Fight or Flight...or Surrender?

The Dessert Song by Hillsong 

Verse 1:This is my prayer in the desertAnd all that's within me feels dryThis is my prayer in the hunger in meMy God is a God who provides 

Verse 2:And this is my prayer in the fireIn weakness or trial or painThere is a faith provedOf more worth than goldSo refine me Lord through the flames 

Chorus:And I will bring praiseI will bring praiseNo weapon forged against me shall remain
I will rejoiceI will declareGod is my victory and He is here 

Verse 3:And this is my prayer in the battleAnd triumph is still on it's wayI am a conqueror and co-heir with ChristSo firm on His promise I'll stand 

Bridge:All of my lifeIn every seasonYou are still GodI have a reason to singI have a reason to worship 

Verse 4:This is my prayer in the harvestWhen favor and providence flowI know I'm filled to be empited againThe seed I've recieved I will sow 

As we sang this in church yesterday I got that little sob in my throat that prevented me from singing half the song as it completely describes my life over the past couple months.  "Desert" was how I had been describing my spiritual journey.  There may have been small glasses of water scattered throughout but a little glass only goes so far when one is parched dry.  Then something happened; I started to see in the far distance shades of green.  As I got closer, I saw that there was a waterfall and a large pool of cool, crystal-clear water.  The air cleared of dust and became cool as the sun warmed my face.  The lyrics in the above song reference some of the scripture that led me to that lush place of nourishment.

It all began much like how Eve's life began in our home.  Eve, or Evy, is a cat whom my husband and I rescued from the street.  When she came to us, she was very sick.  She had a really bad respiratory infection, was infested with fleas that sucked her blood into an anemic state, and was half her ideal weight.

We had to give Evy two different kinds of medicine: one for the infection and the other a vitamin complex for her anemia, which would help her to gain weight.  Frightened, giving Evy medicine was a challenge.  She would get so worked up as we tried to hold her down and squirt the liquid into her mouth that her breathing became shallow and labored.  She would flail her paws and scratch up our arms and try to flee.  Evy didn't understand that we were on her side; trying to help her heal from her afflictions.  In her effort to get away from us, she was causing herself harm.

Eve when we took her in--very affectionate but scraggly fur

Eve after about a week--fur already shinier and softer

One day as I was trying to give Eve her medicine on my own, I identified with her struggle.  She didn't like the medicine.  She didn't like being held down in order to receive it.  Trying to escape from what seemed like something bad but was actually something very good put her in a worse state than she already was in.  How ridiculous that God used a starving sickly cat to show me myself.

Eve about 3 weeks into living with us
VS

Eve the day after we took her in

At that time, I was trying really hard to do my Christian duty by spending time in the word, serving God's children, and going to church.  It all seemed like a chore.  I didn't want to do those things anymore.  I thought back to other times of struggle in my life where I clung to those things because they were so rich in life; they were my sustenance, my glasses of water in the desert.  This time, I seemed to be coming up empty.  My journal reads over and over, "Speak to me, Lord!  Give me direction!"  I'm glad I didn't give up because one day He did.

I made myself go to church even though Andrew had gone to an earlier service while I was working at a job I hate.  The day was already long and I don't like going to church on my own.  I had been wrestling with God about what to do with my time regarding service to Him through church.  I love serving the middle school kids on Tuesday nights at Surge.  I was just concluding a time of service for another ministry at our church called reGROUP (a ministry which helps adults find spiritual and emotional healing from their hurts, habits, and hang-ups), sensing that God was asking me to step down and refocus my time.  The question was whether I just focused on my 8th grade girls at Surge or trade my time at reGROUP to help launch a new ministry for the students similar to reGROUP.

As soon as I sat down, a saw a couple sliding past people in my row and sat next to me.  It was Jack, the director of reGROUP.  I thought it was ironic.  The service proceeded and I sensed God's presence strongly upon me.  The sermon was on Galatians 6:7-10.  The passage that stuck out to me was verse 9:

"And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up."

My notes from the sermon read:

"We won't see the results of our efforts when we want to...

