Valentine's Time Capsule

a surprise from my friend Kate

Bonnie the Faith Barista encouraged her married readers last week, by word and example, to remember the affectionate flirtation of courtship and to revisit those in the days leading up to Valentine's Day. She shared a study which found that the key ingredients in successful marriages were fondness, admiration, and "put[ting] a positive spin on their marriage's history."

This challenged me. By God's grace, my beloved still owns my affection and admiration, but with the losses and brokenness we have sustained over the past 12 years, sometimes it seems the brokenness is our identity. As we take up our crosses to follow Jesus, as we die to ourselves in the daily endurances of life, we (or at least I) may be tempted to forget that the Gospel of Christ does not end at the cross.

As the angel said to the women at the tomb,

You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here (Mark 16:6, ESV).

The brokenness is not the end of our story. Affliction is not our identity. The trials of life are instruments in God's blessed hands that we might realize more fully the life of Christ in us. No matter how things appear, no matter how things feel, our story has a happy ending which ought to bring hope and that "positive spin" to our interpretation of today. For the Christian, every cross ends in resurrection; every broken place makes room for more of God's glory.

For you have died, and your life is hidden with the Messiah in God. When the Messiah, who is your life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory (Col. 3:3-4, HCSB).

Taking up Bonnie's challenge, I pulled out the notebook of our love letters. Actually, they were love emails. I don't recall when I printed them, but it's a good thing I did, because those accounts no longer exist. Where did we come from as a couple? Besides books and coffee and seminary chapel, what did our first love look like?

The notebook has lain open on our table since Thursday, each of us paging through by turns. The joy of revisiting them has surprised and blessed me.

It has encouraged me to see more continuity than I expected between the then and the now. The endearments we still use were selected in the very earliest days of courtship, and their number has only multiplied. Our first Valentines to each other fell out of the notebook when I picked it up, and the inscriptions were so similar that A. asked if we had planned it intentionally. We still do that, taking words out of each other's mouths on a regular basis. Sharing coffee and tea, exchanging prayers and counsel, trying to make him laugh with mixed results, printing on both sides of the paper--none of these things have changed.

Discovering some troubles during courtship which had been completely forgotten in the intervening years also strengthened my heart. Sometimes forgetfulness is a grace, too.

The words of our younger selves have also edified me in surprising ways. The great, gleaming faith of those days humbles me and makes me a little wistful. Our faith now is smaller, perhaps like a mustard seed, but it may through grace be a truer faith because a tested one. May God grant that our seeds of faith would grow and mature into bigger trust again.

We have enjoyed laughing together at our naivete and mushy romantic talk. I did not remember my non-fiction, deep-thinking husband being so smitten! My own silliness, on the other hand, was no surprise at all.

Last of all, the nostalgia has reminded me of the preciousness of exclusivity. We are each other's first romance. Excluding my dad, A. is my first and only Valentine. There are no other love letters, no other roses, no other kisses. Not everyone has that story, and I don't at all mean that ours is better. God gives a variety of tailor-made gifts; this happens to be one of ours, and I had come to take it for granted.

If you are still reading, I pray that this has encouraged you in your own relationships in some way. We are all living a romance, and the same need to remember and refresh our first love applies to our relationship with the Lord who loves us just as much as to our human relationships.

Speaking of which, another week means another list of the silly and serious ways He loves:
~our truest, eternal Valentine, the God who sings love songs over us
~red roses on the table
~wise counsel
~laughing with A. at the emails we exchanged through courtship and engagement
~silly nicknames
~husband who still opens doors for me, assists me in and out of the car, and helps me into my coat
~my one and only human Valentine
~our own words speaking back to us to strengthen and encourage today
~Faith Barista's post that prompted me to revisit them
~grace for lots of things left undone last week
~a week without medical appointments
~two long phone conversations with crumble friends
~empathy
~"upheld," the word and the truth behind it (Is. 41:10)
~choosing Valentines to send
~God ministering to two online friends through comment prayers
~a blurb from my Hawk and Dove review making a surprise appearance in the Kindle edition of the new book in that series
~my dad for discovering that and sharing the news
~having attended four for four Bible study meetings
~kind words affirming my involvement in that small group
~community's answered prayers for husband's colleague
~plans for coffee with a neighbor in a few weeks
~full bird feeder with lots of visitors
~a friend making herself available for intercession at any time of day or night: "My phone is always on and always with me. Just text, 'Pray now,' and I'll pray." God's grace at work in His body.
~strong hot tea on a cold, grey day
~addresses known by heart
~handwriting I recognize without seeing the return stamp
~more love in the mail, sent by a friend from long before the blog
~opportunity for more physical therapy help the next two weeks
~pleasure of anticipating a visit with family and my grandmother, come the weekend
~your patience with my unanswered comments
(#3023-53)

Sharing with the communities at Ann's, Laura's, and Bonnie's:

Surrender {Poem}

Sorry about the poetry jag the blog seems to have taken recently. Any suggestions to remedy that? Multiple conversations this week, in person and in pixels, have reminded me of this piece that I personally never stop needing to revisit.


