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

I hate being nervous.

Stomach churning.  Skin tingling.  Sweating.  Shaking.

That shaking part is really not handy when you are a musician, particularly a pianist whose ten fingers have to play lots of keys within a short time span – like seconds.  Shaking just is not conducive to such a goal, you know?

The nerve thing is probably a good reason why embarking upon a solo career was not a good option for me, in addition to the fact that I just have tons more fun playing with a group of people – band, ensemble, etc.  Basically, anything where if I make a mistake no one will notice.

Ah, insecurity.  Gotta love it.

It has its roots in pride, though, doesn’t it?  Will they think less of me for messing that up?  I want them to know I’m better than that mistake!  I’m good at this, aren’t I?  Is my hair messed up?  Am I making a funny face as I play?  How do I look when I play?  I should have practiced more – maybe years more.  There is no way I can do this.  Wow, look at all those people out there, are they looking at me?  I’d better smile.

Um, hello?  *knock, knock*  Pride?  Let’s get a reality check, thankyouverymuch, before you get out of control.

Even self-defacing comments can be rooted in pride as the focus is inward, albeit detrimentally so, but not upward on Christ and the woman that He created me to be…ME!  How about we go over these one by one?

• Will they think less of me for messing up? Short answer – no.  Long answer – if they do, who cares?  Focus on Christ, remember?  The worship service is about worship.  It’s not about me, or them, or their thoughts about me or them.

Am I now trying to win the approval of men, or of God? Or am I trying to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ.  -Galatians 1:10

• I want them to know I’m better than that mistake! Huge pride check here.  Is it really necessary for them to know anything?  It’s all about Christ…and again, it’s not about me.  This natural talent and supernatural gift came only from God above and the letters after my name mean nothing when I am face down at His feet and/or humbly serving by using these gifts beside my brothers and sisters in Christ on a worship team.

I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. -Galatians 2:20

• I’m good at this, aren’t I? Me?  Who, me?  I am weak, and He is strong.  That’s all I need to know.  How about some more Scripture?

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. -2 Corinthians 12:9

• Is my hair messed up?  Am I making a funny face as I play?  How do I look when I play? Am I seriously worried about this in the middle of worship?  Wow.  I really shouldn’t be.  To think less of myself would be to criticize Him and His creation, for He created me just as He wanted me to be.  How dare I?

¹³ For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

¹⁴ I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.  -Psalm 139:13-14

• I should have practiced more – maybe years more.  There is no way I can do this. Yes, there is a responsibility to practice, to be skilled at what I do.  And then I trust Him and the Holy Spirit to take the music from there, beyond me and my weakness and into His strength.

¹ Sing joyfully to the LORD, you righteous;
it is fitting for the upright to praise him.

² Praise the LORD with the harp;
make music to him on the ten-stringed lyre.

³ Sing to him a new song;
play skillfully, and shout for joy. -Psalm 33:1-3

• Wow, look at all those people out there, are they looking at me?  I’d better smile. Worship.  Him.  Only.  They are not looking at me, no matter what my fleshly mind or the enemy wants to discourage and distract me with.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. -Mark 12:30

It seems only appropriate to end with…

²⁶But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you. ²⁷Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.  -John 14:26-27

God Stuff, Gulps

Anybody want an adorable 3-month old puppy, laid-back personality, loves to cuddle…but who does not have small children in the home?

Um, yeah.  You guessed it. *tears*  *lots and lots of tears*

Little cute guy, Cody, has exhibited some concerning agressive behavior towards my two-year-old daughter, and she is now sporting a nice bite on her knee.  But, bless her little heart, that girl knows no fear and what we thought might’ve been a strong reaction to perhaps a tail underfoot proved to be unprovoked aggression as things progressed.

My heart hurts.  I hurt for my little girl who was bitten, I hurt because of this dog who we have to return to the animal shelter and who I pray can be adopted into a home without small children, and I hurt because, well, I guess I feel guilty all the way around. Ugh.

I am so thankful that this particular “trait” was revealed before any terribly traumatic things could happen, though.  I praise Him for that.

