All Things New

{This is a continuation of my marriage testimony. Earlier chapters can be found here: The Rescuer and The Aftermath. Blessings, M}

{One more note - I decided to let go of fear and just present this openly. This topic isn't something I'm completely comfortable discussing but God pressed this two-part post on my heart a couple of weeks ago and hasn't let me ignore it. Please remember that your story is different from mine, and I'm speaking from my personal experience and addressing wives in general. I pray that what I say doesn't shame or condemn, but shares grace and hope and encouragement!}

After the affair, our already troubled intimate relationship screeched to a halt. I locked the door behind me when I got dressed in the morning. I shied away from even casual physical contact. We may have been sleeping in the same bed, but there was no flirtation or romance there. Healthy sex always requires trust, and I felt betrayed in every way possible.

As we progressed in our recovery, our roommate set up got more and more awkward. We were slowly mending the torn places in our friendship, and moving back into a God/Husband/Wife covenant relationship. We were talking about intimacy constantly, but physically...I was still pretty freaked out, to be honest. I was just so hurt that he had shared that experience with someone else. And since we're doing real talk today (eek!) I was intimidated. What if she was better than me? That was a LIE whispered by the enemy, by the way. A husband and wife are bound together in every way possible and that's what makes intimacy in marriage so amazing. No one else gets to experience that.

Restless night after night in my bed, I longed and looked for my soul's true love;
I searched for him, but I could not find him.
I will get up now and search the city, wander up and down streets and plazas;
I will look for my soul's true love.
I searched for him, but I could not find him.
The watchmen found me as they kept watch on the silent city.
"Have you seen my soul's true love?" I asked.
Not long after I left them, I found him - I found my soul's true love.
Song of Solomon 3:1-4 The Voice translation

I vividly remember the day I knew I could trust him again. But even that realization scared me. And it surprised us both, I think. We had been fighting each other and the enemy for so long. We were scarred, scared, and weary. This was the scariest step in our healing process. The restoration of our intimate relationship was like a new beginning. Yes, the baggage and pain and struggle remained, but not for long. He makes all things new.

"I will not cause pain without allowing something new to be born," says the LORD.
Isaiah 66:9 NCV

I can't finish this post until I tell you something I've learned. Believe me, I tried. I was all done typing and about to publish this, but I just have to say one more thing: Yes, marriage - and sex - is spiritual and reflects the beautiful, mysterious, sacred relationship between Christ and the Church. But you know what else? It's fun. It's something you and your husband can do that doesn't require talking (which is a relief for both of us sometimes). It's something special and secret for just the two of you. It's healing. It's reassuring. It's close. As I've said, marriage is more than just a physical relationship. But at the same time, the physical part of marriage is so important. Don't discount the power of sex when it comes to winning the heart of your husband and protecting your marriage.

I am so grateful that I chose forgiveness. Today, my marriage brings me such joy. The beauty of a soul that is secure in love is dazzling. I see that light in my husband, our children, and me. We are free to proclaim life and freedom and joy. It took some painful demolition, but rebuilding our lives, the right way this time, was the best thing that ever happened to me. I would never have chosen it, but God has used this journey to heal my soul.

For all things are for your sakes, so that the grace which is spreading to more and more people may cause the giving of thanks to abound to the glory of God.
Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison...
2 Corinthians 4:15-17

While the specifics look different for everyone, we are all equally called to forgive. Whether you are in a troubled marriage, a rebuilding marriage, a ho-hum marriage, an awesome marriage, or even had a marriage end, forgiveness is essential no matter what. I wrote about forgiveness here and I have a feeling I will be writing more soon. However tired you are, give yourself and those around you - especially your husband - grace. And cling tight to Him. Drink deep from the limitless fountain the Holy Spirit longs to pour into your soul. No darkness or pain could exhaust it. He will never fail you.

Taste and See

I wonder if anyone else out there is just overwhelmed with the goodness of our God? I can speak casually of his goodness all day long, some days with more oomph than others. Then there are times when I stand in slack-jawed amazement. Today is one of those days.

In case you are wondering, or even possibly getting a bit envious, no, everything in my life is not rosy. There is uncertainty, brokenness, busyness, and baggage. But no circumstance or measure of hardship--or maybe in your case, heartbreak--affects his goodness. Aren't you glad? It's certainly easier to believe at some times more than others. Did you know that more often than not (according to my very quick research) when a psalmist is declaring the goodness of God it is either preceded by or precedes a cry of distress or remembrance of hardship? Here are a few examples:

• Psalm 25
• vs. 8 - "Good and upright is the LORD; therefore he instructs sinners in the way."
• vs. 16 - "Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted."
•  Psalm 34
• vs. 8 - "Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him!"
• vs. 18 - "The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit."
• Psalm 69
• vs. 16 - "Answer me, O LORD, for your steadfast love is good; according to your abundant mercy, turn to me."
• vs. 17 - "Hide not your face from your servant; for I am in distress; make haste to answer me."
• Psalm 86
• vs. 5 - "For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving, abounding in steadfast love to all who call upon you."
• vs. 1 - "Incline your ear, O LORD, and answer me, for I am poor and needy."
• Psalm 107
• vs. 1, 9 - "Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever!...For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things."
• vs. - "Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, whom he has redeemed from trouble."

His goodness is our hope and our healing, our deliverance and our daily bread, our comfort, our sanity, our solid rock. And you better believe it is also our joy, our satisfaction, and a reason to sing.

