To Not Drown in Shallow Waters.

  It's thinking back to those first few years, well, weeks for us, that everything you ever wanted would come true...a time to be completely self centered, self absorbed, ambitious, and lay ground work for more dreams to become a reality. Two months into our very young marriage we would be invaded by a precious little girl. Our hearts were no where near parenting...we still wanted to change the world (for God, of course).  Somehow down this road, starting there, nothing has been how we planned. We've found ourselves holding onto God for dear life & at times crawling. Here's us now:

This is almost eight years later. The smiles you see on our faces are real and the joy is there. But it did not happen blissfully and overnight for us. Thank God. I look back to our beginnings and shake my head. I had no idea how to change the world, God knew this, that is why He radically changed mine. These eight years have  proven us, and what God means to us, more than all the fifteen years of simply knowing each other ever could. There has been nightmares where we really did not know if we'd have each other in the future; there have been emotional roller coasters with our kids that made us hurt more than our broken marriage. There has been loss, much pain, and a nearness of Christ that we would have never experienced any other way. In eight years Christ has seared our bond and we truly live a three cord strand. He has been our glue, our healer, our guide, & our strength. Here's the truth: 

It may be a great love story but Christ will always be the ultimate love story! You put that cross, that sacrifice, that blood, that agony, that forgiveness, that heart, that love right smack dab in the middle of your story & it is swallowed up in victory. There are things you walk through with someone that make you know there could never be another; there are testimonies that go so deep you cannot share them, but both of you know. There is a dark place you both have walked to with Christ. Those times you and your spouse don't know each other anymore, are the times you seek to know the only one who is worth knowing. How else does God make two, one? How else does God lay two self centered people down and raise one soul walking hand in hand? 

Our "first years" have most definitely not been common, but God knew I would otherwise drown in shallow waters. Had we had a normal beginning with all the pleasures of seeking to make us happy, we'd die. Die spiritually. Somehow in the uncommon, quite young,  dark beginnings I found my soul mate, and the creator of my soul. God used our past, our marriage, & our children to radically wake us up to Him. It may not have been the road we talked about for ourselves--but God by His great mercy saw fit to take us another route; one a little more steep; a little harder to climb; a little foggier; and with a much better view. 

I do not claim to have all the answers but be encouraged here. There is nothing too far out of reach that God cannot restore, heal, cover, cleanse & make new. There is no pain too unbearable that He cannot ultimately take. There is no wrong done against you too big that He cannot give you the power to forgive. 

I have recently been thinking of Shad- rack, Me- shack & Ab- indigo. Three Hebrew men thrown in the fiery furnace, heated seven times hotter than normal. The only thing burned off of them was their bonds. The son of God in the midst of them, they walk out free. How casual we take these testimonies. How small we see our God. Have you come to a place to see Him as He really is? Over all, in all and working through all. If we really saw God in control of all, would our faith not stir a little, and would we shake the water off from the shallow, safe end and follow Him to the depths. Do we trust Him with something small as our relationships, and even bigger, our lives? Or our kids' lives? What a relief if we saw God as those in the early days did; Sovereign and mighty to save! Why is faith a shield? Why does faith literally protect from fiery darts? But here's the thing...i can't just choose to have faith in faith itself....I need my eyes opened to who i'm actually serving. There's a mighty big difference in having faith and having faith in God! The true living God. The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. This is the God I long to know. The God of the Bible who has graciously made Himself known in so many small areas of my life; I want the faith to know Him in bigger. 

What about you? How has He held out His hand and asked you to walk out of the shallow waters of life & follow Him to the depths? 

Stealing a post that's too funny to not steal.

Why I'm Thrilled to Be in a "Boring" Marriage

s

tOne busy night after the kids had gone to bed, I settled into my well-worn spot on the sofa for some mind-numbing television.

“Can you believe this guy?” I asked my husband, seated in his favorite recliner beside me. When no answer was forthcoming, I glanced over to witness an all-too-familiar scene: Deeply embedded in the recliner’s cushions lay my husband of 19 years, sound asleep.

Normally, I would giggle, turn the lights out around him and go to bed – a sort of revenge for being “abandoned” for the umpteenth time. He’d eventually wake up alone in the dark and trudge upstairs to find me tee-heeing under the covers of our bed.

But on this particular night, I gawked at my dreaming husband as if I was seeing this for the first time. Is this the man I married?

Panic gripped my soul as I realized: We’ve changed. We’re tired, boring, predictable. We’re doomed.

In the Beginning

One evening in 1992, my husband-to-be and I were at an Italian café in Pittsburgh, sipping wine and falling in love. 

“I really want to travel,” I said. “Me too,” he said. “I want to live near the ocean,” he said. “Me too,” I said. “I don’t care about money, I just want happiness,” he said. “Me too!” I said. It was a match made in heaven and our future was destined to be perfect.But maybe if we'd understood the reality of marriage our conversation would have been different: “I might have a lot of stretch marks,” I should’ve said. “That’s okay, we’ll just dim the lights,” he might’ve said. “I’m going to go bald, but ironically, hair will sprout out of my ears and nose,” he should’ve said. “I’m good with tweezers,” I might’ve said. “I have no mechanical ability whatsoever, and will feel no embarrassment if my wife handles all the home repairs,” he should’ve said. “I won’t have a problem with that for the first ten years or so, but then I’ll get really fed up,” I really wish I’d said.

But back then, we weren’t thinking about annoying habits, taxes and clogged drains. We were too busy planning our perfect life to be bothered with reality. 

