Two years ago today, we said goodbye-for-now to my sweet Grandma. She was ready to leave this earth, but she is so missed. I've thought of her a lot over these past few months. I take a long time to process big changes. This morning, I'm sad that my newest baby won't know her Great-Grandma this side of heaven. The morning after we laid Grandma to rest, we departed for our much-anticipated trip to Germany with my parents and brother. Since we were on a once in a lifetime trip, I took tons of pictures. It is strange to have that first week of processing documented so thoroughly. After the above photo was taken in the courtyard of Neuschwanstein Castle, we went back to our hotel and I cried myself to sleep. I remember how exhausted I felt, after spending three days in the hospital saying goodbye, helping plan a funeral for the first time, an overseas flight with three small kids...and trying to balance it all with enjoying the beautiful trip my dad had blessed us with.
Later in the trip, I posted this on instagram with the caption, "Today I was happy and sad." My pastor's wife told me, "Just keep riding the grief wave and enjoy the happy when it comes." I've often thought of what she said. It comes in waves - grief - and in all different forms: shock, heartbreak, yearning, anger, exhaustion, humor, frustration, numbness, rawness. All you can do is hold fast. And when you begin to slip, ask for help. "From the ends of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I." Psalm 61
Since I've last updated this blog, my family walked through a fairly difficult several months. My husband wrecked his motorcycle the week before I gave birth to our fourth baby, he was off work for two months, then developed a very painful case of shingles (at age 30!). During all of that we dealt with normal daily life issues...a broken oven, an emergency root canal, a physically painful third trimester. I was in desperate need of a break. One evening, when our busy house was finally quiet and tidy after a long day of noise and mess, I got to thinking and praying...and decided to make a stand on what I know. Circumstances are wild and shifty and unfaithful. The truth is all I have anyway. I shared this on my instagram that night, and I keep coming back to it.
If nothing else, this season of physical affliction has proven this true for us. We have bruised bones and fresh scars, labor pain and sleepless nights, a savings account that's been hit with crisis after crisis, news headlines that scream condemnation and fear, and now viral nerve pain and exhaustion. How ironic and probably not-coincidental is it that I've been saturated in Psalm 107 for months? "LORD, help!" they cried in their trouble, and he rescued them from their distress. Let them praise the LORD for his great love and for the wonderful things he has done for them. Rescue: He did, He is, He will.
Stranger, glancing at my three daughters and then pointing at my belly: "Is it a boy?" Me: "We aren't finding out, so we'll see!" Stranger: "I'm betting boy. God wouldn't be so cruel."
This really happened. I actually receive similar remarks often, usually in earshot of my precious children...who were handpicked by God to be GIRLS, to be our DAUGHTERS, and to be SISTERS. If anyone has ever wondered if we had 2, 3, or now 4 children to "get our boy" I assure you that our only motivation was obedience to the Lord's plan and our ridiculous love for our current children. This would still be true if we had a gaggle of boys, had at least one of each genders, had experienced infertility, if the Lord had told us to adopt before having biological children, etc etc etc.
By the way, I exercised self-control and gently told this stranger that my girls are wonderful and we wouldn't change a thing. And afterwards I whispered to each of them, "Mommy and Daddy are so lucky to have you girls."
Moms (and dads)...delight in your children, whoever and however they are. Because the world is going to tell our kids that they are disappointing, that their worth is in what they have to offer, that they need to fit in a mold, that they should try harder...that they aren't enough.
These lies are so powerful because they twist this truth: we really aren't good enough.
BUT.
When Jesus is our Savior and Lord, we get to take on His identity. And He is so completely good enough.
God has united you with Christ Jesus. For our benefit God made him to be wisdom itself. Christ made us right with God; he made us pure and holy, and he freed us from sin. (1 Corinthians 1:30)
I'm praying this over my children tonight:
I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. (Ephesians 3:14-19)
In America, race relations are so broken it has garnered worldwide concern. 125,000 unborn babies are ripped from wombs each day. One of our top presidential candidates has mercilessly attacked the most vulnerable in our society, over and over.
In my hometown of Cypress, Texas this weekend, a sheriff's deputy was murdered execution-style as he was pumping gas.
Overseas, a pastor is in chains for Christ. Thousands of refugees are dying or enslaved.
Hate or silence is the language of today.
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 1 Corinthians 13
What is to be done? This attack is huge: crisis after crisis, scandal upon riot upon genocide. It is sickening. Frightening.
No one is ignorant, and therefore every one of us is responsible. You know where the counter-attack starts? In our own hearts. Seriously. It doesn't require a lot of savvy or money or fame.
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails.
1 Corinthians 13
The battle fires have been lit. Now is the time to take up the banner of LIFE and LOVE. Find your field - every person has a sphere of influence - and go to work. Work hard. Work passionate. Work brave.
Because.
Black lives matter.
Police lives matter.
Immigrant lives matter.
