accustomed to the white hoarfrost of winter, but this was something else—a hard, clear coating of solid ice. Our five children, ages five to sixteen, returned from school exclaiming about how good the sledding would be on the steep hill in our pasture.

They took out at once, but they never reached their destination, for between home and hill lay a gently rolling, treeless meadow. Here they found that their sleds would speed over the ice from fence to fence with only the weight of their bodies to keep them going. What fun they had. When they came home to chores and supper, they were so excited. “Mom and Dad, you’ve got to come with us down to the pasture tonight,” they said. They had never seen ice so slippery that they didn’t need a hill for coasting on their sleds.

Why should fortyish parents risk life and limb by going out on a dangerously slick night? They begged until we simply could not refuse them.

Gingerly we made our way to the meadow. Even with rubber footgear, we found it hard to walk. The sleds we pulled kept sliding into the backs of our legs. It was very cold, and my husband, the practical one, carried an armload of wood to build a fire.

We will never forget the unbelievably beautiful sight that met our eyes when we reached the meadow. The moon and stars, shining brilliantly as they do only on clear, cold nights, turned the meadow into a lake of glass. We built our fire at the top of a slight incline. The ice reflected us, and the leaping flames danced on the ice.

Again and again the children and sleds flew over the ground. If two rode together, the sled went faster—so fast the riders could barely turn in time to avoid crashing into the fence. The littlest ones rode back to the starting point, easily pulled by older brothers. We parents envied them—the hardest part for us was walking back after the ride. We left most of the sledding to our children and stayed near the fire, absorbed in the dreamlike magic of the night.

We all felt so good when we started back that we hardly noticed our cold feet and tired bodies.

“Will the ice still be here tomorrow?” one of the children asked.

“Probably not if the sun shines,” I answered. And sure enough, by midmorning the ice was gone, leaving only an expanse of brown grass.

To this day, when we’re in the meadow, whether it’s covered with the luxuriant green of summer or the white snow of winter, we remember the wonder of that night. Despite six other witnesses I harbor a slight doubt that it was real, for the experience seems like something we must have imagined.

My husband and I learned several things that night: to enjoy an interlude of joy when it comes; not to put off our children when they find something wonderful and so unusual that it may never happen again; and not to say, “We’re too busy now. It will have to wait.” We go with them to see a new calf, a robin on the lawn, a butterfly or bug. We share their excitement over a ballgame, a school play, or graduation. For now we know this: Refuse to take the time, and you will miss something precious to hold in memory. A magical sledding on glass in the starlight may happen only once in a lifetime.

Looking ahead…

Young children view the world with a unique blend of awe and urgency. Everything, from a rainbow to a chocolate sundae, is new and exciting to them. And everything needs to be experienced right now!

We sometimes get impatient with this perspective—yet we could learn from it. For as we plow through our endless list of chores and responsibilities, postponing time with our loved ones, life hurtles by— like a sled in a meadow of ice. Before we know it, we’re standing before heaven’s gates, wondering how we got there so fast. Don’t miss the precious nights of magic on the way.

– James C Dobson

From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James & Shirley Dobson

“Like newborn babies, crave pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow up in your salvation.” 1 Peter 2:2

Our culture tends to emphasize personal growth at the cost of marriage commitment. Humans are made for a lifelong growth curve, and the best place to experience it is inside a faithful, God‐blessed marriage. When the Lord Jesus is the “third person” in our union, we can flourish with a spiritual intimacy and growth unavailable to others. I (jcd) am reminded of a letter a woman wrote to me:

Dear Dr. Dobson: My husband recently left me after fifteen years of marriage.

We had a great relationship, but something was missing—we had no spiritual bond between us. Please tell young couples that there will always be a void in their lives together without Christ. A good marriage must have its foundation in Him in order to experience lasting love, peace, and joy. I am now growing steadily in my walk with the Lord, but I am alone.

Don’t forget to grow with God together. The “pure spiritual milk” Peter writes about is the Word of God. Along with Christian fellowship and prayer, the Bible will feed the deepest hungers of your heart. And you’ll find the soul‐mate of your dreams—sitting right beside you!

Just between us…

• Do our church experiences nurture our spiritual life?
• Do we have friends who encourage our spiritual growth?
• How can we do a better job of growing together in God’s Word?

Lord, give us a hunger for Your Word. May we claim the spiritual growth You promise and the emotional and physical intimacy that can come with it. Amen.

