One Saturday morning our multi-band kitchen radio was tuned to the local airport control tower. That day, the tower operator was grouchy and short-tempered. He snapped at one hapless student pilot, "It sure took you a long time to make that approach!"

A short pause. The would-be flyer replied politely, "Well-------it takes time to learn these complicated things."

The controller would have none of it. Sarcastically, he shot back: "Like how to make a left turn?"

A long pause. Finally the fledgling pilot spoke: "Nooooooo--------like how to stay right side up!"

Is "staying right side up" in your family life difficult? You’re not alone!

A sales trainer once told me, "Selling is simple. But it’s not easy. It’s hard!" Loving our families is that way. The principles may seem simple. Applying them isn’t!

The nearest person I ever had to a sister was a cousin with whom I fought constantly! I loved Pat, never understood why we argued, and always resolved to act better next time. But each visit set off a new round of battles. Then, a few months before her college graduation, she was murdered by a paroled convict. We never learned whether we could have resolved our differences as adults.

Am I a family-relations expert? No. This chapter simply shares experiences my family’s found helpful.

Do you treat your family as you’d treat Jesus?

The airport limousine was late reaching the Hotel Vancouver in Vancouver, British Columbia, where our Pacific Northwest Library Association conference had just ended. Finally a taxi offered five of us a ride for less money each than the limo would have cost. Gratefully, we piled in.

On the way to the airport, the man beside me chatted with each of us. Learning I was a librarian, he asked if I’d heard of the book Reality Therapy, then a best-seller. I told him "yes." He replied, "I wrote it." He was Dr. William ("Bill") Glasser, heading home to California from lectures in Canada. We were on the same flight to Seattle, so we continued our talk in the airport and on the plane.

Bill told me the heart of Reality Therapy was that everyone has two needs: to love and be loved, and to feel self-worth. Those needs are fulfilled when we treat our families as we’d treat Jesus.

"When you did it to these my brothers you were doing it to me!" (Matthew 25:40). That means the way we treat our wife, husband, father, mother, brother, or sister is the way we treat Jesus!

Do you have a bratty brother? A snotty sister? Super-strict parents? Rebellious kids? Fault-finding in-laws? Is it impossible to love them? The Bible tells us to act with love, whether we feel it or not!

"Love my dumb brother? No way! He isn’t anything like Jesus!"

Well, Jesus loves him anyway! Jesus died for him. And Jesus still tells us that the way we love that brother is the way we love him!

Do you yell at your family? You’re yelling at Jesus. Do you beat your wife or kids? You’re beating Jesus. Are you patient with them? You’re patient with Jesus. Do you hug them? You’re hugging Jesus.

The simple sketches in a former Los Angeles Times cartoon series, "Love Is," showed ways a husband and wife loved each other:

"Love is letting her have the last of the suntan oil."

"Love is starting her car on below-zero mornings."

"Love is taking turns with the midnight feeding."

"Love is cleaning the fish he caught."

Notice the themes? Thoughtfulness. Selflessness. Patience. Caring. And more.

"To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides." (David Viscott)

It’s natural to "take." But when we mature we learn to give. That simple difference can make a marriage work – if both parties are givers.

A young woman we knew was pregnant with her fifth child. She collapsed at work one winter day with severe chest pain, difficulty breathing, and a 103-degree temperature. The hospital diagnosed pneumonia.

Her boyfriend didn’t care. He was furious because she hadn’t done the housework, pneumonia or not! When she came home from the hospital all her belongings, and her children’s, were outside in the snow. He’d kicked them out!

Was that "man" a giver? Hardly. He was a taker. He hadn’t learned Matthew 20:26-28: "Anyone wanting to be a leader among you must be your servant. And if you want to be right at the top, you must serve like a slave ... I, the Messiah, did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give my life as a ransom for many’" (Also see Matt. 23:11; Luke 22:26; and Mal. 2:16).

Any good partnership has two strong partners.

