There Were Crayons

Her walls. I noticed it right away. They had art on them. Not the poised framed kind, but rather the raw kind. The kind that asks a mom to be brave. To see what others don't see. 

Masterpieces.

Little fingers. Little hands. Sparkling eyes with heaven gaze. Walls losing white and gaining glory. 

Sometimes Mommy's are the bravest when they trade a yell for a yes.

I walked around her place my whole visit and just smiled. See this Mom used to want clean and "just so", more than child mess and wild joy. It was never that she wasn't a good mom, because she was. She is epic. One of the best Mamas I have ever known. But sometimes as Moms, we feel chased by dishes. Our floors get between our toes and aim to drive us mad. We can write grocery lists in the dust on that shelf over there... And toys pile high like mini Sears Towers. We twitch to clean. Mostly because we can feel like our messes are attacking us. They tell us whether we are keeping up with that good mom bit. They can hinder us feeling in control, and on top of our lives. How us Moms can chase this wind.

But her walls were telling me a different story. A story of love. Pudgy hands with crayons. Love that sees art in the messy, because souls live here. Here in these oopsies. Here in green lines that were a two year olds vision of flowers... Flowers put on walls for her Mama. So her Mama kept it there. These lines of grace gone wild glory. Because she is learning that the kingdom of heaven is laying gentle in hearts like these. Childlike hearts, where genuine, raw faith rests. 

Moms need air. We feel overwhelmed, crowded out, used, forgotten, and even unvalued at times. We work endlessly at correcting, protecting, teaching, and loving. Often we don't get thank you'd. We ache to be seen, dare i say told we are a good mother. Told that all our efforts, sweat, and crying in a pantry days have value. But sometimes it is us that miss the message. It is being told us, but in ways we are too quick to clean up.

Legos scattered are a child feeling free to create. An environment a loving Mama has worked to nurture. 

A messy attempt to make breakfast. Eggs broken and burnt toast roasting. A serenade of wanting to be like their mom.

Toilet water all over the floor, germ laiden brush in four year olds hand. A sign Mama has taught them to clean the needed things. Even the yucky things.

Messy beds made with stuffed animals still inside... An Ode to learning stewardship. 

And the walls. Crayons on them and maybe marker too. Thumb tacks holding up pages upon pages of Child Monet and Picasso giggles. Because sometimes the thank you is in the letting go. In the embracing that the rawest, most organic grace, is found in the imperfections of our long days. In the messed up holy of the glorious undone. 

Isn't Jesus like this? Didn't He sit with the unwanted things, the messy people, the ones society couldn't clean up? 

The voices that were tuned out...He heard.

The skin that was unclean...He touched.

The ones that were soiled...He noticed and called beautiful. 

He drew attention to the ones who chose relationship, and corrected those who chose the bottom line.

He stopped and noticed when his disciples told Him they had a schedule to keep. He chose the person.

He even noticed the dead... And gave back life. Life.

So maybe we have this mothering thing backwards. Maybe we think the wrong things are success.

What if we made Jesus way with people, His way with messes and unsightly things... Our philosophy? That beauty, redemption, hope, dare I say art...lie in these things. These people. These children.

Jesus said to let the children come to Him. He didn't ask us to clean them up first, teach them manners, fluent speech, and good behavior. 

He just said, Let. Them. Come.

Jesus never minded the raw. He never turned His nose up to the tattered. He didn't shun the gross. He didn't leave the undone for the perfect. 

He taught the perfect people lessons by glorifying the weak. 

I bet Jesus would have sat beside your child and colored on the walls too. And when you woulda walked in, they both would turn...eyes full sparkle and smile. What would you say about your wall then?

Perspectives huh? Yeah. Perspectives.

I want mine to be His. His perspective so buried in my mothering that it changes me. Changed my time, my tone, my technique, my ideas. After all, He chose me, and I am hopelessly messy. I know what this love tastes like, and I want my babies to know too.

So to this Mama who led me by example... Examples of crayons and colored walls...of seeing beauty in the undone glory of children... Thank you.

And Mama, you are doing great! Your children are so blessed to have you. You are a wonderful Mother, and I am so proud of you. 