I have been so abundantly blessed. (No thanks to me! "Every good and perfect gift is from above"-James 1:17) I have asked God for so many things--material, relational, spiritual--and he has gone above and beyond. But the joy is not in those things or people or opportunities, even though they are good things that do bring joy to my life. What brings me to my knees with my jaw on the floor and tears of gratitude stinging my eyes is my good God. 

I wonder if he has been good to you? I know he has, because you woke up this morning with breath in your lungs. And maybe in this season of life the fact that you lived to see another day is the only good thing you feel you can declare, because sometimes life is so painful and not good. But today, will you join me in declaring His goodness? Psalm 147:1 says, "Praise the LORD! For it is good to sing praises to our God; for it is pleasant, and a song of praise is fitting." I woke up today wanting to sing him a song. I'd love for us to sing together, but due to the screen between us that would be rather difficult. I would love for you to leave a comment, though. How has he been good to you? You can sing your comment to him if you'd like. After all, it is fitting.

"They shall pour forth the fame of your abundant goodness and shall sing aloud of your righteousness."

Psalm 145:7

Every Season

photo cred

Fall is my favorite time of year. I love everything about it. There are aspects of each season that I enjoy, but none make me giddy like Fall. From the cooler weather to pumpkin everything, and from boots and scarves to Thanksgiving, what's not to love? But without a doubt, my favorite part is the trees. Vibrant reds, blinding yellows and golds, and toasty oranges take my breath away every year. I've been known to hop in my car and drive towards the country in search of the winning display of color. Granted, I live in Houston, where green is the predominant color year-round. But there are bursts of color to be seen, and this nature girl appreciates every tiny brush stroke. One day I will drive through the Blue Ridge mountains in the fall (my bucket list is simple), but for this life season I will enjoy my apartment's tiny porch, the yellow vine woven through "my" trees, and the whoosh of traffic that I pretend is the sound of the ocean.

There is a joy that accompanies finding place and peace in the midst of life's traffic. It may look different for you. Mine looks like the sun peeking through branches, illuminating a delicate, silky web I hadn't noticed a few feet in front of me. It sounds like a strong breeze rushing through the leaves, and a Brown Thrasher foraging its way through the crunchy underbrush in search of its next meal. My soul can breath even here in this urban wilderness.

Seasons are curious things, aren't they? The part that puts a smile on my face and a spring in my step will eventually make me sad. The same way a "hello" always means a "goodbye." Call me sappy if you will, but as the yellows and reds fall to cover the green earth I can't help but mourn for the naked trees. (Maybe I need a support group.) But there is beauty even in death, you see. The cleaner branches provide a clearer view to watch the crimson Cardinal that is chirping at me. He doesn't know he's part of my background music. Maybe it's about perspective. Or acceptance (not complacency...there's a difference). Choosing to dwell on the good. Death is occurring, yes, but it's a necessary death that gives way to life. The trees must shed the old to make way for the new. The crisp brown leaves on the ground serve as a warm blanket, insulating the seeds that have also fallen. Because the seeds are protected from the frost, they will spring up as flowers and young trees in the months and years to come.

There is a comforting rhythm to seasons. They speak of a Creator who is consistently faithful...one who knows that this earth and these people can only stand so many days of triple-digit temperatures. And as He blows the leaves off of the trees, He graciously blows through my heart and kindly declares, "This part needs to die. But don't despair; I am making all things new." And when springtime comes, and it always does, He whispers to the seed He has been covering and tending, "Grow." And when we see the fragile green sprig that has pushed its way up through the soil, we marvel at its strength and thank God for all seasons past, and every season yet to come.

A Prayer

Jesus, I confess that I have a prideful heart. Forgive me for forgetting that I need you. I need you so desperately. But sometimes I think I can do it all on my own. I have often left my manna sitting outside my tent and gone hunting instead. Forgive my ungrateful spirit.

It should be no surprise that I feel distant from you. I've been angry and frustrated that I'm not hearing from you. I haven't wanted to spend time with you.

But you are with me...

I see in this moment that there is beauty in the struggle. Struggle means there is life and breath. The greater danger is numbness and lethargy. The unrest in my heart is a grace. A battle can be a good thing and right now my flesh and my spirit are warring over my faith. Thank you for not letting me stay complacent in my self-sufficiency. Thank you that I am seeing now how much I need you. Keep showing me. But please be gentle with me, as you are so faithful to be.

Thank you for your patience...allowing me to work out my salvation. You are working it out in me (Philippians 2:12-13). Help me fight. Remind me to put on your armor every day. When I step out the door without my shield I am defenseless against the fiery darts of the Accuser. Guard my mind. Strengthen my faith.

Forgive me also for my short-sightedness. When I attempt to live by my own strength, my gaze turns inward. Like a horse with blinders on, I am unaware of the world around me. My petty cravings and discomforts infect my mind. I lose sight of the Kingdom. It becomes "my will be done, not thine." If the Kingdom is a green, fertile land with rich soil waiting to be tilled and grain ready for harvesting, then my short-sighted territory of self-sufficiency is a parched desert. Step after step on hard packed earth and no water in sight.

It is lonely there.

I feel defenseless and seek protection in houses built on sand. I have let myself become swallowed up in one of those sinking frames.

So God I confess my deep desire for the approval, applause, and acceptance of man. I lay my insecurity before you. There was a time when I rested in your steadfast love. Help me to take back that piece of ground the enemy has stolen from me (Psalm 44:5). Seeking man's approval does not please you. It distorts my thinking and leaves me feeling less-than. Which leads to more striving. It's a toxic, pointless cycle. And I'm done.

