Ramble | Confession | Hope

For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.Through him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name. (from Hebrews 13) 

 I'm wrestling with this. A lot.

Because when I don't feel God I don't know how to love Him. How screwed up is that?

I have had a serious struggle with my attitude lately (cursed irony). This pregnancy has brought a whole host of irritable, overly sensitive emotions which are directed at the bullseye on my husband about 99% of the time. {The remaining 1% aimed at commercials, RJ, programs and occasionally other people} It is not only super frustrating, it's sinful. My heart toward Gabe has been so cold because of my perspective.

This is not to say that I am never warranted by normal standards to be hurt, but that when those warrants come I am already gunning for the guy. Heels dug, fists clenched, gloves off.

I confess these things because recently as my stellar attitude came to a head, I learned that I have been letting my emotions dictate my actions. When I am upset I don't smile. I don't play. I don't get enjoyment out of watching RJ do something new (well, I do get a little). I don't grab his hand or touch his back when I walk by. I don't do those things because in my mind that is called pretending and I am too old for make believe. I come to believe that Gabe no longer cares about me. When I feel like our marriage sucks I act like our marriage sucks.

But does our marriage really suck? I have insecurities (some of which have nothing to do with Gabe's actions, but are totally placed on him), but when I step back and look at our marriage what do I see? I see an incredible man who has loved me through my least lovable phases. I see persistence in his forgiveness and grace. I see provision and affection. I see changes in myself that wouldn't be possible without his influence. I see a good marriage.

This revelation in my marriage is showing me a serious issue in my relationship with God as well. When I don't feel close to God I drown in the same insecurities. I battle with the idea that He is done with me. Usually I don't fight very hard.

But what do I see when I look at my life with God? I see a God who has loved me through my least lovable phases. I see persistence in his forgiveness and grace. I see provision and deep affection. I see changes in myself that are absolutely, completely impossible without Him. I see a good marriage. I see Hope.

So I'm wrestling. As I try to offer a sacrifice of praise whose motive is to please HIM and not get back the feelings I miss. As I acknowledge the name of the God who has loved me, loved my child, loved my husband in intimate, memorable ways. I'm wrestling with what it looks like day-to-day to love and serve and cherish and adore the God I can't make myself feel close to. And I pray - and trust with reason, not with passion - that this God will provide me a rest from my struggle and fulfill the longing I have for intimacy with Him. When it's right. When I'm able to receive it.

A Night at the Box Office

Last night we saw Anna Karenina at the movies for our 7th year anniversary date. Aside from the fact that it was a visual and artistic masterpiece, we were just completely taken with the story.

This is the part where I admit I haven't read the book. I started it, but like so many potential reads, I did not get far before I put it down for life to happen and never picked it up again.

So I didn't really know what to expect. I knew there was something about adultery in it (and to be honest, that always made me a little weary of watching/reading it; I'm sick of the romanticized whoredom our culture is so obsessed with). And I knew it was set in Imperial Russia. That's pretty much it.

So if you're unfamiliar with it, I won't ruin anything for you (but you should at least go see the movie). Gabe and I were really affected by it. We spent over an hour talking about it after we left the theater and we realized that what was so striking was actually the Gospel covered in 19th century fashion and splattered over salacious dialogue.

Beauty for Ashes

I don't know why God doesn't always step in and fix the things that are broken.

I don't know why people who knew the Lord get divorced.

I don't know why children die.

I don't know why prayers go unanswered and mountains aren't moved.

Kindness and Severity

The Lord descended in the cloud and stood with him there, and proclaimed the name of the Lord. The Lord passed before him and proclaimed, “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands,forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the children's children, to the third and the fourth generation.” And Moses quickly bowed his head toward the earth and worshiped. And he said, “If now I have found favor in your sight, O Lord, please let the Lord go in the midst of us, for it is a stiff-necked people, and pardon our iniquity and our sin, and take us for your inheritance.”

And he said, “Behold, I am making a covenant. Before all your people I will do marvels, such as have not been created in all the earth or in any nation. And all the people among whom you are shall see the work of the Lord, for it is an awesome thing that I will do with you."

 (From Exodus 34 (ESV))

I read this passage a while ago and it was at the same time completely amazing and eerily troubling. On the one hand God says plainly that He is exactly who we believe He is. He is forgiving and steadfast and faithful. We know those things are true. We can see it all over the Bible and we can recount our own testifying experiences. 

