Marriage and God

Some of you may know that my husband, Brent, took a trip to Africa for 11 days last month during the very same time that my very special guests came for a visit. It was the first time we had been apart for that long and during that time contact was sparse to non-existent. Looking back 11 days doesn’t sound that long but I can assure you that in the midst of that it may has well have been a month.

Now… some of you may also know that I love a challenge. But I suspect that very few of you know to what depth. For example, I HATE emptying the dishwasher so I often time myself (aiming for under 2 minutes) or determine how many moves from the dishwasher to the cabinets will be required to empty the load. So for me, I did my absolute best to come up with some sort of personal challenge to get me through those 11 days.

What I noticed, in those days leading up to his departure, was that my biggest concerns were not for his safety while traveling for hours over an open ocean or even that he was headed to one of the most dangerous countries in the world. Rather, I realized that I was going to miss the companionship of my best friend, my “bud”.  And this is where I found my challenge…
I have heard time and time again that God likens our relationship with our husband with our relationship with Him. I began to wonder what the specific similarities there are as well as what made my daily marriage and communion with Brent so easy while I often struggle to maintain any valuable connection with God. 

As I thought about all of this many questions came to mind and I wanted to share some of it with you…

First, Brent and I wrote one another letters. One for each night that we were apart. I found that it was incredibly hard to wait to read Brent's letters to me. I had the stack of letters sitting on my night stand and wanted them to be the very last thoughts I took in each night. Meanwhile my Bible lays on my night stand right next to my pile of letters and well within reach and yet I often have to force myself to read it's words. It's a love letter from my Heavenly Father. It is full of His words of how He loves me and I am His special and chosen child. It tells me about how He is preparing a place for me to be with Him forever so that we never have to spend a day apart. I cannot think of even one time that I have put off reading His words to me solely so they could be the last words that grace my thoughts before I fall asleep. Instead, I'm usually happy to consume my thoughts with my own concerns and desires as I pray myself to sleep. I tell myself that it’s sweet and nice to end my day in prayer but then I ask myself “What would my relationship with Brent look like if I treated him that way?”  I realize how selfish and one sided it would be. There would be no depth because he would know all about me and what I think and I would know nothing about him because I never took the time to get to know him. To hear his thoughts. That's not a passionate, long-lasting relationship. That is what you do with your therapist but in God's case, He doesn't even get paid.

When Brent had only been gone for 24 hours, I stood in church singing songs of praise and glory to God. Now, I can't say that I do this very often in my marriage… certainly not as often as Brent would like… but I can tell you that there are often times where my mind is so consumed with life and everything in it that my praises are just words. I belt them out…often in harmony. I can close my eyes. I know the lyrics well. And I can feel nothing. I don’t mean to say that I believe you must have goosebumps to truly commune with God but for me, I know the difference between holy surrender and “talking the talk”. I thought about how this would look with my husband and what it’s effects would be and I pictured myself extolling his goodness and generosity while texting a friend or blowdrying my hair. I would seem uncommitted and insincere to say the least. Once again, it would be bad for our marriage.

There were other things…like…when something happened... and I mean anything... Brent was the first person I wanted to tell. It could have been exciting or depressing, major or minute, victorious or defeating, about me or someone I know. It didn’t matter what it was, I wanted Brent to know about it.
I find that most often I only go to God when I want something be it material goods, sleep, patience, or health, I often treat Him like a magic genie or, at best, a "Sugar Daddy". As the bride of Christ, I make a lousy spouse. My passions and desires are not for my beloved. They are steeped in the me-ness of my life and, once again, one sided. I would be a miserable friend and a unpleasant lover if all I ever did was ask of my husband and not offer care, love, compassion, and willingness to lay my desires aside.

