I saw this on Marriage Monday over at Chrysalis blog hosted by e-mom.  The ladies there are writing love letters to their husbands and posting them on their blogs.  It must be a forgotten art once you’ve been married for several years.  So why post it “publicly”?  We are committed in our marriage and we were before we even said the vows before friends, family, neighbors and God Himself.  If I can say those vows in front of others at a “public” ceremony, I can publicly post what I so dearly love about my husband (boundaries included).  *deep breath*  Here we go!

Dearest Chris,

Where do I start?  Almost eleven years this month we have been together, first as friends, then as spouses.  It tickles me to no end to think on all those questions from our friends when we were “hanging out” – are you and Chris dating?  are you a couple?

“No, no, no…he’s not my type, just a great friend.”

I’m thrilled beyond words to know that after eleven years we are still great friends.

You are patient, you are kind.  Generous almost to a fault.  I love that about you.

I have never known you to be envious or proud.  Confident in what you do, but never proud.

You are not rude or self-seeking, you always are thinking of our children and me first and foremost.

You are not easily angered and I’m so thankful you keep no record book of all my faults and wrongs.  You certainly exhibit the love, grace, and mercy of Christ in all that you do.  What a wonderful example for our children.

You keep evil far from you, even to the potential ridicule of others in this world that is not our own.  I am always more thankful than words can express for the high standards that you hold yourself to.  I am blessed.

You protect us, you trust where trust is due but do not trust when it is in our best interest to protect us.  What a fine line to walk and what wisdom you carry.

Thank you for laughing with me, holding me when I cry, caring for me when migraine pain attacks, persevering with hope when I was so sick after the birth of our son (that requires a love letter all its own!), giving of yourself to others, being such a great home repair guru, and for being such a great daddy to our children.  To see them so excited when you walk in the door is a clear reminder that you are loved, cherished, and rock their world.  Heck, even the dog gets excited when you get home.

And so do I.

I love you.

For husbands, this means love your wives, just as Christ loved the church. He gave up his life for her ²⁶ to make her holy and clean, washed by the cleansing of God’s word.^{[b] 27} He did this to present her to himself as a glorious church without a spot or wrinkle or any other blemish. Instead, she will be holy and without fault. ²⁸ In the same way, husbands ought to love their wives as they love their own bodies. For a man who loves his wife actually shows love for himself. ²⁹ No one hates his own body but feeds and cares for it, just as Christ cares for the church. ³⁰ And we are members of his body. -Ephesians 5:25-30

A few months before we were married...

A few months ago...

God of My Story, Growing Up, Gulps

Continued from “Shoeless”…

I think the Holy Spirit whispered to me.

Shouted at me.

Hit me over the head, maybe?

I was sitting in that booth in Panera, sipping my tea from a real mug, reading Wild Choose Chase by Mark Batterson when I felt a spiritual thump.  These words crossed my eyes:

Earth’s crammed with Heaven,

And every common bush afire with God;

But only he who sees takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.  -Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Um, what was that again?

Earth’s crammed with Heaven,

And every common bush afire with God;

But only he who sees takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.  -Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I read it over one more time.  Just to be sure, you know.

Huh, interesting timing.  I pondered this in my head throughout the day.  Later that afternoon, I checked Facebook and Heather had posted the following in her status:

Earth’s crammed with Heaven,

And every common bush afire with God;

But only he who sees takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.  -Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Look familiar?  Yea, thought so.

Thump.

Ok, God, I’m listening.  I’m noticing.  I’m meditating.  What do You want me to do about it?

I continued reading Wild Goose Chase and the battering never stopped!

I think this is one of those stories in which the obvious can elude us.  The holy ground wasn’t the Promised Land.  It was right where Moses was standing.  Don’t wait to worship God till you get to the Promised Land;  you’ve got to worship along the way.  This is holy ground.  This is a holy moment.  Take off your sandals.

