Her

Blue carpet lined the halls of Stringers. A stark contrast to the white washed walls. We walked past the parlors and up the steps, into a small kitchen area.  There he sat. His feet spread apart, elbows on his knees.  I didn't see my dad in a suit very often and saw tears in  his eyes even less.  But that day was unlike any before and any after.

She was gone. His mom, my Mamaw. And as a child, I didn't understand the depth of the pain he felt, still feels even now. My mom's dad carried me back out those big, glass doors. But in my mind and heart, I can replay that scene over and over, even though I was just a child.

Many years later, as I prepared for my wedding day, my mother offered a piece of advice that I wouldn't fully understand the impact of until years later.

Love his mother just like you love me.  It will mean more to him one day than you will ever know.

This woman loved her son, her family. Her brown eyes danced when she laughed.  And she hid years of hurt behind a silent smile. Her life held more than I could have even imagined. And as I came to know and love this woman over the years, my mother's words echoed in my heart.

Love her.

And I tried to love her, and I did love her. There is so much I see of her daily with us, like the looks I get from anyone of my three boys that have her facial expressions engraved in them.  Or the compassion she had for others.  I see it in the way my husband loves his family and thinks of others before himself.  It is manifest in our oldest son and in the way he longs to comfort and care for others.



Her love for Alabama football that was passed from mother to son.  And now has been passed from father to son. Oh the smile I can just see on her face if she could hear that little voice saying, "Roll Tide!"

She was driven.  Driven by the things and people she loved. Driven to love and give beyond herself. As I watch and converse with my sister-in-law, I see that determination as she strives to love her family and family of friends.  She's driven to succeed in school and make something of her life.



And this time three years ago, I saw a familiar scene in a whole new way. As that man in a suit, sitting in that kitchen grieving for his mother was my husband.  And I watched the way our boy loved his daddy so tenderly.  In my heart, I understand the words my mother spoke so many years before.

I love you, Glenda Stephens...and miss you more with each passing day.  Though you didn't give birth to me, you were my mom in so many ways. Thank you for loving me and for raising the wonderful man that is my husband.

Your grandsons are growing up so fast. We are doing our best to raise them to be godly young men. My hope is they turn out to be even half the man their dad is.  Til I see you again...Love you, Mom!

 

Hands and Feet

Everything is eerily quiet around the house. Light is pouring in from open windows and flickering candles. And my soul feels a little quieter, more at ease, than usual today.  I feel so often like I'm treading water to keep afloat through the everyday ins and outs. Between family, household responsibilities and outside obligations, I've often wondered what has happened to me.  I take on a lot more than I can carry sometimes. And my stress level tends to stay pretty high.

But today I prayed something I haven't prayed in a long time. And I heard that quiet whisper in my soul. The words I knew I needed, but often don't listen long enough, to hear.

I want to be Your hands and Your feet...but how? To whom?

To them.

I could hear the sound of voices coming from the kitchen. Laughter erupting and rushing down the hall toward me. Them. Three munchkins that run around here day after day.  Little lives that have yet to follow Christ. Personalities that are daily watching and acting what they see. And a man that needs to be reminded he's not in this alone.  One that needs to see the love of Christ being poured out in his home to his family and not just from him.

Today, less takes on a new meaning.  Instead of less clutter and stuff, it will look like less social media, less television time, less shuffling the kids off to play. Fewer outside obligations and responsibilities. It will begin to look like more stories and games, more playing cars and super heroes.  More purposeful interaction with my family. More of the love of Christ pouring out through me.

But Jesus said, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children.” ~Matthew 19:14 NLT

And the last thing I want to do is stop these children from coming to Jesus.

What does purposeful family interaction look like at your house? To whom are you seeking to be the hands and feet of Christ?

My 10 Things for 10 years

Gray skies covered North Alabama ten years ago today. It was a little dreary and cold.  But I could have cared less what the weather outside was like...I was about to marry the most wonderful man in the world.  Ten years, 3 kids and six cities later the weather is cold.  And I still don't care because I woke up next to the man of my dreams this morning.

In honor of ten years, here are ten things about this incredible man I love so much.

He is passionate. About Christ and the hope found only in Him. You hear it when he speaks. You can see it in his actions.  It is evident in the everyday ins and outs of life. This passion drives him.



 

 

 

 

He is a teacher.  More than just telling others about things, he wants them to learn and to know that they know for themselves.



