Run Baby RUN

Obviously, endurance is important in a marriage. You’ve got to survive the honeymoon, then the seven-year itch, then the kids and dirty diapers, the moves, the financial catastrophes, the football games and shopping trips, the burnt dinners, the in-laws and late nights without courtesy phone calls.

For many of these posts, you have endured my cloaked complaints about the ups and downs of marital bliss.  I can tick off the idiosyncrasies that I have endured but I haven’t humbly given credit to my husband’s endurance.

A prime example of his endurance and patience is our recent road-trip back to our roots in Oklahoma and Kansas. Patrick drove 20 hours each way. He stopped every 2-3 hours for my pathetic bladder. He allowed my dog to climb up, back and over the seats when he wanted to sit in my lap. He let me pack home twice as much stuff as I packed to begin the trip. And he barely complained at all!

Have you ever considered how you have benefitted from another’s endurance? I’m not just talking about putting up with you (that may or may not be a chore). Patrick and I have prospered in direct proportion to our parents’ endurance. Both of our parents’ are still married – my own just celebrated their 37th wedding anniversary! CONGRATULATIONS AND THANK YOU, DAD AND MOM! All of our grandparents honored their wedding vows well over 6 decades, till death parted them. Now, I easily run to the arms of my mom or mother-in-law with full assurance that they will advise to the preservation of my marriage – not to simply tickle my ears.

I have been noticing and admiring endurance in many aspects of life, recently. My sister, Kelsey and her husband have embarked on a long blessing that will require great endurance. I introduced you to Kylie , in November. Doubtless children demand endurance!

My youngest sister just got engaged to one of the most fantastic men. She endured a long, sometimes long-distance dating relationship while she waited for God’s perfect timing for the marriage. I’m sure these last few months of waiting for the date to arrive will seem to stretch on forever, but it will be worth it!

What are you enduring? Is it painful? Is it in high hopes of a wonderful future? Is it worth it?

As Christians, our high calling is to be Christ-like. Endurance is an indisputable requirement to imitate our savior.

Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Hebrews 12:2

It will all be worth it.

A Terribly Good God

The dichotomous nature of my One Christ.

I fuss to absorb Him in one small life.

To love an enemy, die to live.

But God is Love?

Who sends sinners to hell?

Saved by grace, but saved for works?

Justice and mercy so juxtaposed.

Confusion, angst, frustration grows.

King in a feed trough.

Revolutionary fishermen.

Surrender and stand firm.

Sing in suffering?

The only way this equation works,

Imbalanced as it is on any given day.

My momentary whim, or colored lense.

The only way to reconcile the polar jealous vengeance of my sweet Savior.

Subtract myself.

Excise my views and reputation,

My desires and interpretation.

Remove my notions,

Seal my questions.

It is solely Him, I am souly His.

I don’t matter. That they see Jesus –

instead of – not beside me.

I don’t wield the gavel or weigh the merit of goodness.

I don’t have in view earth’s timeline, stretched through eternity.

I don’t weigh my pain against my joy.

I don’t balance the scales of faith and works.

I am not, but that He Is…is enough.

Shared at Gooseberry Garden

He Was Watching

 
Credit: Untitled Moments

He watched her from his bird’s eye view.

Standing in waves of flaxen hue,

Merged with sky of palest blue.

Above, out her sight, He moved His hand.

Whispered a word she would understand,

“All your tears have long been planned.”

Looking back, she searched for proof,

That her Highest Love, told the truth.

She saw that since her early youth,

He had loved and cared and carried,

She had senselessly often worried.

Alas, but did her Savior bleed.

And with His wounds did intercede.

For her joy, and strength peace He plead,

“You’re beautiful and mine,” He said.

Written for Bluebell Books: Short Story Slam