I repent. You are enough. Fill this specific cavern with your truth. Truth frees.

Thank you for your perfect love. Thank you for hearing my prayers and responding. God, you are a refuge for me. You are a refuge. A safe place. A trustworthy haven. Oh, that I might know you, LORD! Let me press on to know you. You will respond to me as surely as the arrival of dawn or the coming of rain in early spring (Hosea 6:3). All glory to YOU.

Let it be.

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; 

my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, 

as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. 

So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. 

Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. 

Psalm 62:1-4 

The Aftermath

{If you missed the first chapter of my story, find it here: Beautiful Things: The Rescuer. Blessings, M}

When Dane knocked on the door that cold and rainy night, I was shocked. I didn't think he'd ever come back. Nervously I opened the door to find a shattered man. Physically, he was freezing and soaked. Emotionally he was exhausted, guilty, and hurt. Spiritually...he was in the darkest place he'd ever found himself. My heart broke, when I didn't think I had anything left to break. I silently moved aside as he entered our home...a place that was no longer a haven, but ground zero.

We didn't talk much that first night.

The next morning was Sunday. Easter Sunday. I asked Dane if he wanted to go to church. He did. As we sat down together, looking very much like a happy newlywed couple, I sadly realized we'd been faking it for a long time. With each other, our friends, even God. But that morning, my heart ripped open, raw and bleeding, I was more alive than ever before. My desperation for rescuing made my very soul ache. Jesus's sacrifice had never seemed so real. He knows what it's like to be wounded.

That weekend, we decided that we weren't giving up.

The implosion of my marriage wasn't spontaneous - it was the result  of two people living for themselves. Rebuilding wasn't simple. There was so much damage in so many areas that we worked slowly, carefully setting things to rights. I remember one evening, as we returned home after a particularly rough counseling session, I told Dane to go ahead inside without me. He obliged (possibly grateful for a few minutes away from his über-emotional wife). After he left, a dam that had been straining against a flood of anger and pain broke. As I sobbed out my frustration and disappointment, I asked the question I had been wanting to ask for weeks. "Please, can't I just leave him?" 

"No."

Well. That got my attention. I'd never heard God speak before.

I had a decision to make: was I going to go through the motions and meet my husband halfway, or could I let go of my self and my expectations and my pride...and give not fifty, but one hundred percent of myself to our relationship?

The next day I sunk into our couch with my coffee and my Bible to continue my study of Romans. I found a verse that has become a part of who I am:

"Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts." Romans 5:3-5

I had a decision to make. I could let this suffering, this intense pain of betrayal and rejection teach me, or I could let it define me. By Grace alone, I chose to learn. Because even though I didn't trust my husband, I trusted God. For some reason, He had allowed this to be part of my story.

Over the next year, Dane and I allowed God to redeem our marriage. A lot of people have asked me what that actually looked like. We went to 6 weeks of intense marriage counseling. We attended Family Life's Weekend to Remember, which I heartily recommended for ANY couple - newlywed, oldlywed, healthy, unhealthy - in fact I'd love to attend again now that we're not a hot mess. We joined a life group. We spent hours conversing honestly with our best friends (love you James and Lynne!). We dove into Scripture. We spent hours talking about tough stuff, but also about fun, silly stuff. Basically...we got real.

Slowly, Dane rebuilt my demolished trust. We fixed the foundation - the fundamental issues that allowed our relationship to crack and crumble so quickly - and started over. I realize this isn't a revolutionary concept, but until I lived it, I didn't get it: marriage isn't about me. It's not about my husband either. It's about God using two imperfect people to demonstrate perfect love, and to bring Him glory. I wish that we had known that in the beginning, but looking back, I'm thankful that where we were broken, we are strong. Where there was confusion and anger, we have peace. Where I despaired, there is joy. 

Hope does not disappoint...

The Rescuer

A few months ago, Dane and I publicly shared our marriage testimony for the first time. His journey from his darkest moment to being forgiven and free is my favorite story of all time. We are who we are because he allowed God to save us. But as I always say, it is never 100% one person's fault. It can be 99.9% someone's fault, but there is always enough sin to go around. I want to tell you about my portion.

The day before my wedding, I felt so prepared. Dane and I had been friends for years and during our engagement attended marriage classes and premarital counseling. We had survived a car wreck and unsupportive parents. We had even gone on a mission trip together. Obviously this marriage thing was going to be easy. We'd be naturals.

As a nineteen year old bride, I was expecting Prince Charming. Dane was chivalrous, funny, and romantic. I thought he was perfect.

As someone who desperately needed rescuing - out of a bad family situation, out of depression and an eating disorder, out of an addiction to pleasing people - I found Dane to be solid and safe. So I married him. Not just because I loved him, but because I needed him. (Well, it wasn't him I needed, but I didn't know that yet.)

We threw ourselves into careers and college. When we weren't in class or working, we blew our money at restaurants, theaters, and on, well, stuff. We church hopped a little, but often we'd skip it. Many times have we looked back on that first year and marveled at our immaturity and selfishness. 

Even though we were obviously marriage experts (someone needs to invent a sarcasm font) we fell into bad habits. Our most serious problem was my shrinking faith in Dane's leadership. If you've ever read Love and Respect by Dr. Emerson Eggerichs, you can probably imagine what our relationship looked like. In a nutshell, we were in a crazy cycle of disrespect and unloving behavior. Any time Dane made a mistake - no, any time he was less than absolutely perfect - I flipped out. Eventually I started tightening control and shutting him out to avoid being disappointed again. The expectation of perfection was, I'm sure, suffocating to Dane.

