Ruth 4v13-17

Ever After (Part Five)

(Click here to listen to the sixth Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week

“…NO ONE TAKES YOUR JOY AWAY FROM YOU.” John 16v22 NASB

More Words from the Father 

Philippians 1v1-11

Philippians 2

Philippians 3v14-21

From my Heart

Pages from the past: March 1987

Waiting

Waiting…so much of our life is spent waiting.

Such a lot of our time is spent on boring, mundane details.

Yet fulfillment does not come

from excitement, adventure, challenge, importance;

but from doing the will of the Father

with all our heart and soul.

The purpose of my life is not to do something

big and important for God,

but to empty myself,

to be a “clay vessel,” as it were.

To be used and used up by God

in everything I do.

Thus the mundane is of eternal importance,

the boring, an adventure in spiritual enlightenment.

The Creator of the Universe, the Savior of all peoples,

the Comforter of our hearts-working

in and through me!

Magnificent wonder!

Thank You Lord.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

When Does Life Begin?

Dare I answer this question? No, definitely not. Let the scientists, biologists, politicians, and activists argue, blog, chant, and pass their laws. I wouldn’t dare poke my head in their conversations.

But God, the creator of life, does dare.

I’ve listed a few of the Scriptures most frequently referred to which give God’s answer to the question:

1. Psalm 139V13-15 -The Psalmist sings of this life-affirming truth-

“For You created my inmost being

You knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

Your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from You

when I was made in the secret place,

When I was woven together in the depth of the earth,

Your eyes saw my unformed body.

All the days ordained for me

Were written in Your book

Before one of them came to be.”

2. Luke 1v44 -Elizabeth tells Mary of her unborn child’s response to the presence of Jesus-

“As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears,

The baby in my womb leaped for joy.”

3. Jeremiah 1v5 -The prophet Jeremiah recognized God’s appointment before birth-

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you,

Before you were born I set you apart…”

4. Isaiah 49v1 -The prophet Isaiah describes his calling before birth-

“Before I was born the Lord called me…”

The Scriptures make it crystal clear that life begins at conception, blossoms at birth, and bears the image of the Creator throughout all the days of our lives. So we’ll let the talking heads argue all they want while we celebrate God’s affirmation of the worth of every human life.

EPILOGUE

The End

Ruth 4v18-22

Seemingly tacked on to the end of our story is this list of names. Not much of a read, just five short verses – one long sentence. We usually let our eyes just sort of skip this part. Genealogies seem like simply a list of hard to pronounce names, of little interest to our hurried lives.

But wait.

Hold on.

Look closer.

There are ten names brought to our attention. And each of these names represents a real man, with a real wife, and real kids. A family. And in every family lives a story – God’s story-involving love and laughter, dreams and drama. His-Story.

Just as you and I cry out to be known and seen as significant, so these stories of real people call from the pages of our Bibles to be examined and explored. Who were these people? How is it that their lives followed a path that put their families into the back story of the King of Israel? They begot royalty. Somehow they laid a foundation for future greatness.

Let’s take some time this week to turn aside from our usual rush and dig up some of these jewels of wisdom dropped around the treasure of God’s Word. Let’s snoop and explore, reading between the lines and coloring in the lives of these men who God chose to mention in the closing lines of Ruth.

You might just discover your own keys to the Kingdom.

John didn’t want to do it.

This was way beyond his comfort zone, unexpected and unwelcome. He knew his role and this didn’t fit.

For as long as he could remember John had known that God’s calling on his life was to urge his people to make space in their hearts for the coming of the Messiah. To repent from the sins that held them captive and turn to the One who would set them free.

He even had his handy come-back to ward off his many ciritics: God in heaven appoints each man’s work, (John 3:27)  

John knew his job and this surely wasn’t it. This felt all wrong.

Yet Jesus insisted, demanded really.

It must be done, because we must do everything that is right. (Mt 3:15)

Sometimes we find ourselves in a situation that goes against the grain. We don’t want to do it— at all.

