I'm just going to come right out and say it: I've been fighting discouragement.
Discouragement is a common plague, a nearly daily deluge of bad news sent to make us feel that our circumstances are unconquerable, impenetrable, and fantastically beyond our ability to deal.
Lately, my source of discouragement has been parenting. This pregnancy has zapped me of so much energy, that I have to physically fight myself off the couch multiple times a day. I wipe little butts and feed faces and keep everything else fairly picked up, but when it comes to going above and beyond that, it has been a battle. At times, I can almost feel an invisible hand holding me down in my seated (or lying down) position, like a magnet planting me to the couch. This week I've just been down; I was finally getting an iota of energy back, and then I got a cold so I still feel blah and lousy. I just want to feel normal, like myself, again.
I'm tired. And nauseous - I just don't feel good. But I know I do not have it that bad really, so I mentally challenge myself to not complain.
However, in my heart, I feel down and easily discouraged. I hear thoughts prance through my brain:
"Your house is tiny, how is it that hard to keep clean?"
"How will you possibly have energy to take care of another child?"
"You are going to be tired and overwhelmed forever"
We have been talking about discouragement for the past few weeks in the young women's group I lead at our church on Wednesday nights. The unique thing to me about this topic is that, unlike many of the other issues we have discussed (fear, insecurity, shame), this one admittedly affects US ALL.
Let's be honest - it doesn't take much to get discouraged. Sometimes it only takes one small mishap or misstep. Sometimes we get discouraged when we are overwhelmed - we feel like there is no way we can possibly do everything being asked of us. Sometimes we get discouraged when we're bored - we feel like there's no greater purpose or calling for us. Sometimes discouragement comes from being disappointed by other people, and sometimes is materializes from within ourselves.
Discouragement leads us to ask ourselves, "What I'm doing is not working, so what's the point?"
A couple of weeks ago I was pondering discouragement in order to prepare for group. My mind wandered a bit to the human video drama that we had done in church a couple of days before. I thought about several of the really nice comments that I heard from people and was encouraged. But there was a part of me that was a little baffled, because when I create and do human videos, my head tends to tell me, "Gretchen, you're just putting random movements to music. What's so special about that?"
I have acknowledged for years that the movements certainly aren't special because I create them. They are special when, and only when, God works through them.
Without God, they are simple movements. With God, they are anointed and point people to Him.
And it was then that a thought hit me - discouragement occurs when we neglect to factor God into the situation.
When I look at the human videos I have created, it is easy to feel critical and doubtful that they will be any good at all. Even ones that I have done numerous times, I find myself praying for God to use it again, because if He doesn't it will look like a 3rd grader creating a dance to an Amy Grant song (which I maybe used to do).
Likewise, when I feel exhausted and blah and nauseous, it is easy to feel like I will never feel normal again. But when I intentionally look to God, I am able to remember that He has promised to give me the strength I need for each day. I remember that He has blessed this pregnancy and He will give me the grace I need to parent three children. He will meet me where I need Him, every time.
I had kind of a fun exercise looking at places where I get easily discouraged to see if this was true across the board - that discouragement happens when we neglect to factor in God. And sure enough, each of my discouragement triggers were all about my own lack:
- As a mother, I get discouraged by feeling like I daily fail my boys. But when I factor God in, I am reminded that I am the exact mama that my boys need and though I am far from perfect, I am present and engaged and loving. What I lack in calm demeanor, I make up for with effusive love.
- As a singer, I get discouraged by feeling like my voice is not strong or controlled enough. But when I factor God in, I am reminded that His glory is all that matters and I have nothing to prove. I am a vessel to display Him, and there's nothing I love more than displaying Him.
- As a wife, I get discouraged by feeling relationally needy or exhaustedly removed (sometimes at the exact same time!!). But when I factor God in, I am reminded that He has given me everything I need to be a good wife and I just need to be obedient. I need to engage, support, and love my husband well, and that may look different in different seasons. God has also given me a patient husband, who responds so beautifully to me when I am honest about how I am feeling.
These are things to be thankful for and encouraged by, not burdens by which to be brought low.
The list goes on and on, truly. The things that discourage me about being a counselor, or a leader of Bible studies, or a friend.....they all completely transform when I factor in God and His wondrously true promises. If discouragement happens when I am focusing on my lack and everything I don't have to conquer the looming mountains ahead of me, then certainly focusing on the abundance of the Lord corrects my perspective.
There was a sermon I heard awhile ago that centered on the story of David and Goliath. There was one very cool realization from it that has stuck with me still. The Israelite army were utterly discouraged and defeated by the presence of this 9 foot tall giant that was taunting them. They had no will or drive to fight the Philistine beast. But David was different. He did not focus on how big the giant was or how small and young he himself was. He was focused on God. When the giant shouted out his taunts one more time, David shouted back:
"You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied...All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord's and he will give all of you into our hands." - 1 Samuel 17: 45, 47
Though the threats against us loom large and can easily discourage, sometimes we just have to shout back at them about all that God has promised us in His Word. We are more than conquerors indeed (Romans 8:37). You've got to know His Word to speak His words. Read, memorize, and yes, actually speak them out loud!
Finn is getting to the age when he loves picking flowers for me. He recently picked me a bouquet of dandelions - "They're yellow! My favorite!!". I placed them on the counter so I could look at them and let him know how much I appreciated his thoughtfulness. However, the next day, he saw them there and was bewildered when he saw the flowers (weeds?) wilting. He was a little sad about it, so I had to explain that the flowers died because they were plucked from their life source. This was a brilliant illustration to me that all things die when they are plucked from their life source. When we picture a world without God factored in, of course we get discouraged. This world is all kinds of mess. But when we factor Him in, or rather, when we center our lack and our resources around Him, we are connected to the Life Source from which we have everything that we need.
Discouragement is simply writing God out of the equation. So next time you feel discouraged, write Him back in. Even better, write everything else around HIM! Remember that He formed you and loves you and is with you. Speak His promises over your situation and see if you aren't immediately encouraged.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Thursday, April 2, 2015
What's the Big Deal About Easter?
