I was practically born in church.
No, really.
My mom went into labor at church in Honolulu just three weeks after her 21st birthday, and I probably spent more time in church or participating in church-related events throughout my childhood than I did anything else.
If you've read any of my other entries, you know by now that I'm extremely competitive, and I also happen to be a recovering people pleaser- so add all that up and I DOMINATED memory verse challenges.
Every.
Single.
One.
I would recite the Scripture, and then mentally spike God's word and do a Baptist-approved victory dance, which probably consisted of clapping to Victory in Jesus just a little off the beat and 'smiling with my eyes.' I would ask for forgiveness after peeking through my fingers during the closing prayer. I'd run through the sanctuary when people weren't looking. I'd take seconds of cheesy potatoes and act like it was my first helping. And I'd memorize Bible verses for praise and candy.
Between church and my awesome godly parents, I was daily immersed in God's word. Scripture was woven into my mind and memory, as well as my pillow case and most of my screen printed tees. As a parent, I'm more thankful for this than I ever have been. God promises that His word doesn't return void, and that if we hide His words in our heart, it will help guide our path. I don't regret learning a single verse, and if I'm being honest, I don't regret a single helping of cheesy potatoes either.
I love cheesy potatoes.
All that said- pounding something into the short and even long term memory does not guarantee change, it doesn't touch your heart until your heart is ready. In my case, I was so accustomed to the language that I got lazy and began to callous myself to the truth, and the truth behind the truth. I wouldn't say I stopped appreciating my salvation, but I definitely numbed myself to the gravity of God's greatest gift, and that's bad potatoes folks. Rotten...left in the bottom of the pantry...search desperately for the source of the smell for 44 days bad potatoes.
The thing with rotten potatoes is that they not only destroy your chance at enjoying the potatoes, but they also fill the rest of the pantry with a stench that ruins your appetite for anything inside. The smell makes it hard to want to try, why go to all the trouble of cooking at all? So you just settle for Chinese takeout. Money out, carbs and MSG in. Bad potatoes=no good for your health. Revelation says that the Church of Ephesus left their first love, and I think that's a little like bad potatoes. I might be reaching on this analogy. Just go with it.
Anyway, I felt distance between God and I, and it felt like maybe I'd lost my first love. I realized that it wasn't bothering me like it should and this was a problem, so I got to fixing my problem. I tried to stimulate my emotions by digging into the details of the crucifixion. If I could understand the physical pain Christ endured a little better, maybe I'd be given renewed purpose.
Side note: I tend to tread lightly on the 'stimulating emotions' topic all together. Growing up, I stood tall on the fact that Faith is not feelings. True, it's not, but I now have a healthier understanding of why God built me to have the emotions and feelings that I have. I believe He was intentional about emotion, and it is absolutely part of the designed creation that we are. It's often noted that Jesus wept, and more than that-- I bet he laughed. Side note on my side note (it's my blog, I'm allowed): When I'm in the darkest moments of my days, I think about Jesus laughing. It overwhelms me. That might be just me. Moving on- I also believe God sometimes draws us to Him through emotion, He wants us to feel Him. I do believe that emotions must be checked and not always acted on, and Faith is not based on emotions, but I truly wish having emotion or being emotional wasn't always portrayed in such a negative light, it's a fine line... just saying. Okay I'm done.
Back to my quest for understanding. I tried to study the pain Christ probably suffered to put things in perspective, but it wasn't the physical torment that woke me back up to Salvation. Watching the Passion of the Christ isn't a fix for complacency. I then tried to listen to different sermons talking about why it's just peaches to have a relationship with Christ. I heard some preachers touch on the do's and don'ts and why we need to strive for holiness. I thought yes, but being called a good person isn't a good enough reason to give my life to someone. If I wasn't already a believer, I wouldn't want to give up a life of doing what I want right or wrong for a good-person medal, or slap on the back. Other preachers would talk about how God will bless your life if you live for Him. Okay but come on, I knew that. I believe it, and it's great, but the possibility of a blessed life didn't awaken my passion either. The most articulate, eloquent preacher couldn't help me rediscover the fire I needed. Notice all the "I" in these attempts?
Then one night I was reading in I Corinthians 2, and something in me stirred. Paul writes, "And I, when I came to you, brothers, did not come proclaiming to you the testimony of God with lofty speech or wisdom. 2 For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. 3 And I was with you in weakness and in fear and much trembling, 4 and my speech and my message were not in plausible words of wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, 5 so that your faith might not rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God." Wait. So I couldn't revive my own soul? Answers weren't the answer? I was then reminded of a passage in I John. "See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are." So if I approach Him humbly, He'll do the rest simply because He loves me?