That’s when Jesus comes alongside us, saying we.

We must do everything that is right. 

He never wags His finger in our face with ought’s and should’s and shame-on-you’s. Instead He inserts that lovely, welcoming, inclusive pronoun.

We.

He joins Himself with us in that too-hard task. He won’t do it for us but He doesn’t make us do it alone either.

It must be done, He whispers, we must do everything that is right.

If you’re facing one of those everythings today, something you must do just because it’s right, may I remind you that…

Jesus is right there beside you and with you and for you.

Welcome Him, drink deeply of His presence, delight in His nearness… and then go together to do that thing that must be done.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. Can you tell us a story of how He turned that thing you didn’t want to do but knew you must into something good?

Dear Girls,

What to do when you don’t know what to do with difficult differences…

We’ve talked quite a bit about handling conflict for the past few weeks. It told you about our first fight, then about four things I wish I’d known when I married Phil (Tip#1), (Tip#2), (Tip#3), (Tip#4)— things that would have cut down on conflict and made it easier to come to a place of peace.

Today I want to talk about the best way to handle those areas of your personality that don’t fit very well with your husband, or your boyfriend, or your friend-who-might-turn-into-more. I’m not talking about major sins or mistreatment or the kinds of things that must be confronted and dealt with— just those clashing points that come up over and over again.

Differences that make life difficult. 

But first, I think I need to open up our lives just a little more in order to make this so practical that you’ll really know what to do when you don’t know what to do… Here’s reality at our house: Phil and I are polar opposites.

He is a crazy extrovert. Which means that he never tires of being together. Phil’s idea of a good day is all about companionship and talking and me coming along as he does what he needs to do. He wants to experience life together. That’s wonderful, right? Well…. I am a raging introvert. Which means that I crave time alone. My idea of a good day is all about aloneness. Space. Time to think inside myself and not talk, then write about what I’ve been pondering and reading. I crave time alone.

As if that’s enough to polarize the two of us, there’s this: Phil makes decisions by examining and eliminating all the negatives. Because of this he makes really good decisions. But the process is… negative. Every possible problem must be looked at. Every solution rethought to make sure its right. Over and over again. I have a low tolerance for negativity. I want everyone to be happy, happy, happy all the time. All that examining and processing can seem overwhelmingly negative to me.  And since happy all the time is not realistic… we sometimes clash.

So… what to do?  How can Phil and I… and you and whoever it is you are called to love, reconcile all those differences while remaining true and loyal and lovely to each other… and our own selves? And since next Monday I’ll be posting The Solution, for now I just want to unveil the way women deal with these differences by default.

These are our go-to modes of overcoming those differences that cause difficulties in relationships.

Default method #1: Ignore it

This is when I just brush away the irritation and pretend it isn’t there. I look away. Hide. Play nice.

For years and years I tried this. I thought it was the valiant thing to do. After all, I reasoned, Love covers a multitude of sins so I’ll just cover over this and hope it goes away. Only what really happens is we start to stack all those clashing differences into a stone wall. And over time that stone wall becomes impregnable until we take sledge hammers out to knock it down.

And that’s a messy and inevitably hurtful process. Or worse, we stuff and stuff and some small incident blows all that stuffed stuff way out of proportion. And that’s another messy and inevitably hurtful process.

Default method #2: Grin and bear it

This method is an outgrowth of default method #1.  A little more honest, but just as ineffective. This is when I decide, through gritted teeth, to accept him as he is. So when he does something I don’t like I just pretend to be okay with it and blame myself and slather a smile over my face.

It doesn’t work for long. Inevitably my smile slips and shows the frown of disapproval underneath. Or I withdraw into a silent funk, unreachable, unresponsive, cold. What man wants that kind of companionship? Ugh.

Default method #3: Fix it

When ignoring it doesn’t work, and grinning and bearing it leaves us with more of a grimace than a grin, most of us set to work to try to fix it.

