It was just there one day, that scar.  It must have been there for years, and somehow I had missed it.  How could I have missed something like that? It wasn’t even small.   I mean for 21 years of story after story….21 years of bodies intertwined and tangled up in dark, in light…in sickness and in health.. In ugliness and beauty…..in time-stopped wonder and racing the minutes…. this scar had been exposed to my eyes again and again and somehow I had missed it.  It wasn’t even in a strange place or a hidden spot.  Did I mistake it for a crease?   After all, it was right there where the knee bends and skin folds. I studied it for awhile in silence.  Silence except for the songs in the woods.  My best friend and I had decided to spend a cherished afternoon together in our favorite place.  We had to fight for that afternoon.  The morning had started off normal and right as we had attended worship services together.  My favorite psalm was preached.  And afterward, we had the afternoon to ourselves.  The rain bird and the musician (our two adult children still at home) were both gone! The afternoon was ours.  Can you believe we began to get irritated with one another over where to eat lunch? We almost lost the fight, but I was determined to enjoy the gift of my husband and his company on a nothing -Sunday afternoon.  Sunday’s are for nothing…I say.  I mean except worship and rest.  The rest is just that “nothing.”  Glorious, rest-filled nothing.  Enjoying to its fullest a sabbath intended to restore one and refresh a tired mind and body in preparation for a week’s work. And I couldn’t wait to do nothing with this cherished friend of mine. His heart knitted to mine.  A love betrothed and sin-stained from the start, somehow redeemed and set in motion by the God who hangs stars and commands the morning.  A covenant God was keeping these last 21 years for us.  I don’t think either one of us take credit.  We have simply been bathed in grace, and scrubbed in mercy.  And that’s where I saw it, right in the middle of nothing. Every scar tells a story….I wanted to hear it.  Us writers, well we love stories.  We crave meaningful conversations that dig a little deeper into a soul.  Stories that prick and spill a little blood…its worth the stain, if I can’t get it off or out of my heart.  The stories that give us insight into how you ever got here…ya know this place where you love what you love, crave what you crave, hate what you hate, do what you do…say what you say- Why you put words to carefully reflected on thoughts or have after-thoughts to words recklessly spoken… Words that budged in front of the quiet Voice without sound and trampled down a soul.  If you can’t share with me the deep hidden “who,” instead of the surface “what” I think I see, well, I’m probably not interested. So I ask, and then I write.

“Is that a scar?” I said. A little embarrassed to have finally noticed after 21 years.  He traced my brown-eyed line of sight to his knee.  “Yeah.”  “How did it happen?” “I wiped out on the scooter when I was a teenager. It could have been the time I was severely drunk.” He said with a chuckle.  I know a lot about my husband’s heart and I ache to know more.  We sat again in silence. Sweet soul -swaddling silence. And the silence made words float in and out of my head. Words like “scar” and the words I previously wrote about, “the heart of her husband…” And somehow they go together.  If I had missed this visible scar all of these years, surely I had missed the “invisible” scars  of my husband’s heart. It’s possible I was responsible for some of those scars, more than possible, I can guarantee you I’m guilty.   And could it just be that since I was called to help my husband in a way that his heart trusts in me, that I had more work to do? I’m not talking about trying to dig into your husband’s mind and heart and annoy him to death.  I am talking about digging into the word of God in order that you might unearth the wisdom into what God has called you to when it comes to your husband’s heart.

Last we met, we talked about the parallel of Titus 2:4-5 and Proverbs 31:11.  The older women are to teach the younger women to love their husbands and how the heart of her husband trusts in her.  Let’s pick up with the same two instructions a couple words further.  The text says “the heart of her husband trusts in her and he will have no lack of gain.  She does him good and not evil all the days of her life.” (Proverbs 31:11-12).  So here we are…still learning about our husband’s heart and what and how loving them with an affectionate love helps us burrow into that red pulsating seat of emotions, where courage to lead is either strengthened and built upon or torn down by our own hands (see Proverbs 14: 1).  A place that can either harbor a safe shelter of understanding towards us, or run from finding a resolution to conflict.  A lump of beating red able to store away sweet memories or avoid even making a memory because memories aren’t safe… too many scars. How do we handle our husband’s hearts with the gentlest of care and the tenderest of touch with our affectionate love in order to create a sanctuary of trust and safety?  You see the next word “trust” means just that, “to feel safe, secure, confident and bold, careless, to hope.”  Thayer’s Greek Lexicon puts it this way, “to confide in anyone, to set ones hope and confidence upon.”  Surely, this sounds like a huge responsibility for us.  After all, they are the ones instructed to lead us, right? Yes, but what a privilege to be given the responsibility to help our husband’s lead with courage, boldness and confidence!  And what a sweet gift we are given when we lay open bare our own hearts inviting our husband’s in where he feels safe enough to confide his deepest fears and longings…and how even more glorious when we have practiced confession of sin to our husband’s in such a way that they feel safe enough to trust us with their own confession of sin. This is possible.  But we need to return to the ancient paths I wrote about in my blog titled, “I Want To Teach You To Sink” and “Order in The Garden.”  Listen to the next verse in Proverbs 31:12, ” she does him good and not evil, all the days of her life…” ALL THE DAYS OF HER LIFE! This woman, who fears the Lord, is first looking out for her husband before herself, before her children, before her work, before her household duties, before her ministry. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. OF HER LIFE. The two scriptures I am blogging about put in order our precious and sacred responsibility under the authority of a Holy God.  Our responsibility is first to fear the Lord, and then to do good to our husbands all the days of our lives in such a way that their fragile hearts may go forth in confidence having no lack of gain.  What is gain? It is defined in the Hebrew as plunder or booty, as the goods obtained from war.  Now, I could go into how marriage is war….and it can be sometimes, but I don’t believe that is the context here.  The context actually means that he is blessed.  Literally with “his life as booty” that he is “preserved alive.” Now I am not a fan of modern day psychology even though I graduated with a degree in it, but some of what I learned was sincerely valuable.  Like when I took a class on gender and one of the studies researched on women who stay home verses women who work revealed that men who have stay at home wives tend to live healthier and longer lives, then men who are married to women who work.  I found this fascinating, but really it’s simple.  The men who had stay at home wives were more focused on their husbands needs, more focused on caring for their husbands, mind, body and soul. They realized their main job and priority was to invest in their husband and studies proved their husbands were blessed with longer lives as a result of it.

