Tag Archives: relationship

One decision that changed me as a wife

When I said I do to my husband at the ripe age of 19, I was insecure of myself as an emerging woman and distrusting of men.

Never thinking I was pretty enough, smart enough, funny enough or simply – enough – I used to watch my husband when he didn’t think I was looking when other pretty women were around. Whether passing a Victoria’s Secret store in the mall, standing in the checkout line at the grocery store or stopping at a red light, I was always on high alert, not because of him…because of me.

In my heart, I was constantly testing him. I didn’t say a word, but I was always looking and waiting for my fears to be confirmed.

Twenty-five years later, I did something that surprised me.

We were in a large bookstore, waiting on our teenagers to finish browsing. My man and I meandered to the magazines. I was interested in cooking, travel, etc. He was interested in cars.

What comes with cars? Women. Women scant-fully dressed, selling sex as much as selling cars.

Over the years, this is when my palms started sweating. This is when I watched him out of the corner of my eye, waiting for my fears to be confirmed.

Oh but this day was different. I casually walked ahead of him, beating him to the magazine racks. Quickly scanning the selection, the car magazines with provocative women were there just I as I suspected.

I quietly walked over to them and turned them over.

Then I proceeded to the cooking and travel magazines as if nothing happened.

What was different this time? Was I being proactive in fear that he may catch a glance and lose all interest in me? Was I being paranoid that this would be the day he would look for visual pleasure elsewhere? Would this be the day all of my twenty-five plus years of insecurity, inferiority, and self-deprecating secret thoughts would be proven right publicly?

Why did I do this without a second thought?

For one, my husband has never done anything that would make me fear all of the worst. He won’t even watch a bra commercial. Trust me, I know. I’ve watched him countless times–because I was watching, testing. He fast-forwards romantic scenes in PG-13 movies. He has literally told me that he will spend his entire life proving to me that he is faithful to me.

But you know what? There is another reason. One that is even bigger than his noble character.

I’ve changed as a wife.

Wives are helpmates, and I realized after all these years I wasn’t helping him navigate the minefield of everything sexual this broken world offers. Instead, I’ve been testing him out of paralyzing, unsubstantiated fear.

How doubly difficult for him it must have been all these years to not only have an insecure wife, but a wife who won’t trust him, not because of who he is, but because of who she believes she is.

He’s been fighting this battle alone. Where was his helpmate? Retreating in the shadows, biting her nails, watching and waiting for him to fail, simply because that is the reputation of other men.

I’ve decided to help him and stop testing him. I’ve grown up enough to understand the God-given teamwork of marriage and to get over my own insecurities.

It’s amazing how many other ways this this has changed me as a wife. I am now intentionally looking for ways to share more of the load mentally, physically, emotionally, financially, etc. in areas of our marriage whereas before I was content letting him carry his load while I carried mine.

I surprised myself at the ease and confidence in which I turned over those magazines. A fighter raised up in me that said, You’re not doing this to my man, with strength I didn’t know I had.

Since that day, I continue to change. I am growing stronger as a woman as I understand who I am in Christ, who I am to my husband and who I am in my own skin.

Although my man has never given me one reason to worry, a sense of protection has raised up in me. Not a territorial, jealous woman. Rather, a woman who believes in fighting for who she loves.

I am protective for him, not of him.

He is a grown man and I am a grown woman. We will make our own decisions about our respective lives. But together, we are a force to be reckoned with as I have finally opened my eyes to see that instead of watching over his shoulder at his every move, I am standing with him, back-to-back, watching over him. There is a difference.

It is no coincidence that both the website Ashley Madison and the movie War Room are making headlines at the same time. There is a battle for every soul, marriage, family, church, community, city, and state in this country.