Men, God may have made you the "senior partner," but she is your partner, not your servant. You can’t be "master and slave" and still be "one body." And you’re responsible for helping her develop the gifts and talents God’s given her. In the judgment, how you’ve treated her will be the way you’ve treated Jesus!

Matt. 19:30; 20:16; Mark 10:31; and Luke 13:30 all teach that "many who are first now will be last then; and some who are last now will be first then." I can’t help wonder if one meaning of those Scriptures isn’t that, if you make your wife your slave in this life, in eternity you’ll be hers!

Luke 6:31 sums it up: "Treat others as you want them to treat you."

Jesus was a giver. He gave his life for us, by his free choice. He gave out of strength, not weakness. When husbands and wives give to each other, by their free choice and out of strength, their relationship has an excellent foundation.

More Scriptures: Prov.31:10-11; 31:15-21; 31:26-29; Mark 9:35; 10:43-45.

God loves us even though he knows every one of our faults and limitations. Do we do the same? Or do we try to force-fit our partners into preconceived molds?

When Yvonne and I married, I assumed she’d do most of our shopping. But her sinuses were so infected that she couldn’t drive safely. Even one "glob" of drainage going down her throat could cause her to pass out at the wheel. Not good! Finally, I accepted the fact that I’d shop and run most errands. That wasn’t easy. My day was already full. It took adjustments. But I loved her. I did it. It was worth it.

"Dwell on the fine, good things in others" (Phil. 4:8).

Do you consider each others’ needs?

"Yvonne, you’re 27. Do you want to live to be 30?" her doctor bluntly asked her.

She had severe chronic bronchitis, progressing into emphysema. Her lungs were scarred. She had toxic sinus infections, worsened by Chicago’s cold, damp winter weather and pollution. To even live to 30 she’d have to move to a much warmer climate.

Stunned, Yvonne went to the landing leading to the basement of her grandmother’s home. There she prayed, "God, if you’ll help me climb this mountain, I’ll be your servant for the rest of my life!"

That fall she moved from Chicago to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, and joined the young adult group at Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church. Six months later we met. In another three, we were married.

She was still far from well. If she so much as laughed or climbed a flight of stairs she’d have to stop and gasp for breath.

But she wanted children. So, a year after our marriage, she was three months pregnant with our daughter, Yvette. But as the pregnancy progressed she began to have trouble breathing in the dense, humid South Florida air.

That wasn’t good, especially since aids like portable oxygen bottles weren’t yet available. I might have just promised "We’ll do the best we can." But, instead, I said, "I’ve lived in San Diego. The air there is drier and easier to breathe. Why don’t we see if it’d help you?"

So we moved, all the way across the country. It was a challenging step of faith. We had little money, and no job waiting. But that choice profoundly affected our futures for the good.

That began unexpectedly very early one morning, in our small San Diego beach cottage, when Yvonne had an experience none of the rest us have ever had. (Nor have I ever met anyone who has.) That morning, like Samuel (1 Samuel 3:1-18), she audibly heard God’s voice.

I’d taken my two older boys fishing at the nearby pier. At about 5:30 Yvonne was in the shower, alone in the house, when a voice called "Daughter!"

She thought, "Wait a minute! Who’s that? No one’s here!" Then, very tentatively, she called "Lord? Is that you?"

The voice replied, "Yes!" It continued:"Daughter, I don’t want you and Pete to buy any furniture. Build it all. Tell Pete to bring home all the "burn" wood he can from the construction site where he’s working."

(Yvonne, who’s nothing if not outspoken): "Lord, are you crazy? How am I supposed to do that? I don’t know anything about building furniture!"

(God, patiently): "Get a book. But remember, don’t buy anything! Build it all."

We were awed but puzzled. Why would God choose such an extraordinary way to give us such ordinary directions? We didn’t know, but we obeyed. We began making the furniture, using a few simple, unpowered hand tools and pieces of scrap wood never more than 4 feet long. While I was at work, Yvonne cleaned the dirty wood with a tiny hand sanding block. Sawdust filled the air in our small garage and made her sneeze.

That was the turning point for her lungs.