Oh sweet woman of God, dear beloved daughter, this is not to incite within you bitterness and resentment towards caring for your husband.  When we return to the ancient paths God has called us to, something soul-satisfyingly sweet happens within this earthly covenant love.  Would you join me in traveling that ancient path and becoming a student of our husband’s hearts? I promise you when you walk that path in search of God’s heart…messed up marriages begin to make sense even amidst the mess, and as you peer into your husband’s heart, may you see a reflection of your own heart, your own scars that need to be exposed and seen in order that you can run to the One who bled for these two hearts…. that they, together, may breathe fresh life with every beat of their brokenness glorifying Christ and reflecting to this broken world an all consuming, relentlessly pursuing, ever-chasing Invisible Love?

Next time we meet, I hope to give some practical suggestions and insight gleaned from this search…this 21 year, swimming in grace, reclining on Christ, being scrubbed down with grace at the cross, life.

Consumed in His love, no really…swaddled and wrapped and held,

trish

The heart of her husband…the heart of her husband. Five little words that in themselves do not form a sentence…they are but a fragment of something bigger, yet those parts to a bigger whole, words that dig holes….and stay a while, or search for a home….or tunnel down deep in order to get to the other side….that’s what they were doing….the heart of her husband…trusts in her…those parts, they just kept digging until they became a prayer in sync with my breath.  Teach me, Lord, would you teach me about the heart of my husband?

It was quiet in our bedroom the other night.  There were no announcers talking about the British Open, or background noise from a giant crowd mixed with shrill squeaking of rubber soles on polished wood.  My soul was sinking into the word of God by lamplight as my body sunk a bit deeper into my well indented side of the bed.  The goose was next to me…where he always was.  Nothing had ever separated us in 21 years.  Grace.   “Where are you?”  Without taking my eyes off the page, I answered, “Ephesians.”  “What part of Ephesians?” Quietly pondering where this conversation might be being sovereignly led, I said, “I’m reading and praying through Epehsians 1.” Another question from the goose, “What do you pray about?”  More pondering…. I could answer in a short brushing him off sort of way in order to get back to my reading, or I could let him in to what was stirring so deeply within me.  Could I let him in…there?  The place that longs and yearns and pants and feels crushed with a soul thirsty craving that my partner in life could never satisfy? Was never meant to? Was it safe? What would he say? Could I share my innermost thoughts, passions, emotions, and ache with him? That ache that I didn’t even know existed before I met Someone else?  Could I really let him in there? I decided to let him in…”I can’t get over His grace.  When I read I can’t get over that I was chosen before the foundation of the world!  I have to stop and pray every few words...”I love Jesus so much…so very much.  He lavishes grace and love on us!! It’s too much sometimes.  I can’t get over that He would choose to lavish such grace on us. I ache for more of him, like deep in my bones, I can feel it.  When I pray there are always tears.  He leads me to repentance and I just always want to be in His presence.  It’s like fresh rain, or a sweet and heavy holiness I can’t understand but instinctively know is there.  I’m not afraid.  I want to know Him more and more.  I’m so in love.  You know I’m in love with Him, right?”  the words just sort of spilled out and rolled along and bumped into one another….Quiet hesitation, and then another question, “Yeah, I know.  That’s not going to affect our marriage is it?”  “What? Me being in Love with Jesus? No! It will only make our marriage better, it can only make me love you more!” “It’s hard following Christ, Trish.”  “I know, but in a way it’s simple, He promises his burden is easy and His yoke is light.

So there it was, I had let him in…I had been asking God to teach me about my husband’s heart. When we last met here, I had been hoping to start blogging about God’s non-negotiable instructions to women regarding our husbands, children and households given to us in Titus 2 and Proverbs 31. The first verses that parallel one another within those instructions have to do with the heart of our husband, and I needed to learn more.  So I began to pray, “Lord, teach me about the heart of my husband.”  I don’t think there was any coincidence why we entered into such an intimate conversation that night.  In God’s mysterious and intricately woven way of answering prayer, soveriegn love was stirring and connecting two hearts in the beauty of holiness and wonder. But how does this coincide with Titus 2 and Proverbs 31?  It has been said and passed down from one generation of women to the next that the way to to a man’s heart is through his stomach.  Now I love cooking for my husband and family and friends.  I experience sheer joy in full and satisfied bellies.  I love nourishing their bodies this way.  My heart rejoices when all the college kid can think about is coming home to her mama’s home-cooking.  What a privilege to bless my loved ones this way, yet I can assure you, the way to your husband’s heart is not through his stomach, but through Christ and Christ alone.  So we must start there. We cannot love our husband’s in a way that glorifies God unless we return to our first love in Christ. How will the heart of our husband trust in us if we are not daily seeking and pursuing Christ and His authority in our lives? How will we even know what that means, unless we desire to know Christ above all else? You see, it is vitally important that we understand that Titus 2 and Proverbs 31 are so much more than rules to follow.  When joyously applied within the context of pursuing to know Christ, they become a language of love flowing from our hearts first to our God, and then to those God has directly blessed us with.