 

 

 

 

He is adventurous. New places never bother him. He sees it as opportunity and looks for new things to see and do.



 

 

 

 

He is goofy. Never embarrassed easily, he loves to just be silly and goof off with the boys.



 

 

 

 

He is a learner.  After nearly 7 years of seminary and what seems like hundreds of books, he is always reading and learning.  Digging for knowledge and gleaning wisdom.



 

 

 

 

He is a fan. Of sports. All things University of Alabama.  Football and golf. We can even watch and play together.



 

 

 

 

He is a foodie. But only when it comes to the grill or sweets. He loves BBQ and Burgers. Chocolate Chip cookies and ice cream.



 

 

 

 

He is a friend. No matter the miles that separate, he will always call to check in with his friends, praying for them and laughing with them.



 

 

 

 

He is a father. Our boys know they can look to dad, talk to dad, wrestle with dad and just be in his presence. He gives them love and discipline, helping set the course for them.



 

 

 

 

He loves selflessly. Daily he helps with the boys, does household chores and makes sure that I have time to be in The Word. He wakes early and stays up late, making sure he is able to squeeze in all he needs to do for each day.



There are so many more details I could give but I'll just treasure those in my heart. I am beyond thankful for my man. And am looking forward to celebrating many more anniversaries together!

Choosing Love - A Gift

I'm a grown woman. Thirty four years of walking this little corner of the world.  And I must say, I would never want to do it all over again. Never ever ever.  Not even an understatement. Like a mentioned in this post, I was a hopeless romantic. Hopeless. 

The first nearly twenty one years of my life was spent at the hands of my own preconceived ideas about who I was and what I needed.  Growing up in a somewhat small suburban community in what was once known as the "Bible belt" was not so bad.  The school I attended was average.  My grades were satisfactory.  My involvement in extracurricular activities was minimal.  My family was provided for by hardworking, still married parents.  We attended a small church where most people were family.  Life wasn't so bad.



I was liked by most people.  I stayed out of trouble and in the background mostly.  My family loved me.  Yet, I had an intense desire to be loved.  Loved for who I was.  School girl crush after school girl crush.  Nothing.  I felt a little like Violet from the Incredibles....invisible.  And then when I was noticed, I made poor choices for fear of losing love.

Until one day. Well into my college years, the guy I had been dating broke it off.  Feeling crushed, I didn't know what else to do so I began praying.  The Lord was faithful in showing me that I had to learn to love me.  The me that He had created me to be.  So what, I had made a list of expectations for my future man.  If I wasn't secure in who I was, it really wouldn't matter what I wanted in someone else. The truth of the matter is, if someone can talk you into doing or being something, then someone can talk you out of it.  Your actions prove your stability.  And stable I was most certainly not.

It came down to finding my identity in Christ, not in someone else's opinion of my worth.  It became about accepting Christ's free gift of love and choosing to live fully in that gift, day after day after day.  To accept who I had been and choose to no longer be that person.  A choice of no longer hiding in my shame, but allowing that shame to be removed by The One who loved me while I was still a sinner.  He knew me then and knows me now and loves me the same.  His love, Christ's love, is grace-filled and glorious.

God blessed me, truly blessed me, when He brought my husband into my life.  Not only was he what I had desired in my future mate, he was willing to take a backseat to my relationship with Christ.  And our relationship is wonderful and a work in progress.  Marriage, as with any human relationship, takes work.  The warm fuzzies last for a week or two, maybe a little longer, but if you don't know who you are you can't give fully to any relationship.  And trust me, if you don't love who you are, how can you expect someone else to love you and choose to remain in that love?


What or who are you listening to that is falsely describing who you are or should be? Are you willing to lay aside what everyone else wants for you so that you can follow Christ and what He wants for you?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ulF23jpFvyY

That 4 Letter Word

Tears left highways down that sweet face as her mascara ran.  And my heart feel into a thousand pieces, or more, as the words just wouldn't come.  Couldn't come.  How do you comfort a heart so young, so innocent?  Stories of young love and adult tragedies were a plague, removing the sacred.

Adults can make dumb decisions. Sometimes they choose themselves over their children.

It didn't make sense and it isn't right. But how do you do damage control?  How do you convince a young heart they are not at fault for their parents poor choices?



