“The on the Way to Church Fight”

Perfect timing.

It’s Sunday. We’re on our way to church. Excited to go worship Jesus. Happy to be together. The sun is shining. The bees are buzzing. The birds are chirping. There’s a cool breeze flowing in my hair through the open window. Picture perfect. With my best friend.

So let’s have a fight.

That’s usually how it goes, right? You intentionally pick a fight to ruin a spectacular moment? Wrong. Although, I must confess it has been done before by this sassy lass. But that wasn’t the case yesterday. Either Jason was being really kind and giving me content for my first blog post in my “Wicked Wife” series, or God just has a great sense of humor. Or I’m a sinner. Definitely option C and a little of Option B.

It’s that perfect timing that fights always never have. Get that? Always never. Our fight yesterday wasn’t a knock-down-drag-out-blow-up sort of deal, but it was super unpleasant and left us with a lingering crummy feeling as we headed into church. The topic isn’t important, but I will give you the general details.

Jason was trying to figure something out. He needed me to answer a question to help him figure out what he was trying to figure out. The question he asked me {in my perfect opinion} was not actually the question he needed to ask to get the information he needed {cause I knew what information he needed because I am a mind reader}. So I told him I didn’t know. Then I told him what he really needed to know was XYZ so that he could get the answer that he was most certainly looking for. At which point he got frustrated with me for not just answering his question so he could figure it out his way. At which point I got frustrated with him for not just taking my word for it and doing it the better way I suggested. At which point he got frustrated with me for not hearing why he was frustrated with me. At which point I got even more frustrated with him for not letting me help him in the error of his ways. At which point we pull into the church parking lot. Perfect.

It gets better.

I get out of the car because we are just about on time and I don’t want to be late. He stays in the car {saying a quick prayer for divine intervention with his wicked wife}, and I assume he’s just sitting there to make me stand outside like a fool. So, logically, I open the door and let him know {in a sugary sweet tone} that we’re going to be late {because clearly he doesn’t have any idea what time it is} and realize he’s actually praying {why didn’t I think of that}? So my main squeeze gets out of the car and we start walking into church. At this point I’ve got a real pride balloon hanging over my head because I know that I’m right and am super excited to go into church this morning because I know Mark is preaching on reconciliation and I’m looking forward to seeing my husband experience some Holy Spirit conviction. And just as I’m thinking that,

I trip on the stairs and almost break my face.

So then, logically, I start to cry. I’m embarrassed. Frustrated. And this balloon is hanging pretty heavy over my head. Jason reaches out to grab my arm and prevent me from totally wiping out. I snap my arm out of his hand. He says, “Please, let’s go back to the car and talk this out before we go into church.” “No,” I say. Because we have to be on time. Crying even more. But I wipe those dumb tears and slap the plastic smile on my face, go inside and sit down. Mumble through some worship. Crack out the notebook to take some notes. Listen to the sermon. And, about 40 minutes in {dang, I’m prideful}, God softens my heart and I realize I’m a twit, and I reach over and tuck my arm in his arm. We have a secret thing that we do to say I love you, so I do it while my arm is tucked in his. He does it back. We sit and listen to the rest of the reconciliation sermon {oh the irony, ha!} and then worship begins. Our pastor challenges us to reconcile with anyone in the room that we need to reconcile with before taking communion, so we just sit there and talk.

And I hear my husband’s heart. He says that sometimes he feels like I always think I’m right. That I always have the best answer. That I don’t think he is capable of doing certain things on his own. He says it makes him feel like he has to prove himself to me. Like I don’t believe in him. Like he’s not competent.

I cry.

I tell him that sometimes I’m scared that in submitting to him {Eph 5:22-24; Col 3:18}, I’ll no longer have a say. That he’ll always be right and that I won’t matter or my opinions won’t matter. This is a lie. This isn’t a picture of the biblical submission Paul writes about. What it is is my own view, my own spin, my own distortion of the beautiful and loving submission of a wife. The hierarchy of the family as God designed it with the wife as an equal partner with a different role. He leads, I help. And we are equal. I also tell him that I’m scared because it’s hard. Because I want to lead. My flesh SCREAMS for control. My flesh wants to make the decisions my way {which is always the best way}. And I’m sitting there telling him this and I’m telling him that I’m scared to submit, and I’m telling him I know I can’t submit, and I’m telling him how wicked I know I am and…wait for it…I’m pointed to the cross.