Along with the above, I had a particularly rough night with the kids one night. After a full week and a day with no husband we all had one big giant melt down. Yes. Me included. In the midst of it I was able to pray for wisdom and peace but I couldn't shake the thought that it was time for Brent to come home. Up until this point I was surprised at how well I was doing. It took 9 days for the kids and I to have a bad moment. I had worked hard, I had been extra patient, I gave the kids extra time to get things done and gave them more freedom then normal. By the time our “bad moment” arrived I was tired. I was at my end. I nearly cried as I allowed my frustrations of "going it alone" bubbled to the surface. The problem… I got all the way to my wits end and I then began to feel entitled to Brent's presence. What was it that took me so long to realize my need for help. Why didn't I begin to want his help until I was at my breaking point?
I find that I often do this with God. I wait until the very end, when I’ve “done all I can do”, I’ve come to the end of me and THEN I ask for His “help”. The reality is that I never need to struggle and work hard at it to begin with and all my water treading just exhausts me but leaves me where I started. God cares for me, and all I have to do is ask. Why do I needlessly struggle when He’s there all along?

As the week went on, I began to see my “personal challenge” change. At first I thought that this time apart would show me what I was missing out on with my relationship with God as it stands. Over time I began to wonder if it was more a chance to see what it would be like if I didn't have the relationship with God to begin with. Every day things reminded me of what my usual day to day includes with Brent. Things like “quiet coffee" when the kids go to bed, his warm hairy leg to rub against at night, kisses as we pass closely in the kitchen, someone to share my strange and simple thoughts with, my feelings with, my frustrations with, someone to bring my concerns to God with, someone to speak inside jokes to. So often it only takes a single word or a look and we'll be bent over laughing together. Only a moment would go by before another reminder of my husband came along. How long could I stand to be without him?

Back to the letters that Brent wrote me… Why don't I drip with anticipation to read God's love letters to me each and every day? I've take the availablity of Him for granted. I've expected Him to be handy when I need Him and, in essence, use Him to my gain and comfort. I've come to understand that I don't need my husband by my side and I don't need to be by his but the fact is that I WANT to. In contrast, I NEED Christ and yet I don't see m to want Him and I wonder, why is that?

As I prepared for Brent’s return I went through the house and picked up all the clutter, all the stray toys, and all the dirty clothes. I wiped down shelves, cabinets, bathrooms, and I emptied the sink of dirty dishes. I readied the house for his return because I knew that he would appreciate the work I had done while he was gone, he would be grateful that his investment in our house wouldn't be wasted or left uncared for while he was away. He expected me to maintain his possessions and his children while he was gone and I did everything I could to ensure that he would be happy when he got home. As I cleaned, I began to wonder how I would have handled the mess if I hadn’t known when he would return? I'm a neat freak by nature so the clutter would have been managed and counters wiped clean but would I have put off the dusting and thorough scrubbing if I knew he could be home at any moment? Christ promised to return in His time and I often wonder how prepared I am for this. I often feel as though I have simply put away the clutter that I look ready for a quick glance. The thing is, God doesn’t promise a quick once over when He returns. He promises that one day I will stand alone before Him to give account for every thing I have done. Do I live my life to be “white glove” ready?

So the day finally came for Brent to come home. My brother was set to pick up Brent and my dad but I decided that the kids and I would drive a little under two hours to pick him up ourselves. I felt like we were dating again as the excitement built for me and I wanted to present myself and our kids at our best. I showered, brushed, dried, "make-uped", primped, perfumed, etc. I dressed the kids in cute clothes, made sure they were clean and ready to see dad. I didn't want my husband to see me half-done, unkempt, or worse, in my usual comfy worn out, faded and stretched sweats. I wanted to present myself to him at my best. Shouldn't I always be ready to present myself before the Lord? Because I do not know the day or the hour, shouldn't I be at my best and in my most presentable state at all times? And the kind of long lasting beauty that I am looking to present to both Hubs and God requires time, work, and preparation. I couldn't just go to the gym, get all dirty, slap on some lipstick and body spray and hope Brent doesn't notice the sweat and hair stuck to my face. I couldn't let myself go and eat all the bon-bons I wanted while he was gone and just before his plane landed run a mile in the hopes it will fix all the damage I’d done. In the same way, I need to prepare myself for Christ's return. I need to be on constant guard against the distractions, temptations, and messes of this world to be ready for Him, blameless and clean and I cannot simply live a messy life and fix it at the last minute.

