My Him.

These days I ache for him. And it's a gift. Because when stress has pushed us to our end, and all we can do it let our hands fall... There is still us. 

And I love us.

My Nathan is the most enduring man I have known. He has such quiet bravery, and enduring gumption. He finds joy in being unseen, and loves to make sure his family isn't.  And when life takes too much from us...when he crumples hurting...He rises higher still in my woman heart. A man that can be a mess with his woman, becomes the hero in her heart. 

It takes a strong man, great strength to be weak.

My Nathan. His name literally means, "Gift."  Yes. Absolutely yes! And he is, in so many, many ways. 

Wives. I think a lot of times we are stupid. We want our husbands to build our dreams. Make our wish touchable. And they will bloody themselves trying. Some of this is by design, but often it's turned into a vortex because our "selfish" picks up on its possibilities.  One word and we can make them start spinning world's to put that smile on our face. 

We abuse them. 

I have learned so much already... Perhaps I have mentioned before, our Kansas is taking our home and land under imminent domain... I have been faced with what really matters. And ladies, it's not walls. It's not decor like trend. It's not wine poured for guests in a chic fashion... 

It's our home.

 Not the house...but our home. 

Is it walls, or is it him?

A woman has a make to love a house. To turn it into a home. This is a God design, and not to be taken lightly. But it's easy as time passes to let things slip out of order. And when hardships come, and they will, your walls start to shake. Pictures go crooked, and corners crack. We have to ask ourselves what we are hostesses of. 

Nathan got me my dream. I have wanted a house in the country since I was 9 years old. I still have those "child like faith" architecture plans for my horse ranch. I happened upon them a few weeks past. There was to be a hot tub in my living room, next to the kitchen with the western, swinging, saloon doors. Lol. 

 I got here. No hot tub in the living room... Thank goodness! But he built me a swinging door out of beautiful barnwood. See, he saw a dream in my eyes, and he worked it like no other. Hard at his 40, and more in his own business, then some on the side. No one on earth works harder than my Nafe. I am convinced of it. 

So this house came. I remember walking out back. Across the yard. Into the fenced in land...the place I would put our horses someday. I picked up dirt, breaking it with my fingers. I walked for a long time... I took deep breaths and saw how I could see the earth touch the sky. This?! This was where I was gonna live? Well 9yr. old dreamer, what ya think? I was in awe. Nathan gave me this. 

He toiled hard for this.

It's beautiful.

He built me that round pen. He had no idea how at the start. But he figured it out. For me. And you know what? It's perfect. Completely perfect.

He shoveled rock for hours after work. For the natural landscaping I wanted all the way around our home. I won't forget how we fought that one day. Can't even rememeber what it was about. Senseless in the scheme of what matters I am sure... He had to blow steam. When I went to look for him, he was out in downpouring rain, shoveling that rock into wheel barrel. He did that for hours. I watched water pound his back and roll off his dark hair into his eyes. He just kept working. Even when he was mad at his woman, he worked to build for me. It's a precious memory to my humbled, foolish heart.

My husband isn't a saint. Neither am I. We have hurt each other, and taken the other for granted. We have missed the mark and fallen into counseling like other wise couples before us. But even in all the hard times, he never stopped fighting to build my dreams. To lift my heart, and joy my eyes. 

But guess what. The state I love, is gonna put a bulldozer on my property. They aren't gonna think about my round pen, my landscaping, the baby girl I brought home here, or the family we are raising.... These bricks are gonna lose mortar. They are going to fall. The bedrooms of my babies will be gone. And the place our bed sets will be no more.

These dreams I had, they are going to go back to dirt. My favorite trees will be pushed into a burn pile. An off ramp will carry cars over where our family played in sprinklers and green grass. I won't lie. When Nathan came home and told me about the phone call, it took my breath. I was angry. Hurt. Confused. My dreams were for my kids to have this open space. The hope of endless possibilities where earth meets sky. I wanted horses for family rides at sundown, and for  the hope and help of disabled kids. I wanted my home to be a safe place for the unknown soldier, and the needy heart. I wanted it to be a piece of Gods heart given away to each visitor turned friend. So what do you do when your dreams, and what you thought God Himself wanted, get bulldozed? You look hard questions in the face. You feel God push you into them until scales fall from blind eyes.

When this all started happening, Nafe said something that cut me to the quick. He said, " baby, I just want to know that you won't be disappointed. That you will follow me wherever I go, because I am your home." 

My home. My home....

I struggled ladies. Hard. Mostly with disappointment, because I really thought Nathan always had been my home. In many ways He was, but not solely. Not when my dreams turned up rubble. For the first few months I pushed how we had to find another house in the country... How we could build...How we could.... Could... 