To the rest of us Mamas... Let's notice the raw beauty. The Monet in our days of madness. We are all the broken beautiful.

Circus Lights

I think for those of us "here", it would shock if we speak it. Because most of our worlds have a face. The one everyone around us sees. The person we are seen as. And that person doesn't speak such stark. But what if it's true? What if we are this raw. This undone. This agonized...

We are the always smiling. The planner. The get together event organizer.  The make others laugh and always encourage. We are the silly. The gracious. The I will help with everything. The super mom. The bible study leader. The workout woman. The homeschool poster. The good Christian girl. The pastors wife. The best friend. The worship team chick. The blaa blaa blaa. But what if there is a well... A depth we feel surging and verging to come out...

Maybe, like me, your silly is falling. The always being "the one", is aching. The expectation to be the expected person... The face of everyone's normal... This person wants to pack her bag. Sounds crazy right? But the real things ache. It surges. The real threatens to come out and no one will recognize this face. This person.... 

We are apart of a Circus. We keep our light bulbs changing out. Our wheels spinning to give everyone around us the expected results. The thing is, there is a twist. Though it would be convenient to blame any, no, everyone... It isn't that simple. We have a part in this fairway of lights. We choose to play the role. Moment after moment we step up to that plate. There are some of us who have had unfair or " unright" things layered upon us. Yes. It's true. But in this glorious unwinding God intends, for our perhaps buried but real souls, we see our part too. We rhythmically do what is expected without a break in mind motion or soul ponder. We never ask Jesus these "certain" things, and before we know it, these "responses" mold us into our confused, poised selves. Layer upon complicated layer. 

It's gruesome. Both the realization that we may not be able to keep this up, but also the realization that maybe we shouldn't. That very real possibility hitting you square in the face...

  That this isn't what God has for me. 

We weren't made to please men. We weren't made to tight rope walk our way into love, and tame lions to keep it. Costumes on, costumes off. Day in and day out. Then one day it happens. Lights flashing full blink in our faces... The whole fairway goes death quiet though wheels keep spinning. Like the call to step out has found us. Our weary, worn down, nothing left soul just stands there. Clowns blowing fire in our faces, and ticket salesman shoving tickets into our hands. Here, like this, in this, we hear it.

" Come out..."

So we try our brave. These slow feet grasping with each step, possible freedom. 

Taunting voices revile our decision. Judgers, like jugglers, throw mock in our faces. Roller coaster rides screaming "worthless"  in our ears. 

"This is all you have..."

"This is the only thing your good at..."

"This is what pays the piper..."

"This. Is. Who. You. Are."

Snarls rise and hell fights to keep you in these gates! Lights, smoke, screams, crowds. Pressure... Pressure....pressure....

But that Voice keeps pulling at you. 

Those words. 

" You were made for more than this."

So you walk out. Gate clicks behind you. Everything in you screaming this is wrong. Wrong to follow a voice others aren't. Even others who are supposed to be the same as you. The same? But you can't stay away from this Love. This song you hear in the wind... Floating like hope from somewhere deep.  Because you can't fight to keep what others Indian give any longer. There is this other pulse. A love that doesn't make you pass a test. 

Love...love...love...

Like a pulse you can't shake. An answer to all this agony. To being free from all this shame. Shame that you keep falling from a tight rope that seems to strangle you after every show. If these expectations are right, why are you dying? Why am I ready to pack up the whole of me and run to heal alone up there. Away from eyes that mock and tongues that scoff.

We were never made to please man.

The complication of all this is, what is our part? We have to let the Lord untangle this mangle. And we have to realize we play the role. People's expectations can be abrasive and corrosive... But when we say yes to that tight rope, we are forming our soul around a lie. We are committing to finding value in what suffocates. An endless asking to be wanted. Loved. Seen. Worth it. Cared for....  

We chase a taunt that will never feed us. 

About Him

So that's it then. A cutting question that separates the true from the users. To know about, or to know personal? This selective use of Jesus at times, we deem needed...Or the raw, real, wanting of Him.

Loving to know Him.

There is a difference. And this week, I cannot stop thinking about this. The way this can entangle us... Or the way this sets us free! Bear with me now, this post, a ramble stamp of my heart. 