When I was a little girl, my mom was in a singing group called Gentle Praise. They sang beautifully and wore matching outfits and I loved watching them sing together. My favorite song that they sang was "This Same Jesus", a wonderful '80's song that ministered each time they performed. I would sit there, wide-eyed, and just feel the feels that the song brought about. I found the original version today on YouTube, and while it's not Gentle Praise, the Talleys do it decently too! If you listen, enjoy the excellently vintage Jesus clips:
This song still actually ministers to me, but not quite in the same way. When I was little, I used to imagine Jesus' second coming and watch for Him in the clouds when they broke apart in particularly beautiful ways. It still stirs my heart to think of it. This song speaks powerfully of the past that was and future to come.
But...what about the present?
I know that Easter has gotten rather muddled over the last couple decades or so. The Easter Bunny is a distraction and Jesus didn't die just so we could give our kids candy. I know it's easy to get lost in all of that. It's easy, especially for those who don't know Jesus, to ask, "What's the big deal about Easter?"
For me, it absolutely is that Jesus was beaten and crucified for my sins.
It absolutely is that His love for me is what compelled him onward when He could have ravaged everyone ravaging Him.
It absolutely is the fact that the grave could not hold Him and He overcame death in His power.
His mission of love met it's fulfillment on the cross, but it is still with us today. He died, rose to life, and intercedes for us. His love goes on!!! And on, and on, and on (and on, and on, and on).
And on.
A couple of months ago, I was inspired to put together a drama for Easter Sunday. From the moment I set out to do it, I heard a song and knew exactly what the drama should be about. Essentially, the message of the drama is this: that the same Jesus who conquered the grave on that first Easter morning is the same Jesus who is with us in our current messes. He has the same power and love that He did then, and He still lavishes it on us.
How does He still work today?
- He loves us as a father. In Luke 11:2, He instructs that when we pray, we address Him as Father. A good father is a protector and provider, armed with strength and love. God is the ultimate good Father. Psalm 68:5 says, "A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in His holy dwelling." Psalm 27:10 says, "Though my mother and father forsake me, the Lord will receive me."
A father doesn't go anywhere. A father is a steady foundation. A father sacrifices for His children.
Yep. Nailed it. That's my God.
- He sends angels in times of need. I can't speak of this personally, because I'm not sure I've ever felt it. But I absolutely believe it. I've heard amazing testimonies about it. Hebrews 1:14 says, "Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvations?" Luke 4:10 says, 'For it is written, 'He will command His angels concerning you, to guard you carefully.". There's a peace that comes when we realize His heart to love and protect us. Bad things happen, yes, but nothing outside of the realm of His control. His love, in any situation, is absolutely trustworthy.
- He uses us. As Christians, we do not get to sit idly by when things are going well. We are to be diligent and active in our prayer and worship. Through these things, God will often compel us to minister to others. 2 Corinthians 2:1 says, "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God." Have you ever felt compelled to walk with someone through a hard time because you understood exactly how awful it was? That's God using you. So we wouldn't get too puffed up about that, we are reminded that it is through His strength that we serve (1 Peter 4:11). Philippians 2:13 : "For it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose".
These are interesting times. There is so much nastiness and hate absorbing our world. In all of the headlines and stomach-churning news, our ONLY HOPE remains Jesus. His love, His sacrifice, His mercy.
God is working in every day life. He's there if you're looking.
For anyone reading this who has no plans to attend a church on Easter Sunday, I invite you to mine. It is a love-filled church and you will be welcomed as you are. Services are 8:30 and 10:45 (Donuts at 10 and Easter egg hunt for the kiddos at 10:15)!!!
Sioux Falls First Assembly of God, 6300 W. 41st St.
Matthew 28:1-10: "After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb. There was a violent earthquake, for an angel of the Lord came down from heaven and, going to the tomb, rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothes were white as snow. The guards were so afraid of him that they shook and became like dead men. The angel said to the women, 'Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples: 'He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him'. Now I have told you'. So the women hurried away from the tomb, afraid yet filled with joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them, 'Greetings,' he said. They came to him, clasped his feet and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, 'Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me'".
Monday, March 16, 2015
On Rejection
For years and years and years, as long as I can remember really, I have had this insecurity complex where I brace to be rejected. I had this feeling that unless someone explicitly shows they like me, they probably don't.
If someone didn't specifically tell me I was doing a good job, I assumed I wasn't meeting their expectations or was letting them down.
Even further, if someone actually rejected me, even jokingly, I took it hard.
I cowered in the face of rejection.
Please like me. Please, please like me.
At times this has led me to extreme perfectionism. Because you can't get hurt if you do it best, right?At times it has led me to extreme apathy. Because you can't fail if you don't even try, right?
I don't know if I even really realized this about myself until the last year or so. I just thought I was super sensitive. I was going through some really personal battles, and by praying and studying and listening, I discovered a deep root of rejection in my life.
As has been typical since I became a mother, I have recently become privy to how rejection affects me in my most important role of being a mother. We bring our baggage everywhere, especially into parenthood.
My relationships with my two sweet boys are pretty different. From the time Finn was born, I absolutely loved him. I couldn't wait until the moments when he got older and would cry when I left. I stated on numerous occasions that I wanted to be his #1 person; I was his mommy after all. But Finn didn't show his love for me in the way for which I was longing. He was typically happy to leave my side, especially if he was staying with one of his grandmas. He lit up whenever Matt walked into the room, but not usually when I would. He was used to me. I think he maybe cried once when I dropped him off at nursery, but otherwise he was like, "See ya, mommy! I'ma gonna play!"
Because he didn't show his love for me in the way that I was expecting/hoping, the slightest feeling of rejection from him rocked me. I didn't feel loved, and what kind of mother isn't loved by her own child??? When he would openly prefer someone else, I would feel humiliated. The first time he said he didn't like me upon being disciplined, I shattered. When I would go to pick him up and he would cry to stay where he was, I would bite my lip and try to wait until I got to the car to cry. I felt unloved and unwanted, by my child. Children are supposed to fill our love holes....right?
It's tough acknowledging my frailty in these memories. It's tough to document.
