Ten Years, and Still Going Strong!

Scott and I have a very important anniversary approaching. May 7th will mark ten of the most wonderful years as husband and wife!!! I am so excited!! Obviously, we want to commemorate it in some special way, so I was tossing about some options. I suggested a while back, we get new wedding bands. That idea couldn't have been met with more opposition if I'd tried to rip his finger off with his old band.

Scott wears his ring daily, as he cuts tile, hangs siding, pours concrete, muds drywall, frames out closets, and anything else he does through the course of his day. Outside of two surgeries, my band has never left my finger; through cleaning and cooking, painting and sanding, hours of typing and dog walking, it has remained. Our bands look like they have endured ten years of hard labor.

But I wanted a symbol of our marriage that shined like the sun! I wanted everyone to notice our bands and recognize we were one. I wanted to wear a work of art as unique and beautiful as our relationship. I wanted something new like the newness I feel every day I wake up with him in my life.

Scott? Well, there's a story behind our bands. He shares it proudly and often, while I keep it a precious secret, stored deeply within my heart. As far as he's concerned, to replace our bands would, in some way, replace the story or alter the last ten years, recorded in every scratch and gouge on those simple silver bands. Who can argue with that? So, I didn't.

I did, however, spend a lot of time thinking about the peaks and valleys, trials and victories, successes and failures, smiles and tears, times of clarity and confusion we have experienced over our ten years together. Each moment has passed with this ring on my finger (or on Scott's chain). We have these tiny, uncomplicated journals of silver; records of an enormous, sometimes very complicated life together. We have done it far more ugly than these beat up tokens could ever express! But we have done it together. It's hard to believe all that can be found on something less than an inch in diameter. But there it is.

OK, so maybe a cruise.

Welcome to the New Me!

Has your club or office ever done that "thing" where everyone brings in a baby picture, posts them on a board somewhere, and everyone is supposed to guess who is who? Maybe I'm dating myself. We don't even print pictures anymore; so do we do things like that anymore? Why was that so much fun? What is it about seeing our adult friends as they were when they were children? Why would someone sit next to in-laws for hours combing through old photos of their spouse? What is so fascinating about stealing a glimpse into someone's yesterdays?

My husband and I have been friends for about fourteen years; and while that seems like a pretty long time, we were complete strangers for many, many years before that. We can't always completely grasp who or how the other used to be. Although, I do have a distinct advantage. You see, Scott was a very different creature when we met. He was drinking heavily, struggling in many areas of his life, and burning the candle at both ends emotionally. But he possessed many sweet and wonderful qualities; I knew there was more to the story. He had grown up liking music, loving trucks, and being one hundred percent boy. He was the type of kid who needed someone to help him channel all that energy and attention into wiser and more productive pursuits. In short, he was -- just about -- the same person I met just a few years before we were wed.

And about that. Since we married, I have witnessed Scott becoming what God has destined him to be. And it has been a privilege and a joy! The man I knew, the man who would lose his mind at the slightest bit of traffic, who turned his back on people, and hadn't set foot in a church for more than weddings and funerals is so far from the one I share my life with now. I have been able to see who he was and who God is making him; I have seen that transformation from child to adult.

I suppose, if I hadn't had experienced his transformation for myself, I'd see Scott the way he sees me. He can't believe I was ever capable of any of the things I used to do. He sees me as some kind of "spiritual Level 5, 'cause of all the Bible you know." Sure, Scott has stood by, watching me change little by little as the Holy Spirit works in my life. But to see me as someone who has been in his shoes, who still struggles with some of the same things he struggles? Not a chance. And that's not a bad thing. What he sees is the progress of the Holy Spirit in my life. It's not a complete "Before and After", and I hope it will never be; but he sees today's "new me." And the fact he can't imagine anything else must mean he sees this "new me" often enough that, to him, it must be the normal me. That's progress. That's the Holy Spirit.

Progress encourages us. "If others can do it, so can I." Progress gives us a sense that things are improving and bringing forth good things. Who wants to be part of something stagnant and out of date? Progress gives us opportunity to praise God for His marvelous work. That's why it's important to us to look back momentarily, and celebrate how far we have come, how much we have learned, and all that God continues to do!

