It was one of those bleak and dangerous early-January days to be driving when we took Liva’s mom back to her home in Paden City, West Virginia, after the Christmas-New Year’s holidays. Although it had snowed pretty good the previous couple of days, the roads seemed passable, and Mom really wanted to go home. So, we loaded up and headed out for a four-hour journey over the mountains. The drive from the D.C. area going north on I-270 was normal. The roads were fine and traffic was moving nicely. However, as we approached Fredrick, Maryland, to get onto I-70, it began to slow as patches of ice became more visible. As we entered a large curve that led uphill to a bridge, which would put us on I-70W for our journey westward, conditions had deteriorated considerably. Just as I drove onto the bridge, I noticed it was shiny and slick with ice, and instantly, we started spinning uncontrollably in circles from one lane to the next. Liva quickly started praying aloud for safety. This occurred in the early 2000s, and I can still vividly recall it in my mind: the car spinning out of control and Liva praying continuously. As we came off the bridge, the spinning stopped, and we began to skid sideways, with Liva still praying as we headed toward the guardrail on the left side. Bracing for impact, it was only a small jolt into the snow that had been pushed against the railing.
There we were, facing backwards towards the bridge we had just pirouetted through. The oncoming traffic was heavy, and I immediately envisioned a semi or another vehicle losing control and crashing into us head-on. Fortunately, while Liva was still praying, I was able to get some traction to turn the car around and escape harm’s way. We decided it was best to take the first exit off the interstate and head back home to Fairfax, VA. We were definitely grateful to be safe and relieved that there was no damage to our car. I can’t remember Liva saying a prayer of thanks, but I am sure she did. I have heard her say so many of those grateful prayers over the past sixty years. A few days later, we were able to take Mom home on a much more uneventful trip, thank God. David’s words (Psalm 18:2 ESV) always apply in times of trouble, as they did for us on this occasion: “The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety.”
“Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.”
MATTHEW 7:24-25 (NIV)
On November 5, Liva and I were blessed beyond measure to celebrate our sixtieth wedding anniversary. For lunch, we drove to Bridgeport to one of our favorite restaurants, Oliverio’s. We could have gone out for dinner, but at our age, driving home in the dark holds no appeal for us. Oh my, how things have changed over the years! We were married at 5:00 p.m. on November 5, 1965, in Paden City. In those days, we never blinked an eye at leaving there at 7:00 p.m. for Blackwater Falls State Park on our honeymoon. Those were the days of no interstates, few four lanes, and much narrower roads, often with no berms. It did not matter, though, as we were fearless in our youth. When Liva mentioned to the hostess at Oliverio’s about this being our “60th,” she remarked, “We don’t see many of those.” That was another reminder of how very blessed we are to still be together and to be able to celebrate the occasion in the way we chose.
Over the past few weeks, Liva and I have naturally reminisced about our years together and the many blessings that have been poured out on us. We owe everything to God, to His grace and mercy. I have given considerable thought to our journey together, trying to understand how we survived all the trials and tribulations we faced along the way and how we enjoyed all the blessings that we experienced. Every time I think about how that came about, I come to the same conclusion. It is something my father-in-law said to me when I asked him if I could marry his only child, whom he loved more than anything in this world. I don’t think that was a happy day for him, as I am sure he thought Liva could have done much better. To my relief, he did not say no. The thing he did say, and at the time, I did not have a clue what he meant, he wanted me to know that Liva “belonged to the Lord.” Those are the only words I remember him saying in our conversation. Although it was not the most pleasant of talks, I was happy that he trusted Liva to make the right decision. Sadly, he would only live for five years after we were married, as did my precious mum. In those five years, we came to respect one another, and I am sure he knew that we would be fine because Liva “belonged to the Lord.”
Looking back, I can understand my father-in-law’s concern. Entering the workforce as a teenager, first as a railroad engineer and then later as a heavy construction crane operator, he helped shape the American landscape from the 1920s into the 1950s. Tink, as he was known, was an 80-ton derrick crane operator and laid the steel for many of the bridges across the major rivers throughout America. His work was not for the faint of heart, often solitary, high up on steel girders, precariously operating his crane across the structure being built. It was a dangerous and lonely job, with long hours. I always marveled at the old photos of various work sites of his, especially of The Horseshoe, The Ohio State Football Stadium, which was completed in 1922. Like old soldiers, he didn’t talk much about what he had done. I now wish I had taken the opportunity to learn more about his experiences living across this great land he helped shape. When he passed away in 1970, and years later, when Liva and I were clearing out his garage, we found so many artifacts that must have had incredible stories behind them. He was what we call today a pack rat; he threw nothing away. But he wasn’t a hoarder; he was a survivor of the Depression, a time when you threw nothing away. There would always be a use for what you kept, and he kept it all, organized and neatly stored away. When he needed a new garden tool, there were no Home Depots or Lowe’s, where you could quickly go, slap down a credit card, and be off with something shiny new. Instead, he would go to his garage, find the parts or facsimile, and put them together. Oh, if only we had cell phones so we could have taken photos of all that stuff we either sold or threw away. In many ways, it shames you in how wasteful we are today. I still have a couple of his old handmade contraptions that I use in my garden.