The heart is mentioned over and over in Scripture, and is defined in the Hebrew as the “inner man, the seat of appetites and emotions, passions, the soul, mind, understanding, resolution and determination, thinking, reflection, memory, friendly, comfortably and care.”  Wow.  That is a lot to think about for sure when we are being mindful of our husband’s heart. But how mysteriously beautiful and wonderful that through pursuing God, he may lead us to deeper intimacy with our husband’s as we get to know their hearts? However, I cannot stress enough that this can only come through knowing and pursuing Christ and “adorning the gospel” in our marriages.  To “adorn” literally means to “wear” and to put on display.  I once read it was like decorating a Christmas tree with beautiful ornaments and brilliant lights. So we must take great care in living out the gospel in our marriages and ask ourselves, “Are we putting on display the fruit of the Spirit written to us in Galatians 5:19-22, in our relationships?  Are we living out love, joy, peace, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control? To get practical, how is the attitude of your heart when your husband asks you to do something for him that you see as an inconvenience? Do you roll your eyes as I often have? Do you immediately think, “what has he done for me lately? Doesn’t he see how much I do for him already?” Do you hesitate in your answer or answer with a tone of irritation? Or is your heart willing to serve in the attitude of serving Christ? Are you thanking God daily for the gift of your husband even when he feels more like a burden than a gift? Are you regularly praying for him? For him to love the Lord with all of his heart and lead his family well?  Are you trusting in God’s sovereignty even when he doesn’t? Are you trusting in His sovereignty even when your children are grown and he hasn’t led in the way you have desired? How can the heart of our husband’s trust in us, if we don’t trust in the sovereignty of God and have no fear of our future, like the Proverbs 31 woman? So much more I intend to write about dear one….but for now, some thoughts:  We must handle with greatest care the heart of our husbands as we look to the only One Who holds our hearts and knows our hearts, both ours and our husbands. We will never know everything there is to know about our husband’s heart, for only God can know that, but before I sign off, think and pray through the meaning of the word “heart” in scripture. Remember these words as you reflect on these questions and intentionally pray through them:  courage, emotions, soul, mind, understanding, thinking, reflection, memory, friendly, comfortably, care.  Are we helping our husband’s in a way that promotes courage to lead within them? Are we helping them control their emotions by not provoking them or manipulating them with our tendencies to be over- sensitive or demanding our own way? Are we praying for their soul, especially if they are unbelievers? Are we praying about godly conversations that encourage quiet reflection and understanding and in turn lead to growth in the marriage? Are our husband’s comfortable with us? Do they feel safe with us in order that they don’  have to worry about being attacked or torn down?  Are we trusting God and letting them lead even when we think our way is better? Are we letting them into our hearts as we adorn the gospel….desiring more than anything to show them our love for Christ, and in so doing loving them as Christ loved us? Do we lavish grace on them when they have wronged us? Or do we withhold in some form of punishment? Do we withhold affection? Conversation? Serving?  But understand, it is never about doing things better, but loving Christ more…if we get this…if we aim for this….then may our husband’s hearts become a place where we invest and the world catches a glimpse of an invisible God….

Much love,

trish

So as I was thinking about why I am blogging the other day, several reasons came to my mind through question-scattered prayers…why am I even doing this?  Will anyone even read it? Do you want me to write, Lord? How can I bring you glory through it when it seems to point to me and my life even when I desire for it to point to you?  I’m so passionate about You, about the husband and kids you have given me…will it sound like I have it all together? You know I dont…Silence preceded the shiver-whisper, and then it was there… “You don’t get to write because you did it all right, but because My grace covered what you did wrong.”  Whew! Whew! Whew!  And so I write.  I write because I am full of passion, and passionate people screw things up.  Ever hear of Peter?  Yeah, I’m kind of like Peter that way.  One thing is clear: Peter loved his Lord….passionately.  In fact it was Peter, through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, who penned one of my two life verses and is what I decided to name this entire blog after, “Though you do not see Him, you love him, and though you cannot see Him now, you believe Him and rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory” (1 Peter 1:8).  You see, the Lord has intricately woven my life together in such a way that even in all of my past sin, choosing wrong when I should have chosen right, selfishness, unkind words, and pride, it is a wildly beautiful life because when my Abba looks at me, He sees Christ.  Since the moment He transferred Christ’s righteousness to me in the gift of salvation, he has been righting my wrongs. He knew back then I would still disrespect my husband, act selfishly as a wife and mother, become irritated with my kids, judge other believers, desire my own way, shift blame, and relentlessly celebrate me in manipulative pity parties. None of these things were the wildly beautiful part.  The wildly beautiful part came and continues to come with God’s undeserved kindness towards me when I act this way.  Because He has promised to finish the good work He has started at me, he just won’t leave me in my sin.  His glory is at stake.  So what does He do? His Holy Spirit graciously reminds me that I have sinned against a Holy God in actions, words, or attitude of heart and that I must confess and repent.  So when I say something hurtful, unkind or manipulative to my husband in order to get my way, I must first go to the cross recognizing my own depravity, and secondly to my husband admitting my sin and asking his forgiveness.  Something wildly beautiful happens as sin and forgiveness collide.  Expressions of grace awaken the senses in these collisions.  God becomes more real, love deepens, souls are cleansed, and a bit more of his glory passes by as he holds us safely in the cleft of the rock. This is the wildly beautiful part.  So I write….because of Him and He is right.  So right.

consumed in his love.  Really.