Though I walked away with a deeper understanding of what it means for me to be the bride of Christ, I am most appreciative of one thing. Time and time again over those 11 days, I was given the gift of seeing that though my love for my husband is deep and vast, it is not what keeps me alive. It is not what sustains me and gives me joy. I could not ask for a better suited man for me and all my quirks but I believe our time apart was a gift that allowed me to better understand where God and Brent should stand in my life and for that I will be forever grateful. 

{map} {letter} {cleaning}{hands}

Yes, Lord. I hear you...

I've feel as though I've been hit over the head a few times over the past weeks.
I don't know if you've ever experienced God in this way, but sometimes it seems like He has set His mind on teaching me a lesson and, when He does, every aspect of my life circles around that lesson.

I  read "Created to Be His Help Meet" by Debi Pearl about a year ago {a somewhat controversial book for some} and out of all the good stuff, the meat, Debi shared, one quote stuck with me... "joy begins with thankfulness". The idea that, when I get into a rut of complaints, selfishness, and downright whining, I can just "appreciate my way out of it" was intriguing.
I know that often wallowing in my own self-pity can be satisfying... for a while. I also know that allowing myself to indulge in my own anxiety and anger is an awfully silly way to waste my time...my life...and that allowing myself to bathe in my own discontentment makes me an idol of my own creation and I miss out on the gifts the Lord has waiting for me {Jonah 2:8}.

I also have been reading about a book titled "One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are" by Ann Voskamp. I heard about it from Lindsay on Passionate Homemaking's blog. Lindsey seemed deeply moved by this book and the title, alone, sounded like something I could benefit from.
Yes, I have a cozy little home that stays warm in the winter, cool in the summer. Yes, I've been given two beautiful, healthy children who make me smile daily. Yes, my husband is a hard worker who goes above and beyond to care for me and our children. Yes! I have an easy comfortable life that is blessed by all I need and so much more... and yet... I complain about the small and silly. The constant flow of crumbs under the table. The piles of laundry that I have no interest in folding. The expectation of my husband and children to cook, clean, and keep the house running along with everything else I promised I'd do five years ago in front of family and friends.

So I bought the book.

I must admit... the writing style is a little more poetic than I like and yet each chapter has spoken to me.
Deeply.
I mean DEEPLY.
I know that the Lord places things in our lives at just the right moment.
Jerry Falwell Sr. used to say "God never puts more ON you than he puts IN you to bear it up". I always liked that saying and sometimes, when it counts, I manage to hear those words echo in my mind.
This book... this story of Ann's life was just what I needed and I didn't even know I needed it. I wish I could share with you every word that God has been speaking gently to my heart through this book but there's just too much. The over-arching message, though, is that we must learn and practice being thankful for each and every gift that God has given us. The definition of "gift" may not always be what we expect. It may be small and simple. It may be an ugly-beautiful thing. It may be a painful gift... but we must be willing to accept any and all gifts from the Lord to truly understand who He is and what His love looks like in our lives.
We must trust Him completely. Our inability to do so is like raising your arms for nourishment for God but keeping your hands balled in fists. You can't have it both ways. You can't half accept what He has to offer and reject the parts that don't feel good. That goes for the silly things like crumbs under the table and the crippling, painful things like the death of a child.
This book has, in the past week, taught me to slow down, take note of what is and what should be important in my life and look for God in everything.
Ann started her whole journey by creating a list of one-thousand things she was thankful for. Most of what she wrote seemed so silly to me and didn't make much sense... "22. Mail in the mailbox... 24. Old men looking for words just so."  {pg 48} As I read through her story, though, they started to make sense and as I started my own list I realized how silly my gifts sounded and yet that seemed to be the point. God is in the silly, mundane details of our lives. He's in the soap bubbles in the dish water. He's in the small, smudgy hand-prints on the kitchen window. It's our hearts that have to practice thanksgiving to see the blessing in those things.
{So anyway... yes, I think the book is good and yes, I recommend it.}
But as I said, the lesson that I have been learning isn't just in the books... it seems that God is showing me in all aspects of my life that I am missing thankfulness. I am far too prideful to be of any use to God outside of His grace.
Grace.
Maybe that's the lesson I'm learning.
In the weekly Bible study I attend we have been going through the prophets of the Old Testament. Recently it was Jonah.
I've heard this story a million times. That may be an accurate number since I was born and raised in the church.

