Infinite Possibilities...But What Is Mine?

My life experiences have taught me that every woman's pregnancy experience is different, not only from other women's experiences, but from her own different experiences. No two pregnancies or births are completely alike.

 In the same way, no two people have the same relationship with God. Now think of all the people God knows, and it's incomprehensible that He doesn't start to treat us all alike in some ways. I feel stretched to the max getting to know my husband and five kids. Not to mention all the "friends" I have on Facebook (annnnd, I'm kidding). But God has made us all so unique, that the ways in which he relates to us are infinitely unique.  Although most of us like to enjoy affinity with one another, I try to be cautious not to project my own preferences or experiences onto others.  As more grey hairs twang out of the top of my head (which I infer to mean I'm growing wiser) I opinionate less and listen more...and I am amazed at our creative God and the depth of his love for us.  I'll notice that he loves someone else in a completely different way than he is loving me, much like how I relate to my own children.  I can be jealous of how He is loving another, or maybe just glad for them, because that's not what would float my boat.  It drives me crazy to see people rolling their eyes at a mother's maternity choices, or telling someone what God wants them to do, as if in their limited frame of reference, they've become all-knowing.

Sometimes I don't want to admit it, but marriages are all different, too.  There are some basic ideas, but how that plays out for each person is infinitely unique.  I recently heard Bill Clem of Mars Hill Ballard say this:

"What I understood about marriage, before I got remarried, was that I could be a good husband by being a biblical husband.  But if you have children...you start understanding you can love them, but there really is a difference and that you can't just generically be "dad" or generically be "mom" to all [five].  That there's a way that you have to love each person in a unique way.  That becomes the assignment in marriage.  It isn't to be a generic biblical spouse, but it is to be a biblical spouse who is tailor-shaping that love to your spouse, and that they tailor themselves to express a biblical love to you and that's what makes it marriage instead of simply fellowship."

The reason I don't want to admit this is because I am married to an addict.  I want to squeeze my marriage into the boundaries of another marriage, so I can somehow extract more of the romantic ideals that other marriages seem to have more of.  I want to be experiencing what I regard as cohesive marriage where we're both equally contributing to the relationship (picture me doing the Robot here).  In our relationship it seems like we are both contributing to the healing of the addict, and a very unequal piece of care comes my way. This may or may not be true, and this may or may not be something I have control over; I haven't completely figured it out yet.  On many good days, I'm leaning hard into friends and my Redeemer Husband to keep my heart from exploding with need.

Twice this week I've heard Philippians 2--

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who,being in very nature God, didn't consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death-- even death on a cross!  (NIV)

Wow. If Jesus was equal to God and used this status to serve others with to-the-death humility, then how about this: I am unequivocally loved, accepted and provided for by God, so I have the ability to use this to serve others with to-the-death humility. Obedience....the very nature of a servant....tailor-shaping that love to your spouse.... It all fits together, and it serves me well to keep asking... how?

On Being Attracted vs Being in Love

On Sunday we were discussing Jacob, who stole his brother's blessing and then ran into the desert to hide. His reverence to God is conditional, he brings chaos and jealous, adulterous baby-making to his unhappy wives ("What? You want me to just have sex with your servants? Gee, okay, if you insist..."). What a mess! As a husband and a servant of God, he's kind of a wuss. Jacob is not turning out to be a very attractive man in my opinion.

But still... God has a plan. Jacob's been blessed, and God is moving forward with it. As over-dramatic as his response seems, Jacob has an encounter with God and proclaims, "Surely, the Lord is in this place!" In the middle of nowhere, God meets this most undeserving man with grace and mercy.
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These lives in the bible, they are all examples of the stuff we live too, and the stories all point to Jesus and the grace and mercy he gave to the undeserving.

And I'm realizing that I don't have to always be attracted to my husband. I just have to always be in love with my ever-faithful God. He has a plan, He's doing it. And the purpose, never forget, is for my story to point to Jesus, and the immeasurable grace and mercy he demonstrated to me (undeserving) on the cross.

So my marriage? Surely God is in this place. I just need to be looking for Him.

Hoping...in what, exactly?

He calls me, excited at spending more time with one of "his guys", getting to share more of our story. "And it's encouraging people!" He is clearly smiling on the other end of the connection. Today, at this moment, he is having a good day.