**Are my trials--the things which are testing my patience--preparing me for a future challenge?**"

This was the catalyst for a changed perspective that allowed me to see the green on the horizon at the edge of my desert.  From there on, I broke away from a Bible study I was working through which felt like a mundane chore and began just allowing the word to speak to me.  In other words, I stopped making God hold me down so that He could inject His word into my mouth like a necessary treatment for life and began allowing His word to just wash into me like a flowing stream of nourishment.

I had just begun a new gym membership and decided that instead of plugging my earphones into the TV audio box on the elliptical trainer, I would listen to the New Testament on my i-pod.  The first day, God illuminated Matthew 10, where he tells how Jesus sent out his disciples without anything but the clothes on their backs and their walking sticks and tells them to trust the Father to provide; that if they are in a place where the message of Christ is received, then He will provide for all of their needs.  That seemed significant to my journey.  If I'm constantly fighting against how I'm spending my time, then maybe I'm not where I'm supposed to be.  Maybe I just need to surrender my time to the Lord and watch Him provide?

A couple days later I'm sitting in a lobby during an errand I was running.  There's people all around and I'm waiting for a guy to come out and tell me how much he thinks my car is worth so that I can sell it.  I'm thumbing through the gospels with the truth from Matthew 10 weighing on my heart and thinking how passionate I am about discipleship to teenagers.  My eye caught the tail-end of Matthew 9:

"And Jesus went throughout all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.  Then he said to his disciples, 'The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few;  therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.'" (emphasis mine)

I did everything I could not to break down and cry.  When I see the words "he had compassion for them" and "harassed and helpless" I think of teenagers, particularly middle school kids.  For over a week, any time I shared with someone what God placed on my heart regarding my desire to see teenagers come to know and grow in Christ, I would just sob with the compassion that overwhelmed me.  I know that there are many "groups" of people that could be described as "harassed and helpless"--the elderly, the homeless, people living in impoverished countries around the world, prostitutes, orphans, etc...--but the people I see when I read this passage are teenagers.  I wrote in my journal that day,

"This is a passage which has had meaning in my life before but I have never felt so emotional about it.  I think that more recently I have seen more deeply into people's hearts; from the very young to the very old.  I have seen how 'harassed and helpless' people can be.  None of these is more so that teenagers.  I feel so strongly drawn back into the kind of work I left in my own time of helplessness when I first moved to Florida...I feel drawn to an outreach and discipleship minded ministry...Lord, my desires, dreams, and visions just keep increasing until I think I might burst!  I'm at a point of surrender, only I know not which direction to fall.  I guess I must simply fall and trust that You will catch me."

Since then, I've been deeply investigating these passages in Matthew 9 and 10 with fervor.  I'm seeking counsel and prayer from those around me whom I trust and who trust Christ with their lives.  I'm looking back at Galatians 6:9 and seeing how God has already used my past trials to prepare me for a this current challenge which allows me to trust more deeply that I simply need to "not grow weary in doing good." I must trust that the seeds I am sowing through my current obedience to Christ will produce everlasting fruit in the future.   From the desert to the harvest, God is Lord of all and I am His daughter, "so firm on his promise I'll stand."

Escape

It seems that the more opportunities I have to travel over seas, the more frequently I have the longing to go.  Recently my husband and I were watching a television show set in England and remarked how great it would be to go there.  This urge has come to me more and more lately.  It might be a movie, a post on Facebook from a friend living in another country, or a support letter from a missionary but I'm frequently reminded that there is a bigger world out there than my little world that I live daily.  Maybe it's the stress of the chaos I've been living that inspired me to write this poem.

Visiting a castle in Slovakia, Summer 2011

Fly me away

To the great mounts of the Eastern Old

To the lush green Kingdom holds

Dash me from this familiar land

With my love who’s won my hand

Fly me away

To the unknown language, a rousing thrill

To the barefooted native hill

Dash me from dutiful fate

With my beloved whose heart did wait

Fly me away

To the Old Country’s ancient towers

To the narrow cobblestones to walk for hours

Dash me from this oft tread ground

With my dearest forever bound

Gratitude

Lately I've been walking through a spiritual dessert.  My life has been so haphazard for many reasons and it's thrown me a bit off kilter.  I'm yet again looking for the horizon.  However, amidst my frustrations, God has shown me very clearly that He's with me and that He knows all about my needs.  If I could only use one word to describe the last few weeks, it would be, "Grateful."