This all happened our first year of marriage. How quickly we fell.

Unless the LORD builds the house,
They labor in vain who build it
Psalm 127:1

After our first anniversary, he started acting more withdrawn and was away a lot. I started to worry, and for a few months I ignored and denied it. It all imploded Easter weekend 2007.

I heard that our former church was doing a Maundy Thursday service. Anyone who knows me knows I love Easter traditions, and this was irresistible. I invited Dane to go with me, but wasn't surprised when he said no. So I went alone. I sat in the front, and for the first time in a long time, opened my heart and listened. I already knew I was a mess, but that evening I realized it was because I had quietly replaced Jesus with an imperfect husband, material c-r-a-p, and above all: my self. No wonder I was miserable. No wonder I was disappointed. No wonder Dane never measured up.

But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.
Ephesians 2:13

And He is before all things, and in Him all things consist. And He is the head of the body, the church, who is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in all things He may have the preeminence.
Colossians 1:17-18

My priorities were upside down, and so was my life. My flawed foundation was finally crumbling, and my whole life was on the precipice of destruction. I needed to be rescued again - this time for real, this time for keeps, this time by Someone who really was perfect.

I'll close this with the video my church produced in order to share our story. I have so much to share about the aftermath and the good years that have followed. But for now, today, here is the story of how we almost lost everything - our life together and our faith. 

Dane & Melissa's Story from The MET Church on Vimeo.

Creation Cries Out

Have you ever prayed for someone you didn't know? Most of us probably have. Your friend's sick nephew, your neighbor's great aunt, the person being loaded into the ambulance as you drive past an accident. Just because they're strangers doesn't mean we can't whisper a prayer for them. Have you ever committed to intercede for a stranger, though? I'm guessing not as many hands are raised. About a month ago my church had a gathering for women in our community. We learned from a powerful Bible teacher and worshipped together as one Body. At the end of the night we also had the opportunity to take a card with a girl's name on it...a girl who has been (most likely) forced into prostitution. She is a slave, a victim of sex trafficking. The commitment was to pray "For Her" for thirty days. I'm not sure whose idea it was to find these girls' names, but it made all the difference for me. Mya, age 21. Funny how a name can instantly make someone less of a statistic and more of a person. 

I first prayed for Mya on my way home that night. In that moment she became my sister, my niece, my best friend...she represented all the girls I know. If not for the grace of God, it could've been any of them. It could've been me. Over the next few weeks I learned how to pray for her. I would wake up suddenly in the middle of the night (not a normal occurrence for me) and pray, knowing that she was probably working.

At the end of thirty days (about a week ago), a small group of us gathered on a living room floor to pray together, sing, and thank God for what he had done and will do. There was no set agenda. We didn't need one. The Holy Spirit was in our midst and we simply followed his leading. Someone would say, "Let's pray about this right now," or "Let's talk about this for a minute," or "We need to get on our knees right now and pray for this." We shared dreams and visions and scriptures we believe the Lord gave us for our girls about their freedom and our responsibility. We prayed with faith, believing that our God is all-powerful and he hears us and he desires justice. We also confessed our disbelief because some days it was just plain hard. The task before us seemed too daunting, to dark. But we know that Jesus is the Father of Light and we pray to HIM. So we praised him anyway. My level of belief doesn't determine his worthiness of praise. Sometimes there are no words left, no more tears to cry, and the only way your head could possibly be lifted is by His tender hand underneath your chin. Could Mya even recognize such a loving gesture? I don't know how anyone could live a life like Mya's without eventually becoming numb. It's a defense mechanism, a way to stop feeling when the only feelings left are pain and desperation. I pray God gives Mya the courage to keep feeling so that she can feel the difference between a hand intended to harm and His hand intended to rescue. And I keep praising through my tears which I now recognize as grace.

My prayer as we concluded the evening was that Jesus would encourage us with good news before the night was over. Let us see a tangible victory. Only I didn't hear of any girls being rescued that evening. There were no news stories on twitter that another trafficker had received a sentencing. Honestly, by morning I had forgotten about my prayer.

If you were to ask me my favorite of God's attributes I would probably have a different answer every time. This week my answer comes easily: He's personal. He has known my name and Mya's name since before the foundation of the world. And because he is personal he hears our cries and he responds to us! There are girls all around the world who's every breath cries out for rescue. They may not even know it's Jesus that they want, but He created us to long for oneness with Him. When he created the Garden of Eden he never intended for Man to fall and the world to be overrun with evil. He knew it would happen but it was not his desire for us. We were created to live in communion with our Creator.

Sin gets in the way, though, doesn't it? I'm selfish and when I take my eyes off of Jesus I focus on petty desires and I'm fearful and long for things of this earth. With my gaze turned inward I sometimes feel that maybe He's not so personal after all. When I'm believing that lie, I don't want to pray and I surely don't want to praise. I lock my eyes on my insecurities until they become faith-slaying giants and I'm paralyzed with fear and a sense of isolation.

He knows that the way to recapture my attention and restore communion is to show himself to be profoundly personal. I don't know how God reveals himself to you, but for me it's usually through nature. In Luke 19:40 Jesus says, "I tell you, if these [disciples] were silent, the very stones would cry out." No less than five times this week, when I could feel myself succumbing to fear God used the skies to remind me who he is. From a stunning sunset to a lightening storm behind the veil of a billowing cloud to a full rainbow reaching across the horizon. I took them all personally.

