On this Monday in mid-August I am relishing time with my family in the mountains of California. We’ve gathered our growing family— fifteen of us now— in a rare moment to focus just on each other. Allison, a member of the team that creates this blog, agreed to write this week’s post Her story is as unusual as her life: occasionally glamorous and exciting, often times lonely, rarely what she’d planned. She is learning, along with all of us, what it means to put her hope wholly in God.

From My Heart,

Diane

I sit here across from a handsome tattooed man at our hand-me-down dining table, and am faced with the task of trying to sum up the millions of life lessons I've already learned since saying, "I do."

Where do I begin?

How can I possibly begin to explain to you how this gentle yet rugged man can melt me with a few guitar chords and his raspy voice?

Will I be able to explain to you how my heart sinks every time we pull up to the airport?

Or how my butterflies flare up every time I return to pick him up outside of baggage claim?

How week after week of saying goodbye never gets easier, and how each time he returns from a trip I am equally as nervous and excited to see him as I was the last time. Is it possible to sum up the stretching that took place as I moved across the country with this man?

Can I properly portray our odd lifestyle in just one short blog?

Well... here goes nothin'...

Making the decision to marry Nick was the easy part. There was not a doubt in my mind I was ready to marry this man. It was the calling that came with being his wife that held some weighty requirements. He had been preparing the field, tilling the grounds of his music career in Nasvhille, TN for three years, and upon saying our vows, I promised to join him in making our home there as a couple.

Leaving all I'd ever known behind in Portland, I climbed shakily into that ten foot Budget truck heading east 2300 miles to my new home. I remember looking in the side mirror as my family waved goodbye, running through my list of fears and what if's. Then looking to my left at my steady driver, I took a deep breath and smiled. God had called me to this life, and I was ready for it to begin.

We arrived in the southern June humidity, unloaded our truck, and then Nick left straight to the studio to record their new album. He's part of a Christian rock band called Kutless, and our honeymoon had just clipped into their studio time. It was "hello new town, new house, new friends," and "bye bye husband!" Not forever, but definitely often. While learning how to live with my new roommate, I was also having to say goodbye to him every few days for days and weeks at a time.

Our foundation for communication was built on choppy cell service, busy dressing rooms, and sorting through disagreements in the back of a crowded tour bus. With no guarantees of finishing conversations, we very quickly learned that relying on "ideal conditions" was never going to be an option for our marriage's success. Every band wife would agree that the following feaux gospel quote is most true: "Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not break."

My most remembered application of this quote happened this past November, when Nick and I decided to move back to Portland. The month had a daunting tour schedule, leaving me to pack a bulk of the house alone and complete any finishing touches on our home before heading west. As expected, I became overwhelmed with anxiety both physically and mentally. My to do list's were a mile long, and all the while I was left missing my husband. With Nick in Norway nine hours ahead of me, our communication was minimal. I felt like I was being choked, and thought (foolishly) that I wouldn't be able to survive that week without Nick. Boy, what a dangerous place I had come to. It was then that I realized the place of idolship I had placed Nick in. His absence that week felt like devesation, but God was using it to help me to lean more heavily on Him, the One who holds ALL things together.

I spent that week pouring my heart out to Jesus, and was delightfully enveloped and filled with love and the strength I needed for that week of packing. Nick was no where in sight, and I MADE IT! Would the packing have been easier with him there? Absolutely! However, I would have never learned that valuable life lesson of trust and sufficiency in God alone.

I am so grateful.

For me it's taken having a husband who is away two thirds of the year to realize my need to depend solely on Jesus for my joy and strength.

Maybe for some of you single girls, it's been the challenge of simply being single that's urged you into romance with your Maker.

For the mamas up nursing in the middle of the night, it's Jesus who's there calming your weary heart.

For the widow, or divorcee, it's the hurts and loss that brings you to Jesus' feet.

Our life is anything but ordinary, but after two years, I feel like I've learned to love it. It has taught me so much about myself and my relationship with God. Things I would have never learned otherwise. I've learned that we live in a world of uncertain circumstances. Things to wait for, people to miss, hearts that break, worries to combat, but the truth that rings through to our weary souls is that God is, and always will be sufficient for us.

He is the only answer to our trials. The refuge we need to run to first amidst fires and storms.

If I've learned anything in my not-so-normal marriage to this musician husband of mine, it's that he is not the answer to my problems.

God is.

Ladies, I truly believe that what we would define as "lack" in our lives, is actually a space that God wants to fill. I want to challenge you (and myself) to know that no matter what status you hold, married, single, divorced, you are not lacking. When we seek fulfillment from the desires of our flesh, we will always be left wanting (yes, even with a husband), but with Jesus you are FULL, lacking nothing.

Even the most adventorous and exciting life with my husband has had it's challenges, but the times that we soar the most is when Jesus is on the throne of our hearts.

"Seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you." Matthew 6:33

Allison

Today I want to begin to introduce you to the team of women who design, create, implement, administrate, manage, and advise this blog we call He Speaks In The Silence. These are women who pray, asking God for wisdom, then use their gifts to craft beauty for all of us. And I think you need to know them!

So… for the next many weeks we’ll be posting a fun profile of who they are, what they do, what they love, who they love, how they live and lots more delicious details.

If you want to take a peak at the list of questions we all got to choose from, here it is.

From my heart,

Diane

HILLARY KUPISH

I live in:

SW portland, Multnomah Village.

I contribute to the blog by:

Illustrations.

This year, God is revealing himself to me as:

My Rock. That though the torrents of life may crash against me, I do not have to let myself be torn and swayed. It is one of the most magnificent and peaceful realizations to stand in.

One of my life scriptures is:

“Yahweh, Yahweh, compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love and faithfulness.”

Exodus 34v6

It is the most compelling word of God I have ever read. I am finding that no matter the season of life, if I center myself of who God says He is, then it seems the rest of the world is put into perspective.

My Myers-Briggs is:

INTJ

Something that I love to do every year is:

Get out of the country. (Or at least to a culturally disparate part of the country).

I love the change of perspective, it refreshes my soul. I have a feeling my husband and I will be the friends that still don’t own a house at 40 because we invested our saved money into travels.

I am totally at peace with that idea.

*All investors / financial advisors - feel free to cringe here.

My lifestyle, in three words:

Moving, Creating, Savoring.