One of my favorite Scriptures is the account of Nehemiah spear-heading the rebuilding of Jerusalem’s wall. Read it, slowly, in the context of fighting for rebuilding and strengthening marriages (from chapter 4)…

7 But when Sanballat, Tobiah, the Arabs, the Ammonites and the people of Ashdod heard that the repairs to Jerusalem’s walls had gone ahead and that the gaps were being closed, they were very angry. 8 They all plotted together to come and fight against Jerusalem and stir up trouble against it. 9 But we prayed to our God and posted a guard day and night to meet this threat.

10 Meanwhile, the people in Judah said, “The strength of the laborers is giving out, and there is so much rubble that we cannot rebuild the wall.”

11 Also our enemies said, “Before they know it or see us, we will be right there among them and will kill them and put an end to the work.”

12 Then the Jews who lived near them came and told us ten times over, “Wherever you turn, they will attack us.”

13 Therefore I stationed some of the people behind the lowest points of the wall at the exposed places, posting them by families, with their swords, spears and bows. 14 After I looked things over, I stood up and said to the nobles, the officials and the rest of the people, “Don’t be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome, and fight for your families, your sons and your daughters, your wives and your homes.”

15 When our enemies heard that we were aware of their plot and that God had frustrated it, we all returned to the wall, each to our own work.

16 From that day on, half of my men did the work, while the other half were equipped with spears, shields, bows and armor. The officers posted themselves behind all the people of Judah 17 who were building the wall. Those who carried materials did their work with one hand and held a weapon in the other, 18 and each of the builders wore his sword at his side as he worked. But the man who sounded the trumpet stayed with me.

19 Then I said to the nobles, the officials and the rest of the people, “The work is extensive and spread out, and we are widely separated from each other along the wall. 20 Wherever you hear the sound of the trumpet, join us there. Our God will fight for us!”

21 So we continued the work with half the men holding spears, from the first light of dawn till the stars came out. 22 At that time I also said to the people, “Have every man and his helper stay inside Jerusalem at night, so they can serve us as guards by night and as workers by day.” 23 Neither I nor my brothers nor my men nor the guards with me took off our clothes; each had his weapon, even when he went for water.

The battle is raging for our marriages and families. Turning over those magazines was a huge push-back against the enemy because I finally realized that my husband and I are on the same team, and have been all along. I was just too insecure to see it.

Fight for your marriage with faith, love and absolute resolve. Being on God’s team, we’re not in this alone. He goes before, and fights for, His children.

Ephesians 6:10-18 – The Armor of God

10 Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11 Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 13 Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place,15 and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

18 And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.

Photo credit here

Father’s Day Hangover

Sunday was Father’s Day. A thousand times I thought of writing this post, then stopped.

Just let the day pass quietly, I thought to myself. You’re not unlike millions of others who don’t like this day. Just get it over with and move on already.

Then it dawned on me that it is because so many of us share the same feelings about Father’s Day that I decided to post.

Fast-forwarding through the dramatic story of an unstable, fear-filled, anxiety-ridden childhood, here I sit as a wife of twenty-five years and mom to three teenagers. I glance back at my life and think about how some dreams became reality just like I had hoped – and others haven’t.

The father thing being a big one.

My stepfather walked out of our house and out of my life when I was twelve. It was the first time I felt safe in my own home.

My biological father and mother divorced when I was a baby. I met him when I was twelve, spent two weeks with him and his family when I was thirteen, then proceeded to have years of anger, bitterness and all things negative toward him long after I buried my mom when I was sixteen.

As a grown adult I told him, You can be a grandfather to my children, but not a father to me.

In my world, I had no use for a father. None. Fathers were unreliable.

Unloving.

Selfish.

Unkind.

Scary.

Hurtful.

Monsters.

Mean.

Promise-breakers.

Unpredictable.

Unsafe.

Over-powering.

Aloof.

Unstable.

Untrustworthy.

Liars.

Fronters.

Self-serving.

Forgetful.

Stingy.

Inconsiderate.

They were the bad guy.

I know what it’s like to live with the enemy while wishing for a hero to rescue me.

I also know what it’s like when that hero doesn’t come.

Yeah, my whole life I’ve had no use for fathers.

