God's lovingkindness: Mrs. Marj Rodland
- Katie Bianchini
- Jan 23, 2019
- 11 min read
If you are from Snohomish or have spent a few years living here, you probably know the Rodlands. You might have seen Mr. Dick Rodland, age 90 himself, visiting “some old folks” around town, helping a neighbor fell a tree (photo below, left, Mr. Rodland age 70!), warmly greeting congregants at Cross View Church, loyally rooting for Panther girls’ basketball with his trusty sidekick, Great-Granddaughter-Sophie, or attending Grandparents’ Day at a local elementary school for kids who aren’t his grandkids but whose grandparents live out of state (photo below, right, with Chris 2006). Those are just a few roles I’ve seen him serve over the last 23 years, but I assure you, there are infinitely more ways he has impacted the people of Snohomish.
Most important to me, Mr. Rodland taught first-grade Sunday School for years, showing six- and seven-year-olds the importance of memorizing scripture through the “ABC Bible Verses.” I find myself saying these 26 verses almost daily: they bring peace in chaotic situations, they run through my head as I jog along trails, and rather than counting sheep, I repeat them as I fall asleep at night.
Equally as amazing of a person—Mr. Rodland, in the utmost chivalry and love, might argue that she was significantly more incredible than himself—was Mrs. Marj Rodland. Before her passing one year ago, you might have seen her leading a women’s Bible study, caring for her kids and grandkids, campaigning to raise money for International Child Care Ministries, and so much more. Her soft smile, gentle demeanor, and prayerful approach to all situations made her a role model for many women.
This week for the first time, I had the opportunity to read Mrs. Rodland’s testimony. She scribed her story on a typewriter in 1994 for a Snohomish Free Methodist (now Cross View Church) women’s retreat. As Mr. Rodland handed us the carefully folded, yellowing pages he smiled and said we were in for a treat.
He was, of course, so right. What a blessing to read about the life of such a faithful follower of Christ.
With Mr. Rodland’s permission, I now share Mrs. Rodland’s testimony with you. I’m sure that you will find it as encouraging and inspiring as I did.
I re-typed it exactly as she had written, adding brackets in several places for further explanation:
“To those of you who know Terri Judy [coordinator of women’s retreat that year], you know she is pleasing, personable, and somewhat persistently persuasive. When Terri asked me to share something of my walk with the Lord, I told her I really didn’t have an exciting story to tell—certainly not one of those ‘sit on the edge of your chair’ kind of stories. But she said, ‘I’d like to hear it.’ And I offered to share with her over a cup of coffee sometime. But as you can see, I’m here.
In sharing my story this evening, hopefully, you will see how God has woven into my life many kindnesses and how He has done it.
I was born and raised in a non-Christian home. My parents had both been married before. They were older parents than those of my peers. I really don’t know anything about their first marriages or even how they met. Adults of their generation were often more private than those today.
My parents were as different as night and day. Father came to this country from Norway around the turn of the century; worked his way across the states and was in SF working in a livery stable at the time of the city’s devastating fire in the early 1900s. Eventually he came to Seattle and found work on fishing boats. This matched his liking and skills. In Norway, fishing was his livelihood. After a period of time he was able to invest in a halibut schooner. He operated this boat until his retirement in the late 1940’s. My mother was the oldest of 11 children whose parents and grandparents, also from Norway, homesteaded in the Stanwood area. She graduated from Bellingham Normal (a school for teacher preparation) and taught in multi-grade classrooms in very humble, rural settings. Somewhere along the line my grandfather purchased property from a Mr. Fobes and began clearing land to have another small farm along with their Stanwood property. Sometime later, my mother came to work on the farm along with some of her siblings. They attended school and worked on the farm. This probably alleviated some of the crowding at their Stanwood home. Years later when my folks married, my father purchased the property from my grandfather and it’s been in our family since.
My father’s fishing experience was much different from those of today. Fishing seasons were no limited to just a few days or even hours. When I was young, he essentially fished year around. (Interestingly, several kinds of fish that bring a good price today were in his time considered scrap fish and were thrown back as there was no market for them).
