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
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!
[print_this]
SIMPLE SUMMER SALAD WITH BALSAMIC POPPYSEED 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!
[/print_this]
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!
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
P.S. Thank you for praying for my mom. The notes and emails and texts of love have boosted me when my spirit wavered. We have a long road ahead of us but we've put our hope in the One who loves-- the One who does love.
[1] a benign tumor that was pushing against her brain
Packing List Item #4
Dear Girls,
Yesterday, I wrote to you with a simple strategy for dealing with conflict in a grace-filled way: be slow to blame.
When I decided to stop blaming either one of us for the other’s reaction, life just got nicer. Our relationship went smoother. Slights could be overlooked, not such a big deal.
It was a lesson learned the hard way for me, after too many late-night arguments that just couldn’t be resolved no matter how hard we tried.
Today I have one last simple truth to pass on to you. Another one of those I wish I’d known all those years ago when Phil and I were first married.
Packing List Item #4: Be quick to confess.
When I was growing up my parents taught me to say I’m sorry. It was a way of getting out of trouble more than anything else. As a perpetual people pleaser, that phrase soon became my way of making sure nobody was mad at me. I’m sorry was supposed to make everything okay. And so I managed to I’m sorry myself out of most conflict.
Then I married Phil.
Somehow my I’m sorrys failed to have the same effect on Phil as they’d had on my parents. He didn’t just shrug his shoulders and cluck his tongue in silent disapproval over my immaturity.
Instead my loose words hurt him. My cold withdrawal wounded his heart towards me. It didn’t take long to realize that my failure to walk in the Spirit had the power to actually do harm to my husband.
And that’s when I learned the powerful healing that comes with confession.
The word for confession as it is used in the New Testament means simply, to agree with God. It is to see my sin for what it is— a black, harmful choice I make to do wrong.
Genuine confession begins first of all with a deeply spiritual sense of conviction. Somewhere nagging at my insides starts an insistent voice. It sounds subtly different than that shaming voice we speak to ourselves. These are words that woo us into the truth.
If we will learn to listen, to stop in our tracks and pay attention to that voice rather than slap it away like an irritating insect, we have an opportunity to sync our spirit with the Spirit of God.
And girls, this takes practice. Especially if, like me, you’ve spent years of your life coughing up incessant I’m sorry’s.
In this era of transparency and openness I am surprised at how seldom we actually choke out the word sin when describing our own responses.
We have “issues”. We “struggle”. But sin? That’s usually reserved for the really awful stuff like murder and adultery.
Yet when I roll my eyes and heave a great sigh when Phil does something that irritates me… that is sin.
When I spout off in frustration at yet another mess left for poor-me to clean up, because nobody cares about keeping this house clean but poor-me, and why-oh-why won’t anybody help poor-me… that is sin.
Sin.
Sin against the man I love, and sin against the God who gave His life so that I wouldn’t have to wallow in that kind of soul-sucking muck.
And that is what confession is all about.
It is recognizing that what I did was wrong.
It is refusing to blame others for the way I acted.
It is agreeing with God that I don’t have to react that way anymore because He has broken the chains that once held me hostage.
It is realizing once again that I am free to choose a better way.
If we will learn to lean into that voice of Spirit-inspired conviction, then for one sacred moment we will hear those soul-healing whispers; words that offer relief and rest rather than shame and guilt. Freedom.
God transforms our offering of honest humility into an almost unrecognizable beauty— not because we tried so hard to be good, but because His goodness washes over us when we admit our utter dependence on Him.
James goes so far as to say this, “Confess your sins to each other… and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” James 4v16
Peter knew the same truth: “So humble yourselves under the mighty power of God, and in His good time, He will honor you.” 1 Peter 5v6
Dear girls, I wish I had packed this liberating truth in my suitcase before embarking on this journey of marriage. I think we would have resolved conflicts sooner and had less of them if I’d been slow to blame and quick to confess my own sin.
We’ve learned this one together, Phil and I. And it’s made all the difference in our story.
From my heart,
Diane
P.S. Okay girls, ‘fess up! Is this as hard for you as it is for me? Do you see yourself as the perpetual victim? Have you figured out how to hear those Spirit-words of conviction and felt the freedom He brings with confession?
Your comments are giving me the courage to let you in a little closer by opening up the corners of the real me.
PACKING LIST ITEMS
On our journeys around the globe these past few weeks, I’ve been writing letters home to my girls about things I wish I’d packed and prepared for this life-long journey of marriage. These are four things I wish I’d known right from the beginning that would have better prepared me for this strange and exhilarating task of loving a man for the rest of forever.
#3 - Be slow to blame
Packing List Item #3
Dear Girls,
Once upon a time I married the man of my dreams. This man who swept me off my feet in a grand display of princely romance was everything I ever wanted. I was absolutely sure we would love each other forever and ever, never arguing, never fighting, never enduring a moment of disharmony.
After all, we were Christians. And Christians don’t fight… of course they don’t.
Uh oh!
We fought. And when we did I thought my world had fallen apart. We were bad. Broken. Less-than. Shamed.
Then one sunny day near our one-year anniversary, a godly older couple sat us down for dinner at their house and opened our eyes to reality. After three decades of marriage, Hans and Alice admitted that they still had conflict. Instead of calling those conflicts fights, they labeled them emotional disagreements.
They laughed at the looks on our faces as they told us the truth.
Conflict between a husband and wife, they explained, is inevitable.
After all, the goal of marriage is oneness, and melding two distinctly different people into one heart and mind and purpose is a messy process. Emotional bumps and bruises happen along the way and have to be talked out.
Learning over the years to handle those emotional disagreements with grace and forgiveness is the tricky part. No one does it perfectly. No one gets it right every time. We learn and grow and repent and accept the less-than-perfect reality of who we are.
Over years and years, I’ve learned that all those glitches and arguments and hurt feelings don’t have to be someone’s fault. They just are. We bump into each other by accident.