And I cry some more.

Because I’m so thankful that I have a Savior {Galatians 4:4-5}. I’m so thankful that He promises to put my pride and selfishness and controlling nature to death {Colossians 3:5a}. That He promises to enable me to walk in newness of life {Romans 6:4-14}. To hear what my husband says, to let him lead and be a man, to trust him, and to ultimately trust and submit to God {James 4:7}. My submission issues with my husband are ultimately because I have submission issues with Christ. If I submit to Christ, then I will be able to submit to Jason. Regardless of Jason’s ability to lead. Because he’s a sinner too {Romans 3:10-12}. And God’s working on him too {Philippians 1:6}. And he doesn’t do everything perfectly. But I trust Jesus in Jason. And I ask for grace to be able to obey God in Scripture {Luke 11:28}. And I’m thankful for it because it illuminates the darkness of my heart {Jer 17:9}. And I repent {Acts 3:19}.

And he says, “Can I pray for us?”

And he prays for us. Everyone else is worshipping. Taking communion. Doing their thing with Jesus. And we’re doing our thing with Jesus. Because of Jesus, we’re reconciling. Because of Jesus, we’re holding hands. Because of Jesus, our marriage is growing and getting better. Not falling apart and growing apart. We’ve been there too because we didn’t have Jesus. But this time this was a little fight. A dumb fight. And it seems like they come fewer and further in between. And it seems like we are repenting better and more quickly, by God’s grace. But, you know what? It was a helpful fight. Because once again, it revealed sin that pointed us to Jesus. And once again, by grace through faith in Jesus we are able to repent and be reconciled to God and to each other. It’s a daily battle. And so…

We walk out of church reconciled.

And I don’t even trip on the way to the car.

So there you have it. The perfect timing of “The on the Way to Church Fight.” Perfect timing because of the sermon topic {listen here if you want}. Perfect timing because of this blog series {just another humble reminder that just because He’s taught us and we’ve grown, we haven’t arrived}. Perfect timing because God’s timing is always perfect.

So here we go. Looking forward to sharing more crazy stories of God’s grace in our marriage and all of the things that I wish this couple would have known before we, you know, tied the knot, cut the cake, took the leap, got hitched, and dropped anchor. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post when I share with you what I wish I would have known about Jesus before getting married.

**This is the second post in the “Wicked Wife” series.**

On Wivery

That’s right. In this new “Wicked Wife” series, I’ma shout it from the mountaintops. “I’m a wicked wife.” Today I can freely tell you that my bent is toward being a super wicked wife {we’ll talk about why I can freely tell you that in a few days}.

Six years ago when we first got married I sang a very different tune. The melody was lovely and the chorus went something like this:

“Jason is so lucky, so lucky, sooo lucky!!!
I’m a wonderful wife. Wondeful wife.
Lucky Jason, Lucky Jason!”

About 2 years in, it turned to more of a horror soundtrack {we’re talking full on “riiiih riiiih”…sound it out, people}. I’m selfish. I’m impatient. I’m controlling. I’m proud. I’m rude. I’m arrogant. I’m self-seeking. I’m easily angered. I keep a record of wrongs. I’m bitter. I’m resentful. My house doesn’t look like what I thought it would. Laundry never gets done. Meals are sporadic and they suck. I don’t have motivation. I’m totally and completely broken. However, I was 100% blind to all of that. I just knew I was unhappy and it was Jason’s fault. After all, he had married a wonderful wife. So any problems must be coming from the “horrible husband.” The honeymoon was over. We were shipwrecked. This wasn’t on the itinerary of wedded bliss forever and ever. Now what?

In this series, I’m going to share with you what I wish I would have known about Jesus, sin, grace and repentance. I’m also going to share some funny and embarrassing stories of me falling flat on my face in “wonderful wifedom” and how what I wrongly believed about Jesus, sin, and myself got me in major trouble. We’ll talk about hope for our husbands. And finally, I’ll share with you what’s different now and why understanding who Jesus is has saved our marriage as we continue to deal with sin, repentance, and grace on a daily basis. It’s gonna be a wild ride. Hope you’ll join me!

Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post, “The on the Way to Church Fight,” a real knee-slapper.

**This is the first post in my “Wicked Wife” series.”

The Girl Who Cried Fire

My husband is the world’s best bargain hunter. He may or may not even subscribe to a website called “Thrifty Northwest Mom.” At least he’s got the “Thrifty” and “Northwest” parts covered.

For about a month now, he’s been talking about getting a toaster. I had chucked ours because it was old and dirty {and didn’t match other appliances on my counter}. The man has been missing his toast, so he finally went all in and bought a beautiful stainless steal Hamilton Beach toaster.

From Goodwill.

For $4.99.

Used.

Something about him turning it upside down off our back deck and dumping out the burnt crumbs from the previous user caused something in my mind to snap crackle pop. Payback was inevitable. So I devised a little plan. A plan to make him some new toast in that new toaster of his.

While he was watching the Olympics, I slipped into the kitchen under the guise of getting some ice cream. I slipped two nasty looking pieces of bread out of the fridge and into the new toaster. Cranked that baby up to power level 5 and let ‘er rip. I could hardly contain my excitement as I anticipated some blackity black toasty toast.

Three minutes later it popped up. Not burnt. Much to my chagrin. So, I pushed the lever down and sent those babies back in for another round. It was somewhere during round 2 that the house began to smell somewhat like burnt toast, and Jason began laughing from the living room. He quickly dismissed that my a la mode ice cream flavor of the eve was burnt toast, and stood up to come check on me.

At which point I grabbed a dish towel, began yelling, “FIRE! FIRE!” and pretending to put out flames from the new toaster. “Ohhh, no! Oh no, babe. Look at the bread {pulling out the now blackened toast}. So sad! And this was on the lowest level! Oh so sad. Your toaster doesn’t work. And it caught on fire. Super dangerous!”

At this point he knows I’m full of it. And I know he knows I’m full of it. But the two of us can’t stop laughing.

In all sincerity, I super appreciate that my husband is thrifty. And Northwest. We’ve gotten some great stuff at the Goodwill {including some Rough Rider skin tight jeans for my little cowboy}. And I am not above reusing other people’s stuff. It was just a prank too good to pass up.

One of my favorite sounds in the whole wide world is the sound of my man laughing. And I’ll do pretty much anything to make it happen.

On Why I Love Jesus and Not Edward Cullen

10 Reasons I Love Jesus Over Edward (and a few afterthoughts)

* He’s real
* No one wrote His lines for Him
* His loving gaze toward me was not in a script or directed by a director
* He didn’t wear makeup, need a costume designer or a hair stylist
* He conquered death for me without hurting me
* He is all reality and no fantasy
* He redeems my reality instead of causing me to despair in it
* He’s not just set on me, but the entire human race
* He’s all-together good
* He’s the author of eternal love and laid down his life to prove it

Heavy heart for the women across the world who are being destroyed by this movie-the women who can’t separate reality from fantasy and as a result LUST after Edward, Jacob, this fake world behind cameras and lights and makeup and costumes. This world that is REAL to them and that leaves them in total despair about their own worlds (or realities). I pray for them, young and old, and for the poor men in their lives that will now be held to an unfair, unrealistic standard. This movie is going to silently, secretly, and slowly destroy marriages, both present and future, with unrealistic expectations and ideals.

So I pray for the masses to have their eyes opened and realize that ALL that touches their hearts and peaks their interest about these movies can be found in Jesus.

I cried all the way home last night, LORD, as I realized again what I have in you. Every longing, every desire, every part of me that wants to be loved perfectly, protected, fought for (and worth fighting for) in a safe place—where I can be unguarded and where I never have to worry that I’ll be hurt, disappointed, let down, betrayed, cheated on, or abandoned—I already have that (and so much more) fully and completely in you.

Last night as I drove home, I just wanted YOU. I longed for you. I was desperate to be with you, in your arms. You are my safe place. You are my identity. You are my everything. No lie. No fantasy. No person. No story. No plot beats you. You trump it all. And I can’t believe you chose me. You loved me while I was still dead and super unattractive in my own sin. You breathed the breath of eternal life into my soul and now I’m yours.

