R A C H E L H A U C K . C O M

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Thanksgiving memory

The fall of '76, we lived in Homestead, Florida. My parents had a large home group and we all gathered for Thanksgiving, outside, in the side yard of our house. There had to be thirty of us with kids and all.

I remember it was a breezy day with thick blue clouds hovering over us. And it was the day our family friend, Bill Hamilton, who's son Joe I crushed on for awhile, decided to teach me to drive stick shift in an old Chevy truck.

In those days, most stores were closed for the holiday but Bill was sent off to find cans of cranberry or something. I'd love to reminisce this story with him, but he's with Jesus now.

He invited me along. It's great to remember I had older male roll models besides my dad who cared for me in a fatherly way. We drove around a very quiet Homestead, streets deserted, looking for an open store. I think we finally found a Jiffy or 7-11 type.

On the way home, he said, "Want to drive?"

I didn't have my license, but I think Bill figured the population was tucked away with their own Thanksgiving celebrations and safe from any possible terror I might inflict.

I'd never driven before, let alone an old truck with a stick shift - three on the tree mind you, not four on the floor. We sat at one stop light for twenty minutes until I figured out the difference between reverse and second gear.

We finally ambled on home and I was all the wiser for having taking my first driving lesson on Thanksgiving day.

I have many wonderful Thanksgiving memories. This one happens to stand out to me.

Hubby and I spent most of the '90s celebrating with his family, and seems this past decade is a mix of his side and my side, and a few at home with friends.

I'm thankful for Jesus. The One who was, who Is and is to Come.

What are you thankful for this season?

Labels: friends, learning to drive, memories, Thanksgiving

posted by Rachel Hauck @ 1:44 PM 3 comments

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

A man named Brett Bush

I was eighteen, out of high school having graduated six months early, and doing nothing much but working and hanging out. Riding horse.

(That confession rendered another hilarious Hubby-Rachel moment. A few weeks ago I said, "Yeah, I graduated, hung out, worked a lot, rode horses." "You rode horses." He arched one brow because he has that talent. "Yeah, couple of days a week." "Really? Cause I've ridden horses with you and--" "Oh stop." But I laughed!)

During those months, I worked at Publix and hung around with some fun north Florida rednecks. I met a guy named Brett Bush. He drove one of those itty-bitty Chevy Love trucks. Remember those? He'd been out of town for awhile, doing who-knows-what and where, but came home to find his girlfriend had moved on.

So, in effort to do the same, he asked me out. Okay. Not my type, but he was fun. He wanted to take me to his grandparents farm in Quincy or some place, so we're tooling along in his truck and he rants about his last encounter with his ex.

"So, I walk in and she say's nothing. Not so much as a by-your-leave or kiss my a$$."

His expression, inflection, hillbilly accent, phrasing had me laughing all the way to the farm. Then he decided to four-wheel it through a pond (no, Chevy Love trucks were not four wheel) and we sank, but that's another story.

Here's the thing about Brett Bush. Nearly 30 years after this afternoon together, and it was only an afternoon sans romantic feelings, his expressions show up in my writing.

I write, "without so much as" in each book. When I do, I think of Brett Bush.

A moment in my life, forever impressed on my soul.

How many people do we have like this touching us? Why do I remember a man's name I spent less than a few months socializing with, but can't remember a chum from college?

It's those impressions. Who have you and I impressed unaware? Is someone quoting me right now. Or reminiscing about Ohio State with, "Then Rachel Hayes said..."

We're paint brushes on the hearts and minds of everyone we come in contact with. Are we painting beauty or pain?

I want to be a Brett Bush to others. Lingering with them long after I've pass through their lives, leaving behind the fragrance of Jesus and the hope of His calling. If I reach some moderate success, I've honored Him who my soul loves.

Labels: Brett Bush, Chevy Love truck, fragrance of Jesus, impacting lives, memories, phrases, touching others

posted by Rachel Hauck @ 12:59 PM 4 comments

Friday, August 08, 2008

08.08.08

On 7.7.'77, I was sixteen, working at Publix in Cutler Ridge, FL.

One of the bag boys, Ronny Paul, said today is 7.7.'77 and noted how many years it would be before we had 8.8.'88, and 9.9.'99 and now it's 8.8.08.

What's in a number anyway?

Here's what I wrote in my diary on July 7, '77.

"Today is 7,7,'77 - cute uh? When I woke up I kind of felt the twangs of leaving but soon under control. Spent the day packing and etc. LR's car broke down at the house and Steve Emmens and friend came to tow it away. Work was OK. Blocked down most of the night. Not much else. Love, Rachel -n- Pete."