My mother took care of the small dairy. I was an only child and when I was old enough, I learned to milk cows, clean the milking equipment and any of the usual farm chores. We were not well off by any means, but fared better than some because my folks did have some source of income. Many families were trying to recover from the depression. I never knew what the word vacation meant. There simply were none. A trip to Seattle when my dad’s boat was in was a reat treat for me. I thought having lunch a Frederick’s was the greatest.
I really think my folks loved each other but they did quarrel a lot. Of course, my dad was gone a great deal and perhaps that was good. Both were extremely independent and somewhat protective of what they considered their own domain. However, I never worried about their love for me and chose to remove myself from the scene when there was lots of bickering.
As I mentioned my family was not Christian but they allowed me to attend a local SS [Sunday School] held in the Fobes Grade School. The independent SS was run by people truly concerned for children from unchurched homes. They loved us and taught us clearly the plan of salvation. We also had an opportunity to attend a two week DVBS every summer and participate in a meaningful Christmas program. At an early age, as best as I could understand, I accepted the fact that I was a sinner and needed to be saved. This is where Dick received his early spiritual training as well. In fact, years later, when leadership of the SS changed, we were able to assume this responsibility to a lesser degree until the school became part of the Sno. Dist. [Snohomish School District], and religious activities were no longer allowed.
Dick and I were childhood sweethearts. After he graduated from High School, he worked a year to earn tuition money to attend Bible School. I had no planned to attend college so had taken as may business classes in high school as I could. Jobs were not hard to get and I was hired as a bookkeeper for Blue Cross in downtown Seattle. Initially our office was above a drug store and then later moved to new facilities north of the Bon. Much different than the giant BC offices we know today.
Dick and I were married during his Christmas break, his second year of Bible School. It isn’t fancy weddings that make a marriage. Our good friends, the pastor’s son and his wife stood up with us and we were married in the pastor’s study. I remember his looking at us squarely and saying ‘you know this is for keeps don’t you?’ We had no car but Dick’s bro-in-law loaned us his and we literally slid to Canada for a couple days honeymoon before getting back to work. It was an icy, snowy December. But for young people in love, it didn’t seem to matter.
After finishing his second year of Bible School, Dick transferred to Seattle Pacific. I continued working at BC and Dick had several part-time jobs during college days. He received a baseball scholarship which helped with tuition too. Tuition was about $300/year at that time.
School days were finally over and he was hired as a teacher in this district [Snohomish]. And, of course, as many of you know, he retired 2 years ago after 39 years. My 5 years at BC were now over and our first baby was on the way. His arrival was marred by the fact that he had a cleft lip and palate. The Dr. made arrangements for him at Children’s Orthopedic and Dick and his sister took him down the day of his birth. The criteria at that time for surgery was an adequate weight and an otherwise healthy baby. He was healthy and 9.5lbs. was plenty adequate. The Dr. felt it would be too hard on me to see him before his lip surgery. This meant that I didn’t see him until his return from the Orthopedic as I had some complications and was unable to go see him. Had I known better I probably would have resisted the Dr. but I’m sure he did it with the best of intentions. Another of Dick’s sisters let me stay with her for a few days until I was on my feet again.
It was a long time before David’s palate could be repaired and I think he cried most of that time. He was unable to suck and took in lots of air when eating. Since I couldn’t stand to hear him cry I’d carry him and try to console him. Dick would take over when he got home from school. But colicky babies do thrive nevertheless. Obviously we spent much time in Dr.’s offices and hospitals.
Five years later Ricky was born. I had braced myself but still was shocked when he too had an abnormality. This baby’s face was as beautiful as David’s had not been. Ricky’s problem was that of a defective lymph system. In trying to determine the nature of his problems, he died on the operating table because of their inability to stop the bleeding. Needless to say, I was heartbroken. The term now to me was literal. It felt as if I had been stabbed in the heart. (some of you here understand)
Dick’s mother who had several years earlier sold her home, country store and gas station and who had been living with one of Dick’s sisters came to live with us. Our Dave was in school and I went back to work fro several years. Even tho’ my mother was in failing health, she remained independent but I thought maybe if I quit work I could insist on helping her. That never really materialized as she died suddenly. It was shortly after this that we had an opportunity to adopt Carol. And would you believe she started running high temps and it was finally diagnosed that she had bladder infections sometimes resulting in kidney infections. Hers was also a congenital abnormality. It was a roller-coaster experience. On heavy doses of meds and then a brief reprieve. We used to wrap her in wet, cold sheets or put her in the tub to lower the temps. Finally, it was decided she should have surgery on the side that was considered worse. It really didn’t do any good and it’s a procedure that’s no longer done. Carol was preschool age at that time and one day when I arrived at the hospital, I noticed that a lot of her hair was pulled out. She actually had a bald spot. When her bladder would spasm she would wrap her finger around her hair and just pull. Her hair grew back but her kidney problems remain to this day.