Jonah: He runs from God's call to go to Ninevah and tell them to start behaving or God's gonna get'um. He ends up on a boat heading in the wrong direction. God sends a storm. Jonah goes over the edge of the boat. Get's swallowed by a big fish. {You may be picturing Veggie Tales or Pinocchio by now...} Stays there for three days. Gets puked out onto the shore. Goes to Ninevah. The people repent. Jonah's done his job. The end.

Um... yeah...

That may have been what I've read over the past twenty-plus years of my life but this time... this time it was different. The passage I've read a thousand times over was new to me. The detail. The great God in the small and silly.
First, God called Jonah to be a messenger to some seriously nasty people. Nahum three says that people were literally stumbling over the dead bodies in the streets.

Ew.

And yes, Jonah does run. He runs in the complete opposite direction. He was told to go northwest by land and, instead, he headed southeast by water. He actually thought he could run from God. And yet God, in His infinite mercy, was patient with Jonah. Numbers 14:18 says that "the Lord is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, forgiving iniquity and transgression..." Granted, God's means of "gentle patience" with Jonah involved a tempest and a giant fish, which many believe to be a shark.
Subtle?
Not in my book.
BUT, rather than allowing Jonah to hit the water and drown in the waves, He saved him.
Despite him.
Whether or not it took the whole three days for Jonah to realize his need for repentance, I don't know.
I can just picture Jonah, all squished into the belly of a fish who was only slightly larger than him, wondering how he was going to get out, if at all, and then... after taking a stab at paralyzing fear, panic, and complaint... he submits in prayer.
And yes, it's then he's puked out onto the shore.
And it's then that he agrees to obey.

A dear friend recently told me that he has a habit of overdoing it and he's the type of guy who requires being hit in the head with a two-by-four before he sees his need to stop. listen. and change. 

Praise God that He doesn't use the "fishy-treatment" on us! 

So Jonah goes.

And he gives the warning to the mean and nasty Ninevites and passes on the message, from God, that they will encounter complete and total destruction if they don't repent and change their ways.
And what happens?
Immediately, the people "believed God" {Jonah 3:5}. They immediately changed. The heard the warning and they repented. And "when God saw what they did, how they turned from heir evil way, [He] relented of the disaster that He had said He would do to them...".
Did you catch that?
"God SAW what they did. He SAW how they turned from their evil way"...

They not only repented... they acted.
They stopped what they were doing.
They turned and changed.
And God spared them... those mean and nasty people.
It would seem most natural for Jonah to rejoice in the miraculous change he saw in the Ninevites. And yet... he pouted! He became angry with God for showing mercy on those mean and nasty people!
Jonah 4:5 says that Jonah actually went out of the city, made a cozy spot for himself, and sat back to watch the destruction of the city from a safe distance away!
He looked forward to the power of God being displayed in front of him in big, booming, fire-falling-from-heaven kind of ways. Yet, just as in I Kings 19, God wasn't in the fire and the mighty wind. God was in the whisper. In the story of Jonah, God power wasn't displayed through the destruction of an entire nation.

God power was in His grace.
His mercy.
His repentance.

How true is it of me to pout when God's justice isn't carried out the way I want. Even in my own home I hide under my super-spiritual-wifeness and warn and wait for the destruction of my husband's bad habits.
Am I alone in this?
Am I the only one who is deeply offended by my husband's momentary inconsideration and takes it upon myself to "set him straight" as if I'm any better? I wish I could say that I've never waited for God to deal quickly and "justly" with those I am hurt by. AND YET... I pray for mercy on myself and show minimal thankfulness when it's shown to me time and time again. I don't take stock, often enough, of how I pray for justice on others and try to keep God's mercy for myself.
Where's the justice in that?!
That line of thinking should cause me to shudder  because it means that I do not love those people.
Not truly.

Ugh.

If I follow that to it's conclusion I can't help but ask if I am loving my husband when I sit back and wait for God to deal with him and his bad moments.
As a believer, born and raised, I often forget how ugly my little child heart was before He saved me. While I was still in the acts of my sinful, mean and nasty heart... there, in that mess... God saved me.
Why is that so difficult to remember?
Why am I so quick to not only take note of other's sins but brand them into my mind so that when they fall I can quickly recall their past offenses as a record against them?