I’ve tried this a million times. And even with a humble husband who receives my “suggestions” seriously, this has never once worked. Instead I leave the poor man feeling poked and jostled and generally disliked. For instance, when I want to neaten him up a little. Not for my sake of course… this is most certainly in his own best interest. (please note the hint of sarcasm here!)

So I zip his brief case, mention for the umpteenth time that its not designed to be filled so full, remind him that Steve (our amazingly talented son-in-law) would be appalled at how pushed out of shape the case has become, and try to “help” him tidy it up. Which leaves Phil feeling shamed, disrespected, and uncomfortably dishonored. Not exactly a friendly way to love my man.

Not one of these default methods of dealing with differences honors my husband. Nor do they work in the long haul. Oh, he may try for a while to please you, but eventually that trying wears him out and he goes back to being who he is.

And all three of our defective default methods slip you and me into that contentious woman category so bluntly described in the book of Proverbs. These verses just make me cringe… “It is better to live in a corner of a roof than in a house shared with a contentious woman.”Proverbs 21v9 NASB

Or, as the Amplified Bible drives it home… “It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop than in a house shared with a nagging, quarrelsome, and faultfinding woman.” Proverbs 21v9 Amplified

As if to make sure we get it, the writer of Proverbs repeats his frustration just a few chapters later… “Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife.”Proverbs 25v24 NIV

And then there’s the one we Northwesters fully get… “A quarrelsome wife is as annoying as constant dripping.” Proverbs 19:13 NLT

I refuse to underline those verses in my Bible. And every month when my Bible reading takes me to those chapters… every 19th, every 21st, every 25th, something in me shrinks back at the shear honesty of the description.

Drip…drip…drip…

And when I walk into our upstairs bathroom, there I see it again. Unbeknownst to us, our shower was leaking for a long time, dripping inside the walls. And though its been fixed now, the damage is there. Swollen baseboards, contorted wood, painted over ugliness.

Dear girls, we’ve got to stop the leaking of our frustrations onto our men. We can’t ignore it. Grinning and bearing it will not work. And our manic attempts to fix him only lead to ugliness.

Remember what I said about confession? Maybe you and I just ought to take a little time alone with the Father and talk to Him honestly right now…

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. Can you see yourself here? Do you try to ignore your differences? Are you pretending? Raising a ruckus by determining to fix it? Can you leave a comment that will encourage us all to be honest with ourselves?

P.S.S. The Solution… next Monday

(source)

Ruth 4v13-17

Ever After (Part Four) 

(Click here to listen to the sixth Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week

“…THE EARS OF THE DEAF WILL BE UNSTOPPED.” Isaiah 35v5b NASB

More Words from the Father

Isaiah 35v3-10

1 Thessalonians 4v13-18

Mark 7v31-37

Revelation 21

Isaiah 25v6-7

From my Heart

Someday

Someday all sorrow will be gone.

The hurts and pains and grief that mark our lives will be but a distant memory. Instead, delight will come bursting into our hearts and minds. We’ll giggle and dance and laugh out loud, unable to contain our joy.

Someday all worry will be gone.

The stress, the worries we push to the corners of our minds. The prayers we pray in panic for people we love. The underlying anxiety. Poof! Gone. And in place of all those nasty peace stealers will be trust. Absolute, unerring, unwavering trust in the One who holds the world in His hands.

Someday all fear will be gone.

Fear of the future. Fear of the past. Fear of people. Fear of pain. No longer will fear be the architect of our plans. Instead we’ll dream-and dream big. Walking with the Creator of the Universe, we’ll be so free from the fear that held us back that we’ll expound our ideas and expand on His to the delight of us both. Can’t you just see it? Arms waving, faces alight with the possibilities. We’ll be free!

Someday all anger will be gone.

We’ll never again hear it or sense it or see it in others. And we’ll never again feel it ourselves. No more seething silently. No more exhausting explosions. Grace will blanket everything and everyone. Love will be so palatable then, that we’ll forget what rage feels like. We’ll scratch our heads and wonder what happened back then, before this place.

And someday I’ll be able to hear again.

