Category Archives: Husband

Taking the Trash Out {When You Want the Flame to Grow Brighter} {Day 23}

I am not sure where things got lost, but they did. They were sucked off in the current like so much beautiful foliage, unnecessary frill and beauty and yet, at the same time, so needful.

I don’t know how it happened, but somewhere along the way we lost one another. We forgot what it was to hold gently the love between us, to cup it sacred and holy.

We forgot that only love is to be made in that marriage bed, not coldness, contempt and distance.

When I shew those birds away, something in me was loosed. God reminds me I have the power within–all of His power–to chase the darkness away.

When I stood there, under all of that black beating away in morning light, I felt it–the miracle of His light, His peace, His soothing and wooing of my heart.

I said I would love him when he walks in the door, and I know it, that even if things don’t go quite right, that Peace is with me, and I do–I love this man.

When he walks in, I tell him I have something to show him. He isn’t as excited as I thought he’d be, and my feelings are hurt. And I get upset again. He leaves for the store, and by the time he returns, we are both ready to stop all our foolishness. And this isn’t the first time we’ve been here. We step over all the trash we’ve thrown at one another, wade through the murky waters to get to one another.

It feels a little awkward that way, but it’s very necessary. That’s love.

Hollywood has given us the wrong idea of what love is. Love isn’t running up majestic mountain-tops or swimming across sparkling seas for those we love–it isn’t even a 2-story home in a gated neighborhood and 2.5 kids, everything perfect and sparkling. Those metaphors will never define love.

They don’t tell you that kind of love quickly dies, and you are left with the ashes of what once was. They don’t tell you that you have to let it smolder, and you have to apply force to it, rub it in continuous motion,  hold it gently and tightly in your hands, breathe holy on it with all your might, never let that love go out, and it’s an acquired skill that takes time–years. You have to sustain it, and when you can’t anymore–you go to the One who can.

It needs a constant kindling effort to make it grow into a flame.

And that flame can only get brighter as my Love and I get older.

In all my woman glory, I give the trash the boot–again–and it sits at the curb where it belongs.

He looks at me when I walk into the bedroom, water dripping from my hair down my back, and I shut the door because I know. He pulls me into him and I shudder at the love between us.

“Marriage is more than your love for each other.

It has a higher power, for it is God’s holy ordinance, through which he wills to perpetuate the human race until the end of time.
In your love you see only your two selves in the world, but in marriage you are a link in the chain of the generations, which God causes to come and to pass away to his glory, and calls into his kingdom.
In your love you see only the heaven of your own happiness, but in marriage you are placed at a post of responsibility towards the world and mankind.
Your love is your own private possession, but marriage is more than something personal—it is a status, an office. Just as it is the crown, and not merely the will to rule, that makes the king, so it is marriage, and not merely your love for each other, that joins you together in the sight of God and man.
…so love comes from you, but marriage from above, from God. As high as God is above man, so high are the sanctity, the rights, and the promise of love. It is not your love that sustains the marriage, but from now on, the marriage that sustains your love.”
(Excerpt from a wedding sermon, written May 1943 from prison by Dietrich Bonhoeffer.)

Some resources I would recommend for marriage: Sacred Marriage by Gary Thomas  {which I am delving into again now}

Ann Voskamp recommends resources for marriage here, some of these I plan to read very soon…

**This post shared with Husband’s permission, and I hope you will join me, friends, as I continue to write on marriage this week. God is leading my heart there, whispering to me, wooing me….

Linking up with: Ann, Jennifer, Eileen, ShandaJolene, Hazel, and WFW ….

Also linking up with The Nester, and all the other 31-Dayers.…This ought to be one wild, brave ride…

Do you struggle with fear– of him leaving, of marriage not turning out quite like you thought? Do you have a hard time giving the trash the boot–wading through the junk to get to one another? Please tell me your story? Have you seen God redeem these fears in your marriage? Have you found grace? Your comments so encourage me. I draw strength from your kind words and knowing you were here. My faith walk is seasoned with the right ingredients when you hang around…


This is one post in a series of 31 days of Fear. You can find the entire 31 Day collective here. {I’ve jumped from Day 12 to Day 22 because I want to finish this series at the end of the month & this gal started late}

I hope you will come with me on this journey–to get a taste of glorious redemption as I soul-search and look for Jesus smack-dab in the middle of my fears. And Jesus sits with sinners. I won’t have to look very far.