If we truly believe that we serve a God who hears his creation and responds, then for crying out loud, let's bring our faith to our prayers! If I dwell on the issue of human trafficking and think about all 27 million (can you wrap your mind around that number?) people who are enslaved around the world, it's daunting. When our twitter feed or television delivers more stories of rape and injustice than it does of rescues and raids, the temptation to give up is often very real. How vital it is, then, to fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. (Hebrews 12:2) Because we can't just do nothing while his creation cries out for rescue.

The prayer I forgot about, the one where I asked for a tangible victory? He answered me that night and I didn't even know it. I found out yesterday that at the very hour we were praying on that living room floor, a brothel here in Houston was raided. I'm still in awe. Praise you, Jesus. I came across Isaiah 65:24 this morning: "Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear." Amen. He delivers.

We have a responsibility, Church. I say this with all the tenderness I can muster, because I am speaking it mainly to myself: We have to step up and fight. We are in a war for souls. I'm not just talking about sex trafficking, although that is currently at the forefront of my mind. There are plenty of causes. Pick one. But for goodness sake, wearing a promotional t-shirt is only going to accomplish so much. (I'm not bashing the idea. I love my EndIt Movement shirt.) But all the awareness in the world is not a substitute for action. Action probably looks different for you than it does for me. We have different gifts and passions and resources. So let's leverage our diversity for the kingdom. And let's cover every single step with bold, faithFULL (not faithless), prayer.

He hears.

"For the kingdom of God is not a matter of talk but of power."

1 Corinthians 4:20

***If you would like to get involved in the fight against trafficking, you can join the "For Her" Facebook page. Also, Elijah Rising is hosting the Justice Summit this weekend. Details here.

Y'all, right after I finished typing this post I saw via the A21 Campaign on Instagram that a 23 year-old man was rescued from sex slavery today. It's not just for girls. Thank you Jesus, for the reminder, and for your deliverance!

A Full Reward: Part II

Here is the second half of what I wrote at the beginning of the summer. Read Part I here.

PART II

I’m convinced that one of the ways God keeps me humble is by taking my carefully organized plans, running them through a shredder, recycling the paper (God is not wasteful, you know), and drawing up entirely new blueprints. He never ceases to surprise me. Case in point: I thoroughly expected to be in the Tyler, TX area for four or five years. After that, we would move to Longview with our two (maybe three by then) perfect children and raise our family in Mayberry East Texas, accents and all. When my “second family” moved to the area, it just sealed the deal. They had lived across the country for two years, and now I was never again letting them out of my sight.

Would you like me to help you plug in that shredder, God?

Rewind a little. At the beginning of the year we both sensed that God was moving us. We weren’t sure where, but we were pretty convinced it was Longview. And since that fit in with my plan (Ahead of schedule! Great!), we began to pursue it. We had made some wonderful friends where we were and we loved our house, but we were just feeling unsettled. So Ryan began applying at schools in the Longview area. After several weeks without so much as a nibble, we let the line rest and decided to discuss our options. Keep in mind, this is the first time we were both seeking God together on a major life decision.

One evening we began talking about church. After three years of marriage we still hadn’t found a church home. We attended church wherever we lived, and had even become bona-fide members of a local Baptist church. We had a Sunday school class. I volunteered in a toddler class at AWANA. Ryan served in the youth group at a neighboring church on Wednesday nights. But we never really planted. And it was killing me. Suddenly I had a thought. I truly believe God placed it in my head. I told Ryan, “I think we’ve been approaching this job thing the wrong way. What if we found a church first, then looked for a job?”

Duh. Why did it take three years to figure that out?

I told Ryan that for several months I had felt a connection with a church I had never attended. It was a new church, and I had only attended a women’s event and listened to a few podcasts. But I knew a few incredible people that called it home, and could see the impact this church was having on families and the community. Jesus liked this church. And I wanted to be a part of it. We were supposed to be a part of it. The only problem? It was in Houston.

All through college and the first two years of our marriage I had been ready to dash back to my roots as soon as the opportunity arose. Can you hear the paper shredding? About a year ago I changed my mind. I had fallen in love with East Texas. I love the way people talk, the cow pastures I pass on the way to Wal-Mart, how the entire town travels with the football team on Friday nights, and the slower pace of life. I really was okay not living in Houston. I wanted to be where I was. Bloom where I was planted, that sort of thing. But this church…I just couldn’t get it out of my mind or off of my heart.

Ryan, who was born and raised in Northeast Texas and was itching for a change of scenery, promptly applied to approximately 47 Houston-area schools. Okay, maybe 8. Or 9. Time to sit back and wait for the phone to ring. And it did. From a school in Longview. Of course, we weren’t going to pass up the interview, but I admit, I was completely confused (and even a bit upset) when they offered Ryan the job on the spot. Wasn’t God pleased with how we were looking for a church first? Didn’t he want us at the amazing one in Houston? Six months earlier, a job in LV would have been a dream come true. I would once again be near my “second family”, cheering for my boys (players and coach) on the sidelines on Friday nights. Rainbows and roses. It was ours for the taking.

I needed clear direction, and fast. I just wanted to make the right decision. I wanted to do what God wanted us to do. While praying and fasting one Wednesday morning, I told God that if He wanted us in Houston, one of those 47 schools needed to call Ryan in for an interview. By Friday. (I was specific.)