Yet on the other hand and presented as just as true, God says that He doesn't pardon the guilty. That He will let children and grandchildren suffer for their father's sin. 

This sounds very harsh... But when I consider it further it is a deep comfort. Because He does forgive the guilty who repent and as my husband reminded me, He does allow us to rise above the sin that we inherit from our fathers. But He is also just. And we need a just God.

We need a God who does not let the wicked prevail.

We need a God who defeats His enemies.

We need a God who will defend us from the crooked, who will guard us from sin.

Iniquity travels. It is the natural course of morality (which affects spirituality) that our poor choices negatively impact our children. Our very poor choices impact our grandchildren. Our extremely poor choices can ruin our families for generations. A man who abuses his wife teaches his sons to abuse their wives and so on. A man who abandons his family leaves his children with a lasting scar that carries into all kinds of bad decisions on their parts. A man who squanders the family fortune catapults them into poverty and leaves future generations who would otherwise be taken care of to fend for themselves.

And yet we can rise above our circumstance. God is gracious and mighty and He sees our hearts, not just our heritage. Gabe is a godly man despite the great sins of his father (and at least in part because of the righteousness of his mother). As Gabe also reminded me while we were chewing on this together, a big part of the good news that Jesus brought us is that we are no longer tied to our families, we are adopted into God's family. We who were orphans now have a Father. We who were broken have now been restored. We who were destitute have means beyond means. 

I am so grateful for a God who makes Himself known. I'm grateful for His grace and His justice. 

Note then the kindness and the severity of God: severity toward those who have fallen, but God's kindness to you,provided you continue in his kindness. Otherwise you too will be cut off.

(Romans 11:22)

The Danger of Encountering God

I'm just going to say it: I'm afraid to meet God.

Those words kind of sting. I was raised a Christian - a real one, not a we-go-to-church-on-Sunday-with-a-hangover Christian. As a kid I knew Jesus. He was my best friend, my hero. As I got older I learned about my own sin and how much I needed His friendship.

And as an adult I crashed into Him in a candle-lit apartment after being raked through my own degenerate mind with merciless brutality. Satan and I had quite the tango going before God cut in. I'm not being cute. I was a pitiful mess and I can say with confidence that God met me on the carpet. He was gentle and He was strong. He gave me hope and light and peace without which I could die. I truly believe that. I could be dead.

"Children are brave!"

Yes, I watch The View. Moving on.

I don't know that I have heard such a clear and honest articulation of childhood. Children are brave. Any mother who has watched her baby take those first trepidatious steps can attest to his fortitude. Determined with his shaky, unreliable feet he fixes his attention, puts his fear behind him and walks. Falls. And invariably, at some point, tries again. Adults don't usually have that courage. Children are on their own in a big and mysterious world.

I love watching RJ explore. She takes delight in things that to me have lost their luster. This morning she was dancing and laughing at her wire hanger percussion and I was blessed with a peek into Wonder. That is just one of the gifts she gives me daily. Because she is an Explorer. On par with Lewis & Clark, she is discovering a completely unknown land. She has adventures in kitchen hideaways and toilet bowls. She scales mountains of armchairs and pillows. She boldly approaches the Wild Beast with an unreasonable hope that he will, for the first time, enjoy her company as much as she enjoys his. She is a Pioneer. She is charting territory for her future brothers and sisters (and I think she will be a great Expedition Leader).

And one day she will leave. I also love Jamie Lee's declaration of independence for our children. Our culture is so intent on keeping the young young that so often parents fail to raise adults. And she is so right: if we do our jobs, separation will be mutually beneficial and anticipated. As much as I thoroughly enjoy every second we get to spend with her, RJ is somebody's wife in the making. She is in her education for motherhood.

I expect to be heartbroken when she moves away and starts her family (or does something else as the Lord wills), but in the best possible way. A shifting paradigm is never a smooth ordeal, but I so look forward to watching her use all we are able to teach her and learn from her as she navigates this life with her own RJ flair. I pray and trust {well, working on the trust} that she will not depart from the Truth. That: my children loving God when they are out of my nest, will be my deepest joy in parenthood.

And I will not shield my brave little ones from this: it will take courage.

Mom Moments

When RJ is snug in her bed and the night is winding down, I have the honor of putting our well loved home back in order. I pick up her brightly colored toys and stack them neatly near the wall. I clear the sink and sweep the crumbs from the counters. I toss and fluff throw pillows to their homes on the couches and I grab bits of garbage or laundry during my final walk through.