My favorite question to ask people is:

What are you scheming about?

I am a dreamer and a planner, and I LOVE to know what passions people are pushing forward.

The next big challenge I'm tackling is:

Moving towards working as a freelance artist & illustrator. God has totally blessed me in redirecting me vocationally to this path, and it is the most fulfilling, challenging, and terrifying process. I am absolutely smitten. It is amazing to me that God builds in passions and desires, hones skill sets, and then actually provides a place for them to be fully executed. This is a - ‘Duh’ - for a lot of people. For me, I spent my college years and first 4 years of work in areas that I thought were ‘realistic’ and lucrative. They were in many respects, and I was blessed by them relationally as well as in skill building. However, I have found when God puts a fire in you for something, it is just plain uncomfortable to let it sit inside you.

My mission is:

Bring the Kingdom via aesthetics.

Dear girls, A few weeks ago I started a conversation about the reasons women no longer want sex. Then, as woman-talk so often does, we got sidetracked. Off on the bunny trail of why I am still in love with my husband after thirty-five years and that secret key for stressed out mamas and other women who work too hard.

So today we circle back to those 3 Reasons  I hear over and over again from women who finally admit that they’re really not all that enthusiastic about initiating and welcoming intimacy with their husbands.

And for those of you who are not yet married, please pay attention! These are obstacles every woman faces at some point in real life. Decide now that you’re going to overcome those glitches because you place imminent value on a healthy sexual relationship with that man who trusts you to meet his needs.

The first reason for no longer loving sex had to do with disappointment in your lover’s romantic efforts. I urged you to remember that he is not your Prince Charming.

Your husband cannot and will not fulfill that gaping hole of need every woman feels.

And gracefully loving him even when he falls short of your ideal is just the way Jesus loves us. It’s not too great a jump to conclude that…

Choosing to pour sexual love on your husband is an act of grateful, grace-filled response to your Redeemer’s tender love towards you.

The second reason we talked about has to do with circumstances.  Overwhelming fatigue, pressure, the realities of too little sleep and not enough space to breath. Pregnancies and nursing babies and teenagers right down the hall who seem to have sonic ears— not exactly how blockbuster movies portray passion.

That’s when commitment comes in. A woman’s commitment to care about her husband and care for herself even when it’s not easy. The comments and ideas that came in for this post were filled with practical wisdom and delightful dashes of humor.

Today, I want to finish this conversation by talking about the third reason women don't want sex:

“Your body isn’t beautiful like the airbrushed, half starved, breast enhanced women in the movies. You’re so intent on hiding the parts you don’t want him to see that you fail to recognize your own inherent sensuality… You don’t want him to see you unclothed because you’ve lost the freedom your beauty brings. The naked and unashamed of the Garden is long gone.”

Beauty. It all comes back to this, doesn’t it?

In order to feel sexual, we need to feel beautiful.

We know that men respond to a woman’s beauty. But do we fully realize how much a woman responds to a man’s response?

As the wife of a pastor, I’ve had a front row seat to a lot of weddings. During the engagement the bride-to-be gets more and more beautiful. She stops biting her nails in order to show off her ring. Starts an intense exercise program in order to fit into her wedding gown. Goes and gets her make-up done and her hair-style updated. Everything for the Wedding Day.

And indeed, on that day, she is absolutely beautiful. Always.

But my favorite thing to watch is when she comes home from her honeymoon.  That’s when her beauty blossoms. No amount of make-up or money can give anyone that slightly seductive swagger a newly married woman carries off.  She wears a certain sort of grin just won’t go away. Kind of a cat-got-the-mouse look, and with a swish of her tail she let’s all the world know that she’s lovely. Beautiful.

Why? Because that young bride is responding to the response of her enthralled husband. He saw her as she is and he loved what he saw and she knows it!  She feels beautiful because she sees her beauty in her husband’s eyes.

And that, my dear girls, is exactly what each of us needs to recapture if we’re going to fully respond to our husbands. We have got to see our beauty from his eyes.

Don’t judge your beauty by what you see in the mirror. The mirror is not the truth. In the mirror you see only your flaws, not your beauty.

Don’t judge your beauty by the magazines or movies. Those pictures are not the truth. They’re airbrushed and positioned and faking reality. No one looks like that in real life.

Don’t judge your beauty by others. You risk insulting the One who made you by wishing He’d done it different. Psalm 139 says He “formed you in your mother’s womb” and He likes the form He made.

But, you say, I’m not a beauty. I’m plain or plump or flat-chested. My skin is bad, my hair is limp, my eyes are droopy, my legs unshapely. You’re not being modest, you’re being honest. Shouldn’t you just settle for the truth as you see it and ignore beauty? After all, there’s more to being a woman than being beautiful, right?

Here’s the problem with that way of thinking: You and I need to feel beautiful in order to act sexual.

Ugliness and sensuality just don’t work for us. No amount of reasoning about how smart we are or how much we’ve accomplished is going to compel us to actively seduce our waiting husbands. That’s just not the way a woman is wired.

So what to do?

1. Decide in your mind that God made you beautiful. Elohim, the creator-God crafted you uniquely. He is not bound by time or culture. He is undeterred by what color hair or skin or shape of figure is currently in vogue.  He is able to see the way He made you as a reflection of His own creativity. His beauty.

In order to think right, we have got to come to an intelligent agreement with God about how He made us. Our minds inform our emotions. When I decide with my mind that God made me beautiful, I begin to feel beautiful.

2. Uncover the beauty God made in you. Sometimes we have got to peel off layers of ugliness we have allowed to coat our real selves. Unhealthy lifestyles disguise our beauty under the consequences of overeating and under-exercising. Time to get out the Nike’s and breathe in fresh air.

Most often uncovering our own beauty just means we need to pay attention to our good parts.  I once read an interview of make-up maven Bobbi Brown that fascinated me. She has made a fortune on women who don’t like the way they look. Her personal philosophy? Stop trying to cover the parts you don’t like and simply enhance your best features.

3. See yourself through your husband’s craving. Your husband needs to see you. He is not looking for perfection, hasn’t noticed those sunspots or saggy breasts. What he needs from you are glimpses of inviting beauty. Uncover just enough to give him what he needs, then allow yourself to respond to his response.

