This afternoon, my kids were sleeping and the only sound in the house was the dryer dragging zippers and snaps along its belly walls. I poured the last of my egg nog into a small cup and sat down with my Bible and some scratch paper.
I began praying through the things on my mind: friends having trouble, people in need of healing, etc. My husband passed through, so I prayed for him too. But it only served to remind me of how terrible our date night went last night. It wasn't "terrible" like an exciting movie. It was just full of apathy and disagreement. Not arguing even. Just irritating, stubborn, uncompromising back and forth.
"What do you want to do now?"
"Let's go to the mall and just walk around."
"I don't feel like walking. I'm too full from dinner."
"Well we could just go to the book store and chill."
"I don't really want to go to the mall at all."
"Okay, let's go grab a game and sit at Caribou and play."
"I'm too full to get anything from Caribou. We could go hang out at the office and watch Netflix."
On and on we went, wasting fuel and quickly losing any semblance of the needed "spark" that date nights can throw into the marital relationship.
So in addition to praying for my husband, I asked God to bless our marriage with a fullness. To take away my expectations that are so often the cause of our disputes. To let me truly be a help mate and be excited about it.
I started also to pray for the marriages of people around me. Couple after couple after couple I listed off to God. All of us living "okay" marriages. And I started to wonder what the deal was with that?
When we're first dating, we're excited to see each other-- to spend time together. It doesn't matter what our friends think or if we actually have the time or money to do it, we WILL be with that amazing person. And when we're not with them, we think and talk about them constantly.
If a couple dates long enough before exchanging rings, the relationship begins to have obligation tossed into it. The newness wears off, and you say things to "the guys" like "I'll be late tonight. My girl wants to spend some time with me." And while you may not mind it terribly at that point, there comes a time when the wife's desire to invade "Man Night" is an irritating nuisance.
At this point in my life, my husband and I have 2 nights a week that aren't scheduled with things. They are precious nights that only warrant a few options: 1) have people over/entertain guests, 2) one person can go out while the other stays home with kids, 3) we can both go out on a date, or 4) we can stay home and spend time with the kids together.
Who wants 4 options? When I stood at the alter and said "I do," I don't remember a part in there that said "I promise to make our lives too busy to enjoy each other."
Why do we live like this? When couples date, they mainly have evenings free to be together, right? And aren't some of those nights busy too? What about money? Were there not consequences to our foolish spending on one another back then? Why are we so afraid to spend it on each other now?
I really really want to know these things. If I'm writing a book about marriage, I feel like I need answers to basic things like this. So now it's your turn. What are you "two cents?"
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Joseph's Sacrifice
I'm on the worship team at church-- meaning I play the piano in the church band. Sunday morning, I wanted to review the music so I had an idea of what we would be playing. We had plans to do a new song that morning. So I grabbed my chord sheet, set up a YouTube video of the song, and sat down with my bowl of cereal and my 4-year-old daughter.
The song is called "Joseph's Lullaby," so it goes without saying that it's from the perspective of Jesus' daddy. It has lyrics like:
"Go to sleep my Son
Go and chase Your dreams
This world can wait for one more moment
Go and sleep in peace"
and
"Lord, I ask that He for just this moment
Simply be my child"
and the killer line
"Soon enough You'll save the day
But for now, dear Child of mine
Oh my Jesus, Sleep tight."
My brain inserted my son's name into the "Jesus" slot: "Oh my Jeremiah, sleep tight." I thought about the tremendous sacrifice Joseph had to make. It's something I haven't considered in a long time. When my son was a newborn, I thought (and cried) often about God separating Himself from the eternal bond with His Son. I wouldn't give my son to save anyone-- let alone myriads of people who would only reject him and spit in his sweet face. I do not love anyone enough to give that gift.
Sunday, I thought about Joseph and how he KNEW his precious boy was not his. That He would grow up and "save the world." He would only make it to about the age my husband is now.
Oh, to know with certainty that my child would die. Too many parents experience this news from somber doctors. I am so very blessed to be able to hold my healthy son, oblivious to what his future holds. Not that he's mine anyway. But I like to feel like he is :)
These thoughts filled my mind Sunday morning, and I began to cry. My very concerned daughter worked her way around the table to comfort me, all the while hosting saucer-sized eyes, and asking what was wrong.
