Wife Corner

I have been "wife thinking" a lot this week. And most of it, I must say, has been in the way of conviction. I keep pondering over how powerful we are. How truly "scary" powerful we are... 

We hold a sort of air supply in our hands, all the time. Our actions act as a clamp. In a moment, or in habit of years, we clamp down and cut off air supply to our husbands souls. 

I know. Sounds horribly harsh and like that implies way to much power right? But I think it's true. Hence the scary part I mentioned earlier. See on the one hand we are designed, and backed by God, to be a helpmate to our husbands. We are given the power of heaven to be crazy good at this. But we have "flesh", and when we act in it, that coin flips. And by default a powerful good can become an impacting bad due going rogue. God doesn't take our position away when we walk ugly( oh this baffling grace!). But the hard of it is, He will allow us to hurt our husbands by keeping us in this place of impact while we are soul sick. 

Here is what I mean. We will go with a simple example such as how we respond the moment our man walks in the door. I confess, through the stress of the last months, my exhaustion has taken my drive. My drive loss has caused a skewed view and a complaining habit( recently lamented over and repented of...thank you Jesus!). In turn, when my sweet Mr. was walking in the door, he was met with a virtual grunt and scowl. This instantly affected his mood, and separation instantly occurs. He is on edge and inevitably snaps at kids. I get annoyed he is so grumpy and wish he would see I clearly had a hard day! See where I am going here? Now my hotsie totsie Mr. could have chosen to stay calm and kind when met with this cold front, but that's any of us in a perfect world... Here is the point though. A wife is a barometer. We single handedly can control the pressure and ambiance of the home. Under barometric pressure shifts my physical body can actually get a migraine. So is it so hard to imagine a soul can have the same? It's the position gals. This amazing gift in this place of impact.

Annoying right?

I have fallen so many times on this one. The frustration that I can't have a bad day without the whole house falling apart... That I can't feel frustrated without the family wishing mom was in a better mood... 

I can hear the wide spread amens now! Lol 

We are nurturers ladies. By God's beautiful design, we have been given this space. And it's true, we CANNOT have a bad day without impact. And it will be vast. But instead of us getting angry about it, maybe we should consider why.

We can make our husband feel unstoppable. A good woman at his back and a safe home to recharge in can literally make him feel like the luckiest man alive. This makes him work harder, smile bigger, and look forward to coming home each night. When we don't do this.... Because we have taken hurts, exhaustion, self protection, or irritation on as our driving attitude... They can start dreading coming home. Dreading the wedge they feel between themselves and their bride. Dreading the silence. Dreading the scowl, sighs, and unkind gestures we somehow think we can pass off as still being a "good" wife. We tell them with our attitude they are failing us, that they are not enough. They then get up, go to work grumpy, and when that co-worker at work rambles off a rude comment about women... He is fully charged up with reasons to agree with the notion that we are the ball and chain. Before long we lose his heart. His eyes may wander when out in public, or when alone with an internet's blinking cursor. He rationalizes it all away with:

" my wife doesn't appreciate anything I do anymore..."

" she doesn't seem to think I am attractive anymore."

" she doesn't have time to help me."

" she is always angry or annoyed."

" all she does is complain about what I don't do."

Though we are not responsible for a man grumbling about us to his friend, or abusing the Internet, we have made a point of impact to cause influence over his decisions. Influence that was given to us as a gift by God, influence we have soured with an ungrateful heart. Jesus will hold us accountable for our part. Blaming our men may work in our grumbling mind, but it won't stand in God's divine reality.

I know when they walk in the door, it can be so hard because their is so much history. Of hardships, hurts, misunderstandings, and years of coping habits. But God has made this stand out to me as a starting point this week. What home do I present when he clocks out? Holy safe and wanting, or guarded and removed...

