here's to you

My apologies to all of you who regularly read my blog for the Scripture musings–this one is going to veer from my usual trend just a little. I saw a post by one of my mentors today that warmed my heart. She said:

…this saddens me…Men are commanded by God to “agape” their wives, (a complete and excellent love, as represented by the Father’s love for His Son). I hear very little of this and do not see it as a primary focus among Christian men. So many, satisfied with career success and academic achievement will see those pursuits burn up as wood, hay and stubble as they stand before the judgement seat of Christ.

Before you wonder why her statement brought me joy, let me explain that I smiled because God has truly blessed me with a man who daily shows me how much Jesus loves us through his maturity and wisdom when it comes to loving people. This week marks an anniversary of sorts–five months to the night when Jesus supernaturally placed love for him in my heart and set me free to embark on the most peaceful, joy-filled, sweetest year I can remember having. If you’re interested on a more theological study of God’s love, you might find this post from the archives a more interesting read. However, if you’re interested in spying on an open letter to an exceptional, God-fearing man (who may take weeks to find this…which is part of the fun!) read on. =)
_________

Love is patient….like the way you wait for me to exhaust a seemingly limitless supply of adjectives to describe a situation about which you are already aware. Have I told you how much I appreciate the way you just sit there and listen until I am finished? It means so much that you never interrupt me, even when you are probably tired of hearing details about a situation that isn’t really that crucial to begin with. And how about those six months you kept coming back and offering me unconditional friendship when I kept trying to drive you away?

Love is kind….like how you look for little things to do that communicate support. Case in point, how I came home yesterday and found all the magnolia leaves raked up in my back yard, and that beautiful orchid waiting on my doorstep. Or the way you have made it your business to track down the absolute best bug-deterring chemical there is to save me from spiders. Even beyond your delightful eye for romance, you love through serving and it blesses me constantly.

Love doesn’t envy…like how you have become my number one cheerleader. I know that when you offer a suggestion, you truly have my best interests at heart. You are such an example of how Jesus is a foundation of support for us with your quiet strength in my life. You encourage (and sometimes push) me to write and to spend even more time in prayer, and rejoice at the small conquests.

Love doesn’t boast…like how you are constantly giving to people and leaving me to find out from someone else. It has almost become a game to find out what beautiful, generous thing you have done for someone each week.

Love isn’t proud…like how you constantly point to the Lord in all achievements and endeavors. You don’t try to laugh off what you do with false humility; you answer with a quiet “thank you” and then go on to enumerate how the Lord has blessed and helped you in the process. You find greater value in hand-made gifts with sentiment than in expensive gadgets. You work harder than most people I know, and sometimes go underappreciated for all that you do because you don’t demand recognition or credit for your acts of service.

Love isn’t rude…like how I never hear you yelling at other vehicles on the highway or blistering someone with scorn for perceived stupidity. Like how you always say I am beautiful, even on those “self-doubting” days (especially on those days, come to think of it). Like how you never chastise me for how I feel, even when we both know I am going to decide my thinking is wrong within twenty-four hours. Like how you challenge me with soft-spoken questions instead of harsh reprimands.

Love isn’t self-seeking…like how you are quick to pray for anyone, whether you know them or not, without demanding that they know your name. The other day, I mentioned to you about some friends of mine who had lost their jobs, and your immediate response was, “I’m praying for them.” You live to serve, and I respect you so much because of that.

Love isn’t easily angered…like how you listen and respond calmly when we disagree. You have never insulted me as a person, never indicated that I was an idiot for believing something, never called me selfish or insecure, even if and when I probably deserve it.

Love keeps no record of wrongs…like how I never worry that you are going to throw some mistake from the past back at me. Ever.

Love doesn’t delight in evil but rejoices with the truth…like how you are quick to recognize an enemy attack and use your spiritual authority as head of our relationship to pray over me. You have zero tolerance for Satan’s efforts at deception, and are quick to counter his lies with the Word.

Love always protects…like how you have arranged to have the locks on all my doors changed. Like how you came over that night my outside light was mysteriously on (and the night I discovered I had left the front door unlocked all weekend) and walked through all rooms and closets. Like how you went to WalMart and bought new windshield wipers for my car and installed them without me even knowing you were there because I told you about how one fell off while I was driving down the road. Like how you make me walk on the inside of the sidewalk, how you filter things you have heard and don’t tell me things that could hurt me, how you apply yourself to think of ways to carry hurts for me. You have demonstrated this one over and over again.

Love always trusts…like how you never question my relationships with other people and you never demand to read my emails or text messages. And because of that, I delight in opening my life to you. When I can’t tell you something because it was shared to me in confidence, you respect my commitment to keeping my mouth shut and don’t pressure me to know. What freedom you give me.

Love always hopes…and our relationship is golden with hopes and dreams. Every day is a brand new adventure. Every morning I wake up and wonder what the first thing you will say will be.