From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James & Shirley Dobson

Night Light for Couples – Cool Blades

by Pam Gross

It was a vaguely familiar feeling—a feeling of freedom experienced a lifetime ago. Motion. Speed. Wind. Excitement. Small but present danger. Oh, yes! That same exhilaration that comes with competence. I was doing it! I was rollerblading on the boardwalk at Seaside, Oregon, on a glorious late summer afternoon. Two miles of flat, smooth pavement, sunshine, ocean air. I couldn’t help my smile; it was as ridiculously relentless as a yellow happy face. My body moved with relative ease and a modicum of grace. Push, glide, push, glide—don’t lift the feet so high. Swing the hips. Oops! Too much push means too much glide. Let’s get more control here. Up and down! Up and down! Miles and miles—every once in a while picking up the scent of a cigar as I once again whizzed past my husband reading Tom Clancy on a bench.

Getting tired, I informed my husband that on the next pass I wanted to stop.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be ready.”

Stopping was not a skill I had mastered at that point. As I approached him, I slowed to a more manageable speed. He stood up, swung his arms wide, and enfolded me in a great hug.

“I am your stopping post,” he whispered.

I thought, Yes. What a wonderful metaphor. You are my safe stopping place.

I sat for a while on the bench enjoying the moment. Some teenagers sauntered past, talking quietly among themselves. The last, a young man of about thirteen, looked admiringly at my skates, bent down, and murmured just so we could hear, “Cool blades.” Then he picked up his pace to catch his friends. My husband and I said in unison, “Cool blades?” And we laughed.

Then the sunset zealots began converging like football fans on Super Bowl Sunday. I hoisted myself off the bench to make the most of the fading light. Up and down, push and glide. Lost in the exquisite rhythm and the elegant air, I almost missed them. But out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a bicycle surrey pulled up close to the boardwalk. Four women nested there comfortably in that distinctly female way of companionable silence. I thought they were completely absorbed by the inch‐by‐inch disappearance of the day, but as I moved past, almost out of earshot, I heard the soft call of support: “You go, girl!” To acknowledge, I signaled a “thumbs up” and continued on.

Now, whenever I put on my skates, I hear the young voice saying, “Cool blades,” and I smile. When I think of my husband as a safe stopping place, I smile. When I recall the soft call of support, I smile. I’m sure glad I didn’t take seriously those people who predicted, “Rollerblade? You’re nearly sixty! You’ll kill yourself!”

Kill myself? I’d say I was perfectly alive that day on the boardwalk.

Looking ahead…

The routine of what might be called the safe, predictable life has a way of wearing down wives and husbands. Too many years spent in that same office with the broken air conditioner, mowing that same lawn with the crabgrass that never goes away, scraping the ketchup off those same dishes, and making the same lunches for seemingly ungrateful children can leave married couples bored and restless. What’s the solution?

One answer is to open your mind to the possibilities around you. Learn a new skill… study a new subject… take on a new hobby… pursue a new adventure. Think about what you’ve always wanted to try, then do it. You may even find yourself rollerblading down the boardwalk—and loving it.

– James C Dobson

From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James & Shirley Dobson

“In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name.” Psalm 33:21

When a sudden storm strikes a ship at anchor, only the links of chain and the anchor wedged in the rocks keep vessel and crew from being set dangerously adrift. Obviously, the more tumultuous the times, the more important the moorings. In our own stressful moments, our hopes need to be anchored securely—not in wishes or feelings, but in God’s promise. As the author of Hebrews said, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure”(Hebrews 6:19).

Isn’t it comforting to know that we have a secure anchor in our marriages? When storms threaten to overtake us, Jesus Christ will not let us drown. We can count on Him to deliver what He has promised. We may not know what the future holds for our family, career, finances, or dreams—but we can rest in the knowledge that our souls are safe in the hands of almighty God.

Just between us…

• Can you think of a time when you thought the storms of life would capsize you? What kept you float?
• Besides God, who or what provides security and stability in your life?
• Do you ever feel adrift spiritually? If so, how can I help?
• Have we placed our hopes and dreams firmly in God’s hands? If not,

can we do that together now?

Lord, You know the desires of our hearts; You know our secret fears, too. But we acknowledge Your unfailing promises and steadfast love. Thank You for being our rock. Tonight we cast our hopes and dreams on You for safekeeping, because we trust You. Amen.

From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James & Shirley Dobson

“Faith is being sure of what we hope for.” Hebrews 11:1

Hope based on the realistic expectation that something can or will change is a powerful, positive, driving force. It motivates us to do our best and helps us achieve what may seem impossible to others. But naive hope that’s grounded in wishful thinking can be deeply disappointing and even destructive. I (jcd) know a woman—I’ll call her Martha—who was hurt repeatedly by her father’s lack of interest in her. As long as Martha continued to hope he would change, she suffered a fresh wound whenever he missed an important family event or failed to consider her feelings. I urged Martha to realize that her father was emotionally blind—he was incapable of seeing her needs.