Then I started to see it. This bend in me. This determination to have a home with four walls, in a location I believed I needed, to love out in the way God has set me ablaze to. This habit of allowing my beloved to turn himself inside out for my happiness. My happiness? He is so beautiful. Perfectly flawed and inspirationally giving. 

But my vortex?

My love for my husband is deep, and it's genuine. But there are these times in marriage when Jesus pulls back the levels of us... The deep, unseen, hidden of us. And when He does, at least with me, I gasp. This? This is me? And I am humbled by my ugly. By habits I built out of small things slowly. 

It's taken me months of hard. Things unraveling with the house, and our plans. Time kept passing... Then there were other things... Health... Relationships changing... Life just being this world we broke back in Eden. There have been these Eden days. The pressure cooker of His holy, breaking me.

My husband is tired. His body is worn out. His soul has lost a lot these past years. For more reasons then just this... He has fought hard and given his absolute all. And now? 

Now I see. 

There was the day Jesus said it to me quietly. That this house being bought and dozed by the state was for Nathan. That it was time God told His heart a love story... in his language. That in doing this He would need my quiet tongue and sacrificing heart. God asked for my "let go". He asked me to lay down my life. In the daily movement of things. To lay down where I cook for my family, where I tickle my babies, and plant my flowers. He asked me for my idea of what home was. Of what a hostess of the Lord was... And it hit me. If I have to choose between four walls to call home in the country, or my husband's soul.... My husband's soul wins. So I gave the Lord my yes. I opened the fists of a nine year old dreamer, and I let go. I will watch these walls leave. My round pen of plans be taken down. My landscaping be turned over. I will for my husband. Because I want to hear the story God is going to tell him. And I want to be apart of it. 

I want to be apart of its beauty.

Home. Yeah. 

I am there. We have pulled close. This processing outloud and side by side quiet. The looking into hurting eyes and just holding. Speaking hope when the other down, and crying together when neither is up. This is love. This is life in the real way. The laying down all of it for the other way. I am not good at it, but I am determined. Because my Nathan is my four walls. This man is my home. Truly! Oh so sweetly, yes! And I cannot begin to poet out the way my soul is changing. The way our love is yet again renewing. The miracle of the staying marriages...this constant more love coming for those who just won't leave the other. 

I have told him. I can't help retelling him often. 

"Baby, you are my home. I will go wherever you go, and will live wherever you are."

And him? He is breathing different now. Hope moves between us. And we feel there is an adventure coming. A new that will unite us yet even more. 

Ladies... A man finds strength when his woman will find him the home on the journey. 

And I find the more the Lord inches me closer to this house being torn down, the more my soul is releasing. From these four walls and into the building of Nathan's heart. I find myself almost lost in my husband. Gloriously lost. Because you know what? I love us. 

 We all have these spots. And if I have learned anything this year, it's that it's ok for me to be a mess with Jesus. It's the only way I "become" before Him. It's the only way flowers rise up out of burned places. It's the way of real love and lasting promises.

My hopes for a house and it's welcome, are safe in the hands of Jesus. And I know now, that I am called to be His hostess everywhere I go, in a million small moments. And one day, I am sure He will settle me down again... But I know He wants to build a home in Nathan and I first. Because if we are not at home with Him and one another first... We mine as well not have a house at all. Welcome signs come from the heart of the person, not from the structure they sit in. And I want that. Oh how I want to be that.

Marriage is this beautiful place to me. I get to be apart of a story...of how Jesus loves, forgives, builds, and promises. What a joy it is to be here learning. 

I am a wife of nearly 13 years, and I just wanted to show you my home. Welcome!

Nerdy Birder

I am you know. A nerdy birder. And I am so cool with that. Lol 

 

  

  ( My Mom dared me to pose and put on blog. Lol. Here you go mom!)

Why birds? Because they represent God's Constance to me. No matter where I go, I can always find birds...hear birds. And each day when I open my eyes they are right there... On my porch feeders...in my Maple trees... Or singing on my barbwire fence. They do what Romans says nature does, they reveal Gods attributes to my human soul. 

             Mourning Dove Fledgling

             Juvenile Eastern Kingbird

A few of my favs?

American Robins. They sing while it is still dark. What a trait! Would love this to become a habit of mine!

Eastern Bluebird. They are the sky's perfect blue on top, with bellies brown like earth. This mix of two worlds beautifully colliding.

Sparrows. Because even birders overlook them as commonplace. But Jesus doesn't. His word says He knows when even one falls. And if God is so aware and caring about a common bird, He is aware of common me.

