The Dedicated Husband: A True Story

By Delbert C. McCutchen

The Dedicated Husband is a compelling story of a young man navigating the complexities of adulthood and the profound choices surrounding marriage. This heartfelt narrative delves into the life decisions made by him and his spouse, depicting the common struggles many families face.As the story unfolds, an unimaginable event strikes his spouse, th

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Marketeers
• Release date: May 20, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869388209

Book preview

Introduction

I came into this world in Wichita, Kansas, with a mother who, remarkably, revived after giving birth to me not once but three times. Our time together extended until 2017, when she departed to be with God. My journey has taken me from Kansas to two years in Texas while my Dad pursued being a minister at the Sunset School of Preaching in Lubbock, Texas. We then moved to Pea Ridge, Arkansas, for four years and finally moved to north central Arkansas, where I have spent the last 49-plus years, primarily in Flippin, Arkansas. My existence has been both simple and intricately complex, especially in the later years.

In the chapters that follow, I invite you on a journey through Moments of happiness, joy, sorrow, doubt and even despair. I aim to reveal the inner world of someone grappling with a multitude of emotions every minute of every day. I don't consider myself special; if anything, I acknowledge my own inadequacies and recognize that everything I have is a result of God's grace. Yet, through His grace and mercy, I've been privileged to undergo experiences that many may never encounter. I honestly would wish that no one experienced the turmoil I have experienced but I fear I may not be alone.

This journey begins with the early years of my and Vivian's relationship, progresses through the initial years of marriage, delves into the challenges of childbearing and family struggles, reflects on the peaceful times and ultimately navigates through the turmoil that no family should endure. The final chapters of this journey remain unwritten, but my aspiration is to impart knowledge, inspire and encourage those facing daunting obstacles, showing that overcoming is possible.

Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 3:13-14 KJV

Think on these things: Philippians 4:8-9 KJV

Delbert

Note from the author: Any proceeds from this book will go towards the expenses occurred in Vivian's care.

Chapter 1

(The Beginning)

I was just a young boy who had decided after two years of college that enough was enough. I was tired of trying to study computers and programming them. I don't think I was mature enough to be on my own. Looking back, I don't know if anything would have made me ready for the college experience or not. I just believe that some people mature at different levels and I wasn't mature enough for college life yet. So I packed up my stuff and came home to the only place I was comfortable. Back to the town of Flippin and my friends, family and church. Flippin is a small town in North Central Arkansas with a population of about two thousand people. It has a Wal-Mart, Dollar General, a few gas stations and a few restaurants. The closest large towns are Little Rock, about three hours away; Springfield, Missouri, two hours away; and Fayetteville, Arkansas, home of the state's largest university and the Arkansas Razorbacks. I am a fan of the Razorbacks and support them by watching and cheering them on television and radio.

Becoming a Christian at the age of almost 12 years old, I dedicated my life to Christ and pledged to do what was right. I guess being in a strange place and not having friends and family just didn't feel right. The minute I got home everything just felt right again. Dad and Mom were there, my friends many were off at college but my best friend Kevin was still here. Being able to worship again with people I loved and respected was just home. I suppose you can call me prejudiced when it comes to hearing a sermon, but my Dad preaches better than anyone else I have ever heard. Guess that is probably what I missed the most about being gone. My Dad was the Preacher, as they called him when he worked at the local Walmart. I have never heard anyone preach with his passion, mention or quote 50-100 scriptures, all in around 15-25 minutes. Now, that's a true talent that I have never heard anybody else possess. I guess that's just part of the reason I look up to him so much. I have learned so much from the man I call Dad, from watching him preach to seeing him care for his own father while I was growing up and Grandpa was so sick. I remember one particular weekend, we were taking our turn caring for Grandpa and he was so frail and disoriented. I watched Dad pick him up and carry him to the bathroom. This was my Grandpa, who I thought was such a big man. But at that moment, he was so frail and then all of a sudden, as Dad was carrying him back to the bed, Grandpa, without warning, punched Dad and his knees buckled, but Dad hardly stopped, didn't say a word he just gently placed him back in bed and continued to care for his Dad. Then, watching the love he had for my mother, how he cared for her when she was well and even during the last few years of her life after she suffered a stroke and the love he still does. I only hope someday I will live up to my hero (my Dad).