See, Jesus isn't a pill, a dictionary, a "how to" pamphlet. He is a person. He is real. He is not a chosen faith, or a listed world religion. He isn't Christian media on Amazon, or a good song on the radio. He isn't speech on a soap box of our choosing, or a weapon to be justified in our judgements.

He is One to know. To crave. To savor as your dearest friend.

The past couple of days I have been chewing on who He is, and how much I deeply like Him. And I kept hearing that question. Do we like knowing about Him, or do we actually Like Him?! Mostly I think we are afraid of Him. You see Jesus is tough to swallow, and certainly a challenge to our convictions of thought.

He is like a complex poem, worth every ounce of read and ponder. 

He, in an instant, is our greatest experience of comfort, to only be what scares us to death the next. He says the kindest words...letting the broken, used, and torn, know they have a home. But He is also the same God who tells us if we don't forgive, we won't be forgiven.

So we make Jesus a pizza. We eat the slices we like, even sharing bites with others. But we leave other parts of the pizza alone. It's just too offensive  to ponder, that the same Jesus who says,  " they shall not inherit the kingdom of heaven..." ...for varying reasons...is the same cheesy good bite we tasted yesterday! But the truth is, Jesus isn't a pizza. He is a person. And He is complex and tough to swallow, because He loves us enough to tell us what is true. 

John Eldridge says it like this, 

"The friend who says you've had too much to drink spares you something ugly. A foghorn is offensive at a dinner party; it is the sweetest sound in the world for a ship lost in a storm. Jesus' words are not offensive. It is something in us that is offended."

" What would it be like to have someone in your life who knows you intimately, loves you regardless, and is willing to be completely honest with you? Yes, it would be a little unnerving, certainly disruptive- but doesn't part of you also crave it?"

" Thus the startling, disruptive, sometimes brutal honesty of Jesus.  The world is stone drunk, and raging at Jesus because He's trying to keep us from taking the car. Who is being unreasonable?"

We all have pictures of Jesus that aren't true. Mostly due to Christians picking a topic of passion and glorifying it. We get out our bull horn and spew out passions on marriage, sex, wine, tattoos, parenting, and end times. We make Jesus into a topic, stripping Him of person. Then the world, even us His followers, form opinions on who this God is. Because clearly George down the street says we shouldn't be fighting in the Middle East, and He loves Jesus and goes to church.... So Jesus must be a weak man of peace that isn't a war hero.  We make Jesus form into a person's passion, forgetting that no one fought a greater battle and won...ever. 

Our parents teach us about Jesus thru law... So we form Jesus into a demand.

Someone says God is love, but standing against same sex marriage isn't love... So we make Jesus a pacifist. 

Our church says a true Christian serves in the church... So we make Jesus into an acceptance/to do list.

On and on and on it goes. Like children walking in to the Sistine Chapel with paint ball guns. We add our colors to Jesus, and the world spins confused. Distracted from that hand of a God reaching out, by all the ugly blobs we call facts by our morphed belief system.

Ever thought of challenging what you believe about Him? Of seeing for yourself that the same Jesus who said forgive or you won't be forgiven...says He wills NONE to persish. Not one single soul. A contradiction...Beautiful enough to study?  You betcha!

Here is what I thought this week. His church is lost in topics. Absolutely lost. We ostracize with them, form classes around them, teach them from the pulpit. We have become empire builders, seeing who has the greatest success, followers, and  tweets. I can't get over how forgotten Jesus is in His own church. Maybe His kids haven't looked into His face in a long time. Because if we did, we would talk about HIM more...His heart, His walk on earth, His ways of handling earth moments, and His traits of identity. What we love about Him. How we enjoyed Him that day.

Glorifying topics can suffocate and make people lose eyes on God. For example...

I am around a lot of people who talk about the end times. But the thing is, I don't want to. I don't want to be lost in signs, and guesses... I don't want to prepare for horrible things, and guess at the hours we have left... If we will be here for tribulation, or sucked up to glory before.... I only want to prepare ONE way, I want to be found knowing Him.  To be too in love to change my focus to a topic.