Unborn lives matter.
Mothers lives matter.
Yazidi lives matter.
LIVES matter.
The picture at the top of this post is from the National Geographic 2014 Photo Contest. It was taken in Kalapana, Hawaii, where active lava flows into the ocean. If I was standing before a moving wall of molten rock, I know I'd be afraid. I'd know I couldn't stop it. In fact, the only thing that could stop that lava is the ocean. A vast, limitless supply of cold Pacific water extinguishes the fire as it crashes into the steady and wild deep. This attack on humanity is big, but it's not larger than LIFE. We have a steady and wild God, with a limitless supply of relentless love, mercy, and peace that can extinguish any onslaught of fiery evil.
Don't give up. Don't stay silent. Because I promise you this: LOVE WINS.
I can't wait to meet you! You are squirming around in my tummy like you do every day...so active. In about six weeks I'll be able to see the faces you're making as you stretch your little arms. I wonder what you look like. Do you have your daddy's olive skin and brown eyes? Or will you have blue eyes like the other Money girls? I bet you have dark brown hair.
You will be beautiful.
You already are.
I saw a passage this morning from Psalm 139. I've read it since I was a child, but it struck me fresh today.
"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my informed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them." (Psalm 139:13-16)
Jesus sees you, Little One. Do you see Him? Does He sing you to sleep and rock you when you need to be calmed? He knows you better than I ever will. He loves you far more than I or your daddy ever can. Nothing will ever make Him stop loving you. I pray that you love Him with all of your heart, mind, soul, and strength.
You are going to be strong, because He will be your strength. You will be brave, because Jesus will never leave you. As much as I want to keep you safe forever, God never called us to live safe lives. He is our safety. So go with Him, wherever that may be. He will teach me how to let you go. You're His anyway.
I can't believe I have the honor of being your mommy. I've wanted to be a mom for as long as I can remember. You are my biggest dream come true. I'm not going to do everything right; I'm going to make mistakes every day. We will have to exchange grace often. People say that parents know what's best for their children, but I think sometimes we're just clueless. Thank God He really does know what's best for you. I want to be a good example for you of what it looks like to seek Him and His best. I need Jesus so badly. His ways are perfect.
I can't wait to see how creative He was with you. What quirks will you have? Will you be talkative or pensive? Will you like dolls or bugs or both? Will you love being outdoors? WIll you have your daddy's athletic ability? None of these things are good or bad, but they are or aren't placed within you for a reason. That reason is for God's great glory. Period. So find out how to use whatever combination of gifts, abilities, personality traits that He gave you to bring Him glory, and you will never live a life of purposelessness. Love Him, love others...it's what you were created to do.
As I write this I am sitting in the rocking chair in your (adorable) room. Soon I will be rocking with you in my arms. I will stroke your soft skin and smell your newborn head and memorize every little wrinkle in your tiny hands. We'll have good conversations in this chair. You may scream a lot in this chair. We will probably cry here together. I have no illusions in my head that this mothering thing will be easy. It will be harder than anything else I'll ever do. But that doesn't change the truth behind these words I've just written. As I hold you, Jesus will hold me. He's got this. He really does make beautiful things.
I love you in ways I can't even say, Riley Jane. See you soon.
Forgive me for picking up what I've already laid down at your feet.
That's a prayer I've been mulling over for months now.
Fear and anger and pain grip the heart and can choke it to death. Why do we hold on to poison? No, not hold on to it, we go way beyond that, don't we? I open my heart and carve out a home for it there. I wrap it around myself like a shroud. It becomes my identity inside and out.
Fear and anger don't stay in manageable little compartments. They breech their borders and seep into every area of life, until they can't be contained by one wounded soul anymore...that's when I lash out. Some people internalize it, some people carry it openly. Either way it kills.
Sometimes I notice it, or someone points it out to me, so I lay it down.
I pick it up again. It's contradictory, but true: we don't have the strength to lay down our hurt and walk away. It's too heavy to let go.
I can’t sing. Not beautifully anyway. The only musical performance you’ll ever hear from me is my nightly rendition of my two year old’s favorites. We snuggle into the glider that has rocked all of my babies, and she requests How Great Thou Art, Amazing Grace, and My Favorite Things (always in that order).
I am not gifted with an amazing vocal range or an ear for pitch.
I share my story. Over the last couple of years, God has built a fire in my heart to testify to what He has done. It started out as a bank of coals, and the more He breathed into my life the higher the flame. It’s undeniable now.
That’s how I sing.
Come and hear, all who fear God,
And I will tell of what He has done for my soul.
I cried to Him with my mouth,
And He was extolled with my tongue,
If I regard wickedness in my heart,
The Lord will not hear;
But certainly God has heard;
He has given heed to the voice of my prayer.
Blessed be God,
Who has not turned away my prayer
Nor His lovingkindness from me.