So how does this all connect?

Simply this... I have failed to see God in others.
I have failed to recognize Him in all things and all people.
I have failed to see Him in the "good" and the "bad".
I have been enthusiastic in complaining about things that I interpret as "bad", "unfair", "wrong", or "unjust".
I have been willing to take the good from God in any and all things but have been quick to pull back my eager arms and clench my fists when something ugly comes along.
And because of that, I miss out on who God is and in my refusal to trust Him completely.

I saw myself in Jonah much more than I'd like to admit.
I take my only solace in this... He's not done with me yet and, though my dark heart doesn't deserve a minute of His time or an ounce of His mercy... He gives it generously.

Take a Trip...

Hi!
Today I'm sending you over to Passionate Homemaking.
I read her post on 12 Ways to Love Your Hubby Without Saying a Word and it stuck with me.
It's the simple things that count.
Love it!
Have a beautiful weekend! 

{Photo Credit}

A Mother's Apology

Looking back on the past few days, I see many many ways that I was rude, wrong, forceful, loud, proud, judgmental, harsh... It's very easy for me to get caught up in my own life and the life of my kids/family. I often find that I have forgotten where I am and how my/my kid's actions affect others. Thankfully, most people I encounter are gracious and understanding. {If they aren't, I'm usually oblivious to their daggers.} None the less, I wanted to take some time out to apologize for what I have let being a mommy do to me.

This is sincere. 
Not intended to be condescending or patronizing. 

To The World: 

I realize not everyone is comfortable around a nursing mom {whether they're covered or not}. 

I was there.
I felt awkward too.
It won't change the fact that I nurse in the restaurant across from you or on a bench in the park but I'm sorry it makes you feel that way. 

I mean that.

I'm sorry when I am so consumed with keeping my munchkin happy and quiet that I cut you off in the grocery store or bump into you without even knowing it.
I may not apologize.
I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for being a rude driver.
Sometimes my infant cries and getting home to feed them or put them down for a nap is the only thing I can think of.
That is not a valid excuse.

I'd like to think I'm not normally that inconsiderate. 

I'm sorry if my kids' behavior is distracting and I don't immediately correct them.
Sometimes I just like to finish what I'm doing and have to mentally weigh the pros and cons of getting something done versus quick discipline.
Sometimes, a completed task wins out. 

Yes, I am aware that sometimes my kids play with potentially dangerous objects for longer than they should because it's keeping them quiet. 

I'm sorry to all stores where I allow my kids to touch things that I am not going to buy because it, again, keeps them occupied.
A momma's time is precious so sometimes I let things slide. 

I'm sorry for taking up the handicap accessible restroom stall or fitting room because the stroller doesn't fit in regular rooms and my toddler needs space to move. 

I'm sorry that my little ones don't always understand the concept of personal space and often borrows yours. 

We'll work on that.

To Mrs. Bilton: 

I'm sorry for when my son mistakes your produce section for his own personal taste-test kitchen and helps himself to a bite of plum or tomato and then puts it in your bird bath.
I didn't teach him that. 

To My Friends: 

I'm sorry for cutting you off in conversation to tell my kids to "put that down".

I'm sorry for asking you to repeat things because my mind was somewhere else.

I'm sorry for forgetting what you've said moments after you'd said it because my kids were too quiet and I was wondering what trouble they were getting in to.

I'm sorry for interrupting you and talking a lot.
I don't get out much.
I'm sorry for talking about me and not asking about you.

I'm sorry for forgetting important events in your life and filling your ear with stories about my kids and my day. Usually things that aren't important.
Ugh.
I hate when I do that.

I'm sorry that, when we go somewhere together, I take a long time to do anything. 

I'm sorry that I'm usually late and can't give you more specific times than "between ten and eleven".
I'm sorry that I am not as "cool" as I used to be.
I'm sorry to cut fun girl's nights short because it's past my bedtime or I need to go nurse the baby.
I'm sorry that I can't come over to play during the best times of the day because my kids are asleep.
I have to admit though... I love nap time no matter when it comes.

