As a wife...

I had pretty much resigned to singleness... That's how these stories always begin.

It's true though. Serbia was calling my name and I rather enjoyed the benefits of full time paychecks and garage apt bills. 

Of course, God had alternate plans and I couldn't be more pleased that he authors this tale. 

Never having been in a romantic relationship before him, it was disconcerting to feel all of the feelings and to feel them with such intensity. 

I had never and have never cared so much about someone else's opinion, respect, adoration, attention, etc. 

I hated it... Still do. 

Compartmentalization and the ability to disconnect... such safety nets and not at all allowed in a healthy marriage. 

So here I am... Without a safety net with all of the feelings. 

Marriage is hard and work and hard work. 

I believe I've said that phrase more than almost any other, but I believe it's paramount in combating the illusions of fairytales and RomComs. It's just hard work, as is anything else of value in life. 

A godly marriage, on the other hand, is all the more arduous. 

The commands and expectations are insurmountable for both parties, men, clearly having the worse end of the deal. 

I read things like 

25 Strength and dignity are her clothing, and she laughs at the time to come. 

26 She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. 

27 She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. 

{Proverbs 31:25-27}

... and already feel defeated and far from redemption, obviously schemes of the evil one breathed into my heart, for we are given unattainable commands and the spirit of God to accomplish the impossible. 

The command to submit and uphold and wear strength and rear in righteousness can seem overwhelming as a wife and one-day-God-willing-and-the-creek-don't-rise-mom one day.  

For now, I've decided to focus on just one goal, in hopes of growing and gaining ground as I add to my focus. 

My resolve is to be a restorative refuge for my husband. 

I am not this. I am entirely incapable of this, yet this is what I feel called to hold as my objective. 

I long desperately to be a safe place, a sounding board, a life-giving presence for him. I want his spirit to stir at the thought of coming home. I want him to rest and rejuvenate. 

I have been quite the opposite in the past and present. I have nagged. I have guilted and shamed. I have asked and demanded. 

I am so grateful to know that that his ultimate refuge and restoration comes from our Heavenly Father. He has never demanded this from me, as I have from him in so many moments of our marriage. 

So... How do I prepare and set out to climb this mountain? 

I must find refuge and restoration in the Father. 

I must allow him to fill my cup. 

I must seek my identity, my value, my everything in the one who eagerly waits to do just that. 

So this is my confession, profession and this is your permission. This is your permission to hold me to this standard. This is the accountability I requested HERE. Dig deep. Ask pointed questions, better yet, ask my husband. He has permission to tell on me as well.
Ultimately, this is a plea for prayer. Even as I write this, Satan is waging war, must be doing something right. 

This is the first of my roles so far... 

My Walk On Role

I’ve never made a conscious, concerted effort to abide by new year’s resolutions.  Honestly, I rarely even try to make any to break. 

Naturally I, with the rest of humanity, evaluate my life at the turn of the new year and hope for improvements, but I’ve never been one to really make a plan and if I did, I definitely would not stick with it. 

I am, however, a believer in forming good habits. When I go grocery shopping, I don’t buy tortilla chips… ok, I try to go to the grocery store and not buy tortilla chips and succeed most of the time.  I do this because I will binge on said tortilla chips and empty a bag in an solitary evening, so as a habit, I don’t buy them.  I don’t make alcohol a part of any sort of routine. I don’t want even the appearance of that as a necessity in my life, so I don’t make a habit of it. I set an alarm to refocus my day at 12:15. Habits. 

I believe learned habits to be of more value than abrupt life changes that seem to shock the system. That's why most diets peak and crash, but healthy habits deliver long lasting benefits. 

I’ve just completed Donald Miller’s Life Plan, as challenged to by my dad at the beginning of the new year.  Skeptical, as usual, I read with a grain of salt in one hand and specs of cynicism in the other prepared to uncover an instantaneous five step "fix all plan". Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to find a thoughtful approach to life evaluation and strategy in view of our lives as a mere walk-on role in the grand epic of our God, the Hero and Author. 

I was guided through past reflections and Ebenezer milestones, both joyous and tragic, but all meaningful.  I rewrote redemption where I had neglected to see it and saw the theme my life has projected over these quick twenty-six years. I then homed in on five specific areas in my life.  My intention is to live life within these five roles; wife, sister, friend, writer, and mission leader. 

I want to take the next few weeks to dissect my revelations concerning each of these roles, which are all so interwoven within themselves. I'm doing this for two reasons. The first reason is to continue building a habit of writing regularly and the second is for accountability.  When we say things out loud or, worse yet, publish them in writing, we are held to our words. That being said... Hold me to my words as I journey through attempting to play my role and play it well. 

the Wonder of a Child

Childhood wonder… we have all had it slip away and we have all longed for its return. As much as I long for lost freedoms of my youth, I am also wistful for the wonder that seems to escape the adolescence of today.  I feel, what I can only assume my own teachers and parents felt watching my generation, that there is a tragic decline in imagination and exploration.  There is a greater fear of failure and a lesser inclination for adventure. 

I see this in my classroom.  It makes my heart ache when I give an assignment, just to be met with deep groanings of anxiety for fear of “not being able”.  

“I can’t” therefore "I won't" 

I'm thankful for small victories when a student is persuaded to attempt despite the potential for failure, but all too often there is no assertion of effort, so that there can be no height from which to fall. 

Is this a product of the screens that we thrust in front of their faces or the absence of guidance in the appropriateness of their uses? 

Is it that the answer to all of life's mysteries are within the touch of their fingertips, making hands on exploration inefficient? 

What of my children? How will I be able to preserve the preciousness of imagination? How will I be able to emphasize the wonder of uninhibited exploration? 

What will be left? 

 

The Nature of Ice

As ice and snow clings to every tree branch, windshield, and block of cement in the world outside, I am reminiscent of those expectant evenings as a school aged child, waiting with bated breath for those few simple words... "Crowley ISD is closed." 

It was like an unexpected gift on an average day.  Mom would make chili, we’d explore outside, and warm up with a nap or a family movie and ask, incessantly, the rest of the day, if it would happen again tomorrow. 

Now, I sit and think of laundry not done, floors to be mopped, plans to be made, errands to run and emails to be returned. I get anxious about my new found immobility outside the walls of my house. 

There's a drive in me to "do". There's a longing in me to "complete".  I have a desire to "engage".  So I sit with one screen on my lap, one in my hand, and another glowing across the room. I simultaneously use each one trying desperately to fill this drive, this longing, this desire.  

Meanwhile, the Father is summoning me. The designer of this drive, longing, and desire has come to fulfill. He sent this frozen immobilization for me to stop.  Be still.  Know. Remember.  There is no fault in stopping.  There is great discipline in stillness. There is freedom in knowing.  There is hope in remembering.  

He seeks to fulfill that desire in me to do something meaningful by engaging with me. 

What is more complete than communing with the Holy One?  

We tried two days and I failed to listen to the politness of his beckoning and so here we are again.  There are 36 hours left to complete a list of things before I step aboard a plane. There are bags to be packed, loose ends to be tied, and my floors are still dirty.  But for now, I will stop. Be still. Know. Remember. For all else is like this ice that covers my world, fleeting and fading with every second.