She knows who Jesus and God are, but it's all vague. I tried explaining that they're the same, but that Jesus was sent here as a baby. He had to grow up and die. His mommy knew He would need to do this, and I was thinking about how sad that was, even though it was GREAT news for us. It's like explaining physics to a fly. She assured me that she wouldn't die.
It's such an amazing story, riddled with complexities and mystery. I am SO grateful that He came for me. That He was willing to put Mary and Joseph through what He did so that I could know Him. And if it's not enough just to know Him, He's given me freedom and a full life.
I cannot begin to comprehend the amount of work, planning, and sacrifice that went into giving me-- ME-- the ability to have the relationship I do with Him. Wow, You blow me away. Thanks :)
The song is called "Joseph's Lullaby," so it goes without saying that it's from the perspective of Jesus' daddy. It has lyrics like:
"Go to sleep my Son
Go and chase Your dreams
This world can wait for one more moment
Go and sleep in peace"
and
"Lord, I ask that He for just this moment
Simply be my child"
and the killer line
"Soon enough You'll save the day
But for now, dear Child of mine
Oh my Jesus, Sleep tight."
My brain inserted my son's name into the "Jesus" slot: "Oh my Jeremiah, sleep tight." I thought about the tremendous sacrifice Joseph had to make. It's something I haven't considered in a long time. When my son was a newborn, I thought (and cried) often about God separating Himself from the eternal bond with His Son. I wouldn't give my son to save anyone-- let alone myriads of people who would only reject him and spit in his sweet face. I do not love anyone enough to give that gift.
Sunday, I thought about Joseph and how he KNEW his precious boy was not his. That He would grow up and "save the world." He would only make it to about the age my husband is now.
Oh, to know with certainty that my child would die. Too many parents experience this news from somber doctors. I am so very blessed to be able to hold my healthy son, oblivious to what his future holds. Not that he's mine anyway. But I like to feel like he is :)
These thoughts filled my mind Sunday morning, and I began to cry. My very concerned daughter worked her way around the table to comfort me, all the while hosting saucer-sized eyes, and asking what was wrong.
She knows who Jesus and God are, but it's all vague. I tried explaining that they're the same, but that Jesus was sent here as a baby. He had to grow up and die. His mommy knew He would need to do this, and I was thinking about how sad that was, even though it was GREAT news for us. It's like explaining physics to a fly. She assured me that she wouldn't die.
It's such an amazing story, riddled with complexities and mystery. I am SO grateful that He came for me. That He was willing to put Mary and Joseph through what He did so that I could know Him. And if it's not enough just to know Him, He's given me freedom and a full life.
I cannot begin to comprehend the amount of work, planning, and sacrifice that went into giving me-- ME-- the ability to have the relationship I do with Him. Wow, You blow me away. Thanks :)
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Response
By now most of you know that I'm working through the process of writing a book. It covers infidelity in women: how to avoid it, what to do if you find yourself caught up, etc. I believe there is a void in the market of literary tools in this realm.
About 6 months ago, I put out a call for women to share their stories with me so I could use their experiences to help others. Unfortunately (and surprisingly) I have gotten very little response from people. I have a few theories about that, and I'm not worried. But as long as you're reading this. . . I NEED YOUR STORIES!!! :) I know they're out there. I've talked to enough of you to know that much. But I want them in your words.
Men too. I could really use your insight if you have experienced your wife's infidelity. How did you sort through it? What tips would you give other men or their wives on how to address the issue?
A precious friend of mine sent me her story this past week. It grieved me to hear all the things she has struggled with. I found myself pulling my way through the depth of pain in her past.
I was going to journal out my thoughts so they would be easy to add to the book's content with fresh feelings, but I thought I would "journal" them here in public. Why not share something that could possibly help someone now? And maybe my thoughts won't help anyone now, but it's worth putting it out there.
First, I want to disarm the theory that growing up with strong, male influences will stop a woman from seeking out the affections of another man. This particular friend, for instance has always had a solid, loving relationship with her father. Having only brothers elevated her almost to a position of royalty in her family. All of those men treated her right.
