18

It was a steamy hot day.  May 17^th marked 18 years since that day when everything changed.  The preacher and the dresses and flowers and food were all set.  We said I do, drove off to the beach, and began the most beautiful journey of our lives. 

We had no idea what we were doing.  We were kids, but we were kids in love.  The minute I saw his dirty hat and saw the way he looked at me, I knew.  But that’s really all I knew.  Now, almost two decades later, I’m in awe of all that living so many days side by side is teaching us.

18 years.  That’s a lot of days.  What does 18 years require?  A lot. 

It requires:

being honest, painfully honest, and forgiving when you’re not 

putting each other first, and forgiving when you don’t  

discussing and understanding, and forgiving when you can’t 

using your words to build the other up, and forgiving when you haven’t

loving and sharing and engaging when you’re spent, and forgiving when you won’t 

holding your tongue, and forgiving when you didn’t

It takes a lot of laughing and explaining and confessing and listening.

It takes a lot of words: difficult words, angry words, loving words, confused words, funny words, grace-filled words, forgiving words, misunderstood words, clarifying words, encouraging words.

A lot of coffee, pancakes, hammocking, cover stealing, teeth brushing, back scratching, sleeping in, late nights, over sleeping, stubbed toes, oh sh@!s, which shoe?’s, I like burnt cookies’s, grocery, laundry, busy, boring, bike rides, we should pray’s. 

A lot of smiles and frowns and tears and whispers and shouts.  A lot of I love you’s and a lot of I’m sorry’s.  So many I’m sorry’s.  A lot of this is difficults’s and more God is good’s than I can count.

I love being married, and I especially love the man I married. 

But I don’t wave the number 18 as a badge of pride.  It is a banner of hope.

Hope that good things are ahead, hope that staying is worth it.  Marriage can be difficult and requires a lot, but it gives so much more.   
 

dust

Yesterday was quite the day.  Unfortunately, I can't count the number of days like it on one hand or two hands, or two hands and two feet. There wasn't anything unique about this day--no bad circumstances, just a bad mood.  I was mad about so many things, I couldn't even name one.  I was short with my husband and distant and unavailable to my kids.  I find that I use being busy and unavailable as a mechanism so no one has to deal with my junk.  And so I don't have to deal with them.  If I am busy, I'm not forced into conversations that I don't want to have;  I don't have to listen or answer questions or help with homework.  Busyness is a wall that I erect to avoid engaging.  It was one of those days.  You're familiar with these days, right?

Here's the difference between the way my loving Father deals with me and the way the enemy would like things to go.  The enemy accuses me, turning every situation into my failure.  He wants me to have a vague sense that everything is wrong, especially me.  He says I am justified in my anger and sin and that I am guilty and without hope.  There is no way out because this is just how life is. I read once that he puts personal pronouns on these accusations so they seem like accurate thoughts I'm having about myself:  "I'm really failing at this...my kids don't care...they don't even need me to engage...this is awful...it's pretty much what I deserve.  They will need so much counseling..."  Do you see where this is going?

Oh, but the words of my loving Father...
His conviction is more specific: "Heather, you were rude and selfish yesterday. You were spending the day with self-preserving walls up.  Apologize to your family." 

This is the difference between accusation and conviction.  One is from my enemy and one is from my Father. One way leads to death and one way leads to life.

Satan takes my sin and makes it a declaration of who I am, "You yelled, you are a failure."

God puts His finger on my sin and points me back to Him in confession and repentance, "You yelled, apologize and allow Me to pluck that out of your life.  Draw near to me and I'll give you strength and the fulfillment that you are looking for." 

I sin, He convicts, I confess and repent, He restores and draws me closer.  I cling to Him in dependence. This is sanctification.  Facing the truth of who I am, confessing, and relying on Him to change me brings intimacy.  And this cycle happens again and again.  To think that I should be further along, or I should be past this, is pride.  This holy God who loves His children knows how weak we are, He remembers that we are only dust (Psalm 103:14); He knows that I am and always will be a sheep and He is and always will be my Great Shepherd.  His relentless love doesn't leave us in a ditch but frees us from condemnation and accusation to live under the Freedom Banner that Jesus waves over us.

face to face

It was the first spring in our new house.  It was the first time I had a yard.  I knew, when we moved in a few months before, that blooms were somewhere dormant in the winter ground, but I had no idea how many bright surprises were waiting on us that spring. 

One day, as I sat on the couch folding laundry, I looked out the window to find the most vivid pink flowers.   So enamored that something beautiful might actually be in my yard, I didn't notice the filth on the window, only the vibrant color lining the yard.

My eyes shifted after a few seconds, and I saw nothing but the dirty window.  I soon forgot about the trees as my mind began to wonder why those windows were so dirty. Traveling...busyness...my young children...there were many excuses but I was still embarrassed at the sight of them. Trying to look through that filth, I looked once again at the trees.

Words that I had read earlier in the week quickly came to mind, In the same way, we can see and understand only a little about God now as if we were peering at His reflection in a poor mirror; but someday we are going to see Him in His completeness, face to face. Now all that I know is hazy and blurred, but then I will see everything clearly, just as clearly as God sees into my heart right now.     1 Corinthians 13:12.

A poor mirror.  When I look at God it is as if I am looking at His reflection in a dirty, defective mirror. The knowledge of Him, whether surface or intimate, is only a glimpse of who He is--only what He's revealed to me.  Even when I've experienced Him in a way that I feel my heart might explode, it's an exponentially small amount compared to his greatness.  My view is limited because I am limited. 

Imagine an ant on the shore of the ocean.  He stands in awe of what he sees and what he can experience and yet the massiveness of the ocean is barely comprehended by our little friend.  He is overwhelmed even by his small view.

What we know of God's love and grace and holiness is like a small puddle while His full character is more grand than all of the seas.  He not only loves me, He loves me with His unrelenting love; He not only gives me grace, He gives scandalous amounts of grace; He is not only holy, His holiness is so beautiful that it would strike me blind if I saw its fullness.   He is more loving, more grace-giving, more holy--He is immeasurably more.

My spiritual vision can be hazy because I am looking through my flesh--through my sin and brokenness.  And while God has redeemed me, His restoration will only be complete when I am physically in His presence.  So until then, He allows me to know Him through Christ, to understand Him, but with a limited understanding.

There are times when I shift my focus and only see the dirt.  I see my own sinfulness more than I see Him.  I might begin to lose sight of Him altogether, and my weakness and brokenness appears larger than life.

The challenge is to look at Him even if it is in a poor mirror or through a dirty window--to trust that the One I'm looking at is the same One who is cleaning away the dirt so that I might see Him more.

When God looks at me, is it through that same poor, hazy glass? The blood of Christ shed for me declares a loud, No.  He sees me clearly and completely.  He knows me, small finite thing that I am, and loves me.

One more thought that I can barely contain--a day is coming when I will see God just as clearly as He sees me. I will know Him as intricately and intimately as He knows me--every detail, every thought, every motive, every intention.  No more questioning.  No more seeing glimpses of who He is. I will see Him in His completeness, face to face.

my hiding place

In the shelter of Your presence You hide them from the intrigues of men; in Your dwelling you keep them safe from accusing tongues. Psalm 31:20


God is my refuge. He surrounds me with His love. I am free from worry or concern because I am in His shadow. Like hiding in the cleft of a rock when the storm comes, I hide in Him. I may see the storm, it may seem closer to me than anything else, but it cannot touch me. He is my Rock and my Shelter. He goes behind me and before me. My God engulfs me. He is my Strongtower, my Shield, and my Hiding Place. I am in Him and He is in me.

Lord, I hide in You today.