a poem for my sweet husband on our ninth wedding anniversary.
Do you remember how in the beginning I took offense to your joke that I should sew? “Not my type.” Famous last words.
Do you remember months of friendship and laughter and Bible study later I changed my mind? Nine years now and I still choose you. I will always choose you.
Do you remember the waddling duck before us as we walked the path ahead of our friends when we got lost in our conversation? I knew you’d be my husband.
Do you remember when we walked for the first time our favorite trail on a warm February day and you held my hand in your own?
Do you remember how I forgot the people in the pews and wiped my lipstick off your lips on the alter when I became your bride?
Do you remember how many bobby pins you patiently took from my hair before we could become one?…
Sitting behind the clothes in the back of a pitch black closet, I could still hear him banging on the door. He screamed my name out in a warning. I wondered if maybe I could climb out the window onto the roof before he broke through, but I was paralyzed by fear. I prayed to a God I didn’t know yet, begging him to protect me, pleading with him for a way out of this.
Moments before, a fight in the living room had escalated quickly as they often did. I laid on the cold hardwood as his fist hit the floor next to me. A fist that was meant for me. In a moment of adrenaline, I kicked him, freeing myself. Running, I turned the corner toward the stairs and saw my boyfriend’s 2-year-old son screaming out in terror. It broke me. Just as quickly as my heart broke, I felt hands grasping at my ankles trying to pull me down the wooden steps until I made it to our bedroom and slammed the door, locking it as quickly as I could.…
It seems the theme of my life as of late is “wait.” Wait for answers, for healing, for change, for restoration, for desires and dreams. Wait. Slow down. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Waiting comes in many sizes, shapes, and circumstances. Two people may be waiting for the exact same thing and yet the circumstances and complexities of their lives make for two remarkably different stories of longing. Sometimes God withholds, placing you in a season of waiting as you wrestle to understand why. Other times, we place ourselves there in order to walk in wisdom.
Regardless, waiting can be hard. It makes the heart yearn and long more with each passing day, month, year. Parents might long for their wayward child to turn to the Lord. A wife might yearn for an end to her husband’s suffering. There are women who deeply hope to carry life in their wombs. Others thought they’d have their second baby by now.…
You know what’s interesting? The two most wise women in my life are the most impartial women I know. They seek out the outsiders. They look to meet the needs of all who surround them, not just those closest to them.
It’s almost as if James was on to something when he included “impartiality” in his description of true, godly wisdom.
“But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.” James 3:17
When I think about it, truly to be impartial is to be peaceable, pure, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy, and sincere. It’s to pursue peace with all, love others with a pure motive, be gentle in our handling of other people, remain open to hearing perspectives that differ from our own, show mercy to those many may avoid, and love others out of sincerity. …
What makes a good friend? Harry Nilsson liked his best friend so much he wrote a song about him.
“People let me tell you ’bout him he’s so much fun.”
Fun. Is that the mark of a good and godly friend? There’s a new trend on Pinterest among today’s youth. Perfectly posed pictures of “friends” laughing and seemingly having a fantastic time are pinned to the walls of countless teen girls. These photos teach them to believe the main mark of a good friend is how fun they are. Friendship envy has always been a problem among women but I think these pictures create an even deeper desire to have the “perfect” friendship. Adult women aren’t immune to the deception either. Many times, pictures of this sort cause us to focus on the surface qualities of a friend. Do they make us laugh? Do they dress well? Do we have the same interests?…
“Well actually, we’re waiting until our wedding night.”
“Are you serious?!” My coworker looked at me in shock and confusion. I was ready for this sort of response, having spent most of my life living as a woman of the world rather than a woman of the Word. “I know it seems crazy. I used to think it was but then I became a Christian.” “So, you weren’t always a Christian?” I continued the conversation, sharing how I lived a life of utter promiscuity until God saved me.
Ruth or Gomer?
Like my coworker, I previously believed I could never live a life of purity. It’s a bizarre thought to the mind which has yet to be renewed by Christ. Back then, I could have been named among Gomer and the adulterous woman. (Hosea 1:2-3; John 8:3-11) I was a slave to sin who lacked the desire for freedom. My body and heart were not places of purity, but rather, tools to get what I wanted; to feel loved—even for just a moment.…