But once she got a glimpse of the power behind sex, she found it impossible to stop. Every relationship was empty and died.
It's that power that drives us. It's control, power, and security even. We like to know we're worth peoples' time and affection. That we could have someone "on the back burner" just in case.
It almost doesn't seem to matter that we're hurting the person we so deeply love. Or that we vowed to stand by his side through everything. The draw of "happiness" is a powerful illusion, masked in the term "love" in its most degradative state. We twist words and excuse our thoughts until we're wrapped so tightly in our own world that we can no longer see any relationship with clarity.
If we could just stay in the arms of our Creator Father and let all those insecurities melt into His infinite love and forgiveness. If we knew we were beautiful, cherished, important-- really knew. Like we know the sun will rise and set, we know the cold of snow and the wet of rain, we know the sound of a broken glass. If we understood our real value, would we still fall? Would we be lured away by empty promises of fulfillment?
This friend ran into an interesting truth while she was readying her story for me, and that is this. Her husband has forgiven her totally. It's a done deal. A closed case. It's not simply swept under the rug, growing and festering with the fertilizer of bitterness. He has forgiven her. It's the closest thing to Christ's forgiveness that she has experienced on earth.
I have another friend who has experienced the opposite. Despite her pleas for forgiveness and her squeaky clean record after her confession to her husband, he could not come to terms with his own fears and mistrust. He installed video cameras to spy on her and followed her to work. He began cheating on her and eventually came home drunk and pulled a gun on her. Needless to say, his lack of forgiveness drove them apart and eventually ended the marriage despite her attempts to secure it.
We have no control over whether someone accepts our apology. The hope is always that we'll get to experience an unimaginable sort of undeserved forgiveness like my first friend. The fear is ending up in a marriage where your efforts of giving and trying are returned with contempt and mistrust.
It may not be marital unfaithfulness you need to seek forgiveness for. Maybe you need to confront someone you've gossiped about. Maybe it's someone you've held a grudge against for years and have developed a tough shell of bitterness toward. Did you lie to someone? Did you say hurtful things in your anger? Whatever it is, ask forgiveness.
Forgiveness is a gift you leave at someone's proverbial doorstep. The apology releases you into their hands. It is up to the other person to accept their gift and free themselves from the burden of unforgiveness. Once the confession and apology have been made, your part is done. It is a difficult point to come to. I understand that. But shame and guilt from unconfessed wrongdoing cannot begin to drain from a heavy heart until light is shed onto the deed.
A wise Man once said "The truth will set you free." Seek it out and free your heart from anything you may be hiding. It may feel safer to hold to it, but the redeeming release of past faults is worth taking a risk to experience.
About 6 months ago, I put out a call for women to share their stories with me so I could use their experiences to help others. Unfortunately (and surprisingly) I have gotten very little response from people. I have a few theories about that, and I'm not worried. But as long as you're reading this. . . I NEED YOUR STORIES!!! :) I know they're out there. I've talked to enough of you to know that much. But I want them in your words.
Men too. I could really use your insight if you have experienced your wife's infidelity. How did you sort through it? What tips would you give other men or their wives on how to address the issue?
A precious friend of mine sent me her story this past week. It grieved me to hear all the things she has struggled with. I found myself pulling my way through the depth of pain in her past.
I was going to journal out my thoughts so they would be easy to add to the book's content with fresh feelings, but I thought I would "journal" them here in public. Why not share something that could possibly help someone now? And maybe my thoughts won't help anyone now, but it's worth putting it out there.
First, I want to disarm the theory that growing up with strong, male influences will stop a woman from seeking out the affections of another man. This particular friend, for instance has always had a solid, loving relationship with her father. Having only brothers elevated her almost to a position of royalty in her family. All of those men treated her right.
But once she got a glimpse of the power behind sex, she found it impossible to stop. Every relationship was empty and died.
It's that power that drives us. It's control, power, and security even. We like to know we're worth peoples' time and affection. That we could have someone "on the back burner" just in case.