And I’ve learned that…
Just because my feelings are hurt does not mean he hurt my feelings…
Just because I’m angry does not mean he made me angry…
Just because I don’t feel loved doesn’t mean he is doing a poor job of loving me.
The truth I wish I’d known when I married Phil is this:
The wise woman is slow to blame and quick to cover with grace.
And that’s something I wish I’d known when I married Phil. Such a simple truth that would have made our beginnings so much better.
What every husband wants in marriage is not to be put on a wobbly pedestal, only to be shot off every time he makes a mistake. What he craves is a refuge place where he can be who he is without having to live up to an impossible standard of rightness.
Phil was not my Prince Charming. He wasn’t supposed to be! Trying to heave him onto that platform of perfection was just setting both of us up for failure.
Pack Item #3 away girls...be slow to blame. Knowing it now may make all the difference in the world.
From my heart,
Diane
P.S. Tomorrow I have one last simple truth to pass on to you. My dear girls, I wish I had packed the next liberating truth in my suitcase long before embarking on this journey of marriage. I think we would have resolved our conflicts sooner.
Packing List Item #1 - I can choose how I feel
Packing List Item #2 - Be careful what you say
Ruth 4v13-17
Ever After
(Click here to listen to the sixth Ruth teaching)
Verse of the Week
“…OH, THAT MY PEOPLE WOULD LISTEN TO ME!” Psalm 81v13 NLT
More Words from the Father
Isaiah 35
Luke 15
Matthew 9v35,36
Matthew 11v28,29
From my Heart
Living in Moab
Some of you are living in Moab.
In a time of desperation, emotional thirstiness, or just plain disobedience, you slipped out from under the shadow of His wings, away from His presence, and into a forbidden place.
And you feel like you are dying a slow death.
Like a terminal cancer, guilt and shame are eating away at your soul. You ache inside. Feel emotionally drained. Joy takes too much effort.
What are you going to do?
Will you let the lethargy overwhelm you, keeping you in that place of death? Will you justify and compromise, plastering on a plastic smile, covering the sores with band-aids?
Or, having heard of the favor of the Lord once again, will you, like Naomi, set out from the place where you have been living and take the road that would lead you back to the Kingdom… back Home?
Move out from your boyfriend’s bed…
Turn away from your perpetual self-pity…
Reign in your irresponsible spending…
Soften your sassy tongue…
And embrace the Love of your life. Head down His path, the way He calls the Highway of Holiness.
I can’t promise you it will be easy or that you will feel happy all the way. You have a lot to lose if you choose the Kingdom way of doing things. But you will never, ever be alone there on that path to His heart. You’ll have the Lord Himself orchestrating your way, clearing the path ahead, whispering in your ear. Somewhere in the unseen, there will be that “great cloud of witnesses” cheering you on. Maybe Naomi will be there rooting for you, wishing she could convey the urgency of heading Home.
How do you go back, you wonder? Moab is far way from where you belong. Maybe you’re afraid you’ve gone too far.
My grandfather thought so. Something he’d done long ago while fighting a far-off war so shamed him that he spent the rest of his days bitter and angry, biting at anyone and everyone who got in his way. He wasted his life convinced he was banished forever from the grace and mercy of the Father. When he died, we all sighed a sorrowful sigh of relief at his passing.
What a shame. What a waste.
How about you? Will you follow in Naomi’s footsteps and return to where you belong? Or will you be like Gramps? Forever trapped by your own foolishness?
“Then Naomi heard that the Lord had blessed His people…so…she set out from the place where she had been living, and they took the road that would lead them back to Judah.” Ruth 1v7 (NLT)
From my heart,
Diane
ETC
Seven Sons
“Your daughter-in-law, who loves you and is better to you than seven sons…” Ruth 4v15
The ancient Israelites believed that the perfect family consisted of seven sons. Though daughters were welcomed and lavishly loved, it was through the sons that the family lineage continued. By reminding Naomi that Ruth had been better for her than seven sons, they were saying that she had provided all that an ideal family could offer for Naomi.
The number seven in Jewish culture represented the works of God. It also signified completion or fullness. In 1 Samuel 2:7, we see another blessing involving the hope for seven sons. Hannah, the once barren mother of a young son who would grow up to become the great prophet, Samuel, composes a song of thanksgiving to God for giving her a child. “Even the barren gives birth to seven sons,” she sings. A mother with so many sons could be certain to be provided for in her old age.
Because of Ruth’s love for her, Naomi would not die a childless widow. Instead, she would become the “tribe-mother of a numerous and flourishing family.”
Had Naomi only known from the beginning of her story that God was still fully in control of her situation, perhaps she would not have lamented so fervently about her “emptiness.” In her disappointment with life’s curve balls, Naomi almost overlooked the unlikely source of her ultimate joy - her Moabite daughter-in-law Ruth.
Are you following in Naomi’s footsteps? Could there be something or someone you are overlooking in your disappointment with life’s circumstances? Is there a Ruth in your life, someone full of hesed who just might be “better than seven sons” to you?
Look around this week. Pray for eyes to see and ears to hear what the sovereign Spirit of God may be gently pointing out to you.
Like Naomi, you just might be in for the surprise and delight of your life!
Words
zera
“May you become famous…through the offspring which the Lord shall give…” Ruth 4v11, 12
This word is loaded with symbolism. With some delicacy, our English translators took the Hebrew word meaning “seed” or “semen” and glossed over the organic implications to come up with the very tame word, “offspring.” The people of Bethlehem were not nearly so polite. They were simply celebrating their belief that children are a heritage from the Lord Himself.
God sees the germ of life in what our world so callously considers an empty embryo.
In the story of God’s promise to bless the world through Abraham, He chooses this same word to symbolize abundant, ongoing, productive life:
“In your seed, all the nations shall be blessed, because you have obeyed My voice.” Genesis 22v18
When I was pregnant I knew it all. I vowed I would have children who would eat eat everything, love every fruit and vegetable and snack on raw broccoli and tomatoes.
Then I had children.