My father who was no in his nineties, broke his hip and was also suffering with cancer. We took him into our home and he was able to remain with us until his death. I was glad to be able to help him fulfill his wish to die at home. At this time I was working a few hours a week at the Presb. Church Office here in town. But after my father’s death I decided to go back to school. I had been around so many medical problems that I had an empathy for the sick and their families as well. I attended Nursing School and sometime after finishing, heard about a job opportunity through Dick’s sister. I felt because of family’s needs, I should seek part-time work only. I interviewed and was hired on the spot probably because he needed someone right away. And the job was part-time. In addition I found I would be working for a Christian Dr. I remained in that office for 15 years until retiring last winter.
Sprinkled in with the above, of course, were those happy and fun times and those equally sad ones: Turnouts and games, hamsters and horses, chickens and cows, family gatherings and church activities. And accidents: Carol had a serious car accident, a less serious motorcycle accident and horse accidents.
There were Dick’s major surgeries. We’ve had the joy of Dave’s college graduation, his complete submission to the Lord as a young adult, his marriage and the births of our grandchildren. Sadly and most painful, our daughter’s long rebellion and tempestuous marriage and divorce. I only share this with Carol’s permission.
I’m learning that it’s in the crucible experiences of life that God is teaching me His most valuable lessons. Perhaps that’s why a most favorite Bible verse of mine is Prov. 25:4 ‘Remove the dross from the silver and out will come material fit for the master’s use.’ Some of my experiences I would not have selected or sought. I’m learning that I can either shake my fist at God or put my hand in His and walk with Him.
It is true that God teachers, comforts and guides us through His word and through His Holy Spirit but in His great scheme of things, He often uses people. Did God extend kindness to me? Oh yes! In fact Loving Kindness. (Dr. Vernon McGee tells the story of the little boy who was asked what loving kindness meant. He said kindness is when mama puts peanut butter on my bread. Loving kindness is when she puts jam on too.)
And it’s been through people that God has often shown his loving kindness to me. I told you I had no brothers and sisters. Dick had 8 and they took me in as one of them and loved me.
My own mother died when I was still a relatively young adult but Dick’s mom who lived with us for 10 years was just like a mother to me. She was a wonderful example and I learned so much from her. (I never did learn to change baby’s diapers on my lap though.)
I have a husband who is patience personified. I had a quick temper, a short fuse like my dad. I learned from observing Dick that patience, self-control and a little diplomacy go a long way in contrast to spouting off, pouting or slamming doors. I heard quarreling and bickering in my parent’s home but that has not been true of ours.
There were loyal friends who’ve shared the joys as well as the sorrows. Pastors, SS teachers, bosses and co-workers and the patients who came to our office. I watched how they handled their illnesses and for some their impending death. Grandchildren who are teaching me that it’s OK to take time to pick up rocks and leaves, caterpillars and buttercups—smell the roses as it were.
And above else, those wonderful people who sacrificed their time and resources to reach out to a little country girl who came from a home with no Godly influence. And especially that one who led me to know the Lord and is still a wonderful friend.
As a girl, I had no Christian heritage at least that I knew about. But now God has given me a rich one.
Ladies: I’d like to leave a quote from Dr. Larry Crabb with you that spoke so strongly to me.
‘Finding God in this life does not mean building a house in a land of no storms; rather it means building a house that no storm can destroy.’”
Mrs. Rodland said that God showed his lovingkindness to her through people; He's shown His lovingkindness to me--and people throughout Snohomish--through Mr. and Mrs. Rodland.
Comments