I’m your bride. In fresh, clean white.

P.S. I also have my very private list on why I love Jason and not Edward Cullen. 🙂

Simply Sweet

In sickness and in health.

Yesterday while eating lunch in our back room with Tami and Renee we saw three people walking out of the store adjacent to ours. Two were elderly, perhaps in their 80’s and the other was a woman in her 40’s. We stopped talking and noticed them because the older man and the younger woman had the elderly lady propped up in between them and were helping to hold her up. She was shuffling her feet along very slowly and it was evident that they were essentially holding up most of her body weight.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, something happened with the woman and she started to go down onto the pavement. The older man and younger woman stopped and turned trying to use all of their strength to brace her and hold her up in an effort to prevent her from falling onto the ground. We all jumped up and ran outside to offer our assistance, but by the time we had gotten out there the two had pretty much gotten a handle on her body weight and had prevented her from falling.

We walked with them as they got her to the car and started asking questions to make sure that everyone was okay. It turned out that the man was her husband, and her caretaker. She had alzheimer’s. The man shared that sometimes she forgets to use her legs and that usually she has a walker. He talked about how he helps her from the bed to the bathroom at home, and all around the house. He had walked her to the store with the hope of giving her some exercise, but her legs had given up.

He then focused all of his attention, energy, and 80 year old strength on bending down and gently, carefully, and slowly lowering his wife into the passenger seat, going so far as to totally shield her head with his arm to prevent her from knocking her head on the roof as she sat down. He buckled her up, turned to us and thanked us, and then got in the car and drove away with the younger woman (probably the daughter—she had tears in her eyes the whole time) and his wife.

And not once, not for one second, was there even an ounce of frustration, regret, or despair in his voice. He wasn’t rude. He wasn’t embarrassed. He wasn’t impatient. He didn’t complain about the unfairness of life. He literally acted normal, went about his duty as a faithful husband, and then left on his way with not even a frown.

It was beautiful.

And we went back inside and said to each other: “THAT is what all couples need to see before they decide to get married. THAT is what we all need to understand that marriage should look like. THAT is love. THAT is commitment. THAT is truly the example of selflessness.”

Here’s Philippians 2:3:

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.

And I really like it in the Amplified Bible:

Do nothing from factional motives [through contentiousness, strife, selfishness, or for unworthy ends] or prompted by conceit and empty arrogance. Instead, in the true spirit of humility (lowliness of mind) let each regard the others as better than and superior to himself [thinking more highly of one another than you do of yourselves].

Different is fun!

One of the amazing things about being married is the fact that Kate and I both have very different ways of looking at certain things. For instance, Kate loves mushrooms, and I hate mushrooms. (For the record, Kate is wrong.) On certain things, our difference of opinion doesn’t really matter. However, in some areas these different perspectives are just the thing that allow us to make the best decisions for our marriage. I can think of multiple times in the past where Kate has presented an idea or a thought, and I immediately rejected it based on the fact that it didn’t line up with my way of thinking. However, after chewing on it for a little while, and after listening to more of what she had to say, I realized that her plan was much better than mine. I can think of one specific thing in the past that always highlights this idea for me…Kate and I had just gotten our tax return, and I was all set to throw it into our savings account or our investments when Kate threw me a curveball… 

Let’s go on a cruise!

Now, I immediately recognized how ridiculous this plan was. We had just gotten a nice chunk of money, and it was destined for our bank accounts. Seriously, a cruise? How frivolous is that? (I obviously still had a lot to teach Kate about handling money.)

But wait, what was that? A seed of doubt that was slowly starting to take root in my mind?

 

A cruise would be fun.

 

What a great way for us to get away and spend some time together.

 

Now wait a minute. This is irresponsible. I need to make the wisest decision for us, and having fun with our money is not wise.

 

So back and forth I went in my mind. Eventually, I came to agree with Kate that this was something that we should do. And guess what? One of the best trips of our lives. We absolutely LOVED it. And we can’t wait to go on another one.

But it wouldn’t have happened without Kate’s brilliant idea.

Fast forward to the present. Kate comes home the other day with this little nugget…”Let’s stop investing and put all that money towards paying down debt.” (Obviously, I’m going to have to explain to her about interest rates and compounding.)