It almost doesn't seem to matter that we're hurting the person we so deeply love. Or that we vowed to stand by his side through everything. The draw of "happiness" is a powerful illusion, masked in the term "love" in its most degradative state. We twist words and excuse our thoughts until we're wrapped so tightly in our own world that we can no longer see any relationship with clarity.
If we could just stay in the arms of our Creator Father and let all those insecurities melt into His infinite love and forgiveness. If we knew we were beautiful, cherished, important-- really knew. Like we know the sun will rise and set, we know the cold of snow and the wet of rain, we know the sound of a broken glass. If we understood our real value, would we still fall? Would we be lured away by empty promises of fulfillment?
This friend ran into an interesting truth while she was readying her story for me, and that is this. Her husband has forgiven her totally. It's a done deal. A closed case. It's not simply swept under the rug, growing and festering with the fertilizer of bitterness. He has forgiven her. It's the closest thing to Christ's forgiveness that she has experienced on earth.
I have another friend who has experienced the opposite. Despite her pleas for forgiveness and her squeaky clean record after her confession to her husband, he could not come to terms with his own fears and mistrust. He installed video cameras to spy on her and followed her to work. He began cheating on her and eventually came home drunk and pulled a gun on her. Needless to say, his lack of forgiveness drove them apart and eventually ended the marriage despite her attempts to secure it.
We have no control over whether someone accepts our apology. The hope is always that we'll get to experience an unimaginable sort of undeserved forgiveness like my first friend. The fear is ending up in a marriage where your efforts of giving and trying are returned with contempt and mistrust.
It may not be marital unfaithfulness you need to seek forgiveness for. Maybe you need to confront someone you've gossiped about. Maybe it's someone you've held a grudge against for years and have developed a tough shell of bitterness toward. Did you lie to someone? Did you say hurtful things in your anger? Whatever it is, ask forgiveness.
Forgiveness is a gift you leave at someone's proverbial doorstep. The apology releases you into their hands. It is up to the other person to accept their gift and free themselves from the burden of unforgiveness. Once the confession and apology have been made, your part is done. It is a difficult point to come to. I understand that. But shame and guilt from unconfessed wrongdoing cannot begin to drain from a heavy heart until light is shed onto the deed.
A wise Man once said "The truth will set you free." Seek it out and free your heart from anything you may be hiding. It may feel safer to hold to it, but the redeeming release of past faults is worth taking a risk to experience.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
A comforting, uniting thought for the snowy day
Wisconsin is giving us a blizzard today. I cannot see even a silhouetted trace of the bluff that's across my street. Nor can I see the street. I can make out dirty paths where my memory says the blacktop lays, but that is it. I love the mass chaos of it, and I always like to see God's power leave me powerless.
I've been thinking all day about an excerpt from a book titled "The Shack" by William P. Young. I can't get these thoughts out of my head, and I really like them. So I'm just going to quote the book instead of trying to blog as if they're my own ideas.
"There is something joyful about storms that interrupt routine. Snow or freezing rain suddenly releases you from expectations, performance demands, and the tyranny of appointments and schedules. And unlike illness, it is largely a corporate rather than individual experience. One can almost hear a unified sigh rise from the nearby city and surrounding countryside where Nature has intervened to give respite to the weary humans slogging it out within her purview. All those affected this way are united by a mutual excuse, and the heart is suddenly and unexpectedly a little giddy. There will be no apologies needed for not showing up to some commitment or other. Everyone understand and shares in this singular justification, and the sudden alleviation of the pressure to produce makes the heart merry.
Of course, it is also true that storms interrupt business and, while a few companies make a bit extra, some companies lose money--meaning there are those who find no joy when everything shuts down temporarily. But they can't blame anyone for their loss of production, or for not being able to make it to the office. Even if it's hardly more than a day or two, somehow each person feels like the master of his or her own world, simply because those little droplets of water freeze as they hit the ground.
Even commonplace activities become extraordinary. Routine choices become adventures and are often experienced with a sense of heightened clarity. . ."
I've been thinking all day about an excerpt from a book titled "The Shack" by William P. Young. I can't get these thoughts out of my head, and I really like them. So I'm just going to quote the book instead of trying to blog as if they're my own ideas.