The tinkling of bells. The fall of raindrops. The whisper of the wind. Birds will sound beautiful. The full-throated croak of a frog will send me, no doubt, into peals of laughter. And a creak of a cricket – crisp and clear over the morning air.

I’ll never, ever again pretend to hear someone. Never watch lips move and wonder what to do – ask again or nod my head and hope for the best? Words and sounds will float to me, enveloping me in their music, enrapturing my whole self.

And I’ll sing. Yes I will! Loud and unabashedly proud, I’ll sing when I’m alone and when I’m surrounded by singers. No worries about missed notes or monotone. My voice will carry over the waves in rich, lovely tones of praise. Maybe I’ll even grab a microphone just so everyone will know it’s me!

Someday. Someday soon.

I know, I know…I know that the now of my life matters. I have work to do. My Master has called me to walk a while here, to keep my eyes off my troubles, fixed firmly on His face.

I know.

But still, someday beckons. I’ll be home then. Reveling in that place He meant for me all along. And I’m going to hear those hoped for words, I know I will. Despite my failures, my gross inadequacies, and my horrendous hypocrisy – I’m going to hear Him say,

“Oh Di, my good and faithful servant…Come…enter into Joy!”

Someday.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

Words

Laqah

“So Boaz took Ruth…”

The Hebrew word laqah is translated brought, acquired, selected, took, or marry. The word itself changes meaning with its context. Here in the context of a wedding ceremony, it takes on the meaning of marriage. Boaz married Ruth. But it means more than that. Boaz selected Ruth. The entire story romances his selection of Ruth as his bride. Of all the women he could have picked, Boaz sought out and selected Ruth.

This is the same word used in Deuteronomy 4v34 to describe God’s choosing of the people of Israel out of all the other nations to be His own people. The concept of being chosen by God reverberates throughout the book of Ruth and spills onto the pages of the entire Bible. Boaz’s selection of Ruth as his wife is a beautiful picture of Jesus’ choosing of us to be His bride.

For reasons we will never fully grasp, God sought us and bought us, and brought us into His protection and love. In a very real sense, God laqah you!

Summer is almost here!

Colorful fruits and veggies are filling the fruit stands.

Pasty white skin and unbrellas are on their way out.

I’m ready for both.

This weeks recipe is about as simple as they come but oh – so – good!

Not to mention quite versitle.

Here are three ways to make it a meal:

Lunch:

Toss with steamed brown lentils for some added protien. Trader Joe’s sells pre-made steamed lentils with sea salt in their refridgerated produce section. We eat them with just about everything.

Dinner:

Serve with salmon made with this smoked paprika rub and some good, hearty bread.

Side:

Serve on the side with veggie burgers, salmon burgers or your favorite BBQ fair.

Happy almost summer!

ENJOY!

Elizabeth

PS: What are some of your favorite summer meals? I’d love to hear what you are looking forward to creating this summer!

SIMPLE SUMMER SALAD WITH BALSAMIC POPPY SEED DRESSING

serves 4-6

INGREDIENTS:

HONEY BALSAMIC DRESSING

1/4 C olive oil

2 T balsamic vinegar

1 T honey

1 T poppy seeds

pinch of salt

SALAD:

1 bag of organic baby spinach (roughly 10 cups)

2 C organic strawberries (roughly 12 medium strawberries) – cut into bite sized pieces

1/4 of a red onion – thinly sliced

1/4 C pistachios or nuts of choice

1/4 C feta or crumbled goat cheese

TO MAKE:

Whisk together all the ingredients for the dressing. I use a jar with a tight fitting lid and give it a good shake too.

Prep salad ingredients in a large bowl.

Drizzle with dressing and toss well.

Depending on how much dressing you like, you may have leftover dressing. If you do, store in an air tight container at room temperature and make it again tomorrow!