Nathan and I have had a very hard year. We have legit reasons to be angry, hurt, exhausted, and worn clean through. And here is what we have discovered. It's not possible for us to have a thriving marriage that stands in a room full of dueling expectations. We both will lose every time. Fights will be born, and positions burrowed into. Discord, defensiveness, and rights will take our peace. And for what? To be able to stand  over the other person with a "ha! Told ya I was right!!" If your spouse is below your feet, your still haven't won. Being "right" won't warm you at night, cook you a warm meal, or make a good date. It just makes you lonely and bitter.

Jesus pulled some curtains back for us recently. We saw our alarming habits forming, and our outside hards pressing in with no end in sight. And if we have bad habits and circumstances we can't change, what can we do? 

Bring our love back.

Love doesn't have to wait to give itself away. It can always begin now. The Spirit started showing us clearly that we needed to let go of the hard and the score cards, and choose to remember instead. Remember what matters. Remember what we like about each other. What we have to be grateful for. We realized we needed to acknowledge we cannot fix our hards, in essence we had to let our house fall. This time, a soul based one. "Unless the Lord builds the house, they that labor, LABOR IN VAIN..."

God showed us we have to bring back our love through becoming focused. Focused on what we have to be grateful for. Focused on doing fun things together, and making our relationship a priority over stress and hardship. We needed to play more, laugh more, and remember what a gift the other person is.

So here is the challenge. Sometimes, it can mean that one person does this and one person not so much. So what then?

Greet them at "the door" with joy anyway.

A Kindred friend and I have been pouring over our wife callings. We have grieved God showing us ways we have cut off air supply to our men. We have been challenged by God, each other, and the word, to return to gratitude and sacrificial love. This requires brave joy. It requires an overcoming love and a standing forgiveness. We have decided to talk once a week and check up on each other's obedience and gumption. Maybe you have been convicted of similar things. Is there someone who can hold you accountable in picking up your convictions with brave joy? I'd encourage it. It's helping us!  This banding together of the beautiful, us wives with renewed passion for position.

And you know, we have started with the front door. The beginning place for what happens in a home. Here is some other things Jesus has been challenging us with:

* stay in the word

* fight to return to gratitude and a positive attitude.

* spew out on hubby less, pour out to Jesus more.

* make more relaxed memories together...like playing cards in the bedroom, or going on walks...

* take joy when your spouse compliments you. Receive it and trust it.

* over compliment, thank, and encourage

* take up joy each time you see them

 again after an absence.

These are just beginners for us. Jump starts for the weary heart. Because:

" Set up for yourself road marks, Place for yourselves guide posts; Direct your mind to the highway, The way by which you went. Return O virgin of Israel..." ~ Jer. 31:21

I am seeing the power I have been given. This amazing position God has said I may have. This incredible ability to empower someone to live a fuller, more God filled life. Because when we obey Jesus and take up our love again, we open the door for our spouse to hear the voice of God clearly. In a sense clearing a way for the greatest relationship they will ever know in heaven and while on earth.

Let's not be a trap door ladies. Open your eyes and see the power that has been given you. What will you nurture, life or destruction? We all choose in that moment they come home...

"Hi baby, I missed you!" With a wet smack on the cheek. Kiss hope right into the core of them, and never let go.

Letting Go of Home

Some of you may remember months back I told of the State taking our farm under imminent domain. It has been rough on me. I'm not going to lie. I had all these plans to get on the other side and write a beautifully inspiring blog post. But you know what? I haven't gone through it like a glowing example of brave things. Or even with a joyful heart. 

It has kinda felt like I have gone numb. Like realities move me to and fro in a torrent of motion. And in all the jerking, water swallowing, and wave crashing... All I feel I can claim is that I survived. To the cancer patient this word makes sense to me, even has honor in it... But when you feel like you never reach live, you just flop from one survive to another. Then the word hurts. A lot. 

 

I have spent months packing. Making piles for thrift shop donations, and loading trailers full of trash. I have walked my mind down memory paths, and cried more than that. All I kept thinking was that I wanted to be brave. To go through this as a good example to my kids. To give testimony to a grateful heart and a humble yes. 