trish

If I am going to take you on this journey… A journey of sinking into Christ and learning from Him as women disciples, women who crave the ancient paths…you know those unpopular, old-fashioned even debatebly boring, ancient paths? May I suggest to you that these paths are anything but boring, that these paths are filled with the seeking and sinking into an all powerful God who desires that we know Him in such a way that when we begin to discover who He is, we will be left in knee-hitting ground awe, speechless in wonder, and a bursting heart leaking inexplainable joy, that we will be anything but bored.  These are the paths that lead to God and to rest, and we must heed his word, “Thus says the Lord, ‘stand by the roads, and look and ask, for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘we will not walk in it'” (Jeremiah 6:16).  Oh weary, burdened mama, beloved sister, let us be women who heed this quickly!  Let us not be obstinate women who say, “we will not walk in it!”  He promises rest for our souls if we heed  the ancient and true paths!  When will we be women who so seriously take His word to us that we “tremble at His Holy words?” (Jeremiah 23:9).  Esteemed daughter, there is a path for us…a path that was painted with all the colors of creativity, beauty, tenderness of heart, feminity in all its softness, compassion, gentle hands and kind tongues…a path, though purposefully placed on unfamiliar terrain, through deep valleys, up steep mountains, and across sun drenched meadows, nevertheless, it was intentionally placed before every choice woman of God to bravely set her feet upon, to courageously set out, with a determination to not look back….if we believe there is a path that leads to Him and to rest in marriage and motherhood, then we need to start in the beginning and decide.  We need to decide and resolve that there is a God who made us.  Who made us male and female and assigned to us beautiful complementary roles, and that within these roles, there is an order, for our God is a God of order and within that order He made all things good (1 Corinthians 14:14, 1 Timothy 4:4). If we decide this….If we understand this basic premise to diving into a sea of wonder and beauty within the black and white phrases, jots and tittles….then this book of words will be sure to come alive and actively at work as the Holy Spirit illuminates the ancient paths for us.  Dangerously at work.  Purifying.  Consuming Work.  Blowing away chaff.  Cultivating fruit.  luxurious  fruit and green foliage that will not shrivel up even in our season of lack and want…..if we believe and so therefore we speak…that He is God, then we can start.  For by proclaiming and confessing He is God, and understanding what it means to surrender your life to Christ as Lord of your life, then we are in fact saying that He is in rightful authority over our lives and we joyfully submit to His Holy word.  That Holy word, as holy as it is, as difficult as it is, becomes easy as we apply it to a rightly positioned heart in submission to Christ and his magnificent and glorious instructions to us as women.  So let’s start….in the beginning; the garden.

In the beginning, God had been at work.  A holy work.  A good work.  And he had skillfully crafted all that we know as the earth, the sea, the sky and all they contained.  Hanging lights on a canvas of black, jagged moss and snow covered rock reaching into clouds, deep caverns of swirling water where glowing fish dart about and hauntingly hover….magnificent scaled beasts, and the dance of the  amoeba… Bouncing about….is there a rhyme to it all?  A reason perhaps?  Is there an order of things and worlds and planets and times and epochs and nights and days and generation after generation of human life?  The answer is yes. And we will find it in the garden.  Enter with me into the most beautiful place on earth.  A place where God’s  presence was known to man before sin.  A place He had perfectly and ever so carefully designed for man to live and to thrive and to enjoy the presence of God. Perfect climate. Lush vegetation. Crystal River. Colors so brilliant and life so vibrant we would be left hand over mouth breathless.  The garden was paradise and it had been given to man to live.  God loves giving good gifts to His children and I beleive this to be the first of many gifts, other than his very breath within them.  It was to be an unending vacation in paradise.  This is the place God had prepared for his people.  This is a God of good gifts.  What kind of love breathes  life into dust and then tenderly places that God-formed life in the most beautiful place on earth? Our God. The one who made male and female (Genesis 1:27).  The One who fashioned these two brilliant creatures to be equal in worth yet vastly different in physical appearance, thoughts and ideas, temperament, emotions, personalities, skills and abilities, over which all, He was in charge and had masterfully and specifically designed within each to complement the other, serve the other, and to glorify their Maker.  The two, made in the image of Him, each a masterpiece, a workmanship with the mark of a holy God, intertwined and made one flesh, and God delighted and celebrated and angels peered down in puzzlement.  For they were not angels, they were mortal, yet oh how they reminded the angels of God in image.  What a wonderment to behold, a man and a woman. And how did the order become?  There was God, the holy triune God, and then God formed his precious Adam out of dirt.  Since it was not good for man to be alone, God tenderly put His Adam to sleep and took from him a rib in order to fashion Eve and create for Adam a “helper.” (Genesis 2:18).  The God who keeps giving gifts, gave His beautiful Eve to His precious Adam.  There was The perfectly happy self existent triune God.  There was precious Adam.  There was lovely, beautiful eve given to “help” Adam.  There is our order.  This order helps set the stage for God’s instructions to women.  If God created Eve,to be Adam’s helper, what does that help mean?  What does it look like?  Does it look the same today as it did back then? In order to answer these questions we will closely parallel Titus 2 and Proverbs 31 beginning with the first order of instruction in both passages.  When we meet again we will explore our instruction to “love our husbands” and to discover “the heart of our husband that trusts in her” (Titus 2:4, Proverbs 31:11).

consumed in His love,

trish

Ahhhh….summer.  Slow down.  Capture it for more than a moment.  Behold its beauty.  It’s warmth.  Dance in the lush bladed carpeting between your toes and chase bugs that glow.  Feel the heat of hours of sun baked into pavement on the bottoms of your bare feet.  Warm them.  Dip them in water off of a dock.  Cool them.  Drive.  For hours. Touch the soft velvet of brilliant wildly-colored blooms.  Listen to the chorus of the night owl.  Really listen.  Can you hear him?  He sounds hungry…”who cooks for you…?  Who cooks for you…?”  This seems to be his question over and over.  Look up.  Mama bird is poking worms into oversized beaks poking out of feathers in your hanging basket.  Hear thunder.  Watch lightening.  Inhale magnolia in June.  Have front porch conversations on nothing-Saturday mornings and slowed-down evenings after filled bellies are satisfied with fried chicken and family. Get to know one another better in this slower pace of summer with extended evenings.  Front porch conversations talk about 6 foot 3 holdin’ 5 foot nothin’s hand at an old time county fair, and the glee of extended Ferris wheel rides.  Innocent dates. Front porch conversations talk about get rich quick ideas with a 19 year old and the wisdom of Gods word and the value of long. Steady. Hard. Work. Front porch conversations allow for real muscle crunching belly laughter…that heals.  Good medicine for tired bones and weary hearts.  Front porches house wicker in small spaces for nestling close and listening well.  Peer into eyes… Sink into souls.  Stay.   The cat and the dog drift off to familiar voices having real life face to face conversations while cell phones are charging out of sight and reach.  Front porches echo stories of the two who are one’s first days and months together.  Lessons are learned from stories like these….as true love deepens.  Front porch conversations forget t.v.  Front porch conversations forget the work of the day and dream about tomorrow.  ahhhhh…….front porches were made for summer.  Come, sit…..just “be” on the front  porch.  Experience the stillness.  Don’t plan.  Don’t rush.  Just sink…..he is God, you know?  Maybe…just maybe, God created summer for rest. To rest from work.  To retreat.  To sabbath.  To breathe.  To sink deeper into Him.  Longer into Him.  Pressing.  A time to love one another better.  Longer.  Harder….as we work on relationships.  Pray.  Pray wisely about seasons and times for serving….and times for resting.  Evaluate and examine.  Prioritize.  Love the members of your household well by just being mom.  Being there.  Teach them not to rush…..and really use your front porch for what it’s there for.  Sitting.  Being still.