I pray God gives me the strength and the courage to complete 31 days–y’all, it’s going to be hard on this ‘ol gal to write every.single.day. Pray for me?   

Some other 31 Day collectives I’m loving: Shelly @ Redemptions BeautyAmber Haines , and Lisa-Jo

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When You Fear The Ember Going Out: A Love Letter {Day 13}

On Fridays, I join the community with Lisa-Jo Baker and write for five minutes with a one-word prompt, without editing, backtracking, or over-thinking. It’s so freeing to write like I’m soaring! Here goes…

GO.

                                                                                                 

Look at me, Lover.
Naked before you, I have no pretenses.
My hair, matted from not brushing
You are the only one who sees me in all my imperfect glory
Look at me, longingly
Look at me and see me loving you so fiercely
It hurts
Dive into my eyes and enter into my soul
Feel the fire that burns there for you
Look at me and see the ember burning,
waving it’s slow dance in the cold night
Fan the flames, Lover, and make them blaze
Higher, ever higher, hotter until it’s all consuming
Look at me, unclothed before you,
not one strip of pride left
Not one patch of selfishness covering me
I’ve undone it all for you
Free-fall into me, Lover,
and learn of the joy and ecstasy that
waits for you there in my bosom
Cling to me, Lover, for dear life
Look at me, Lover, and let’s not forget
how it felt when we first found one another,
that first time we clung in the night
to never let go

                                                                                                     photo credit


STOP.

Today’s one-word prompt was LOOK.

Writing like this is so freeing, friend! Would you like to join the writing flash mob? Follow this link to Lisa-Jo’s…

Five Minute Friday

 

Also linking up with The Nester, and all the other 31-Dayers.…This ought to be one wild, brave ride…

Do you struggle with fear– of the love not being there, of the ember fading? Please tell me your story? Have you seen God redeem these fears in your marriage? Have you found grace? Your comments so encourage me. I draw strength from your kind words and knowing you were here. My faith walk is seasoned with the right ingredients when you hang around…


This is one post in a series of 31 days of Fear. You can find the entire 31 Day collective here. {I’ve jumped from Day 12 to Day 22 because I want to finish this series at the end of the month & this gal started late}

I hope you will come with me on this journey–to get a taste of glorious redemption as I soul-search and look for Jesus smack-dab in the middle of my fears. And Jesus sits with sinners. I won’t have to look very far.

I pray God gives me the strength and the courage to complete 31 days–y’all, it’s going to be hard on this ‘ol gal to write every.single.day. Pray for me?   

Some other 31 Day collectives I’m loving: Shelly @ Redemptions BeautyAmber Haines , and Lisa-Jo

Fear {Guest Post by Elizabeth Marshall} {Day 10}



I don’t even want for fear to have its own title, headline, place in bold, upfront in this series.

I want nothing to do with fear, for I have given enough space and time and energy to it already.

Writing about it is even painful.

But isn’t that giving in. Letting fear sap energy. Tremble knees. Shake confidence. Rattle senses. Muss up the mind.

Isn’t fear numbing and paralyzing when it gets any room in a life.

It is greedy and boorish. Demanding and a bully. It saps Joy, drains the good, pulls the plug and lets hope rush down the drain like dirty bath water filled with bubbles of maybe.

Just maybe writing of fear, restores Hope. Writing of fear and meeting it head on pushes it back, meets it head on, faces it down.

Fear has erased days and bound me up. It has named seasons. It has defined seasons of  unknowing, of infertility and waiting years to add children to a family, by birth and adoption.

It has crippled in seasons of waiting for a husband to return, after a season of separation, marked the days dark and long. Tried to wrangle all life out of the days of healing, to rename me the one whose husband left.
Fear says failure and brokenness rather than Hope and Security.

Fear takes the good plans of God for redemption and restoration and leaves you frozen in unknowing, hopeless, hope dwindling and the self demanding an answer now, the self commanding and controlling outcomes.

Fear robs the days left with a child at home, when the self chooses to demand to know the future, and it demands to know it will be labeled good by the world’s standards, good by the description of the self-focused soul.