Looking back at his life, it is not the interesting work life he lived, which is fascinating in and of itself, but the faithful life he lived that I now admire most about him. Born in Tyler County, Paden City (Wetzel County) became his home. He probably lived away for 330 days a year, but Paden City was his epicenter. It became his solid rock foundation, where his mother, father, and younger sister lived, and where his home church was located. Tink was the man of the house and the provider. He would get home as much as he could. However, in those days, you didn’t miss work. He was employed continually, going wherever there was something difficult that needed to be constructed, even during World War II, when he worked as a shipbuilder. We have a company newspaper with an article about how he became the record riveter for the number of rivets he could set per day.
Although he did everything to the fullest, again, it was his faith that stood out to me the most. I once heard it said, “Can people see God’s word active in your life?” That statement is one of the most impactful takeaways that I have encountered in my journey. When I look at Tink’s work life, it’s remarkable to consider the amazing impression he must have made on the thousands of people he came across on his journey. Jesus Christ was his bedrock, home or away, and Jesus was visible in Tink’s life. Liva found a few journals, not fancy, just written on spiral notebooks. Remember, he wasn’t about anything fancy, and a notebook would be good enough for him. He also kept track of his expenses. I was blown away to see how much he tithed monthly, wherever he worked, in addition to always sending money home to his family and home church. There were also entries of money given to a pastor, wherever he was, or to someone who must have needed help. Sometime in the 1930s or 1940s, when his home church was experiencing financial difficulties, he personally took care of the need and paid off the mortgage. To him, church life meant attending church twice on Sundays, midweek services, revivals, summer camp meetings, and helping neighbors in need. His Bibles also told the story of his journey of faith through the notes he had taken from sermons he had heard in the various locations where he resided.
He was truly like that wise man in my opening Scripture; he built his house on the firmest of foundations, Jesus Christ. On one of his visits home, he met a young lady, Opal Jones, who had a beautiful singing voice. She not only sang in his home church choir but also with a gospel group that performed on the radio on Saturday mornings. They married in 1940 and began a life on the road, wherever his work took him. In October 1944, Liva was born. Recognizing that life on the road was not the right environment for bringing up their daughter, he took Opal and Liva back to his homeplace, where he continued to work away for the next fifteen years or so. How difficult that must have been to be away from your family so much. But he knew Liva needed a stable home life. He made the right decision. Liva, who grew up in the church with her mom being a Sunday School teacher, stayed in close contact with her dad through letters. Getting a letter from Daddy was something she cherished. Eventually, her dad would retire and come home for good. That was one of the best days of each of their lives.
How he must have enjoyed being home every day with Liva and her mom. Liva did as she and her daddy were best friends. Then that fateful day arrived, the day most fathers rue when some young man comes along asking for her hand in marriage. I now get the reluctance; here’s someone who definitely doesn’t seem worthy of his little girl. In his travels, he had seen all types, and I didn’t fit his version of a good Christian young man. He was right, while a good Episcopalian who knew about Jesus, I didn’t know Him, and it would take about 45 years for me to do so. I definitely was worldly and loved most things about it, especially having a good time. While I occasionally attended church, golfing on Sundays was always my first choice. That was a concern that led my in-laws to once say to Liva’s aunt, “Don’t let Alan build a golf course on our family farm after we are gone.”
But, as I said earlier, reluctantly, they trusted Liva’s decision to marry me, and here we are sixty years later, still going strong. I think one of the things that would have surprised my father-in-law, had he lived, was how close Liva’s mom and I would become; Liva has always said, “I think mom always liked you better than me.” Probably not, more so, I think, I was the son she never had. The thing I am most grateful for, even more so than our friendship, is that Mom prayed for me every day. I firmly believe her prayers played a pivotal role that eventually led me also to ‘belong to the Lord.’ Her love and Christian example taught me to never stop praying for those you love to come to know the Lord. I prayed for an alcoholic brother for forty years, who eventually was saved a couple of weeks before he passed away. Without her example, I would have given up decades before.
Solid Ground
I didn’t realize I had hit the lottery back on November 5, 1965. I knew I was the luckiest guy in the world to have found someone as beautiful on the inside as on the outside, who loves me unconditionally. It would be years later before I realized that her inner beauty came from her strong faith. While I loved her with all my being, I did have difficulty with some of this ‘belonging to the Lord’ stuff. Right off the bat, I struggled with regular church attendance. Prior to getting married, I had convinced myself that occasional attendance was acceptable, as there were so many other things to do, especially golf and fishing. However, I reluctantly and slowly fell in line to keep the peace between us. Aside from being present in church and being visible, I did not gain much from attending church. Why? Because I rarely listened. For years, that was not me.