But. I am not feeling encouraged. In fact, I am increasingly losing hope.

I am feeling the weight of a string of little betrayals, little slips, little character flaws coming to the surface. Lately, he has not been fighting like a warrior; in fact, he reminds me of a teenager who doesn't want to do his homework, whining and procrastinating and... failing the Test.

I'll be straight with you, it turns me off. Mighty warrior, fighting for God, fighting for me... now that's sexy! Lazy, acne-ridden teenager? Not so much.

My hope comes into question, then. Am I just a loony, hanging on to this? Should I be kicking myself in the rear for placing just a tiny bit of hope in having a husband who loves me and fights for me, who honors God and raises his children with intentionality and fervor? He seemed like he was on his way to maturity, one of the strongest men I know, to get this far. He has fought through so many obstacles....

But is it all just there, under the surface, like cancer cells, waiting to spring up and kill us off? How much of remission is his will to survive, and how much is still generations of sin, hidden, clinging on?

What am I hoping for, anyway?

Am I hoping that he will grow into a husband who loves me and our kids with his subservience to God?

Am I hoping that we just somehow stop passing on the majority (if not all) the psycho strongholds we brought into marriage?

Am I hoping that I will manage to honor my Father God with my own heart's intentions, whatever may come of my husband? That's a hard one...because how do you explain it to the kids: all the subtle ramifications of his sin that affect their lives: lost jobs, parents not being on the same page, his subtle isolation from them and from mommy. When they ask the questions and I know the answer, and I have to do something I rarely do: not trust them with the truth. What about all that?

We lay our hope, full and tender, into the depths of Him and wait in hope for God to resurrect something good. Good always necessitates long waiting. --Ann Voskamp

I have to teach them that God is trustworthy. That we can wait in hope for God because he is doing a good thing...we just have to wait. Maybe even generations. They might have to wait too, not ever seeing what we all want to see: Daddy choose God and Mommy over medicating his discomfort. Daddy finding his identity in God, trusting the process, fighting through pain like a warrior who has a legacy to protect, a King to serve!

I don't know how I'll explain those awkward, painful things. I have to hope that God will meet me in those moments too. I have to hope that God is resurrecting something good in me, and consequently, in my children. Not only in spite of my addict husband, but--I'll admit it--in spite of...me.

Remembering the Promise

Many times, in order to keep perspective on what addiction recovery is all about, I think of myself as being married to someone with a medical condition. For instance, if my husband, whom I love dearly and have committed my life to-- in sickness and in health-- had had a stroke, I wouldn't have up and left him saying, "I didn't sign up for this! Hmph!" While stroke and addiction are very different, strokes are debilitating, unfair and therefore a kind of painful betrayal, and while you will  never be the person you were before, it is often possible to recover almost completely with years of patient, hard work. It would be heartbreaking and immeasurably difficult, but if I made that choice to stay, I would have to remember that this is the life I'd chosen to take on. And the person you become as a result of the struggle and fight to recover might even be a person you like better anyway.

This last week we had a situation. A friend invited the kids and I to an overnight at a beach house with her family. One of my first thoughts, admittedly, was that I can't stay trapped at home forever by my husband's "problem"... aaaand things have been feeling more "normal" lately so we should be fine-see-you-on-the-flip-side-bye-bye. He went to work, I went to the beach, end of story.

If only.

I have signed up to be the main helper of  a man with a debilitating disease, and I just left him for a weekend without preparing, without making a plan for his care in my absence. Loneliness swept in with full force and before he knew what was happening, he was slipping.

I'm not saying it's my fault, or that he's not responsible for his own choices and actions. But both of us have a longing to be "normal" (whatever that means), to have a break from the arduous work of recovery. Sometimes, when the work has become a normal part of life and everyone looks healthy, it's easy to forget that we are healthy because we are doing that hard work. If you throw something different into the day, you have to compensate by changing your recovery plan, or "changing your meds" as I like to say. We should have made a Relapse Prevention Plan*. Being active in recovery affords us the freedom of being apart, or doing things that are otherwise triggers to us. So when loneliness comes pounding on the door, my husband would be prepared to answer. And I, instead of secretly worrying like a codependent, could enjoy my time at the beach more fully.

What the Locusts Have Eaten...

There have been years and years-- generations in our family history-- that have been eaten up by an army of locusts...