On the other hand, Jonas has always preferred me. Even as a newborn, he clearly wanted me more than anyone else. He lights up when he sees me and looks for me before anyone else. He bawls when I drop him off at the nursery. He always, always comes to me when he gets hurt and needs comfort. He loves me the way I always expected my child would.
But.
A few weeks ago, Matt's mom watched the boys while Matt and I helped with the women's conference at our church. It wasn't until last week, however, that I saw a note hanging on the fridge:
My heart lit up. "He thinks that about me?! Wow!" I had no clue that Finn felt that way about me. It touched my heart more than I can really express. It may seem small, but that kind of indicates how much I needed to hear something positive. I feel like a failure much of the time.
When I mother from a place of rejection, or trying not to feel rejected, it doesn't inspire affection in my children. My kids are going to show they love me by their own unique personalities. Jonas is social and effusive - ask anyone. Finn is shy at first and then blossoms.
It is impossible to compare the two - each so different, each so special.
I truly believe that both of my boys love me and look to me as their safe place, they just show it in different ways. It's taken awhile to get there, but get there I did. I am learning to operate from a place of believing that I am loved.
When I mother from a place of knowing, truly knowing, that I am loved, it frees me up. I don't need to try to earn their love, because it's all mine already. I don't need to prove myself worthy as a mother; God has made me a mother, therefore I am anointed to be a mother. I am still learning confidence in mothering, but I can say this - the more confident I am, the more confident, secure, and stable my boys are. I've seen it.
Entering our relationships from a place of insecurity always leads us down a road where nothing will ever be good enough. No affirmative word will last long enough. No quality time will be perfect enough. No gift will be thoughtful enough.
I remember when Matt and I were dating and I felt insecure in our relationship, afraid of being rejected. I couldn't wait to have a ring on my finger to prove to others (and myself) that this wonderful man really did want me. But then as soon as we were engaged, I started counting down the days until we were married. Because you see, if it was legal, then there was no getting out it for him!!
It was three months into our marriage when I started getting hit hard with insomnia and anxiety. Looking back, I know that a big part of the anxiety for me was - once again - fearing that he wouldn't want me anymore if I fell apart on him. Well, fall apart I did. And yet - he still wanted me. He still pursued my broken heart. He was steady in all of my unsteadiness.
That year taught me that Matt can see me at my lowest.....and still love me. Because of that year, I know that Matt will stick with me through it all. My insecurity in our relationship slowly dissipated. I was no longer waiting to be rejected.
When I relate to others from a place of brokenness, it only begets more brokenness. It breeds insecurity and jealousy and striving for my selfish ambitions. I constantly try to protect myself.
WONDROUS NEWS!!!! I can relate to them from the place of fullness that Christ offers me - I do not need them to fill me because, honey, I'm full. Let me pour out. I can know that I'm not enough on my own but I'm enough in Jesus. Let me be available when you need me, I can be there.
This is when I have the joy to do the tough task set before me. I have peace that I am doing a good job and don't need nearly as much outward approval.
1 John 3:18-22 :"My dear children, let's not just talk about love; let's practice real love. This is the only way we'll know we're living truly, living in God's reality. It's also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves. And friends, once that's taken care of and we're no longer accusing or condemning ourselves, we're bold and free before God!! We're able to stretch our hands out and receive what we asked for because we're doing what he said, doing what please him." MSG
If someone didn't specifically tell me I was doing a good job, I assumed I wasn't meeting their expectations or was letting them down.
Even further, if someone actually rejected me, even jokingly, I took it hard.
I cowered in the face of rejection.
Please like me. Please, please like me.
At times this has led me to extreme perfectionism. Because you can't get hurt if you do it best, right?At times it has led me to extreme apathy. Because you can't fail if you don't even try, right?
I don't know if I even really realized this about myself until the last year or so. I just thought I was super sensitive. I was going through some really personal battles, and by praying and studying and listening, I discovered a deep root of rejection in my life.
As has been typical since I became a mother, I have recently become privy to how rejection affects me in my most important role of being a mother. We bring our baggage everywhere, especially into parenthood.
My relationships with my two sweet boys are pretty different. From the time Finn was born, I absolutely loved him. I couldn't wait until the moments when he got older and would cry when I left. I stated on numerous occasions that I wanted to be his #1 person; I was his mommy after all. But Finn didn't show his love for me in the way for which I was longing. He was typically happy to leave my side, especially if he was staying with one of his grandmas. He lit up whenever Matt walked into the room, but not usually when I would. He was used to me. I think he maybe cried once when I dropped him off at nursery, but otherwise he was like, "See ya, mommy! I'ma gonna play!"
Because he didn't show his love for me in the way that I was expecting/hoping, the slightest feeling of rejection from him rocked me. I didn't feel loved, and what kind of mother isn't loved by her own child??? When he would openly prefer someone else, I would feel humiliated. The first time he said he didn't like me upon being disciplined, I shattered. When I would go to pick him up and he would cry to stay where he was, I would bite my lip and try to wait until I got to the car to cry. I felt unloved and unwanted, by my child. Children are supposed to fill our love holes....right?
It's tough acknowledging my frailty in these memories. It's tough to document.
On the other hand, Jonas has always preferred me. Even as a newborn, he clearly wanted me more than anyone else. He lights up when he sees me and looks for me before anyone else. He bawls when I drop him off at the nursery. He always, always comes to me when he gets hurt and needs comfort. He loves me the way I always expected my child would.
But.
A few weeks ago, Matt's mom watched the boys while Matt and I helped with the women's conference at our church. It wasn't until last week, however, that I saw a note hanging on the fridge:
My heart lit up. "He thinks that about me?! Wow!" I had no clue that Finn felt that way about me. It touched my heart more than I can really express. It may seem small, but that kind of indicates how much I needed to hear something positive. I feel like a failure much of the time.
When I mother from a place of rejection, or trying not to feel rejected, it doesn't inspire affection in my children. My kids are going to show they love me by their own unique personalities. Jonas is social and effusive - ask anyone. Finn is shy at first and then blossoms.
It is impossible to compare the two - each so different, each so special.
I truly believe that both of my boys love me and look to me as their safe place, they just show it in different ways. It's taken awhile to get there, but get there I did. I am learning to operate from a place of believing that I am loved.
