Tag: Anniversaries

We made it

May 28, 2026

Fifty years ago, Cindy and I promised each other we would be husband and wife for the rest of our lives. That’s what I mean. The hardest part wasn’t staying married. It was keeping each other alive. No, we haven’t fought life-threatening illnesses, except those that many of you have.

We’ve had surgeries, and Cindy survived COVID-19. I had a cold that year. We never had a time when it seemed like either of us would not survive. My parents and grandparents did not celebrate their fiftieth anniversary because they were not able to live that long.

Years ago, I watched an interview with a man on his one hundredth birthday. He was asked what he attributed his longevity to, and he responded, “I didn’t die.” That in itself is an accomplishment. Let’s chalk that one up to Cindy and I.

Another accomplishment is that we still love each other. Some marriages end prematurely because they stop trying to be in love. That is a misnomer, because all my faithful readers know, “Love is a verb.” I do not remember the first time I said that to her, but it was in the form of “I love you.”

We have often attempted to say this to each other over these fifty-plus years. Our first Christmas together was when Cindy turned sixteen. She was beautiful, and I wanted her to be mine. I may have tried to sing the song to her. If I did, she must have forgiven me for that. She knows I can’t carry a tune in a bucket.

We spent our first summer apart. I was in Pennsylvania, and she was chasing some guy that she and Debbie, her bridesmaid, thought looked like me, down Kearney Street. It wasn’t me, or I would not be writing this. No, I do not think she would have killed me, but she saw me get on the bus, and if I had not told her I was coming home, she probably would have ended the engagement.

We spent the next summer as husband and wife. That’s an interesting story that I’ve shared before. You can read that in “Doulos.” On our first anniversary, we lived in Joplin, in our third home together, and owned a dog. No, we did not get a dog to see if we wanted children. We got one because we wanted one. The same with the three kids. We had them because we wanted them, and discontinued birth control to make them possible.

We only have three because she started the pills again as soon as she could after each pregnancy. She may tell me I am wrong on the third. I can’t remember that far back. I mention this because this is another reason some do not stay together. They can’t agree whether they will have children or how many.

More than half of our grandchildren are over sixteen. None is married yet. We have no great-grands either. In this day, I must include that, or you may wonder. Life continues for all of us. We have been blessed to not have experienced any of those losses, either.

I do not mean that we have made it to perfection. We made it to our fiftieth anniversary date. Hopefully, we have a long way to go. We have three generations in our family. We are still a family. I believe that we are mostly functional. Pray that we are the people God wants us to be.

©Copyright 2026 by Charles Kensinger

One hundred years of memories.

May 9, 2025

Only about thirteen for this writer. 1963 was the year Immanuel Baptist Church dedicated a new building on the corner of Nichols and Lafontaine in Springfield.  The dedication of the facility is an early memory. Another event from the 1960’s was claiming salvation in Bible School in that same church.

The one-hundred-year anniversary celebration was one of joy and tears for those that attended. As stated in a previous article, your author was there for some of the festivities. The fellowship and food were enjoyed in the Christian life center.  Hot dogs, chili, cotton candy, snow cones and popcorn were some of the consumables that were provided by the Church.

The first person I encountered was Brian the music minister at that time and an old friend from another church.  He and his mother, brother and sisters were members at Hamlin, where I have spent most of my years since leaving Immanuel.  Brian introduced the entertainment at other events that weekend and was a blessed addition to the church staff.

Mrs. Reese was there and greeted her.  In her nineties she seemed to remember the three Kensinger boys that used to roam the buildings during Sunday School, R.A.’s and Vacation Bible School. She has since gone to Heaven. Debbie, Robert, Jack, Vickie and Gary were still there to reminisce about years gone by and times, both good and bad, that were shared.

Sam, Barbara, Dona, Theresa, and Jacob were some former members that were attending and enjoyed photos that were provided by the current membership as well as some they and others brought. 

Life at Immanuel in the sixties and seventies was not always roses. There were a few thorns that surfaced in my mind. The vote of confidence against pastor Short that ended his ministry there, the group that left and started Orchard Crest Baptist Church, another split that formed First Baptist of Battlefield, and the firing of Brother Hamilton.

A positive was meeting Cindy in the old youth building. I was called to the ministry shortly before we met. My decision to attend Southwest Baptist College was made while a member there.

Pastor Clyde Leonard and his family were instrumental in mine and Cindy’s lives. Clyde came to see me with Gary and invited me to a college and career class he taught. I had rejected the church after Brother Hamilton left. I know the leadership thought they had good reasons each time a minister left.

For over forty years I have watched similar situations at Hamlin and voiced my two cents worth when I thought I should. We have never had a split. At least one previous pastor started a new work after leaving us. Many of the founding members of that church came from our congregation.

How long has your ecclesia been praising the Lord and ministering to your communities? Hopefully, you will someday have a hundred years to remember and celebrate as well. Send me an invitation and I’ll try to be there.

©Copyright 2025 by Charles Kensinger