Once she began to accept his “handicap” as permanent, her pain lessened considerably. Your partner’s temperament or experiences may prevent him or her from fully comprehending your feelings and frustrations. My advice is that you change what can be altered, explain what can be understood, teach what can be learned, revise what can be improved, resolve what can be settled, and negotiate what is open to compromise.

Then determine to accept the rest. As you overlook these few “unresolvables” in your relationship, you’ll develop a perspective that brings realistic hope for an honest and satisfying marriage.

Just between us…

• What kinds of changes do we hope to see in each other? Are our hopes realistic? ‘
• Would it help our relationship to accept our “unresolvables”?
• What in our marriage gives you the greatest sense of hope?

Father, thank You that You are “the God of all hope.” Tonight we look to You for help in bringing honest, healing hope to our marriage. Show us what we can change, show us what we should accept, and bless us with hope. Amen.

From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James & Shirley Dobson

“We must obey God rather than men!” Acts 5:29

Authors and counselors Chuck and Barb Snyder describe themselves as the “World’s Most Opposite Couple”—and it may be true. Chuck says the only things they have in common are the same wedding anniversary and the same children. He’s driven; she’s laid‐back. She enjoys soft classical music; he prefers country western at maximum volume. She’s left‐handed; he’s right‐handed. And so it goes. Perhaps in part because of their differences, the Snyders have experienced nearly every imaginable conflict in marriage— over scheduling, communication, home life, finances, discipline of the children, and more. In over forty years of marriage, however, the Snyders have learned to appreciate their differences. They have faced, and weathered, more than their share of storms. The key, Chuck says, is nothing fancy—simply obedience to the Lord. If there’s hope for the World’s Most Opposite Couple, there’s hope for the rest of us, too.

Just between us…

• Were you attracted by my “opposite” traits when we were dating?
• Have we survived despite our differences, or because of them?
• Do we accept the uniqueness of each other as God designed us, or do we struggle to “redesign” each other in our own images?
• Which of my traits that are different from yours do you appreciate most?

Heavenly Lord, thank You for the differences that You weave together to make our marriage strong. Help us to respect, appreciate, and affirm these unique qualities more each day. Amen.

From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James & Shirley Dobson

by Herman and Roma Rosenblat

It is bitter cold on this dark, winter day in 1944. But it is no different than any other day in the Nazi concentration camp. Back and forth I pace, trying to keep my emaciated body warm. I am just a boy, and hungry. I have been hungry for longer than I want to remember. Edible food seems like a dream. Each day, as more of us disappear, the happy past seems also like a dream, and I sink deeper into despair.

Suddenly, I see something moving in the field beyond the camp’s two barbed wire fences. Families are working in the field; near the outer fence is a young girl. With an eye out for the guards, I hurry to the inside fence.

The girl stops working and looks at me with sad eyes—eyes that seem to say she understands. I ask, across twenty feet and two fences, if she has something to eat. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a red apple. A beautiful, shiny red apple. She looks to the left and to the right and then with a smile of triumph, throws the apple over the fences. I pick it up, holding it in trembling, frozen fingers, then run away as fast as I can. If the guards see us, we will both be shot.

The next day, I cannot help myself—I am drawn at the same time to that spot near the fences. Am I crazy for hoping she will come again? Of course. But in here, I cling to any tiny scrap of hope.

She comes. And again, she brings an apple, flinging it over the fences with that same sweet smile. This time I catch it and hold it up for her to see. Her eyes twinkle. And for the first time in so long, I feel my heart move with emotion.

For seven months we meet like this. Sometimes we exchange a few words. Sometimes, just an apple. But she is feeding more than my belly, this angel from heaven. She is feeding my soul. And somehow, I know I am feeding hers as well.

One day I hear frightening news: We are being shipped to another camp. The next day when I greet her, my heart is breaking. I can barely speak. “Do not bring me an apple tomorrow,” I say. “I am being sent to another camp. We will never see each other again.” Turning before I lose all control, I run away. I cannot bear to look back. If I did, I know she would see tears streaming down my face.

Months pass, and the nightmare continues. Only the memory of this girl sustains me. And then one day, just like that, the nightmare is over. The war has ended. Those of us still alive are freed. I have lost everything precious to me, including my family. But I still have the memory of this girl, a memory I carry in my heart as I move to America to start a new life.

The years go by. It is 1957. I live in New York City. A friend convinces me to go on a blind date with a lady friend of his. Reluctantly, I agree. But she is nice, this woman named Roma. And like me, she is an immigrant, so we have at least that in common.

“Where were you during the war?” Roma asks me gently, in that delicate way immigrants ask one another such questions.