Now, Dad has done some amazing things in his life and I feel we need to discuss some of those before we move on. Dad, as I mentioned, went to preaching school in Texas and we lived on about fifty to one hundred dollars a month. He studied day and night and learned how to really preach and spread God's word. Some of the things that really showed his character were the fact I watched him preach at his own father's funeral. How does one do that? A few years later, he preached at his mother's funeral. I don't know how someone can do such an incredible and emotional thing, but that's my Dad, my hero!

So here I am back home, comfortable again and ready to be carefree. Well, that lasted all of less than a week. Dad came into my room and said Son, don't you think you need a job? which translated to getting to work and being productive. So I went job hunting and found a job at a local shirt factory in Gassville. Factory work was new to me, so this was quite a wake-up call as there were some pretty salty people working there if you know what I mean. Being a really short, skinny,funny-looking, naive kid, I sure was picked on. I began to learn how to handle this teasing and started to fit in a little better in a couple of months. Now, I was really raking in the money because I was getting $3.15 per hour.  I started getting more responsibilities and making some friends at work. It was during this time that my evenings were filled with running around with my best friend, Kevin. I still remember those evenings and the fun times we had. But let me explain to you the fun of that era. We would drive from Flippin to the closest big town, Mountain Home. Now, when I say big, we are talking about 10,000 people. A town that had a Walmart, grocery stores, bowling alley, sale barn, pool hall and movie theater. Our job was to drive from one end of town to the other, claim we were looking for girls and then parking in the grocery store parking lot and telling stories. There, we would crank up the Hank Jr music and tell tall tales to anyone who would listen, or we would listen to others. Lots of excitement for young men in their late teens and early twenties. This was the normal every evening we could, but especially on Friday and Saturday nights. Sure was a good thing gas was less than a dollar per gallon. Of course, that made sense, considering how low our pay was. So our weekends and evenings were going to Mtn. Home and our weekend days were running around where I would help Kevin feed his cows, cut wood, or just drive to Yellville for fun. Yellville is the county seat for Marion County with a population of a little over one thousand and Flippin's main school rival. There was a pool hall and that was about it for the excitement there.

So, let's talk about my best friend, Kevin, for a minute. You will want to understand him better as we continue, so this will help. Kevin was one year behind me in high school and we started running around my junior and senior years in school. Now, Kevin did not go to college like many of my other friends did. As a matter of fact, he started farming at a very young age with a couple of cows and kept going. He never worked inside his entire work life unless you count the local sale barn, which you need to remember. So when he got old enough, a local cattle farmer and co-owner of the local sale barn put Kevin to work on his ranch as well. Kevin was a natural at taking care of cattle between the farmers he met and his father. It wasn't long until he was renting land to put his cattle on and cutting cedar and firewood to sell. Kevin's work ethic and hard work mentality took him beyond most young men his age and before long, he was renting three different places and had cattle on them all. Kevin was and still is my closest friend, someone who, in our early years, if you saw one of us, you saw the other. There were times when we cut wood together and would spend all day Saturday and then go running around that evening. Kevin and I would go several places together, liked the same music and could be seen in the local Wal-Mart in the music aisle, which was cassette tapes back then. Kevin has always impressed me with his work ethic, drive, determination and sheer want to succeed. We just naturally clicked, if you know what I mean; we thought alike, had similar views and really enjoyed each other's company.