And suddenly I didn't know everything anymore.
If you've been following The Kitchen for any length of time you know I am passionate about feeding my kids with real, whole foods... but that does not mean that my kids always love to eat everything.
For Duke's first year of life, I made most of his food from scratch and he would eat just about anything. However, that slowly began to change as he got older and discovered food outside of pureed veggies. He has always been a big eater and it is hard to keep his little belly full. Yet his ferocious appetite combined with a very selective pallet (aka: pickiness) has presented itself with all sorts of challenges in the kitchen and quickly threw some of my "ideals" out the window.
All mama's know that when you have a hungry, cranky child... you will do whatever it takes to feed them. Now!
And you also know that if you try to force a child to eat something they don't like, you will lose. Every time.
Duke's response to something he doesn't like? "Mom, this is NOT delicious."
Enough said.
These past few years have been a challenge for me to find creative ways to feed my children with nutritious meals and snacks they will actually eat and that fuel their growing, active bodies with good stuff.
Often times the "kid friendly" meals and snacks at the grocery store are not so friendly for their little bodies. (This is were reading labels is super important! Get to know the ingredient list of the food you buy!)
With an active 3 1/2 year old and a wanting to walk so badly 1 year old, we are a big fan of snacks at our house.
Call it low blood sugar or just being a boy but Duke eats every two-three hours or so. The "Mom! I'm STARVING!" is usually my cue it's time for another snack.
With my own kids as the inspiration, I'm going to start a little mini series and pop in from time to time with some snack ideas and recipes for both kids and grown ups alike. Some super quick and simple and some you can make in large batches and keep in the freezer.
Today's recipe is one of our favorites and a staple in our freezer. They are similar to LaraBars in their ingredients but we think they taste a whole lot better. Duke thinks they are cookies and I eat them for dessert. Win. Win.
A few words of wisdom to you mama's trying to feed picky eaters:
1. Start small. If you find a smoothie recipe you can hide some spinach in, celebrate! Most children won't love kale salad and raw veggies overnight.
2. Make it fun. Kid's love to learn and the kitchen is a great place to teach. If they are involved in the process of making something, often times they are more likely to want to try what they have created. Don't be afraid to get a little silly and excited about explaining why different foods are good for them. We call them "go" foods and "slow" foods at our house. Go foods fuel your body and give you energy to play and learn. Slow foods slow you down a bit and hard for your body to digest.
3. Don't give up. Don't be discouraged if you make something and your kids don't like it. Have a good laugh (or cry) and try something new tomorrow. Eventually you will find a handful of things they like and you can stick to those and keep it simple for a while. We have the privilege and responsibility to steward our children's bodies emotionally, spiritually and physically until they grow up. I want to give them a good foundation and I know you do too!
ENJOY!
Elizabeth
PS: I'd love to hear about your favorite snacks... kid friendly or not! Are there any favorites you would like a healthier version of? I'd love to hear what works and what doesn't in your house.
Join me on Instagram (@emosser) and tag your food photos with #hespeaksthekitchen or leave a comment if you want to share your favorites!
BETTER THEN LARABAR BALLS
makes 20 balls
INGREDIENTS:
1 C raw almonds
1 C raw cashews
14 pitted medjool dates*
2 T natural peanut butter (optional)
1 T vanilla
1 t sea salt
1/4 C dark chocolate chips or carob chips
*Trader Joe's has a large package of dates for under $5 and Costco has them as well
TO MAKE:
*I suggest using a food processor to make these. A blender does work but can be a bit tricky to blend the dates.
Coarsely chop the dark chocolate chips with a knife or food processor and set aside.
Combine almonds, cashews and sea salt in a food processor and grind until it turns into a course powder. Pour it into a bowl and set aside.
Combine dates, peanut butter and vanilla in a food processor until it becomes a thick paste.
Add the nut mixture to the date mixture and blend until combined. It should be pretty crumbly at this point and that's ok. You will mix it more in a bit.
In a large bowl, combine the date and nut mixture with the chocolate chips and stir well. I suggest using your hands to get it mixed well. (while I was up to my elbows mixing up the dough for this recipe I had one child on the toilet calling for a wiper and one child destroying the indoor plants. Might be a good idea to do this during nap time!)
Once dough is combined, take about a tablespoon at a time and roll into a ball. Depending on how big you make them, you should be able to make 18-20. Store them in the fridge or freezer. I make a big batch like this and we keep them in the freezer. You can always half the recipe if you are making them for the first time or don't know how many will get eaten.
ENJOY!
[print_this]
BETTER THEN LARABAR BALLS
makes 20 balls
INGREDIENTS:
1 C raw almonds
1 C raw cashews
14 pitted medjool dates*
2 T natural peanut butter (optional)
1 T vanilla
1 t sea salt
1/4 C dark chocolate chips or carob chips
*Trader Joe's has a large package of dates for under $5 and Costco has them as well
TO MAKE:
*I suggest using a food processor to make these. A blender does work but can be a bit tricky to blend the dates.
1. Coarsely chop the dark chocolate chips with a knife or food processor and set aside.
2. Combine almonds, cashews and sea salt in a food processor and grind until it turns into a course powder. Pour it into a bowl and set aside.
3. Combine dates, peanut butter and vanilla in a food processor until it becomes a thick paste.
4. Add the nut mixture to the date mixture and blend until combined. It should be pretty crumbly at this point and that's ok. You will mix it more in a bit.
5. In a large bowl, combine the date and nut mixture with the chocolate chips and stir well. I suggest using your hands to get it mixed well. (while I was up to my elbows mixing up the dough for this recipe I had one child on the toilet calling for a wiper and one child destroying the indoor plants. Might be a good idea to do this during nap time!)
6. Once dough is combined, take about a tablespoon at a time and roll into a ball. Depending on how big you make them, you should be able to make 18-20. Store them in the fridge or freezer. I make a big batch like this and we keep them in the freezer. You can always half the recipe if you are making them for the first time or don't know how many will get eaten.