God made a point of the unashamed nakedness of the first married couple. He noted their ease with each other, their lack of hiding. Sin changed their perspective. Satan is the one who turned Eve’s eyes away from Adam’s response and onto her inadequacies.

It’s time we take back our beauty and own it, girls! It’s time we recapture that sensual swagger that somehow got lost by the lies we’ve come to believe.

It’s time to be beautiful.

From my heart,

Diane

PS: Can you tell us about your honeymoon? Did you see that delight in his eyes and feel more beautiful than you'd ever thought possible? Dare you show more of yourself now that your body no longer lives up to those pre-wedding-work-out expectations?

And for those of you whose husbands did not make you feel like the most alluring woman in the world , can I just say I am so sorry. There are men who inadvertently hurt their wives by what they don't say... it might be time to sit down and share your heart with him, letting him know how much you need to feel beautiful in order to respond beautifully.

Today I want to begin to introduce you to the team of women who design, create, implement, administrate, manage, and advise this blog we call He Speaks In The Silence. These are women who pray, asking God for wisdom, then use their gifts to craft beauty for all of us. And I think you need to know them!

So… for the next many weeks we’ll be posting a fun profile of who they are, what they do, what they love, who they love, how they live and lots more delicious details.

If you want to take a peak at the list of questions we all got to choose from, here it is.

From my heart,

Diane

BETHANY ALLEN

I live in:

Southeast Portland, in the Mount Tabor neighborhood

 I contribute to the blog by:

I (try) to contribute to the brainstorming and dreaming in our creative meetings and hope to provide support and input whenever and however I’m able.

This year, God is revealing Himself to me as:

Husband. As cliché as it sounds, this year God has been teaching me not only about His faithfulness as a husband who provides, protects and surprises, but also what it means for me to be wife (without actually being one).

Jesus is continually challenging me live (today) as though I am deeply loved, seen, and invited on an adventure. As I have learned to really believe these truths, the way I view myself and others has changed. There is a profound confidence and grace that comes from believing that you are loved perfectly.

My Meyers-Briggs is:

ENFJ (“The Giver”) and my top two love languages are physical touch and quality time.

My favorite spots in Portland are:

Breakfast: G R A V Y. Hands-down one of the best breakfast spots in town.

Lunch: Por Que No? I’m a huge fan of Mexican food…and it doesn’t hurt that Bryans Bowl is one of my all time favs.

Dinner: Screen Door. Best southern food in town. Always a win.

Dessert: YoCream. I’m a froyo kind of girl and they have the best in town.

When I was young I wanted to grow up to be:

An Animal Trainer at Sea World. I grew up in Florida and thought it would incredibly cool to swim with whales and dolphins all day.

(Plus I’d have access to the park all day, every day! I was a smart kid.)

The person who has had the biggest influence on me is:

My sister. She is the bravest and strongest woman I know. She has always lived a life of incredible faith and trust. My earliest memories of her always involve her doing something brave. She has an amazing ability to make others feel seen, heard and loved. Every person she meets is invited into a conversation that quickly moves beyond common politeness to sincere connection. I have learned more about Jesus from my sister’s life than I have anyone else.

Rebekah continually gives her life away in the name of Jesus and if I can grow up to be half the woman she is, I will have lived a worthy life.

One of my life scriptures is:

“The Lord makes firm the steps
of the one who delights in him; though he may stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with his hand.”

 Psalm 37:23-24

Psalm 37 was a passage of scripture I read over and over again during a hard season of my life. This verse still brings me crazy amounts of hope and assurance.

My favorite question to ask people is:

What’s your story? You can learn a lot about someone by his or her response to this question.

 What I really want for every woman to know is:

That you bear the image of God and that you have been invited into an incredible story that supersedes a specific role and is inherently linked to your God-given identity.

I am my lover’s,

the one he desires.

Come, my love,

let us go out into the fields

and spend the night

among the wildflowers.

There I will give you my love…

Song of Songs 7:10

Dear girls,

So many years ago, I cannot remember the when’s or the why’s, I found a Secret Switch that enabled me to go from stern its-bed-time-and-this-is-the-last-time-I’m-warning-you-to-stay-in-bed Mama, to loving, welcoming, alluring lover.

But before I tell you more, let me tell you why we need this switch, lest you dismiss my simple solution as unimportant and impractical…

We were made for a garden. Lush plantings, waving grasses, rushing streams spilling into deep pool— that’s that kind of place God created for our first surroundings. Roses and hibiscus, lavender and lilies to scent the air. Oaks and cedars for shade, moss and mint to sleep on, a cool mist rising to moisten our skin and water the earth.

The first husband and wife honeymooned in Eden.

And then the Fall changed everything… except our deep need for beauty.

Buried not-very-deep inside every woman is a craving for the beauty we were created for.  Its there every time you run your hand over something soft, every time your eye catches a particularly clear color, every time you hear the chime of bells or sniff that scent of fresh summer rain. The need for beauty pulls at your soul, begging for more.

But life is not always beautiful. We get dirty, we suffer, we sweat, we get tired and weary and worn down.

And isn’t that about how every young mother feels sometimes?

A mother’s reality is not anything like Esther’s— set apart for six months of beauty treatments and six months of soaking in oils. Instead, moms of little ones and teenagers and toddlers and carpools live like Ruth, out in the fields gleaning what she can from what little is offered her. Then she trudges home to try to figure out what to make for dinner. Again.

No wonder sometimes the last thing a woman at this stage of life wants is sex!

And yet… might there be a way to alter the story just enough to add a bit of that longed for beauty back into the everyday life of such a woman?

And that’s where my Secret Switch comes in. Every night- every single night, without exception- I take a long, sweetly scented bubble bath.

I know, I know, you thought I was going to say something super spiritual. That I read the entire Song of Solomon as soon as I tucked the kids in… nope. Just a bath.

That bath became symbolic for me.

A transition.

The kids were in bed, my chores done for the day, my energy usually at a low point. And every night I filled my tub with luxury. Skin softening, soul sweetening oils and bubbles and bath salts. I lit candles, turned the lights down low, got out something pretty to wear to bed, slathered myself with lotions and a spritz of perfume.

In that twenty minutes or so of feminine decadence, I sloughed off my mama skin and all the stresses that went with it, and emerged a woman.

A dip into beauty, that’s what a bath came to be for me.