{Psalm 66:16-20}
A little over a year ago, my husband and I gave our testimony publically for the first time. {Video here, see also The Rescuer and The Aftermath} It was challenging, exhilarating, and a little scary to share that part of our lives with so many people. Ever since, the power of that redemptive chapter in our story has echoed everywhere we go. Even in our home, revisiting that time in our marriage in such detail was difficult, but it added more healing and closure to an already firm foundation of forgiveness.
Every time I feel like God has completed a work in me, He finds another layer to restore.
My family is currently recovering from a season of heartbreaking change. It seems like we experienced every negative symptom that accompanies upheaval - stress, strife, depression, feeling lost -- and were at our breaking point when we finally found relief.
It’s been a solid six months since I felt like myself (hence the radio silence here at Beautiful Things).
A month ago our church held a meeting to pray specifically for revival and healing. I took my two oldest daughters, who both have an autoimmune disease, intending to have them anointed and prayed over. I can’t put into words exactly what I was expecting, since any change in their condition would be a miracle. A small part of my heart whispered maybe…
We met in a beautiful historic firehouse and gathered in rows of circles around the band. We worshiped and prayed, worshiped and prayed, worshiped and prayed. We asked for revival. We claimed our city and its people for Jesus. And then we turned our focus to seeking healing.
God gave me a word through my pastor that I’ll never forget. As the invitation for people needing physical healing unfolded, I was undone:
“If you have a health issue that you think no one cares about…
...Or maybe you know someone who needs healing and you need to stand for them…
...Maybe you got a diagnosis, and received that diagnosis like a curse…”
By this time I was literally crumpled on the floor. I’m pretty sure a stranger held my hand. It was bad, in the best way possible.
Sometimes being relieved of a burden you’ve carried for a long time knocks you down. The fear of my children dying had gripped my soul tight for over a year, and letting go of that curse was incredibly scary and painful. And I was so sad to realize that I hadn’t been trusting Jesus with my kids. As if I could love them better than their Creator and Savior.
That night changed everything. My kids weren’t miraculously healed (although we’re still believing that God can and will physically heal them) but their sweet little 6 and 4 year old foreheads were anointed and blessed and affirmed. And I’m telling you: God changed me. I’m not afraid anymore. He’s brought me to a place of safety and peace that I never imagined possible. Like I said, we don't have the strength to lay down our hurt. Only Jesus can. But He is kind and good and will take it as soon as you let Him.
I want a life full of wild hope and unbridled joy - and I think I’m finally starting to taste it.
"My Lighthouse" Rend Collective In my wrestling and in my doubts
I (Bethany) wrote this as a guest post on my church's blog this week and decided to post it here as well.
This past Saturday I spontaneously decided to attend a seminar put on by Free the Captives, a Houston-based non-profit organization that fights human trafficking. I like conferences, workshops, seminars, etc., but honestly, I was not looking forward to this one. I love that the people of Bayou City Fellowship have such a heart for the nations, including our own soil. There is a great longing in many of our hears to see human trafficking abolished in Houston and the world, and brave warriors are fighting that battle daily. I heard and saw things (we were shown a video of a reverse sting at a hotel) on Saturday that I'd like to forget. The passion of each speaker was evident, the information was helpful, and the stories were moving. We celebrated victories. But the day was very heavy, as I expected it to be. I was reminded of Ephesians 6:12: "For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness." What do we do about that? How do we fight the "cosmic darkness"? Dare we try? Oh yes, brothers and sisters, we must. And take heart: "The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds." (2 Cor. 10:4) I left the conference a little early, but not before hearing a powerful word about how we are to do battle. Leigh Kohler is no stranger to many of you. She is on the board of As Our Own and was the final speaker I heard on Saturday. Her topic: The Power of Prayer in the Fight Against Human Trafficking. Prayer, as Leigh pointed out, is part of our inheritance as saints. It is anything but a worldly weapon. I have thinking a lot lately about the relationship between prayer and faith. They are inseparable. This may sound like an elementary principle, but it's been revolutionary for me. Looking back (not very far), when my faith has been weak, I have been prayerless. Lately I have been asking God for an explosion of faith, and I've recently realized that one of the fruits of faith is prayer! Faith is believing God. When we know who God is and we believe what He says, we pray differently. And when we see Him answer our prayers, our faith is strengthened. Do you see the cycle? We serve a God who chooses to be affected by our prayers. Let's not waste our time debating how or why He does...let's get on with it! Do you want to see girls rescued from trafficking? Pray! Do you want your husband or wife or kids to know Jesus? Pray. Do you want your faith to be strengthened? Are you aching for revival? PRAY. THIS is how we do battle. Every battle.
"And that about wraps it up. God is strong, and he wants you strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so you will be able to stand up to everything the Devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels.
Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it’s all over but the shouting you’ll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You’ll need them throughout your life. God’s Word is an indispensable weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long."
{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.
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."
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.
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 goodthing 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.
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...
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.
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 committedto 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!