Dear Girls,

Over the last week I have watched my mother face the most terrifying time of her life. An acoustic neuroma that sat unchanging in her head for a long time suddenly, unexpectedly began to grow. It started pressing against her brain, causing a whole host of uncomfortable symptoms. Her diagnosis was followed by claustrophobic inducing MRI’s, tests, pokes, needles, I.V.’s in thinning skin, papers to sign, and finally surgery. I flew down the day before and walked with Mom and Dad through the final appointments… And watched Mom’s anxiety grow.

She went inward, somewhere safe to process the potential debilitating effects the surgery could have. Normally talkative and outgoing, I saw her sort of hunker down. And as I watched, I saw Mom turn to Dad more and more in all the confusion and fear.  As the young neurology Resident put her through her paces, she kept her eyes glued on Dad. When we had to get documents signed about what to do if those what if’s happened, she leaned into him and checked the boxes he thought she should. Signing her life into his hands.

I saw trust in action. Sixty years of trust… And girls, that trust humbled me.

Because, you see, years ago when I was getting ready to marry Phil, I distinctly remember telling him I didn’t want to have a marriage like my parents’. I was going to do better. Communicate clearer. I was so sure. In my youthful arrogance I had no respect for what a boost they had given me by creating a healthy home to grow up in. Of course I would do better. I had none of the baggage or hurts to overcome that they’d had. I was running into adulthood with a clean slate thanks to these two who had overcome so much.

Now I look at Mom in her weak place and Dad in his strength and see their marriage in such a different light.  I see that trust. Unblinking trust through a terrible surgery that she didn’t want to have but trusted him when he told her it was the only way.

I saw her come in and out of consciousness throughout days of recovery and reach out her bruised and swollen hands to grab his.

Then smile. And trust.

And I’ve been asking myself why. Why does my independent, feisty mom trust my dad? What is it about these 60 years that has produced this level of life or death trust?

And so finally one morning I asked. First Dad, then Mom. In that up-‘til-then quiet hospital room, my parents couldn’t stop talking. And I could hardly keep up the writing of what they said. These are their words… and a few of my own to fill in their stories.

How To Get To That Place of Trust

Dad’s Four Things

1.  Communication

We tried to learn to carefully communicate our feelings. We’re not perfect, but we try. We had to learn how to do that. It took a long time. 

Dad saw the silent treatment modeled in his home. His father would refuse to speak to his mother for days at a time. No one ever knew why. Mom saw the opposite. Her father was an angry man prone to explosive anger and harsh, critical words. Together they decided to do better.

Mom learned over years and decades to deal with her anger, to soften, to choose not to explode. To apologize when she did. Dad stayed at it, talking when all he wanted was to withdraw. Asking questions in his engineer-logic way in order to figure out what was wrong. Listening through Mom’s emotions to hear her heart.

2.  Consistency

She never complained about the sacrifices she had to make in order to help me get an education. Then when I was in the G.E. training program she had to move to a new state every year— while she was having babies. When I wanted to take that overseas assignment she said, “I’m with you.” Then for many years I traveled to places far away for my work and she supported me. It seemed I was always leaving when the kids were sick. Things often went wrong while I was away.

She never complained.

Dad grew up dirt poor. His dad’s education stopped at the 8^th grade and employment during the Great Depression was inadequate. Because of that, Dad was determined to go to college and climb out of that pit of poverty. Mom put him through college at Oregon State by working hard and living on little. And she never complained.

She had each of her three children in three different states, without family or support. And she never complained.

She packed up her life and followed Dad’s career to Germany when Europe was a hard place to adapt to. And she never complained.

That’s what Dad kept marveling at— her willingness to put herself behind him fully, enabling him to flourish in his career. And never complaining.

3.  Providing

She realizes now why I insisted on planning for our retirement. She feels financially secure. I wanted to do that for her, for us. Earlier she questioned why we had to sacrifice and struggle. Now she trusts me. It was a good decision, but hard at the time.

Mom tells stories of mending her underwear and doing without the luxuries she was accustomed to. Then she points to their beautiful home and all the luxuries that fill her life now and just laughs. She didn’t like it much then but she listened and adjusted and made do.