What the locust swarm has left

the great locusts have eaten;

what the great locusts have left

the young locusts have eaten;

what the young locusts have left

other locusts have eaten.

Joel 1.4

...and I forget that this isn't just a clinical disease that I can control and fix with educated, strategic choices. I forget that a promise has been given to me. I forget what my husband once said that I had to write on the wall because it was so profound it had to be our family mantra: It's not just a fight to survive, we're serving God! It's the promise; the promise is why we're doing this. I saw it again this morning, in Joel:

I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten--

the great locust and the young locust,

the other locusts and the locust swarm--

my great army that I sent among you

Joel 2.25

Over and over again the Bible tells the same story: the people don't trust Him, they rebel and find their own way and end up leading themselves into destruction. God helps expediate their destruction because He is in a hurry for His people to return to Him. And then the promises: I will repay you... you will have plenty... you will know... because I am faithful... never again will my people be shamed (2.27).

I am not JUST following doctor's orders. I am living out a promise! What the locusts have eaten, God is restoring...and  I will praise the name of the Lord my God, who has worked wonders for me!

*Creating a Relapse Prevention Plan helps you to remain 'sober' and offers you a way to escape when tempted. I will work on posting a more detailed description of a Relapse Prevention Plan in the future.

Personal Transformation

Someday I want to explain to you the layers upon layers that are in this sermon, and the reasons it absolutely rocked my world, and is still rocking my world today. The Word of God. Man... It does not come back void. A promise He gives you one day, will still be true and alive later. To look back on this sermon from -oh my goodness- FOUR years ago and to know how God has been keeping and has yet to fulfill even more His promise to transform us for His glory is nothing short of the most humbling, amazing realization. I know without a doubt, I am seen and loved by God, because of how much He cares about my story and what He can do with it.

Near the end of the sermon Rick (the pastor) talks about a woman who sent him an email about her husband's adultery... well, that was me! I hope you have time to give this a listen.

Emoting Responsibly

I need to share my story. It just burns on my fingertips. Enough with the doubting and overthinking and just get on with it.

I will be sleeping on the couch tonight. And not because of the baby. The last few days have brought on a completely humbling experience and my head is taking it's sweet time to sort things out. There are so many angles to this one issue we're dealing with, I don't even want to describe it. But here is the part I own:

At times I have been so bitter about not being able to go to my husband for support and encouragement when I am discouraged, depressed or spiritually confused. I understand that he is in recovery and sometimes barely keeping his own head above water as he sorts out the life that brought him to today. But I long for him to be strong when I am weak, to hold me up when I feel like I am drowning! And maybe this is what husbands are supposed to do. I'm not even sure. But I know that to automatically expect this of him is wrong. If he does it, that's good. If I expect it, that's wrong. Because addiction or no addiction, he is still a man and could be in any sort of mood, and possibly unprepared for my need of rescue. Only God stands firm as a refuge 100% of the time. I am realizing that I have been holding out hope for the one day that my husband will be equal to God and be ever ready and waiting for my emotional tsunamis. That is not called recovery. That is called unrealistic.

Even when I am hurting and emotional, I need to be consistent in my love for others. Because I have been avoiding God in my attempt to wait patiently for my husband to reach divine status (how supportive of me!) I will fall recklessly into emotion until I cannot see past my own pain in those moments. If I am going to come to my husband for understanding, the mature thing is to make sure I'm not dragging with me things that are known triggers for him. I need to consider him, even when I am overcome with emotion. I need to remember that even when I am very emotional, I still have the capacity and responsibility to make choices that reflect love for God and others and even myself.

"Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. Don't condemn those who are down; that hardness can boomerang. Be easy on people; you'll find life a lot easier. Give away your life; you'll find life given back, but not merely given back—given back with bonus and blessing. Giving, not getting, is the way. Generosity begets generosity." Luke 6.37-38, The Message

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There. I can agree with that. If only you knew the tumultuous conversation that has been going on around this lesson for me! Feminism, entitlement, codependency, body image and a heaping dose of personal pride, some useless and hurtful gossip shared by the husband... there are a lot of lies swirling around in my head that we need to just lay to rest; they are so painful. And I think they are beside the point, just wind blustering around the steady words of the Father.

"We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
"But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love." I Cor. 13.12-13, The Message

Prayer

This is my prayer, and what I want my prayer to be. And I think this week it's time I tried S-Anon....

