He brings me honor

There is a verse in the Bible about how a woman can save her husband by her faithfulness. I like that idea. It is so full of hope. But I think sometimes here in this house it is flipped.

Sometimes my husband is the one saving me.

This past weekend, Hank attended a men's retreat. He had really been praying about getting some 'guy time' and had been searching out men from our church over the past few months. So when a fellowship in town, a gospel church, hosted a men's conference, hubby was jazzed!

It has been a while since I have seen him this excited! Every night, he came home and shared his pages of notes with me. He would share how fired up the pastors got and how the whole group of men went crazy in worship or shouted their amens and mmhmms and how they made him feel like one of the brothers. Just a very pale one...

I went to my parents house this weekend for a wonderful party that friends threw for my sisters' impending jobs. Emily is going all the way to Rhode Island for the next year to work as a field teacher at a working ranch. Julia is going all the way out to West Texas to work as an assistant camp director. I am proud beyond words for both of them!

When I got home, Hank told me all about his Saturday- the last day of the conference. He told me about how the pastor spoke of the need for a real life change. The theme was 'recover all' and they had talked about how God wants to recover the men's family, finances, spiritual lives and so on. They talked about praying daily for their wives and families and allowing Jesus to infiltrate every area of their lives. They talked about putting actual life change into effect.

When Hank left the church, he saw a lady walking along the side of the road. She asked if he was going into the city and said she had gotten stranded after a night with friends. He offered her a ride and drove her all the way home. On the way, Holy Spirit was prodding him to talk to her about Jesus and His love. Now, you have to understand how scary that is. For some reason, in this free country with a GPS view of the Roman Road and years growing up in church, it is still scary. Most of the time, we are pretty content to go to church, serve where we can, get to know our neighbors a bit and keep our marriage in shape. Most of the time we are thinking about 'evangelizing.'

But Hank just started talking about Jesus and telling this lady how much Jesus truly loves her. And she listened. She had read her bible before and had gone to church, but it was all a bit confusing. So he gave her a place to start an reminding her that yes, Jesus loves her so much.

On Sunday, hubby said he was going to offer to mow our neighbors grass for free. It is grass we have complained about because it can get pretty tall... So he walked over there and bargained with her, trying to get her to accept his offer. She wouldn't pay him less that twenty bucks, but he still mowed her lawn and came home smiling.

And I am a bit in awe. A bit mystified and a lot humbled. Because I don't quite know what to say. I feel so proud of him, so humbled to see him moving and living out these truths and so challenged to find the opportunities that Jesus has given me to love and to serve. And he is bringing honor into this home and he is leading in a deeper and more sensitive way with more wisdom. And I am so thankful. It feels like a grace baptism again and again and the waters are refreshing. I don't ever want to climb out.

In this place, I am weary yet rejoicing

It has been one of those days where I feel again that in this place, before these students, I feel His pleasure. He has given me high and lofty goals and I am trusting him with those, but in this classroom before my students from 7 or 8 different countries, it is pure joy.

   I listened to an interview done by Bethel Church recently. Two Olympic runners have started going to that church and attending the school of ministry. Can you imagine- being a professional runner. That career alone is proof that God made us all unique and different!!
 
   And Sarah Hall, who runs steeplechases, talked about how she knew that God wanted her to run. And she talked about her passion for justice, for the poor and how that felt so much more important. And yet God said, run. Run because I can do more through you running that by yourself-with just your two hands on the mission field. And it shook me a bit. Because you know I have struggled with my identity and finding it in a holy and high calling. And it has been a journey finding it in Jesus. I am still on the road and it is a long pilgrimage with new friends and unexpected showers and dusty roads that remind me where I came from but it is beautiful and new and it feels right.

   Standing before those students today, the ones that so intimidated me only a week ago, I feel His Pleasure. It is coursing through me and I feel 'light as a butterfly' and I know His Joy must be shining because I can hardly keep it in. I feel like bursting.

