You Know, Knew and Have Known.

 Even before I even knew that I would be on this path and sitting in this room, you have been with me. You have known. You have known from the day I started Kindegarten that today would be the day. You have known what the testing center would look like and by whom I would sit.   You have known the topics. You have ordered the questions.   You know the people that wrote them and you already know who will grade my answers. You know where I will struggle, where my confidence will be good and when I will tire. You have worked out the details.  You have directed my steps.  In each hour  of studying, in each class that I have taken, in each and every moment of each and every day, you have had a plan that is good for me.  You have encouraged me through my husband's vocal prayers over me.  You gave him the words to speak that would most touch my heart.  You encouraged me through messages from my mom, and from his. You provided a friend who has been through this very thing to offer support and others with whom I have commiserated and learned much in the last six weeks. You have been with me and made yourself known continually during this period of concentrated preparation. I believe I am prepared for what I will see, because you were with me as I divided my time. You directed my steps. I think on the words, Your Word, that is tucked away in my heart: Your burden is easy, your yoke is light.  You are an anchor for my soul.  You are a calm in this storm. You rejoice over me, even today, with singing from the heavens. You quiet me now. In this very moment and in this very room. You are delighted in me.
You are mighty and so much more powerful than all my earthly fears and doubts. You are with me, Lord God: today and unto the end of the age. With joy and love, peace and singing, I'm here. And I thank you that I'm writing, 

Love Realized In The Drivethrough.

The sun was shining and it was a Sunday and that is when I decided it would be a good time for a fight. I don’t know that I made the decision consciously actually, but I decided it somehow or another.

He had been a little edgy all day. Something about a conference coming up, a lot of changes to implement at work the next few weeks, not nearly enough time on the golf course, and some continuing pain in his neck (that actually wasn’t me). It wouldn’t be difficult to push a little and get a reaction.

So I made my approach while he was writing an email, always the best time to begin a big discussion.

Hurtful words. Raised voices. And a bit of aggravation, but no satisfaction, in my heart.

We took a time out. Just like parents do with children, a moment of separation, of head-clearing, a time for reflection. I quickly realized the error of my ways in the provocation, he quickly realized how he didn’t intend to become so quickly frustrated, and we apologized. We forgave. We moved forward.

I’m not sure what I had set out to do, because who really, actually, wants to start a fight on a Sunday afternoon? I think the lack of anything but books (and not the dramatic, captivating kind) had driven me to push and prod. I think I sort of wanted to have a bit of actual drama. So at least I could feel something other than a tired brain. And like something other than this test matters.

We kissed and hugged and he headed out to meet a friend.

I got in the car. Turned on the keys and started in the direction of my usual caffeine fix. Soy latte. Iced. Because it’s all the better for studying. And after my unsuccessful start to the afternoon, I knew it was time I got myself into action.

We had already reconciled. Peace was with us. But something struck me as I drove.

He can yell. He can fight back when I provoke. He can ignore me and never again take out the trash. He can hurt my feelings. Or he can buy me a “just because” gift on Saturday and cook me dinner so I can study. He can write me the sweetest card I have ever read as encouragement to me to keep pressing on.

But not one bit of it affects how much I love him. I love him when I’m mad. I love him when I’m sad. I love him if he hurts my feelings or doesn’t speak in gentleness. I love him when he is angry. I love him when he struggles.I love him when we watch movies in our pajamas. I love him when he holds my hand in church. I love him every single moment of every single day. What he does, has no effect on my love for him.

And then it hit me. In a bigger way than I think I have ever really grabbed onto before. God loves me so much more than that. Right there in the drivethrough at the coffee shop with a sliver Toyota Tundra and a tatoo'ed man in front of me. He loves me when I read my Bible. He loves me when I act as a loving wife. He loves me when I honor my parents. He loves me when I call out to him in desperation. He loves me when I speak angrily towards others. He loves me when my life does less than bring glory to his name. He has loved me through each and every moment of my being. He loved me even when I was not redeemed.

Oh how thankful I am, Father, that you gave me such a great understanding of your love for me today. For loving me through all the breaths of my life. And thank you for marriage. For love, for forgiveness, for a picture of you in this daily living.

I'm here. And I'm still writing,

Abide. (And a Song for a Sunday).

"Stop trying; start abiding."
Yesterday, I was going through the papers and notes that collect in my Bible. Out of a desire to want to be in the Word more, I thought perhaps it would help me to not have things falling out of it each time I opened.
I happened upon some old sermon notes and one thing was immediately brought to my attention. It was a quote that said "Stop trying; start abiding" and it really struck a chord with me. Sometimes I get so caught up in "doing" the right things and in the religious practices, that I don't really let God in to do His work. I don't "abide" or dwell with him, but instead think on Him only at the surface. I listen to Christian radio and I sing the songs. I go to church fairly regularly. But I haven't let God get close in a while. I haven't listened for his voice or given access to my heart.
I think it was out of some fear. I came to know Christ on a personal level more than a decade ago, but I fell away from intimacy with Him at some point. I pushed for the things I wanted. I acted selfishly and didn't trust him with my heart and feelings. This left me feeling sort of in control of a few things, but very alone.
Over the past few days, in thinking on the passing of a decade and the beginning of a new one I debated what "goals" I might set for myself. I debated whether or not to post a Happy New Year type of post and whether I should make resolutions and make them public on my blog. At my Church this morning, we were encouraged,for the new year to think on the things the Lord has done for us and instead of making resolutions to read the entire Bible this year or to pray thirty minutes each day (things that we can strive to do), to remain focused on what Christ has done for us. And in so doing, He will respond by drawing us ever closer to Him.
So instead of a resolution to read my Bible everyday or to sing more songs or to pray more, I'm just going to ask God to abide with me more. To forgive me once again, like he did the first time, and to draw me ever closer. To give me a greater desire for His Word and for His Will. It can be a scary thing to trust God with all of the decisions that have to be made and to put ones selfish desires aside, but deep in my heart I know that His way is better than my way. That He has greater purposes than I can fathom. That His plan will prosper me and will give me hope.
And He has already shown himself faithful to me and that he is attentive to what is going on in my heart because he planned such a wonderful encouragement for me today at that same service. One of the worship songs for the morning was (a modernized rock version) of the very old hymn "Abide With Me."

1. Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
   The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
   When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
   Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.
2. Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
   Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
   Change and decay in all around I see—
   O Thou who changest not, abide with me.
3. I need Thy presence every passing hour;
   What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s pow’r?
   Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
   Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.
4. I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
   Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness;
   Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
   I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.
5. Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
   Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
   Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
   In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me

So in 2010, I am resolute in one thing. That I will abide, in the archaic definition of the word meaning to dwell, with Him more. And that in the abiding , I will yet again hear His voice. That I will be reassured of His grace to me. That I will again feel the closeness. And that I will again come to trust.

P.S. I decided I would post this because I am thankful for the Lord's faithfulness and hope it might be an encouragement to someone else.

Independence Pass. Maroon Bells.

I'm here. And I'll be writing...