Our unrealistic expectations persisted after we were engaged. “Oh pardon me!” my fiancé yelped after accidentally belching. Although he insisted he would never expel any kind of gas in front of me, it didn’t take long to erode his steely resolve. Today, expelling gas is almost commonplace and happens as soon as the urge beckons. Mid-sentence, under the covers, in the recliner. “Why do you have to burp while I am talking to you?” I’ve said. “I didn’t burp,” he’s said, sincerely oblivious.

Before marriage, I preened and pampered my fiancé like a primate, manicuring nails and plucking stray hairs to maintain his ruggedly handsome good looks. I thought this giddy nurturing stage would last forever; I had no idea that those stray hairs would later multiply so profusely that our grooming sessions now take place in the garage and involve the leaf blower. The pedicures have become completely intolerable because my husband’s left piggie toe now resembles a tiny hoof. One of the kids recently asked him if it was made out of wood. I had to draw the line somewhere. 

Are We Doomed?

So what am I saying? Are we doomed because we haven’t met our premarital expectations?

That night as I watched my husband dozing, I realized something very important: We did not meet our original expectations, we’ve exceeded them. Back when we were dreaming of a life of romance uninhibited by responsibility, stress, and aging, we couldn’t fully comprehend the complexity and depth of the marital relationship. 

What we didn’t understand then is that romance is more than candlelight dinners and adventurous travel. The foundation of long-term romance is really commitment, companionship and comfort.

Realizing this, my initial repulsion at the sight of my sleeping husband turned to adoration. And as I turned the lights out and sneaked upstairs to wait for him to wake up alone in the dark, I felt happy that our marriage is on an unexpected course to paradise.

--Lisa Smith Molinari

{{I don't know about you guys, but this made me laugh until tears fell. And sometimes we just need that gut wrenching belly laugh. Happy weekend!}}

An early Valentines.

"This is the way you woo me, with a love letter that has a strong back and thick hands, that work the long hours and find mine in the night. And has a heart that keeps its promises and holds its tongue and would die for me and the kids. What is there left to say? You use no paper and yet you write volumes. Love needs few words--it only needs will. The words that matter most are the ones that we live and you teach me how to write a love letter. The best love letters are the ones simply breathed, lived and laid down with a life. You spend your days speaking these silent words with a gravity that keeps me in orbit and your steadfastness warms me to life and a Living God. There isn't enough ink in this world to express my thanks and especially my love.

Love is the only education that matters. And it’s what you’ve taught me with these rings and these vows that have shaped me—




That you can’t wonder why love’s wearing thin when you’re wearing a thick layer of self.


There is no such thing as 50-50. There’s only giving more and being more happier. Fair and equal is an illusion. The only reality is relationship and this is what Christ lived and died. This changes everything.




What does it matter if we never have a vacation or see the Grand Canyon or if the van rusts right through or if the mattress springs sag to the floor like an old mare given out?




We don’t have to try to arrive anywhere or climb anything or try to figure out how to make it –



Just make our lives a living sacrifice and let the days makes us like gold, to arrive before His throne.



The luxury of simply, lavishly growing old with you, all the messy, magnificent days adding up to years – I don’t know if He will ever give this and it’s His alone to give –

But every day is one day more and each sunrise is one day older and what if we were done with missing out on whatever we have right now?



If the highest love gives the best gift – is the best gift the gift of the everyday?



The everyday asking and listening and picking up your socks and saying nothing and rubbing your back and laying out fresh towels and smiling more because this is what you like that best. That our life together makes me happy and you can see it, how my eyes dance.



Everyday washing your stubble out of the sink and everyday sitting beside you and everyday saying nothing but leaning over and touching your hand.



It doesn’t matter how our love started or has stumbled – only that it keeps growing. This, by grace, we can do everyday. The way love grows older everyday….




The way the days join us again at the hip and at the rib and at the heart…"

--Ann

Bits and pieces stolen from an author who write more with her life than her hands. I read these phrases from her recent posts and saw my husband's face. He is a quiet man. One of very few words. At one time this aggrivated me.....because I am one of so many. Too many. He is not the biggest romantic but his heart bleeds love. How do I know? He tells me with his life. The many times at night I tiresomly walk to the baby's room to nurse and I turn around and my husband is there. Just to be there. He is tired and needs sleep before 5:00 am--but he sacrifices this. The many, many times we are in a crowd and I can search for his face and when I find it, he's already looking at me. The way he comes home covered in mud and dragging those heavy boots. The days I didn't find a moment to spend a little extra time on myself and he compliments me the most. The way he comes home and gives every last minute before bed to these needy little children. Every last minute; because he knows it's crucial and doesn't take it lightly. The way he rolls up his sleeves and washes the dishes. The way he comes home with hard work stained hands and comments on how hard I've worked that day. The way my coffee is ready every morning with an empty mug sitting there. The way his bible is always open on the table when I walk through the kitchen in the mornings. A man who lays down his life, continually, to give better later. This is his love letter to me. I don't get a dozen roses every day--or diamond earrings every Valentines. Nor do I get a long, mushy love letter every morning....but I don't need these things for he has given me more. His life. His time. His unconditional love. A man who speaks more with his eyes than his mouth. The ring he placed on my finger means more to me now than I ever could have imagined seven years ago. He means more to me now than I ever could have imagined. A man who lays down their life for their bride---and through this woos his bride to this overwhelming love and makes her desire the same. A life of sacrifice? Count me in. For it is in this you will find your life and a love you could not find any other way.