When I mother from a place of knowing, truly knowing, that I am loved, it frees me up. I don't need to try to earn their love, because it's all mine already. I don't need to prove myself worthy as a mother; God has made me a mother, therefore I am anointed to be a mother. I am still learning confidence in mothering, but I can say this - the more confident I am, the more confident, secure, and stable my boys are. I've seen it.
Entering our relationships from a place of insecurity always leads us down a road where nothing will ever be good enough. No affirmative word will last long enough. No quality time will be perfect enough. No gift will be thoughtful enough.
I remember when Matt and I were dating and I felt insecure in our relationship, afraid of being rejected. I couldn't wait to have a ring on my finger to prove to others (and myself) that this wonderful man really did want me. But then as soon as we were engaged, I started counting down the days until we were married. Because you see, if it was legal, then there was no getting out it for him!!
It was three months into our marriage when I started getting hit hard with insomnia and anxiety. Looking back, I know that a big part of the anxiety for me was - once again - fearing that he wouldn't want me anymore if I fell apart on him. Well, fall apart I did. And yet - he still wanted me. He still pursued my broken heart. He was steady in all of my unsteadiness.
That year taught me that Matt can see me at my lowest.....and still love me. Because of that year, I know that Matt will stick with me through it all. My insecurity in our relationship slowly dissipated. I was no longer waiting to be rejected.
When I relate to others from a place of brokenness, it only begets more brokenness. It breeds insecurity and jealousy and striving for my selfish ambitions. I constantly try to protect myself.
WONDROUS NEWS!!!! I can relate to them from the place of fullness that Christ offers me - I do not need them to fill me because, honey, I'm full. Let me pour out. I can know that I'm not enough on my own but I'm enough in Jesus. Let me be available when you need me, I can be there.
This is when I have the joy to do the tough task set before me. I have peace that I am doing a good job and don't need nearly as much outward approval.
1 John 3:18-22 :"My dear children, let's not just talk about love; let's practice real love. This is the only way we'll know we're living truly, living in God's reality. It's also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves. And friends, once that's taken care of and we're no longer accusing or condemning ourselves, we're bold and free before God!! We're able to stretch our hands out and receive what we asked for because we're doing what he said, doing what please him." MSG
Friday, February 6, 2015
Tough Questions
Finn is big on the idea of bad guys. He is at the developmental stage where he understands things as being good or bad. Black or white.
Because of his daddy, he knows by heart who Superman's bad guys are, who Batman's bad guys are, who Flash's bad guys are. He's fascinated by the whole thing! He even has a made-up game called "Bad Guys" that he loves to play - especially with his two grandmas. There is a part of him that even thinks the bad guys are cooler than the superheroes they fight.
The other day, he was playing with his superhero guys at our kitchen table. Then I hear him ask, "Mommy, who is Jesus' bad guy?". Caught a little bit by surprise, it took me a second to find the answer in my mind. After a pause, I replied, "Jesus' bad guy is Satan." This just led to more questions:
"Why is he bad?"
"What bad things does he do?"
"What does he look like?"
Uhhhhh...
These questions each stretched my brain more than I would have guessed. I almost called Matt and asked him to tag in for me. In my head I know the answers to these questions, or at least an idea of where to find them in the Bible. But putting the answers into comprehensible words was new for me. I've never had to answer questions like these because, for the majority of my life, I have been surrounded by other Christians. It has been years and years since I have been asked to explain my faith. One of my favorite things to do is to talk about Jesus, but it is always with other believers.
My life has been mostly surrounded by my family, my youth group, my high school friends (all my best friends were Christians), my Christian college friends, my Alaskan church friends, my Arkansan Chi Alpha friends, my current church friends. Christians.
The closest I have come to an experience of tongue-tie-mania like this one was with my good friend from Minneapolis, Eric. Eric and I worked together as servers at Old Spaghetti Factory. He was one of my favorite people to work with because he was almost always happy. We both loved to laugh and sing while we were preparing salads and getting drinks. We sang so much that we began to label each night we worked with a different theme: one night would be strictly Broadway songs, another would be songs from Disney movies, etc. He was my good friend. He is gay.
Eric knew I went to a Christian college. We often had deep conversations about God and theology. One night he looked at me and asked, "Gretchen, do you believe I am going to hell when I die?"
I felt like someone had simultaneously sucked all of the air from my lungs and the thoughts from my head. I gave him an honest answer and our friendship only grew stronger.
The Word teaches us that we need to be ready for when people ask us the tough questions.
1 Peter 3:15 - "But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope you have. But do this with gentleness and respect"
Colossians 4:6 - "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone"
I know why I live a life of faith: I love God and I can see evidence in my life of His goodness and faithfulness. But can I explain it to others? I need to be able to articulate:
A) so I can appropriately teach my children about God and
B) so that I can answer others' questions about Him as well.
I know my own testimony and what God has brought me through. My experiences with God give me a good start but they are not everything I need to know.
My oldest son is just reaching the age where he is beginning to ask the tough questions. I have years and years of tough questions ahead of me, and it's not something I take lightly.
I pray that I not only provide the answers to point my boys towards Jesus, but that I also am able to live what I speak.
One thing is certain: I cannot do it all on my own.
"If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." - James 1:5
Because of his daddy, he knows by heart who Superman's bad guys are, who Batman's bad guys are, who Flash's bad guys are. He's fascinated by the whole thing! He even has a made-up game called "Bad Guys" that he loves to play - especially with his two grandmas. There is a part of him that even thinks the bad guys are cooler than the superheroes they fight.
The other day, he was playing with his superhero guys at our kitchen table. Then I hear him ask, "Mommy, who is Jesus' bad guy?". Caught a little bit by surprise, it took me a second to find the answer in my mind. After a pause, I replied, "Jesus' bad guy is Satan." This just led to more questions:
"Why is he bad?"
"What bad things does he do?"
"What does he look like?"
Uhhhhh...
These questions each stretched my brain more than I would have guessed. I almost called Matt and asked him to tag in for me. In my head I know the answers to these questions, or at least an idea of where to find them in the Bible. But putting the answers into comprehensible words was new for me. I've never had to answer questions like these because, for the majority of my life, I have been surrounded by other Christians. It has been years and years since I have been asked to explain my faith. One of my favorite things to do is to talk about Jesus, but it is always with other believers.