I haven't been very real on my blog. One reason is that I have so much going on in my head and so little time to sort it out, much less write it down. The other is because I'm afraid of being judged; there, I said it. If I can't spit my thoughts out coherently, someone might get the wrong idea, which might have a variety of ramifications. I want to come to all the proper solutions before I write, so that every post can be this display of moral perfection. But when all I can see is sadness or anger or confusion, I write nothing. I can be really mean, and I don't want to be really mean publicly. I guess I'm afraid of anyone seeing me work it out, which is really sad to me because it's the "working it out" that holds the story.

But then I remember the part where I'm rarely allowed to think a complete thought, much less blog it, and I have to just forgive myself....

My Body: Unadorned Clay Pot

"For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body." (2 Corinthians 4.6-11)

One of the discussion questions at the women's forum this weekend was, "In what ways have you seen beauty show up in pain?" The obvious answer for me was childbirth. The birth of a child has got to be the most straight-forward, downright, most miraculous and wonderful result of pain on the planet. I can't think of anything that compares.

Although a close second would be the worst hike I ever took: 6 miles straight up a mountain in Austria. There were blisters, tears, hunger, burning lungs, lots of spitting, willing the legs to move when I couldn't feel them anymore. But then when we got to the top of the range..... It left me speechless. Angels were singing. A cool breeze waft across my sweaty brow and I stood there shaking, mouth agape as before me in all directions were layers upon layers of mountain summits, their colors fading from the dirt and grass I stood on to smokey purple and fuchsia and gold as far as the eye could see. To this day, it was the most beautiful, serene thing I have ever laid eyes on. That view made the day's torturous trek not only worth it, but a victorious testimony of what my physical body was capable of. -Ha! I was nowhere near dead! It was my spirit that has a tendency to be weak and vulnerable; my attitude that is shaky. That's why I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me! (Phil. 4.13)

But the most significant, meaningful way I've seen beauty show up in pain has been in the way God has taken my broken, wounded, betrayed and sinful heart and saved it. Changed it. Renamed it. Redeemed it.

In my previous post I explained this clay pot I live in. The skin I'm in. My shell. It's not my best feature. In living with an addict, I have been majorly stressed out, confused and uncertain, definitely abused, disrespected and taken advantage of, and my heart has been dealt repeated blows. But each pain I have felt has also been carried by Jesus on the cross (plus those of the rest of humanity). I believe that is what it means that we carry around in our body the death of Jesus.

But Jesus didn't stay down. Jesus conquered death! Jesus is alive and he is inside of me, as promised! So, I may be an unadorned, clay pot....but check out my strengths:

• I am at ease, composed, emboldened, proud, reassured, fixed, whole, connected (not crushed!)
• I have confidence, faith, cheerfulness, hapiness, hope, joy and trust (not despair!)
• I have been adopted, cherished, defended, maintained, supported (not abandoned!)
• I am intact, protected, restored...saved (not destroyed!) (...and thank you, thesaurus.com!)
  

This is the life of Jesus, being revealed in my body...my clay pot...after being devastated by betrayal. There were times when I prayed for God to just take my life because the pain was so great. I remember late one night after a major disclosure, on an errand to the drug store in a sketchy part of town, thinking it wouldn't matter if I were raped and stabbed and left for dead, because I couldn't imagine a betrayal and pain worse than the one I'd just suffered.

I'm telling you, if you can't remember anything about the Bible, if you know nothing else, remember this: Jesus carried the burden of the whole world's sins on the cross: He died in my place. And then rose from the dead. And is alive still. It's so simple! The pain of the whole world's betrayal is worse than the pain and betrayal I have suffered, that's what is worse. And because he lives, so can I.

Beauty from pain!

My Body: Enthralled

Today I went to a forum for women at my church entitled "What is it to Have a Women's Body?" This is the blurb about it:

The female form often stands judged, critiqued, and condemned. How can our physicality be known, nurtured, and celebrated? Age, vigor, beauty... history, hurts, and illness. Join other women to examine our flesh and bones from all angles, and seek a sense of health and peace as you live in your own skin.