For all our good intentions, sometimes there is just life. This life on a busted earth. An earth we demand heavens standards on, but continuously get shocked by the hard true of its brokenness. If there is one thing I am learning it's that I don't write this story. And though I am beginning to accept God intends me to write, I will never be the author. In all this fallen, He is the only redeeming worth.

I kept walking the halls as my home got less homey... I would cry over memories of my baby girls first steps here... Of my young boy becoming a kind young man. Moments of dancing with my husband in the kitchen, spaghetti sauce bubbling onto stove... And I hurt under the weight of a tightening chest. Like the question "why" was taking my air. 

It's just a house right? Just land. 

My land. The land my husband fought to wrap up in a package and put a red bow on for me. Land to breath in, feel safe on. You know I was raised in a city? Yeah. The millions of Phoenix. The whole time I was there I ached to be free. Like there were bands around my lungs, I couldn't breath.  I wanted to be free of constant noise, and the endless cramming of too much in spaces. 

I had a girlfriend when I was 12 there. I remember the day she told me Phoenix was putting in another freeway, and that her house was gonna be bulldozed. I remember watching them wreck that neighborhood. Piles on piles of concrete, brick, and metal that had once been someone's memories. My friends memories. I remember driving on that freeway for the first time, and knowing the exact moment I was on top of my friends old house. And all I could think was, " I can't imagine how they all must feel."

I can't imagine...

My husband and I worked to get out of that city... Of all that cram to have more. We made it to a small town first, worked some more, and then jumped and bought this home, this land. To me it was a dream come true. I made it! And I never imagined the city habit of wanting new and better, of wanting more, would find me here. But it did. 

When my husband came home that day and said, " come with me, you need to sit down baby..."  I would not, in a million years, have thought he would say what he did. 

"... For a new freeway....."

So this is what this feels like. Someone's wanting more, having no thought for what they will take. Progress? Mmm.

I had a migraine for days. I felt like the city was stalking me. Like all my efforts were in vain.

It wasn't long after that my husband said he was relieved. It must have taken him such courage to say that to me. Relieved.  Relieved?

He began telling me how he was tortured at night wondering how he could keep us here. How he could keep from letting me down. See we had bought this house when overtime was a promise... But we since had had that stripped, and gone through two job changes, on top of my husband endlessly working his own business. He told me he was so tired of being scared, and that no matter how hard he worked, it always seemed to be in vain. That some other hardship always came up.

And that's how it was. Health problems, family problems, parenting hardships, financial ups and downs, and the strains it puts on a marriage. He was right. It's been a really hard six years. We had wonderful memories too... Shooting the best firework displays ever, with my precious inlaws... My babies birthday parties... My first horse...Amazing thunderstorms rolling in...and playing with our babies in open spaces... But there was always this feeling that no matter what we did, we couldn't overcome. Hard waves kept hitting, and my Nate kept working hard to sustain. So I get it. I get why he gave his all, had nothing to be ashamed of, and could just let go now. He gave me 7 wonderful years in a dream. I am proud of him.

I was up late, in my favorite spot in my house, that kitchen farm window. Looking out at my favorite tree silhouette... Jesus told me then. How we bought this dream out of His timing. The verse He told me has been playing through my mind these past few months as I process. 

"Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it."

                                 Psalm 127:1a

In. Vain.

I knew it was true. We felt all the years of its true. This was hard to swallow. 

I'm not gonna lie. I have wanted to run. I wanted to pack up my family, a few duffle bags and run. Stow up in a cabin somewhere, and find our peace again. Let go of all of the pain of all these years, and now of losing my home to a bulldozer. I am tired. I don't like who I see in the mirror. Pain rattling me to my bones. My health isn't good. My spine causes so much sorrow in our home, I can't find words. And I have troubled relationships in my family. Trouble that tangles your soul and leaves you undone. Changes in jobs, education, friendships, and safe places... You, whoever you are, I must tell you, I haven't gone through with grace. I have struggled, wept, gotten angry, lost my gratitude, and watched my hope fade. In all of it I have felt God detoxing my soul. Rattling me down to bone. Dry, cold, shaking bone. Like I am in this field, and I can't find home. I feel alone, forsaken, unloved, and mostly forgotten. This hasn't been my finest hour. I remember the day I was at my neurologist, two hours closer to Colorado... It was hard not to just keep going. My family, a duffle bag, and desperation...this seemed perfect to me. I cried when I turned the car to go back into all this. Back into migraines, relational trials, hard schedules, and hopelessness. Walking out the loss of a dream, and my safe place on top of it all.