It wasn't about being inspired by fancy words, it wasn't about being motivated by possibilities of blessings, it wasn't about being frightened into submission by man-made standards...it has always been about being loved by Jesus. Paul says he didn't come with lofty speech or wisdom, he purposed to know nothing except Yeshua, Jesus. It's always about Jesus, it's always about Love. We love him because HE FIRST LOVED US. He started this love thing, and let me just tell you little lady-- Love is bigger than any motivational sermon or possible reward could ever be. Chapter 2 goes on to explain that we as natural people cannot even comprehend this Love, it's conveyed to us through the Spirit as only the Spirit understands God's unconditional love for us.
Wow! When trying to renew purpose in my Christian walk, I assumed I needed to simply gaze at the Cross or try figure out why I was given what I was given on my own. While the Cross is where the Love came to earth, Love didn't stay there, and neither can my relationship with Love. The Cross is just the beginning! It's like ending In Christ Alone after the 'here in the death of Christ I stand' verse.
Gasp
He didn't die for me and stay dead, He rose and now while He prepares my home in Heaven, He left me with His Spirit. He speaks with me, He mediates with the Father on my behalf, He cares what I'm up to and how I'm feeling. He understands what I'm up to and how I'm feeling. He's perfect, and yet He loves me enough to forgive me every time I hurt Him if I'll just ask. He dries my tears, He picks me up, He laughs with me, He holds me. That's why I want to live for Him. Not only did my Savior die to save me, but He wants to walk with me so I'm never alone. He promises to be here with me until I get to see Him face to face. He has written me in the palm of His hand. He delights in me, I'm His child. He doesn't just want my decision to accept Him, He wants a relationship with me.
I'm rambling, but is this making sense? Salvation isn't just about being saved from hell, it's about being saved from having to live a life without Jesus. Eternal life with Jesus starts the day we take Him as our Savior. To me, it's beautiful and incomprehensible. Back to the Truth, back to Jesus. Why? Because He loves you with a love you've never known.
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Happy Fathers Day!
I've never known where the apostrophe is supposed to go with salutations like "Happy Mothers Day" or "Happy Fathers Day." I bet my husband would know, that's one of the reasons I love my English-correcting German--here are the rest.
Andy is a special kind of father. Where most of us are either called to career or home-life, Andy is beyond excellent at both. He's one of the only men I know that can manage three boys under 5 while going to school full time and possessing unlimited understanding with all of the flexibility my career requires. I need to be in Nevada for 5 days and then New Orleans for 4 and then I'm sorry but I have three events this week so I'll try and be home by bedtime to help if I can. Does he ever complain? Does he ever whine about all the responsibility that lands on his plate? Nope! He's a Dean's List honored, butt wiping boss.
Andy knows how to properly utilize caffeine. He gets up and makes coffee and manages the day. He doesn't require naps. He then either makes more coffee or an energy mix from the gym and buckles up for school when I get home so he can finish whatever the boys didn't allow him to during the day. Again, no complaining, just doing what's got to be done. How does he do this? Caffeine.
Andy is EVERYONE'S favorite. Between being the "golden boy" of his family, the only reason my siblings visit, or the undisputed preferred parent- the party just isn't a party until Andy graces us all with his presence- and trust me, I'm jealous. I TRY to entertain, I TRY to be funny, but people light up when Andy shows up, and he knows it. You won't find low self awareness on any list of Andy's attributes, but I love that too.
Andy is an incredible cook. The boys and I would survive on a menu of grilled cheese and Golden Grahams if it weren't for him. My idea of 'trying extra hard' on a meal is Homestyle Mac & Cheese ... you know, the mac with the bread crumbs on top? One time when my inlaws were on their way, I ordered 6 individual servings of pasta from Dominos and put it in a 9x13 pan in my cold oven so it would appear that I cooked something delicious-other than frozen lasagna. Sorry Stauffer's, but they can tell. Judge away, but if you ate something my mother in-law cooked or even Andy, you would be intimidated into such ridiculous antics too. My mother in-law's dinners melt in your mouth, and Andy's are equally impressive. It's gotten to where when he asks me for help in the kitchen I instantly get a little sweaty and shaky. I'd rather present a new idea to a 40 year veteran purchasing agent then over-toast an English Muffin in La Kitchen De Andrew. "Em, how long has that baby ravioli been cooking?"
I panic.
"Yes Chef!
I mean.. no Chef!
Somewhere between 2 and 11 minutes, Chef!"