ENJOY!
[/print_this]
Summer is here... And that means Mom's in the Park 2014
WEDNESDAYS starts JUNE 25 ends AUGUST 13
11AM TO 1PM
School is out. The sun will begin shining. And your kids are running around the house looking for fun activities to do.
Come meet at the park to begin building friendships and gain encouragement from mom's with kids ages 0-7.
We are gathering in smaller groups at various parks and then coming together once a month as a larger community.
MOM’S IN THE PARK SCHEDULE 2014
Email: moms@ajesuschurch.org with any questions
June 25 - 11 to 1
Magnolia Park 1810 NW 192nd Ave. Hilllsboro.
Meet under the Shelter
What to bring: snack to share, Bible, kids’ swimsuit, towel, blanket
July 2 – 11 to 1
THPRD H.M. Terpenning Complex 15707 SW Walker Rd. Beaverton.
Meet at the playground is under the blue awnings near the baseball fields
What to bring: lunch, Bible, blanket.
July 9 – 11 to 1
Summerlake Park 11450 SW Winterlake Dr. Tigard
Meet at the playground past the dog park
What to bring: lunch, Bible, blanket
July 16 – 11 to 1
Cook Park 17005 SW 92nd Ave. Tigard
What to bring: lunch, Bible, blanket
July 23 – 11 to 1
Magnolia Park 1810 NW 192nd Ave. Hilllsboro
What to bring: lunch, Bible, blanket, kids’ swimsuit, towel
July 30 – 11 to 1
THPRD H.M. Terpenning Complex 15707 SW Walker Rd. Beaverton
Meet at the playground is under the blue awnings near the baseball fields
What to bring: lunch, Bible, blanket
August 6 – 11 to 1
Summerlake Park 11450 SW Winterlake Dr. Tigard
Meet at the playground past the dog park
What to bring: lunch, Bible, blanket
August 13 – 11 to 1
Cook Park 17005 SW 92nd Ave. Tigard
Meet under Shelter #2 closest to the restrooms and playground
What to bring: snack to share, lunch, Bible, blanket
Questions? Send us an email at moms@ajesuschurch.org
Just a little while ago I boarded the first of several flights to get home.
The airport in Manado, Indonesia is quaint and provincial with a steeply soaring red metal roof. Small propeller planes park haphazardly along a runway lined with a thick forest of coconut trees. Volcanic peeks rise precipitously on either side forcing the plane into a steep right bank to avoid their jungled cliffs. Just the sort of thing you’d expect to see in a movie— lush and intense and strange enough to feel vaguely foreboding.
In the week we’ve been here I’ve fallen in love with this land. It is a place of mystery, romance, poverty, laughter, and pageantry. It is at times frightful and so entirely foreign to the ways I understand—and it is full of the most resilient and delightful people I have ever known.
Just for fun, I thought I’d interview myself… asking the questions I thought you might have as to why in the world we’ve traveled around the world to come to this land.
Why Indonesia?
We came at the invitation of Andrew Palau, an international evangelist who goes to decidedly unglamorous places in order to partner with the Church to bring the message of the Cross to people who need to hear.
Why you?
Our role here was to speak to the pastors and leaders, to build relationships, to get to know who they are and what they need. We came to teach at a conference for pastors— Phil taught two sessions and we taught one together. Because Andrew works thru the church, it just makes sense to bring in a pastor who understands the burdens and unique challenges every pastor faces.
What else?
Phil also spoke at a press conference, a dinner for community leaders, and at three church services. We had dinners and lunches with leaders from all over town. At one luncheon with an influential government official, we were entertained by an internationally acclaimed choir of university students. The a cappella performance was astounding.
What didn’t you like?
The smells. I have this unfortunately over-active nose and Indonesia has a plethora of unfortunately ripe odors. Fish and mold and urine and strange spices mixed with that peculiar smell of a people whose skin is seeped in humidity.
What about the people?
My absolutely favorite thing about these folks is their unending sense of humor. They giggle— a lot. And they tease— a lot. Their lives are full of serious challenges and yet they approach those problems with that gentle delight of a people with very little need to control. I loved that.
Who did you meet?
Tante Allie is a 78 year-old pastor of one of the largest churches on the island of Sulawesi. Her husband founded the church years and years ago and since he passed away last year, she has carried the leadership. Her approach is decidedly motherly, with that calmly assuring way of speaking that makes everything all right.
The tiny woman (she can’t be more than 5 feet tall) is revered by her people, and yet it is her servant’s heart that is so remarkable.
She handed me her paper fan during a particularly sweltering evening service, insisting that I keep it. I will treasure that small gift as a memory of meeting a great woman of God.
What about the food?
We ate rice and fish for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They aren’t afraid to see what they’re eating like we are in America. Squid has all the tentacles still attached. Fish eyes are savored. Pigs are roasted whole with the snout proudly propped open. They were kind enough to shield us from some of their personal favorites, like bat and snake and dog.
What are you craving from home?
A nice fresh, crispy salad. My friend, Echo Zelinksi, posted pictures of her trip to the Portland Farmer’s Market on Instagram and I’ve been salivating ever since.
How about the weather?
Most days were 90 degrees, dripping with sauna-like humidity. The nights cooled down to 85 degrees. But every day at some point the sky filled with fierce storm clouds and dumped buckets of rain on everything, cleaning the air and the streets and the trees to a sparkling beauty.
Do you love to travel?
I think God must have a great sense of humor in sending me to some of these far away places. I’m basically a homebody, content to curl up by my fire, with nary an adventurous bone in my body. Yet in the past 12 months I’ve traveled to Albania and Italy and Haiti and Indonesia.
The only thing that keeps me packing my bags is the people. On these trips I get to know some of the Greats in our world. Men and women who have willingly suffered and purposely denied themselves in order to follow Jesus with abandon. It is printed on their faces— a certain strength and joy that brings compelling beauty.
What do you miss when you’re gone?
My kids! My grandkids!