Drainage from Yvonne’s chronically infected sinuses had caused most of her lung problems. But now, as the sawdust made her sneeze, those toxic sinuses drained out of her nose, not into her lungs. And her lungs began to heal!

We realized it slowly. I loved to tease Yvonne and make her angry enough to chase me. I did so one night while we were walking, and began running to keep away from her pinching fingers. Four blocks later, still jogging, realization struck me.

Yvonne couldn’t run four blocks! She couldn’t even laugh without gasping for breath!

But she had run four blocks, and wasn’t even puffing badly!

Since then, she’s never had any breathing problems.

And that move to San Diego brought us a long series of other blessings. They began when I was hired by Computer Sciences Corporation as a senior technical librarian, and later transferred to Kennedy Space Center. (By that time Yvonne had no problems in Florida’s air.) Later I worked as a "master planner" on what was meant to be a West Coast Space Shuttle launch site at Vandenberg Air Force Base. I even got to drive the astronaut van, though minus astronauts, in a parade.

In all I met some 80 astronauts, including five of the original Mercury Seven, one to two men who’d walked on the moon in every lunar mission, two of Apollo 13’s three crew members, every flight crew member on the first eight Space Shuttle missions, and at least one from all of the first 25. My family met most of them too.

Still later, back in Florida, I helped plan advanced night vision and radar programs.

Our hand-made furniture grew to fill a three-bedroom house, and gave us the collateral to clinch approval of the loan for our first home.

And Yvonne has more than doubled the life span her doctor predicted for her.

I never dreamed of asking for those blessings, but God gave them all to us – thanks to one step of love and faith taken to care for my wife’s needs.

"Don’t think only of yourself. Try to think of the other fellow, too, and what is best for him" (1 Cor. 10:24).

Joseph even considered Mary’s feelings and reputation when he believed she’d been unfaithful:

Also read: Prov. 13:10; Col. 3:12; James 3:17.

Do you live the "fruit of the Spirit?"

Paul tells us our human nature fights against God. Galatians 5:16-26 describes the "works of the flesh," including:

• Impure thoughts
• Eagerness for lustful pleasure
• Hatred, fighting, jealousy, anger
• Always trying to get the best for ourselves
• Complaints and criticisms
• Envy
• Drunkenness and wild parties

Lying is destructive too. (Some verses: Ex. 20:16; Ps. 34:12-13; Prov. 30:8; Col. 3:9.)

In contrast, Paul lists the results of asking the Holy Spirit to live in us daily:

• Love, joy, and peace

• Patience
• Kindness
• Goodness and faithfulness
• Gentleness and self-control

Which group creates better marriages?

A door-to-door sales job taught me to watch for something I honestly liked about each home I approached, then praise the owner for it. Those compliments opened many doors! And sincere compliments do not just win sales! They make friends and encourage "neighbors." That’s one way to love them.

Yvonne and I met when my new roommate, Charles, invited her and a friend to a spaghetti dinner. Charles was legally blind, yet a highly gifted painter, photographer, and radio announcer. During the meal Yvonne’s date began criticizing him. Yvonne cut ‘Drew’ off, took Charles aside, and began telling him all his good qualities. I thought "that’s someone worth knowing better!" So, the next week, I called her at work (despite the phone seeming to weigh 500 pounds). And, yes, she was well worth knowing better!

Yvonne and I try to communicate openly and frankly. We talk over both sides of each issue. We respect each other and listen to each other’s thoughts. We always learn. And we usually reach agreement.

Do you make time for your family?

"Your children need your presence more than your presents" - Jesse Jackson.

Our family life’s been enriched by that bit of wisdom.

When Bill and Yvette were very young, our television wore out. Instead of buying another, Yvonne gave the kids her time. Together, they read books, listened to tapes, played games, did crafts, and built furniture. By the time we got another TV, the years of "togetherness" had formed our kids’ characters – and done it well.

We also held simple family devotions. We’d read one chapter from the Bible; talk, and pray. Those devotions helped us appreciate God, the Bible, and each other. They helped us weather many storms that could have "shipwrecked" us.