Fear teams up with frozen and frightened and steals the hours and days of a life with a power that is unbroken, but for Jesus.

When healing and His redemptive love restore a Hopeful, Trusting Heart, the fire of fear is doused and diminished. And the pile of ashes is blown anew with a Spirit of new-life and radiant restorative re-birth.

The days of waiting on children’s birth, marriages restored and even financial struggles to end are marked by a wholeness from leaning hard into Him and softening the stone-cold places that fear and trembling have made tough as a frozen tundra. Made life-less.

Anxiety and worry have fueled enough days, with OCD re-routing a life ,bound it up in chains, set the heart on a new gear worthy of a NASCAR winner. Chased me round and round,  like a pack of rapid dogs. Spun me round, dizzy, like a child on a playground whirly gig until nausea and fatigue take the weary spirit to the ground.

Fear fuels the tongue and raises the volume and chooses the words. Takes control when control feels lost. Shouts orders demands her way. Raises the blood pressure, raises the stakes, reddens the face, and raises the roof.

Who wins when fear is in charge and shouts at the top of her fearful lungs and blow her battle weary bugle – CHARGE. Who falls in line, follows? Who feels called in love to go her way. There are no winners when fear leads  the weary into the unknown places.

And slips into the night, commands the dreams and rattles the sleepy, gets you up to pace the floors at night, creaking lonely in the midnight hour, draining the life from a tomorrow. Re-naming the days to come as weary and hopeless.

Fear gets the title here. Fear gets a word in this 31 Day Series of Words, but only because Fear gives Hope an opportunity to do her best work, to come in and breathe a breath of new living and redemptions glory.

The reigns are dropped, the bridled grip on frozen frightened doubt and worry loosed, and Hope and Trust ride off on wings of eagles, bound for a life lived with glimpses of the glory of heaven.




Friends, I am so thrilled to introduce you to my friend, Elizabeth. She is married to the Patient One and together they have three perfect children, though they are not. Teenagers are great. They should know. And adult children are too. They should know. There are four furry people with four legs in their zoo slash home. Three of them follow her around all day, so she is never alone. She likes art and music and most days loves to write and play with words. She and the Patient One like to cook and play with food together. She doesn’t know if it’s a habit to break but middle child has asked her to leave the furniture alone. She loves all things Southern and old. Her life has been grace-filled. They have survived and been strengthened by more than one bump in their marriage and in their family life. Blessings abound in their life at the coast and she remains in awe of our God and all of his goodness.

You can find more of Elizabeth’s soul-wrenching writing here–I really think she’s a modern-day poet, and more than that, I am honored to call her friend. She is really a treasure. Please check out her lovely blog.

Still counting for joy, for Hope and Trust…1,000 and beyond…{1,007-1,019}…
For more words, for a calling-down-the-power-of-heaven prayer before CC, for godly parents in my classroom, for success in my weakness–only by His grace, for parents telling me they’re using the gratitude journals we made–pure heaven and I’m grinning, for her leaning into me heavy in sleep, her always reaching up, needing me, for gentle, quiet moments in the rocker and the dark, for crying as I read “You Are My I Love You to her, for getting to bed late and staying awake with her vomiting in my bed off and on, how she raises up a mason jar for water when we wake, eyes questioning, for Husband who calls, asks if I need him to leave work and come home, for a loving man who reminds me not to take too much on, who relieves me of my burden, tells me it’s his burden to provide…what a man.

Linking up with The Nester, and all the other 31-Dayers.…This ought to be one wild, brave ride…

Do you struggle with fear, friend? Please tell me your story? Have you seen God redeem these doubts, these concerns? Have you found grace? Your comments so encourage me. I draw strength from your kind words and knowing you were here. My faith walk is seasoned with the right ingredients when you hang around…


This is one post in a series of 31 days of Fear. You can find the entire 31 Day collective here.  I have chosen to do this one on FEAR, because it seems to be something I keep wrestling with over and over, something that keeps me in chains, pins me down, won’t let me free. I hope you will come with me on this journey–to get a taste of glorious redemption as I soul-search and look for Jesus smack-dab in the middle of my fears. And Jesus sits with sinners. I won’t have to look very far.

Couldn’t we all use some freedom from those fear-chains that bind? I pray God gives me the strength and the courage to complete 31 days–y’all, it’s going to be hard on this ‘ol gal to write every.single.day. Pray for me?   