I wish I had spoken up more. There were a few girls at my table who had enough things to say that filled up the time, but for me, the discussion questions were so loaded, I didn't know where I would start, or how much I could get out coherently before we were cut short by the next speaker. By the time I got up the nerve to start speaking, time was up. Maybe this is what "older and wiser" actually is: life has dealt you so much experience, you just don't know where to start. So you keep your mouth shut.

Not that I'm older and wiser. Yeah...sometimes I'm older, sometimes I'm not. Sometimes I find others are "none the wiser" and I know a whole world of things I wish I didn't. But let me remind myself that it's how much I let God use that to change me, and to see things from His perspective that qualifies me as "wiser".

Another reason I didn't speak up was because I didn't know if my answers were 100% relevant to the forum. People were talking about back pain and surgeries, and all I could think about was how my crazy journey of a thousand betrayals has changed the way I view God and my body and my spirit, and how it is all intermingled. How I have been exposed and humiliated and vulnerable in front of strangers, naked before God in my little sewn-together fig leaves. How He has clothed me in a different skin, and given me contact lenses to see better.

So...this is my do-over. I'll write it all out here, and it will hopefully make more sense in this context anyway. I'll start with the little souvenir the host of my table left us: a flowery bookmark with a verse on it that has, ironically, been a key part of my journey.

"The king is enthralled by your beauty;
honor him, for he is your lord." Ps. 45.11

The use of "lord" there is also translated as "husband" and is the same word Sarah used for Abraham in Genesis. God is speaking to us as the bride of Christ; Psalm 45 is a wedding song. I can't remember when it was exactly, but a few years ago a friend of mine gave me that verse, printed out in a cheap silver frame that didn't match my decor at all. I remember thinking that I needed so desperately to believe those words, that I didn't care what they were written on. I put it up where I could see it every day, in the bathroom, where I was most critical of myself; next to the toothbrushes, so I couldn't ignore it. I resolved to read those words every day until I believed them, thanking God that it was true, confessing my disbelief.

Oh, how I struggled with those words. Let's just start with beauty. Now, I knew there's wasn't a single thing beautiful about me. Well, my eyes were ok. And sometimes I had a good hair day. But I was fat and lumpy after having four children, every inch of my skin had some blemish on it. I could go on and on. And as for inner beauty, I was angry, lazy, depressed, and perverted. One of the things that has grieved me the most has been the sexual immorality I adopted in order to rationalize the changes I saw in my husband. I wanted so badly to have his love and attention, I intuitively knew that demoralizing myself was the way to get it. But in the end, even that didn't work, and I was left feeling ugly to the core.

And yet I knew I was a child of God. If He says I have beauty, there must be a shred of something He is clinging to. After all, when God created man, he made him in the likeness of God. (Gen. 5.1) I was sure I was nothing like God...and I really couldn't wrap my mind around beauty being about anything other than the body. My husband had abandoned a relationship with my heart and soul and was abusing his own, and all that was left to attract his attention was my body, and like I said, that was an ugly mess. I had fallen hook, line and sinker for every lie the culture tells about the woman's body, and was convinced I was pretty much the opposite of beauty. Every important man in my life had confirmed these lies as true, and I knew my mom believed them too. I'm pretty sure I can safely say I was at zero hope for ever posessing beauty, much less enthralling anyone with it.

But here was God, telling me I had it, and that He was enthralled. Enthralled? That's a pretty strong word. But then there's that second half of the verse: honor him, for he is your lord. I know God doesn't lie. If He thinks something is beautiful, then it is. Even if I don't see it. And by trying to believe God's word-- even if I don't see how it's true-- I knew that would somehow be honoring him, as weak of an effort as that was.

Eventually, these baby steps toward God brought me into the light, and God started to heal what was broken in my spirit. As I believed more and more that God loved me, I began to regard whatever little beauty I had as something God wanted me to honor Him with. If I used my body to appeal to a man who was living in darkness, that meant I had to go into that darkness myself. Contrasted with the enthralled gaze of my lord, I started to need my husband's distracted attention less and less, and I would slowly stop pursuing his approval...

Post-it Notes

The other day I came across this note I gave my husband a year ago February; he keeps it in his work-shirt pocket, transferring it to the next-day's shirt every evening (he'd left it on the dresser). To be honest, I love that he keeps it with him as a reminder of this journey we're still on together.