Why did God tell Moses to take off his sandals?  I think it was God’s way of saying “Be still and know that I am God.”  (Psalm 46:10)

Let’s not talk about the fact that Psalm 46:10 had been on my heart constantly for several weeks.  Next, I talked to my husband about what I had been reading and pondering.

Chris: Here’s another thought.  What do you do when you go into someone else’s house?

Me:  Um, make myself at home?  Or don’t touch?  (I am a mom of preschoolers after all…)

Chris: You take off your shoes and stay awhile.

Loved that.  Worship.  Holiness.  Holy Ground.  Be Still and Know.  Home.  Friend..

Fast forward to Sunday Morning…as I drove into the sunrise to soundcheck and rehearsal, this is what you would’ve heard if you were hearing my thoughts:

What if the people think I’m wierd for taking off my shoes?  Do my feet look decent enough?  How’s the toenail polish?  When should I take off my shoes?  Do I wear them onto the stage then slip them off or take them off in the green room?  Will anyone notice?  I don’t want them to think I have a “holier than thou” attitude.

Because it’s all about Me, you know.

Not me.

It was time for the worship service to begin.  We prayed together and headed on stage, my flip-flops flip-flopping all the way.  I heard and felt the slap of black leather on my feet.  I stepped behind the keyboard and plugged in my “in-ears” and made sure all my settings were correct on the keyboard and the music on the right page.

Then I slipped off my shoes.

It was surprisingly humbling.  Very humbling.

I felt the warm, rough carpet and the cold metal sustain pedal.  And I was reminded of who I serve, of Who my Master is and why I stand on that stage helping to lead in worship my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ with a talent that I am humbled and blessed beyond measure to have.  I serve Him alone.  I do not want to run away for this is not a Master to run from.  He is a Master I want to run to.

I want to take off my shoes and stay awhile.

God Stuff, God of My Story

⁵ “Do not come any closer,” God said. “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.”  -Exodus 3:5

My sandals were starting to become uncomfortable.  I slipped them off and pushed them to the side with my toes, further under the keyboard stand.  As I rehearsed the worship set for Sunday with the rest of the band, I kept feeling the stage carpet against my left foot and the ice-cold metal sustain pedal on the bottom of my right foot.

It wasn’t unusual for me to play in rehearsal with no shoes on – I’d done it before.  You know, if the feet hurt, the shoes come off.  Our worship pastor had even asked if I usually played with my shoes off because he’d seen some who do that because of personal convictions.  I shook my head no, not me.

As I played through songs that praised Him for his holiness (a contemporary arrangement of Holy, Holy, Holy for one), I began to ask that question that plagues all mothers of toddlers and preschoolers, “Why?”

Why did God ask Moses to take of his sandals?

If God granted the knowledge for shoes to be created, then why take them off?

Did it have more to do with Moses’ heart?

Did God want a proverbial barrier removed between Himself and Moses?

I wanted a deeper “why.”  I’ve come to learn that everything about God and Scripture involves so many beautiful layers and intricacies that boggle the mind.  Surely there had to be more?

So I posted my question on Facebook – that great repository of friends with knowledge and wisdom who might be willing to think this through with me.  Here are some of the amazing responses:

That’s an interesting question, Tara. When I think about things like this I look at the overall context of the verse within the rest of the chapter. And, even more importantly in some cases, the culture and/or society at the time. My guess, though I don’t know this, is that this could be a cultural thing. In places considered holy by the Jews it’s possible that they took their shoes off. So in this case, I believe (sorry don’t have a Bible in front of me for the conplete context) Moses is approaching the burning bush but doesn’t yet know it is God. So God tells him to remove his shoes because this is a holy place. That would be the clue to Moses that this burning bush is God.  -KSB

I have never thought of this, Tara. I like thinking this way though. This is how the great theological minds learn and gain new understanding of God. Praise Him that He allows us to question Him.

I have always just assumed it was an outward show of respect, to remove the dirt of the unholy ground before standing in God’s presence.  -H.T.