Rogue? Perhaps I am. Wild. Odd. Uncomfortable... It's likely. But it's what I believe. Knowing Jesus personally is ALL that matters. He will tell me what's what. I believe I can focus on Him and He can tell me things when I need to know them. That I can read His Word and have He, Himself, reveal to me it's story. He is able to prepare me, even with me unaware of it. God uses people, and what a privilege it is, but He doesn't need them to interact with us personally. 

What would the church be if we studied more of His Person, not a topic? More of His essence, instead of our movements...

Maybe our marriages would overcome because we looked into Jesus heart on it, instead of doing what is expected by the Church. Perhaps choosing not to divorce because it tells a lie about how God loves. Versus staying married because it's a must in being a good Christian. 

We all do it. We can be topic worshippers. Topic spouting pros. Topic pondering meddlers. We forget we were in love once.

So maybe I will be a burr to some. I irritate my own people. But I don't have time to figure out topics and the people clicks that form because of them. I only have one soul, and I want to be found recklessly seeking One face. 

Love the Lord your God...

with all your heart...

mind...

and strength...

And love people as yourself. 

Precise. 

That's it. 

This Jesus knew we would do this. Mini empires with His name slapped on the front. Everywhere these mini kingdoms. So He narrowed things down, simplifying our tower of Babels. 

Deuteronomy 6:5-9 

Matthew 22:37-40

Remember Him? Look into His face. For a moment... being brave enough to believe it's true...

 Alone. All by Himself. He is enough.

The person of Jesus is THE reason to stay married to your spouse.

Having a friendship with Jesus IS an end times "strategy."

Recognizing His heart IS enough to change a course of action.

Knowing His thoughts CAN shape a Mama or Daddy heart.

Enjoying Him builds gratitude and defeats discontentment.

Seeing Jesus changes our perspective's on people, and how we relate to them.

Knowing Jesus personally, defies depression.

Learning what He values leads to saving unborn babies, ministering in the boycott places, and touching the dirty clothes of the poor.

Knowing Jesus, loving Him, indeed liking Him... This shapes all things. 

It's like,us Christians, think they are studying for a test, but forgot the subject line.

He warns us. We can do things IN HIS NAME, and in the end, can hear Him say, " I knew you not."

Like He is looking at the church right now. At the Christian Mommy groups, counseling centers, and Sunday school leaders and just saying it. " it's possible for you to do this, and not know Me at all."

So which is it? Risk a raw...analyze your own skin. Do you love knowing about Him, or just being in clicks that bear His name? Do you love your interaction with Jesus? Your talks, smiles, and silly moments...  Your crying out to Him in hard, and His always being there... Do you love Him so much, you wait on THAT voice, because it's the only one you really care about? 

And then this. My heart heavy about the core of it...

I believe Jesus and His Word are enough. But lately... We seem to hear scriptures and then we turn pondering them...Into an analyzing game to figure out future predictions. This attempt of sorts to define "an exact", as a way to control. An exact time line. An exact meaning. An exact interpretation. But maybe we are not supposed to see all things like God. Maybe the serpent hasn't really changed his tactics at all. We would all be wise to remember.

Jesus came. He gave us an example and therefore compassion for our struggles. He died. He rose again. Then He left a helper, this precious Holy Spirit... AND His word, this book. 

BUT WE ACT LIKE IT'S NOT ENOUGH. THAT HE IS NOT ENOUGH. Like He needs our detective skills. 

Let that hurt a bit. It sure hurts me. 

We need to hear this. All of us. Especially this week. The world is groaning. Aching for His return. False prophets are becoming thicker. Be careful what you accept quickly, simply because the speaker says they are a Christian with credentials. Because men of God exist and are precious. Used and certainly needed. But lately I have seen a lot of men claim His name and speak lofty things LIKE THEY KNOW AS GOD HIMSELF. The snares get trickier when some of our own get cocky. Be wise friends, run the ramblings through Jesus as funnel.

That's my challenge now. This gnawing want of heart. 

I want to want Jesus. I want to believe His Word to be enough. 