I miss date night with the whole crew and Scarlet’s cuddles and Jude’s lengthy, impassioned explanations. I miss Sunday’s softly affectionate caresses and Duke and Mo’s wild silliness. As soon as I get home I’m heading over to Tammy’s house for a manicure (I know, I’m spoiled!) and then I’ll meet Elizabeth for a cup of tea and a good long chat. Matt will be the one to pick us up from the airport so he can fill us in on all his doings during these last days of college.
I’m really just a mom who loves being a mom and a grandma with a delightfully wiggly fan club.
Anything else?
Just this— I couldn’t have and wouldn’t have planned this rich story all those years ago when we first started on this adventure of living first and foremost for Jesus. Yet God, in His kindness has dished out more delight than I ever thought possible.
I have a really, really good life.
And the part I don’t like— being deaf? It plays a part too. Because when I go to a poor country like Indonesia or an oppressed place like Haiti, the first thing the women see is a wealthy American with minimal troubles and laughable worries. But as soon as I tell them my story… I become one of them. They get it and they know I do too. I am welcomed into the fraternity of fellow sufferers with a warmth that takes my breath away.
I wish I had known that during those dark days when I was sure my life was headed for bleak aloneness. I wish I had understood this “fellowship of suffering” for those who enter in with Jesus and hold tight to Him in the midst of trouble. It’s actually one of those crazy surprises that has made my life rich.
What next?
Home.
From my heart,
Diane
On our journeys around the globe this week and next, I’m writing letters home to my girls about things I wish I’d packed and prepared for this life-long journey of marriage. These are four things I wish I’d known right from the beginning that would have better prepared me for this strange and exhilarating task of loving a man for the rest of forever.
Dear Girls,
Years and years ago I read a newsletter (this, before the era of blogs) in which Elisabeth Elliot challenged her readers to go one full week without complaining.
I couldn’t do it.
I’ve always considered myself a positive person. I don’t whine, I don’t complain… or so I thought. But I couldn’t manage even one 24-hour period without a negative complaint slipping out of my mouth. I just kept starting over every day until finally giving up.
What struck me is how ridiculous most of my complaints were.
I love rain… yet made complainy fill-in statements about the rain.
I was healthy and rested and well… yet made complainy fill-in statements about being sleepy or achy or something really inconsequential.
I absolutely loved being a mom at home with four great kids… yet made those mom-like complainy statements about how hectic or messy or stressful my life at home was.
Words, I have learned, are powerful definers of how we feel.
And yet we use them so carelessly at times, tossing out complaints just to fill in the space of silence.
What if we took seriously the weight of our words?
What if we decided to choose to guard our mouths and speak only lovely words?
What if we stopped complaining? Permanently?
“Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth
but only such a word as is good for edification,
according to the need of the moment.” Ephesians 4v29
What would happen if we did that?
My dear girls, I think it would make all the difference in the amount of joy we squeeze out of this life God has for us.
I think it would make all the difference in the amount of love we were freed to lavish on our husbands and friends and children.
And so, PACKING LIST ITEM #2 is simple.
Be Careful What You Say.
Because after a while, what you say is what you feel…
and then you become convinced of the untruth that you should never have said in the first place…
and eventually all this saying and believing can really wreck havoc with what you say… and what you feel.
It really is a matter of purposing not to say certain things, of putting a muzzle over our mouths, of choosing every one of our words carefully and wisely.
We have the ability to choose to speak only the Spirit-filtered truth because we are Spirit-filled people and that ought to make a difference in what comes out of our mouths.
I wish I’d known that when I married Phil. I’m trying to learn it now.
From my heart,
Diane
P.S. Are you learning the power of your own words? Have you noticed how hard it is not to complain? Do you know someone who is really great at using words to bring courage instead of carnage?
We’d all love to hear your stories.
On our journeys around the globe this week and next, I’m writing letters home to my girls about things I wish I’d packed and prepared for this life-long journey of marriage. These are four things I wish I’d known right from the beginning that would have better prepared me for this strange and exhilarating task of loving a man for the rest of forever.
For those of you not-yet-married, lean in and listen well. You’ll need to know these truths.
For those of you married many years, remember…
He is the One who lavishes love on you when you don’t deserve it. And He has enough left-over love to give you the grace to start anew and begin loving your man skillfully and well.
PACKING LIST ITEM #1
Dear Girls,
For the past several days Phil and I have been with each other 24/7, crammed into too tight airplanes, sharing suitcase space and water bottles, enduring jet lag and sweltering humidity. Not exactly a formula for romance.
Or is it? Might I frame it this way instead?
For the past several days Phil and I have relished time with each other, flying around the world, eating exotic foods, enjoying sunshine and fascinating cultures and unprecedented beauty. A lovely romantic time in our lives.
Which scenario is true?
This is either a stressful, uncomfortable trip to endure as best we can… or it’s a delightful, intriguing adventure together.
The fact is:
I can choose how I feel.
I get to decide how I feel about the daily realities of life. I am not a slave to my feelings.
When a woman is single... she can choose to delight in this unique time to serve God unencumbered. She can choose to take time to develop and grow and explore who she is as a woman. She can pour herself into relationships with abandon.
Or… she can complain about being lonely and wish she were married and blast all the men who really ought to “step up to the plate” and ask her on a date.
When a woman is pregnant... she can choose to align herself with the Creator of life and relish the miracle her body is making.
Or… she can complain and whimper and groan about all the ways she is experiencing discomfort in the process.
When a woman is married... she can choose to love her husband. She can breathe in the scent of him, run her hands over his muscles, delight in all his maleness.
Or… she can try to take all that testosterone and tame it by wishing he were capable of being her BFF and listening sympathetically and sensitively just like a girl.
Oh how I wish I had known this truth 35 years ago!
I not only enslaved myself to my overly tender, easily hurt feelings, I practically tied my poor husband in knots. The guy could barely go a day without stepping on my toes in that perfectly innocent obliviousness of a man with better things to do than walk on egg shells.