Thanks for your prayers for R. Monday. We don't know the details, but he was back at work yesterday, so it seems God granted our requests. May He give you joy and sincere worship this weekend. ~cm

Thy will be done— 

Four little words,

Mighty in the divine fiat

To tumble mountains,

Overthrow kingdoms;

Open prison bars,

Shut lions’ mouths;

Strengthen Gethsemanes,

Cheat death of its prey.

Mere syllables—

As You wish,

A verbal curtsy—

To unleash the Lion of Judah

Into the jungle of my circumstances.

Only,

On close inspection,

Wasn’t the back door of His cage

Open all along?

Yet in meekness

The Lion waits,

Until I bid Him

Do His bidding.

Thy will be done—

The noblest petition,

Choosing His choice;

The one prayer

Never refused,

Always heard,

Had for the asking.

Secure

When changes lurk like bandits around dark corners,
When life's steadiest certainties register on the Richter scale,
When the most dependable crutches don't bear the weight of my cares,
When wedding photos and doorjamb growth charts rise smoky red in the night sky,
When paramedics carry "normal" away on a stretcher,

You, Lord, You make my mountain stand firm.
You make my boundaries secure.
You are my abundantly available help in tight places.
You named Yourself "I Am," yesterday, today, and forever the same.
Your love is my one sure thing.


Shaddai, shelter me in the shadow of Your wings while the storms pass.

Lord, help me to learn how to hang on tight to You when my life is rocked by dramatic change. Empower me to trust You and not to panic or fight for control. Help me to stop confusing a change in my circumstances with a change in my security status. You are my security, O God. You are the one sure thing. When everything around me shakes, You are unshakable. Nothing has the propensity to reveal false gods to me like a sudden change in my circumstances. Help me to see them and surrender them instantaneously. Use change to provoke what needs changing in me, Lord, and to increase my appreciation of the only one who is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Beth Moore, So Long, Insecurity, p. 171).

Amen.

Scripture references: Psalms 30:7; 16:5, NIV1984; 46:1; Exodus 3:14-15; Hebrews 13:8; Ps. 100:5 and many other verses which proclaim the endurance of God's steadfast love; Psalms 57:1 and 91:1.


P.S. Please don't worry. :) There are some uncomfortable changes pushing me towards God right now, but this prayer seeks to move beyond my relatively small stuff to bigger losses I know about. I considered using our/us language but felt that me/my would be more personal here, not because every concern listed applies to me, but with a view to identification with any reader God should bring who is feeling shaken or insecure today.

Worlds to Conquer

Urgent prayer note: Just as I was about to post this, my husband's co-worker R. was rushed to the hospital with heart attack symptoms. God knows his name, and I know you and how generous you are with your prayers. Please join me in lifting this man and his family to God?

I am Yahweh your God,
who brought you up from the land of Egypt.
Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it.

Psalm 81:10, HCSB

My new acquaintance, Thomas Traherne (1637-1674), relates a tale of an unhappy king in his work Centuries of Meditations:

To what end do men gather riches, but to multiply more? Do they not, like Pyrrhus the King of Epire, add house to house and lands to lands that they may get it all? It is storied of that prince, that having conceived a purpose to invade Italy, he sent for Cineas, a philosopher and the King's friend, to whom he communicated his design and desired his counsel.

Cineas asked him to what purpose he invaded Italy? 

He said, "To conquer it." 

"And what will you do when you have conquered it?" 

"Go into France," said the King, "and conquer that." 

"And what will you do when you have conquered France?" 

"Conquer Germany." 

"And what then?" said the philosopher. 

"Conquer Spain." 

"I perceive," said Cineas, "you mean to conquer all the world. What will you do when you have conquered all?" 

"Why then," said the King, "we will return and enjoy ourselves at quiet in our own land." 

"So you may now," said the philosopher, "without all this ado."

Yet could he not divert him till he was ruined by the Romans. 

Thus men get one hundred pound a year that they may get another, and having two covet eight, and there is no end of all their labor because the desire of their soul is insatiable. Like Alexander the Great they must have all, and when they have got it all, be quiet. And may they not do all this before they begin? Nay it would be well, if they could be quiet. 