Totally not related to my comment above exactly but may provide some more insite, when my great-grandfather was buried my mother was pregnant with my sister. Because he was Jewish and buried in a Jewish cemetary my mother was not allowed into the actual cemetary (she stood outside) because she was carrying new life. I don’t know the basis of this belief, but basically the Jews believed that new life should not be within a place where there is death (i.e. the cemetary). Not having been raised Jewish I’m not totally familiar with all the beliefs, I just know bits and pieces. -KSB

Tara, I’m down with your no-barrier thought, but also, I think that since the shoes wade through all the muck and garbage so our feet don’t have to, that by removing them, you’re removing the filth in the presence of God. So maybe it’s symbolic of not only removing a barrier, but also acknowledging that there should be no filth, or sin, in His presence. Removing the filthy part is an attempt, however pathetic as we can’t remove anything on our own without his Holy hand, to purify oneself before Him. I definitely get the ‘don’t come any closer part,’ though, because to see Him clearly would be to spontaneously combust in pure awe! Not a pleasant end to the day, I would guess. Or possibly the best ending of all to see God and then find yourself in Heaven because your body couldn’t handle it!  -D.S.S

OK Tara, went digging in my “Dictionary of Biblical Imagery” and found some neat tidbits: wearing shoes signified freedom therefore going barefoot was a sign of slavery or of being beholden to another. Also bare feet symbolize one’s inner state, serving as an image of spiritual poverty- another reference to slavery. The last reason listed is simply for reverence. The only two times God requires the removal of shoes are for Moses and for Joshua when he was confirmed as the “new’ Moses. Only priests with ceremoniously washed feet could enter God’s presence and the men were most likely wearing sandals made of animal skins which would be difficult to cleanse….for people on stage now I think it’s more the spiritual poverty thing- it also feels strange and will help you remember just exactly why you’re playing/singing. Does that help at all?  -J.C.C.

I forgot to type the fact that slaves were kept barefoot so as to limit their chance of survival if they ever did escape. So going barefoot on purpose would be a very meaningful symbol of your heart’s desire. -J.C.C.

My husband thinks Facebook can be socially destructive, but in this case it was fantastic!  Many more commented how the information touched them as well.  See, God can work through Facebook, too.

A couple of days later, I am reading Wild Goose Chase by Mark Batterson and this quote  nearly jumped out and bit me…

Go here to read part 2 of Shoeless…

God Stuff, God of My Story

I was driving towards my Bible study group meeting last night and the view in front of me was similar to this photo.   Except for the mountains.  And all the green.  And the scenic winding road.  My scene was a four-lane highway, random buildings, and flat.  Lots and lots of flatness.

So really the rainbow is the only similarity.

I am always, always amazed at rainbows.  What an incredible result of the sun shining through droplets of water in the atmosphere.   How some people think this happens by chance is beyond me.  God’s handiwork is everywhere.

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse. -Romans 1:20

The rainbow I saw was a complete rainbow and it felt like I was going to drive straight through, almost as if under its protection – the protection of God’s promises.

I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life.  Whenever the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and all living creatures of every kind on the earth. -Genesis 9:15-16

His sun, shining through the rain and the storm, to illuminate the sign of His promise to us.  His Son.  It always reminds that He is so faithful to me, even when I am perpetually not.  It reminds me that His promises will never fail.  It reminds that He is there on the stormy days to provide not only a light to show me the way, but an incredible manifestation of that light that only God could make.

Rainbows always bring me joy.

I have a distinct memory about a rainbow from high school, I believe.  I was at a gas station in a larger town near my home when someone pointed out to me the amazing double rainbow.  I passed on the word to someone else.  I noticed everyone at this large gas station/convenience was talking excitedly, with joy, about the amazing rainbow above us.

Then we all got in our cars and drove away.

For a moment, however, we shared the joy of colorful miracle of light on a stormy day, in awe at the work of God’s hands.  What a fraction of that ultimate joy we will have when we see Him again, with lights more amazing than rainbows even.  I, again, look forward to sharing that joy with others.