He made eggs benedict last week completely out of scratch right down to the Hollandaise, and after he finished and we devoured it, he let me know that not only had he never even tried eggs benedict before, but he was also adding it to his monthly menu and calling it "Eggs Benny" from now on. My best friends had a housewarming party last weekend and A called me to ask Andy could make a couple dips for it. When I go to the grocery store he sends me pictures of the exact ingredients he's looking for so I don't accidently buy bagged sauerkraut again or pre-cooked brats. He's nice about it, but I only go shopping with an entire text thread of pictures now. I hit strike three in 2009 and never looked back. Goodview Court is a yummy place to live, thanks to the man.
Andy's a big picture guy. This is a quality I never would've thought of praying for in a husband, but God knew and I'm so very, very thankful. We started dating at a young age, and we were 6 hours apart. In all honesty, I figured at best we'd write a letter or two and fizzle out, but Andy knew what he wanted and could look farther down the road than most 16 year olds. I remember writing a letter to him in December that year and saying that I couldn't believe we were staying in touch, his reply letter started with the line, "Really? I knew that as long as you wanted to we'd be talking." He also claims he told his cousin in 7th grade while meeting me at camp for a couple days that he would one day marry me. I'm not sure that's big picture as much as creepily prophetic. Either way it's adorable and I'm down. Since then, we've faced trials including but not limited to- financial stresses where we skipped meals to feed our little Charlie and donated plasma to pay the electric bill, my unemployment, the dangerously early birth of all three of our children, the death of his grandfather, and my moving our whole family on the hopes that I could run a company with no construction experience. Not once has he wavered, not once has he doubted. When I feel like the entire world is crashing down he gently reminds me that God hasn't scheduled the destruction of the planet until after the 7 year tribulation, and we won't be here for that. He will be that direct and matter-of-fact too, on account of the simple fact that Andy's German.
Andy's German. This isn't my favorite thing about him, but it does come in handy, sometimes. Other times, it's difficult--like when I want to win an argument or pick the radio station. But, I knew this about him when I met him, and I like that he's strong. So that's all I'm going to say about his being German...except that I'm really tired of pickled sausages and sauerkraut. They stink and look completely disgusting. There, I'm done.
This will surprise no one that knows him, but Andy's funny...hilarious, actually. He can make anyone laugh anytime, and I'm his biggest fan. He once told me (this may fall under the he's German category) that his favorite part about me is that I think he's funny. It's true though! He can have me belly-laughing after my hardest day over his impression of one of the boys, or his 'Yak' call. He's been making me laugh with the yak call since 2005. Ask him to do it sometime, you won't regret it. He listens well, and he's very intuitive and observant and he'll make you laugh at yourself before you even realized you do the habit he's observed you doing. One time I had to leave church because he told me that I involuntarily keep my head on a constant swivel as the worship starts because I like to see who's at church that day. His impression was so funny that I walked out and completely skipped communion.
Overall, I love my husband. We're a team, we've only ever needed the Lord and each other to be okay or have a good time. In years past, men were known solely as providers and protectors, and Andy is that but so much more. He provides our family with the leadership and strength we need, and as cheesy as this sounds- I'm never afraid of what comes because I've got the God of the universe on my side, and He's given me someone on earth that takes the scariest things in life and makes them look like nothing compared to what we can handle.
So- Happy Fathers day to all the fathers out there, but I win. I have God, I have my wonderful earthly father, and I have a German I call my best friend. Boom.
Andy is a special kind of father. Where most of us are either called to career or home-life, Andy is beyond excellent at both. He's one of the only men I know that can manage three boys under 5 while going to school full time and possessing unlimited understanding with all of the flexibility my career requires. I need to be in Nevada for 5 days and then New Orleans for 4 and then I'm sorry but I have three events this week so I'll try and be home by bedtime to help if I can. Does he ever complain? Does he ever whine about all the responsibility that lands on his plate? Nope! He's a Dean's List honored, butt wiping boss.
Andy knows how to properly utilize caffeine. He gets up and makes coffee and manages the day. He doesn't require naps. He then either makes more coffee or an energy mix from the gym and buckles up for school when I get home so he can finish whatever the boys didn't allow him to during the day. Again, no complaining, just doing what's got to be done. How does he do this? Caffeine.
Andy is EVERYONE'S favorite. Between being the "golden boy" of his family, the only reason my siblings visit, or the undisputed preferred parent- the party just isn't a party until Andy graces us all with his presence- and trust me, I'm jealous. I TRY to entertain, I TRY to be funny, but people light up when Andy shows up, and he knows it. You won't find low self awareness on any list of Andy's attributes, but I love that too.