And in our world love is a four letter word that has little meaning and even less value.  It's an emotion in passing rather than an action in choosing. The words of Paul to the church at Corinth ring loud in my ears and heart.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

~ 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a NIV

Am I so naive as to believe that society around me is fine and not falling apart at the seams?  Families crumble. And we leave the children in the aftermath to fend for themselves.  Not fully understanding that this vicious circle of life keeps happening.  And what they see is what they do.  So, when will we step in and make a change?

When will love win?

Who's going to tell her that not every man leaves? Who's going to raise him to be a man, that makes good choices?  Who's going to show her that her worth doesn't come from someone else?  Who's going to teach him to lead by example?

Who's going to chose to love them?  Well, I am.  Will you?

Let's indoctrinate them with love! Love that is not self-seeking or self-serving. Love that reaches out beyond ourselves to embrace others where they are.  That offers hope and freedom.

This isn't something I'm great, or even good, at.  It is a discipline. It means going beyond me.  But, Lord Jesus, I'm ready.  Use me.  And remind me daily to love.

Love is...

I'm having one of those days.  My fuse is short and my children seem to know this better than anyone.  I have no way of physical escape, such as a Hawaiian vacation or trip to Disney, in my near future.  In lieu of having a mommy meltdown, I've written out 1 Corinthians 13 and what, as a mom, it says to me.  Because sometimes I just need a perspective adjustment.

Love is patient and kind.  Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or ~ 1 Corinthians 13:4

Love gives second chances, and third and fourth.  Love speaks without yelling.  Love doesn't think about what it is doing without and harbor resentment, toward even the tiniest one.  Love doesn't pride itself in being right but is humbled because it knows who it has been. Love is a grace giver because it was a grace receiver.

 

rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. ~1 Corinthians 13:5

Love doesn't put things like social media, television or conversation before the well being of others.  Love makes important people and things important.  Love doesn't keep tabs for future use.

It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. ~ 1 Corinthians 13:6

Love doesn't allow the unfair treatment of one child by another.  Nor does it allow the abuse of any child in form.  Love rejoices when children grasp the truth and hold on for dear life.

Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. ~ 1 Corinthians 13:7

Love is knowing and speaking truth over my children with throwing in the towel - no matter their age, maturity or circumstances.  Love carries us through each and every situation in life without fail.  God is love!

 

For My Valentine

A sunset.  Has to be my favorite piece of art ever created.  There are never two just alike and no one can come close to duplicating the artists original piece.  And, my life changed waiting on a sunset.

I'll never forget that hot July night.  We'd been in Panama City for a couple of days. Enjoying the sand and the waves. Eating some wonderful seafood. Taking in the sights.  Little did I know he was waiting on a sunset.  The weather had been less than perfect that week.  Cloudy at best, scattered showers.  So finally after days of waiting on perfection, he chose to take a leap.



That night we'd eaten dinner, gone to hear a little music and then went for a walk on the pier. It was late but that ring in his pocket must have been burning a hole because he just couldn't wait any longer. And even though he'll tell you he wished he would have gotten down on one knee, it was perfect.  There was no beautiful sunset, no perfect romantic place.  It was just him and me.  And a yes!

Anthony, after celebrating 9 wonderful years of marriage and the births of 3 handsome, fun boys, I realize that there may never be perfection.  But as long as I'm with you, that's right where I want to be.  Here's to many more years together.  And one day, we'll have that sunset!

http://www.godtube.com/watch/?v=91BF2MNU

 

Ungrateful Kid

If you walk in my house at any given time of day, you probably wouldn't get much further than the front door.  Honestly, I often wonder if the stacks of boxes yet to be unpacked have regurgitated their contents on the floor, leaving me disgruntled at their appearance.  Toys litter the floor. Trucks, tractors and trains for any unsuspecting foot to find.  And that's all before you can get to the kitchen.  My children lack no good thing.  Their closets are teeming with clothes, almost to the point of overflow.  They never have to worry where their next meal will come from or if they'll be able to participate in activities most young children enjoy.  They know how to live with everything...and that's where we have our problem.

It is becoming a regular occurrence that at least twice a week our four year old son doesn't like what's for dinner.  Our policy has been that in order for him to determine whether or not he likes it, he has to eat four bites of whatever is on his plate.  He usually has his mind made up about the time we say it's time to eat as to whether or not he's going to even try it.  Dinner was no exception.  He dug in his food.  Crumbled his bread all over the table in front of him.  And even asked for more to drink because he didn't like what was on his plate.  I couldn't help but think that I'm raising ungrateful children.  Ungrateful. Really?  They show little regard for discipline and no appreciation for what they've been given.  I grieve.