Andrew and I recently moved.  It was a bit of a crazy time.  The week before, we were planning for a weekend retreat with the middle school guys and girls we minister to through our church.  It's an awesome ministry and we are very invested.  However, we were going into the weekend knowing that we had 10 days to move out of our place as new tenants were moving in, and we had no idea where we'd be moving.  Well, of course, God provided.

Me (far left) with my co-leader, Jenny, and our 7th grade girls at camp

We looked at a place the Monday following the church retreat and it was so awful that I thought, "I will cry daily if I have to live here!"  Now, I knew that if God led us to move there, I would be obedient but I knew I would hate every minute of it.  It was the size of a shoe box, stepping into the house we were in the middle of the living room, three steps to the right and we were in the kitchen the size of a tissue box, two steps back and we were in the bathroom the size of a tin can, and three steps to the left and we were in the bedroom which might have fit our double bed which we'd have to jump onto from the doorway.  There were two small windows in the whole house about face-level which had bars on them.  I think that God showed us that place so that I would be more open and excited for the place we looked at on Tuesday.

I'd always been leery of living in a mobile home.  Where I'm from, it was not so kindly called, "trailer trash."  Basically, a person either lived in a trailer or on the street.  Andrew, however, had lived in one and said it was not that bad...and he would never bring me to a place that was "that bad."  So, we looked at the home on Tuesday where we filled out the application.  It wasn't "that bad."  Actually, it seemed spacious with lots of windows We received a call on Wednesday saying we were approved to live there, and we signed the lease on Thursday.  Grateful.

With the stress of finding a place to live, we hadn't packed a single box.  We figured we would do what we could over the weekend and finish up moving and cleaning the old place early the next week.  So, we got to work right away.  By Friday, we had a small dent in the packing when my Mother-in-Law and siblings came over to help.  Then my Father-in-Law showed up with his truck and we amazingly got a whole load moved over to the house before Andrew got out of work!  Grateful.

The next day, we continued packing.  Andrew's family once again came over, along with our good friend, Wes.  With two trucks, a minivan, and my PT Cruiser, we were able to get everything to the new house in about two trips.  We realized early in the day that this process was going a lot faster than we had planned.  Without electricity and water, we realized we needed to get to the utility office before they closed at 1pm.

The Wretched Wrench

So, immediately following the first load, we planned on heading over the the utility office while the rest of the crew unloaded.  However, on the way to the house we heard a little noise and the check tire light came on...then pulling into the neighborhood, we heard the ever familiar, "thump, thump, thump."  Pulling up to the house, we saw the look on Andrew's dad's face we knew it was worse than we thought.  The left rear tire was completely imbedded with a small wrench.  Great.

We took the minivan to the utility office.  Electricity, check.  Water...not for three days!  We got home to the spare tire being put onto the car.  Grateful.

Somewhere amidst getting the second load packed up, Andrew's dad had our tire replaced.  Grateful.

The condo we were living in was privately owned by a man and his wife who were believers and fantastic landlords.  It was partially furnished and included a lot of amenities.  In communicating to them our plans to move, they offered for us to keep the couch (which our cat had adopted as her scratching post) and the coffee table.  Our roommate had also given us one of her two T.V.'s and a TV stand that she wasn't going to be able to use in her new place.  Grateful.

Another thing we didn't have for the new place was a dining room table.  I told Andrew's mom that I thought we would go to goodwill and see if we could find a small card table.  After all, it's just the two of us.  A few hours after we were left to our own devices, we had run out to get some subway for dinner.  Moments after we returned the in-laws showed up with a gorgeous wooden table with two chairs!  Grateful.