Even today, when Yvette and Bill are grown and have their own devotions, we still take time to pray as a family every day. It makes things go better.

We’ve met families who hold devotions in unique, beautiful ways. Once Yvette and I were stranded with car trouble fifteen miles from the nearest phone. We were rescued by a Christian couple whose habit was to drive to some beautiful, peaceful spot out in the country, read their Bibles, and pray amidst God’s creation. That day they chose Firehole Canyon, found us, and became our "ministering angels" by driving us home.

My job at Vandenberg AFB began with 12-hour days. The grueling schedule soon wore me down. Worse, I left for work before my family was awake, and often came home after they’d gone to bed.

"We need family time, and I need exercise," I said. "Let’s try to walk together out in the country for a few hours each weekend."

We did. It worked. Visits to the library told us what we were seeing. We learned about Spanish land grants, ranchos, missions, plants, animals, and even barbecues. We began to collect agates, jaspers, and quartz crystals, and make simple jewelry. Our family life took on new freshness.

Do you practice being sensitive?

Sensitivity, to family members and to God, can pay rich dividends.

"Be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other. . .Try always to be led along together by the Holy Spirit and so be at peace with one another" (Eph. 4:2-3).

How can we be sensitive to each other? "Listen" to expressions, body language, and feelings. Put aside pride, jealousy, anger, and criticism (Gal. 5:16-26).

To God? Search his Word. Ask him to speak in his "still, small voice." Listen quietly, carefully and patiently. Often he simply answers with ideas or impressions. They may come immediately, overnight, or much later.

Learn to judge whether the replies are his voice or yours. Pride, anger, or jealousy are just us. His voice reflects love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. It never disagrees with Scripture.

Practicing sensitivity to God changed me. I’d always prayed for him to bless my plans. Then I noticed John 12:26, "For my servants must be where I am." Was I God’s servant? Then shouldn’t I ask what he wanted done, and ask him to bless that?

Is it easy? No, it often takes great strength. Albert Schweitzer said, "The most difficult thing I have ever had to do is follow the guidance I prayed for."

It was an Episcopalian priest who first urged me to be sensitive to God’s Spirit and listen for his leading. I tried it, on a small scale, as I left that chapel. Sensing a quiet prompting to walk back to work a different way (was it just my imagination?), I did, and ran directly into a student who was looking for me with a message!

But I was used to following my logic, not my spirit. At times God had to "hit me over the head" to remind me to practice Father Bennett’s advice. He did so one day as I started home from downtown Seattle to suburban Kirkland.

I was headed for the right turn that led to the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge before the I-5 freeway was finished. Several blocks before I got there, that "still, small voice" unexpectedly said "turn right, right here!" Instead of obeying, I asked God "Why?" By then I was in the middle of the intersection, and it was too late. So I continued as I’d planned.

I reached my turn. The street was closed for construction! I had to go back and turn at the exact street where I’d heard that "still, small voice!"

I learned. Well, to be honest, I’m still working on it. But I see hints of progress. Several times now my kids have asked me "Who are you, and what have you done with our father?"

My wife and youngest daughter have been much more sensitive. When we moved into each of our Rock Springs homes, we invited God to show us how he wanted that place to look. Yvonne and Yvette then tried to be sensitive to God’s quiet impressions. Both places steadily grew to reflect God’s beauty. Large hand-made flower arrangements gave color, warmth, joy, and peace. Glass and crystal added light and sparkle.

It’s still hard for me to be as sensitive as they are. I’ve only been successful once in my life – the most painful one, right after my first marriage ended. I still don’t understand why. But I was emotionally numb. I operated by feeling more than reason.

We’d lived at the base of a low mountain in El Cajon, densely covered with tall chaparral brush. I stayed there briefly after the divorce. At night, to cope with the hurt, I’d walk through the brush and up the ridge. I carried a flashlight, but rarely turned it on. I could see nothing, but somehow "sensed" where openings and trails would be. It was as if I’d become part of the mountain. Dangerous? Yes, yet amazingly, always successful.