Over the last few weeks, unbeknownst to our children, our family has been exposed to poverty beyond what I've seen, other than homelessness, in America.  Poverty that leaves children not knowing when or where their next meal will come from.  Poverty that leaves the disabled without the resources to feed themselves more than once a day.  Poverty that is not without joy, thankfulness, appreciation and the desire to be loved.  Poverty that wears a smile so contagious you can't help but smile in return.  Poverty held my hand and asked to help me.  Oh the first world problems I deal with daily.  They seem trivial and futile up next the eyes of a child living in poverty.  Poverty has a face that looks similar to mine, but so does hope.

As a parent, I desire for my children to have the best.  What I should desire for them is not physical, tangible things.  My desire for my boys is they experience gratefulness in the midst of almost nothing, joy in the midst of pain, love in the midst of the unlovely.  I want for them to see that what matters most in life is beyond themselves.  It goes deeper than their wants.  I desire for them to learn the secret to living in every situation.

That secret is Christ.

Now, Was That Scared...or Sacred?

The boys and I had the opportunity to join my husband this past weekend as he journeyed to the Florida panhandle to serve as the camp pastor for an amazing group of students and adults.  The weekend was for sure busy.  Lots of water...lots and lots and lots of sand.  The weather was beautiful and the boys were wonderful!  Panama City Beach, Florida is a place that holds a very near and dear place in my heart.  In July 2003 while on the pier there in PCB, Anthony asked me to be his wife.  I'll never forget it!

So much has changed in our nearly nine years of married life.  We've moved to four different cities, not including Harvest, Alabama where we were living when we said "I Do!".  Added three beautiful boys to our family.  Experienced a change in Anthony's ministry from youth ministry to lead pastor.  I've had to opportunity to go from working wife and mom to domestic diva and chief operating officer...of the home that is.  We've paid off three vehicles, bought and sold two houses (by the grace of God...literally) and have VERY limited debt.  I say all of this because we've also learned what it means to be helpmates.

Then the Lord God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper who is just right for him.” ~ Genesis 2:18

What a thought.  The Lord God looked at Anthony and made a helper, me, who is just right for him.  Wow!  There have been countless days that I've struggled, not seeing my worth because I was looking at all I was not.  And there have been days I've struggled, not seeing the worth in our marriage because of our differences.  Standing on the altar that rainy January day, I was in love.  I knew beyond a doubt that he loved me and had chosen me.  Scared was not in my vocabulary.  Scared I was making a mistake? No.  The boy had taken nearly 2 years to propose.  By this time, I knew what I wanted and I couldn't see my life without him.  Scared he'd leave?  No. We'd talked, many many times, about divorce.  When he proposed, I knew the only way out was death.   Sure we have intense moments of fellowship and we've allowed what should be intentional to become routine from time to time.  But what I'm reminded of is this...

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. ~ 2 Corinthians 12:9

There is something sacred in forgiveness.  There is something healing in hearing the words I love you.  There is something uplifting when love is an action and not a feeling, an emotion.  What I'm learning is marriage is the single place I can be exactly who God made me to be...without fear of rejection.  After all, He made me just right for Anthony.  Do I ever get scared?  Sure.  My marriage is sacred to me.  And I'm choosing, even today, to work at it.  To stand with my husband and fight for this relationship because I can see Satan attacking the institution of marriage all around me.  And I understand that my vows to Anthony are a covenant between myself, Anthony and the Lord God.  And when I feel like attacking, I have to understand my battle ground is not my home, it's not my husband.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.  ~ Ephesians 6:12

I'm not scared of my enemy and I will hold sacred my covenant vows to my husband.  I am pleading the blood of Jesus over many relationships today.  I pray that the eyes of your heart would be opened to all that God has in store for your marriage.  Decide today to be intentional in loving your spouse the way God's Word describes.

How can you be creative in showing your spouse  you love and appreciate them today? 

Love Wildly

I sat in the passenger seat comfortably as we began our trek home yesterday. Somewhere among the endless tree line and scattered houses, we missed our turn. The already unfamiliar gave way to even more newness. My adventurous husband decided we'd find our way home. I wasn't opposed. So we made a turn at the next little "Radiator Springs" type town and headed off into the unknown.