My life has been mostly surrounded by my family, my youth group, my high school friends (all my best friends were Christians), my Christian college friends, my Alaskan church friends, my Arkansan Chi Alpha friends, my current church friends. Christians.
The closest I have come to an experience of tongue-tie-mania like this one was with my good friend from Minneapolis, Eric. Eric and I worked together as servers at Old Spaghetti Factory. He was one of my favorite people to work with because he was almost always happy. We both loved to laugh and sing while we were preparing salads and getting drinks. We sang so much that we began to label each night we worked with a different theme: one night would be strictly Broadway songs, another would be songs from Disney movies, etc. He was my good friend. He is gay.
Eric knew I went to a Christian college. We often had deep conversations about God and theology. One night he looked at me and asked, "Gretchen, do you believe I am going to hell when I die?"
I felt like someone had simultaneously sucked all of the air from my lungs and the thoughts from my head. I gave him an honest answer and our friendship only grew stronger.
The Word teaches us that we need to be ready for when people ask us the tough questions.
1 Peter 3:15 - "But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope you have. But do this with gentleness and respect"
Colossians 4:6 - "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone"
I know why I live a life of faith: I love God and I can see evidence in my life of His goodness and faithfulness. But can I explain it to others? I need to be able to articulate:
A) so I can appropriately teach my children about God and
B) so that I can answer others' questions about Him as well.
I know my own testimony and what God has brought me through. My experiences with God give me a good start but they are not everything I need to know.
My oldest son is just reaching the age where he is beginning to ask the tough questions. I have years and years of tough questions ahead of me, and it's not something I take lightly.
I pray that I not only provide the answers to point my boys towards Jesus, but that I also am able to live what I speak.
One thing is certain: I cannot do it all on my own.
"If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." - James 1:5
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Weak for a Reason
I yelled at both of my boys in the span of 2 minutes today and had them both crying.
Finn was being mean to Jonas, so I scolded him. Then, when I was talking it out with Finn, Jonas wandered into the bathroom and began playing in the toilet water. The Finn-had-urinated-in-the toilet-and-not-flushed-it toilet water.
Surprised and aghast at both of their actions, I cried out in my primal mommy yell. I'm not proud about it. In fact, I felt pretty stinking lousy about it.
The strength of my emotions and the tough time I have controlling them 100% of the time is one of my personality traits that brings me the most shame. Emotions are telling, and they are always all over my face. My sin is tough to hide.
I am emotionally effusive. And often, it hoists on me a heaping pile of shame.
We have been talking about feelings of shame and condemnation in the young women's study that I lead on Wednesday nights. It's a tricky beast. So often when we feel ashamed for our behavior, we feel like we need to allow ourselves to feel beaten up about it. We need to suffer a bit, just to make extra sure that we learn our lesson. Right?
But here's the thing: when we beat ourselves up about our behavior, we are totally negating the price that Jesus paid for us. We take Him out of the equation and pretend that living victorious all depends on us.
When we dwell too long on our areas of weakness, we forget God's grace.
Our weaknesses serve as a powerful reminder that we absolutely cannot live victoriously on our own.
Paul said in that he delighted in his weaknesses because it reminded him of how much he relied upon his Savior. "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ's power may rest upon me." 2 Corinthians 12:9
Paul's wisdom astounds. He's absolutely right. When we allow our weaknesses to become a catalyst to remind us of God's strength, we are on the path to living a life of freedom, unrestrained by the chains of condemnation that wish to remind us of our failings.
If you are frustrated with your own weaknesses and shortcomings, thank God. Thank Him that He didn't leave you to do life on your own and will come with His help the exact moment you ask. It's when we admit that we need Him that He takes our invitation and enters our situation.
"Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:16 NIV
"So let's walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help." Hebrews 4:16 MSG
One of my favorite chapters in Scripture talks about how God uses the challenges we face. It's one I have turned to time and time again since we entered the ministry field, because it reminds me of my purpose and calling:
2 Corinthians 1:3-6 - "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, if is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer."
Essentially what Paul is saying here is that when we go through hard times, we better learn how to invite God in and thereby deal with the dilemma. I believe this works even for learning how to handle daily struggles. We learn His grace when we invite Him into our failures. People who have not suffered much are typically short on compassion. They don't have an understanding of how to deal with tough times because they have no clue what tough times feel like.
God wants to comfort everyone. And He uses us to do it.
"I think God often allows you to be afflicted with the very disease He's called you to heal. If he didn't allow you to feel the pain, you would be arrogant." - Steven Furtick
I can speak personally of this, because another area of my life that threatens to cover me with shame is my struggle with anxiety (another emotional issue). Similar to Paul's thorn in the flesh that he is speaking about in 2 Corinthians 12, I have begged God to take it from me. My insides are crying out, "God, I trust you! I do! I know you love me and care for me but I'm so afraid of the pain that this (whatever it is) could bring!"
And I hear the steady drumbeat of shame coming closer: "If you really trusted God, you wouldn't be tied in knots right now. Some child of God you are. Look at all He's done for you and you're still doubting? What a sorry excuse. You're faithless. You're pathetic. Pull it together already. Some kind of example you are setting for all those young women you claim to care so much about. Weak. You're weak and far too sensitive for your own good. God is so disappointed in you."
Shame is ugly. But through grappling through the dark space of anxiety and the accompanying shame, I have felt first-hand the freedom that comes from inviting God into the situation. Now, when I feel the familiar tug of those feelings, I know what to do. I've felt the solution. And I can proclaim ecstatically, first-hand, the blessing of peace.
It is absolutely one of my primary goals in life to help others who are dealing with the same things I have felt suffocated by. Through the blood, sweat, and tears of this life, I have learned that we are each weak for a reason. We are weak to teach us compassion for others. We are weak to remember that we cannot live free all on our own. We are weak to invite God in and receive His mercy.
So today, I got to a place where I thanked God for my flourish of weakness. I prayed that He would help me to be more patient and understanding the next time, and that He would help me walk through a cranky day of parenting.
