The Promise

Mar2

23 years. 8401 days. 3 miscarried babies. 3 born babies. 2 dogs, 2 cats, numerous fish, 3 hermit crabs and a bird. 8 vehicles. 2 apartments—one in California, one in Florida. 2 houses. Too many bikes to count. 1 husband. Together, beating the odds.

I’m glad I keep a journal, because I have written recordsc0079bb1f of so much that’s gone on in those 8401 days. 34 days before that count started, though, I wrote about what I thought the promises were that I’d be making that March 2nd day 23 years ago. Here’s what I said:

“The main thing I think I’m committing to is knowing him better than anybody else, and always being there to help make him the best that he can be. I’m promising to search out his innermost thoughts, and to listen carefully. I’m promising to point out his rough spots and to help sand them down, and to polish up his bright spots so they show up even better. I’m promising to let him know that I love him even when it may seem to him that no one else does. I will be his shelter. I’m promising to provide a home for him that is a haven, one he will be loathe to leave and anxious to get back to. I’m promising to reveal myself to him as I do to no one else. To let him point out the rough spots in me that no one else is able or willing to. I’m promising to let him take care of me and thus encourage that nurturing, caring, providing, leading attitude that comes from knowing you are really and truly needed. I’m promising to be the church to his Jesus. And it’s not going to be easy. But it’s going to be worth it.”IMG_3260

Happy anniversary, Hunny. It has definitely not been easy, but it has most definitely been worth it. Here’s to many, many more.

Speaking My Language

Feb27

Jesús-te-amaLet’s say you’re taking a class in conversational Spanish. You’ve been in class for a few months and have learned many fine phrases like “Me llamo Stephanie,” and “Dondé esta el baño?” Very useful. But you know you’re not exactly at the point where you can have a conversation. You look around your classroom and see that not everyone in the room is at the same level. Some have absorbed more than others and will be further along in their ability to actually speak the language to a native Spanish speaker. But all of them can converse a bit, anyway. But you don’t go out and try to talk like a native speaker.

Now, let’s say, you’ve got several years of conversational Spanish under your belt, you feel confident in your fluency, so you go to a local coffee shop and try to order from the waitress in Spanish using your hard-earned prowess. Unless she, too, knows Spanish, the waitress is going to give you a blank stare. And then you hear everyone else in the room, and none of them are speaking Spanish. Do you then wonder what’s wrong with everyone? Why aren’t they speaking Spanish? You’re speaking Spanish, and pretty darn well, thank you very much! Why isn’t everyone speaking Spanish?

This is how I feel I react sometimes when I expect people who don’t know Jesus to act like people who do. I expect that they will get along well with each other. I expect that they will handle conflict in a godly way. I expect that they will react to adversity with grace and peace. I expect that movies and music and TV shows will be tasteful and clean.

But expecting those kinds of things from people who don’t know Jesus is like expecting those who have never taken Spanish to speak it fluently. You can’t know what you haven’t learned. You can’t act like Jesus if you don’t know who He is. This should not shock me. Even I who know Him fail to act like Him many times.

Do I like it that my son’s friends use vulgar language? No. But should I expect anything different from them if they don’t know the One who makes them clean?

Do I like it that there’s so much drama in places where humans have to work together? No. But should I be shocked that those who don’t know the Prince of Peace act in a confrontational manner?

If the people to whom I want to speak Spanish don’t know the language, maybe I should be teaching them or bringing them with me to class. Then we can have conversations together and even teach each other new words as maybe they learn faster than I do.

If the people I find myself in contact with don’t know Jesus, maybe I should be telling them about Him. If I’m not willing to do that, I certainly should stop being shocked that they act the way they do.

You can’t know what you haven’t learned. You can’t act like Someone you’ve never even met.

I See You

Feb13

IMG_7606This morning, I noticed this cryptic message on my desk. I would normally attribute this kind of message to my husband, as we have been known to hide a small flyer with the Geico eyes on a stack of money in each other’s underwear drawer. But he says he didn’t do it. Must have been one of my kids. Perhaps fans of stalker movies would be unnerved by such a thing, but my mind immediately went to the movie “Avatar,” which came out in 2009.

The premise is that a group of ugly Americans bent on mining a precious ore from the planet Pandora send in a specialized team to try to talk the indigenous people, the Na’vis, into moving away from the area where this substance is most concentrated. If they don’t leave, the company plans on wiping them out. Problem is, this place is where their central spiritual life lives. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but, in a nugget, “avatars,” or beings made to resemble the Na’vis, are controlled remotely by an amazing scientific process of a sort of mind control. Anyway, a crippled former Marine gets the job of an avatar guard for a team studying the planet for research reasons, gets separated from his team, and ends up falling in love with one of the Na’vi women. In the process, he agrees to infiltrate the people and try to convince them to move. What he learns changes his mind. They cannot be moved, and should not be moved, and the wealth-aquiring aspirations of the mining company are really evil. (Check out this link if you want to know more.)

OK, so, what does that have to do with seeing? Well, instead of saying, “I love you,” Jake, the former Marine, and Neytiri, the Na’vi woman he loves, say “I see you.” It goes deeper than just saying, “Oh yeah, there you are.” It means I know you. I am a student of you. I am invested in learning your soul.