Cardinals. Because the male feeds the female seeds as he courts her. And well... I just love being married to my man. :) Couple birds endear me!

Hummingbirds. They have this attention and adoration for the smallest flower. How they use their wing speed faster then a racing heart, to SLOW DOWN and savor life. 

Brown Thrasher. Oh! He sings over 1,100 different songs.... Not once, but twice. As if maybe we all need reminding. This beauty sung twice for the forgetful...me!

Song Sparrows. Because they have a brown spot, somewhat shaped like a messy heart on their chest. Always singing sweet it's song.

Painted Bunting. Wow! God took out His colors and amazed! Seriously, are you still reading this? Go google one! I am telling you! :)

Nuthatches. Because walking down the side of a tree when you could just fly... That's just wonderful! Perfectly caught up in the stroll.

Baltimore Oriols. Because the first time I saw this bright orange fly across my yard here? I thought it was a joke! Do birds this bright exist for real? And they come visit me over a cup of grape jelly. Lovely.

Western Kingbirds. Because they chatter like the happiest of girlfriends. I imagine them with coffee cups on a tree branch, lost in the joy of kindred.

I could go on and on. God has captured my attention with birds. He has comforted me with their company, song, and diversity. 

                         Killdeer.

                   Male Cardinal.

The Western Meadowlark is my Kansas girl.  She perches on fences, old crop stalks, high power lines... And she sings. Loud and glorious. And just this week I was comforted by the crazy of her melody. I can be going 60mph, have windows rolled up, and kids bantering... That song gets through! And this week, I felt it's hope. And it turned into a prayer. Because we can't always slow the car of hardship down. We can't choose where it takes us sometimes in this life. We have to trust God with its speed and destination. But how kind that He makes sure the song gets through! I pass her in seconds. It's enough! Those notes crawl into cracks and find my heart. And somehow I am uplifted. Because God sees to it that the song finds me. 

Or the storms here in kansas. Epic. Incredibly Jesus. Indescribably lovely. But wow can they be strong. Clouds billow black with shades of green. Wind carving them all anvil. Rain falling hard and sideways. Trees bending submissive to power. I love it!! And with each clap of thunder I smile. Because the scriptures say thunder is God making His presence known. So there I stand by the window. Answering back giddy... "Hi Lord!" :). This last one we had I sat at my favorite chair kinda mesmerized by a thought. Yup. Those birds again. How much grip and gumption do they have to have to hold on when trees are bending low and wild, and heaven's bathtub has tipped full over? And yet we don't see birds getting jerked from the sky. And when the storm passes they are the first out, and the first singing. Jesus sees to them in every storm. He makes sure they get through, indeed that their songs are sung again. This beautiful stark after unleashed power. If He cares for birds during nature fury? Yup. Then He will for me, no matter how much I feel I am going to get ripped from this branch. He will tend to my song.

Birds. They tell these beautiful stories!

Yes. I could so go on for a long...long...time. This is good for you cat people. And Dog groupies. Because to appreciate bird wing, you have to become apart of the silence. And I have found when I do that, God speaks and hearts lift.

Things in this fast life, that call for us to slow, should get our attention. We are too distracted...we are to fast these days... We have music, news, facts, faces, and the legal espionage ( Facebook.  Yeah, I said it. You know it's true.) And I have learned that this can become the tree of knowledge in the mere moment. It's a thin line. We search and we fill. With facts that cause fear, with faces that leave jealousy. With options that leave lust and want.  Maybe the birds really know something we forget too quick. Our God is the sweetest when known in simple. The pause. The yes to stopping and looking up. 

He is in that garden stroll...not in our lust for  eating that apple of knowledge.

I use the Internet. And I often go too fast in my routine. But I am contemplating how life would change if I would ponder God more. If I would think on who He really is, to wonder at all He can do. How would my soul fill and my vain empty... I want to be a woman of wonder. A woman who finds bounty joy in the simplicity of God here. I am an attribute hunter! He says creation reveals His character to us. So much so that none have an excuse to not know Him. 

So the birds? Yeah. They are my flagship to remember. Jesus is always loving and always waiting. This sweet constant. And if I will open my clenched fists, and take a deep breath, my stomach will begin to un-knot. 

 

Feathers flying and skies unfolding, this is the story of promises.

Blogger for GFA!

Hey Readers...

 

I don't know how many readers I have. But I want to thank those that take the time. If you would care to pass on the word about my blog, I would be blessed. Because not only are my writings a personal moment with Jesus I share with you, but I have decided to blog for Gospel For Asia. I am blessed to be apart of their blogging team! 