God doesn’t mess around. He knows our hearts better than we do, because He created us. He knows when I’m pretending, when my motives aren’t pure, and when I legitimately want to please Him. My earnest prayer that Wednesday was that God would know my heart and would test me to see if there was any offensive way in me. I was willing to shred my own plans, if you will. I think this is what the Bible is talking about in Psalm 37 when it says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” My desire was (is!) to please Him. May that always ring true in my heart.

Thursday, the phone rang again. An interview was set up at College Park High School in The Woodlands for the following Monday. I was blown away. I had never even heard of that school, but we both knew it was the one. There have definitely been days where I’ve told myself we’re morons for turning down the job in LV. I get nervous about living in the city again, dealing with traffic, the cost of living, a new job, etc. I miss the cow pastures and my one-red-light town and my friends and I haven’t even packed a box yet. Then I think of our new church and I am filled with peace and deep contentment. After the first visit on Easter weekend, before Ryan even had an interview, we felt at home.

I am overcome with thankfulness and humility that Jesus is allowing us to become a part of this House. He doesn’t need us there. But He will use us if we’re willing. I am so excited about getting plugged in and serving that I can hardly stand it. I am hungry for a church that is on fire in their love for Jesus and His people. And these people aren’t playing games. Someone described it the other night by saying, “We are very awake.” They are on a mission. I can see it on their faces and in their worship and feel it in their hugs. They just want to love God more and love people into the Kingdom. I feel so inadequate to be a part of that, but really, we all are. We’re all imperfect brothers and sisters who strive and fall and lift up and encourage. We all have pasts and pride and weaknesses and brokenness. But we are madly in love with a God who restores and humbles and equips and heals and breathes life into dry bones and loves us unconditionally. He is our very life. And He grants us the immense blessing of doing life together and in communion with Him and for Him. It’s all for Him. He is so faithful and good and worthy.

I am giddy thinking about all that is yet to come. This is just the beginning of our new adventure. How will he grow us in the days, months, and years ahead? All I want is to be more like Him and to love Him wildly. I pray that is Ryan’s desire as well. We move into our new home on June 30. There is another blessing. We were getting so discouraged with housing options, but yesterday God dropped the perfect place in our laps. He went above and beyond our expectations. When we left the leasing office I wanted to cry and sing and shout. I was in awe of his goodness and flat-out kindness. He is just so nice to me, and He doesn’t have to be!

Jesus, thank you. Those words sound so pitiful and trite, but you know my heart. I love you so much. Thank you for loving me and for saving me. You are the wildest ride of my life. Help me to love you more…in a way that is not even natural, so that I can only give you credit for it. Please, please give me a heart of humility. Help me to remember where you brought me from, so that I don’t forget. You are bringing me into a good land. I want to take possession of it. I don’t want to miss one single thing. Jesus, I am overwhelmed by your faithfulness. Mold me into the woman you want me to be. I’m here. Use me, shape me. Make me BOLD for you. Thank you in advance for what you are going to do. You who began a good work in me will see it to completion. I love you so. Let it be.

“Faith is not the clinging to a shrine, but an endless pilgrimage of the heart. Audacious longing, burning songs, and impulse overwhelming the heart, usurping the mind—these are all a drive towards serving Him who rings our hearts like a bell.”                                                                        -Abraham Joshua Heschel

A Full Reward: Part I

As much as I don’t like to admit it, I’ve always been one of those people that feels like I don’t have much of a testimony. I was raised in church, my parents never split up, and my most rebellious act in high school was pulling the “I’m 18 and you can’t stop me” card when I wanted to get my cartilage pierced. No, really. I am far from perfect and have plenty of regrets, but the story of how I accepted Jesus as my Savior probably won’t make anyone grab the tissues. I know that my “easy” life is evidence of God’s grace, and I am so thankful that I didn’t have to learn everything the hard way. However, only in the past year have I really felt like I had a story worth sharing. [This was not really the case. It was a cop out.] You see, I’ve realized that a person’s testimony is SO much more than the events and choices leading up to the moment they walk down a church aisle and pray a prayer. Yes, that’s where it starts…but the story doesn’t end there. It’s only the beginning for those who are in Christ. He is always renewing, redeeming, writing my story. YOUR story. My testimony will be different two years from now and ten years from then because Jesus’ work is not done.

            So, for now, here’s what God’s been up to.

(The following was written on May 26, 2013 as a journal entry. I had no intended audience, and the idea of a blog had not crossed my mind. I’ve tweaked some of the wording and directed it towards you, the reader I never planned on having.)

PART I

Need to get my thoughts out. I am so overwhelmed right now, but I think it’s all good. God is so good to me. So I think mainly I’m overwhelmed with His goodness, His kindness…with thankfulness. At the same time I feel so far from where I want to be. So much growing still to come. I just want to be found faithful. Yet I find myself praying the same prayers over and over again. Same failures. Same hopes. Same doubts. I suppose that’s how it goes. How would we ever understand or appreciate His “new mercies” if we got everything right the first time?

I guess I should probably document somewhere what all has been going on in our lives over the last several months. It could make for some fun reading ten or fifty years down the road. This could come as a shock to some of you (or not), but my marriage was on the brink of disaster for a while. I was never really intentional about anything in my marriage until a few months ago. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t what I thought it would be, and I was hurt as a result of certain choices. So why try? Let’s just live our lives under the same roof, but as two completely independent individuals. Suffice to say there was never really a “honeymoon phase” for us.