Let's move forward a little in our story. If we move up about six months or so you find me wanting to trade my 1980 Buick Regal for a pickup truck. It wasn't a bad car; as a matter of fact, it had a sunroof and electric windows, but it didn't work well for hauling anything. So the search began; I traveled to a couple of local car lots and new dealerships, looking for a truck I could afford. I also had changed jobs inside the factory and received a small raise which would help in paying for a truck. Kevin himself had just purchased a new truck, which only increased my desire to buy a new vehicle. Finally, after receiving some advice from my parents and we all know that's hard to take when you're young, I was convinced to look further away from home to find cheaper alternatives. We traveled quite a distance and, sure enough, found a beautiful-looking truck. It was a grey and silver two-tone with red stripes. It was a brand new 1987 Ford F-150 4x4 single cab with low gears in the rear end and ideal for hauling wood and working around. The truck was everything I wanted, except it was a standard (stick shift) transmission, which I did not know how to drive. Dad got in the truck and drove it for the test drive; he said it was the right truck at over six thousand dollars cheaper than the local dealers. I was so excited and yet disappointed at the same time. How could I purchase a truck that I couldn't even drive? Mom and Dad both assured me I could learn, so I made a leap of faith and signed the loan papers and Mom and Dad co-signed. So, with the papers signed and keys in hand, I handed them to Dad and said let's go home. However, my mother, the amazing woman she was, said, you’re driving and I'm riding with you and you are going to learn how to drive this truck home. Mom put the keys back in my hand, I jumped in the driver's seat and Mom, with Dad helping her, got up in the passenger seat. Dad helped Mom in the truck for two reasons. First, he is just a gentleman and that's what you do and next, Mom was four foot, nine and one-half inches tall. Well, as you might guess, I am scared to death and my mother, in her calm voice, starts talking me through how to start and drive the truck. On the first try, I started the truck and now I put the truck in first gear and let off the clutch. As you might guess, if you have ever driven a stick shift, the truck lunged and died. So, with Mom's instructions, I started the truck again and as I eased off the clutch, it died again. Well, by now, the staff in the dealership had seen what was going on and they had lined the big windows of the dealership, all watching the show. Well, me learning to drive my new truck was the show. Now, I am sure they were all laughing, but I was too nervous; shoot, scared to even notice if they were laughing, betting, or what they were doing. So far, two tries and maybe the truck had jumped five feet and that was my movement so far. Well, so the third time is the charm, right? Not for me; it was another two to five feet. I think the number of people watching keeps getting bigger, too. I have become quite the spectacle for the local Ford dealership. With encouragement from Mom, I try again, failure again. I try again and again without success, only moving a few feet each time. Looking back, I'm still parallel with the big store windows and I haven't even made it half the length of the storefront. Two more tries and still no success I have only moved a few more feet. Now, I am determined and beyond embarrassed to the point I'm getting mad. With all the skill of the last few minutes combined with a determination to no longer be the dealership's entertainment, I started the truck and lunged forward; however, this time, the truck didn't die and out of the parking lot, we went. We began the sixty-mile journey home and as we traveled, Mom and I talked and with her love and guidance, I became more confident that I could drive my new truck. After a couple of stop signs and stoplights, coming home with a few restarts, I pulled into the driveway of my parent's home. Now I am the proud new owner of a vehicle that I can barely drive, but being a young man with plenty of pride, well you have to show off. That meant a phone call to my best friend Kevin, saying you got to come see my new truck. So for all the young readers out there, or if this has made it to an audiobook, we didn't have cell phones; they weren't around yet. When we called each other that meant we were both home using what people call a landline phone. Well, as you can guess, for two young men, Kevin is happy for me but says, Bring it on over here and let's see that new truck, to which I replied no, you come to see me here because I'm not good at driving it yet. So Kevin wants to know what is going on to which I explain it's a stick shift. Next thing I know, Kevin is at our house and we are looking over my new truck like two young kids in a candy store. Then Kevin said let's go for a ride in your truck.  I handed him the keys and said ok, you drive. Kevin, he hops in the truck and off we go to the end of town. When we got there, he said, ok your turn to drive and we traded places. Well, it only took me two times to get going, so I was improving. Well, off down the road I went and without realizing, I was headed toward Cotter. The small town where the white river runs through and not much else. Kevin starts talking about how good the truck looks, how well it runs and before long, I'm already in the town of Gassville. By now, I think Kevin is trying to trick me and sure enough, I'm right because we're already into Mtn. Home and here come the stoplights. Well, you shouldn't have to guess how that was going to go. As you probably guessed, I would kill the truck every time I had to stop at a red light and take off again. Did I forget to mention it was a Friday night? Mountain Home was busy with lots of traffic. Don't think I've ever heard that many horns honk at one time or in one night. So it was driven from one end of town to the other, turn around and do it again. Just like a bottle of shampoo says, rinse, lather, repeat. That is exactly what I did all evening long repeat. Pull up to a stop light, kill the truck, start the truck, hear horns honk, kill the truck, restart the truck and repeat. This process went on for about 3 to 4 hours and by the time it was over, I could take off on a hill, pop the clutch and not roll back; the horns stopped honking too. It was the day my Mom and Kevin taught me how to drive my new truck and I never looked back until now telling the story. It's amazing how much someone can learn without even consciously thinking about how it happened. I just wish that more learning would happen that way.

The days turn into weeks and now we have two trucks to haul wood and feed cows. I don't think I ever became a farmer or a cowboy, but I sure learned how to do many different things with Kevin's help. I did get good at cutting wood, which came in handy later and I learned that by putting a truck in first gear in four-wheel drive low, you could get out