Andy is an incredible cook. The boys and I would survive on a menu of grilled cheese and Golden Grahams if it weren't for him. My idea of 'trying extra hard' on a meal is Homestyle Mac & Cheese ... you know, the mac with the bread crumbs on top? One time when my inlaws were on their way, I ordered 6 individual servings of pasta from Dominos and put it in a 9x13 pan in my cold oven so it would appear that I cooked something delicious-other than frozen lasagna. Sorry Stauffer's, but they can tell. Judge away, but if you ate something my mother in-law cooked or even Andy, you would be intimidated into such ridiculous antics too. My mother in-law's dinners melt in your mouth, and Andy's are equally impressive. It's gotten to where when he asks me for help in the kitchen I instantly get a little sweaty and shaky. I'd rather present a new idea to a 40 year veteran purchasing agent then over-toast an English Muffin in La Kitchen De Andrew. "Em, how long has that baby ravioli been cooking?"
I panic.
"Yes Chef!
I mean.. no Chef!
Somewhere between 2 and 11 minutes, Chef!"
He made eggs benedict last week completely out of scratch right down to the Hollandaise, and after he finished and we devoured it, he let me know that not only had he never even tried eggs benedict before, but he was also adding it to his monthly menu and calling it "Eggs Benny" from now on. My best friends had a housewarming party last weekend and A called me to ask Andy could make a couple dips for it. When I go to the grocery store he sends me pictures of the exact ingredients he's looking for so I don't accidently buy bagged sauerkraut again or pre-cooked brats. He's nice about it, but I only go shopping with an entire text thread of pictures now. I hit strike three in 2009 and never looked back. Goodview Court is a yummy place to live, thanks to the man.
Andy's a big picture guy. This is a quality I never would've thought of praying for in a husband, but God knew and I'm so very, very thankful. We started dating at a young age, and we were 6 hours apart. In all honesty, I figured at best we'd write a letter or two and fizzle out, but Andy knew what he wanted and could look farther down the road than most 16 year olds. I remember writing a letter to him in December that year and saying that I couldn't believe we were staying in touch, his reply letter started with the line, "Really? I knew that as long as you wanted to we'd be talking." He also claims he told his cousin in 7th grade while meeting me at camp for a couple days that he would one day marry me. I'm not sure that's big picture as much as creepily prophetic. Either way it's adorable and I'm down. Since then, we've faced trials including but not limited to- financial stresses where we skipped meals to feed our little Charlie and donated plasma to pay the electric bill, my unemployment, the dangerously early birth of all three of our children, the death of his grandfather, and my moving our whole family on the hopes that I could run a company with no construction experience. Not once has he wavered, not once has he doubted. When I feel like the entire world is crashing down he gently reminds me that God hasn't scheduled the destruction of the planet until after the 7 year tribulation, and we won't be here for that. He will be that direct and matter-of-fact too, on account of the simple fact that Andy's German.
Andy's German. This isn't my favorite thing about him, but it does come in handy, sometimes. Other times, it's difficult--like when I want to win an argument or pick the radio station. But, I knew this about him when I met him, and I like that he's strong. So that's all I'm going to say about his being German...except that I'm really tired of pickled sausages and sauerkraut. They stink and look completely disgusting. There, I'm done.
This will surprise no one that knows him, but Andy's funny...hilarious, actually. He can make anyone laugh anytime, and I'm his biggest fan. He once told me (this may fall under the he's German category) that his favorite part about me is that I think he's funny. It's true though! He can have me belly-laughing after my hardest day over his impression of one of the boys, or his 'Yak' call. He's been making me laugh with the yak call since 2005. Ask him to do it sometime, you won't regret it. He listens well, and he's very intuitive and observant and he'll make you laugh at yourself before you even realized you do the habit he's observed you doing. One time I had to leave church because he told me that I involuntarily keep my head on a constant swivel as the worship starts because I like to see who's at church that day. His impression was so funny that I walked out and completely skipped communion.
Overall, I love my husband. We're a team, we've only ever needed the Lord and each other to be okay or have a good time. In years past, men were known solely as providers and protectors, and Andy is that but so much more. He provides our family with the leadership and strength we need, and as cheesy as this sounds- I'm never afraid of what comes because I've got the God of the universe on my side, and He's given me someone on earth that takes the scariest things in life and makes them look like nothing compared to what we can handle.
So- Happy Fathers day to all the fathers out there, but I win. I have God, I have my wonderful earthly father, and I have a German I call my best friend. Boom.
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