Blessed By an All-American Cowgirl

“God will not permit any troubles to come upon us, unless He has a specific plan by which great blessing can come out of the difficulty.” ~~ Peter Marshall

Having just finished reading a book by Dale Evans Rogers, I purchased another by her on Amazon — Angel Unaware. The one I just read is entitled Dearest Debbie. Both are about daughters she lost, all too soon.

As I read, I cried. And I remembered…

April 23, 1982 — en route to Haiti. My first mission trip. I was twelve, and thus, eager. No fear. No hindrances. No need for mascara and curling irons and organic body wash. Free. Uninhibited.

We were on a flight from Atlanta to Miami. Nestled in my seat, my mom nudged me. “Know who that is?”

I looked in the direction of her pointing finger toward a woman seated a few aisles ahead of us. “That’s Dale Evans, married to Roy Rogers… the cowboy. You know, who rode Trigger?”

Silence…

“Dale Evans and Roy Rogers… the “Jesus Loves Me” album?”

With that, it clicked. This had been one of my favorite records when I was a young child (Yes, I’m that old!), along with their Christmas album — “Christmas is Always.”

“Oh yeah, now I remember. So that’s her?” (I strained my neck over the high seat backs to look again.)

“Yep, that’s Dale Evans. Dale Evans Rogers.”

Reaching into my carry-on bag, I pulled out my autograph book. How convenient that I’d brought it along! Though there were many signatures and “Roses are red…” rhymes — all of them nice — no one famous had ever signed it.

“Mom, do you have a pen? I’m gonna ask her for her autograph. Do you think she’ll mind?”

Handing one to me,  Mom replied, “I can’t imagine she would, dear.”

Approaching her from behind, I suddenly felt shy. “Um, excuse me. May I… uh… may I please have your autograph, Ms. Evans… Er, I mean… Ms. Rogers. Or is it Ms. Evans Rogers?” I turned three shades of red.

A weary woman looked up from the book she was reading. “Yes, of course,” she replied.

She signed my Hallmark “Snoopy and Woodstock” autograph book, smiling faintly up at me. “There you go.”

Taking the book, I managed, “Thank you,” and then returned to my seat.  Turning to her page, I read, “God bless you. Dale Evans Rogers.”

I showed the autograph to my mom, who smiled. Then I looked at it again and again — admiring it from Atlanta to Miami, until I finally stowed the book for landing.

Yes, this moment from my past came to mind today as I finished reading Dearest Debbie — remembering a weary woman on that Delta flight all those years ago. I thought about her words — “God bless you.”

An all-American cowgirl had blessed me.

Dale Evans — who had experienced so many heartbreaks by the time a tinsel-toothed, overly eager 12-year old asked her to sign an autograph book — had said “God bless you.” She didn’t have to. She had, after all, experienced enough pain and loss in her 70 years to be justifiably angry… bitter — feeling as though her life had been cursed. Yet, she chose to offer a blessing. To me. And today, as a woman myself… a mother — all these years later –I am simply amazed. And I am humbled.

Though many perhaps imagine their lives to have been “fairytale” — movies and stardom, Hollywood, musical success — Dale Evans and Roy Rogers suffered great loss and sadness. Their biological daughter Robin died at the age 2 from complications related to mumps. She had Down’s Syndrome; their 12-year old adopted daughter Debbie was killed in a bus accident (on her way home from a day-long mission trip to Mexico with her church group); and their adopted son John David “Sandy” died before his 20th birthday. Yes, this man and this woman — these parents — experienced great pain. And yet, they didn’t recoil in fear. They didn’t stop living. No. Instead, they chose a different “story.” Dale sang a different song. She wrote:

“I do not pretend to know the answer to why God called you… home so soon. I only know that I trust His wisdom, and that I love Him with all there is in me. ‘In Him I live and move and have my being.’ He sees the end from the beginning. If I trust and obey Him, He has promised that He will direct my path upward. God does not break us with testings; He means to make us stronger and more useful. He comforts us in the testing, so that we may comfort others, when they are tested, with the ‘comfort wherewith we ourselves are comforted…’ (II Cor. 1:4). I only know that I want to be used by Him, as He sees fit, in the earthly years that I have left. It isn’t for me to ask ‘Why?’ — but, ‘Lord, what would You have me do?’… I shall go on singing the Lord’s praises until He calls me home, too… until then, as Stuart Hamblen wrote in his wonderful song, ‘Until then, my heart will go on singing…’… I read in the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah (33:3) in my Bible: ‘Call unto Me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not.’ I will go on calling on Him, as I have for so long. He has, and He always will answer me. He has shown me mighty things, and some very hard things which I never expected — but always, when I trusted Him, blessings followed in abundance… The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord…” (Taken from Dearest Debbie, Fleming H. Revell Company, 1965.)

All these years later, having met this extraordinary woman when I was a girl, I reflect upon my life — both the mountain top triumphs, as well as the deep, dark valleys of loss. And I can only, with humility, pray,

“Lord, help me live with this kind of faith… this kind of trust… this kind of relinquishment… and this kind of obedience. I know I cannot do it without Your enabling power. But I do desire such, and I believe that — in the great scheme of things — this life is a mere blink of the eye compared to eternity and the home You’re preparing for Your children. Help me to not only believe this, but to walk this out — by faith — each and every day of my life. For Your glory and the good of Your people...”

I pray this. And I mean it. Yet, as a mother, am I alone in my battle with fear regarding my children? (Please tell me I’m not.)