I'm sorry if my kids' diapers offend your nose and I don't rush to change them.
I'm either immune to the stink and could use a reminder or I know and just have to work up the will do to anything about it.
I value my time with you though I may not always show it.

To You Other Mommies: 

I am a proud and judgemental woman.
I always have been. 

I apologize. 

I often watched mischevious toddlers and thought, I would never let me kid act like that. 

I was wrong. 

I 'm sorry. 

I can't help it.
I'm not convinced that they can help it.
Terrible two's are not a joke.
Even a strict mommy like me will be embarrassed by their child who lies prostrate on the concrete floor in a long line at Costco in protest in the because he doesn't get his way. 

To all the people who waited in line behind us that day...

Sorry for the wait. 

I too quickly assume "my kid wouldn't ever do that".

Boy was I wrong! 

Husband: 

I'm sorry that I'm not "in the mood" the way I used to be. 

I'm sorry that sometimes I shower less often than I should. 

I'm sorry for the days when body spray is my shower. 

I'm sorry for not dressing up and doing my hair more.
I'm sorry for the lounge pants and over-sized sweatshirts.
I'm going to make an apron soon so I can justify wearing nicer clothes. 

I'm sorry that it is so much work to give you attention sometimes. 

I'm sorry that I use being with kids all day as an excuse for grouchiness.
It's not you.
It's me.

I'm sorry for using my "mommyhood" as an excuse for griping sometimes. 

I'm sorry when you have to eat hot dogs because I found things to fill my day with that didn't ensure you were cared for.

I promise, I'm working on it.

To My Kids:
I'm sorry for taking frustrations out on you. Even when you don't know that's what I'm doing.
I'm sorry for treating you like a neusense sometimes.
You're not.
I'm just selfish with my time.
I'm sorry when I am sometimes inconsistent in what I say and what I do.
That's not who I want you to be.
I'm sorry when I don't do what I say I'm going to.
That includes discipline.
It's not fair to you... though I'm sure sometimes you appreciate it.
I'm sorry when I discipline first and consider your true motives and behaviors later.
Sometimes I'm wrong.
I'm sorry for plopping you in front of the TV just because I know it will keep you quiet.
I'm sorry that sometimes I make the wrong decisions.
There are lots of decisions to make and I am bound to get plenty wrong.
I wish that wasn't the case.

There are more redeeming reasons for having children than I can list. Children are a blessing from the Lord and "blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them" {Psalm 127:4-5}. Little did I realize, however, that my dignity, organization and consideration would take a serious blow. I try. I really do. Praise the Lord for His forgiveness, right?

Our Very First "Date-Night In"

For any of you who haven't tried this...
it is a must! 

BabyWise talks about how putting your marriage first is the best thing you can do for your family and, though Hubs and I totally agree with that, we tend to keep it simple by having a cup of coffee at the table sans kiddos or having a conversation without allowing interruptions for an allotted amount of time. Well, tonight we did it up! We decided early Saturday afternoon to have a date night and, since no one was free to watch the tikes, we had a "night in". I did some quick planning {thanks to my favorite cook, Ina Garten}, ran to the store for all the ingredients needed, and started a cooking frenzy from 3p to 8p. Sweet Hubs kept the kids busy and got them bathed and into bed, then Hubs showered while I made the finishing touches on the meal, slipped into a dress, lit some candles, came up with some "Date Night Guidelines" to keep it special {NO talking about kids. No technology. Kind words only, no teasing or sarcasm. Compliment the Chef. Enjoy.}, and put on some piano music {okay, so there may have been a little Bryan Adams mixed in too}. 

It. Was. Wonderful. 

I highly recommend trying this at least once and, if you can swing it, keeping it up once a month. It's cheaper to stay in. You can hone your culinary skills. You have an excuse to cook "fancy" food your kid may not be able to enjoy. You get to reconnect with the love of your life. Why not?!

In case you were wondering... this night was made possibly by Ina Garten's recipes from her Barefoot in Paris cookbook. Scallops Provencal, green beans with roasted red onion and peppers, garlic mashed potatoes, and Meringues Chantilly. All recipes were simple and DeLicIoUs!!!