I grieve the Hollywood internet hype. This adding predictions to a book God already put enough in. Maybe we don't have to analyze moons turning red, connecting our own dots and assumptions to a thrumming scary song. Maybe Jesus's signs are His grace, and are enough. Maybe we should trust that voice. Choosing to not run to the tree of knowledge again...in this attempt to control with the clues He gave.

And the thing is, He gave those clues because of love. Hoping it would drive us to trust Him more. To stand in awe of the secrets He keeps. And in awe of the One who Keeps our souls. 

Knowledge can be about Him and not of Him. So this week as the mouths around me babble human interpretations of The Beginning and The End... I have been thinking differently. With less hype and fear, and more trust. 

I am sidetracked by love. This Jesus. 

My Alpha, My Omega... My favorite heart thought and soul love....  I want Him. I want His Word.  I want to trust in the Name of The Lord My God. This constant turning to look and see, is this in line with Christs heart? With His word?

I know this of myself. I lose Him when I look to men first. When I trust their opinions, interpretation, and ramble without question. And the more I get to know this Jesus, the more I see, His ways are higher than our ways, His thoughts higher than our thoughts. So I am asking Him more. "What do you think Jesus? Tell me where I should stand. Because men are loud and opinions are high. But You, my Savior, are the Rock higher. I want You. Lead me in YOUR truth. You, my only good. Your all I want, keep me in the shadow of Your wing."

Who do we look to first? 

Whose voice matters most to us? 

May it be Jesus. Always Jesus.

For you. The Sick and Weary.

So your heart aches today. I know. It's so hard to walk the same road and see no change in sight. I know you feel like your a burden, and that it's worse because you can't change a thing. That this health and all it affects may just suffocate you today. That it may just rise up high enough, to reach your throat and strangle out your hope clean through. Stability seems like this gift you can't touch, that so many of the rest of the masses take for granted. Do they thank God for not having to use sick days...Or for being able to keep those scheduled plans... For being able to watch their savings account grow, unmolested by doctor bills? Oh sweet you, they probably don't. Because sadly our human state is prone to a lack of gratitude when unchallenged. It's the hard days that stir up our eyes to see what really matters. I know it feels like you are chased by hard days. That this road God has asked you to walk feels completely unfair and even mean. But remember the moments sweet one... these moments when you were toe to toe with the intimate things of God. That secrets of hidden places were whispered to you when you were laid low in tears.

Always ponder...

His love is better than a clean bill of health.

Maybe it's your spouse heart that groans today. This burden every health hurdle seems to fling onto the one you love. How this is a threat, like a wedge,  creeping up in your relationship. Again.  They are tired of not having a normal home life. They hurt because they want you to be able to do normal things with them. To play, laugh, and run care free beside them. Maybe you watch them try not to be angry at you, but hurt worse,  when you see them get angry at God. Or perhaps it's the money. Money you cost, from a body that has no respect for a tight budget or financial plans. You. Mentioning how this alone makes you feel like an endless burden. Each bill, each new health issue, like a hatchet hacking away your ache to set him free from the ugly true of your weak body. But perhaps this is holy too. Like maybe heaven bends low to deliver the most precious of things, to the one we love most. That past the angry is this...holy...waiting. Just for them. Secrets. Wealth of a greater life. One beyond earth skin and human ache. The gift given to the caretakers. The strength, endurance, and rewards of God. Pray for them to push through for the beyond things. The things past a carefree spouse and a bill less life. Things of the Kingdom come.

Perhaps the Mama heart in you aches too. Them so at home in a waiting room, or talking to doctors like they are in the family. This ugly is normal to them. You have said it hurts each time you load them in the car, what feels to you, like dragging them through mud to yet another appt. You have told stories of how they cry. Asking why Jesus doesn't heal you. Or the sadness in their eyes when you can't join in that activity. But maybe, sweet friend, these are the moments where the veil over the holy things gets lifted. Maybe it's here, that children learn compassion, the power of prayer, and learn how to love the 1 Cor. 13 way. How to be over-comers, and mindful, "2 greatest commandment" thrivers. Just know that God is doing what you cannot imagine here. That your children are precious to Him, and He molds souls in ways we cannot imagine. The goodness of God is stark in lands full of black. Weak ones make the boldest story tellers. Tell your babies a story. A personal story about you and your Jesus. How He never fails, and how His compassion is a constant friend. Use the ache, pain, and doctor calls to reveal hidden wealth. God here.