This is a ministry that is raw and genuine through and through. My husband and I have been blessed to watch how they use donations and funding...so pure for the spead of the gospel.  Admirable! They share  the hope of my Jesus, through personal contact and ministry, pastoral and ministry training, mission schooling, trained field teams, and prayer. I deeply encourage you to look up and ponder their ministry. I am blessed to put my pen to this passion, in the hope I can be apart of Asia's voice and need for Hope.

 To learn more, please visit: 

  http://gfa.org/

As I write I encourage you to watch videos and read referenced material... in the hope you too will become apart of spreading the gospel to the hurting. Whether you do this through prayer or financial support. And in my asking that you share my blog with others...my hope is to spread the word on Asia's need as a whole, and my deep personal prayer for the protection and redemption of India's girls.

Thanks for reading, whoever you are. Be blessed, you too are prayed for.

Truly,

Liz

Beggar For Love

This horrid burning in your chest. This constant knowing that you are of the unwanted. This suffocation of never knowing where to turn or what to do. You are a disappointment. A hopeless failing. And how...how to you find an identity when these voices press at your back? Like a black storm ready to swallow you at any moment. They hiss. They nag. They oppress. 

"You are not wanted."

"You are a mistake."

"You are an embarrassment."

" You are his shame."

"You are pain."

" You are a horrible reminder of what went wrong."

"You are unloved."

So she fights her way alone. Trying to earn love. Trying to earn a kind glance, even if just for a moment. Work hard. Stay quiet. And bear the beating. 

This was Ruth's reality. This was her shredded heart.

What does it mean to be a girl, a girl in South Asia? To be born beautiful and seen as an ugly curse... To never know what God intends in the breath of female? 

What is it like to be born with hatred as your caretaker, disgust as your nurse? When warm arms and the soft words of a mother are no where to be found... When your Father's chest doesn't swell with pride, but boils with rage. 

You were supposed to be a son! 

The words "supposed to be" can be so suffocating. Because we can't change our design. We can't run far enough to change our own outcome. But we will bloody our souls trying. Because it hurts to walk alone and unwanted. It hurts to wonder if all they say is true. 

"Am I a mistake?"

Questions unanswered, in a soul searching, can suffocate. They can take life out of the living. They can torture us into submission. Submission to all these lies and into this stalking darkness. And when a soul loses hope it lets it's guard down and stops trying. It gives in to abuse as norm. To hopelessness as your story.

Girls not bringing there dad money. Girls who can't help their dad provide for the other siblings... This often leads to abuse at the hands of the father... And worse often at the hands of prostitutional depravity. Age doesn't matter, money does. 

Desperation.

To be viewed as a curse. A disappointment. A piece of meat to be used any way possible to put food on the table... What do you tell this girls soul? How do you speak to her agony? How can you tell her she brings a smile to Gods face... That He does have a plan for her... That darkness, shame, fear, and agony are not normal?

You can. Get involved. Gospel for Asia rescues and renews girls and women in South Asia... They bring them out of bondage and into Hope by introducing them to Jesus Christ. 

The gospel for Asia team sends pastors out as well as groups of trained Women. These brothers and sisters in Christ get their hands dirty and open their hearts wide to the least of these... They don't turn their eyes from the ugly of depravity and hopelessness. They. Go. In. They enter houses of shame and bring 

Hope. You can be apart of this. 

You can whisper to the lonely..."You are not alone."

You can reach out and rescue the desperate...

" You were made for more than this."

You can fund the hands and feet God has placed there for such a time as this... For these girls...right now. By your prayers. By not closing your eyes. And perhaps with your wallet.

Girls whose fathers kick their face when they ask for mercy. For love.

Please watch Ruth's story: 

http://www.gfa.org/videos/player/3233326089001/

Girls who hunker down and bear up, trying to figure out what is true about them.

Women are not a commodity. Girls are not a mistake. They are made in the image of God and have divine design and purpose.

Will you help us tell them? Can you help us seek them out, hold their faces in our hands, and tell the true...  

" You are loved."

" You are chosen."

"You are wanted."

Ruth was given this moment, and it changed her life. Love does that. Because Jesus is that. How many more women could be redeemed?

There is not a person on this earth that God hasn't attended their birth. There is not a person born who is not full of purpose. Not one born that Gods wills to perish. His blood was shed for all of us. His love waiting for each and every wandering soul. Please check out Gospel  For Asia's web page and ponder getting involved.

There are these girls. These women. And there is you. Collision despite miles?

Could be.

Check the facts. Let's all let our American Dream scales fall. Maybe it's time we all wake up.

http://www.gfa.org/women/overview/