Women-who-work-too-hard and mamas need this Secret Switch in order to want to be lovers to their husbands. Falling exhausted into bed with spit up on your ratty t-shirt just doesn’t induce feminine feelings of mounting passion. Ever.

But there’s more… once I stepped into that bathtub, my husband mostly took care of any unexpected needs from our children. As in, mom’s done now.

And more… our bedroom has always been beautiful. Even when money was tight. Even when vacations were mostly camping. Even when the rest of the house qualified for “fixer-upper” status.  No laundry folding, no bill paying, no stashing stuff in the corner. Our room is for romance… and sleep.

Your husband may not readily understand why you need him to take on guard duty while you bathe… or why he needs to supply you with bubble bath and pretty linegerie and a beautiful bedroom. But I can almost guarantee you that if you explain to him that you’re getting yourself ready for loving him sexually, he’ll go to great and heroic lengths to help!

You see, my dear girls, we women need a little help getting there sometimes. While men are stimulated all day long by images of sexually enticing women, those flashing ads and strutting bodies don’t get us very far.

And of course, he’s supposed to know that and help you with lovely words and lots of affection through out the day… but honestly? He’s out fighting battles for you, pretty much separated from his soft side.

When he gets home he’s raring to go and you’re way back there without a drop of desire propelling you to meet him anywhere near half way.

So if this is going to work well for both of you, you’re going to have to take responsibility to get yourself wanting what you know you both need.

That’s what the Secret Switch is all about.

And we’re in good company, girls….Naomi told Ruth just what I’m telling you. Read it for yourselves in Ruth chapter three while you take your bath.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. Beauty in the bedroom and beauty in you… can you tell us all what makes you feel feminine and ready? Favorite scents? Best place to buy bubble bath? I’ll be Instagramming my favorite bath décor from my Pintrest all week. I’d love to see yours!

Today I want to begin to introduce you to the team of women who design, create, implement, administrate, manage, and advise this blog we call He Speaks In The Silence. These are women who pray, asking God for wisdom, then use their gifts to craft beauty for all of us. And I think you need to know them!

So… for the next many weeks we’ll be posting a fun profile of who they are, what they do, what they love, who they love, how they live and lots more delicious details.

If you want to take a peak at the list of questions we all got to choose from, here it is.

From my heart,

Diane

ALLISON DEPARTEE

I live in:

A townhouse community near Progress Ridge in Tigard.

I contribute to the blog by:

Helping brainstorm in our creative meetings, and will soon be heading up the social media team to help spread the word, and get more of you involved in the He Speaks community. We want this to be interactive and a place to cultivate real relationships.

This year, God is revealing Himself to me as:

My refuge. I’ve dealt with a decent amount of anxiety and depression the last few years, and have recently been learning that God has to be my FIRST refuge. I’m newly married and have had God remind me over and over that my husband is my helper and someone who points me to Jesus, but the ultimate peace and refuge I need comes from the SOURCE, Jesus. I’m slowly learning to run to Him before anyone or anything else to find my peace and security.

When I was young, I wanted to grow up and be:

Brace yourselves... my two career choices used to be either a librarian or a cheerleader. This pretty much sums up my personality and giftings, and I ironically did similar things in life as a grown up. A librarian gets to scan things, organize books, and wear glasses. I was all about office work and organization, and ironically ended up being an administrative assistant for Phil and Diane for 4 years! The cheerleader dream was because of my love for dancing, and the ability to be loud and encouraging. I like to believe God let me be a cheerleader by getting married. I am my husband’s biggest cheerleader and am always on the sidelines loudly cheering him on. Really though... I want to be a Mommy:)

One of my life scriptures is:

Matthew 5:16 which says, “Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” I feel like this verse encapsulates the gospel and the great commission. My hope is that I would bring light everywhere I go. I’ve made it my goal to be light in dark places every opportunity I have. At cash registers, in restaurants, on my blog, and in my neighborhood. I want my face to shine like Moses’ did when he came down from the mountain! I even tattooed the word “light” on my foot as a reminder of my call.

My favorite Portland spots are:

Dinner: Our go to spot and FAVORITE restaurant is Dang’s Thai Kitchen in Lake Oswego just off 43. If you like Thai, this is seriously the best Thai we’ve ever had.

Lunch: Cha Cha Cha (usually the NW location) for a good selection of ala carte tacos. Also Lovejoy Bakers in the Pearl. Love the atmosphere and fresh & creative sandwiches.

Treats: Lately I’ve been into juice bars, and am desperately hoping for one to pop up in the burbs. So far I’ve tried Portland Juice Press, Greenleaf, Prasad, Kure and Local Choice Market. Our spontaneous dessert choice is usually a late night run for Burgerville shakes. Yum!

Where we go to dream: Schoolhouse Electric. We love to grab a warm drink at Ristretto and then dream up our perfect home as we walk through the staged living spaces.

Something I love to do every year is:

Go on tour with my husband. Nick plays guitar for the christian band Kutless, and so our lifestyle is anything but ordinary. Since we spend quite a bit of time apart, one of my favorite things is being able to go out on the bus with him. It’s such a privilege to be able to go to work with my husband, and travel all over the country. I love the adventure of waking up in a new place each morning, and discovering new towns and cultures. It is usually a refreshing time for me to get to see first hand what ministry I’m supporting when I say goodbye to my husband each week. I LOVE watching him play God inspired songs that he helped write, and seeing the way that people’s lives are impacted. It always helps fuel me for tour dates that I stay home.

What I really want every woman to know is:

“You are fearfully and wonderfully made...”  (Psalm 139:14). God made no mistake when forming you. The latter half of that verse says, “wonderful are Your works, and my soul knows it very well.” Learn to know it very well. Believe His promises to you, and find your worth in Him. I also want to remind you all that you aren’t alone. I think we all try to play off this facade that we’re perfect. We’re not:) We’re all struggling for security and we need each other! Be real and honest, and lift each other up.

If I could spend a year anywhere in the world, I would go to:

I would LOVE to spend a year exploring Europe. I’ve never been, and would love to take trains and planes all over until I saw it all. I think I’d start with London, then to the English countryside, maybe a little Paris, Germany, Scotland, and of COURSE hop over to Italy and Greece. I’d probably spend most of my time eating, but would just love to learn new cultures and explore historic cities with my husband.