"There is something joyful about storms that interrupt routine. Snow or freezing rain suddenly releases you from expectations, performance demands, and the tyranny of appointments and schedules. And unlike illness, it is largely a corporate rather than individual experience. One can almost hear a unified sigh rise from the nearby city and surrounding countryside where Nature has intervened to give respite to the weary humans slogging it out within her purview. All those affected this way are united by a mutual excuse, and the heart is suddenly and unexpectedly a little giddy. There will be no apologies needed for not showing up to some commitment or other. Everyone understand and shares in this singular justification, and the sudden alleviation of the pressure to produce makes the heart merry.
Of course, it is also true that storms interrupt business and, while a few companies make a bit extra, some companies lose money--meaning there are those who find no joy when everything shuts down temporarily. But they can't blame anyone for their loss of production, or for not being able to make it to the office. Even if it's hardly more than a day or two, somehow each person feels like the master of his or her own world, simply because those little droplets of water freeze as they hit the ground.
Even commonplace activities become extraordinary. Routine choices become adventures and are often experienced with a sense of heightened clarity. . ."
Saturday, December 4, 2010
And then. . .
This story has two pieces.
First of all, you have to know about our "savings" situation. We are not both sacrificial savers, but we're Dave Ramsey fans. So we have our $1,000 Emergency Fund, and we're always working toward that 3-6 month savings account as well.
We are a one-vehicle family, and about 2 weeks ago, that one vehicle died. It was smoking and stinking and doing all the things that dead things like that do. We towed it in to our trusty mechanic who informed us that we needed a complete new engine. A month before Christmas, this was not the news we were hoping to hear.
We debated whether to fork out a little extra and just get a new vehicle altogether or pay up for the engine. We decided that the rest of our van was good for sure (unlike the uncertainty of purchasing a "new" one), so we went with the engine.
When the van was fixed, Rodney called me with a total of $2,800. So I went to our account to see what I could scrounge up. I was hoping to pull it all from our 3-6 month supply with some remaining, but I came up with only $1,800. That plus our emergency fund brought us to the exact amount needed. It was pretty sweet :) I felt very protected and provided for when I saw that God had given us our exact, EXACT amount. So cool!
So with bittersweet hearts, we emptied our savings accounts and drove our now-working vehicle home. No more borrowing other peoples' cars or asking for rides. Our van was home.
The second part of the story stems from a phone call I got last night.
Every Friday night, we have about half a dozen or so teenagers come over to our house. We play video games and watch movies mostly. Around 10 or 10:30, we drive them all home. Last night marked the season's first big snowfall, so the debate last night was whether to drive the "Sparta kids" home or let them spend the night. Rodney decided that he would drive the Holmen kids home first and see how he thought the roads were. He would then decide to either drive to Sparta or just take those boys back home with him.
And of course he forgot his cell phone at home. You can see where this is going.
About 11:45 my phone rings displaying an unidentified phone number. I don't know if you're as cynical as I am, but my first thought was that it was the police with unimaginable news. I was relieved to hear Rodney's healthy voice respond to my apprehensive "Hello?" I knew he was going to tell me he was in a ditch in West Salem, asking me to get someone's vehicle to at least pick them up. But it wasn't even that.
About a half mile after he dropped off the final Holmen teen (coincidentally also the last person with a phone), the van decided it would not brake or turn at a small bend in the road. Rodney, his teens, and our poor van slammed hard against a curb, bending the rim of our tire and breaking the coinciding hubcap. He tried driving it, but it would go no more than a few feet before stopping again.
A Good Samaritan stopped to check on them and lent Rodney his phone. I am grateful to that man.
Rodney informed me that our van was undrivable and suggested I call my brother-in-law Joe. He lives only about a mile from where our van was stuck, and his skills as a life-long mechanic seemed like a valuable asset to have on the site.
I made the call. I then laid in bed wide-eyed, thinking about how we could possibly afford to take care of this. It wasn't a feeling of "fear" so much. It was a freak-ish thing that had happened, God knew it was coming, and He also knew of our financial situation. It was more a matter of waiting to discover how He would "show up."