Now I know that…
Marriage can be either a delightful game of discovery together or a continual contest of one will against the other.
It’s my choice.
Do I get on board and join my man, giving all that I am, relishing all that he is, trusting God to meet my needs as I pour myself into meeting his?
Or do I demand that he love me the way I want to be loved and insist he meet me at the half-way point?
It’s my choice.
Do I let my feelings sabotage my joy?
Or do I allow the Spirit of God to overcome my feelings when I choose to love His way rather than demand my own?
It’s my choice.
And that, my dear girls, is something I wish I’d known 35 years ago when I married Phil.
From my heart,
Diane
P.S. Have you had the delight of making a choice and finding your emotions catch up with what you know is true? Can you tell us about it? Was it hard? Surprising? What helped you choose rightly?
I am loving the honesty of your responses. Sharing your stories of both triumphs and regrets is the best way I know to bring courage to each other. Keep ‘em coming!
Ruth 4v13-17
Ever After (Part One)
(Click here to listen to the sixth Ruth teaching)
This closing scene in the drama of Ruth reaches back to the beginning of the tale to provide an immensely satisfying summary.
With sighs of relief, we read that God did indeed step into Naomi’s story in spite of her predictions of doom and her tendency towards despair. And we can’t help but wonder if He will do the same for us.
Without doing anything to deserve it, Naomi is carried away to a place of rest and security. As she holds her grandson in her arms, her eyes, once dull with pain, brighten with hope. The wrinkles lining her face give way to the smile she cannot repress.
How she must have loved that boy!
Naomi’s friends join in a chorus of blessing as if to remind Naomi of the defeated dirge she sang to them when she stumbled into town at the lowest point of her life. Now, many months later, her life is filled with love and hope and dreams for the future.
We’ll read this week of weddings and babies, love and romance. We’ll delight in all of those delicious details women love. But we’ll also find security in the reality of God’s unending love for us - in spite of our many flaws and failings.
Like Naomi, we lean precariously close to despair at times when our lives take us down painful paths. And like Ruth, we have Boaz to thank for snatching us from soul starvation and filling us full with God’s love.
Someday your story will end as well. Will your epilogue bring a sigh of satisfaction to the ones you want to read it? Will the final lines be filled with praise to God’s faithful loving-kindness?
Will you live this week in the security of knowing that your Father holds your Ever After firmly in His hands?
Verse of the Week
“…OUR ADEQUACY IS FROM GOD.” 1 Corinthians 3v5b NASB
More Words from the Father
Job 42v1-6
2 Corinthians 12v7-10, 13v4
2 Corinthians 1v1-11
1 Peter 4v12-5v14
From my Heart
In Spite of Me
Naomi couldn’t fake it. She was too mad for that - too bitter. She’d suffered way too much to put on a pretty smile and blithely praise the Lord. And besides that, she was confused. Should she run from God or run to Him? Was God out to get her? First Elimelech, then Mahlon, now Chilion. Was she next? Should she just dig her grave, pull up a lawn chair, and wait for the inevitable?
No. Naomi did not suffer well.
But then neither did Job, not really. After his initial grand burst of worship and surrender in Job 1, he regresses to hours and hours of fruitless speculation and endlessly boorish dialogue with his know-it-all friends. Naomi skips all that and slides right into a muddy pit of self-pity.
Yet even with all their flaws and failures, neither Job nor Naomi gave up on God. And even more amazing than that, God didn’t give up on them! In fact, strange as it may seem, God actually used Naomi to bring an idol-worshipping pagan (that would be Ruth) into the Kingdom.
Sometimes we think that God needs a bunch of Barbie-doll perfect people in order to win the lost to His heart.
We’ve got to have our act together,
be strong,
flawless,
and always nice.
We can’t get mad,
don’t dare pout,
and must never, ever doubt.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
And I know because I’ve been there.
In the weeks that followed our young son’s diagnosis of Juvenile Diabetes, my safe and tidy world fell apart. I fell apart. I was terrified, sleep deprived, demanding, impotent to control a disease that had launched our family into a tailspin. I cried, I worried, and I called the diabetes nurse-educator every time he hiccuped.
Sue was endlessly patient with my ravings. Since she herself had managed the disease for 20 years or more, she knew exactly how I felt. More importantly, she knew what to do. In the middle of the night when I would call, clueless as to what to do, Sue would calm me down, give me concrete instructions and tell me to go back to bed. In her office, she would push the Kleenex box my way and give me reams of material to read. She never scolded, nor did she shame me for my maternal madness.
Sue was not a Christian. Not in any sense of the word. But something deep down inside of me drew her, despite the chaotic mess on the outside. To my astonishment, one day she showed up at my church. She bought a Bible and asked me where to read. And to my utter and eternal surprise, Sue and her husband and her son gave their lives to my same Savior! I watched in wonder as they were all baptized together.
Sue had seen me at my worst. Not a fake smile in sight. I wasn’t strong; I was incredibly fragile. I wasn’t nice; I reacted wrongly in my fear. And I certainly wasn’t an example to pattern her life after. I was a sniveling mess! Yet still, that Spirit of the living God, buried deep beneath the layers of my grieving, showed up just enough to intrigue her and to draw her to Himself.
Ruth watched Naomi grieve. She heard her rant and rave. She smelled her fear and touched her tears. And something inside of Ruth connected at some visceral level to the spirit of Yahweh buried deep within Naomi’s suffering soul. She wasn’t insular in her suffering. Instead, Naomi’s keening drew her closer to the One she knew as the Creator of life, Elohim.
And Ruth felt Him too.
In fact, through the mess of Naomi’s transparency, Ruth detected the faintest whiff of something real. And she determined to have it.
“We have,” observed the apostle Paul, “this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves…”
And so it is in His Kingdom.
He draws hearts to Himself
in spite of ourselves…
In spite of our weakness.
And maybe because of our pain.
And that, my dear friends is all a story of His amazing grace!