2/19/07

I hope you don't mind that God has been USING you,
and your self-destruction to bring me to the end of my own--
And the rebuilding of you to open my eyes to the Kingdom.
I was too scared to open my eyes before and feel the tension of trusting God!
Somehow, we've both said, "WHAT THE HELL!" and jumped
naked into the craziness of trusting God, and our eyes are being opened;
we're seeing what He's been trying to show us all along.
I'm glad to be here with you. It's this sober, not giddy love I have for you, and what's more--RESPECT! I hope you can finally respect me too.
I love you.

I remember that note: inspired words written on post-it notes, stuck to the bathroom mirror for him to find in the morning, because it was late at night and he was asleep when I wrote it. I was doing the dishes--one of my best times to reflect. I believe these words were not mine; I think they were God's heart speaking to mine. These few, post-it words speak volumes to me of God's opening my eyes to the reality of His incredible presence and loving authority in my life. I am a planting of the Lord... and what I mean by that is: He's got my back...so I know who I am, and I am not afraid to be so raw and real with my husband and with God. My husband has taken the same risk of being real with God, and I'm telling you, it's terrifying to stand naked before God. I now know why Adam and Eve freaked out and ran behind the bushes! But God has snatched us up and whisked us away on a crazy road of redemption and blessing that is so different--and most likely much better--than anything we could have thought would ever happen to us. It's baffling....

Signs, and Wonders

I have been feeling the pull to write, but not having a lot of time alone, and being a perfectionist, I don't think I can get all my "deep thoughts" down before someone needs me again. I have a great story to tell: a story of betrayal and redemption and drama and rejoicing!! But I'll just have to rest in the fact that God knows I want to write, God knows I have a story to tell (He's the author, after all!) and He knows what it's gonna take to get the two things together.

For now, I will be simple and sweet...

In Yellowstone, I was struck with irony when we were driving about on roads that were flanked with--yes, buffalo--but also caution-yellow, diamond-shaped signs that read "ROUGH ROADS AHEAD" followed by, "VERY ROUGH ROADS AHEAD" and then, "EXTREMELY ROUGH ROADS AHEAD".....until finally you came around the bend and saw the breathtaking Grand Canyon of Yellowstone (I had amazing pictures, but they are lost in a crashed hard drive--argh!).

We had traveled the "extremely rough roads" and we were on top, looking down into the valley! This incredible expanse of beauty, with visual depths that boggle the mind because it's hard to grasp the immenseness of the valley, its waterfalls, and the life springing up all around it after staring at the winding pavement for so long. This breathtakingly beautiful expanse that is so huge it threatens to swallow you up! As you stare in awe and the peripheral caves into your focal point and the thunder of a waterfall roars next to you, drowning out all your fears and your doubts, you realize God is very big and I really am very small--certainly he is in control and knowing--as even all of this was formed with but a whisper from His lips, and I can rest, not knowing, not seeing, not being capable, or able, or confident in myself. Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, indeed...

Psalm 93

1 The LORD reigns, he is robed in majesty;
the LORD is robed in majesty
and is armed with strength.
The world is firmly established;
it cannot be moved.

2 Your throne was established long ago;
you are from all eternity.

3 The seas have lifted up, O LORD,
the seas have lifted up their voice;
the seas have lifted up their pounding waves.

4 Mightier than the thunder of the great waters,
mightier than the breakers of the sea—
the LORD on high is mighty.

5 Your statutes stand firm;
holiness adorns your house
for endless days, O LORD.

Condemning Myself

The following post from another blogging attempt, was my first admission of anything personal and it's really vague. I really wasn't sharing my true heart with anyone at the time. My husband's addiction was effecting our home: remodels would be started and NEVER finished. I didn't want to complain because for one, I didn't want to be a nagging wife. Also, I didn't want other people to judge my husband, which would have fueled my own frustrations about him, and opened that can of worms that was our disintegrating marriage. I didn't know it was disintegrating, I just knew there were things that I didn't like that I felt I had no control over. Why involve your friends in something you can't do anything about? I have since learned that God doesn't operate that way, and I should've sought community, friendship, and help! This was also the start of me finally hearing God tell me to regard my husband as an unbeliever and to obey God accordingly. I fought God on that one for a long time...

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Original Post: July 2006

"...Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness leads you toward repentance?" -Ro.2.4

The thing is, I've just got to leave it alone. Whether or not I like how things are, I too need to be kind, tolerant and have patience. Maybe my kindness leads to 180's too...