Dad knew he wanted a financial security his parents had been unable to provide. He worked hard and saved and always lived beneath his income. And he took pride in that. It was his way of loving her well.

4.  Planning

It took a while to figure out, but we worked out our own way of doing life. What helped us a lot was when I delegated our finances and what I was responsible for and what she should handle. That really helped our marriage.

Here’s what I see: My dad respected my mom’s differences and chose to allow her to be fully herself.

She is generous and smart and efficient. She is also independent—not the kind of woman who follows passively. He saw that and worked out a way to give her the freedom to thrive.

Instead of following a formula they figured out the best way for their unique selves.

Mom’s Three Things[1]

1.  No complaining

Women complain too much. I was just doing what I needed to.

This has always been my mom’s mantra: Do Not Whine. Somehow she is able to turn inconveniences into opportunities for adventure. Her can-do attitude is infectious and led our family into some really fun times.

2.  No criticizing each other to others

Some of my friends say critical, mean things about their husbands. That’s not right.

My mom is too honest and too talkative not to let the occasional criticism slip. But she tries not to and so does Dad. They know and believe that those snide comments and girlfriend confidences are not right or healthy or honoring.

3.  No condemning

A man likes to be viewed good.

That’s all she could say. And all she needed to. Girls, listen long to this! Your man longs to be viewed good.

And this:…He got me a root beer float!

Mom hadn’t eaten in eight days. Once she was alert enough to eat, food tasted terrible. The effort of eating was more than she could handle.  So when she asked Dad for a root beer float, he found a way to get her one.

And that’s been the way for both of them. That willingness to go to great lengths to help each other. By getting a root beer float or moving far away in order to help a career.

This is trust built over a lifetime. Two people with all sorts of flaws and failures. Decades of forgiving and trying and giving and believing. Of sticking it out. And now that beautiful place of trust.

What an honor it is for me, their daughter, to watch… and learn… and pass on to my girls.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. What about you? Have you learned to trust your man for specific reasons? Or have you seen this trust in someone else? Might you tell us why? What a wonderful thing it would be for my girls to hear your stories.

(source)

Ruth 4v13-17

Ever After (Part Three)

(Click here to listen to the sixth Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week

“SO LET US KNOW, LET US PRESS ON TO KNOW THE LORD…” Hosea 6v1 NASB

More words from the Father

Hosea 6v1-3

Jeremiah 9v23,24

2 Peter 1v1-8

John 17v3

Colossians 1v9-12

Philippians 3v8-14

Psalm 89v15-18

From my heart

Press On!

“Oh that we might know the Lord! Let us press on to know Him!” Hosea 6v3 (NLT)

Just a few days ago I watched as my daughter, her brown eyes sparkling with joy, brightly echoed her wedding vows to the man who now held her heart in his hands.

“…in joy and in sorrow,

in sickness and in health,

‘til death do us part…

I so promise.”

My own eyes, brimming with unshed tears, locked on to my husband as he administered those vows to our daughter and her soon-to-be husband. Suddenly, it seemed, the decades rolled back and it was this man who stood before me, his bride. That day, he towered above me in his cream colored tux, while I stood on my tippy toes in anticipation of all that I dreamed of.

But did I really know him?

I knew a lot about him. He was tall, lanky, with brilliant blue eyes and wavy hair that mussed out of shape with the slightest breeze. And he had the largest hands I’d ever seen. I loved those hands and I still do; the way his hand swallows mine in a warm grip of assurance. I also knew he was cool. A drummer who could sing, he wore desert boots and aviator shades and drove a souped up 1970 LeMans.

I knew a lot about his personality, of course. I knew he was moody and intense, a man of strong convictions and quick intelligence. I knew he was always in a hurry, rushing at a sometimes frantic pace, embracing every opportunity to do more. I thought I knew he’d be a good dad; after all, he seemed to love to play with children. Of one thing I was certain – I wanted this man. I longed for him, longed to know him, to keep him as my own.