Where to find me:

Website: www.lifeofdepartee.com

Twitter: @allydepartee

Instagram: @allydepartee

This week, Phil and I took a road trip in his mini-cooper convertible to Victoria, BC.  It’s a romantic, European-style city sitting on a busy harbor, surrounded by breathtaking countryside. We went to celebrate 35 years of marriage— three and a half decades.

 And while we were there we talked about how we’ve seen our love grow and flourish— and we talked about those not-so-nice times when we’ve been at each other’s throats, cranky, self-centered, off. Because two strong-willed, opinionated, passionately idealistic people like us most definitely have those “off “ times too.

And we talked about the fact that not every one of those twelve thousand seven hundred and seventy-five days of married life has been smooth and peace-filled or even close to the way we would have scripted…

We’ve lived in four different cities and moved thirteen times. (stress!) We managed four pregnancies (stress!) and raised four children (stress!) through sleepless nights, (stress!) toddler tempers (stress!) and teenage worries (extreme stress!).

We’ve had a few hardships too— my unexpected and unexplained deafness, Matt’s juvenile diabetes, difficult bosses, relationships gone bad.

We’ve been swindled, criticized, hurt, misunderstood.

Real life stuff.

So how is it that I can say I am honestly, really, more in love with my husband today than I could have possibly imagined on July 15, 1978?

The answer is so simple.

I wish every man knew this secret.

I wish every girl dating the guy she thinks she might want to marry knew it.

I wish every couple struggling to stay married and stay happy knew it.

I wish I could brand it across the brain of every married man so that he had to see it before he made a choice that could unravel and wreck his wife’s love…

Drums roll….

I am passionately in love with my husband after thirty-five years of real life because I respect him.

That’s it. Simple. Basic. Doable. Truth.

He’s far from perfect- a big personality like his comes with certain side effects. And though goodness knows, I’ve tried, I’ve never managed to quiet him down or neaten him up. He’s not a man to be controlled or coerced into doing things my way.

No, I don’t feel all this passion for him because he’s reached the pinnacle of the Ideal Husband, or followed Ten Steps Guaranteed To Make Your Wife Happy Forever.

My feelings of love for Phil are rooted in days and weeks and years and decades of watching him relentlessly, doggedly align his steps one at a time to follow Jesus. Not perfectly, but persistently. Every day.

And I’m not talking about rule-abiding, moralizing, rigidity. Every attitude, every decision, every emergency, every heart-ache, every disappointment, every bump in the road of real life, gets wrestled to the foot of the Cross. Surrendered.

And that’s why I am more in love with this man today than I ever would have thought possible 35 years ago.

I wish every man realized that a woman’s feelings of love are wrapped up tight in her respect for him.

I wish every woman knew that a man who is good and godly will grow more and more attractive and compelling and sensuously appealing as the years go by.

One choice at a time… that’s all it takes to win the love of a woman for a lifetime.

From my heart,

Diane

PS. Girls- can you leave a list of why you love your husband/boyfriend/fiancé? Might just be an insightful read into the way a woman loves.

Next week, we will talk about the "Secret Switch" I mentioned last week!

Today I want to begin to introduce you to the team of women who design, create, implement, administrate, manage, and advise this blog we call He Speaks In The Silence. These are women who pray, asking God for wisdom, then use their gifts to craft beauty for all of us. And I think you need to know them!

So… for the next many weeks we’ll be posting a fun profile of who they are, what they do, what they love, who they love, how they live and lots more delicious details.

If you want to take a peak at the list of questions we all got to choose from, here it is.

ABI PORTER

I live in: off Alberta in NE Portland

I contribute to the blog by:

Photography and Kitchen posts here and there.

On my perfect day:

I would go on a brunch date with my husband, Josh, then go sit on the beach in Sauvies Island and read a good book.

Three of my favorite books/blogs are:

Books:

The glass castle

The night circus

A million little pieces

Blogs:

Oh happy day

Design sponge

Creature comforts

If I could spend a year anywhere in the world:

I would go to Paris. We’ve been there twice and I’m trying to convince him we need to live there for a year ;)

The next big challenge:

I'll be tackling is motherhood. Oy! So excited to have a little one this fall but already praying for wisdom daily!

The iPhone app I wouldn't want to live without is:

I’m a budgeting freak so definitely AceBudget

My favorite thing in my home: 

My vitamix. (or my cats!)

This year, God is revealing himself to me as:

Trustworthy. So often I forget to lean in and trust him through small trials and large yet he’s been so gracious even though I fail at this over and over.

One of my life scriptures is:

Philippians 2:3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.

Where you can find me:

Website: www.vanillaandlace.com

Instagram: @vanillaandlace

“… my lover is content with me…”

Song of Songs 7:10

Dear girls, 

Last week we unlocked the reality that for some of us at certain times, we no longer look forward to making love with our husbands.

Sex has lost its allure and all we want is to be left alone.

Not exactly the hot topic at bridal showers.

I listed three reasons I am hearing from women for not wanting sex:

1. Feeling disappointment with your husband’s lack of romance

2. Feeling physically and emotionally depleted

3. Feeling unattractive

There are other causes, of course, but these are the ones most of us will encounter at some stage of our lives. These are reality, life as it really happens.

And just like I told you last week, the solutions are simple… and oh so hard.

In your own strength, you’re doomed for failure, girls. But if you can learn to come to the real Lover of your soul to be filled over and over again by Him… He’ll spill all His great love over you with enough left over to splash passion all over your husband-- whether he “deserves” it or not.

Today I want to talk about those times of your life when “you’re too tired, too busy, and your to-do list is too long” when you have “too many little ones touching you and taking from you all day and into the night.”

You know your husband has desires but you’re so busy meeting everyone else’s needs you just add them to the list of to-do’s that don’t get done.

Ah yes, the best years of a woman’s life… (sarcastic twinkle inserted here with a bit of a chuckle at the ridiculousness of those words!) It’s so easy to romanticize and reimagine what the reality of babies and toddlers is really like.

I had babies and toddlers and teenagers all at the same time. When Matthew was temper tantruming his way through grocery stores, I had adolescent daughters overdosing on hormones. Oh yeah, fun days. And I well remember the feeling that if one more person touched me I’d shatter into a million fragments.