To give credit where it is due, God performed a miracle between my biological father and me. There was an unspoken truce between us, but no healing. That’s when I told him about not being a father to me. After all, I was far too old to be his little girl. That window closed a long time ago.

However, on one particular visit to our home, my father, his wife and I talked deep into the night. We agreed on one thing – we can’t do this relationship on our own. We’re too emotional. Too human. We kept getting in the way of ourselves.

So we prayed together and gave whatever relationship we had to God and asked him to be the foundation of something new between us.

Like a master surgeon, God healed our hearts. We had eight great years together before my dad died from cancer.

I often think to myself, If I had to choose between eight great years, or a lifetime of surface-level mediocrity, I’m thankful I got eight great years. Many people never get that with their fathers.

The day before he died, I sat at his bedside in the hospital and got to tell him that I loved him. Not everyone gets that opportunity. I am grateful.

But here’s the thing, Father’s Day never gets easier. More than a day on a calendar and endless greeting cards about tools and grilling and ties, this father thing is really hard with God.

This past Sunday, while responding to a text message I typed God, but my phone auto-corrected it to dad. That has never happened before, and I thought it was very ironic it happened on Father’s Day. My heart skipped a nervous beat.

My mom once gave my grandfather a plaque that read, “Anyone can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a daddy.” Que sweaty palms over Siri’s mistake.

The Bible tells us over and over that God is our Good Father, Heavenly Father, Abba Father.

That’s like telling me, Sure, the last time you touched fire it was hot and burned you, but this fire is different, it won’t burn you. 

Seriously?

Fire is fire, right?

Fathers are fathers, right?

What’s more frustrating is that I totally know better. I have been walking with God since I was fourteen and have loved him since I was a little girl.

I should get it by now.

Hence, the feelings of self-imposed guilt drive a wedge deeper between God and me.

I am so sorry for the times I have said, in not so many words, the same thing to God that I did to my biological father, You can be a Father to my children, but not to me.

You can be Savior, Healer, Deliverer, Potter, Friend, Provider, Redeemer, Rock, Refuge, and my God. But Father? Here comes the list I named above of just some of my opinions about fathers.

I desperately don’t want to lump God into any of that because I know it’s not true. But my heart stings, even all these years later, over the topic of fathers and to avoid insulting God I exclude him from it.

Then Father’s Day comes around again and here comes the plethora of Facebook posts. Ug.

It seems everyone else has the best father in the world!

I tried. I really tried to be happy for them. I “liked” throwback photos of daddies and children (now my grown friends) doing all kinds of fun things together.

I “liked” heartfelt, borderline poetic, sentiments from my friends to their dads.

Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I literally felt sick to my stomach. I couldn’t look at one more smiley photo of warm embraces or read one more post about all of the unconditional love and support their fathers gave them.

My toes inched dangerously close to a line I try not to cross – the why me line.

I really try to live my life thankful for each day and for all of the blessings I have been given. But, never having a healthy father-child relationship messes children up.

Contrary to what this broken society wants people to believe, there are lifelong repercussions for children whose fathers walked away from their families or never showed up in the first place.

I’m not talking about illness and death and things out of people’s control. Rather fathers who choose to not engage in their children’s lives, even if they share the same home address.

Silence is deafening. Absence is suffocating. A lack of effort on a father’s part is like a sucker-punch to a child’s gut – to matter their age. Rejection from a father, spoken or not, intentional or the result of a lack of words or action, is indescribable.

We were created for family. It’s how God designed this world to keep spinning. And fathers have a unique role that fills a unique place in a child’s heart.

When that hole doesn’t get filled, children look for other things to fill it.

It must be filled.

For me, after realizing nothing tangible in this world can fill it, I looked to God. But again, that’s where I start blurring the line and transpose everything I feel about human fathers onto God and the next thing I know I’m running from him, too.

I read blogs that have happy endings, or at least an end with some amount of closure.