The Bible speaks of a woman “knowing” her husband in an intimate relationship with the same verbiage it uses to describe our knowing God intimately. To know God is to uncover who He is, what He wants, how He loves, what tickles His fancy, what angers Him, what brings tears to His eyes.

When Hosea cried, “Let us press on to know the Lord,” he wasn’t urging us to gather more information about God, so much as to mold our minds and design our lives so as to step into His world and know His heart. Down through the centuries, his words echo as a resounding exhortation to intentionally determine to know God.

But how?

In a woman’s world full of diapers and dishes, deadlines and dual incomes, how can we add something so weighty as knowing God to the mix? Can’t that wait until the kids are grown, the bills are paid, and all these messy relationships are untangled?

Someday, we say, we’ll focus on spiritual things. For now, just attempting to read my Bible a few days a week and go to church a few times a month feels heroic.

Yet now is when we need this knowing of Him. Now, when the relationships are tricky, while the kids are underfoot, and bills hover over our heads. Like compound interest, every little bit you and I tuck away of Him yields an accumulated weight of wisdom which we need for living life.

And it’s not so hard, really. Learning to know God is not so different from learning to know the man you love. In fact, unclouded by selfishness and sin, knowing God may be a whole lot easier. Here are a few ways I’ve found to help me be intentional about pressing on to know Him.

1. Spend time reading, studying, listening to His words in Scripture. Layer upon layer, delving ever deeper to uncover treasures of His heart.

2. Ask questions, lots and lots of questions, while listening to His Word. “What does this mean?” “Why did this happen?” “What does He want from me?” “When?” “How?”

3. Memorize key words of His so they stay with you throughout the daily-ness of life, resounding in your ears until they become part of you and change the way you think.

4. Talk to Him. Bring Him your troubles, both large and small, knowing He genuinely cares about what you care about and He wants you to tell Him.

5. Delight in Him. Become wrapped up in Him; noticing His beauty, His creativity, His kindness, and the wisdom of His ways.

6. Open your heart to His family. Learn to value His people, to like them – even to love them. Being with other members of the Father’s family will teach you much about His heart. You’ll see glimpses of God reflected in His people. You’ll hear stories of how He’s dealt with their difficulties, and you’ll get more and more of an idea of the way He is.

When it comes to a relationship with God, disinterest leads to a slow and certain death. Deliberately focusing your notice on Him, pressing on to know Him, takes effort, intentionality, and determination. And every minute is worth it.

Some day you and I are going to stand at another wedding. We, the bride, will look into the face of our Bridegroom, Jesus, and we’ll cling to His hands and promise to love Him forever and ever.

So for now, my dear sister, let us press on to know the Lord!

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

The Wedding Ceremony in Ancient Israel

Wedding ceremonies in ancient Israel involved two distinctive, yet interwoven, aspects. First of all, of course, was the grand celebration which marked so many aspects of Jewish life. These were a people who had been encouraged by their God to come together often for intentional times of thanksgiving and feasting.

They knew how to party!

For seven days, the couple’s friends and relatives were entertained by the family of the groom. Wine flowed freely while food groaned on the tables. Guests were expected to wear their finest clothing for the dancing and feasting. In the Song of Solomon, we see a picture of a royal wedding with the bride being carried to the event in a sedan chair. She wore embroidered garments and beautiful jewelry. A veil covered her face. The groom, wearing an elaborate headdress, brought his bride to a wedding chamber to consummate the marriage.

There was another, more business-like side to the wedding ceremony in Old Testament times as well. This was a serious contractual agreement between families. The father of the bride was paid a “bride price” in order to compensate for the loss of his daughter. That money was kept in the family and reverted to the wife if her husband died.

Simple vows, stating the commitment of the husband to provide for his wife and to protect her, were symbolically sealed by the man covering his bride with the corner of his garment. The marriage was expected to produce heirs, especially male heirs, in order to carry on the family lineage.

Ruth and Boaz’s wedding seemed to forgo much of the formality of traditional Jewish ceremonies. Friends and family simply gathered around the couple in joyous celebration, giving them the gift of wise words and happy predictions of a blessed future. The legal contracts were sealed as witnesses looked on and the couple were whisked away to begin their life together…

…and to live happily ever after!