The thing is. It may not end. Health maybe isn't the greatest wealth. If the holy things, the very secrets in the heart of God come through the obscure ways... The narrow ways... The overgrown wild paths.... Then maybe you are right where you need to be. Listen to the dirt beneath your tired feet. Look at the wildflower growing out over onto this path... Hear the wind in the trees overhead... This path may be the overgrown ugly to general, but it's quite possibly the art of God. The raw ways tell the pure stories. The truest things about real life, love, and how He gets us through. Maybe, just maybe your apart of something so much greater. This personal part in a story that God wants told. About how He loves, and how we can now too.

Because the ones who have had to lean in and look up, recognize Him best. Forced perhaps to need help first, yes. But it's these bleeding, raw wounded ones that come to know intimately the real of Jesus Christ. And maybe, just maybe, You are a part of telling the world who He really is. Not the religious Jesus of a mass of world Churches, but this personal, right here Jesus. This person who talks to His Dad about us, intercedes for us without sighing in annoyances...But rather in joy over us. This Jesus who is strong, kind, intentional, patient, and powerful! And if you don't know how, to know Him like this, or perhaps how to tell the story.... Just ask Him. Ask Him to show you Who He is in all this mess you have known for so long. Ask Him to be apart of telling His story with your weakened skin.  Tell the story to your husband or wife, and to your babies. To a doctors office, or a stranger in line at Walmart. God is good, and that isn't heard anywhere more powerful than from the lips of the still hurting.  Because if we, aching in world skin, can proclaim that we taste and see He is good, despite our challenges, our voice is heard. Loudly, like the echoing song of holy places.

And friend, you have to hear this. The bills may keep coming. Family members make look to you as the cause or annoyance. These things are real realities, and they do hurt and cut deep. But Jesus does not hold you to blame. He does not keep you at arms length. You have to embrace the love and freedom He offers, that's the way home. Because we cannot control our health. We cannot make our spouse's anger subside. We can't make our children choose compassion. But we can live our trust and Love for Jesus out quietly each step along the way. We can pray, for the hearts of the ones we love most. We can trust, that they are personal to Jesus too. And that He can accomplish in them, what a perfect bill of health never could. His ways are higher than your ways. Let Him author the souls of your family. Let Him art the ugly things, so that glory is all that remains. Because He is good. Always.

Even your broken skin, is a tapestry. Even your aching internal,  is a canvas. Ask Jesus to make Himself portrait in your life.  Let Him Psalm 139 your heart today. Wait for Isaiah 45:3. Because on this hard path, maybe Gen. 28:16 is true after all. 

Hang in there. He alone is worth the fight.

13.5 years. This us.

We were young. 21 and 22. 

This resort, these moments. You telling me you wanted to tell me a secret. So we walked the grounds as the Jazz played live. 

I had been coming here, coffee in hand, just to listen to jazz, for years. I watched couples in love, families on vacation, and waitresses serve smooth like the notes all about them. This place was romantic to me. Even before I "knew" you.

But that night... It was different. I did know you. As a friend, indeed as the only one I had ever loved. You took me to dinner here, not even knowing it was my favorite place. You, it seems, had a secret to tell. So we walked. And each place I suggested to sit, you would analyze a bit flustered. 

You.

 So young and entirely handsome, and ever weakening to my knees. This nervous, wonderful you!

Then that fountain. Way up high... In the raised walkways and gardens above. You were satisfied with it. And now I know why. Because now I know you so well. You love the secret of love. The beautiful,  just you and I, of love. And that place... It was above the bustle, tucked away, a safe space for our "us". 

I love the secret of us too. The holy space that only we may enter. The incredible of His love, in "us" exclusive. How I cherish this part of you years later... So this place you chose then, to ask me if I would... It was perfect.

You kneeled and I reeled. We laughed, and I said yes. Always yes.

                                ( Then )

                              ( Now )

The years we have shared have not been fairytale. They haven't been predictable. And they certainly haven't always been easy. We have walked hard roads. And how could we know then that the hard roads are the loom on which love's tapestry is made.