I want Goldie back.

Gulps

For you dog lovers out there, did you ever have that one dog in your family that was just an amazing dog? A 0ne-of- a-kind who seemed to possess super-doggy powers?

When I was a kid, we had a dog named Duchess who was just that dog.  I think she was a Collie and German Shepherd mix, but she definitely favored a German Shepherd much more in appearance.  This dog loved us kids.  When we would swim in the swimming hole or the lake, she would swim in circles around us the entire time to protect us.  If we got tired while swimming, all we had to do was grab her tail and she’d take us right to shore.  

The funniest “protective” action she did was to chase thunder.   Every time a thunderstorm rolled through, she’d run as fast as she could up the hill barking as loud and fast as possible when it thundered.  As the rumbles died away, she would victoriously prance back a happy girl.  Then, the lightening would strike, the thunder rolled and off she would run again.  It was an endless cycle of vicousness and glee that was quite entertaining and endearing to watch.

(I know Dad has plenty more stories about Duchess and I do not remember them all – feel free to post those stories in the comments, Dad!)

Once I was a happily married woman living in the vibrant South and learning to say “bless her heart” with the best of ‘em, we had the opportunity to adopt a five-year-old Golden Retriever named Goldie.  From the moment we got her, we walked a path of medical mysteries, lost and found adventures, and utter sweetness.  She was our Duchess.  She died several weeks ago here at home and left us broken-hearted yet full and happy with memories.

She was the only dog I knew who thoroughly enjoyed visiting the veterinarians office.  She’d hop out of the car, tongue lolling with a goofy grin, and pull me right into the building.  I would have to restrain her from bolting through the inner door until the office staff could open that door and let her run in.  She always knew where to go – right around the corner to lay under the counter at their feet.  She was spoiled everywhere she went.  How could anyone not love her?  

Goldie

That vet’s office knew her well, and what an amazing office at that.  I remain thoroughly convinced we funded several staff vacations on Goldie’s bills alone.  That dog was one medical mystery after another…from clotting issues after her spay surgery to the bladder mystery that plagued her the last year of her life.   If she hadn’t have had the bladder issue, though, we would not have found the hip displacia.  Even after her death, that office was phenomenal in how they handled everything with such respect.

She never had symptoms of her hip problems until her last months.  Oh, she moved slower, sure, but the instant a lizard or squirrel crossed her path, Goldie instantly regressed nine years to a spry puppy and moved like the wind.  The rest of the time she grunted like the old woman she was.   This Jekyll-and-Hyde side of her always made us laugh.  Never underestimate the thrill of a chase, I guess.

Goldie also knew about respect and privacy.   If we spontaneously erupted into an, ahem, amorous moment, she’d quietly get up from her spot beside my side of the bed and step out of the room.  Once bedtime rolled around, and I was nearly asleep, I’d hear the jingle-jangle of her collar as she sauntered back to her comfy pillow.  

Then along came the kids.  She stepped into saint status in my book at this point.  During my struggle with postpartum depression, she was a sweet, calming companion for me and felt much as I did when my son was crying and I didn’t know what to do – we both would want to leave the room.  She adjusted so well to the new baby, but having the new sounds in her “room” was a bit much for her at first and I think she got mad at me.  She’d leave everytime my son cried.  Bless her heart.  (See?  So Southern…)

With both of my high-energy children and any visiting kids, she was a-m-a-z-i-n-g.  No amount of hair-pulling, climbing, ear-pulling or rough-housing would make her snap or bark.  Even in her later months when the pain in her hips was more apparent, she’d simply get up and move if she was bothered.    When either one of us would have to check on the kids in the middle of the night, we usually would find her curled up outside my son’s door or in between their doors.  That always made me feel good.   It was clear she loved those kids, too.