And then I prayed that He would use my weakness to comfort and bless someone else. Maybe, someday, I'll be able to say to another young mom, "I understand. You're not alone. Try not to beat yourself up about it. Go love on your kids, tell them you're sorry, and receive God's grace for your sin."
We're made to need God.
Yes, shame is ugly. But grace is so, so beautiful.
Finn was being mean to Jonas, so I scolded him. Then, when I was talking it out with Finn, Jonas wandered into the bathroom and began playing in the toilet water. The Finn-had-urinated-in-the toilet-and-not-flushed-it toilet water.
Surprised and aghast at both of their actions, I cried out in my primal mommy yell. I'm not proud about it. In fact, I felt pretty stinking lousy about it.
The strength of my emotions and the tough time I have controlling them 100% of the time is one of my personality traits that brings me the most shame. Emotions are telling, and they are always all over my face. My sin is tough to hide.
I am emotionally effusive. And often, it hoists on me a heaping pile of shame.
We have been talking about feelings of shame and condemnation in the young women's study that I lead on Wednesday nights. It's a tricky beast. So often when we feel ashamed for our behavior, we feel like we need to allow ourselves to feel beaten up about it. We need to suffer a bit, just to make extra sure that we learn our lesson. Right?
But here's the thing: when we beat ourselves up about our behavior, we are totally negating the price that Jesus paid for us. We take Him out of the equation and pretend that living victorious all depends on us.
When we dwell too long on our areas of weakness, we forget God's grace.
Our weaknesses serve as a powerful reminder that we absolutely cannot live victoriously on our own.
Paul said in that he delighted in his weaknesses because it reminded him of how much he relied upon his Savior. "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ's power may rest upon me." 2 Corinthians 12:9
Paul's wisdom astounds. He's absolutely right. When we allow our weaknesses to become a catalyst to remind us of God's strength, we are on the path to living a life of freedom, unrestrained by the chains of condemnation that wish to remind us of our failings.
If you are frustrated with your own weaknesses and shortcomings, thank God. Thank Him that He didn't leave you to do life on your own and will come with His help the exact moment you ask. It's when we admit that we need Him that He takes our invitation and enters our situation.
"Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:16 NIV
"So let's walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help." Hebrews 4:16 MSG
One of my favorite chapters in Scripture talks about how God uses the challenges we face. It's one I have turned to time and time again since we entered the ministry field, because it reminds me of my purpose and calling:
2 Corinthians 1:3-6 - "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, if is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer."
Essentially what Paul is saying here is that when we go through hard times, we better learn how to invite God in and thereby deal with the dilemma. I believe this works even for learning how to handle daily struggles. We learn His grace when we invite Him into our failures. People who have not suffered much are typically short on compassion. They don't have an understanding of how to deal with tough times because they have no clue what tough times feel like.
God wants to comfort everyone. And He uses us to do it.
"I think God often allows you to be afflicted with the very disease He's called you to heal. If he didn't allow you to feel the pain, you would be arrogant." - Steven Furtick
I can speak personally of this, because another area of my life that threatens to cover me with shame is my struggle with anxiety (another emotional issue). Similar to Paul's thorn in the flesh that he is speaking about in 2 Corinthians 12, I have begged God to take it from me. My insides are crying out, "God, I trust you! I do! I know you love me and care for me but I'm so afraid of the pain that this (whatever it is) could bring!"
And I hear the steady drumbeat of shame coming closer: "If you really trusted God, you wouldn't be tied in knots right now. Some child of God you are. Look at all He's done for you and you're still doubting? What a sorry excuse. You're faithless. You're pathetic. Pull it together already. Some kind of example you are setting for all those young women you claim to care so much about. Weak. You're weak and far too sensitive for your own good. God is so disappointed in you."
Shame is ugly. But through grappling through the dark space of anxiety and the accompanying shame, I have felt first-hand the freedom that comes from inviting God into the situation. Now, when I feel the familiar tug of those feelings, I know what to do. I've felt the solution. And I can proclaim ecstatically, first-hand, the blessing of peace.
It is absolutely one of my primary goals in life to help others who are dealing with the same things I have felt suffocated by. Through the blood, sweat, and tears of this life, I have learned that we are each weak for a reason. We are weak to teach us compassion for others. We are weak to remember that we cannot live free all on our own. We are weak to invite God in and receive His mercy.
So today, I got to a place where I thanked God for my flourish of weakness. I prayed that He would help me to be more patient and understanding the next time, and that He would help me walk through a cranky day of parenting.
And then I prayed that He would use my weakness to comfort and bless someone else. Maybe, someday, I'll be able to say to another young mom, "I understand. You're not alone. Try not to beat yourself up about it. Go love on your kids, tell them you're sorry, and receive God's grace for your sin."
We're made to need God.
Yes, shame is ugly. But grace is so, so beautiful.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Held
I would venture to say that most people tend to take the last few days of a year to glance back at the roller coaster ride that they have just been on. For better or worse, the ride is nearly over. Memories were made, mistakes were made, progress was made.
For some the past year holds a whole lot of pain. For others, it was one giant celebration. For most it falls somewhere in the middle.
Years end, and we look backward but move forward.
Maybe it was just me and the people by whom I am surrounded, but as a whole? 2014 seemed kind of tough. If finances or health weren't a concern, then something funky was going on in a core relationship. If all was well on the surface, then things were in turmoil in the inner person. If it wasn't happening personally, then it was all over the news or Facebook and it still took a toll on one's peace of mind. It kind of felt like many people I know rode wave after wave of bad, sad, or dire news. It kind of feels like many I know are limping near the finish line of this year, bruised and beaten up.
Bring it on, 2015.
Last week was a little rough, physically speaking, for my Finny Matt. He got his fingers shut into a door, banged his head on a bookshelf and a cousin's teeth, and cracked his elbow on a hard piece of wood in our couch while jumping (how?????)
He's been a little beaten up.
In each of these situations, as he has screamed a scream that makes the hair on my arms stand at attention and my heart beat a million miles a minutes, in those first few moments all I have done is held him. I held him, as close as I could, as tight as he would let me. I didn't want to examine or fix his pain until I could calm his spirit. In those first few moments, I held him and whispered into his ear, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay." I'm not sure if I was trying to convince myself or him.