We were moving in a few weeks to Tallahassee from Homestead. It was a sad yet good thing in my life, the family's life. LR is my friend Lorena Rastrick Sikking. Pete was my boyfriend at the time.

Today my life is very different. I'm not sixteen, I'm not living with my parents or facing a major move. I don't have two years of high school left, nor the years ahead of college and training that comes with growing up and becoming an adult.

But I knew God had a plan for me. If anything in my life has ever been blessed, on the right track or redeemed, it's because God had a plan for me.

My life is charmed in many ways. We're not rich, nor famous (though I did meet a reader last night and she actually was awe-struck for about ten seconds. Even Tony and her granddaughter noticed.)

We have missed out on the blessing of children, but are so cocooned in the heart and will of God I literally have no complaints. I am as Paul admonishes, "content." Well, minus the political landscape of my country, and the cultural war, but that's for another time.

I'm writing on a really fabulous project with a co-author and it's going so great, so far. We had a call yesterday with Thomas Nelson and when I hung up, I just thought, "Thank you, Lord. You are too good to me. This is truly unmerited favor."

Tonight we have a wedding, two former youth marrying. It'll be fun and I'm really happy for them.

Well, off to work some before wedding festivities.

Labels: 7.7.77, 8.8.08, blessings, friends, memories, Weddings

posted by Rachel Hauck @ 12:26 PM 2 comments

Saturday, May 31, 2008

I crack myself up...

For reason I'll keep to myself, I'm reading my old diaries. I gotta tell you, if you're a teenager or have a teenager, please, keep a diary or tell them to keep a diary.

I love pulling out my diaries and reading them. I laugh out loud every other page. I kept them for seventeen years and after I got married, moved more to prayer and spiritual journaling. Although, my tossed up diary prayers like, "Oh, God, please let him ask me out," could be considered spiritual. A-hem.

This from April 13, '77.

"Oh, guess what? Partner (a nickname for a co-worker) told me Mr. Fisher (Publix manager, name changed to protect the innocent) is being transfered, even demoted! I 'bout died. There goes the ole ball game."

ROFLOL. What sixteen year old writes, "there goes the ole ball game." In 1977. Too, too funny. Okay, maybe you had to be there. Maybe you have to be me, but I think it's funny.

Labels: 1977, diaries, friends, laughing, memories, Publix

posted by Rachel Hauck @ 4:59 PM 2 comments

Monday, May 26, 2008

Memorial Day

I was probably six or seven years old when I became aware of the Vietnam war. We lived in Tulsa, Oklahoma and my dad attended ORU and worked part-time as a youth pastor.

The teens then - oh, they seemed so old and mature to me - wore aluminum wrist bands with the name of their friends or family fighting a million miles away in unknown jungles. Perhaps they wore the name of a soldier they'd never met.

We moved a year or so later to a small town outside of Tulsa, Haskell. There, one of the young women in our church lost her fiance in Nam.

I'm sad to say I don't remember much about it, but since then, war has always impacted me. Not like some. I'm proud of our men and women who've given their lives for my safety and freedom.

"They stand on the wall..."

A semi-history buff, I stayed awake nights as a young teen reading no-holds-barred WW 2 books. I can remember slamming one of the thick, academic books closed as I read of the Nazi concentration camps, and the experimental labs, the testing they did on live humans.

I felt sick. I felt fear. And since then, I've loved our military and those who fought so men like Adolph Hitler don't succeed.

The world is still full of tyrants, of evil, and it's naive to believe "good dialog" will simply do the trick.

We need our men and women in uniform. I'm proud of America's strength because it is the thing that keeps us free.

That and the grace of God.

Many years ago while working near DC, I visited the Vietnam Memorial War. Standing before those list of names, I wept. But I am oh so grateful.

Labels: history of WW 2, memories, proud of our military, Vietnam Memorial, war

posted by Rachel Hauck @ 10:48 PM 2 comments

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Ever have one of those days?

The kind where nothing is pressing? No worries. No deadline pressure. The house doesnt' need much tending, the kids are away. The laundry in the dryer can wait.

The sun is shining bright and warm. The dog is bathed and clean, and there are still three hours left in the afternoon.

In the distance is the sound of a mower, and if you close your eyes and breathe deep, you can smell the cuttings. Then conjure up a pleasant memory of your dad laboring behind the old red push mower, sweat dripping from his nose.

A day when there's not enough extra money to buy a new book or get a pedicure, but enough to buy a soda down at McDonalds. And that's all you need to feel like a million bucks.

A day when a simple drive along the beach, or country road would log it as one of the best days ever.

Ever have one of those days?

I am.

Labels: dads, Lazy days, memories

posted by Rachel Hauck @ 3:27 PM 2 comments