From my heart,
Diane
ETC
An Empty Womb
Even the word sounds bleak: barrenness. Whoever came up with such a nasty word? And Webster’s definition is brutal: Incapable of producing offspring, not productive, habitually failing to fruit.
Sounds like a disease!
A woman’s identity and significance throughout history has been wrapped up in her ability to conceive and bear children. For women unable to have children in our times, the emotional pain can be excruciating. Yet for women in Ruth and Naomi’s culture, infertility could prove disastrous.
“The barren woman joins the widow in the margins of society…displacement is a sure short road to poverty - or worse,” writes Carolyn James.
While society worked against the childless woman, God kept busy helping them. He left us with stories of women who chose not to cave in to the stigma of barrenness - women God used beautifully to bring honor to Himself.
Is there an area of your life that feels barren? Unfruitful? Like a failure? Search out the stories of these “holy women from…former times…who hoped in God.” Watch their stories unfold in fruitfulness as they relied on Him alone to use the brokenness of their lives to bring His story to a hurting world.
Sarah........Genesis 11v30
Hannah.......1 Samuel 1v2
Rebekah......Genesis 25v20, 26
Rachel.......Genesis 30v1, 22
Elizabeth....Luke 1v7
Words
Bo: “And he went into her.”
This simple word holds a world of implications. It is the fourth most frequently used verb in the Old Testament, generally meaning to go or enter or arrive. With just one added preposition it takes on the meaning found in our reading and used frequently through out the biblical narrative: to have sexual intercourse.
God leaves very little to our imaginations. No fading lights or subtle hints. The Hebrew Bible would not qualify for a G-rating. Boaz drew Ruth away from the well-meaning crowd, took her to his home, and loved her as a man loves a woman. And from that love comes the lineage of our Lord Jesus Christ.
I waited and waited and waited for God.
At last he looked; finally he listened.
He lifted me out of the ditch, pulled me from deep mud.
He stood me up on a solid rock to make sure I wouldn’t slip.
He taught me how to sing the latest God-song,
a praise-song to our God.
More and more people are seeing this:
they enter the mystery, abandoning themselves to God.
Psalm 40:1-3
The Message
As you read these words I am flying high above the world to a place far away. An exotic place of tropical flowers and spiced foods and a people whose skin is browned by endless sun.
For hours and hours I’ll be restlessly wiggling in the inches I’m allotted, trying to get comfortable, trying not to look at my watch, trying to focus on the pictures of the place I’m going rather than place I’m tied to.
And then finally I’ll get there.
All the waiting will be worth it. I’ll step into a world I’ve never known. Into a beauty I’ve only imagined. I’ll breathe deep of scents that cannot be bottled or sold or remembered. And I’ll relish every moment.
And my dear girls, that’s just the tiniest imperfect picture of what we live every day.
All week I’ve read your notes to me; the comments, the emails and messages. I’ve sensed your wiggling. Your frustration that the trip seems confining, uncomfortable, and endlessly long.
You want to get there. Now.
I’ve heard from the woman who has never known the love of a father. And now her husband seems about to abandon her. In her world, when the going gets tough, men run away. So how can she possibly grasp the love of a Father that will never let go?
How can she feel loved by God?
And I’ve heard the cry of the woman who wakes up every morning with a crushing weight of worry on her chest. She’s married to a good and godly man who cannot make it go away no matter how hard he tries.
Every day she wonders, What’s wrong with me?
And so many feeling stuck, disappointed that all those dreams haven’t happened. The promise of the Prince who was supposed to sweep them off their feet if only they’d stay faithful and wait for him…
Where is he? Why is it taking so long?
Some women are all alone. Others wish they were.
And then there’s the one whose story I understand too well. The one who has all she ever wanted and wakes up dreading her days.
Because all we’ve ever wanted is never enough.
And as I fly to Indonesia with Phil I feel as if I’m the mom leaving a note on the counter for her kids.
We’ll be going to share our stories and God’s Word with a group of pastors who, just like you, are longing for more. Men and women who have families and needs and money troubles and relational strains and pressures and never enough time to do it all. They speak a different language but something tells me we all need the same words.
And while we are away I’ll be writing home to all my daughters because the truth is I think the Father has tucked you so close to my heart that I think and pray and jot notes to you all the time.
As I was making lists and running errands and getting ready to go on this trip to the other side of the world, it dawned on me that most of us go into the adventure of marriage with hardly a thought to what we need to pack.
And so while I’m away I’m going to send home some quick postcard sized notes in this part of the blog we call Glimpses about four things that need to go into your suitcase. These are four things I didn’t pack before I married Phil. Because I had no idea I’d need them… because, after all, I thought I was marrying my Prince Charming and he would be the one to meet all my needs.
Of course he would. He was Phil Comer. Godly and good, strong yet tender-hearted, so totally focused on me that he had swept me off my feet and offered to carry me tirelessly all through life.
Why bother with preparations? He was my dream come true, all I’d ever need…
He was my idol.
It is my hope that these four items will bring you to a place where waiting doesn’t seem so… endless… and uncomfortable.
A place of rest.
From my heart,
Diane
One month after my 19th birthday I married the man of my dreams.
Phil was exactly what I wanted. Strong yet tender, godly and good, he exuded charisma and made me feel safe and valued.
I was new to faith but absolutely determined to follow God with abandon. I’d cleaned up my fairly innocent life in order to align myself with every single rule I could ferret out.Phil was way ahead of me, steeped in the wisdom of the Scriptures and unerringly strict in his application of those words to his own life.
I admired him more than any man I’d ever met and loved him with a passion that consumed me.
When we got home from our fairy-tale honeymoon and Phil went back to work, I set about creating a home for the two of us. I cleaned and scrubbed and painted our little house on the corner while soup bubbled on the stove and ruffled curtains let in the fresh California sunshine. At night Phil came home and filled me in on all the comings and goings and conflicts and victories of life as a worship pastor at our church.
Perfect.