Table for Two

Now, here we are in our new house and I'm working really hard to get unpacked.  I'm of that mindset where if my surroundings are in disarray, I have a hard time relaxing.  I need a place of tranquility in order to be at peace in my mind.  In speaking with a lot of other women, I'm not alone.  Andrew, on the other hand, can decide he needs a day of rest where he can just lie on the couch, read, watch movies, and relax and he'll do it even if there's a load of clean laundry on the couch that has yet to be folded and dishes in the sink.  We are complete opposites in that area.  The chaos of our house drives me nuts and I'll work my heart out until it gets put away.  Andrew isn't going to worry about it, figuring it will get done eventually.

My friend, Jenny, is a professional organizer ("like" her facebook page, Creative Organizing Solutions!).  Understanding my disdain for the mess, offered to come over to help.  Just to be friendly.  We unpacked out entire house in less than 8 hours!  Grateful.

In all the bustle of trying to get settled in, I realize that we don't have a vacuum and the carpet badly needed it.  So, I asked Andrew's mom if we could borrow hers for a day, thinking I'd find a used one on craigslist soon.  So, when we met up so that I could get the vacuum, out came a box instead.  With a brand new vacuum in it.  I don't think I was ever more excited to vacuum in my life.  Grateful.

Just when we didn't think we could be even more blessed, Andrew went researching lawnmowers, another thing we never had because we've never had a yard until now.  He asked a friend of his if he knew of anything.  His friend informed him that he was sending a guy to cut our lawn.  For a month.  Grateful.

So, now I sit here in our "new" home.  My dessert seems a little less deserted, my heart feels a lot more calm, and I'm back to the normal every day maintenance of my home, my marriage, and my life.  Am I swimming in a sea of fullness and satisfaction?  Let's just say that I can see the sun rising over the sandy horizon.

And I'm grateful.

The Job Shuffle

I look around at people's lives around me and I really shouldn't because I see people settled down, buying houses, decorating, going to the same job day after day, month after month.  They are a variety of people who, combined, have the kind of life I want.  It's like the Proverbs 31 woman--all ideal characteristics of a woman, wife, and mother, but that's just it--she's idealistic.  She can't possibly be one woman.  She's a combination of attributes of Godly women.  Here I sit in an apartment that is not going to be mine in a couple of months with a job that, Lord willing, also will not be mine after long.  I seem to be experiencing constant dissatisfaction as I live a life centered on words like:

"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 Christ who strengthens me." Philippians 4:11-13

Of that passage, I think in a lot of ways verse thirteen has become a Christian catch phrase.  It has even been demoted to being a cliche in a lot of instances, which I find quite sad because the words previous get overlooked.  In my experience Christ has too often become an elixir to promote power despite our humanness.  A quick fix.  Rather than seeing the hardship of being without or the willpower of being good stewards of our blessed abundance, so often all we see in that passage is, "I can do all things," and "Strengthens me."

I do this more than I care to admit.  Oh how holy and powerful am I that I have Jesus in my life do "good things."  I am neither holy nor powerful.  In the "good things" that I do, I am daily humbled.  Lately, the only reason I time to do good things is because I'm working a job that I hate where I get scheduled as few as thirteen hours each week.  I am supposed to earn my hours based on how well I do the job.  With several positive reviews sent in by clients as well as a company auditor praising my good work, I still only earned a whopping fourteen hours for this next week.

When I first heard that the hours scheduled were based on work effort, I thought they were talking about choice of shift.  I learned the hard way it was whether or not I even got a shift, much less a shift that lasted more than three hours.  So I thought, well, if I just work harder.  If I make my effort known.  If I just lean on Jesus to strengthen me, then surely I will be rewarded.  The harder I work, the better I get at my job, the more positive feedback my management gets from those I serve, the less hours I've been getting.  So, obviously, this single verse is not a formula for a quick fix during life's hard times or winning a sports game.  My attention has been shifted from, "I can do all things..." to "I know how to be brought low...in any and every circumstance...facing hunger...and need."