As I was holding and whispering to him after cracking his chin on our bookshelf, it made me think of how God reacts when we feel brutally beaten up by the world in which we live. Maybe, perhaps, in those first few moments or days when we experience a sharp pain, His main priority is to hold us. He's not fixing our problem or our wound, He's not making it less painful, He's simply holding us as tight as He can.
It is tempting to get impatient with God when we feel like it takes Him too long to address our aches and pains. However, if we could tune into His whisper above our screams of pain, we may just even hear Him whisper, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay. I've got this. We'll get through this. Hold on."
I was talking about this metaphor with my in-laws, and my father-in-law looks at me a little skeptically. "So, what if someone's arm gets ripped off and they are gushing blood? Would you still just want to hold them?"
It made me think. My metaphor-driven brain can sometimes simplify things too much, I admit.
As a mother, if this happened to my son, I would grab the arm (I think. If I could. I might gag.) But I would still hold him close as possible as we made our way to the nearest emergency room.
As our Father God, I absolutely believe that He picks up our broken pieces (which don't gross Him out at all) and still holds us tight before He begins the process of healing our wounds.
I guess I go into all of this to encourage someone who may be reading this. If your world has been rocked, or your year has been awful, or you don't know which end is up, chances are good that God is holding onto you as tight as He can.
Pay attention; you may even be able to feel His touch or hear Him whisper words of comfort.
Psalm 119:76: "May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant".
Isaiah 40:11: "Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock, gathering the lambs in his arms, hugging them as he carries them, leading the nursing ewes to good pasture."
For some the past year holds a whole lot of pain. For others, it was one giant celebration. For most it falls somewhere in the middle.
Years end, and we look backward but move forward.
Maybe it was just me and the people by whom I am surrounded, but as a whole? 2014 seemed kind of tough. If finances or health weren't a concern, then something funky was going on in a core relationship. If all was well on the surface, then things were in turmoil in the inner person. If it wasn't happening personally, then it was all over the news or Facebook and it still took a toll on one's peace of mind. It kind of felt like many people I know rode wave after wave of bad, sad, or dire news. It kind of feels like many I know are limping near the finish line of this year, bruised and beaten up.
Bring it on, 2015.
Last week was a little rough, physically speaking, for my Finny Matt. He got his fingers shut into a door, banged his head on a bookshelf and a cousin's teeth, and cracked his elbow on a hard piece of wood in our couch while jumping (how?????)
He's been a little beaten up.
In each of these situations, as he has screamed a scream that makes the hair on my arms stand at attention and my heart beat a million miles a minutes, in those first few moments all I have done is held him. I held him, as close as I could, as tight as he would let me. I didn't want to examine or fix his pain until I could calm his spirit. In those first few moments, I held him and whispered into his ear, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay." I'm not sure if I was trying to convince myself or him.
As I was holding and whispering to him after cracking his chin on our bookshelf, it made me think of how God reacts when we feel brutally beaten up by the world in which we live. Maybe, perhaps, in those first few moments or days when we experience a sharp pain, His main priority is to hold us. He's not fixing our problem or our wound, He's not making it less painful, He's simply holding us as tight as He can.
It is tempting to get impatient with God when we feel like it takes Him too long to address our aches and pains. However, if we could tune into His whisper above our screams of pain, we may just even hear Him whisper, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay. I've got this. We'll get through this. Hold on."
I was talking about this metaphor with my in-laws, and my father-in-law looks at me a little skeptically. "So, what if someone's arm gets ripped off and they are gushing blood? Would you still just want to hold them?"
It made me think. My metaphor-driven brain can sometimes simplify things too much, I admit.
As a mother, if this happened to my son, I would grab the arm (I think. If I could. I might gag.) But I would still hold him close as possible as we made our way to the nearest emergency room.
As our Father God, I absolutely believe that He picks up our broken pieces (which don't gross Him out at all) and still holds us tight before He begins the process of healing our wounds.
I guess I go into all of this to encourage someone who may be reading this. If your world has been rocked, or your year has been awful, or you don't know which end is up, chances are good that God is holding onto you as tight as He can.
Pay attention; you may even be able to feel His touch or hear Him whisper words of comfort.
Psalm 119:76: "May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant".
Isaiah 40:11: "Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock, gathering the lambs in his arms, hugging them as he carries them, leading the nursing ewes to good pasture."
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Harmony
Harmony can be defined in multiple ways:
1. "An orderly or pleasing combination of elements in a whole"
2. "A relationship in which various components exist together without destroying one another"
3. "A relationship characterized by a lack of conflict or by agreement, as of opinion or interest"
Harmony can be a way of life. It can also be musical, one voice or instrument added to another, in order to create an even more beautiful song.
One could say that it was music that brought me and Matt together. I joined the worship team, we sang together, we cracked jokes, and we bonded over a mutual love of nerdy '90's movies and tv shows.
But it all started with the music. And the worship.
From the beginning, Matt was the soloist and I plugged away trying to learn harmony. Learning harmony was something that took intentional practicing for me; it was something I had to work to perfect (and to be honest, I still don't have it perfected).
I remember growing up in church, I would stand next to my mom and listen to her sing. She rarely ever sang the melody of a song; rather, she would effortlessly find the harmony. When I was young, I wondered why she wasn't singing the melody with everyone else. I didn't understand that she was simply making the song more lovely and complex.
When the time came in which I was trying to learn harmony, there were times it was fairly easy and others that it was more difficult. It depended upon the key of the song and the complexity of the melody, and I had to learn how to blend in my voice. But I loved it.
I especially loved singing with Matt (and not just because he was super dreamy). I loved molding my voice to his and instinctively knowing where he was going to go with a song. It is still one of my favorite things to do with my husband - sing harmony over his melody.
Matt and I have been married 6 years (happy anniversary to us!), and as I was reflecting on our relationship this week, I was thinking about how marriage itself is often like harmony.
There is a blending that is needed when you bring two separate lives together. And it's a skill that takes some perfecting.