And it is in these moments that I am thankful for the trials that have taught me to speak through against the lies. To catch the lies at their early stages and see their destructive end. I don't catch them all and I, again, am still on this journey, but it is a bit of beauty I am finding in the broken places. It is restoration and redemption for the lies that have rocked our little boat. So we are learning and I am thankful. For in those moments, when Truth has scattered lies and I am lifted up to see His great tapestry of love and I catch just a glimpse of the beauty that he is weaving, I am transfixed. Transformed. Renewed. And then I am back to where I can only see the knotted underside of that tapestry but it is enough. Enough to press on, with tired feet, and to remember that these feet are beautiful. That me with my lack of grammar skills, can teach English and bond with students and proclaim His Love. It is more than Enough.

Grateful

Yesterday I had so many great ideas for blogs. Sundays seem to be so very inspired when we are able to get to church and then primarily rest during the day. And yesterday was just such a day. Hank was gone flying all day long and so, while it was a bit lonely, I had lots of time to hammer out lesson plans for my ESL classes and I had lots of time to think and relax. Oh my how I need those times!

     And it was after a very busy day at work that I headed off to teach my students. Sometimes, on certain days, I just feel the joy of the Lord. Today was just such a day. He is good and today he kept reminding me.

He kept giving me energy and motivation and when I got to class, I just felt a zing of energy and... giddyness? Yes, I think it was pure giddyness. It is always such a joy to see how my students respond when I am excited about teaching them. My attitude seems to be infectious and even the students who normally are a bit lost, seem to be getting it!

  We started with review and moved on to consonants. Normally, half of my students (for some reason it is the Somali half) seems to be tracking along with me. But the other half (the Burmese students) seem to struggle. I have a feeling that it is partially due to the fact that Burmese does not use the Roman alphabet and doesn't seem to have a lot of harsh consonants. So, these students are starting off at -square 1.

   When we finished reviewing sounds and listening to words that started with those sounds. I had students help their partners review and pronound words from the book. As it worked out, all my Somalian students were helping all of my Burmese students. They are such a sweet class and they are always helping eachother and trying to communicate in what little English they know (can anyone say Charades?!)

Well, my Somalians were helping my Burmese and it was just so hilarious because when the one students would point to a word and say it, the other student would come out with something completely different. My African students were having such a time and we were all laughing at how ridiculous we sounded. For some reason (I think it was the giddyness) we all just burst out laughing and it took a bit to stop.

This language learning thing is hard, and complex and humbling and it turns out I need my students to help me teach and they need me to remain a student long enough to learn what they need.

It was a glorious day and it all started with a good dose of His Faithfulness and a reminder that He knows exactly what he is doing even when I feel a bit lost.

Easter

Hard to believe that it is already Spring and even harder to believe Hank and I have been married for nearly half a year. SO Crazy! I hope time doesn't always fly by this quick. Unfortunately, I have a feeling it only gets faster.

    The dry Summer and wet winter have come together to create some of the most spectacular wild flowers I have seen in years. It is a wonder to behold as we drive through the country and partake of fields begging to be painted with their overflow of dainty yellow and white flowers, royal bluebonnets, and delicate pink buttercups. This weekend Hank and I are going up to New Braunfels for Easter to visit our families. Oh, I am so thoroughly looking forward to driving the long stretch of I-10 with the fields breaking into visible songs of worship on either side of me. It is a wonder to be surrounded by spontaneous beauty.

    Aside from captivating me with their beauty, these wildflowers mark for me the passage of time in a graceful sort of way. Month pass by so quickly; weeks and days even moreso. And if I don't stop to breathe and look around, then my least favorite saying becomes the refrain for my life: "Another Day, Another Dollar." Gag.

     When I walk through our neighborhood or drive to work and just fix my eyes on those flowers, I travel back in time to all the Springs of my life. 24 in all, though I don't remember a few of those earlier ones.

I go back to picking buttercups and pulling them apart to suck the sweet drops of nectar off the ends of the pollen shoots. I go back to leisurely bike rides, my legs stretching to take in the freedom and peace of a solitary ride in my neighborhood and my basket brimming with treasures like Indian Paintbrushes and illegally picked Bluebonnets. These were the best gifts one could give, I thought, and I would come home and promptly fill a little cup with water for my handpicked bouquet. The bouquet would then be set proudly upon the kitchen table for all to enjoy or given to Mom as a means of showing my love.