It is not my work, my effort, my ability which has been strengthened by Christ.  It is my fortress, my rock, my protection.  In my lowness, Christ has risen me up by putting around me a community of believers who see Christ's Spirit in me and run to protect and encourage me.  In circumstances where my finances are scarce and my resources have run dry, God has not only provided me with a husband who takes lead in carrying the burden but also circumstances which has freed us from need.  My strength has come through reason to have faith that God is good.  The things I do are an expression of my gratitude to my Savior, whom I want to share with the world.  They are a sacrifice of self rather than a promotion of ability.

Andrew, my husband, and I are in the final days of waiting to see if we are accepted into ministry positions through New Tribes Mission.  The jobs we would be doing through this organization are, for both of us, what we feel God is calling us to do for His Kingdom.  All we want to do is to serve Him but in the meantime, our current work situations are less than ideal.  After leaving a ministry position myself, this past August, I've become miserable in the secular work force.  Now on my second job, which I described a bit earlier, I am feeling desperate to get back into a Christian work environment.

Andrew has been struggling on the work-front since before we even began seeing one-another.  Going from bad mechanic job to bad mechanic job.  He's even tried to find other work--any work--to supplement his mechanics job so that he could take some of the pressure off of me before we got married.  It seems like here a job, there a job, or just-a-little-job job, God has provided us with just enough for what we've needed at whatever given moment.

Neither of us happy in our jobs, nor confident from week to week that what we are bringing in is going to be enough after our tithe to the church, we are both constantly on the lookout for something else while desperately guarding our savings account.  The blessing amidst this constant job shuffle is that we have the hope of our Lord Jesus Christ and the shoulder of one-another to lean on when we are exhausted from the shuffle and weary of waiting for God's plan for our life and ministry together to unfold.

The Art of Being Lazy

A couple of weeks ago I was in bed with some sort of unknown illness.  All I could do was lay there and feel helpless.  Though some may revel in the opportunity to just lay around and rest (my husband being of that kind), this is not the ideal situation for a doer as myself.  Andrew resorted to removing any distractions from the bedroom (anything that might tempt me out of bed to clean, sort, or organize) and strongly advising that I stay in bed except to get something to eat or drink.  The more effort I put forth, the  more I was set back from recovery, so I finally relented.  This did not fair well for my attitude, however.

The more I lay in bed and did nothing, feeling horrible, the more frustrated I became and the worse my attitude.  I became rather grouchy and, to be honest, kind of mean.  I found myself apologizing a lot.

Finally, as I began to feel better, I realized that though I spent a lot of time on Facebook, joining Pinterest and filling up bulletin boards, and sleeping, the one thing I didn't do was seek out my Creator, my Savior, my Healer, The Great Physician.  I wanted so badly to get well and yet Christ was not on my mind.  Once or twice I may have thought to go to Him but was easily distracted and the thought quickly vanished.

I went to the doctor and after a battery of questions, tests, and lab-work, the cause of my illness went undetected and I was given vague instructions.  The next day, feeling well enough to go to Church, I sat in the lobby afterward waiting for Andrew, who was serving for an event following the service, and came down on my knees in repentance.  I realized that my lack of Christ as my hope in my illness had some ugly repercussions--my attitude, my relationship with my husband, and my ability to get well.  Two days later, still improving, I wrote this in my journal:

"Lord, not two days ago did I fall at your feet and repent for not seeking You when I was ill and yet I am just now coming back to You!  I am so very tired as I'm still healing and yet have been keeping myself so busy.  I look back at my time in bed and am thinking of how many chores I need to do to make up for the lost time rather than reveling in the chance to just rest.

As a result of all of this, I sit here feeling spent and am reminded, yet again, of Mary and Martha.  Mary is forever on her knees before the feet of Christ (Luke 10:39; John 11:32, 12:3) whether she was strong in faith or not.  I feel more like that which describes Martha in Luke 10:41, "Anxious and troubled about many things (NLT)" even when forced to rest; forced to let go of my many anxieties and troubles; I fail to look at Jesus' feet and remember that there's a better way--a road that will carry me rather than one which is a burden for me to carry.