Golly, did she know how to get lost!  Lightening, thunder, fireworks, power outages, flashlights, beeping sounds or anything remotely related sent her into spasms of anxiety.  If we were not careful and she was outside during such occurences, she’d dig out under the fence until she found a kind soul to love on her.  Fortunately, we live near amazing dog-lovers and we always got her back.  It was our routine to stay home for New Years Eve and Fourth of July because we would need to be here to administer prescribed “doggy-downers” (as I lovingly dubbed her anti-anxiety meds) and keep her calm during the inevitable sound and light nightmare, as she perceived it.  Even now, I hear thunder and I glance around waiting to see her walk up to my side, shaking, hearing the tinkle of her collar tags.

As I clean the house, I miss my Goldie3000 the most – the most powerful vacuum besides my beloved Dyson.  There is nothing like having your floor spit-cleaned by your dog’s tongue after your kids’ every meal and snack.  I think it was her favorite time of day, too.  I miss my doorbell and bodyguard.  Her ears would perk up and I would know someone was at my door or in my driveway.  When I would have to be home alone with a repairman, she was my bodyguard – albeit a friendly-let-me-lick-you-all-over-I’m-no-bodyguard kind of bodyguard, but she made me feel better nonetheless.  

What an amazing dog.  She had a zillion lives when it came to being lost then found, but only one unique soul.  As I read my Bible, I come across Scriptures here and there that convince me more and more that I am going to see this precious girl, and my Duchess, in Heaven.  If God in Heaven knows the very stars by name and the hairs on my head and has His eye on the sparrow, then He knows my Goldie and my Duchess and loves them both.  

When I was a child, I had my Duchess.  My kids have their Goldie.   And we will see them again.  

Did you ever have that one amazing pet in your life?    A pet that seemed to be more than “just” a pet?

Growing Up, Gulps

Yesterday afternoon, we came home from running errands and as I pulled up, I spotted a large yellow envelope by the front door.  It was from our veterinarian’s office.  I was not sure what it could be, but I knew I would cry either way.

Inside the envelope was the children’s book Dog Heaven by Cynthia Rylant and a notecard.  The card was a kind note letting us know that the office had a made a donation to University of Florida School of Veterinary Medicine in honor of Goldie.  We were very blessed by the gesture.  That office took incredibly good care of Goldie from the time we had her – and if that is a college that produces such excellent professionals, then I am happy.

Tears burned my eyes and I tried desperately to blink them back so that the kids would not see them.  G especially is sensitive to sadness.  As Chris unloaded the mountain of groceries from the car, I stepped inside the house and opened the book.  

I was stunned when I opened the front cover.  Inside were personal notes from all of the staff and the doctor to us, comforting us at the loss of our beloved pet.  I read through each and every one at least twice as I hiccupped through my tears.   I cannot begin to express how much that meant to us.   

I am becoming more and more convinced that Goldie will be waiting for each of us when we get to Heaven, bouncing on all four legs just like she did here, with that happy-go-lucky expression on her face.  These are a few of the thoughts that have crossed my mind as I’ve thought about animals in Heaven…

• God did create them.  All of them.  And He said that it was good.  (Genesis 1:25)
• Jesus comes back riding a horse.  (Thanks to Ken Mann for mentioning that one!)  (Revelation 19:11-16)
• When God commanded Noah to build an ark, there were eight humans on board.  Eight.  How many animals were there?  Seven pairs of the clean animals, one pair each of the unclean animals, and seven pairs of each kind of bird.  All the animals.  The ark was built to save eight humans and lots of animals.  (Genesis 7)
• Luke 12:6  ”Are not five sparrows sold for two cents? Yet not one of them is forgotten before God…”

And I think that is just the beginning.

Then I was looking up on Amazon the Dog Heaven book so I could link it here, and up pops a few books written by Christians about animals and Heaven and what the Bible has to say about that topic.  Wow!  I added them to my shopping cart and hope to get them soon.  Meanwhile, I will do some searching on my own, too.

But I’m still not sure I’ll ever really love cats.   Perhaps it’s because my lungs have a tendency to close up when I am around them.  I’ll probably like them in Heaven then because I know I will not have this broken body anymore but instead a new one that works perfectly.

And so does Goldie.  No hip problems, no arthritis…just running free.

Gulps