Some other 31 Day collectives I’m loving: Shelly @ Redemptions BeautyAmber Haines , and Lisa-Jo

And also linking up with Ann, Shanda, LauraMichelle, and Jen



We’re In A Race Against Time, Love and Fear of Love Not Being Real {Day 8}

On Fridays, I join up with Lisa-Jo Baker and others at her blog to write for five minutes with a one-word prompt, to be a free bird, writing without worrying if it’s just right, without editing or backtracking.

 GO. 

                                                                                                        photo credit

We are in a race against time, love
against all forces that drag us down and hold us back
Can you see me?
Can you see me bleeding love for you?
They said we weren’t supposed to be together
Remember that?
And so many years we’ve been together
And so much has been said and done
And when two people love one another but live in pain,
I wonder where God is in that
Sometimes I wonder if soul-mates don’t exist,
and maybe it’s just that God watches us make vows
and under God we keep them
on this holy ground
We’re in a race against time, love
We’re getting older and I don’t want to waste time
on these words that hurt
Let’s love passionately and rightly
and let’s fulfill sacred vows
and let’s not fill one another up
Let God do that
But let’s just love on one another
Lavish it thickly, like when I wake and feel you there
in the coffee and special cup you laid out for me
Or when I make you stand there and press into me,
take the hug you are unsure of,
and tell you to squeeze me harder until you relax.
And we’re in a race against time, love
I want to love you well before it’s too late.

STOP.

{This was more like 7 minutes; I awakened with this on my heart this morning–and fingers weigh heavy on keyboards when our hearts are heavy.}

You can click here below to go to Lisa-Jo’s site and see more 5 min. narratives on RACE–our one-word prompt for today…..
Five Minute Friday

Linking up with The Nester, and all the other 31-Dayers.…This ought to be one wild, brave ride…

Also linking with Laura for Faith-Filled Friday .

Do you struggle with fear of the love you have not being real, do you struggle in your human skin in your marriage? Do you struggle with fears of not having enough time to figure it out properly before it’s too late? Please tell me your story? Have you seen God redeem these doubts, these concerns? Have you found grace? Your comments so encourage me. I draw strength from your kind words and knowing you were here. My faith walk is seasoned with the right ingredients when you hang around…

Some other 31 Day collectives I’m loving: Shelly @ Redemptions Beauty, Amber Haines , and Lisa-Jo


This is one post in a series of 31 days of Fear. You can find the entire 31 Day collective here.  I have chosen to do this one on FEAR, because it seems to be something I keep wrestling with over and over, something that keeps me in chains, pins me down, won’t let me free. I hope you will come with me on this journey–to get a taste of glorious redemption as I soul-search and look for Jesus smack-dab in the middle of my fears. And Jesus sits with sinners. I won’t have to look very far.

Couldn’t we all use some freedom from those fear-chains that bind? I pray God gives me the strength and the courage to complete 31 days–y’all, it’s going to be hard on this ‘ol gal to write every.single.day. Pray for me?   







Friends, meet my friend, Jennifer Lee. She is so lovely and down-to-earth, a farmer’s wife in Iowa. I just love her, and you will too. If you would so kindly click here and go over to my friend, Jennifer’s site for a GIVEAWAY!You can enter until the 14th! Her sweet daughter, Lydia, is having a jewelry party to raise money for a school playground for children in Haiti. We know these children and families have been affected by much suffering after the earthquake. This jewelry is hand-made by our sisters in Haiti–Jennifer has been there, met them, hung out with them in their homes–and this is Jennifer’s project. By buying one of these beautiful necklaces, you will be helping a Haitian woman work to feed her family, AND you will be helping raise money for children to have a place to play! She is also giving away some jewelry, so hurry on over and share on facebook, twitter, etc for your spot in the giveaway! I’m definitely buying one–I hope you do, too!

Loving You Recklessly {and Gratitude}

Oh, sometimes it just sweeps over me so violently–how I love you, my man, more than life itself. Our life together is all I know now, all I can really feel in the marrow of me. The memories of these years–the struggling, the bonding, the falling apart and coming back together, all the nights and days knowing your powerful love–in the sunshine on our faces as we work and play and in the night as we love with the moon glowing upon us–it’s all I really know deep in my soul.