My nest is now empty. It stays clean. I pop into the grocery store all by myself to pick up whatever I need without anyone crying or fussing or demanding or needing to go to the bathroom. I make one bed every morning and it stays made until I pull back the covers at night. No one wakes me up in the morning. No one interrupts my quiet time. No one leaves great gobs of toothpaste smeared over the counters and onto the towel.

Amazing.

But for many of you, I’m fully aware that you’re facing a different scenario. The thought of going to the grocery store alone shines right up there with 5-star resorts and white sand beaches. And the thought of one more person needing something, anything from you is enough to send you into your own tailspin of door-slamming temper tantrum.

Sex is the last thing you want before you fall into your unmade bed to snatch a few desperate hours of oblivion.

But, dear daughters of mine, I’m here to prescribe the most restorative, rejuvenating, and relaxing treatment possible for your exhaustion. Sex.

God made sex to be good for you.

As in really good.

As in if-I’d-known-how-much-I-needed-this-I’d-have-moved-mountains-to-make-it-happen kind of good for you.

Here’s what I mean:

When you give yourself to your husband fully and passionately, your body releases drugs into your system that make you feel good. Great, in fact.

Drugs like DOPAMINE, which feeds your brain with “feel good” effects. It is called the reward hormone, in that it immediately works to flood you with hope and out-going assertiveness. It is also responsible for those “feelings of falling in love” in both men and women.

Having sex with your husband will actually make you fall in love with him all over again… and he with you.

And then there’s SEROTONIN- the very thing sleep deprived mothers don’t ever have enough of. Guess what? A potent orgasm releases vast reserves of serotonin into your system, making you relax and leaving you feeling emotionally satisfied. Doctors call it the “happy hormone” because it has the same effect as anti-depressants.

Feeling kind of distant from your husband these days? OXYTOCIN is known as the cuddle chemical because it causes both men and women to want to be close and intimate. It is the same hormone released right after birth, that high that instantly bonds a mother to her baby. It is “the chemical basis for our capacity and longing for romantic attachment and causes feelings of love, tenderness and wellbeing.”

Seriously, girls, sex is good for you! And good for your marriage. God designed a woman’s body to thrive by giving her body to her husband passionately.

However… when a woman uses her body to steal illicit sexuality from a man, these are the same physical responses that leave her feeling used and betrayed and deeply scarred by what should have been and wasn’t. That is why God so adamantly warns us to wait for marriage. Girls, take heed!

So… drumrolls, how does a mother of babies and toddlers and teenagers summon up the energy to send those signals to her husband that yes, she does want him? How does she convince herself?

And that is exactly what I’m hoping you’ll help me with.

Moms- tell us, please! Talk to each other here by leaving comments and advice and ideas and what’s working for you now.

Older women, can you remember those days? Did you give up and regret it? Or did you figure something out and flourish?

Please, please, please pass on your wisdom here. Leave comments or send emails. If you’re aghast at the idea of talking about sex so publically then post anonymously.

Be tasteful, but be honest. I’ll compile your wisdom and pass it on. Together we’ll figure this out and do all we can to help marriages to thrive.

And next week I’m posting about what worked for me… one Secret Switch that worked like magic to transform me from mother to lover during those baby/toddler/teenager years.

I love you girls!

From my heart,

Diane

Today I want to begin to introduce you to the team of women who design, create, implement, administrate, manage, and advise this blog we call He Speaks In The Silence. These are women who pray, asking God for wisdom, then use their gifts to craft beauty for all of us. And I think you need to know them!

So… for the next many weeks we’ll be posting a fun profile of who they are, what they do, what they love, who they love, how they live and lots more delicious details.

If you want to take a peak at the list of questions we all got to choose from, here it is.

ALLIE RICE

I live in:

Northeast Portland, in the Irvington neighborhood.

I contribute to the blog by:

Creating and maintaining the space where all these words and pictures live. In partnership with the team, I designed the layout for the blog, and I keep the technical behind-the-scenes pieces working smoothly.

This year, God is revealing himself to me as:

Redeemer. That was the name of God that I received at the women’s night in prayer this year, and he is showing me his desire to redeem things — things in me, things in my life, things in others — that I thought would be forever broken. The specifics of how he will redeem are still unclear in places, and I don’t know what it will look like over the weeks, months, and years to come — but I’m awed by the relentless, extravagant grace of God and his heart for sanctifying us to holiness, reconciling us to faithfulness, and restoring us to wholeness. His story is always the same: He is in the business of taking broken people and giving them life. “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you... For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” (Isaiah 43:1-2, 19)

My favorite Portland spots are:

Too numerous to count! I’ll try to narrow it down to three in each category...

Breakfast: Petite Provence, Tin Shed, Waffle Window

Food carts: Grilled Cheese Grill, Native Bowl, Pyro Pizza

Coffee: Costello’s Travel Caffe, Barista, JoLa

Sweets: Salt and Straw, Swirl, dessert at Irving Street Kitchen

Happy hour: Casa del Matador, Meriwether’s, The Station

Gifts: Ink and Peat, Branch and Birdie, Canoe

Casual date night: Por Que No, Kennedy School, The Blue Olive

Moderate ($$) date night: Nuestra Cocina, Toro Bravo, Piazza Italia

Fancy ($$$) date night: Veritable Quandary, Park Kitchen, St. Jack

One of my life scriptures is:

Zephaniah 3:17. I know this is a favorite for many, and with good reason; it speaks powerfully into every season of life. “The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”

My Myers-Briggs/Enneagram/love languages are:

I’m Enneagram Type 2 (“The Helper”) with a 1-wing (“The Servant”). On Myers-Briggs, I’m an INFJ (“The Protector” or “The Foreseer Developer”) — with a maxed-out, yes-to-every-question J. My primary love language is Words of Affirmation.

When I was young, I wanted to grow up and be:

A veterinarian. When other kids were playing doctor on their dolls, I was playing vet on my stuffed animals, complete with Ace bandages and a stethoscope.

The person who has had the biggest influence on me is:

My mom. She is a woman truly after God’s own heart and has set an amazing example of godly motherhood and wifehood since I was a little girl. She gave me freedom to be my own person and security in who I am as a woman, a daughter, and a child of God. Her heart is filled with a joy that I will spend my entire life trying to emulate. I assign such high value to generosity, humility, family, beauty, and grace because of my mom and the way she holds these things as sacred. There is not one thing in my life that would be the same had she not prayed big, honest, faithful, life-giving prayers, day in and day out, for the last 28 years — and I know this is only the tip of the iceberg. Prayers that I don’t even know about, that she has already prayed, and that she continues to pray, will define my life every day of every week of every year for the rest of my life.