    Everytime Hank and I walk, I find myself picking a flower from the ground just to wonder at it for a bit before tiring of it and discarding it along our path. Twice Hank has reminded me that picking bluebonnets is illegal when he has found them stuck by the kitchen window inside a coffee cup.

     This year I didn't count the days of Lent and I didn't give anything up. Its been a rather quiet season and it has, in many ways, passed by like all the rest with little to set it apart. Perhaps I could have let Easter pass by without much thought if it weren't for "visions of rapture" bursting into sight nearly everywhere I look.

    They paint for me a picture of the Resurrection and Life. The quiet winter thaws almost too slowly for us to stop and notice but then it is Spring in the blink of an eye and the whole world is alive and has reached it zenith in full beauty and colorful splendor.

    The grave was quiet, still and forgotten by all but the faithful few. The promises of redemption, of resurrection were forgotten and misunderstood until the empty tomb and the angels and the Messiah himself proclaimed the truth.

   He is ALIVE. He is RISEN.

And in the midst of the cold shroud of grief, hope explodes and a promise is given. The promise of new life.

The Promised Returning

      Devastation. Heart-rending misery. A fire rampant, destructive, laying waste to all in its path. The effects of living on planet earth. We are the wounded. The ones who have believed the lies for so long. The lies whispered in the dead quiet stillness of night. That we are weak, unwanted, abandoned, ugly, dumb, empty, worthless.

    The lies whispered boldly- that we aren't thin enough, not sexy enough, not smart enough to be worth that job, that commitment, the marriage we have always dreamed of, a kindred spirit.

    And we feel it- the pulling on our souls as we fight the losing battle with self-talk and camouflage. If we hide long enough, maybe they won't realize who I really am. Maybe they will let me be useful without asking me to be real. They only think they want the real me.

    The most glorious trees of the forest are claimed in the fires along with the undergrowth and weeds. The fires are not descriminating- they will devour everything in their path.

      The fires of oppression burn bright and hot in a world where feminism is seductively powerful but feminity is as much under attack as ever. Women are to be strong and resilient. We are to be mothers, warriors, efficient and untouchable. Whatever happened to quiet beauty and the strength that holds families together? It is still there I suppose, but feminism has brought it more enemies than allies.

    And yet there is a beautiful glory to the devestating fires that ravage the earth on all levels and in all arenas. Eventually the fire smolders and turns to ash. Under the ash comes new, tenacious, beautiful and dependant growth. Out of the ashes comes a promise of new life. Of beauty. Of hope.

    It is always this way. In the book of Jeremiah, chapter 32, the prophet was told by God to buy a field. The land was on the verge of being captured and claimed by the ruthless Babylonians. And God was allowing it to happen. Yet he called Jeremiah to buy land that was soon to be claimed by the enemy. Why? Because the enemy would not win forever. He may win the battle, but God was not finished. In fact, he was disciplining his people and plotting his victory. In the midst of the seige came the promise that God would be faithful. That one day fields would be bought and sold again and that God would not only restore the people to their land, He would restore the people to himself. He would be their God and they would be HIS.

HIS.

There is one answer to the lies of Satan against not only the women but every citizen of earth. You can take heart and take up sword because you were created to be HIS. You are loved. You are beautiful and Strong. You are precious, unique, creative, smart. But most of all, you are Loved and you are the Bride of a King that will not stop until he has YOU. You, my friend, are pursued by the most perfect lover of all. Jesus.

Take heart. There is an enemy that is after your soul but their is a King who has already paid the ransom and set you free. He continues to fight for you. And when the fires burn their brightest, he is preparing the way for new growth, new beauty and a hope that will never fade.

Talking Rocks

I am not a big fan of being alone at home for long periods of time. I used to love it when my family would leave for the day and I could just read and read and read. I could usually go to sleep without too much trouble. But NOW that I am married, I hear every noise, every shifting of the house. I've been reading a Frank Peretti book off and on all day and my eyes are about to fall out of my skull.