But wait. It’s happening again. That little seed of doubt that tells me she might be on to something. Again, my original thought was that it wouldn’t be the “smartest” decision to pay our debt and not invest. But as we started to talk, I started to realize that maybe the “smartest” decision isn’t always the “best” decision. I’m learning that it’s not always about pros and cons and black and white and facts and figures. Sometimes there are other factors that are more important than interest rates and compounding…things like not having a ton of debt hanging over our head and Kate being able to stay at home with our kids. How much is that worth?

In the end, we decided on a new plan for our budget and for paying our debt, and I am INCREDIBLY excited about it.

It’s fun being married.

Being a Better Wife

I’m feeling convicted lately that there really are some ways that I can prayerfully work on being a better wife. I love Jason, and we’ve been married for four years and there is no one else in the world that I want to be with, that I am as close with, and that I respect as fully and completely as my husband. He loves Jesus, he’s hilarious, he is incredibly intelligent and he’s patient, forgiving and kind. He’s supported me and stood by my side. He’s super hot, in great shape, takes good care of his body, our house, our dogs, and ME! He provides for us every day by going to work, working hard, and has earned the respect of his colleagues. No one is perfect, and Jason is not an exception, but living with him gives me a perspective that no one else has. That’s the beauty of marriage.

And as I look at him, I also want to look at myself. I think that I always just assumed that being a “perfect wife” would be easy. I’d love and serve my husband, keep a clean house, make delicious meals, make him laugh, enjoy life together, and walk away into the sunset. Four years later, I see that I’ve not lived up to that standard, but also that that standard is not possible. Nor is it what Jason expects of me. I know that he loves me and accepts me just as I am. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t strive for more as his wife.

There are three major areas where I want to focus (at least to start).

1. Myself.

I’m working on a few things personally. I’m working on being the godly woman I covenanted to be to Jason when I married him. By God’s grace I’ve been in the Word every day. I’m praying and I’m seeking God. I see the immediate tangible results of that in my marriage-mainly that I feel convicted when I do something that hurts/disappoints/discourages Jason. I’m working on being quick to shut my mouth and even quicker to apologize. I’m learning what it looks like to swallow pride and submit out of love.

That’s all well and good. But here’s the major issue I need to work on: I need to start exercising again. When I am not working out and not taking care of myself, it has a profound impact on how I’m feeling. How I’m feeling has a profound impact on my self-image which reflects negatively into my marriage. I do NOT feel good about my weight right now, nor do I feel good about my lifestyle. I’ve been lazy and I’ve been eating out of convenience (and also wasting our money). I need a plan that I can succeed at and stick to every day.

So here’s my action plan:
Starting tomorrow, Sunday, September 5 I’m going to start a routine. There are three things that HAVE to happen.

• I HAVE to get myself in bed by 10pm.
• I HAVE to get up and work out in the MORNING, or it won’t get done.
• I HAVE to cut sugar out of my diet (and crap in general).

My plan is to do an hour of exercise. To start, I will do Jillian’s 30 Day Shred and then 25-35 minutes on the elliptical. I will do this 5 days a week. My guaranteed days will be Saturday and Sunday. Then, I can choose 3 days during the week and have 2 days off. For now I will try working out Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday and take time off on Monday and Friday (but still eat healthy). My goal is to lose 25 pounds by Christmas. I will “weigh in” each Sunday on this blog and post! Yikes. I will also use that post as an opportunity to post my work out schedule from the previous week so I am held accountable. When I am working out, I am a different person. It positively influences how I feel all day long and literally makes me feel like I’m living in a different universe. I know the value of it, and I love doing it, so it’s all a bunch of bullcrap that I just haven’t been doing it.

2. The House

Everything feels better when our house is clean and not cluttered, and when we’re taking time to make fun, healthy, inexpensive meals. So there are two plans I have for this area of my life and marriage.