Then there was the tithing thing. I was always good for a dollar or two, and I felt okay with that. I quickly learned, not Liva. In her world, you paid God first, starting at ten percent. I thought, “You have got to be kidding me.” She wasn’t, and I had difficulty with that for a long time. Fast forward to the mid-1990s, when I had retired from the Air Force and began working for a large company in the Washington, D.C. area. One winter before Christmas, my boss came into my office and gave me a nice check. It stunned me for a minute. I asked in some fashion, why the check? He replied that it was a Christmas bonus. That was new to me, as I never received a bonus in the Air Force; a medal, maybe, but not money. I immediately began to think, um, maybe some new golf clubs, an Alaskan fishing trip, or something similar. I was so excited when I got home, as was Liva, and then I heard those dreaded words “ten percent” again. No matter what the protests I made, like this isn’t income, she reminded me that “I think we’ve had this conversation before.” It would be another fifteen years before I realized that she was right all along. I now understand that our faithfulness in tithing has been rewarded more than we could have ever hoped.
Liva will be the first to tell you she isn’t a saint. I was saved thirteen years ago, and I don’t consider myself a saint either. We are still both ‘works in progress.’ Hearkening back to my opening scripture, Matthew 7:24-25, Liva understood long before me about the importance of listening to Jesus’ words and putting them into practice. Throughout our marriage and still today, she reads her devotionals faithfully, plays worship music as she works around the house, quietly helps her friends deal with storms of life, and so much more. It was her wisdom that built our foundation on solid rock while I spent too much time trying to maneuver around the shifting sand of a worldly life. But I am blessed and relieved to now say unequivocally, I too stand on that firm foundation and as one who also ‘belongs to the Lord.’
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NIV)
In the past, I have often wondered why it took me so long to get saved. It seemed to me that I could have done so much more for God years earlier. Isn’t that pure, egotistical worldly thinking, always framing things around my own perspective? Then it dawned on me, while God may have wanted me, He didn’t need me in the slightest. Fortunately for me, He listened to my mother-in-law and all those who prayed for me over the years. He patiently waited until my season arrived. I am so eternally grateful that He was still willing to adopt me when I finally realized it was I who needed Him. I love the great pastor A. W. Tozer’s quote and believe it is so true: “God never hurries. There are no deadlines against which He must work. Only to know this is to quiet our spirits and relax our nerves.” I am forever thankful that He was willing to wait until I was ready to accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior. Although I still live in a broken world, I find tremendous joy, contentment, and hope for the season He has placed me in.
“Don’t just listen to God’s word. You must do what it says. Otherwise, you are fooling yourselves. For if you listen to the word and don’t obey, it is like glancing at your face in a mirror. You see yourself, walk away, and forget what you look like…and if you do what it says and don’t forget what you heard, then God will bless you for doing it.” James 1:22-25 (NLT)
As I mentioned earlier, I hit the lottery on November 5, 1965. It was because Liva belonged to the Lord. I respected and loved her so much that we were able to build our houses (we have lived in 13 different homes in many different locations across the U.S.) on solid rock, specifically Jesus Christ. Yes, it took me a while to get it, but when I did, I got it, thanks to the Holy Spirit. Jesus is my bedrock now, and it is upon His word that I try to build my life. We all have a choice: we can build on a broken, selfish worldview or the firm foundation of Jesus, as laid out in His Word. Listen to Him when He says, “Everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is wise.” Plus, if you heed Him, others will be able to see God’s word in your life. The key is to listen to and obey Jesus and His Apostles’ teachings. When the storms come, and they will, you will be prepared and be able to overcome them, just as Jesus promised! He has for Liva and me so many times throughout our marriage, whether it was serious medical illnesses, stressful job challenges, difficult life decisions, or just fervently praying while our vehicle was spinning out of control on an icy bridge with major truck traffic all around. We will continue to put our trust in Jesus and filter our lives through His Word. Thankfully–no thanks to me–He was there for us since we both said, “I do.” Now, we both firmly stand on solid ground, and we wouldn’t want it any other way!
“No matter what the storms of life, Jesus has been there protecting us, just as he did on that bridge in the early 2000s.”
~Al Tucker
If you, too, would like to be able to say, “I belong to the Lord,” pray the following: Father God, you know my heart and that I have not sought to live my life on Jesus’ firm foundation. I believe your Son Jesus Christ died on the cross for the forgiveness of my sins, and he was raised on the third day to give me everlasting life. Thank you, Jesus, and please send your Holy Spirit to guide my journey with you. Amen. Do that with haste and then find a Christian friend or a pastor to ask for their help so you can begin your personal walk with Him. If you do that with a willing heart, you will embark on the most amazing journey you can ever imagine. Jesus always means what He says and always keeps His promises. Rest assured, He will send His Holy Spirit to help you know that you belong to Him, just as He did for me. I pray that blessing for you.
Until next time, Godspeed. Al
Feature Images: main feature, Bear Rocks at Dolly Sods, Tucker County, © Al Tucker; Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.; The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.; The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.; Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