You have taken me on such a wild, breathtaking love journey. I go on and on about intimacy and weigh down the air with words, but you have taught me the hard work of love every. single. day.

Every time you wash the dishes, try to help me get on track with a schedule, when you jump in without saying a word to help make up for my inadequacies–you teach.

How you are quiet in faithful trust, how you hold your tongue when I’m angry and I say too much–and you just stand there, looking at me, eyes an anchor when I look into them and me drowning in this sea of emotion–you let the grace just pour over us in waves.

When you patiently, quietly show the girls the way to do something right and responsible, and you laugh softly at their mistakes and you don’t harshly correct–you are love in motion. And I want to be this–this love in motion I see in you. That I get to be a recipiant– I am one blessed woman.

And honestly? I just don’t know why you keep putting up with me. I have a hard time staying within the grocery budget, I’m not a great housekeeper–I leave dishes piled high until after the kids and I have had fun outdoors, and I fail at keeping time–can never help us arrive anywhere punctually.

Grace is this thing that I’m always hoping for, and always surprised to receive.

And for all the times that I’ve held you to your debts, and forgot to forgive, I pray that grace comes on the wings of a dove, carrying the gospel message. And for all the baggage that may be stacked high between us, I pray that His justification and righteousness would come on the backs of wild stallions, their hooves pounding in the Christ-blood, and rescue us from our sin-wreckage.

Because I am just this wife that fails over and over again. I really cannot be the woman that you need, and then you bend over my bedside in still-dark morning and as I take in the smell of your cologne and sweet breath, feel the hot against my neck, you whisper into my ear affirming words, words of love and devotion. You always do this when we’ve had a hard night and disagreed.

You always come on powerful wings of grace and anchor me back to Love.

Gratitude:

3 gifts from my Heavenly Father…

#815 grace, grace, grace…How He loves, in spite of me

#816 how He picks me up and gently rocks me, soothes me, lets me know its going to be alright and hides me in the shadow of His wing–Psalm 17:8 “Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings.”

#817 how He leads me so faithfully always in the right direction, my steps sure

#818 how Eddie and I hold hands as a team, and we require obedience and responsibility from the children

#819 how Eddie leads us all in godliness and keeps us all on course with work ethic–yielding all to please our Father

#820 his phrase–“You have to work hard if you want to play hard”

#821 how we all know there is reward at the end of our work

#822 how Lorna says to me in the middle of couch being scrubbed down, “Mama, I feel good about the house being clean” and the pink glow on her pretty face.

3 difficult gifts…

#823 hormones taking over my body, I’ve yelled, and Lorna hugs me and tells me she forgives me.

#824 Husband and I, neither of us able to sleep, staying up all night with little one while she is in a night terror–all of our efforts unable to cure her inconsolable crying

#825 me and the girls missing the free theatre play because baby girl is throwing up–thankful little one is ok
 

#826 getting up earlier with purpose

#827 watering flowers in the hot, early morning sun

#828 peeking through the crack to watch them play, lost in child wonder

3 gifts I became today in serving…

#829 chauffeur

#830 neighborhood mom–foregoing my run for a playdate at our house–game of Bocee in the backyard and turkey and tofu lasagna for supper

#831 friend–dancing silly and making my daughter and her friend laugh

#832 folding clothes with my girls

#833 birds singing as we do schoolwork outside

#834 finding a bird’s nest in our little backyard tree

#835 teaching my little one to write her numbers

#836 her sweet dimpled grin, her and I both so proud when she writes her name

#837 lying in the hammock, all of us tangled up, reading Little House On the Prairie

a gift bent, beautiful, loved…

#838 bright yellow sunflowers brought to me by our neighbor, starting to wilt

#839 a tray brought to me by eldest daughter with fried eggs as eyes, toast with jam for a mouth, and bits of bacon for eyebrows and mustache –just because she knows her Mama has a hard time getting up in the morning and she enjoys serving

#840 Lilly’s soft blue hippo in her arms in our bed, her limbs splayed out, the hippo’s limbs hanging limply for the wear

#841 the girls and I climbing a tree to see newborn baby Brown Thrashers

#842 how devotedly and tirelessly the mama Brown Thrasher watches over and incubates her nest