But if after all, they shall be like the stars that are seated on high but have no rest, what gain they more, but labor for their trouble? It was wittily feigned that that young man sat down and cried for more worlds to conquer (Waking Up in Heaven, 13-14).

Every life has its aching emptiness. Some of the soul holes last all the life long. Some shift and change like soap bubbles. The question the Christian believer must answer is what he or she will do with the emptiness? Will we chase after worlds to conquer and thus attain the contentment we crave? Perhaps world domination does not capture your fancy (as it does not mine). Will I pursue a bigger house, a faster car, a smaller smartphone, a wardrobe update, or a stack of new books and thus satisfy my empty places?

That hasn't worked for me. Has it worked for you?

My Bible study homework on James 1:17 last week offered an alternative. One or the exercises asked that we divide our lives in four equal sections. Considering one section at a time, we were to list God's good and perfect gifts to us during those years. What at first seemed daunting proved a source of joy and gratitude for the different gifts and circumstances the Lord has chosen for me and for the role they each played in forming (for better or worse) the person I am today.

What began as a mental exercise so I could get through the day's questions became an offering of thanksgiving, an act of worshiping the Father of lights who perfectly and generously gives all good gifts, even the ones I wish at the time came with a return receipt.

The emptiness in my soul will never be filled by earthly pursuits. Made in the image of God, no matter how broken that image may be, we can only be filled and "quiet" in Him. "Open your mouth wide," He says, "and I will fill it." It does not say "fill it with ___________," but simply "fill it."

My true hope of quiet contentment lies not in appetite, acquisitions, or accomplishments, but in being full of Him as I worship, trust, and surrender my will for His.

And so, I keep counting His kind and gracious gifts (#2844-64):
~free access to the throne of grace without fear
~God's constancy in a world of change
~promise of a day when all desire will be fulfilled by Him who is our chief delight
~strength for a week's laundry
~more real mail!

~a surprise from a friend left on the front mat
~God's protection and presence while Allen traveled for a family need
~hunger and thirst for God's Word and prayer
~the beautiful polyphony of birds singing this morning
~the flowering quince (I think) in a neighbor's yard

~the drone of lawnmowers welcoming the new month
~stems and leaves of daffodils rising hopeful above the cropped grass
~the color green

~frost sparkling on the old bridge like diamond dust
~a message perfectly suited to my heart at Bible study Wednesday
~ability to attend the first three of eight sessions
~crossing paths with two of the women outside of class
~a good eye exam
~flowers from my beloved, inside and outside the house

~laughing at Ebony's favorite Superbowl commercial and close second, although the second link won't make sense unless you have first seen it's predecessor the Darth Vader kid commercial (It is not my intention to endorse in any way the companies and products represented in these commercials. We don't actually own either one. We do, however, endorse clean humor when we encounter it.)
~the nineteen years God gave with my grandmother, who taught me to crochet and sew, who modeled for me the benefits of a well-worn hymnal and a piano, and who was one of my closest friends until her passing on a rainy February morning over two decades ago

sharing today with Ann and Laura's communities:

Thou Art the Same God {Part Three: God of Tomorrow}

This is part three of a three-part poem. If you missed the first parts or would like to get a running start into the third, here are the links:
Part One: God of Yesterdays
Part Two: God of Today

III.                    The God of my tomorrow:

Preparing a place for me

YOU WILL BE

God of tomorrow—

There,

Red Sea impossibilities,

Wilderness wastelands,

“This cup,

this bitter cup. . .

You have given it;

How can I refuse?”

Valley of the shadow. . . .

You are there,

Will be there,

Faithful in my faithlessness.

Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

Lie ahead,

Mist-enshrouded,

Nothing certain but uncertainty.

One thing sure:

YOU WILL BE THERE,

The Lion

Driving out my enemies,

Making the wilderness

Your castle.

Around the corner of my tomorrows. . .

YOU WILL BE THERE,

Promising Tomorrowland,

When “all will be right,

When Aslan comes. . .”

Wedding dress for widow’s weeds,

Love songs for funeral dirges,

Beauty for ashes,

Mourning into dancing. . . .

Dancing,

No more hindered by these

Wooden legs,

Broken wings.

Farther up and farther in. . .

YOU WILL BE,

YOU ARE THERE.

This three-part poem dates, I think, from the first few weeks back in the U.S. after our return from the mission field. Apologies to the very many authors, especially C.S. Lewis, whose scraps of ideas are quilted together here.