God, as I face needing to go back to wok and dive into all the tasks which need to be done, I cry out to You to form in my heart and mind the vision of rest.  Andrew has been telling me that there is a difference between what needs to be done right now, what should be done but can wait, and what I need to just completely look away from and forget about--to not worry myself over at all. Help me to distinguish these, Father!  Help me to learn the beauty of Jesus' feet."

My hope in sharing this with you is that you would also be encouraged to reflect on Jesus' feet as Mary did; that you would let go of the many things which cause anxiety and trouble in your heart, mind, and spirit and seek the feet of Him who has already taken on those burdens for you on the path to righteousness.  Being free of anxiety and trouble over many things allows me to take my eyes off being free of my own burdens that I might help lighten those of others around me.

Waiting, and Waiting, and Waiting...

Part One

Typical Andrew and Bethany expressions...

I have been a married woman for officially six days.  I write this as we drive back from our honeymoon.  So far, married life has been one I’ve easily settled into.  I’m not sure I’ve come to fully absorb it’s reality, however, and won’t be too naive to suggest that I’ve got this whole marriage thing figured out.  In all honesty, I know that I don’t and trust it will be something both Andrew, my husband, and I will be figuring out for the rest of our lives.  One thing I am sure of is that this is something we’ve both been waiting for through most of our lives.  The weeks which dwindled quickly into the days leading up to our wedding day, I was enlightened to a number of things which I had been waiting for that seemed to suddenly come to fruition.  Most of them have to do practically with our wedding and marriage, and though others seem relatively unrelated, I think God worked it all into one big plan for me to see how big of a God I serve.

Soon after our engagement, Andrew and I were faced with the reality that we didn’t really have much money, if any, to spare for wedding expenses.  We’ve both been working really hard for minimal pay.  We’d both been, and still are, in the midst of career transitions and money was tight; even in our day to day living.  Extenuating circumstances with my parents meant that, unless we waiting an additional 4-6 months to be married, we would be on our own for our December 30th wedding.  We prayed individually, together, and with those we trusted and we discussed logistics for setting a date throughout the first month of our four month engagement.  December 30th was the day to which we were fairly certain God was leading.  We set that date with great faith, not knowing how we were going to pay for our wedding.  Knowing we had enough money for a marriage license, we talked many times about running to the courthouse--which I learned from many married couples is a common discussion amongst engaged couples.

We stepped out in faith and our Father met us there...wherever “there” was for any given situation or need.  God’s provision for our wedding reminded me of the wedding at Cana as told in John 2:1-12; ironically and unknowingly chosen by my parents for the theme verse for the wedding cake which they designed for us.  It seemed there were times that we pleaded for His provision, waited, then pleaded again.  He met us in every possible way for our needs (not necessarily all of our wants, but many of our wants and all of our needs). Many times this happened at the last minute and in a way which we least expected, just as the master of the wedding feast at Cana wasn’t expecting the lack of wine to be remedied by a miracle performed by the Son of God and Savior of the World.

While we didn’t have wine at our wedding, there were many things we had that we can only attribute to God working through other’s for us and for His glory.  For an abbreviated list, consider this:

• The church gave us a discount, moreover having the reception there, the cost of our wedding location was very minimal.  Still, it was several hundred dollars which we didn’t have.  Through some very generous gifts, however, the cost was covered, still having money left over for our marriage license and for Andrew (an auto-mechanic who enjoys roughhousing with his middle school boys small group; enough said) to get very badly needed glasses.  
• Guests, and especially the bridal party, were generous in their contributions for our potluck reception.  
• The ceremony music was arranged and performed live at no cost by members of our wedding party.  
• The photography, lights, sound, set up, tear-down, and even on site coordination of the entire day was done voluntarily by dear friends from the church and middle school students from the church’s youth ministry.  
• The minister, the pastor of the middle school ministry where Andrew and I met as volunteer leaders, officiated free of charge (he became licensed through the church to officiate weddings because we asked him to officiate ours).  

Most importantly, the name of Jesus and the Truth of the Gospel were clearly proclaimed by word and deed.  It was really a picture of people coming together as in the first church did as depicted in Acts 2:42-47.  There were so many small things which came together that would make this blog entry far too lengthy, if it isn’t already.