#843 how in one fell swoop, the father appears from nowhere, sqwaking and thrashing his wings, threatening our young cat who has climbed right up to the nest

#844 his text to me sent out of the blue, sweet words of affirmation for no reason…

**Friends, your comments mean so much to me–they soul-drench me in grace and minister to me. And your prayers mean even more. I am not able to answer each comment–I am probably helping construct a science project, cleaning up potty-training baby girl’s messes, reading a good book with my kids in the hammock, playing tag, having a glass of wine with Husband, or just trying to breathe, friend! I hope you understand? Thank you in advance for grace. I love this community of grace-filled people! Head here to get to know me better and to read why during this season of life, I am just quietly writing, and not visiting via social media as much….

** Thank you for so, so much grace, friends. My heart cannot express in mere words, my thankfulness. I love all of you.






On In Around button




Resurrecting A Marriage {Ponderings of Easter}

The kids are at the grandparents for the weekend and we are getting ready to leave and Husband tells me matter-of-factly that it’s not a date, asks me why I’m wearing heels. Heels click loudly on hardwood and ring through the house and I am embarrassed at my obviousness. My heart is crushed, because in my little-girl-grown-up-heart, I had so hoped he would notice, say I was pretty, look at me longingly, put his hand just there on the small of my back as he led me to the car.

Instead, an hour later, it all comes out of me hot and rushed and a little too loud how that I don’t feel loved.

Why is it that God made me that way–with a particular love-language that my husband doesn’t understand?

I look up to Father, to the One who can fill this deep, vast void in me, this canyon of waters that rushes wild and snares anything that comes along in it’s thrashing.

I look to the One who knows the ache and understands the pain of rejection.

I look to the One who gets me, who points my sin out to me gently one by one, so I’m not overwhelmed, and seeing my ugly, loves me anyway–unconditionally.

I look up and I say to Him, “Father, you know my heart. You know my heart, Father. You know my heart.”

And He does. He knows that I love my husband passionately, that I would go to hell and back for that man, that my children are my crown of glory, that I would go down to the depths before I would let one blonde hair on their halo-heads be touched by evil. God understands, because His Son is His crown, whom He loves, in whom He is pleased, and I am a co-heir with him, and I am God’s beloved, His beautiful jeweled crown.

He knows that I spend hours reading, thinking, trying to learn new ways to make home happy and peaceful and safe and a place that everyone wants to be. He knows that I search frantically for the way. He knows that on my own I am helpless in the ways of homemaking and the ways of God.

He knows that I am a screw-up. He knows that just the moment that I write a beautiful story about mothering, and hit publish, then I grind my teeth and yell at my children, and their happy chin botches up and their lip turns down and quivers and the eyes look at me, deep pools of hurt.

He knows that I forget to be grateful, I forget to do the simple act of telling Him thanks, that this home has more harsh words–words that break– than I want it to.

He knows that I run in a vicious cycle of try hard, fail, give up and try hard again, as the Pastor said on Easter Sunday. He knows I try hard at Lent and celebrating Easter and I am deficient.

He knows that Easter draws close, I close up and want to withdraw, because as his death becomes more and more real, as the thing draws heavy upon me, my human emotions and expressions simply cannot do Him justice. And I’m rendered useless in His presence.

He is the only One that really sees my heart, sees my tears, mourns with me, catches my tears and keeps each one in a bottle. He never forgets one tear that escapes the soul-windows, them leaking out pain.

Husband and I walk hand in hand into a local restaurant dating back to the 1840’s and when we sit down and after the waiter has left, he touches my knee, looks me in the eye, and he already has me.

Those soft blue eyes with such care in them, I just get lost and want to leap right in like a wild woman. He says he is sorry, and that’s all I really need to hear. And the conversation continues and we talk about the artists splayed on the brick wall, and we are a little taken with the place, and I convince him to share some World Famous Black Bottom Pie.

What I really have a hard time swallowing down, though, as we sit there and I look at him, is that I have been ungrateful. I know that I pushed until I got what I wanted–time, closeness, and it’s just the two of us in all the world if I can just get five uninterrupted moments to stare into those eyes.

But I long for the day when I serve him so well that I have abundant grace to pour out when he is in a dry season and he can’t readily give me those moments–I long to be this woman full of grace, wisdom on my lips.