• Planned weekly meals from epicurious.com. There is a portion of the site that allows you to access planned weekly meals. They have the meals all set up for you including recipes, directions, and a complete shopping list. The meals are supposed to be quick and fairly inexpensive. When I’m cooking for Jason and get to see the look of satisfaction on his face after a meal, it is one of the greatest feelings as a wife. Plus, I love cooking.
• Consistently cleaning the house every week. I think setting Saturday morning/afternoon for this would be a good starting point for us. This would mean really trying to not schedule early Saturday morning appointments or plans and committing this time to housework. During the nicer months, this can be a time for Jason to do yard work. Inside, a full top to bottom clean and laundry can be done. Additionally, I think that during the week it is going to be really important to do spot cleans when we see a mess or stain and making sure that before we go to bed (AT 1o PM) clutter is picked up. This will be a team effort.

3. Sports

So Jason is a tried and true, legit, full-time die hard Seattle sports time. He’s not a bandwagon fan. He bleeds the color of the team he’s rooting for, and his heart breaks when they lose. He gets chills and gets emotional when they win, and it’s a huge part of his life. I’ve half-heartedly joined him there for the last 5 years, but I want to do more than meet him halfway. This is an area where I think we can really have fun, and where I can bless him with my company and my friendship as we watch and go to games. He says that I’m good about saying that I’ll do it, but I’ll always get up and leave or fall asleep halfway through a game. He’s fine with that, and there’s no pressure from his end for me to change that, but I think it would be something that would bless him. And…added bonus…I’d get to be with him. So it’s another thing on my list that I’m going to be working on. Plus, how fortunate are we to be within 10 minutes of the Mariner’s AAA minor league team and 45 minutes of Seattle’s pro baseball, football, and soccer teams?

This is something I’m really excited about. And it plays out in two phases. Not only will I be more faithful to watch and share in the sports that he loves to watch and support, but I also will be more faithful to support and watch his softball games, or any other athletic competition he wants to do. I went to ONE game this entire last season. He played on two teams twice a week and had several tournaments. I don’t know what my problem was, but that is going to change this season. This season I will be there to cheer for him. He’s serious about softball and he’s really good at it. He loves it. Time I jump fully on board.

I love you, Hamilton. I’m working on loving you even better. I hope I never stop learning how or improving on being your wife.

On Discouragement

One of the things in my life that really encourages me is writing. I could take you to a box in my garage that is filled with at least a dozen journals. Right now I have two journals that I’m using for study, sermons, notes, and prayer. The bottom line is: I love to write.

When I first starting blogging, I realized that it was therapeutic in a very special way for me. Writing on here (even if I knew that only a few people would be reading it) really encouraged me. It was a means to get my thoughts and feelings out and express myself through the written word.

Lately, I’ve struggled with getting on here and wanting to write. I’m not even sure why. I think it is a combination of several discouraging factors. Today I’m going to address them.

The first discouraging factor has been the pregnancy issue. Let me back up for a second and remind you of the history there. Satan will have me believe the following:

1. There is something wrong with me.
2. There is something wrong with Jason.
3. God must not think we will be good parents.
4.  I don’t deserve to have children.
5. I will never have children.

This weekend at the Love and War conference with John and Stasi Eldredge, I learned something new. John was talking about agreements that we’ve made with the enemy. Sometimes we make these agreements, not even realizing that we’re doing so with Satan. And once the agreement has been made in our minds, we filter life through that thought or belief. For example, someone might say, “I married the wrong person.” As a result, everything that that spouse does is now filtered through the belief that there was a mistake in choosing that particular spouse. And it’s a lie. But once you make that agreement, it becomes truth.

For me, the agreement with the enemy with regards to children is that God is punishing me for the awful things I’ve done and that I do not deserve to be a mother. WHHHHHAT is THATTTT? I mean, honestly. It sounds asinine even writing it down. But in my mind every time I have a normal cycle, every time I get a negative test result, and every time I look back on our history, I bargain with the devil (thinking it is truth).

“You’re not worthy of a child.”
“God is punishing you.”
“You don’t deserve happiness here.”
“Just get used to it.”
“You fool! You got your hopes up again. God is laughing at you.”

I mean, really? One of my friends says, “Satan always overplays his hand.” By that, she means that the devil always pushes things a LITTLE too far until you realize just how ridiculous the lies are that you have been believing all along! This is one of those times.

Even though John Eldredge was talking about agreements we make with the devil about our marriage, I see agreements I’ve made with him about getting pregnant. So this is something I’ve prayed about and am letting go of. I am calling the lies out for the untruths that they are and am claiming truth back into my life.