A few days before the wedding day itself, the inevitable question, “Where will you take your honeymoon?” began to arise consistently.  The answer to this question was difficult.  We knew what we had hoped to do but we had faced the reality that we may be spending our wedding night in the small condo which we were sharing with our friend, Sarah--furthest thing from ideal!  While we would have made it work and made it wonderful, it was definitely not our ideal picture.

Just a few of those that helped make
our dream wedding become a reality

The day before our wedding, we received a highly unexpected gift.  A very good friend of Andrew’s (one of the groomsmen) and his wife set us up with a beautiful hotel room in downtown Orlando on the night of our wedding, along with four nights on the beach on Jekyll Island, Georgia.  A final night was a gift from Andrew’s parents, using travel points, at a Hampton on the island.  Our dream of honeymooning on the ocean became a glorious reality.  I couldn’t have imagined of a better way to bring in 2012; with a husband on an island on the ocean.  Besides that, the gifts from our wedding guests totaled to several hundred dollars in cash, which allowed us to enjoy our time together without worrying about spending too much on meals.

Throughout our wedding planning, though I fell into times of great stress and anxiety over our finances and the costs of just about everything, I tried to rest my faith in Matthew 6.  The chapter became very real to me over this time.  The couple who gave us the honeymoon did so with tact and grace, portraying Jesus’ command in verses 1-4; “...when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret...”  

I’m not sure I’ve experienced such a blatant answer to prayer as I have through this experience of getting married on pennies.  I’ve seen Matthew 6:19-24 with so much more clarity in what God has done through mine and Andrew’s marriage.  So many times I felt as if money and jobs were dictating our identity and our lives.  How many times had I cried out to God to free me from that place and I’ve experienced significant freedom in the generosity of my fellow believers.  Just a couple weeks ago Andrew and I looked at our bank accounts and wondered how we’d get through the next week, wedding aside.  Now, as we look at joining our accounts, we can breath again.

Part Two

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, it hasn’t just been the wedding that has shown me God’s enduring presence in my life.  Cherishing my self-image; that is my inner and outer beauty; has been a plea of mine to God for as long as I can remember.  This is another place in my life where God has done significant work over the past few months.

Without realizing it, my desire to leave my life of singleness has had a significant influence on my self-image.  For twenty-eight years I prayed that God would bring me my “Prince Charming,” my rescuer, my “soul-mate.”  The question, “Am I worthy?”  has constantly been a doubt in my mind.  For many years I was okay discovering my independence, pouring over Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 7:25-40.  “Can I do it on my own?  Can I find fulfillment in God alone?”  In theory, I can do it on my own and have found fulfillment in God alone as much as a broken individual can hope for but I long felt the calling for marriage.  Getting into my late twenties, one might say that fear of being single forever began to tap me on the shoulder.

Well, “prince,” would be a great way to describe Andrew, and he’s definitely been a model of a “rescuer” in my life.  However, he’s not “The Prince,” or “The Rescuer.”  I’ve come to understand that only Jesus Christ can fulfill those roles.  I’ve come to rescind the western societal view of “soul-mate,” either.  However, in a right Biblical role of a man and woman in love (see Ephesians 5:22-33), Andrew is my Prince and my Rescuer; he’s an example for me of how Christ love’s the Church.  Being married to him has brought this image into a whole new light and understanding for me.  That will be a topic for discussion in another post--maybe after I’ve been married longer than a few days!  What I’d like to emphasize, here, now, is that being with Andrew, and now being married to Andrew, has been a big part in my journey toward recognizing my self-worth; the worth with which God created me and furthermore, the worth of my whole life’s meaning.  This is not just to be a wife and a help-mate but an heiress in the Kingdom of God (Romans 8:12-17), a princess (without the lace and gold); not just the bride of a man but the bride of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

As for the outward side of my self-image, it’s still a bit of a struggle and a mystery to me.  Andrew calls me “pretty” daily and often adds in “beautiful,” and “gorgeous.”  Since I was very young (I’m not certain, but possibly as young as seven years old) I have had an aversion to my skin.  It began with my arms.  I noticed little bumps on my elbows and  knees but what really bothered me was that they were also on the backs of my upper arms.  I hated them and began to pick at them.  Then, when I became older and began puberty, I began to pick at the acne on my face, my neck, and my back.  I’ll save you the psychological map I’ve partially unearthed concerning this issue.  The important aspect of this problem is that these bumps; these imperfections; made me feel ugly.  I mean really ugly.  The problem is that I pick them away and they just come back.  And they come back worse.  Furthermore, the more I pick, the more I want to pick and the greater chance I develop long-term repercussions called scars.  