One night I was walking back down the gently sloping ridge-crest trail. A faint glow from the city lights below silhouetted the clumps of tall brush, making it even more impossible to see anything within them.

Suddenly I sensed – clearly - that I should point the flashlight straight ahead and turn it on. There seemed to be no reason why. I’d seen nothing; heard nothing.

But that time I obeyed.

The light showed I was standing at the upper edge of a small clearing in the chaparral, perhaps twenty feet across. The trail led across it, then entered more heavy brush on the other side.

And there, just emerging from that lower brush, walking up the trail straight toward me, was an small, innocent-looking animal with a very surprised expression on its face. A black animal with a broad white stripe down its back and tail.

We came within a very few steps of an unforgettable meeting.

Sensitivity to others and to God will change your life. In good ways.

One summer, while Yvonne and I lived near San Diego, I often drove the 2½ hours to UCLA for budget-priced work on my teeth.

Starting home one afternoon, I realized that the next day was our anniversary, and I hadn’t bought Yvonne a present! Whoops! Where’s the nearest mall? I exited at the sprawling South Coast Plaza. Now, what store out of the hundreds here? Too many choices! Finally I picked JC Penney’s.

Even then, the store was huge. What to get? Like occasional other husbands, I had no idea. The perfume counter caught my eye, but once there I was still clueless. Trying to be helpful, the clerk sprayed some fragrances on my wrists. All were nice, but none gave me any idea what Yvonne would like. Finally I remembered one of her favorites and bought a bottle. Mission acccomplished – I thought!

At home, I pulled into the parking lot. Yvonne came downstairs to meet me. She bent to kiss me through the open car window. Then suddenly I heard:

Sniff.

Sniff.

Sniff.

SNIFF! SNIFF! SNIFF!

"WHERE have you BEEN?" she demanded.

I’d never once thought about how long those sample scents might last! Needless to say, she got her present then and there!

Do you love, yet make hard choices?

My divorce profoundly affected my four older children. Expecting it would, I’d stalled for years, hoping things would improve. They never did. And when the split finally happened, the effects were even worse than I’d feared.

One of my sons was especially strong willed. He and I had many battles of which I’ve long been ashamed. With the wisdom of hindsight, I wish I’d dropped all those fights and simply given him a big hug!

After the divorce, he and his mother had increasing conflicts. Four years later she asked if Yvonne and I would take him. We did. He came, but unhappily. He refused any help we tried to give. We clashed constantly.

Yvonne was five months pregnant. The discord began causing labor pains. Both her doctor and a counselor told me forcefully that I had to end the problems, even if it meant moving my older son out of our home. If not, the counselor said, God would hold me responsible as the baby’s murderer! I knew I had to act. Yet I loved all of them: my wife, my son, and the unborn baby!

Our boss had already offered to let my son live with him at the construction site where we worked. Now I accepted. But the "clang" of the site’s metal gate closing behind him that night pierced me more sharply than any pain ever had!

I’ve only seen him a few times since. We’re far from reconciled. I wish that was different. Yet every time I see my daughter, born healthy except for lack of depth perception, I’m reminded that that supremely difficult choice was the right one.

During a sermon on the family, my pastor encouraged husbands and wives to show each other affection in front of the children.

Few, if any, Scriptures illustrate that point. So he read Gen. 26:6-11, where Isaac and Rebekah were guests of the Philistine king Abimelech. Rebekah was so beautiful that Isaac was afraid someone would kill him to get her, so they claimed she was his sister. It worked - until they showed each other affection!

The pastor read from the King James Version: "King Abimelech looked out his window and saw Isaac sporting with Rebekah."

A more modern version explained: "King Abimelech saw Isaac fondling Rebekah."

Another stated "King Abimelech saw Isaac petting Rebekah."

In the Living Bible, Abimelech "saw Isaac and Rebekah making love."

The minister paused, leaned forward, grinned at his highly conservative audience, and asked:

"Now, how many of you want to know what the Amplified Bible says?"