I am passionate about being a wife and mother.  I am even more passionate about living out my calling as a wife and mother in the way God designed me to live.  Yet I cannot be passionate and excited about this calling unless I am first and foremost most passionate about my Savior, my Life,my First Love, in Christ.  He is the reason I write to you today for apart from Him I can do nothing.  So I have learned to abide in Him and He has truly made my joy complete in Him and what He has assigned me to do in this life.  Two of the greatest gifts second to the undeserved gift of salvation are being a wife and mother.  I have longed to write about and teach younger women who are married what a high and valuable calling this.  I say calling, because in Christ we are called to walk in a manner worthy of Him and the gospel of grace.  But often marriage and children are left clinging to our yoga pants as we run out the door and pursue what we believe to be more satisfying, more fulfilling, or even more for the Kingdom of God.  Breathe with me for a second, sweet mama….exhausted wife…come inhale the rest that is offered to you by the gentle and easy yoke of Christ (Matthew 11:28-30).  Be still and know that He is God (Psalm 46:10).  Did you know the original meaning of the word “still” as used in the verse, means to sink down or into?  Oh sweet and cherished, highly esteemed daughter of God, would you sink down into Him with me as we let the truth of His Word wash over us, revive us and give us a fresh outlook on our marriages and motherhood as we place ourselves under the yoke of Him who views marriage as a reflection of loving something so hard, so furiously, so relentlessly and unstoppable that he gave His life for it?  That’s right.  God loved the church and all those who would come to truly know Him so much, nothing could stop this mysterious love.  Not even death.  Do we long to love our husbands like this? Have we lost all hope of loving like this? Are we numb to the passion and the heights and depths and deeply felt emotions for our husbands we once had?  Let me stop you right there.   If you are hungry…if your are broken in marriage…if you feel nothing because youve been living too long in a lifeless marriage….if the distractions and demands of this world have choked out the truth of the beauty, sacrifice, and joy of your marriage….and stolen from you the incomparable sweetness of just you and child being together as an afternoon disappears, but holds the memory of skin on skin cuddling, echoes of silly giggles…at nothing…..and looking into deep inquisitive eyes that taught you something new about your child’s mysterious heart.  If you are exhausted from the constant demands of children and your life doesn’t look like the way you had always dreamed of….if life is so rushed that you feel as though the lives of your children are whizzing by at the rate of  the latest and greatest preschool and their teaching methods so your child doesn’t fall behind, to recognizing their talents before they can speak so that you can ensure they are enrolled in whatever it is that will enhance these seemingly unique and gifted abilities but run you ragged and leave you living for your next paycheck instead of for things that moth and rust cannot destroy in the gift of relationship.  From sports to music, to new  apps and programs that you are simply suffocating, struggling to breathe (and for some this is literal as we suffer from the effects of anxiety as a result of a too full schedule) then please sink down with me.  Sink down into Him with me as we explore His instructions to us, to His cherished, beloved women, and find true rest for your soul and the souls of those He has given to you and entrusted to you in your husband and wee ones. My desire is to help us discover “His rivers of delight”…..because “in His light, we see light” (Psalm 36).  Yes, precious sisters, as we open up our bibles and look at, meditate on, and learn from Him and  his desire for us and the families He has given to us, we will be splashing one another in the outpouring of His fountain of grace.  Prayerfully, I will write weekly and explore the whole context of His Word as we embrace the beauty and sophistication of our feminine roles.  Will you join me?

trish

A tribute to my son on graduation day, 2015.

A boy becomes…

Carter: named after your great, great gran-daddy, Carter Mayfield, born in the hot sultry south of Arkansas in the late summer of 1889. 107 years later, in the cold and frozen February of Northern Minnesota, came our Carter. He is named Carter for no other reason than my grandma, who I love very much, said one day in her sweet familiar southern drawl, “I sure wish one of you girls, if you end up having a boy, would name him Carter, after my daddy.” I needed no further convincing.