Life is ugly sometimes. And we collapse under its weight. I haven't known how to stand up again. How to lead my kids through with thanksgiving, and show my husband my bravest smile. 

I may be undone, but I love Him. I love Jesus for all His being. So I wanted to at least end well for Him. Because amidst all of it, I did love my time here. With tree silhouettes and birds, my Lu's visits, and tea times with Tori. Pushing my babies in swings of sunlight, and holding my husbands hand on the back porch. 

So I gave Jesus a wall. A wall of thank you's. I left the sharpie pen out, and as I worked to pack up this life, as I cried inside these walls... About everything... I wrote. Wrote ways I felt Him here. In laughter, birthday parties, and her coming down my hall for coffee each morning she visited. Ways I had known his grace and tasted His goodness while living my dream. 

People whom my home had meant something too, joined in to create this place of praise. Telling me by text from faraway states what to write, or stopping by and writing themselves. My children writing too. I loved watching it fill. See it felt like with each thanksgiving I wrote, my soul could find a way through. Like maybe gratitude really is this lifeline.

And so it filled. Slowly and sweetly, like this sacrifice offering that really did cost me. And all I wanted was to prepare the wall like an alter. Because I may be a mess, but God is good and I wanted Him to know I still believed. I wanted Him to receive a gift in every word written here. Like incense from the giving up. And when the bulldozer pulls up that day...when the walls that I felt safe in...the place I nursed my baby girl...or taught my son how to forgive and love anyway in...when the bricks crumble and that dozer hits this wall... I want it to be the fire lit on an alter of praise. The knowing that Jesus will pick up every holy word, and receive it as love. In that moment He can read every word and know, I still choose Him when He takes away.

I did my final walk through the halls, the final words on that wall. And when I locked the door, I felt so undone. Like every issue, problem, and hardship was coming with me, but I was walking away from my safe place in it all. It felt wrong. And so, so hard. But those words echo in me still..." Unless He builds the house..."

 

My name means house of God.

Now He has to rebuild me. These months, I have been bulldozed. My ideas of what should be, have fallen. My hope has been lost, and I have been unraveled. Every ounce of me is laying in a rubble pile. My heart is broken, my body is weak and havoced with pain. I can't heal myself, and I can't write my story. See I am this house. And I am falling too. Because if I don't, I won't make it. I am meant to be rebuilt. So He will come and receive me, another offering. He will read each word written on the feeble walls of my heart. And I will be incense. He will tend to me, heal me, and breath life back into these bones. He will build this house and I will be whole. Only then will I stand. Only then will I be home.

Elizabeth. House of God.

Here is the beginning of welcome. Of His purposes in me. As a wife, a mama, a writer, and friend. The beginning of being built to be His kindness and welcome to others. The end of living in vain. God has a personal plan for this skin I live in. Rebuilt, renewed, and whole. How I ache for it. 

I probably won't drive down that country road for awhile. And it will hurt when I see an off ramp on top of the place I sat at a picnic table with my kids... But I will keep my eyes on the coming. For He is good, truly, truly good! And all this rubble isn't for naught.

So here I am. In city limits again. Learning to overcome panic attacks as I walk in a neighborhood and wonder why I am here...Learning to open my curtains and be ok with houses right beside me. To settle and make cozy new walls. Learning that home, and horizons... Freedoms spaces and the staying joy...is in Him. Him alone. The safe place no bulldozer may have, and where no heart is held in vain. 

Here I am. Learning that He is my mountain, horizon, open prairie, and saving grace.

He does give.

And He does take away.

Blessed be the Name of the Lord.