Showing affection is natural for some of us. Not for all. For me, overcoming shyness took many years of hard, determined work. And I’m not fully there yet.

Why? Partly my environment. I was an only child. My mother died when I was two months old, and her parents raised me. They loved each other deeply, but rarely showed it around others. In the 19 years I lived there, I saw them kiss exactly once!

But mostly? Heredity. My father and I were identically shy. And his grandfather, a Mormon polygamist, was too bashful to even ask his first bride-to-be for a date. Instead, his parents asked her parents to propose for him. (She accepted.) Later, when he decided that two wives were better than one, he was still too shy to propose. Can you guess what he did? Yes! He asked his first wife to do it for him! Unbelievably (to me), both women agreed!

Do you laugh?

Humor shrinks problems and defuses tense situations. While building our furniture, Yvonne and I once varnished several pieces of wood we’d set on newspaper laid over our carpeted office floor. The nearly full can of varnish sat nearby on another paper. I finished, stood up, and stepped back - directly onto the can! It flipped, spilling most of the gallon of varnish our onto our carpet!

I braced myself for one of the most well-deserved chewing-outs of my life. But to my amazement, Yvonne began laughing; a doubled-over, side-holding, best-joke-in-the-world laugh! I still don’t know what was so funny! I certainly thought it was more disastrous than amusing, even after we’d poured "tons" of paint thinner onto the carpet trying to save it. But in that moment I knew what a gem I’d married!

Humor even exists in trivial incidents. Once, facing a two-hour drive from San Diego to a morning business meeting, I stopped at a 24-hour drive-in for a very early breakfast. I was the only customer, and the clerk was eager to talk. She told me her boyfriend, an Iranian pilot being trained by Pacific Southwest Airlines, was teaching her his language. I asked, "for instance?" She quoted several phrases, and I repeated them.

The meeting was dull. It needed livening. It didn’t seem that telling the group I’d had breakfast at Jack-in-the-Box would help. But perhaps if I reworded it, gave it more "class?" So I spoke up: "You know, at 5:30 this morning I was learning to say "I love you" in Persian, and the day hasn’t been the same since!"

Everyone woke up.

Many ministers I’ve met have had wonderful senses of humor. While we lived in Orlando, a new pastor moved from Atlanta with his family. A banana tree was growing just outside their rented home’s kitchen window. It blocked the sunlight, so his wife wanted him to cut it down. He disagreed. "That tree’s tropical, exotic, beautiful! Let’s enjoy it! Leave it there!"

But though banana trees grow close to full height in one season, they can’t tolerate cold at all. And one frosty winter morning, when the pastor entered the kitchen, bright sunlight was streaming through the window. "What happened to the banana tree?" he asked. He went outside. There was the tree, lying puddled on the ground, frozen and dead.

The pastor stared down at the withered foliage. He looked skyward. Then back down. Finally he looked heavenward again - and spoke:

"That’s right – side with the woman!"

While I worked at Northwest University near Seattle, friends gave us an old down comforter. After some thought, my first wife decided to remove the feathers, wash them, and use them in pillows. She stored the newly cleaned feathers in two large plastic bags in our living room.

Our fun-loving two-year-old daughter came in. Her eyes lit up. How exciting to jump on those bags!

Enter my wife, to find the room completely filled with tiny down feathers suspended in the air!

Though not happy, she responded creatively. She sucked the feathers out of the air with the vacuum cleaner wand, then put them back in the bags.

While she worked, our now-thirsty daughter went into the kitchen, found a glass, and got out the milk. Starting to pour was easy, even for two-year-old hands. Stopping wasn’t!

My wife finished the feathers, came into the kitchen, and found both the table and floor covered with milk!

Feeling just a little out of patience, she set to work cleaning that up!

Meantime, our daughter wandered back into the living room, found the newly rebagged feathers, and delightedly jumped on them again – with exactly identical results!

About then the telephone rang. It was the university president’s wife. "Put the kettle on, dear. I’m coming over!"

My wife, bless her heart, answered "You might as well. Everything else has gone wrong today!"