You and me. 

When three babies went home...

When jobs were lost...

When family troubles made us bleed...

When moves were made...

And expectations were crushed and hopes were lost...

When your young bride was demanding, self seeking, and lost...

When disagreements took our sleep in late night hours....

When you worked so many hours we felt exhausted and lonely...

When we looked scared into one another, and chose the counseling seats.

Love isn't easy.  It can't be. It is fought for, and won, again and again... Because love is more then diamond cut and size. More than how he proposed and what she wore. It's deeper than public affection, and weekend getaways. 

Love is a choice. It's being in love with loving, because Jesus loved us first.  Its giving that, and living that, even when you feel numb. Numb from trials done unto you. Numb from exhaustion, disappointment, and pain. Numb from it just being stinkin hard sometimes.

So being back at this resort tonight. 13.5 years later? Holding your hand as we walked to the place where you " told me your secret" with a ring... Sitting beside you there now... Like this... Smiling and joking about our youth...About how we have changed... Well, it's just been perfect. 

Perfect because we aren't. And we are ok with it. 

There has been this growing. This becoming ok with the other seeing us raw. Nakedness of soul and spirit. And in this place, choosing to be there for the other. Never entertaining the thought of quitting, and clinging to the power of promise. You and me. Being ok with showing our ugly, our deepest needs, and most shameful fears. And what we have found? 

1 Corinthians 13. That Gods love is the most romantic love. The most enduring and fulfilling love. The strength to stay in love and be love to each other.

Not the video store, movie screen, scripted love. But rather the kind that goes so deep it aches within the whole of you. An echo of His eternal promise. The slow blooming of Gods reward for the staying.

 

                           ( Then )

                               ( Now )

 

In the hard things, the scary times... It can be hard to see. But each time we have pushed through together...coming out onto the other side of the thing... He has been there. Giving us the deeper, fuller, more passionate. 

No couple can make love without Jesus Christ. That's the real raw of it. 

And how we have been learning the true of this the last 13.5 years. And would we want it any other way? I can see the answer in your every smile, kiss, and held hand.

Marital love is best when both realize they can't without Jesus. Us coming to the knowing that we are simply not enough. That bedroom passion ends if it doesn't have a reason beyond hormones and expensive jeans. That soft smiles, side winks, couch cuddles, and testimonies are born from the deep working out of Jesus Christ personal inside our selves and then given away.

                            ( Then )

                              ( Now ) 

So this looking back and looking in? It has been like warmth to me. Because baby, we are doing it. We have known the true of needing help, and the savoring Grace of His always coming. Day in and day out. In sheer happiness, and through tormenting hard. God is good. And we are "us" because He is.

I, my sweet lover, have loved each moment of you. Each season of learning, and messy grappling forward. I wouldn't trade a day. I wouldn't change a moment... Because saying yes to you has let me know what indescribable love is. With a personal God, and with you...my dearest friend. It has shown me what deep gifts are buried in the hard things. How art takes time, thought, and a settled spirit.

                       

                     ( The beginning )

Love is a journey. It comes softly and quietly each time you lay down your life in the mundane everydays. It's in the endless rubbing away my migraines, and notes in lunches made at midnight. It's in grieving the loss of our children, and in crying because we don't know how we are gonna make it out of the hard. It's in dirty dishes and cleaning carpets. Support given in the 60 hour work weeks, and going crazy mom days. It's in the courage I find when I hold your hand. In making romance when we can't find a sitter...again. Lol.  It's in the determination. 

Love is the greatest. His word tells us that. And marriage gives us a chance to know it. Thank you for giving me this gift Love. For letting me know God like this, and you like this. It has been the greatest joy of my life.

Marriage is my favorite art to witness. God makes such incredible tapestry's of testimony. And I love to hear His stories. It's encouragement to keep up the good fight. To push through and KNOW that Jesus will come and save the day. All of us in this privelege tell His story. This way He loves us, the church. Each time we forgive, love anyway, or lay down what we want. 

If your a bride or groom 1, 13.5, or 50 years in.... Stay. It's worth it. 

I for one, would love to hear your story.