My lifestyle, in three words:

Thoughtful, graceful, grateful.

What I really want every woman to know is:

You are a dearly beloved child of the living God. That is your identity — not your sin, not your flesh, not your past. He made you, he knows you, he sees you — and he pursues you, not because of who you are or what you’ve done but because of who he is and what he has created you to be. Stop striving to live up to your identity; you’ve already received it. Instead, live in your identity in the Spirit. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

Where you can find me:

Website: http://www.alliecreative.com

Twitter: @alliecreative

Instagram: @alliecreative

Today I want to begin to introduce you to the team of women who design, create, implement, administrate, manage, and advise this blog we call He Speaks In The Silence. These are women who pray, asking God for wisdom, then use their gifts to craft beauty for all of us. And I think you need to know them!

So… for the next many weeks we’ll be posting a fun profile of who they are, what they do, what they love, who they love, how they live and lots more delicious details.

If you want to take a peak at the list of questions we all got to choose from, here it is.

And since  every single woman on this team is reluctant to go first, they insisted I jump in ahead of them to make sure the water’s not too deep!

From my heart,

Diane

I live in:

Tigard, in a house in the suburbs that I keep trying to make into a cottage in the country…

I contribute to the blog by:

Dreaming, thinking, praying, pondering, creating the team, studying, loving… and writing the content.

This year, God is revealing himself to me as:

Lover. And I gulp a little as I say that. Years ago I read a biography of a Victorian-era single missionary woman who claimed the Song of Songs as her favorite book of the Bible. Although she read the words primarily as an allegory of her relationship with God, (most scholars believe it is first and foremost an intimate look at real love the way God designed it) I was intrigued by the audacity of seeing Him as my Lover. And now I’m beginning to get it. To understand that His love for me is jealous, all-consuming, pursuing, protective, intimate, knowing, tender, accepting, and, in a beautiful way, just a little blind. He loves me (and you!) for who I am. Amazing. Magnificent. Life changing.

My favorite Portland spots are:

For wandering: Forest Park, the Rose Garden, the Japanese Garden, Bishop’s Close.

For eating: I love to try new places… small places… Northwest cuisine is fresh and innovative and down-to-earth and just so good.

For a good cup of tea: Smith’s Tea is a quiet, peaceful place.

For shopping for my home: Sellwood’s many vintage shops, full of a fun mixture of junk and beauty.

For a fun day of shopping with a friend: NW 23^rd area, every shop is lovely and girly.

For a romantic dinner with Phil: Piazza Italia in the Pearl, so authentically Italian.

If I could spend a year anywhere in the world, I would go to:

For winter: I’d hole up in a cabin in Bear Valley, California. It stays snowed in all winter so I’d hibernate and write a book…

For spring: I’d choose someplace with wildflower strewn meadows and gentle sunshine, a farm maybe…where I could play around with writing another book…

For summer: I’d find a cozy cottage in the Lake District of Northern England. I’d wander the hills, read fairy tales, maybe even write a magical, mystical story for my grandkids…

For fall: I’d want a coastal hideaway on a wild and stormy beach. Maybe on the ocean side of Vancouver Island, or tucked into a cove near Carmel Highlands where I could take long walks on the beach and read great books and dream about writing one of my own…

One of my life scriptures is:

Psalm 40

I waited patiently for the Lord;
And He inclined to me and heard my cry.

He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay,
And He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm.

He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God; 
Many will see and fear
And will trust in the Lord.

The person who has had the biggest influence on me is:

No doubt about it, my husband. Phil has taught me and led me and loved me and shown me what it means to walk with God for more than three decades. He has allowed me to be myself even when the me-that-I-am-is sometimes peculiar and forgetful and introverted and intense.

The next big challenge I’m tackling is:

Slowing down to do just a few things well. Letting go of doing some of the things I love in order to keep my soul in a place of rest. Daring to trust God by creating space to listen to His words and to write what I hear.

On my perfect day I would:

Get up early…fix myself a pot of Marco Polo tea…read and listen, write and dream for a long while…putter around my home…take a long meandering walk with my dog, Jackson… go out to a late lunch at one of Portland’s food carts with Phil… walk around the city at night when the lights are just coming on… go home and go to bed early with a good book… and find time in there to write some thoughts about something…

Something I love to do every year is:

Go to my parent’s home high in the Sierra Nevadas. The view off the back deck is breathtaking! As we’re driving up highway 4 through the Gold Country on our way there, both of us start to relax, breathing in the fragrance of a place that has been a refuge for us. When we get there we love to hike and swim in the river and picnic by the stream that runs right through the town of Murphy’s. I read fun books, we take naps, watch movies, eat fresh foods, take long walks and dream big dreams. Some of our favorite memories as a family center around that little mountain town.

What I really want every woman to know is:

That real rest, real satisfaction, real hope and delight comes in that intimate closeness the Father longs to have with us. And that He speaks there- words that He wants us to hear- wisdom for life, for love, for happiness.

Where you can find me:

Website: www.hespeaksinthesilence.com

Twitter: @dianewcomer

Instagram: @dianecomer

Dear girls, I have received a lot of letters these past few weeks that we’ve been talking about sex and romance and loving our husbands.  Women cautiously opening their fears and shame to me.  Stories of abandonment and abuse, disappointment and defeat.  Of boredom and disinterest.

I sense the honor of being one you feel safe with, and I am humbled by your courage.

Women who hurt deep most often hide it carefully.

We pretend. Oh sure, we women complain about the petty stuff like that extra 20 pounds and all the inconveniences of our less-than-ideal lives. But those hurts that define us? Those get locked away where no one dare judge or in any way add to our grief.

And in your honesty, I hear the same thing over and over again. The man who was supposed to protect you and love you and cherish you and provide all you need— didn’t.

Your father failed you. Your boyfriend took too much. Your husband cannot seem to give enough.

And your glorious, alluring sensuality has become your downfall.

Many of you have simply packed it away, like a dress that doesn’t fit anymore. You know its there, you remember, with a certain sense of remorse, a time when you felt beautiful and desirable.