“I was in a concentration camp in Germany,” I reply. Roma gets a faraway look in her eyes. “What is it?” I ask. “I am just thinking about something from my past, Herman,”

Roma explains in a voice suddenly very soft. “You see, when I was a young girl, I lived near a concentration camp. There was a boy there, a prisoner, and for a long while, I used to visit him every day. I remember I used to bring him apples. I would throw the apple over the fence, and he would be so happy.”

Roma sighs heavily and continues. “It is hard to describe how we felt about each other—after all, we were so young, and we only exchanged a few words when we could—but I can tell you, there was much love there. I assume he was killed like so many others. But I cannot bear to think that, and so I try to remember him as he was for those months we were given together.”

With my heart pounding so hard I think it will explode, I look directly at Roma and ask, “And did that boy say to you one day, ‘Do not bring me an apple tomorrow. I am being sent to another camp’?” “Why, yes,” Roma responds, her voice trembling. “But Herman, how on earth could you possibly know that?” I take her hands in mine and answer, “Because I was that young boy, Roma.” For many moments, there is only silence. We cannot take our eyes from each other as we recognize the soul behind the eyes, the dear friend we once loved so much, whom we have never stopped loving.

Finally, I speak: “Roma, I was separated from you once, and I don’t ever want to be separated from you again. Now I am free, and I want to be together with you forever. Dear, will you marry me?”

I see that same twinkle in her eye I used to see as Roma says, “Yes, I will marry you.” We embrace—the embrace we longed to share for so many months, but barbed wire came between us. Now, nothing ever will again.

Looking ahead…

This fictional story offers a powerful glimpse of hope in the midst of terror.

Can any of us live without hope? I think not. Without hope, we have no reason to get out of bed in the morning… no motivation to complete our daily tasks at work, home, church… no desire to take on the sometimes dizzying array of problems in our world. A life without hope is a life without meaning.

Yet as Christians, we always have hope. In Jesus Christ, we have a holy protector, friend, confidante, and guide. We have a reserved seat in heaven that promises unimaginable joy. This is what gives us the endurance, patience, and motivation to bring glory to our Creator during this imperfect existence. In the days ahead, we’ll talk more about how hope can strengthen our marriage.

John tells us, “Whoever believes in the Son has eternal life” (John 3:36). Can you imagine a greater source of hope?

– James C Dobson

From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James & Shirley Dobson

“May the God of hope fill you with joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13

As Christians who want to bring joy to our marriages, we might do well to remember the words of baseball great (and occasional comedian) Yogi Berra: “Ninety percent of the game is half mental.” We could say the same about life: It’s how we look at circumstances that makes all the difference. For Christians, it’s not just how we look at things; it’s at Whom we’re looking. “Rejoice in the Lord and be glad,” wrote David (Psalm 32:11). Paul gave the same advice to the Philippians. And the author of Hebrews wrote: “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross….” (Hebrews 12:2). Couples who keep Jesus Christ as Lord of their home seem to laugh more often and cultivate hope in their marriages more easily. Why? Because when Jesus carries the weight of your worries, your needs, and your future, lighthearted living is the natural result.

God gave us a sense of humor to help us stay “half mental” in our marriage, and surely He wants us to use and enjoy it!

Just between us…

• Do you think Jesus often laughed? Do you think we would laugh more if we trusted God more?
• What steps can we take to bring a lighthearted spirit into our home?
• How can we worship God by our attitudes about life’s little hassles?

Most amazing God, thank You for making humor possible in our world. Forgive us when selfishness, fear, or faithlessness rob us of laughter. Amen.

From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James & Shirley Dobson

“The cheerful heart has a continual feast.” Proverbs 15:15

For those dismal days when you’re in desperate need of a laugh, you might start a humor file filled with surefire tummy ticklers. Here are a few to get you started, all reported to be genuine entries from church bulletins:

—Ushers will eat latecomers.

—The third verse of “Blessed Assurance” will be sung without musical accomplishment.

—Tonight’s sermon: “What Is Hell?” Come early and listen to our choir practice.

—Barbara remains in the hospital. She is having trouble sleeping and requests tapes of Pastor Jack’s sermons.

—The choir will meet at the Larsen house for fun and sinning.

—The sermon this morning: “Jesus Walks on Water.” The sermon tonight: “Searching for Jesus.”

—Next Thursday will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.

—The cost for attending the Fasting Prayer conference includes meals.

—Ladies, don’t forget the rummage sale. It is a good chance to get rid of things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands!

Just between us…

• What is your favorite joke or funny family story?
• Would those with whom we share Jesus Christ describe us as good‐humored or somber?
• How would our children describe us?
• Is there a lot of laughter in our home?

Heavenly Father, we know that a cheerful heart is a blessing to ourselves and others and a response of genuine trust in You. We ask that Your joy bubble up in our daily lives. Amen.

From Night Light For Couples, by Dr. James & Shirley Dobson