I love the thought of RJ hearing me wash dishes. I can remember my mom doing her gifts of service every night; it made me feel comfortable and safe. I would wake up to a cleared kitchen and folded laundry. The floors would be clean and ready for another day of wear. No matter what transpired the day before, our home was a clean slate every morning. 

It makes me think of that verse:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

 As RJ grows I hope to relay that character trait of God to her. I hope to give her the grace He so generously gives me and let her rest in the home He allows me to make for her. A home of mercy. I hope that my patience and love for my children is new every morning and that I will remember constantly to enjoy these little blessings while they are still young.

And I hope that I will take joy every evening, when my babies are snug and the night is quieting, in picking up the brightly colored reminders of God's favor and wiping off remnants of His abundance from the countertops.

"Every Good and Perfect Gift Comes from Above"

I miss him. That has not changed.

The "rule" I discovered about his departure bringing minor calamities has proven true as well. RJ got splinters all over the bottom of her feet (and she won't let me remove them), a big diaper rash suddenly formed, Gabe's laptop just wouldn't turn on so we couldn't use that to communicate, Raychel has bled for the first time from a fall... and then repeated it twice more...

5 Minute Friday | Identity

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. Please visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments.

I am constantly finding myself in a battle for identity. Am I a mother? Yes. A wife? I believe so. A daughter, sister, friend? Last time I checked. But my identity is more than those things. It defines me. One word. Christ. 

When I was a kid I learned about Jesus and I loved him. I didn't need any favors or see my need of salvation, I just thought he was wonderful. When I grew up and I realized that I not only loved him, wanted him, but needed him I decided that giving myself over to him was a necessary and desirable action. But it wasn't a one time deal. My identity is that I'm his. I'm not mine, I've been bought with a high price. I'm not Gabe's. I'm not Raychel's. I'm Jesus'. 

It's waning and it's fuzzy. I keep trying to take my life back from him and he doesn't promise not to let me. But when I think about identity I think about the God who has made me his bride and the King whose slave I get to be. Daily. I have to decide this daily. 

Pain in Childbearing

Giving birth is daunting.

"To the woman he said, 'I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing; in pain you shall bring forth children.'" {Genesis 3:16}

It was physically the most exhausting work I have ever endured. It was the most emotionally draining. It was the least pleasurable experience of my life. It was by far the most painful.

Yet here she is. "In pain you shall bring forth children." In pain you shall bring forth Raychel Joye. For all intents and purposes, God told me well ahead of time that the daughter I so desired would not come to be without suffering.

I suffered. She is worth it.

Body Image

I stumbled across a support website about women's bodies recently. Along the same thread of thought that provoked my first post on beauty, I am inspired to think and write about how we view our bodies. Bear with me as I work through my thoughts with a keyboard.

The female body is sensual. God designed men to be inherently attracted to its curves and motion. There is decent reasoning behind some cultures' decision to cover their women up in loose-fitting garments and probably better reasoning behind the sex industry covering very little. Our creator knew what he was doing when he came up with the template for our bodies. They are meant to be enjoyed {within a marriage} for their aesthetic qualities.

Raychel Joye's Dedication

Emmaus Baby!

Last Sunday was Raychel's baby dedication. It's the first at Emmaus so I am kind of stoked that she is now the official Emmaus Baby. :P

For us, a dedication it is a public acknowledgment that our daughter is a gift. One which we fully intend on giving back to the Giver (i.e.: God). It's an act of consecration and solidarity. We know that we will fail in a million ways, but we commit to do our best to raise her up not only to know the Lord, but to follow Him.

From Black-and-White to Color

Gabe asked me today how it felt after Raychel was born to not have her in my tummy anymore. It was odd, but not in the way I thought it would be. It felt like my stomach wasn't mine. I had become so used to Baby Berry making it her home that I no longer thought of it as just "my" belly. When she was gone I remember not feeling confident that I could stand up straight or really do anything involving my abdominal muscles because I think I did not feel I had control over them anymore.

Anyway, I'm sure you really wanted to know all that. What it then brought me to was the pre-RJ mindset. Because we didn't know her gender I didn't feel like I fully "knew" her. Obviously I adored her, but she was still a huge mystery to me. I remember how I would wonder about her and how my imagination had to stop quite short of her full glory. I'm sure every mother feels this way, but it was made more so by the fact that I wasn't even sure what to call her.