I watched with longing the untamed pasture land with their clusters of trees and an occasional herd of cattle. Something deep inside me longed to flee the confined space in which I sat and roam the open countryside. To be able to enjoy the spontaneity of the moment and the beauty of the land up close.

We finally, and with absolutely no trouble, made it home even more quickly than I expected. As I went back into "routine mommy mode", I realized that all too often I see adventure from afar. I choose the safe route. I seek the known.

As a wife.

As a mom.

As a believer.

I want to be adventurous, spontaneous. I want to love wildly. To loosen the reins and be free to be who I was created to be. To live up to Christ's expectations for who I am and forget everyone else's. To give my all without reservation. To be willing to leave the familiar and chart new territory.

My heart aches to be loved wildly. To love and be loved without conditions and limitations. To breakdown my own expectations of who I should be and allow

my husband,

my children,

my Savior,

to love me wildly. To make the most of the relationships I've been given. To see them as gifts and not as obligations. They are for here...for now. We take nothing with us when we die. So make the most of every moment.

Love Wildly

Labels

Grocery shopping is okay. I mean, I have to eat and someone's gotta get the food from the store. No big deal. However, I've never been a label reader. I normally don't check out the ingredients to see how much sodium or sugar is in the contents. As a mom, I'm beginning to see the importance of what I allow my children to ingest. I guess, in order to know though, I have to check the label.

We've been attending cottage prayer meetings with our church fellowship once a week for the entire month of January. I sat there Tuesday night and the Holy Spirit began to open my heart.
How many times do we place labels on individuals? We label them as this or that without considering they struggle with the same kinds of things we do. I may not agree with choices they make or understand addictions they have. The truth is we can all find hope in Christ alone. He knows and understands our struggles, choices, likes and dislikes and desires us to come to Him as we are.

Lord, help me to see people as people and not like cans on a shelf. Labels are for cans, not people. Help me to love people for who they are and examine cans for what's inside, not the other way around.

The Game of Love

In preparation of our big upcoming move, we've been going through a lot of old junk deciding what to keep and what to get rid of.  I was moving some boxes to the dining room when I saw my big purple tote.  In this tote is all kinds of things, including but not limited to old journals dating back to middle school.  Yes, I would be crazy embarrassed if ANYONE ever read them, partly because I was so immature and my priorities were way out of order.  So why the title of this post? You see, without naming any names, I was "inspired" by a relationship status change from Facebook as well as seeing all my old journals from school.

I've always desired to be loved.  Wanted to be held in high esteem by one man...FOREVER.  Desired to be treated with honor and respect.  Wanted the desires of my heart to be anther's priority as well.  And no matter how many guys I went on dates with, told my deepest darkest secrets to and even shared my heart with, only ONE chose to pursue me and make me his FOREVER.  But way before that ever happened, I believed a lie.  I was told that no guy would ever want me if I didn't date.  Well, let me just tell you, even when I was a teenager, dating wasn't what it used to be!  Love is NOT a game; dating is NOT marriage.  However, way too often, we mistake dating for love.  And love IS a choice, not just an emotion - especially when it comes to marriage.  It is a choice that is made despite how one looks when then first wake up, despite their spending habits, despite their how they were raised.

So, here are a couple of ways dating needs to change, in my opinion.  For one, there must be an element of mystery, not secrets.  The other person doesn't have, or need, to know all your deepest darkest secrets.  However, there should be honesty between the two.  With dating, there should be a mutual respect but not exclusive rights.  You aren't vowing to another person to LOVE them FOREVER, that is marriage! Second, don't make dating a mini-marriage. Dating is a conditional relationship with established boundaries and a potential end.  Marriage is an unconditional relationship without boundaries that is an eternal covenant.

Here I am thinking about all the times people told me this (before I met the Love of my life!) and I let it go in one ear and out the other.  And after seeing the FB status change and all my old journals, well, I was reminded that God is love.  He does not play games with us, especially when it comes to His love for us.  He desires us to trust Him and to know Him fully.  This doesn't happen just dating God.  He requires our time and attention.  You don't fall in love and choose to stay in love over chance, random meetings with little or no communication.  It's the same in our relationship with God.  It's not like a FB relationship status.  It's not complicated, He will not divorce us, nor will He leave us single if we are desiring Him.  It drives me crazy when I ask my husband why he loves me and he answers, "Because I choose to." But honestly, he's so right.  It's the same way with God, He is Love and He chooses to love us (John 3:16).  So remember, love isn't a game...be careful what you make of it.