This one is open-ended. It seems a bit depressing because we’re used to life’s biggest problems being solved in a thirty-minute sitcom.

But life is more than splices of thirty minutes and there certainly isn’t a laugh track to fill in the awkward pauses.

I’m just saying that Father’s Day is hard. Seeing God as my Good Father is hard. I don’t have this figured out yet and feel I’m not alone in the journey.

The days since Sunday seem to pass in slow motion. I’m hard on myself for not having this all figured out after so long. I’m jealous of those who have had great relationships with their fathers. It leaves a gnawing in my heart and a pit in my stomach that is only relieved by the thought that it’s over for another year and the hope that by next year I’ll be different, changed, healed.

I resist the pessimist in me which reminds me that hasn’t happened yet.

In the meantime, I intentionally stay open to the truth that God is my Good Father. I choose to not have a hard heart toward him. I continue to learn about him and his character.

Mostly, I daily rely on his mercy and grace and understanding as I wander through this desert.

Deep down, past the walls and barriers and fortresses I have locked my heart behind, I know God is the opposite from the list above. But believing it and living it out are two different things.

With everything God is to me, and knowing he is who he is despite what I may feel, a flicker of hope remains in my heart that one day I will fully accept him as my Good Father.

Through it all, I am forever grateful he unconditionally accepts me as his child.

Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. ~ Psalm 68:5

 

Photo source here

Like a dog

 

 

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Our dog is my fourth child. Dog lovers know what I mean. She curled up into my heart as much as she curls up in my lap. She is such a joy. Recently, she injured herself and we have no idea how. One minute she was fine, running around and playing with her favorite toys. The next minute she had her right hind leg pulled up and was hopping on the other three legs.

What?

When she tries to walk on her leg, it looks as if someone took a Barbie doll, removed the leg and put it on backwards. She won’t bend the knee and the leg looks dislocated.

We took her to the vet and he determined it is muscular – either a pulled or strained ligament or muscle. I am relieved it’s not something worse, but it is so sad to see her struggle around the house on her peg leg. His prescription is two weeks rest and daily puppy ibuprofen.

She is our family’s dog, but truly is my shadow. She follows me everywhere – and I mean everywhere. If I leave my desk for a glass of water, here she comes. If I go to the bathroom, she’s right there (whether I like it or not). She follows me upstairs, to the mailbox, in the backyard, and all over the house.

She picks her resting spots determined by where I will be. She has a bed under my desk, sleeps in a chair in our bedroom, and has a pillow strategically placed on the floor in our family room where she can see me in three rooms at once. She stands beside me while I do the laundry and rides with me in the car.

Right now, however, things are different. She is slow. She is in pain. After lying down for a while, her leg becomes so stiff it juts out to the side. It’s pitiful.

We encourage her to keep her leg flexible, but dogs simply don’t understand why they shouldn’t run, jump and play when hurt. We carry her outside to go to the bathroom so she doesn’t have to navigate steps. We carry her to her food bowl. We carry her upstairs. We lift her up and down from the chair. Why? Because she needs help doing the things in life that need doing.

Sometimes, I need to leave the room for just a second. I look at her and say, “Stay. I’m coming right back.” And I really am coming right back. I pass by her only to hear her limping behind me. I turn and tell her, “Please. You don’t have to do this. I’m coming right back.”

Her stubborn love for me will have it no other way. She follows me no matter how much it hurts.

Although her body may be in pain, and is holding her back from her active life, her will hasn’t budged an inch. I’ve been thinking a lot about her tenaciousness toward following me and think about what this looks like in my relationship with my Father in heaven.

When our hearts are broken, our plans ruined, or we’re too tired to move an inch, how do we respond to God?

I can throw a big ol’ pity party with the best of them and am quite good at it. I can also get mad. So mad my jaw clenches shut and I give the world the silent treatment. But does the tough stuff in life have to separate us from God?