The Lord appointed me a son…and I am filled with awe.  When a son enters your world, you enter into something unknown, for girls never want to be boys.  Growing up, boys were funny and interesting, gross and dirty, mean and sometimes sweet.  They make girls nervous and silly.  Their lives tell a story intertwined with yours from where they originated… and they become.  So God sent a son to attach to a deep part within me….dark, warm, quiet….with the sound of water and the beat of red, love-shaped flesh. For 270 some odd days it sounded like this….woosh…woosh…woosh… while he was becoming… being formed like clay by the hand of the Potter, intricately and skillfully woven together like the art of the Master Weaver creating a workmanship…that only Carter could become. But then one day  the safe woosh of water and heart were drowned out by bright lights and loud voices and he was afraid…until a strong and gentle hand laid him on warm skin and he heard the the woosh…. again. The two who had become one took home the boy so he could keep becoming.  He had already become a brother….to two girls……familiar voices that talked to him… touched him in awe and wonder at something so tiny…a toddler’s sticky lips would gently kiss this brother of hers….. becoming.  There were bigger hands, too….. holding, teaching, changing…helping the mama…..they too, appointed to help him become….  and when he was afraid, sisters were safe.  One day the mama’s heart heard the Voice without sound say, take the three to church so they can become….and so the two who were one, took the boy and his sisters to church and his tiny ears heard stories about God and Jesus His son…..with other kids who were becoming.  After that the mama would take the boy and his sister on long walks and tell them about God and Jesus and heaven. And the two little ones would ask their mama when they could see God and when they could go to heaven….because they really wanted to go….and while mama pondered all these things in her heart, angels listened  in wonder at conversations between children and mothers about God and things in which those angels longed to look….When it was time for the boy to go to school and learn things like children do so they can become… the boy was afraid, and he was learning that part of becoming was being afraid…..so the sister gently took his hand and walked him to a room with other kids so he could learn and become for a season of color, and of white, and of wind and rain and green….every day…..holding his hand…….so he wouldn’t be afraid.  Sometimes at night, the boy was afraid and mama would kneel at his bed and softly pray, “Lord Jesus, let him become like You, quiet and gentle at heart….full of wisdom, serving and caring for others, leading them well…..and the boy would go to sleep, and while he slept he would grow and become.  Mama did this night after night… Mama was always mostly in the kitchen….but in between faucets running and skillets sautéing……and oils frying and knives dicing……she could hear off in the distance sounds of gunfire and wounded plastic guys falling….and light sabers clashing.  Once in a while she would peek into a world of castles and knights in armor being built in living rooms and scattered through hallways…..and she marveled at her small boy becoming.  And then one day legos and cars and Lukes and Darth Vaders were put into boxes……and though mama’s heart felt empty and she stopped to catch her breath …..she knew her boy must keep becoming.  The two who were one often brought home balls and clubs and bats that might help the boy become….but God said, “ I fashioned his fingers for stringed instruments…..to play and to strum out a rhythm I have woven into his heart…..and it will break-forth into song…….and so the boy strummed and played and sang with all of that stuff God wove into his heart.  And then one day inside that old familiar church, where he had been becoming…..the boy said to his mama, “I want Jesus…” and so right there, the boy and his mom prayed inside those familiar doors… and sounds… and songs….and Mike…… … and the boy told Jesus, he wanted Him.  Then hand in hand mama and son walked up to a table and broke bread and drank wine……and God said, “and now into the likeness of my Son you must become….”

And the boy played that guitar with all of his heart to other kids who were becoming like Jesus…..and he decided to once again, take the hand of his sister and be brave in front of all those kids, and be led into a tub filled with water in that old familiar church.  Dunked with his sister at his side…and to put on display his desire to follow Jesus….and angels cheered. The boy became a teenager and some of those same kids with tiny ears that listened to stories about God, together wide-eyed and side by side, were together again in a basement writing music, banging on drums, and singing into microphones…shaking windows.  And mama would sneak into the well of the stairs to watch and to listen while things were frying and boiling …..and mom would sing along and dance….in the kitchen, to teenage boys becoming.

One day the boy went to work and he worked so hard he thought he would die.  Everything hurt and he begged his mom to not make him go back the next day…..his mom sat next to him on his bed and said, you must go back, for you must keep becoming……and God was watching……for He had a Son who knew the ache and the weary of hard work…..framing houses for people to live and become. And the boy learned to work hard, and know this too, is from God, in order for him to keep becoming.   And the boy kept singing and strumming…… loud from the basement, and mom would listen and tears would spill down her cheeks in wonderment at God’s design… and she prayed….. “for You, Lord, let it be for You…for Your glory, that he becomes…”

And the boy kept becoming with the voice of his dad now……There were conversations in kitchens about God-chasing… and fear… and idols…. and decisions to be made….. and that boy and his mom prayed about these things, while angels listened and watched that boy becoming….

And then the day finally came when it was time to shut the door on the building where the same faces gathered each year for those old familiar seasons of color and white and wind and rain and green…and the boy was afraid…..and the two who were one sat at the side of his bed and prayed, that God would show him how to keep becoming….and the young man who had become so much more than his mama could ever dream or ask for safely went to sleep.  “I will never leave you or forsake you…and I will complete the good work I started in you.” (Hebrews 5:8, Philippians 1:6)

The following blog was inspired by four different sources intricately woven together and thoughtfully sorted through over the last few days….1) I am desperately trying to stay in tune with my emotions as I enter into my empty nest season and so I am reflecting a lot. 2) I had a conversation with my younger sister yesterday and we talked about these things. 3) I had the gift of sweet prayer time with one of my most cherished friends this morning, whose kids I get to pray for and sometimes even lug around her youngest with me. 4) Ann Voskamp greatly inspires me in my writing.

So here you go:

Don’t try and live tomorrow today…

If there is any experienced advice, any humble wisdom to be passed on, any truth to speak into an anxious Mama’s heart, it would be this…don’t live tomorrow today….  Living tomorrow today robs. Living tomorrow today breeds anxiety, performance, worry, fear. Living tomorrow today teaches children to grow up and be somebody tomorrow while stealing from them who they are today. Living tomorrow today steals joy…quiet locked eyes ….windows into love….the study of a dimple….curves of eyelashes, and tracing a mole or string of freckles….a mark of you now stamped on them.  Living tomorrow today hears a distant quiet question playing on repeat…. drowned out by tomorrow and leaves a conversation of curious forgotten…why do spiders have webs? Who feeds the animals? And when can I see God?  Can I sell marshmallows to the neighbors?  Why are you mad, mom? And questions that find their answers in the patience of a five year-old’s daily check-in with a tightly wrapped cocoon…..who somehow understands  the innocent secret of not rushing God…. Waiting for wings… Living tomorrow today won’t remember trufulla trees and Loraxes….every.single.night….all 365 of them.  Living tomorrow today takes prayer into the future instead of the present.  Living tomorrow today makes you crave instead of not wanting.  Living tomorrow today demands answers…..that today can’t rest in. Living tomorrow today doesn’t hear….see….touch….taste or smell…. NOW. Living tomorrow today can’t leave dishes for tomorrow or laundry for another day….trading it in for a walk to the pond just to hear the song of the bullfrog, or trace God’s outline of black and yellow lines against orange on the belly of a turtle.  Living tomorrow today doesn’t race in a blizzard….and stare in wonder at gigantic woven flakes of cold white….or create the smell-memory of butter mixed with sugar and vanilla  welcoming a tired third-grader on a chilly fall day at four.  Living tomorrow today doesn’t enter into six year old giggles and 4 year old meltdowns….and stir pancakes together.  Living tomorrow today can’t become… and be shaped in the moment…because it looks to a picture of having become something tomorrow sells.  It doesn’t watch the ant tunnel, or strawberries turn red, or watch blooms awaken and slowly unfold in warmth and glow….or hummingbirds hover…it doesn’t hear the worship song of the cardinal, or see the dance of the willow tree…..or smell the wind.  It doesn’t say goodnight to tired skies being gently tucked in by God in glowing blankets of purple and pink….and how will it ever find out if your five year old likes butter by the reflection of a weed on his milky white chin?  Living tomorrow today doesn’t leave grass stains and dirt and popsicle drips resting on piles….so it can snap smiles….for pictures in frames.  It misses bike rides in pajamas through snoring neighborhoods under curious stars.  It doesn’t see God in handprints on windows…..and toothpaste on countertops and rings in bathtubs…..it misses conversations with 14,15,16,17,18 and 19 year olds when terrified of tomorrow need you  today….Tomorrow reaches when today teaches….the humble amazement and wonder of God’s Father-heart.  “For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?  Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap, nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not worth much more than they?  And who of you be being worried can add a single hour to his life?  ……do not worry then, saying, What will we eat? or what will we drink?  or what will we wear for clothing?  For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.  But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.  So do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will take care of itself…” Matthew 6:25-34.

My garage needs a good cleaning.  You would think after just having a graduation party two years ago….it wouldn’t need this big of a cleaning, but it does.

Welcome to my garage: aka, the dumping place for everything we don’t want to bring into the house, and everything we want to get out of the house. Right now it currently houses two oversized tube t.v.’s, our very first mattress and box-spring purchased from an estate sale back in 1992, boxes that belong to our oldest child who hasn’t lived with us since 2011, bikes, golf clubs, tools rarely used, antique beer signs, etc…along with everything else that is not allowed in the house and everything else already taken out of the house that is forbidden to re-enter.  There is always an unachieved plan for the “don’t bring it in!” and the “get it out!” things.  A plan to take them to a better place.  Where they will be happy.  Or at least I will be happy for never having to see them again.  But the clutter continues to build….as salt-stained boxes teeter on top coolers and pieces of furniture from another time awaiting new life.  Leaves continue to blow in and out, small sandbars form in dark oily corners, salt and grime accumulate on the floor under things, around things, and on things, leaving the boxes stained, dirty and broken down…with the bottom about to drop out.  And if we are honest, this is a picture of our hearts. Yeah, sometimes it feels like the bottom is about to drop out of the cluttered messes of our lives and hearts…….

We have now neglected this overwhelming accumulation in our garage so long, we still have graduation decorations mysteriously blowing in the wind, desperately clinging to the ceiling where they have been push-pinned to from the last kid who graduated. A bit faded, but hey, congrats to the next one in three weeks! Tiny shiny blue stars have made there way into the landscaping over the course of a determined two year journey from garage to just around the corner of the garage, and alongside the back of the house….somehow surviving 30 below winters, and 100 degree heat-waves of summer. Congratulations to them.  And, if clothes can be hand-me-downs, why not the now dull, once gleaming “Congratulations Graduate” sign?  This is my garage.  Welcome to my dumping ground where moved out children’s things still linger in the salt of winter’s past…and graduation decorations still blow as one season ushers in another… and if I stand there staring long enough…. at those things….in the garage….. memories begin to surface from within those un- insulated four walls…a place where haunting echoes of 80’s music barely blares to the rhythm of waxing a car…extra-long guitar solos from the calloused fingers of  long-haired rockstars and the scent of turtle wax drift off…..  I can hear voices now…..agitated voices hiding from children but exposing feelings in full at one another…. (garages are good for hidden arguments and and full on marital wars)…they too fade, floating away in a sea of selfish anger and blame ….and the sound of whispers and giggles in between stolen kisses now….two teenagers in the silent black before dawn ….cautious, yet carefree…..trying not to interrupt the slumber of two 40 year old heads pressed deep into down fluffiness….unaware parents.  This is my garage, and things have happened here. Some good and memorable, like the 80’s music that somehow made the old ride come to life.  Or the barely strips of sticky tape where lines were once laid on cement so my daughter could practice walking again after brain injury.  And then some bad, like unseen word weapons landing on and penetrating an already wounded heart. This extension of our home has housed small animals in shoeboxes, and fed strays….. but it has also housed things that moth and rust destroy…..and it has become bitter, bitter cold in the dead of winter.  And now it must be cleaned for yet another celebration. The junk has to go, the broken boxes need burning…