So far I’d lived up to my pledge to meet Phil’s every need. And though we’d had a struggle or two over hurt feelings and misunderstandings, we’d managed to be nice and make up every time.
Until my hair dryer broke.
One of my favorite ways Phil loved me was when he offered to dry my hair. I’d sit on the floor at his feet while he used the hairdryer and a soft bristled brush to dry my long blond strands to silky perfection. So soothing and so romantic.
Then one day some stray hairs wound around the motor of that hair dryer and all of a sudden Phil saw it spark. We smelled the awful scent of burning before it quit. Permanently. Now what? We had precious little money for much else than groceries and gas and our house payment. Running out to Target to buy a hair dryer was not an option.
Phil, ever the valiant warrior, promised to fix it. I put it out on our shiny-new-never-before-used-wedding-gift workbench so he could.
The next morning, as was his habit, Phil got up just in time to read his Bible and before rushing off to the office, gobble down one of my homemade breakfasts (because every young bride who reads the stacks of books on marriage knows that making breakfast for her man is essential to a good and lasting marriage).
Okay, I reasoned, no worries, he’ll fix it tonight. But that night came and with it responsibilities that kept us both out late. The next morning he dashed off in the nick of time to work.
A week went by. I hinted. I mentioned. I suggested.
Phil assured me he’d get to it as soon as he possibly could. He promised. Several times. With a big compelling smile and a compliment on my sun-dried hair.
Inside I was starting to sag. Maybe he didn’t love me. Maybe I was just becoming too much trouble. Or maybe it was his problem. Maybe he was a workaholic. Maybe he wasn’t doing what every-husband-ought-to-do. Hadn’t he promised to love me and cherish me and provide for me, and all that? Wasn’t fixing hair dryers part of his job?
Every day I mentioned that hair dryer. At least once. Okay, maybe more than once. A lot. And of course there were the notes…just to remind him…no pressure. And Phil started to get irritated.
Then finally we had a day off. Nothing planned but a bike ride in the sun, maybe a lingering breakfast somewhere close by. Time together to enjoy being newlyweds.
But for that hairdryer on the workbench it would have been a fabulous day.
When Phil never so much as mentioned fixing the hairdryer as we planned out our fun day, my insides sank lower. This was it! He didn’t love me at all!
Of course I didn’t act hurt. I didn’t ask if his neglect of my hairdryer meant he didn’t really love me and therefore couldn’t be bothered. Instead, in typical female fashion I looked and sounded annoyed. Hands on my hips, scowl on my face, all those flirty womanly ways buried behind a façade of belligerence.
And to my extreme consternation, instead of bowing at my feet, apologizing profusely, and immediately making his way to the workbench to fix my poor hairdryer, Phil got mad right back. And that’s when two worn out, strong-willed, misunderstood, hurt people jumped onto the Crazy Cycle.[1
All day long we tried to “resolve” it. And all day long we just kept stepping on each other’s toes and causing more hurt. Every single grievance got dredged up and hashed and rehashed. Tears and apologies and more rounds of blaming.
Just ugly, defeating, discouraging meanness.
All these years later I shudder when I remember that sinking feeling of failure I felt. Our love would never, could never be the same. I was sure of it. We were not the perfect couple. Phil was most definitely not my Prince Charming. And I would never be the perfect wife.
The fairy tale was over.
And that, my dear daughters, is the real beginning of when God began to grow me up so that I could learn to love for a lifetime.
The journey has been long and often painful. We’ve instigated and endured many days of “trying to resolve it”. And yet here we are, nearly 35 years later and as I write this Phil brought me a lovely half-caf coffee with just a bit raw sugar stirred in and a dollop of whipped cream on top… just the way I like it. I mean, girls, who does that?
Later we’ll talk about conflict and some do’s and don’ts I’ve learned along this bumpy road to real romance. But for now, here are just a few things I think you should know…
1. Rules don’t work.
I thought if I followed “the rules” meticulously then my husband would always be happy. But I’ve learned that there is no one-way to love a man well. Instead we study him, listening carefully, watching for signs of stress or that sigh of distress that signals unspoken need.
2. Books don’t tell everything.
I love to read. Books have taught me how to clean my house, how to cook, how to pack for a vacation, how to house break a puppy and toilet train a child. But books will never be able to tell me how to love my husband. Loving a man well over a lifetime is a skill learned by sitting at the feet of the Father who made both of you and asking for wisdom to know how.
3. My husband needs more than me.
I cannot and never will meet all my husband’s needs. I am not enough. I’ll never be enough. And as hard as that is to swallow, it’s freeing too. Being freed from the need to make my husband happy also frees me to lavish him with my love and to honor him as a man.
4. He wants to be your Prince Charming
Phil wanted to fix my hair dryer, he really did. He wanted to prove his valiant conquer-the-world-status to his adoring bride. Your husband longs to be your hero too. He wants to sweep you off your feet and enamor you with his strength. He wants to fix everything for you. But he can’t. And that’s okay. Some things can only be fixed by that same Father who teaches how to love well. And some things won’t be fixed until all this broken world is made right on the day He comes to get His Bride.
I wish… that Phil had just told me that he couldn’t fix that hair dryer on the workbench if his life depended on it.
I wish… that I’d just told him I’d take my broken hairdryer to someone who could fix it for me rather than hold his less-than-admirable-fixing skills as a test of his love.
But I’m glad we’re both freed now from expecting too much from each other and from ourselves. Because the more we learn to depend on God to meet our needs and fix our brokenness the more we’ll be able to love with abandon.
Because, you know girls, He’s Not Your Prince Charming…
From my heart,
Diane
P.S. Are you learning this lesson too? Is God patiently and persistently teaching you that He is enough? Will you tell us what you’re learning? I cherish your stories…
Keep checking back this week… I’ve got some notes to help you along the way that will be posted in Glimpses.
[1] That’s what our friends, Emmerson and Sarah Eggerich’s so aptly name what happens to every married couple in their book, Love and Respect. If you haven’t already, please read it! It is profoundly insightful and helpful.