     Today I felt the need to read something else. That familiar tug that drew me back to the Words that will endure forever, that will never lose relevance.

Randomly I started reading towards the end of Joshua, where God is parcelling out the land that he has given Israel. The details are so beautiful.

Joshua begins by setting up cities of refuge- where people who committed accidental murders could run and not be killed by the deceased person's family. It struck me how simple and yet beautiful God's plans are. He created peace by giving a sanctuary to those who had made such an aggegious mistake. He stopped the chain of events that would certainly be fueled by hate and grief and brought peace to the situation.

Then I kept reading. In Joshua 23, Joshua speaks his final words to Israel. He has come to the end of his life and he knows it. So he does what a father would do, what a leader would do, what any man who had shepherded a whole people group and followed in the footsteps of Moses would do...

He gives them their commission. Just as Moses gave him a great commission, he commissions the entire tribe.

"Soon I will die, going the way of all the earth. Deep in your hearts you know that every promise of the Lord your God has come true. Not a single one has failed! But as surely as the Lord your God has given you the good things he promised, he will also bring disaster on you if you disobey him. He will completely wipe you out from this good land he has given you. If you break the covenant of the Lord your Godby worshipping and serving other gods, his anger will burn against you, and you will quickly be wiped out from the good land he has given you." Josh 23: 14-16

First of all, how incredible is it that God brought every promise to fruition in the lives of his people? Wow. He kept his word completely in faithfulness. Second of all, Joshua is pretty blunt eh? No nonsense where disobedience is concerned!

After reminding the people of the faithfulness of God and the necessity to keep his covenant, he reviews the vast and complex history that brought them to where they are at that moment.
   He has labored and saved a complaining, moaning and rebellious people. God has extended grace upon grace.

"It was not your swords or bows that brought you victory. I gave you cities you did not build- the cities in which you are now living. I gave you vineyards and olive groves for food, though you did not plant them."
   Oh Lord, isn't that my prayer? That you would give me an inheritance in this place? That you would allow me to build upon the legacy others have left? That you would show me spiritual vineyards and olive groves ready for the picking?

Then Joshua gives the people a choice. God has been faithful to them despite everything. Everything.
Now the people have a choice. They can make a covenant with the Holy, Jealous God of the universe or they can turn to false gods. There really isn't a choice because God will destroy them if they take the latter and they will inevitably fail with the first option. But I can imagine that Joshua asked so that they were personally responsible for their commitment to God. It wasn't going to be their leader's faith or the Levites faith, they needed to own it if they were going to remain faithful once Joshua was gone.

The people chose to follow God(Smart choice) and Joshua made a covenant with the people "committing them to a permanent and binding contract between themselves and the Lord." (23:25b)

But Joshua was a smart leader. He knew how quickly people forget their commitments after an emotional experience. Perhaps he had struggled to stay faithful himself.
 
   So Joshua took a rock.

I have no idea why he took a rock but that is what he did.

He took a big ol' rock and rolled it under the oak tree, right where everyone would see it on the way to the tabernacle. There was no going to the meeting place of the Most High without remembering the commitment they had made.

This is the part I love.

"This stone has heard everything the Lord said to us. It will be a witness to testify against you if you go back on your word to God. "

Part of me thinks this is pretty funny. Common Josh, a stone?! Everyone knows rocks can't talk.... Isn't that where we get the expression, "dumb as a rock." But then I remember this. I remember that Jesus said if we are silent and don't proclaim is name, even the rocks will cry out! Maybe they aren't as dumb as we think.

Sometimes I forget to see the stone. Sometimes I forget that the very walls of this house hear and see my daily communion with God. These walls bear witness to the time I have spent just wasting time. They bear witness to my good intentions that never happen. They see my worship and my prayers but they don't see or hear those enough.

If these walls could talk I am not sure I would want to know what they have to say.

Have I forgotten the commitment, the covenant I made with the Jealous fierce warrior-King that loves me deeper and more fully than I can imagine?