My struggle with my outward beauty is more than skin deep and has become a vicious cycle.  Once Andrew proposed marriage to me, I became more comfortable disclosing such information with him.  I had decided several times over the past couple years that I wanted to stop picking my skin but proved a failure.  I would come back with more vengeance than before.  With my permission, Andrew offered to hold me accountable--asking me daily, at first, how I was doing with not picking.  He began to be more intentional about telling me how pretty I am and began researching adult acne for me (maybe it’s having been home-schooled but Andrew proves to be a whiz at internet research).  I was very adamant about natural skin care and Andrew found a treatment using fresh lemons that, after a few trials and refinements, works beautifully.  I also began to research and have refined a facial mask using just honey and baking soda.  These combinations draw out the impurities, open up my pores, heal blemishes and diminish the left over red spots.   

Having someone who loves me ask me consistently how I’m doing with my resolution and showing true concern when I don’t follow through, has been a significant blessing from God.  In addition to being held accountable to not pick, I’ve had a companion to help me find a natural way that really works to get rid of acne I’ve had for fourteen years.  It could have been someone else that helped me through this but I’m glad it was my husband.  It drew us together with an intimacy appropriate for that stage in our relationship which now affects us as we draw even closer as man and wife.  For, if a wife is insecure about her self-image; physically or inwardly; then she cannot be fully secure in her relationship with her husband.

I have waited for so long and for much of that waiting, so impatiently.  Patience, or long-suffering, is not something I’ve been very gifted in.  My mother often jokes about the fact that since it only took one hour of labor for me to be born, she hasn’t been surprised that I’m not more patient about other things in life.  In all of this waiting--for a husband, for clear skin, for a breakthrough in my skin picking addiction, and for financial provision for my life and marriage--I’ve been blown away by how God has come through on every little detail.  The desert seemed so vast and so dry and so unbearable while I was in the waiting period for all of these things and now I’m swimming in a sea of God’s grace and mercy.  He’s given me groves of nourishment, fields of blessings, and showers of love.

Dandelions and Treasures

The other night I dreamed that I was showing some kids from church how to pull weeds.  A girl yanked on a dandelion and, as is usually the case, the flower and stem cam off but the roots stayed in the ground.  I showed them how the root needed to be dug out with a spade.  Sure enough a long root came up from the earth.  I looked down into the hole that was left behind a saw more dandelion--an unbloomed bud resting in the earth.  I dug more, and more dandelion root came loose.

Now, as I peered into my hole, which at this point was quite deep, there seemed to be the lip of some sort of pot.  I dug and pulled until the item became loosed from the earth.  Out came a vase of obvious age and quality.  It was intricately made of clay, glazed and fired with expertise.  The top had been cracked and broken but it was a clean break.  I didn't have to dig much further to find the missing piece.  It was truly a gem.

I looked once again into the hole and, lo!, a second vase, similar to the first, loosed from the ground which had so tightly held that dandelion root with ease.  The pair were truly a find.  I seemed all the turmoil of digging up the stubborn dandelion roots had reaped a joyous end.


Why I had this dream, I'm not sure, but it has most definitely brought me some peace and joy in my life.  It seems that God may be teaching me something about life's trials.  The Struggle has worth; a value that may not be realized in the process.  Taking the time, the perseverance, the effort to dig out the root of a problem which, on the surface seems relatively harmless--if not a bit attractive--could unearth surprising and unexpected blessings.  These blessings may seem largely unrelated to the trial but are, regardless, gifts from God.