(source)

I sit beside my mom in a hospital far from home.

Her recovery from the removal of an acoustic neuroma[1] has been tortuously full of tension and worry— very step haunted by unexpected disappointments.

I’ve cried my contacts into shreds, grieving for her loss of dignity and control. To go from her vibrantly sassy self, into a shell of who she is over the course of just a few days has left those of us who love her dismayed, shocked, exhausted by a roller coaster ride of grief.

With every new shift of nurses and caretakers I start over with my litany of mom. I want them to know her as she is, not as she seems right now in this broken moment.

I describe her artistry as a quilter, her love of her family and loyalty to her friends. How her great grandkids named her, “Great”, because she is great. And because she brings them great presents and delights in who they are.

Great is an appropriate  name for my mom.

Then I tell them how she joked with the neurosurgeons just minutes before wheeling into the operating room. Their startled laughter at this fragile patient teasing them about their sober minded seriousness, my knowledge of her underlying terror at what they were about to do.

And as I help her back to herself, I remember…

Cookies coming out of the oven, timed to perfection right when we came home from school. Sweet rolls on Christmas morning, countless lunches all those years of school, and what amazes me the most: a home cooked dinner every single night. Fast food never once sat on our table, she would have been appalled at the idea.

I remember sitting beside her as she sewed ball gowns for my Barbies, then later my prom dress and eventually matching dresses for my daughters.

And all those hours of talking.

Late at night when I was a self-conscious, socially awkward teenager. The after dinner phone calls when I was lonely for her closeness, and lived far away.  And that early morning frantic call when Matthew was so sick and I was so afraid.

She listened to me for hours… and hours… and hours.

I remember her once saying:  For such a quiet girl, Diane can sure talk!

 Indeed.

And then in those years when it was all I could do to keep my head above water with four kids and a husband traveling all over the world, she’d welcome me back into her home for my annual Mom’s Break. While Phil held down the fort at home, Mom treated me to a retreat aimed to fill me full and send me back refreshed.

I’d sit on the back deck of their beautiful home overlooking the Sierras and just soak in the peace and sunshine. She’d cook and bake and fill her clawfoot tub full for a hot bubble bath. Then she’d turn back the covers on my bed and turn on the electric heating blanket.

All that Love Does, as Bob Goff so adamantly reminds us.

Mom did.  And so now here I am doing a little love back.

Funny how that works.

And maybe we need to remember that when the kids are squabbling and the house is a mess and there’s too much work for one woman to keep up with.

Because I know we drove my mom nuts sometimes. Lots of times. I remember a meltdown or two, that frustration spilling over as we pushed those buttons every kid is born knowing how to push.

But what sticks in my mind in these moments is all the doing she did for us.  And I find myself wanting to do back.

To be tender for all the times she gently talked my fears away.

To rub her back like she rubbed mine.

To tell her she’s beautiful even though she knows it cannot be true. Just like she told me I was beautiful when my mirror told a different story.

 And isn’t there a glowing beauty in skin gently aged by all that doing?

Dear girls, to be a doing kind of mother is to be beautiful in a way that cannot be covered by age or trauma or brokenness.

My mother will always be beautiful. She earned those creases by doing love so much and so often its permanently etched on her face.

And so many of you need to know that now while you’re in those doing years. There is a day of payback. A time when your sons and your daughters will feel the honor of giving back to you a tiny bit of what you gave to them.

My mother would never have believed that when I was a sassy teenager. But it’s true!

There has been a God-given glow about these days of doing for my mom. A sense that He is here and He is pleased and He is guiding me and delighting in what is happening in this hospital room. And maybe laughing a little too as He remembers the grief I gave to mom way back when.

And so here I sit. I wait for her to come back to us. To laugh and tease and sass in that way of hers I love.  To finally know that all that doing she did is coming back to do a little back.

From my heart,

Diane