And just like this old cluttered garage…I can’t help but think it somehow represents our hearts.  Oh how we can hold onto “things” in our hearts.  We can stack them up and make them look organized all we want….we can even make sin look organized….so it doesn’t seem so, well “sinful.”  We will just tidy it up, without really getting rid of it….like gossip…I’ll just put that in my small group box….no one will see it over in this corner.  Or self-performance….I’ll store it in my ministry box over in this corner, for under the guise of ministry it won’t look like sin……or bitterness toward church leadership….I can stack that up in a box and label it “concern for our church”…. or judgment toward brothers and sisters in Christ….I’ll box that one up and label it “other people’s sin.” But all too soon, the boxes neatly tucked away in the corners of our cold hearts become too weighed down, battered over time….and the bottom is about to give way.  We become burdened with our sin and we don’t even recognize it as sin.  It’s just the stuff of life that accumulates over time in our hearts.  We tell ourselves there isn’t anything wrong with holding onto it….I mean, there really isn’t any sense in getting rid of it.  After all, we’ve become comfortable with the cluttered garages of our hearts, dark and dingy and overflowing with unwanted stuff as they may be.  But if we listen long enough……standing in the center of our own hearts…..we will see and hear things that need to go. We will see and hear things that need to stay. And then we know….the good things that need to stay are there because Jesus is there….He’s been there a long while now standing in the middle of it with us, and he’s looking at all those boxes that need to go…..and in a flood of mercy and kindness He motions toward the cross…. and so one by one we carry our bottomed-out boxes to Him…..taking with us words….weak, broken words….take my gossip, my self-performance, my judgmental heart, my pride.  And faithfully He takes from us the weight of those beaten and worn boxes and cleanses the dark corners of our hearts with a downpour of grace that floods in and washes away our sin, right down to the dirty oil stains that we could never scrub away in full….and now we can unashamedly CELEBRATE!  Our hearts are clean, the burden of sin is gone, no more stacking…hiding….organizing away in neat little corners. Once again, Grace has entered in…..and we dance with delight and celebrate a grace we do not deserve.

So I got this gift once.  I never expected it.  Never wished for it.  It never floated in….or out. And I could never have prepared myself for it.  One day God said, “this will display my splendor and make Me glorious in the absence of glory…” and it fell…hard…on me…one day.  Brain injury entered our lives nine years ago when our daughter’s car met that tree.  The tree that for years bore the marks of change. Good change.  Glorious change.  But this post is not about brain injury…because there is nothing glorious in brain injury itself.  It is only God who is glorious in it.  Brain injury bears the marks of the fall…and an anguished groaning longing for restoration.  I heard the whisper the other day, “to display my splendor...” and my soul bowed in the presence of love.  Brain injury requires much.  Brain injury requires humility on both ends.  Both the brain injured and the one who loves the brain injured.   And so it is…and so it goes.  And so I go… into it. Some days filled with an unseen energy…other days, afflicted with exhaustion.  It was on the latter day I heard the whisper from the Voice without sound…”to display My splendor.”  Why?  Why is ok when we ask why in a way that draws you into a deeper knowledge of God.  An intimate knowledge of Jesus.  The “why?” that seeks an answer that steadies you.  Not the “why?” that feeds into bitterness, or flames self-promotion, or satisfies a betrayed heart…or offers temporary satisfaction that pacifies the self.  No, I’m writing, thinking, praying about the “why?” that comes after a full surrender to God’s sovereignty in your life, that has bowed to the Hand stretched over you, fully just.  Even when that sovereignty feels like severe mercy.  If we feel this.  If we know it.  We know the cross.  Not the “why me?  Why did this happen to me?  Why do I have to go through this?  But the “why NOT me?” When this has become your “why” question, you are safe to search the revealed mysteries of a holy God…“why not me?”  And you hear the whisper, as I did…a soft whisper, in between sigh-filled breaths, too tired to enter into another conversation that repeats…with every visit.  Too physically exhausted to go and serve in ways that lighten her load, but add to mine…the whisper, “to display My splendor…”  A whisper set against the background lazy afternoon song of the cardinal…he too is displaying His splendor…and why not?  It is what he was created for in his fiery blood red feathers…with a proud crown atop his head…and you catch a glimpse of glory, fire-red splendor.  And so it is, like my eyes that land on the beauty of the cardinal in all of God’s splendor, set against blue interrupted by white, I too, get to share in a glimpse of this glory as my overwhelmed mind, and tired body rise to move in sync with Him to display His splendor.  Today, on this day, when my soul was quieted by His tender voice…to display My splendor…had nothing to do with Him granting me that I would somehow find joy in it.  That He would somehow make it easier, and it would turn into a sort of mother-daughter type fun.  And I think to myself, I know I am supposed to try harder in these opportunities…moments of joy can be found if searched for hard enough.  In the middle of the empty search, something was about to flood in.  I had gotten it wrong.  Yet, somehow…it was all sweetly familiar, since He has become so very familiar, as He has taught and I have learned, to go low in the dark quiet hours of the morning, often before light greets the earth…to hear His secret counsel…why not me?  The question, again, floated in…and at that moment in time, splendor erupted in full…the answer came as if my soul knew it all along, but this time, it took root, deep…deep into the riches of Christ’s massive – unchanging love…because people will never bring you joy.  They weren’t created for that.  GOD BRINGS JOY! Wait…but does God just bring joy?  We have to be careful not to let that word “bring” separate God from joy.  I mean, we pray…we pray for God to restore our joy.  Maybe you are depressed…maybe there is sin that has robbed your joy…maybe your to do list has robbed your joy…maybe a person has robbed your joy…or so you think.  And all of this is theologically impossible.  Why?  Because GOD IS YOUR JOY!  GOD IS MY JOY!  Jesus, Himself, came to give us Himself that we would have abundant life and our joy would be full!  Would be full in Him!  And we echo the heart of the psalter, “In your presence is FULLNESS of joy…(psalm 16:11).  HE IS THE JOY!  It’s not like a box, with a shiny crinkle, delightful to the eye, that only comes a few times a year.  Don’t separate it like that.  God doesn’t think to Himself, Trish is running low on joy today, I’m going to wrap up my joy and place it before her so that she will delight more in the things I give to her.  NO.  He says, “I’m going to give her more of MYSELF today…and in that joy she will exult for she will exult in her God and display my glorious splendor.”

“Whom have I in heaven but You, and besides You I desire nothing on earth.” Psalm 73:25