And it’s always two-sided. Yes, I was hurt. Lied to. Not loved the way Christ loves the church, as I fully expected to be. But let’s be honest: It can’t all be up to the man. I was flat-out ugly to my husband for a long time. I had zero respect for him and I didn’t trust him. To me, saying my actions were justified isn’t a valid argument (even though that’s the argument I used for 3 solid years). I am always responsible for my actions before God. But I could change my husband! I just knew I could! (And if not, I could get a new one! I could still live my dream life! I was so deceived.) What an exhausting, futile task.

And up until January 2013, that’s what I was: Exhausted. I was tired of fighting. Tired of keeping all of my anger and bitterness so deep down inside of me that I was beginning to not even recognize myself. Because that’s what anger and bitterness do. They eat you alive, until anything resembling a redeemed child of God is so gnawed to bits, it’s not worth restoring. At least that’s what I let the enemy tell me. But God, my Redeemer, Restorer, Healer, and Pursuer didn’t think so. But I wasn’t really interested in knowing what He thought. At least not in that area of my life. The most tiring part of it all was the pretending part. Only a few people who love me dearly and unconditionally could tell that everything wasn’t rainbows and roses. I can be a good actress. A great one. I can put a positive spin on anything, smile, and change the subject. Or avoid it all together. But three years of pretense wore me out.

On January 6, 2013 I told my husband that I couldn’t do it anymore. He was one of the ones who had believed my little act. When I told him that I had thought of leaving him, I think he came close to having a heart attack. That probably wasn’t the best way to handle things, but it did get his attention. You see, the thing about holding in three years of anger and hurt is that when it all comes to the surface, it doesn’t just seep out slowly. It explodes. Like a volcano. Words spewed out of my mouth like hot lava and when I was done erupting all I could see was the ash that had settled. I knew it was over. But my God is in the business of making beauty from ashes.

God wouldn’t let me leave. And at the end of the day, I really didn’t want to. I still wanted a strong, healthy, intimate, God-honoring marriage. I just didn’t believe it was possible with my current husband. But my God is faithful. (That’s my word for 2013…faithful.)

I really do believe that God can take anything (read: anything) we go through and use it for His glory and purpose. If He can’t, then He’s not God. 

I love my husband, and he loves me. Things are still not always rainbows and roses, but seriously, whose marriage is? God is rebuilding what had been torn down. But instead of building it on shaky expectations and two very imperfect humans, it’s being built on Christ the Cornerstone. He is healing my hurt. He is showing me that He is everything I need. Everything. Husbands are wonderful, but they are not God. How unfair (to both of us) to treat any man as my all in all. It’s a recipe for disaster.

2012 was a life-changing year for me spiritually. Jesus pulled me out of a pit of apathy in which I had become quite comfortable and miserable at the same time. He filled my heart with His light and His Word and I gladly threw away my shovel. During a specific women’s ministry weekend in January and a six-week Bible study from January to March, the Bible came alive to me. That’s the only way I know how to describe it. For the first time in my memory I wanted Jesus for myself, and I could. not. get. enough. I soaked up scripture like a sponge. I literally exclaimed one day while studying Deuteronomy, “Where has this been all my life?!” I will always look back on that year with fondness, humility, and thankfulness. There is no going back.

But people can have more than one pit at a time. Even though I was finding my spiritual footing, my marriage was free-falling. And let me tell you, the incongruence was flat out frustrating. Now (May 2013), I am hardly close to having it all together. But my God is faithful. He has pulled me out of yet another pit (this was a pit of deception, despair, and stubbornness) and set my feet on solid ground. I feel like my life can move forward. My husband is beside me, and our God goes before and behind us.

It’s incredible how things change when both people in a marriage are seeking God. We are submitted (and re-submitted…daily) to His will. Honestly, we’re just plain nicer to each other now. We are both growing individually and together. Conversations are taking place that I had decided would probably never happen. I don’t want to take any of it for granted. I am so scared of slacking off, forgetting, and ending up in the same, dark pit as before without even realizing it until I smack the cold, hard bottom. I want to remember where we were six short months ago. Regression is as sly as a fox, and oh so dangerous. 2 John, verse 8 warns: “Watch yourselves, so that you may not lose what we have worked for, but may win a full reward.” Jesus, please keep me humble. I do not for one second want to steal your glory. You have brought us so far. We want the full reward. (Deut. 8)

For three years I was held captive by bitterness, anger, and hurt. I had a death grip on “my plan”. But Jesus has set me free! He is faithful. Oh, that I would walk daily in His freedom, and not as one who is still in shackles. Jesus brought me out. Deuteronomy 6:23 tells me that, “He brought us out from there that he might bring us in and give us the land that he swore to give to our fathers.”

And does He ever deliver.

The First Step

{source}

Someone recently asked me how long it takes to forgive, and what that process is like. She wanted to know if what she was experiencing in her darkest, most painful time was normal.

I've forgiven a lot in my life. 

"To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you." - C. S. Lewis

It's not an expertise I would have chosen, but I do know how to forgive. I learned the hard way (as usual). My friend was hurt deeply by someone she trusted, and wants to save the relationship, but is still reeling from the sting of unfaithfulness and deception.

I told her this: when you are hurt, seemingly beyond repair, there is hope. There is always hope.

Forgiveness is a decision. It's not an emotion (although sometimes it's extremely emotional) and it's not something that can be done halfway. I've seen partial forgiveness, or "conditional" forgiveness, destroy people. Unforgiveness poisons the healing process with bitterness, mistrust, and vengeance. "Relationships are built on trust" and I can tell you it's impossible to trust someone you haven't forgiven. I decided to forgive my husband six years ago. It didn't lessen the pain of betrayal or make me any less grief-stricken or angry. But it gave me hope. It made a future together seem possible again. It released me from the false responsibility of punishing him. It freed me from being a victim.