¹²I turned around to see the voice that was speaking to me. And when I turned I saw seven golden lampstands,¹³and among the lampstands was someone “like a son of man,”^[b]dressed in a robe reaching down to his feet and with a golden sash around his chest. ¹⁴His head and hair were white like wool, as white as snow, and his eyes were like blazing fire. ¹⁵His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and his voice was like the sound of rushing waters. ¹⁶In his right hand he held seven stars, and out of his mouth came a sharp double-edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance.

¹⁷When I saw him, I fell at his feet as though dead. Then he placed his right hand on me and said: “Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. ¹⁸I am the Living One; I was dead, and behold I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and Hades. – Revelation 1:12-18

God Stuff, God of My Story

a three-word phrase divided into thirds and then expounded upon. . .

ONE MORE TIME

Oh, this one just makes me laugh!  I must say this phrase at least one-hundred and twenty-seven times a day.  Even as I type this, the kids are in the sandbox and not doing their best at listening to instructions.  The words coming out of my mouth are, “If I have to tell you one more time…”

Maybe my kids should write this post.

One

I am glad we didn’t have just one child.  After we had G, we debated having another child for about a year.  Our great fear was going through postpartum depression again.  It was awful, enough to scare you from doing a lot of things ever again.  Including having children.  Especially having more children.

One weekend, we finally decided we were done.  We just could not do it.  We were happy with our family of four:  Chris, myself, G, and our dog.  Yup, happy.  My friend, Mindy, had just found out she was pregnant so I packed up all my pregnancy stuff for her.  They were coming for dinner and I’d hand it all over.  It seemed like a momentous moment in life.  Really, just one?  All done?

We told Mindy and Shawn, laughingly, that we were done having kids, we were happy with one, and handed over all my pregnancy paraphenelia.  That was Saturday night.  I relieved.  The decision was made.

God laughed.  You see, never tell God your plans  Your plans.  He is sovereign.  I am so glad.

The very next morning as I was getting ready for church, I dimly realized my period (sorry, men) was pretty late.  Wait, were my breasts still hurting?  Huh?  Nooooo……    I fumbled under the bathroom sink for a pregnancy test (infertility helps you stock up on these things).  I had one left.

No three minutes necessary.  It was instantly positive.  I didn’t read the instructions only one time.  Nope, I read them a hundred times.  As if I hadn’t read them a hundred times before.  Sheesh.  My breath left me and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

One more?  Really, Lord?  

I stumbled to the living room where Chris was entertaining G.  It was 6am.  ”Um, honey, I think I’m pregnant.”

“No way.  It’s got to be wrong.”

“Uh, nope, they aren’t typically wrong when they are positive.”

I still went to the 24-hour Walgreens and bought two more tests.  One more wasn’t enough.  I even bought the dummy-proof digital response that said “Yes” or “No.”  I didn’t trust myself to compare a plus or minus or circle or square or read directions a hundred times again.

Instantly positive.  Yup, we were having one more child.  One more pregnancy.  

I was terrified, excited, terrified, and in awe.  A surprise pregnancy after needing medical assistance to get pregnant the first time is quite an unusual feeling!  I didn’t feel so broken!

We are blessed beyond words to have our daughter S.  It wasn’t easy, but wow – her zest for life is contagious, her energy is enormous, and we are thrilled that God has better plans for us than we do.  

She is my one today.  

More

Nope, no more children.  In case you were wondering.  Snip, snip.  All done, with acknowledgment that God is the author of life and can even work past snip, snips.

Time

Time to grow.  I keep waiting for my kids to grow and for me to grow.  I keep thinking I’ll finally get something and I still need more time.  I’m so glad my God is so patient and faithful to me even when I am not.  I am glad for time, but time is also precious.  We don’t have as much time as we think we do.

To participate in Thursday Threesome, head on over to Wild Olive Shoot.  Fun stuff!

God of My Story