He’s almost old enough to get his license. Will he drive safely… pull over when he needs to use his phone… drive defensively at all times… stay awake and alert, even when tired or distracted…?

He’s so smart, but so easily distracted and drawn to things of the world. Will he live for God whole-heartedly? Will he follow God’s call? And I’m not even talking about his future career or the woman he’ll one day marry. What about things as simple (yet important) as the music he listens to… the games he plays…?

She’s so young… so innocent. Is she really safe playing at her friend’s house? Will she be watched closely? What if the girls go outside unattended? There are unkind people out there. It’s not always safe. Will she be okay?

But I don’t want to be held captive by fear and, in turn, teach my children to fear. Dale Evans — though fear was, she admitted, a battle — didn’t allow it to hold her back. No! And so, I ask myself: Am I teaching my children to live beyond fear, as well? To pray without ceasing? And to bless others even when it’s easier to curse? Am I demonstrating for them with my own life an unwavering trust in a sovereign God who created us, loves us, and has a plan “to prosper and not to harm us” (Jer. 29:11)?

Am I? Really?

Today, as I closed the cover to Dearest Debbie, I remembered. Then I searched for the worn autograph book in my treasure chest. Along with it, I found my mom’s old Bible which she gave to me when I was a girl. I used to sleep with it. Random words are underlined (my attempt to “study” God’s Word as a child, just as I’d seen my mom do, pen in hand). I opened its cover and buried my nose (literally) inside. It still smells the same, even after all these years. My name is scrawled inside the cover, next to Mom’s. I cherished this book — cherish it still. It helped to form my faith, along with the Roy Rogers / Dale Evans “Jesus Loves Me” album (Yes, Dale had unknowingly blessed me way back then, too).

(The little girl sitting with Dale Evans Rogers on the piano bench is her dear Debbie.)

More than 30 years have gone by since that Delta flight from Georgia to south Florida. The mission trip to Haiti remains a treasure-trove of memories — beautiful memories of dark-skinned boys and girls who spoke no English, yet communicated their love perfectly — understanding mine, as well. This trip, no doubt, fostered within me a love and an appreciation for needy children in the United States and in other countries around the world. Today, we sponsor several boys and girls through various organizations (Compassion International, World Vision, and Metro Ministries) — our way, in part, of caring for the “least of these.” Yes, this trip undoubtedly changed my life.

(12-year old me, with braces, fair skin, and straight blonde hair, was quite the contrast to the other boys and girls I met in Haiti. But friendship knows no limits and love “sounds” the same in any language!)

And honestly, I’ve thought very little over the years about my brief encounter with a celebrity named Dale. Her name, though tucked in my autograph book between classmates’ and elementary school teachers’ messages, hasn’t oft been discussed. But this is, after all, what she desired — to “decrease that [God] might increase” in her life” (John 3:30). She wrote to her Debbie…

“Paul says, in Galatians 2:20, ‘I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.’ Except Christ be in me, Debbie, my way would indeed be impossibly long and dreary.”

Yes. Dale Evans waited — waited to one day see her dear children again. But even so, she did not wait without hope. And in her waiting, she chose to offer blessing — that Christ might be glorified. Not her. It makes sense, then, that my encounter with her remained, all these years, in the back of my mind, rather than at the front.

Still today — as I closed the cover of her poignant “letter” to her Home-gone daughter, brushing tears from my eyes — I felt as though I really knew this woman.  After all…

We’ve both been awakened in the night — hearing, “Momma” from a little one afraid of the dark.

We’ve both snapped at bickering children as they’ve  fought over a toy, a seat on the couch, or the largest cookie…

We’ve both battled fears of our own — afraid of the many unknowns that are birthed (and never die) when a child, despite his or her age, has a home in a mother’s heart.

We’ve both opened Bibles (sometimes rather randomly) in search of a word, any word, from God to help make sense of the chaos called “Life” — bringing comfort, peace, wisdom…

And although I’ve never said good-bye to a little one who has been taken to Heaven so young, I have experienced the heartache of losing children (two daughters) to failed adoptions. I, too, have shaken my fist at God and cried out, “Why?” And I, too, have crumbled in His everlasting, always loving arms and have heard myself utter — through faith void of feeling — “You are good and what You do is good… I trust in You...” (Ps. 119:68)

And in trusting Him, I’m strengthened to continue living, despite fear. To continue blessing, despite the temptation, at times, to curse. To love, even when loving is difficult — offering kisses and hugs to tight lipped, stiff-necked children sometimes.

That’s what mothers… what parents — good parents — do.

“Parents are caretakers for God, be they either natural or adoptive parents. It’s LOVE that counts… It will bring great joy and blessing. I know — from experience.” ~~ Dale Evans Rogers.

I want to love without fear. Live without fear. Bless rather than curse and, in turn, experience blessing — if not on this side of Eternity, at least when I, too, am finally Home. Like my friend, Dale Evans, I want to say, “It’s LOVE that counts… I know — from experience.“

“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear… Anyone who believes in the Son of God has this testimony (story) in his heart…” (I John 4:18a, 5:10a).

(A grown up “little girl” on another mission trip — to Haiti’s next door neighbor, the Dominican Republic in 2011… experiencing the life and love Christ has given me, and sharing it with others! Though the words cannot be seen, hidden behind a beautiful little girl’s embrace, the T-shirt I’m wearing says, ‘Fear Not / Love All.’ Amen.)