Love always perseveres… Even when I told you (on numerous occasions) “we” would never be, that I didn’t “feel that way” about you, that I didn’t even want to “feel that way,” you never gave up hope. You didn’t pressure me and you gave me space, but you were always there supporting, cheering, dreaming, loving, waiting.

So I say again to you what I said the first time you told me that you loved me (and I wasn’t ready to say it back yet)…
–“I know.”

unchanging

I've spent hours staring at a brick wall. Sometimes days....even years. The lesson God began teaching me over a year ago continues to come back around--the quiet voice that answers, "here I am" in the middle of so much noise and confusion still echoes in my heart when I expect it least.

I was reading in Psalm 46 this morning and God began opening my heart to the truth of verses 1 and 2 again. They've been some of my favorite verses ever since GT and the Halo Express helped me memorize them over a decade ago by putting them to music on a cassette tape geared toward children learning to face their fear. How like Him to speak yet again through something that has become so familiar, right?

I've started a log where I scribble down the verses that stand out to me when I'm reading the Word. Sometimes the Holy Spirit will lead me through a particular theme in what seems to be a random trek in the Word. The words that stuck out to me in Psalm 46:2 were "be removed":

"1 God is our refuge and strength,

A very present help in trouble.

2 Therefore we will not fear,

Even though the earth be removed,

And though the mountains be carried into the midst of the
sea;" ~Psalm 46:1-2 (my emphasis added)

I went back to the original Hebrew and found that this word is "muwr" which literally translates "to change, exchange, alter." So often I thought the psalmist was speaking of the obliteration of the world, when, in reality, he was speaking of the transient nature of circumstances.

The earth will one day be purged with fire before God descends to establish His heavenly city on the earth and dwell with us, but this is an exchange (His glory for our "reality"), not a termination of the world. What this reiterates, then, is the temporal nature of what seems so concrete to us. Stone walls and circumstances--they are flimsy in comparison to God, our refuge and strength.

Psalm 46:1 says that God is a very present--m@'od matsa'--help when we are distressed. M@'od means: exceedingly, much, might, force, and abundant. Matsa' means: to be found, to be encountered. What does this mean? Simply that, in contrast to our transient circumstances, our God is unchanging and steady, and in our distress, He is waiting to be found and encountered with might and abundance. His Presence is there for us to experience when things are going well, but He shows up excessively when His children are distressed.

I'm learning that the times I feel Him the least are the times He's most present and most active. I've come full-circle in life, and already have shed almost as many tears of gratitude and joy as I did of desolation. When we seek Him, He becomes our exceeding great reward, and the delight when we "find" Him far outweighs the grief of the journey.

Press on, friends. He's worth it.

modern-day psalm

Your Spirit hovers over the sea of humanity, eyes probing hearts and searching spirits. Do You see me? I'm waving frantically with the banner of love that You gave me. I want to draw Your eyes, even when they burn me alive.

Noah released a dove from the ark and it returned to him because there was no place for it to rest. You sent for the dove of Your Spirit and it settled on Your Son. I want to be Your resting place.

I don't want to be the one You love simply because that's Your nature; I want to be the one You know, who establishes relationship, who walks in intimacy. Heaven is Your throne, the earth is Your footstool--but Your habitation is in me.

Day by day, hour by hour, You lead me through the valley, up the mountain and back down again. Your rod and Your staff are the marks of Your authority--the scepter of the Shepherd. The rod of iron with which You judge the nations of the earth brings me joy and comfort.

Your discipline has made me glad. I am Somebody's daughter. Mercy and goodness are chasing me down. Your gentle love crowns my head, the brilliant diadem of Your family crest. Your humility has exalted me even as my life is forfeit, laid down before You.

My King is my Father. My Judge is my Shepherd. My sacrificial Lamb is the prevailing Lion. His Word is my bread, my life, my light, and my salvation. He is the Door, the Bread that came from Heaven, the Way where there is no other way, the Son of God, the One who was dead and is alive again forever.

May my soul sing out in the night in my sleep. May my mind realize that every breath not spent in praise is wasted. May my heart never swerve from its allegiance to one purpose. May my mouth choose gratitude over complaint. May my eyes keep covenant with my morals; my feet rush to promote peace; my hands remain open to give to those in need; my face turn always toward the Son; my ears ignore gossip that is none of my business; my nose delight in the fragrance of I AM; and may the stamp of the Most High mark my life.

May I be found loving with heart, soul, mind, and strength, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.

I have delighted in the goodness of the Lord. I have seen the provision of His hand. His love will overcome every distraction--every broken place in the darkness of my flesh. Crucified with Christ, buried in baptism, and now alive to know Him in the power of His resurrection.

Oh what a delight to live in the shadow of His wings.

Deliverer

I love the Lord;

He led me out with rejoicing.

He brought me forth with singing.

He delivered me.

He planted me--

An olive tree in His tabernacle,

And my fruit is the oil of joy.