In the process, I’ve been realizing that getting pregnant has been an idol in my life. I can tell that it has because when I find out that I’m not, I get angry with God. My desire to get pregnant has been greater than my desire to be obedient, long-suffering and patient with God. Not only that, but my unhappiness and frustration demonstrate the fact that I am not fully satisfied in Christ alone. For me to get as emotionally upset as I have been each time I’m not pregnant only proves that I am looking to something other than Jesus for my contentment. As Paul says:

“…for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” -Philippians 4:10b-13

If I am looking for my contentment in becoming pregnant, having a family, motherhood, or anything other than my relationship with Jesus, I am going to be let down. Not only that, but it becomes something I worship. It consumes my time, my thoughts, my finances, and my identity. I do not want to worship motherhood. I do not want to worship conception or pregnancy. I do not want to worship my child. And believe you, me…if I love Charlie this much? I could be in danger. 🙂

As I looked up “idolatry” in “Synonyms of the Old Testament” I found this information:

“There is a word in the O.T…it is supposed to mean that which causes labour, either in the making of the idol or in the worshipping of it. Scripture always conveys to us the idea that true worship is not wearisome to the child of God, whereas the worship of idols is hard labour without profit.”

Ouch. Right? That’s a hard one.

Isaiah 40:18-19 says:

“To whom will you liken God, or what likeness compare with him? An idol! A craftsman casts it, and a goldsmith overlays it with gold and casts for it silver chains.”

Lord, I want to be content no matter what my circumstances. I want to be satisfied in you and I want my worship to be of you alone. Please give me more of you so that I do not make agreements with the devil about the things that I think I need or the things that I think I believe. I acknowledge that I deserve nothing, but through your graciousness you give me all that is needed.

Not only do I see Paul ending the portion on contentment with the understanding that “God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus, (4:19)” but I also find comfort in II Corinthians 9:8.

“God is able to make ALL grace abound to you, so that having ALL sufficiency in ALL things at ALL times you may abound in EVERY good work.”

I’m sorry, Satan. What was it that you said? I’ve already forgotten.

So that was the first thing that was discouraging me from writing. I felt silly for starting this blog and saying all that I had said about wanting to get pregnant. But that lie is flushed.

The second reason I was feeling discouraged was because my quiet time had become an idol. I had been so consumed with writing on here, writing in my multiple journals, reading my Bible, reading two books, and being a part of three studies that I was worn down. I was more focused on the time I was spending than who I was spending the time with. So I went through some highs and lows. I would go one day and spend about five hours in the Word, studying, journaling, and praying. Then the next day I would think about spending those five hours again, it would exhaust me, and I would give up before I started. So I stopped writing in here because I felt like I didn’t really have much to share.

All that being said, I am such a work in progress and I am so thankful and in love with Jesus for His unyielding patience with me. So I will continue to write on here, I will continue to share the faith journey my family is on, I will continue to share fun silly pictures and other things, and I will continue pressing on.

“Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” -Philippians 3:12-14

xOxO,
Kate

Trees, Doors and Mountains

One of my favorite parts about being married is harassing each other in our sleep. Now I know that sounds maniacal, but it’s true. Jason says some of the funniest crap in his sleep. And he’s so out of it that I can sometimes turn it into a conversation that lasts a few minutes. Usually if that’s the case, he’ll wake up and be very frustrated and confused. That half-awake, half-asleep, hair tousled look is when my love grows exponentially for him. It’s a special moment for married couples that spend every night together.

So Jason has started trying to do this to me in the mornings while I’m still sleeping. He’s on his way out the door for work, and will come and say goodbye. I am such a light sleeper that the moment he wakes me up to say goodbye, I’m up. But most recently I’ve implored some of my fantabulous acting skills in an attempt to give him a laugh. So for the last month or so, there have been a few times when he’s woken me up and I’ve begun rambling on about Benjamin Franklin or bumblebees or other random absurd topics. The best part is his giggle as he plays along and thinks he’s got me going.

This morning he started this type of conversation with me. I don’t quite remember my end of things, but here was his line: “You must escape the trees. Ride on backs of doors and head for the mountains.”