I recently read a really great article by Dr. Kelly Flanagan (see “Why One Text Message is More Romantic Than a Hundred Valentine’s Cards) about how something one loves is something one searches for when it’s missing. It’s called “object permanence” and babies learn that as they grow. That’s why “peek-a-boo” works with babies. Now you see it. Now you don’t. When you show up again, the child is thrilled. But if you take something a baby is enjoying away from them, they won’t go and look for it; they simply assume it doesn’t exist anymore. Eventually, they learn that it’s still around somewhere, and if they want it, they need to find it.

Dr. Flanagan asserts that letting your significant other know that you’re thinking about them throughout the day is more a sign of how much you love them than the most extravagant of gifts. A text message saying “I’m thinking of you” once a day can do more for your relationship than a dozen roses once a year. When you’re not there, I’m searching for you. When we’re not together, a part of me is missing. When I’m with you, I really see who you are. I see into your soul.

More than 20 years ago I heard a wonderful sermon by one of my favorite pastors, Chuck Swindoll. It was titled “Love, Sweet Love” and it contained the ABC’s of what love does: I Accept you as you are; I Believe that you are valuable; I Care when you hurt; I Desire what is best for you and I Erase all offenses.

I see you.

Happy Valentine’s Day

My Way Or The High(er)way

Feb4

laundryI got irritated with my husband this morning. That’s not all that surprising. We’ve been married just short of 23 years; there’s been many moments of irritation before. What may surprise you is the reason for my irritation: He did a load of laundry. What? How dare he?

It took me a bike ride and some time of quiet for the Holy Spirit to speak into my heart and help me figure out why I was so irritated by that. What I came up with was this: When I saw him take the hamper out to the laundry room, my mind immediately said, “Oh good! He’s doing a load of laundry. One less thing for me to do today!” Then, when I saw a short while later that he had only done a very small load of things he needed, I’m afraid, well, I didn’t react very well. Thinking I could check one task off my list, I was disappointed to find there was still the bulk of the load to do. Thus, irritation set in.

But, since David and I have been going through a marriage course called re|engage, we’ve learned to quickly ask forgiveness. We’ve already talked and forgiveness has been granted, along with a reminder that his way is not wrong, it’s simply different, another lesson we’re learning in our marriage study. He needed clean underwear before he left for work, thus the small load on a quick wash. I simply saw it as selfishness. It’s not like he caused me more work, he just didn’t cause me less.

Differences. They’re what make us unique people. So why is it that so many couples don’t celebrate their differences? How often do we read that celebrity couples have split up due to “irreconcilable differences”? Irreconcilable. Cannot be reconciled. As in, we can’t figure out why we’re so different? Or we just don’t want to have to deal with it?

I could have easily kept my irritation this morning. I could have left David feeling disrespected because I felt my way was better instead of hearing the reasons why he did what he did. Even then, I could have persisted that my way was better. But that’s not really what matters. My marriage, and letting God make it what He wants it to be, matters.

Why let the differences tear us apart? Instead of my way, I choose the higher way.

 

photo from http://www.wlu.edu

Caught!

Jan30

knivesA boy from my kids’ high school was shot dead this past weekend. It didn’t happen at school, nevertheless, officials with metal detectors were on campus bright and early Monday morning.

Now, my boys are knife lovers. They pore over magazines about knives and our computer monitoring software is always warning me about visits to sites showcasing knives, swords and other various sharp objects. But they know better than to bring one to school. But I still frequently worry that they’ll forget they’ve stuck one in their pocket as they get ready for school, simply out of habit. Hasn’t happened yet, but the risk is there.

And unfortunately, for a friend of my son’s, that risk grew bones when he was caught that Monday morning with a pocketknife on campus. For now, he’s serving a 10-day suspension. There’s still a possibility that he could be expelled. What a shame that would be. He’s a good kid. But, as my son put it, he’s an idiot.

A young marine I know could have served as a VIP motorcade driver. His teenage driving record, however, wasn’t up to snuff. Too many moving violations. His love for speed as a teen tripped him up too many times. He wasn’t chosen for that position.

Another friend of mine stumbled just one time and had premarital sex. The result? A beautiful baby, but a changed life as a rushed wedding followed.

Do those who speed always get caught? Obviously not. Does every sexual encounter lead to pregnancy? Again, obviously not. Does every student who knowingly—or forgetfully—brings a knife on campus get busted for it? No. But why run the risk? As the saying goes, If you play with fire, you’re going to get burned.

My 6th grade class takes a field trip every year to a local serpentarium. The owner has been bit 17 times by venomous snakes. Twice, he’s almost died. His hands are gnarled and bent and stubby because of his encounters with these dangerous serpents. Does he get bit every time he handles one? No. He thinks the job is worth the risks.

Is the risk of expulsion worth bringing a knife on campus?

Is the risk of unplanned teenage pregnancy, even if you’re practicing so called safe sex, worth the momentary thrill?

I’m praying for my son’s friend, that the administration will look at his record and determine that the suspension has been enough of a lesson.  I’m also praying that this has been a sobering experience for my boys. That maybe they’ll make doubly sure they’re not inadvertently carrying a knife on campus.

I trust my boys not to do something stupid, but I also know that they are boys, and they are teenagers, and they don’t always think things through. Better that they are forewarned so that they may be forearmed.

Knives. Cars. Sex. In and of themselves, not so risky. But use them in a way not intended by God and/or law and you chance encountering a life-altering situation.

Is it worth it?

photo from http://www.news.bbc.co.uk