And as fun as it is to see Him use His creativity to blow my mind, it's usually not with timing that I would consider "convenient." :)
When Joe arrived, he and the Good Samaritan concurred that it could just be our bent rim prohibiting our van's movement. So Rodney went about switching out the crippled wheel with our spare and discovered that our spare is full-sized! With tread! We don't even need to buy a new tire!
We'll still take it in, since it is in obvious need of an alignment (which we had done with the installation of the new engine :( ), but it looks like that is all we will need.
What a sigh of relief.
We are blessed with the ability to continue use of our van. We are blessed to not be forking out another invisible sum of money from somewhere in God's account. And we are BLESSED with family who is willing to sacrifice precious sleep and run to help-- even when they have work in the morning. Thank you so much Joe.
And then. . .
This afternoon, I was sitting inside writing this blog, and Rodney was out clearing the driveway of our new snow. My writing was interrupted when he popped his head in and said something like, "I can't get any luck." I asked what had just happened.
Our snow blower had kicked a piece of our gravel driveway out. Not through the chute, but from under the blower's corkscrew wheel.
And into the rear windshield of our van.
It's still not as much as replacing a cracked drive shaft or any of the other many expensive possibilities the curb incident could have offered. But sometimes, it feels like God is trying to talk. I will tell you that at this point, I am listening :)
First of all, you have to know about our "savings" situation. We are not both sacrificial savers, but we're Dave Ramsey fans. So we have our $1,000 Emergency Fund, and we're always working toward that 3-6 month savings account as well.
We are a one-vehicle family, and about 2 weeks ago, that one vehicle died. It was smoking and stinking and doing all the things that dead things like that do. We towed it in to our trusty mechanic who informed us that we needed a complete new engine. A month before Christmas, this was not the news we were hoping to hear.
We debated whether to fork out a little extra and just get a new vehicle altogether or pay up for the engine. We decided that the rest of our van was good for sure (unlike the uncertainty of purchasing a "new" one), so we went with the engine.
When the van was fixed, Rodney called me with a total of $2,800. So I went to our account to see what I could scrounge up. I was hoping to pull it all from our 3-6 month supply with some remaining, but I came up with only $1,800. That plus our emergency fund brought us to the exact amount needed. It was pretty sweet :) I felt very protected and provided for when I saw that God had given us our exact, EXACT amount. So cool!
So with bittersweet hearts, we emptied our savings accounts and drove our now-working vehicle home. No more borrowing other peoples' cars or asking for rides. Our van was home.
The second part of the story stems from a phone call I got last night.
Every Friday night, we have about half a dozen or so teenagers come over to our house. We play video games and watch movies mostly. Around 10 or 10:30, we drive them all home. Last night marked the season's first big snowfall, so the debate last night was whether to drive the "Sparta kids" home or let them spend the night. Rodney decided that he would drive the Holmen kids home first and see how he thought the roads were. He would then decide to either drive to Sparta or just take those boys back home with him.
And of course he forgot his cell phone at home. You can see where this is going.
About 11:45 my phone rings displaying an unidentified phone number. I don't know if you're as cynical as I am, but my first thought was that it was the police with unimaginable news. I was relieved to hear Rodney's healthy voice respond to my apprehensive "Hello?" I knew he was going to tell me he was in a ditch in West Salem, asking me to get someone's vehicle to at least pick them up. But it wasn't even that.
About a half mile after he dropped off the final Holmen teen (coincidentally also the last person with a phone), the van decided it would not brake or turn at a small bend in the road. Rodney, his teens, and our poor van slammed hard against a curb, bending the rim of our tire and breaking the coinciding hubcap. He tried driving it, but it would go no more than a few feet before stopping again.
A Good Samaritan stopped to check on them and lent Rodney his phone. I am grateful to that man.
Rodney informed me that our van was undrivable and suggested I call my brother-in-law Joe. He lives only about a mile from where our van was stuck, and his skills as a life-long mechanic seemed like a valuable asset to have on the site.
I made the call. I then laid in bed wide-eyed, thinking about how we could possibly afford to take care of this. It wasn't a feeling of "fear" so much. It was a freak-ish thing that had happened, God knew it was coming, and He also knew of our financial situation. It was more a matter of waiting to discover how He would "show up."