It isn't the rock that is important but the remembering. It is grace that gives a reminder in the first place. Because He knew/knows that we would/will forget and so he surrounds us with reminders simple, clear and beautiful.

Let the walls of my house be rocks of remembrance. May the scriptures I put up be coordinates to guide my daily living.

Finding a Family

       Have you ever had one of those days that is so full of peace and joy and happiness that you just want to savor it like a good piece of chocolate or hit replay like you do that song you love? Well, folks, I had one of those days yesterday.
       Hank and I got ready for church- read, ate, dressed and got in the car. We were headed to visit a new church to see if it would be 'home' but as usual we were running a bit late and this always makes me stress out- even if I am to blame for the tardiness.
      We got to the high school where the church was meeting and walked in to the sound of Hillsong worship and folks singing. The band was made up of an older playing bass- who looked like he'd climb astride a motorcycle any minute, four ladies singing, a young guy on the guitar, and a middle aged man playing drums. Last week we both agreed that the service we went to felt a bit like a performance, but there was no performing here.
     After the service, at least 8 people came up and said hi and actually talked to us. I am fairly accustomed to having people shake my hand but usually that's all that happens. These people actually wanted to get to know us! What in the world?!
     So we talked and people were really excited to see us and to welcome us to the neighborhood. We walked out under the sign that said "You are now entering your mission field," that someone had hung above the door. I liked that being the last image of church. A reminder that it doesn't stop there.

Some of the people at the church told us about a city-wide worship gathering that evening so we decided to go.
       That evening we showed up at the church down the road that was hosting it. I had suggested maybe we skip because we went grocery shopping and were going to be late. But Hank said no, we were going and I am so glad we did.
      We walked in, both feeling a sense of expectancy. In all my years being a believer and running with the church crowd, I had never heard of churches coming together for worship- and they do it four times a year! Yet, as I walked in, I realized I had been longing for this.
      There were people from every different background you could imagine. There were people from the Spanish church, from the charismatic church, from the non-denomitional church (does anyone else find irony in the fact that Non-denom is a denomination?). The black gospel church was well represented. There were sweet little girls twirling around with flags in the aisle next to me. It was INCREDIBLE!

        The seats were nearly all full but we finally found one. It didn't really matter though because we never sat down. We were all up on our feet in full out praise for the entire hour and a half to two hours.
        When I say the Spirit moved, he MOVED. It was so incredible to see people in this city I am just beginning to call home, call on the same Lord and praise his name with passion! On the stage, the incredible beauty and diversity of His people was seen. There was even an older "hippy-lady" singing on stage with a fake sword she would pull out and wave around.
         The sword reminded me of this: we were doing battle. Our singing was releasing angels to fight for His Glory. Our singing was breaking down walls and letting him further in. It wasn't the words or how good they sounded or even the emotional high we got. It was the fact that we were willing to stop everything and be romanced. We were there to lavish love upon our Sweet Jesus and feel him lavish love on us.

I can still remember the first time Hank and I got caught up in eachother's eyes. We just sat there, right in the middle of the Bucket List, and stared at eachother. It wasn't awkward- it was awesome. Those eyes were windows to his soul and I was speechless at the affection I saw in them for me. And that is how I felt last night. It was like all I wanted to do was sit there and stare into His eyes- the eyes of a Savior who only knows love towards me, towards us. He only has good things planned, beautiful things. My Jesus is the creator of beautiful, afterall.
          So many times, when I am at church, I am so focused on singing right or looking the right way when I worship. I worry about what others think so much. At some point last night, I realized it was enough just to enjoy the process. It IS enough to just sing and smile and be filled with joy. The rest doesn't really matter. There is no magic formula. He LONGS to be with me, to enjoy me, to fix his gaze upon me and for me to do the same. It's that incredible heart-connection you can't put in words.
     And it is so good.

So today I am basking in the beauty of a God who waits for me, at the inner court, just to spend some time listening to me and talking. And I know, even as I write this, that he is smiling. Because he loves me, he loves you, and he just loves watching us be who he created us to be.