When Matt is working hard and pursuing his goals, he is leading our family in a way similar to how one can lead a song. One of my main joys as a wife is to support Matt's gifts and goals and leadership. When I see Matt using his gifts, I want to do whatever I can to help and invest in his success. I want to bolster his efforts however I can. If he is the strong melody, I become the harmony, there to back him and help him shine.
I love seeing him shine.
Plus, the beauty of it all is that it goes both ways. When my gifts and goals are the focus and I carry the melody, Matt creates some beautiful harmony. When I was completing my masters degree and had homework and internship and commitments, Matt dedicated himself to doing whatever he could do to help me finish strong. If he had to rearrange his schedule to keep Finn so I could study, he did. If he had to do extra cooking and cleaning around the house so we weren't living in Sty-ville, he did. These days, he joyfully will watch the boys so that I can meet with one of our young adult women. I support his gifts, he supports my gifts.
Two voices, one lovely strain.
When I act in ways that support Matt's gifts, abilities, and goals, I harmoniously strengthen him. And vice versa.
On the other hand, if I act in ways that tear him down or make it difficult for him to succeed, I create a dissonant noise in our relationship and family. Nobody wants to listen to that kind of song, filled with contentious and mismatched notes. Unless you're like, into scream-o stuff.
"A quarrelsome wife is like the dripping of a leaky roof in a rainstorm" Proverbs 27:15
When you live with someone day in and day out, knowing their quirks and weaknesses and struggles almost as well as you know your own, it's not a blissful Hallmark movie kind of existence. It's much too real for that. The choice is to either create harmony through love and support, or exist in dissonance.
In this life that we are blessed to build together, our mutual goal is to let God write the song. With Matt as the head of our family, I trust him to lead us as the melody. I will do whatever I can to support and complement his melody by being a steady harmony in his life.
And, I imagine Finn can click us off on the drums while Jonas strums away on guitar.
Matt is my best friend. He still gives me whirligigs because he's so stinking handsome. He is committed to our family and loves to let us know it through his actions. I'm so, so, so delighted to be his harmony. He's still one of my favorite gifts from God. Ever.
Love is a privilege and not a right. It takes work and action and intentionality.
But it's beautiful. It's oh, so beautiful and oh, so worth it.
Learn the harmony and pour forth the love.
"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal" 1 Corinthians 13:1
1. "An orderly or pleasing combination of elements in a whole"
2. "A relationship in which various components exist together without destroying one another"
3. "A relationship characterized by a lack of conflict or by agreement, as of opinion or interest"
Harmony can be a way of life. It can also be musical, one voice or instrument added to another, in order to create an even more beautiful song.
One could say that it was music that brought me and Matt together. I joined the worship team, we sang together, we cracked jokes, and we bonded over a mutual love of nerdy '90's movies and tv shows.
But it all started with the music. And the worship.
From the beginning, Matt was the soloist and I plugged away trying to learn harmony. Learning harmony was something that took intentional practicing for me; it was something I had to work to perfect (and to be honest, I still don't have it perfected).
I remember growing up in church, I would stand next to my mom and listen to her sing. She rarely ever sang the melody of a song; rather, she would effortlessly find the harmony. When I was young, I wondered why she wasn't singing the melody with everyone else. I didn't understand that she was simply making the song more lovely and complex.
When the time came in which I was trying to learn harmony, there were times it was fairly easy and others that it was more difficult. It depended upon the key of the song and the complexity of the melody, and I had to learn how to blend in my voice. But I loved it.
I especially loved singing with Matt (and not just because he was super dreamy). I loved molding my voice to his and instinctively knowing where he was going to go with a song. It is still one of my favorite things to do with my husband - sing harmony over his melody.
Matt and I have been married 6 years (happy anniversary to us!), and as I was reflecting on our relationship this week, I was thinking about how marriage itself is often like harmony.
There is a blending that is needed when you bring two separate lives together. And it's a skill that takes some perfecting.
When Matt is working hard and pursuing his goals, he is leading our family in a way similar to how one can lead a song. One of my main joys as a wife is to support Matt's gifts and goals and leadership. When I see Matt using his gifts, I want to do whatever I can to help and invest in his success. I want to bolster his efforts however I can. If he is the strong melody, I become the harmony, there to back him and help him shine.
I love seeing him shine.
Plus, the beauty of it all is that it goes both ways. When my gifts and goals are the focus and I carry the melody, Matt creates some beautiful harmony. When I was completing my masters degree and had homework and internship and commitments, Matt dedicated himself to doing whatever he could do to help me finish strong. If he had to rearrange his schedule to keep Finn so I could study, he did. If he had to do extra cooking and cleaning around the house so we weren't living in Sty-ville, he did. These days, he joyfully will watch the boys so that I can meet with one of our young adult women. I support his gifts, he supports my gifts.
Two voices, one lovely strain.
When I act in ways that support Matt's gifts, abilities, and goals, I harmoniously strengthen him. And vice versa.
On the other hand, if I act in ways that tear him down or make it difficult for him to succeed, I create a dissonant noise in our relationship and family. Nobody wants to listen to that kind of song, filled with contentious and mismatched notes. Unless you're like, into scream-o stuff.
"A quarrelsome wife is like the dripping of a leaky roof in a rainstorm" Proverbs 27:15
When you live with someone day in and day out, knowing their quirks and weaknesses and struggles almost as well as you know your own, it's not a blissful Hallmark movie kind of existence. It's much too real for that. The choice is to either create harmony through love and support, or exist in dissonance.
In this life that we are blessed to build together, our mutual goal is to let God write the song. With Matt as the head of our family, I trust him to lead us as the melody. I will do whatever I can to support and complement his melody by being a steady harmony in his life.
And, I imagine Finn can click us off on the drums while Jonas strums away on guitar.
Matt is my best friend. He still gives me whirligigs because he's so stinking handsome. He is committed to our family and loves to let us know it through his actions. I'm so, so, so delighted to be his harmony. He's still one of my favorite gifts from God. Ever.
Love is a privilege and not a right. It takes work and action and intentionality.
But it's beautiful. It's oh, so beautiful and oh, so worth it.
Learn the harmony and pour forth the love.
"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal" 1 Corinthians 13:1
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