God, burn me, Refiner’s fire, from the inside out–start with my mouth–and just take over and consume–love through me, serve through me.

Later when we are finally alone in the dark, and he reaches over and lays his hand on me as I lie still, lets it slide down, I feel the kindling of the moment, tiny sparks that take over and consume.

And I am this–bride waiting with candle burning brightly, always waiting for her bridegroom when he chooses to come for her.

I weep inside over who I’ve been, for when I have fallen asleep and let my wick go out, when I have missed the glory of God, quenched the Holy Spirit with the crushing words of my mouth.

I weep only on the inside and I open up completely to him, this man that has such power over me, let the grace pour over me as the love between us is made.

My heart, through my husband, is revealed to me and drawn back to God, who holds me and is the only One who can fill this scary, raving mad unquenchable void in me.

Gratitude:

#689 e-mails from beautiful sisters

#690 for mentors

#691 illness leaving our home finally, Satan’s lies defeated

#692 my best friend coming to my home for a spontaneous visit

#693 the grace of her sitting on my porch swing, pouring our hearts out

#694 the way she dotes on my girls–how she does this everytime she sees them–the thousand, countless ways she is thoughtful toward me

#695 how they call her Auntie April, because she is that to them

#696 our run through the trails later

#697 how we can say anything to one another, how we kackle silly and share unabashadly what God is showing us about our sinful hearts

#698 hours outside in the sun picnicing, Husband coming home and playing badmitton until twilight pushes us all inside

#699 how Bella runs up to her Daddy in the drive and asks him to come play–how he can’t say no

#700 Bella writing her ABC’s and her name

#701 her dimpled grin–how her whole face lights up like the heavens when she shows me so proud–how i could fall into those deep ravines of cuteness and get lost right there at the corner of her mouth

#702 how I wonder if the glory of God can be summed up in the face of this child

#703 Ivy’s loving hugs that make me feel wrapped up in a warm blanket

#704 Ivy coming and telling me she clasps her hands together and prays to Jesus in her head, and she hears Him talking to her

#705 Lorna’s “I Am From” poem–that she’s a poet at heart like her Mama

#706 that I was able after a two-year battle with illness, to take babies to doctor and store–still can’t believe I’m better–glory to Him

#707 After Bella’s shots, her concern when the nurse places Lilly on the table, and she says to my Granny upon stepping out of the room: “I bet Lilly is crying.”

#708 an incredible few weeks of Lent and how God has lavishly blessed our time together as a family

#709 how He took us from being lost in exhaustion and t.v. to re-focusing our efforts toward our family goals–His grace to be at the supper table, enjoying God together

#710 an amazing Easter service, indescribable worship to an even more indescribable God, communion and the confession of sins at the altar, loving prayer woman-to-woman and man-to-man, the gospel like i have never seen it presented

#711 how in my failures, God meets me and when my human emotions fall short of expressing and celebrating His beauty, how He is still glorified through me, not because of me, but because He is God

#712 that the story of the cross and His blood shed never gets old–a fresh revelation of His gospel and grace all over again

#713 that God almighty Himself would wrestle with me, would reveal Himself to me, over and over, in spite of myself

#714 that His blood speaks a better word than all the empty claims I’ve heard upon this Earth, speaks righteousness for me and stands in my defense–lines from a favorite song

#715 a beautiful day of Easter celebration with family, that I was able to pull off a gorgeous dinner, with all their help, in spite of my organization handicap–how we all worked together, talked, laughed

#716 the beautiful grace of my parents washing up the dishes side-by-side before they left

#717 my Husband, how even though I’m his help-meet, he is also my helper in life–how he is there for me always in every circumstance and we are a team

#718 Husband’s remark as we fall asleep, a beautiful day, a job well done, everyone was proud, he says–I don’t understand this, but accept the grace anyway

#719 this song that broke me during Easter service–one of my favorites… and here is the video–it is  not for the faint of heart, but is a real depiction of our Lord and the blood He spilled for us…the blood I praise Him for…

{I actually have two videos for you…if you only have time for one, definitely–choose the second–I watched this at church Sunday and have never heard the gospel presented quite like this–it will rock your world}

Friends, your comments mean so much to me–please leave your thoughts so that I can drop by at your place to leave some encouragement for you. I am not able to answer each comment–I am probably in some corner of my home sorting through laundry in danger of mildewing, and I hope to visit with you as soon as I get the chance! Thank you in advance for grace, friends! I love this community of grace-filled people!