And as fun as it is to see Him use His creativity to blow my mind, it's usually not with timing that I would consider "convenient." :)
When Joe arrived, he and the Good Samaritan concurred that it could just be our bent rim prohibiting our van's movement. So Rodney went about switching out the crippled wheel with our spare and discovered that our spare is full-sized! With tread! We don't even need to buy a new tire!
We'll still take it in, since it is in obvious need of an alignment (which we had done with the installation of the new engine :( ), but it looks like that is all we will need.
What a sigh of relief.
We are blessed with the ability to continue use of our van. We are blessed to not be forking out another invisible sum of money from somewhere in God's account. And we are BLESSED with family who is willing to sacrifice precious sleep and run to help-- even when they have work in the morning. Thank you so much Joe.
And then. . .
This afternoon, I was sitting inside writing this blog, and Rodney was out clearing the driveway of our new snow. My writing was interrupted when he popped his head in and said something like, "I can't get any luck." I asked what had just happened.
Our snow blower had kicked a piece of our gravel driveway out. Not through the chute, but from under the blower's corkscrew wheel.
And into the rear windshield of our van.
It's still not as much as replacing a cracked drive shaft or any of the other many expensive possibilities the curb incident could have offered. But sometimes, it feels like God is trying to talk. I will tell you that at this point, I am listening :)
Friday, December 3, 2010
Improving the Christmas Card Task
Christmas cards. They're more expensive than I'd like. They're boring to most people who receive the cards and a real drudgery to the people who loathe Christmas letters. It's an obligatory tradition we put on year after year so no one feels left out.
Despite all this, I really enjoy doing it. I like choosing pictures, crafting a letter, and pulling out my very long list of people I treasure. I also love to give things to people. Not that I'm generous necessarily (I'm working on it), but when the opportunity arises, I embrace it, and it amps me up.
When I'm going through my address list and writing out names on envelopes, it makes my heart happy. I think with special fondness about the people I haven't seen in many years. I know some of them really love me, and I get excited to send them a sliver of my life to catch them up.
It makes me feel loved to think about the people that I know care about me.
Yes, some of the people on my list are obligatory, and that's not as much fun :)
But yesterday, I was going though my routine of folding the letter, laying the card inside, and stuffing the whole lot into an envelope with a special name on it. And it occurred to me that I could help pass my time by praying for the person's name on the next envelope.
And I LOVE it!!!
It's just another tiny piece to add to the gift of a card, pictures, and letter that I get to send people.
I tell you all this for two reasons: First, if you get a card from me, then you KNOW that you've been prayed for at least once :) Second, I want to recommend it. It turns what can be a tedious task into a meaningful and enriching time. So give it a shot. You have nothing else to do during that time. And if you do, then you're too busy :)
It's just a thought, but what do you have to lose?
Despite all this, I really enjoy doing it. I like choosing pictures, crafting a letter, and pulling out my very long list of people I treasure. I also love to give things to people. Not that I'm generous necessarily (I'm working on it), but when the opportunity arises, I embrace it, and it amps me up.
When I'm going through my address list and writing out names on envelopes, it makes my heart happy. I think with special fondness about the people I haven't seen in many years. I know some of them really love me, and I get excited to send them a sliver of my life to catch them up.
It makes me feel loved to think about the people that I know care about me.
Yes, some of the people on my list are obligatory, and that's not as much fun :)
But yesterday, I was going though my routine of folding the letter, laying the card inside, and stuffing the whole lot into an envelope with a special name on it. And it occurred to me that I could help pass my time by praying for the person's name on the next envelope.
And I LOVE it!!!
It's just another tiny piece to add to the gift of a card, pictures, and letter that I get to send people.
I tell you all this for two reasons: First, if you get a card from me, then you KNOW that you've been prayed for at least once :) Second, I want to recommend it. It turns what can be a tedious task into a meaningful and enriching time. So give it a shot. You have nothing else to do during that time. And if you do, then you're too busy :)
It's just a thought, but what do you have to lose?
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