Forgiveness is a decision. Sometimes a relationship is damaged beyond repair - the hurt is too deep, the sin against you too grave. Or perhaps worst of all, you are the only one who wants reconciliation. But unforgiveness will only make that chasm, which already aches, collapse into your very soul and cling tight. Sometimes healing isn't about fixing a relationship. Sometimes the hope is that after we walk through fire, we choose forgiveness that keeps our scars from defining us.

"I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear." - Martin Luthor King, Jr

Forgiveness is a decision. Healing is a journey. And forgiveness is the first step. (Watch out, it's a doozy.)

So, when you want to forgive but aren't feeling it....what then? A broken heart hurts - sometimes it physically hurts - and causes anger and suspicion and grief. And it's ok to feel those emotions. Honestly it be a little weird if you didn't! But what I've learned is that I can't trust my emotions. What I can trust is the truth: there is always, always hope. Hope always follows after forgiveness.

Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us. Romans 5:3-5

Make the decision, and be free. A free soul, once healed, will be strong enough to trust and love again.

"Write This Down."

{The Story} by Bethany

It all started at the beach.

Melissa and I had traveled to Panama City Beach as youth sponsors for church camp. Halfway through the week we took our Bibles and our coffee down to the shore for our scheduled quiet time. Many words have been used to describe the beach: Soothing, relaxing, calm, musical. But those words don’t really capture the feeling of digging your toes into the white powder, smelling (and tasting) the salty air, peering across the navy blue sea trying to see where it ends, and hearing those powerful waves crash consistently on the shore line. All of your senses are engaged and it feels like you are sitting before a private symphony. An involved spectator.

For a while we sat in silence, alternating between reading Scripture and watching a rainstorm. We watched a giant cloud get heavier and darker until it burst at one end, then in the middle, and all the way to the other end until it had emptied itself. Any other setting probably would have offered an obstructed view. A tree or building or even a mountain could have concealed one end of the cloud. But since it was over the ocean, we got to watch the whole show.

Eventually we began talking about camp, relationships, marriage, and life. I honestly don’t remember much of the content, but at some point I decided to share with Melissa something I had written about six weeks earlier. It was a testimony of sorts, the story of God’s grace in my life over the past several months. I told her how when I had shared it with my closest friend and mentor, she had spoken something over me. She told me that I was going to write someday, and probably teach. It may be books or Bible studies, but she was convinced that I am going to write to women in some capacity. I responded with something like, “Ok. Sure…thanks.” Little did I know, Melissa’s friend and ministry leader had once spoken something very similar over Melissa. We chuckled at the irony. Then Melissa said, “Do you want to start a blog?” Um, yes. We briefly discussed content possibilities, and got pretty excited. We could take turns posting. What would the name be? Who would it be for? After a minute it was time to go inside for the evening session.

The Spirit was heavy during the music portion of the service. I wasn’t thinking about the blog until the band started playing “Beautiful Things” by Gungor. The chorus simply says,

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us.

The lyrics are beautiful and true and such a representation of what God has done in both my life and Melissa’s. When I sat down after the song, I leaned over and whispered to Melissa, “That would be a good title for a blog. Beautiful things.” I had no idea that she had prayed God would give us a title for the blog (before leaving camp!) as confirmation that the idea was from Him. She had been about to suggest the same thing! She described it later by saying that the Holy Spirit smacked us both upside the head simultaneously. We instantly began bawling and laughing, unable to decide which emotion was going to win. People were a little embarrassed for us, I think, as we were causing quite a scene. But Jesus had just spoken to us both and confirmed that this was no trite idea, but a vision straight from His mind to ours. So there it was. Beautiful Things.

The only word I can use to describe this time is overwhelming. I have no idea what will come of this blog, how long it will last, or if it will develop into any kind of face-to-face ministry. We don’t want to move unless God moves. We don’t want it to ever become an outlet for creativity or a place to indulge the flesh. “Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.” (Ps 127:1) May it be always, only ALL for Him.

{Revelation 21} by Melissa

After we returned from the beach, Bethany and I began to develop our answer to this word we received. First and most importantly, we got our husbands' blessings, since their stories are intertwined with ours. Next, we sought out advice and prayer from the two women who had whispered the words you're a writer over us individually, years apart, but who "happen" to be sister-friends. (I don't believe in coincidence, by the way...)

Finally, after a week of prayer and discussion, we sat down with our Bibles and mugs of coffee in front of my home computer, and asked each other, "Ok, how do we start a blog?" After an hour of overthinking and dead ends, we prayed and I opened my Bible to the passage that inspired Gungor's song "Beautiful Things:" Revelation 21.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear for their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.

And he who was seated on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new." Also He said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true." And he said to me, "It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment. The one who conquers will have this heritage, and I will be his God and he will be my son."

At first, we thought we'd start a little blog to write about our marriage testimonies. As we talked and prayed, the vision grew. Then Revelation 21 blew it up. We felt an eternal purpose for the first time since "Beautiful Things" was born. God rescued me and made me new and there's more to come.

As Bethany and I share our stories, our intent is to stand as witnesses that God's faithfulness never fails. He is Redeemer. He is Healer. He has eradicated the old things in my life, and He has made me new. No area was left untouched: my marriage, my personal baggage from childhood, the way I parent, even the fundamental purpose of my life was changed. And that is a story that needs telling.

The Spirit and the Bride say, "Come." And let the one who hears say, "Come." And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price. {Revelation 22:17}