We already know that nothing can separate God from us. Romans 8:38-39 –

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

But like a chess game, we can move farther from Him if we let ourselves. That’s called free will. And, it doesn’t have to be tough stuff. It can be an abundance of good things. Take the wealthy man Jesus had a conversation with in Mark 10:17-22 –

As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone. You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, you shall not defraud, honor your father and mother.’” “Teacher,” he declared, “all these I have kept since I was a boy.” Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.

Or how about the blessing of family? Luke describes two conversations Jesus had –

He said to another man, “Follow me.” But he replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” Luke 9:59-62 

Both passages could be discussed at great length. My purpose for including them is, do we look for excuses not to follow Christ when it’s not convenient or is unappealing or uncomfortable? Do we struggle letting go of what we think is ours to have open hands for what’s His?

My entire life I have dodged-and-weaved God’s commission in one way or another. It wasn’t the right time. I had dreams to pursue. I had an agenda for life. The work seemed too big. Too small. I didn’t want to let go of things, tangible and intangible, that I was afraid He’d ask me to give up.

I took the bigger picture He was painting and framed it in a frame three sizes too small because I couldn’t see His vision.

On the more intimate side, I skirted His pursuit of me. I was used to not trusting people. Anyone. I had such a low self-image you’d have to lift your shoe to find it. I didn’t think I was worthy or worth it.

All these years, I missed the obvious. God wants fellowship with us because He loves us. Wholly and completely and unconditionally. He wants to do life with us. What would it look like if we loved Him the same way?

I’d look like my little dog who thinks I walk on water. She just wants to be with me. Nothing else matters. She simply longs to go where I go and be a part of what I am doing.

Oh that I could have a heart like that for my Savior, who really did walk on water. To be content resting at His feet; walking in His shadow; involved in what’s important to Him. Content to just be with Him because His presence is enough.

My quirky little dog is an inspiration to me. I am reminded, as I carry her through the necessary parts of the day as she heals, that God, too, will carry me by either buffering me through a situation or equipping me for it. However, even with the injury she will not be deterred. She will follow me anyway – on three or four legs, limping or not.

So what’s causing our limp today? What have we been using as a shield, an excuse? Will we willingly follow Him even when it hurts? Can we lay down our baggage so we can pick up our cross and follow Him?

And (Jesus) said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” Luke 9:23-24

I felt some of that today and, to my surprise, more than the hurt I felt His hand on me, welcoming me as His sojourner. Whatever it costs – He is worth it and His presence is the jewel in the journey.

His stubborn love for us will have it no other way.

 

 

 

The relationship of lifelong love

I often see the same senior couple walking when I exercise. What strikes me about them is that they are always holding hands. Not just a loose touch, but a firm grip on one another. I am captivated and curious as to why.

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This particular morning was no different. There they were, walking without words, yet holding one another. As my dog and I trailed at a distance on the same familiar path, I watched them and wondered, Why the tight grasp?

I’ve thought all along that what makes this couple hold each other’s hands so tightly was their lifelong love for each other. Hopefully so, but there is something more so subtle that if I blinked I would’ve missed it.

It isn’t only because they want to – they need to.

As they walked, each took their turn ever-so-slightly losing their balance. Time and again, I watched as one of them began to lose their footing, the other one pulled them into their side for support through the strong grasp of their hand.

It was beautiful.

This husband and wife know a truth many marriages never learn. They not only want each other, they need each other. They not only need each other, they want each other.

Too often, marriages side with one or the other: I want you, but I don’t need you. Or, I need you, but I don’t want you. In either case, the relationship is doomed to stand the valleys and victories of life.

If a marriage is based solely on wanting each other, what happens when those wants change as time passes and we change with it?

Or, what if we need each other without wanting each other? This is more of a business partnership than a marriage. People use each other up until there is nothing left.

What I saw this morning was the idea that it’s both – want and need. Not out of selfish gain, but of selfless giving. Their actions gave new meaning to the vow, To have and to hold from this day forth…

That’s a vow, and a hand, worth holding on to.