So I just called him at work. Here’s our conversation:

Me: Babe, we really need to start praying before I go to sleep.
Jason: Okay.
Me: I’ve just been having these really bad dreams.
Jason: Did you have one again last night?
Me: Yes, it was awful. There were these huge trees with teeth and claws that were coming after me. And as hard as I tried to escape, I couldn’t get away. I tried to swing on the doors, but they were broken and I couldn’t get away. I woke up so scared.
Jason: Silence
Me: So we need to start praying.
Jason: I think I may be somewhat responsible for that one (with contriteness in his voice).
Me: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

I love my Hamilton. 🙂

P.S. I told him about the site, so he’s sure to read this and have a comment.

I Couldn’t Tell, My Petunia

So I’ve been feeling crummy all day. Sick to my stomach, lower back pain, tooth pain, cramps…you name it. I’m sure it’s just normal PMS, but I’ve just been feeling lousy. I’ve been on the couch all day. While I did get in my quiet time, my Masters’ work and my New York Times Wednesday Crossword, I’ve not done much else. So I didn’t shower. And I’m not looking my best.

One of the coolest things about having this time at home is that our house is always clean. Jason comes home and things are put away, laundry is done, dishes, etc. I love being able to do that for him and for us. It just makes everything else seem to fall into place better. It makes me feel like a better house wife.

So anyway, I was joking around with Jason saying how I’m working on being a better housewife. I said, “I’ve been keeping the house clean, been working on being a better wife. I love having you come home to a clean house and a beautiful wife that has been taking care of herself all day…showered…and is looking lovely.” He smiled back and said, “You are beautiful.” I stated the obvious and said, “Well, I didn’t really shower today.”

To which he replied with a smile, “I couldn’t tell my petunia.”

A keeper.

My Baby’s Bran Muffins

Bran Muffins as a litmus test for love? It’s possible. What isn’t with marriage? One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned is that grace and goodness can be shown to your spouse in the kitchen.

Think about it. Where else do you intentionally make crazy messes, struggle to get exact measurements, fight to multi-task, break, spill and burn things, realize you’re missing ingredients, and completely wear yourself out? And then have a mess spanning wall to wall to clean up afterwords?

Or is that just in our kitchen?

So for the last several days Jason has been talking about desperately craving homemade bran muffins. One of the things that I love about my husband is that he is completely self-sufficient. Not only does he iron all of his own clothes, but he can do every household chore like a champ. I’m not saying that he loves them all, but he knows how to do them and he will…without complaining. I know. I’m blessed. Additionally, he’s a great cook and a talented baker.

So today he came home from work ready to make long awaited bran muffins. I wasn’t feeling well again (nauseated ALL day from messing up my medication), so I was asleep on the couch.

All of a sudden I heard him exclaim,

“Whoopsie daisy!”

with frustration and discouragement (okay that’s not what he said, but I rated this blog G). Jason gets very easily frustrated with himself. I think he demands perfection and accepts nothing less.

One of the things that I have learned as a wife is that it is not my role to swoop into a situation like that and tell my husband what he could have or should have been doing (not that I know anyway). So I gave him some space.

A few minutes later another loud

“Whoopsie daisy!”

Followed by a few

“Gosh, golly, darn-it’s.”

I decided it was time to get up. For the next several minutes, my goal was to respect my husband and work with him to solve the problems he was having. Usually I am controlling and bossy. This time I tried something different. I built him up. I complimented what he was doing. I told him that he was a good cook and the mistakes that had been made were not a big deal. The few dollars of food and ingredients that were wasted were not a big deal at all…especially because it was the first time he was trying the recipe.

What happened next was a blessing to both of us. I watched his countenance soften and his shoulders broaden. His eyebrows lifted and his frustration with himself started to release. We worked together to finish the recipe, and I didn’t say one negative thing. I didn’t criticize his temper-tantrum (who wants to be scolded in that moment anyway), I didn’t advise, take over, or direct. It was HIS project and I let him finish it. But I just stood by his side as his partner. His partner that believed in him.

The end result?

Delicious bran muffins baked by my baby. Made all the more delicious by the lessons learned.

The kitchen? A laboratory for love-learning! 🙂

Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything. Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.

-Ephesians 5:21-28

Check out the delicious recipe here!