Shared with Ann in community at…

and Laura…

L.L…
On In Around button

Emily…

Jennifer….

Michelle…

and Shanda…

Us Just Dust

What do I do with a heart given to me stone cold?

When it wants to reel me in, make me stand at attention,

But it doesn’t know how to hold

All day, the tears pour down

But all is silence, not a sound

And the apologies won’t come

There is a steel wall that I can’t get through

As hard as I try to call him back,

I am breathless in my effort

So empty am I of love

How my soul yearns for things to be loosed on Earth as they are above

I need the help of someone bigger than me

I need His eyes to see this tangled mess

How I want the earth to shift back into place again

Just let me without feigning touch your face

God never expected us to live this way

Oh Father help me in this fallen state

Where the pain is mind-numbing

And I don’t know how to fix us

God, let the three-chord strand hold thick, You the creator, us just dust

Shared with Emily…you will surely be blessed by visiting there!

Sacrificial Love

Husband is cradling me in the black wee hours of the morning, as tears run hot and I pour out my fears, tell him that I can’t make it stop, that I can’t sleep. It is a frightening thing, to relapse, to feel Satan tug at me–hard–to meet my anxiety and fear head on and to admit it vulnerably even here.

To hear the mind-numbing static constantly running through my mind…to get no relief and to not understand why. And yet, there he is, aroused from sleep by the worried sob accidentally escaping from his wife’s throat. And he is wrapping me in his love, his protection, his safe harbour. Here my worry can cease. He wipes it from my brow…whispers “it’s okay”, saving me from my dark pit.

Who am I to say that Christ’s work on that rugged, cruel cross wasn’t enough—the cross where He was isolated from His Father, hated, beaten unrecognizable, and killed through a gruesome death? Who am I to say that He can’t save me from this despair, worry and fear? I feel it through Husband’s loving embrace–the Creator is pursuing me. I feel Him, relentless…He won’t stop until I give it all up–my doubts, my reasonings and trying to make sense of it– until I know this fully—that He loves me.

And the God glory is especially heavy when my heart is heavy, weary, fearful, and when Husband cradles, skin to skin in the night, whispers in my ear that it is okay, that they are only lies from Satan and not to listen, gently smoothes my hair and touches his hand to my face even though he has to get up in the still-dark hours for work .

This is love. Sacrificial love.

When I hear and feel his heartbeat underneath, steady and alive, that strong chest receiving me like a child, it is then that I know that this is how God cradles me, how He holds me, how He soothes me, if I just lay and rest.

This is how God sees me…a child, afraid, but loved more than she knows, wrapped in grace and protection as a child is…as a wife is covered by her husband who loves her in the night.

This is what God wants me to know…He is my Father, and He loves me, and sees me through the blood of His Son…That Son that He gave, that Son that was the Word, that was with God, but took the punishment and received in Himself my sin so that the Father had to turn away…and that was the worst punishment…because in this sin-sick world, this world that shuns me and makes me feel bitter cold, I couldn’t imagine having the only thing that always holds me up taken away from me–my Father’s face. And Jesus giving that up for me reveals His powerful love for me.

And it is dawning, that this is the hard thanks that I wanted to learn. It is painful, aching, mind-reeling, and it threatens to break me, but it is these moments that I know His grace. It is these moments when I am afraid to pray, don’t know what to say, all balled up like a child inside, and His grace pours in, my husband holding me, soothing me, and it opens up His glory in varying hue and light–the splendor all around me–and there I am, lost…

and found in the shadow of the cross. In His love.

And this is where I learn to love…fully, with no regrets, no fear–knowing that God holds me and cradles me–no thought of self, or reward, forgiving and always hoping and believing the best–knowing that God is in control– humble and patient–knowing that He gives more grace–and giving of myself. Fully giving of myself until He completely takes over, until there is nothing left of me, until I have served and loved and devoted my time and energy and I am all spent, even to the point of death, yes, even there I will go for love…to carry this love to others for the One who gave it all–even His life. And He desires nothing less.