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new." ~ 2 Corinthians 5:17

Fearlessness in All Things Big AND Small

://www.youtube.com/watch?v=61YY8emngPU

I just love this video. This is Bentley. Bentley has irrational fears of very common things: shiny floors, cords, reflections, hallways. All the things he might encounter on a typical day. When it comes to his best friend's helicopter, however, Bentley is fearless!

As I watched this video, it reminded me a bit of me. You see, I've done divorce, childhood abuse, car accidents, the rejection of my own children -- just to name a few. The "big" things are easy for me. After all, what am I going to do against cancer? So, I go to my prayer closet and lay it all before my best Friend, Jesus. And it's done with.

The little things, however? Bills that never seem to stop coming; the filthy bathrooms at work; the kind neighbor who, on a regular basis, feels compelled to park across my driveway; pen points that break, leaving half the ink in blobs on the pages of my journal and the other half in the tube I'm forced to throw in the trash. Little things. The crazy things that can set me to panic or cause me to completely lose my cool.

That is until a few short years ago, when all those little things -- "gnats", I call them -- seemed to have declared war on us. Day after day, they came. Maybe, collectively, I could see them as one big thing, and that sparked my surrender; but I finally did, I finally gave all those little things to Jesus. And, today, when those gnats begin to swarm, I stop swatting and start praying. Eventually, I'm just as content and undoubting sitting next to my best Friend as Bentley is with his.

Jesus, the Hero of Little Girls

I want to tell you a story. It's a good story, a happy story because, like most happy stories, there is a little girl and a Hero. Only, this story is more about our Hero, and less and less about the little girl.

Once upon a time, there was a Hero. He did not come from a land far away, or a certain place in time, as most little "h" heroes do. In fact, He created lands far away; He created time. And He created all little girls, even the little girl in our story. When He brought her into the world, He did not give her to a mommy and daddy who lived together and ate dinner together, a mommy and daddy who wanted to have a little girl of their own. The Hero gave the little girl to a mommy and daddy who didn't want a little girl -- or a little boy, for that matter. They weren't bad people. The Hero even loved them -- enough to give them a little girl. But they, like all of us, had choices to make, and they didn't always make good ones. And the little girl was the result of one such choice.

The little girl grew up normally enough, but she always yearned for a family where the mommy would look at the daddy with stars in her eyes, and laugh at his jokes. Where the daddy would treat the mommy like a queen and even spank the little girl if she was mean to the mommy. Where there wasn't always so much tension in their little house. What the little girl did not know, was that the mommy and the daddy had tried to fix the things they'd done wrong with lies and more mistakes. The same way we all have from time to time.

Soon there was a little boy. People would smile and laugh, and call them "a rich man's family." They posed for pictures and went to church and had two cars. Some days the daddy would feel quite lonely and overwhelmed and he would not come home. Some days the mommy would feel quite lonely and overwhelmed when the daddy did not come home. The daddy would leave the mommy, and the mommy would threaten to leave the little girl and her brother. Eventually, they were all quite lonely and overwhelmed. And everyone wanted to leave. Except the Hero -- do you remember Him? He was there all along.

The Hero wanted to help everyone in our story. Anyone who would come to Him, who would ask Him for help. So, the little girl asked, and our Hero did. But the little girl did not think she was a little girl anymore. She was tough and fiercely independent. She thought. As soon as our Hero helped her and she started feeling better, she would push Him away and do it herself. The Hero who loved her would never gain her trust; people she trusted betrayed her.

But the Hero never stopped showing her just how much He loved her. The Hero never stopped reminding her He was there. The Hero knew just how badly the little girl had been hurt inside; He knew she needed Him. He also knew she didn't know that yet. And despite the little girl's rejection and disrespect, He continued patiently, gently calling her. For years. And, one day, she came to Him.

That is why He is the Hero still today. Because He would have waited as long as the little girl lived. Because He treated her as if she'd been there all along. Because He is gentle enough to wrap His arms around a broken little girl and strong enough to build her into a courageous, faithful woman.

The End of The Beginning...