But now you don’t want what you once craved. It’s brought you pain or disappointment. You gave yourself to someone who didn’t treasure you, didn’t keep his promises, didn’t love you in the way you thought he surely would.

What you thought it was… it wasn’t and what you wish it was… it never has been.

Or for some of you, it’s not that at all. No pain, but not any real pleasure either. You’re too tired. Too busy. Your to-do list is too long. Too many little ones touching you and taking from you all day and into the night.

Your body is tired, your soul depleted, your relationship with your husband more of a chore-riddled, conflict-avoiding, child-raising, career-building cooperative… no longer the romance you once imagined.

And then there’s reality:  Your body isn’t beautiful like the airbrushed, half starved, breast enhanced women in the movies. You’re so intent on hiding the parts you don’t want him to see that you fail to recognize your own inherent sensuality. You punish yourself by denying your feminine flourishes. Instead you’ve become practical and low maintenance.

You don’t want him to see you unclothed because you’ve lost the freedom your beauty brings. The naked and unashamed of the Garden is long gone.

You’re hurt, you’re tired, and your beauty is lost.

And for all three causes, the result is the same— you no longer want sex.

And for each of these three common causes, there are simple solutions. Not easy, mind you, but straightforward and doable.

Let’s start with cause #1.

You thought sex with your husband would mean blockbuster romance every time. You want to see tenderness in his eyes, yearning, adoration. You want him smitten, his passion for you propelling him to a place of sacrificial giving into your life.

And guess what? That is what God wants too. He calls it being “exhilarated by her love”, He goes so far as to sternly command a husband to choose to be satisfied and at rest with his wife’s sensuality. (Pv 5:18,19) God wants your husband to demonstrate His own tenderness by “nourishing and cherishing” you. (Eph. 5:25-33)

But here’s the truth: The reason God so adamantly commands your husband to love you the way you wish you could be loved… is because no man naturally does that!

And here’s the rest of the truth: The only One who will always love you the way you long to be loved is God. His is the love that pursues you relentlessly. His is the passion that uncovers your beauty. He is the one who yearns for intimate connection with you every moment of every day.

A woman who finds her own longings fulfilled by the One, is able to so love her husband that sex becomes about satisfying his longings— exhilarating and thrilling him with her spilled over love. And in doing so, she finds immeasurable freedom. Her body, her soul, and her spirit mesh in a moment of unabashed passion and pleasure.

Try it. Get up tomorrow morning and spend an hour with your Bible open to the book of Psalms. Listen. Let God love you with His words. Respond by loving Him back. Go on a walk somewhere beautiful and drink in His gifts to you. Treasure His love. Relish the beauty He made to nourish you. Pick a handful of flowers that He grew for you.

Then plan and prepare a sensual rendezvous with your husband. Be creative. Do what delights him. Do it for him. Look forward to loving him all day long, to lavishing love on him the way the Father lavishes love on you- even when you’re less-than ideal.

Do this often— as often as he wants and needs you and then a little more. Then look at the way he looks at you. Do you see that spark? That meaningful glance? That passion you’d missed?

Add in a whole bunch of just plain, ordinary niceness… that phileo (friendly) love written about in Titus 2:4, and you have set the atmosphere for the kind of love you long for to grow between the two of you.

Simple? Yes. Easy? No.

This goes against everything you’ve seen in the moves, most marriage books and seminars, and would never, ever be the basis for a best-selling romance novel. But this is God’s way.

And since I’ve gone too long (again) I’m going to have to hold the other two reasons women don’t like sex and the solutions for next week. But here’s a recap, just a little clearer.

Problem: You’ve stopped craving sex because he isn’t romancing you and loving you the way you thought he would.

Solution:

1. Cultivate and receive a love relationship with God that fills you full to the brim.
2. Seductively pour love on your husband out of the overflow of your feeling loved by God.
3. Do this a lot. Do this often. Do this for him.
4. Be friendly towards him, remembering how kind God is towards you even when you’re less than you ought to be.

The result:  You will love sex!  Your husband will be thrilled! He’ll be exhilarated with your love, he’ll find rest and comfort in you.  He may just fall over in shock!

Now, do this all summer, into the fall.  Then keep his bed hot during all the winter months. Surprise him in the spring. Do this for years and years and decades until you’re both old.

Those crinkles along his eyes will be all about you. You’ll be so inundated with all the healthy hormones that great sex releases (more about this later), that your own skin will glow without the costs of Botox and beauty supplies. Really.

And if you’re not married, this is what you have to look forward to, girls. A lifetime of getting from God and giving to your husband and receiving back more than you can imagine.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. I still can’t believe I’m talking so openly about this, girls. Thank you for cheering me on, for leaving comments that give me courage to open my heart wide, and for so fearlessly keeping this conversation going.

Your honesty and humility astound me.

P.S.S. I know there are men out there who have allowed themselves to be so perverted by pornography and sexual sin that no amount of pure loving will create this kind of passionate response. I am so sorry. Yet I also know that there are solutions. If that is your story, please get serious help. Stop hiding his sin and seek wise counsel. If you don’t, it will only get worse. If you do, God is more than willing and able to redeem the darkness.

Dear girls, Last week we talked about 5 truths about sex. Solid, unshakeable realities that are firmly rooted in God’s Word, interwoven through stories and verses, imbedded in Biblical poetry and prophesy and chronicled in epistles from beginning to end.

And this week as I read your comments and emails and messages I hear the lies that follow you right into the bedroom.

That you are not beautiful enough…

That you are not pure enough…

And, perhaps the most haunting of all, that your past prevents you from fully and freely relishing that romance and passion you long for. 

Early this morning I sensed the Spirit of God urging me awake, inviting me into His presence, waiting for me to ask Him for wisdom for you, my daughters with aching hearts and haunting questions.

“I want so desperately to be fully engaged when we are intimate but so many of my past experiences haunt me in ways I can’t begin to describe…

I frequently find myself struggling to simply feel something emotionally…

 Sometimes I feel like my heart has been permanently paralyzed and I wish with everything I could fully engage with my husband and lay aside the memories of my past…

I can’t help but feel like we are both continuing to be robbed for the sins I have already been forgiven for...

I would love to hear your thoughts on overcoming this and allowing God to heal us and make us new so that we can be fully free and fully engaged with our bodies and husbands which is the way God intended sex to be.

Could you possibly talk about how to re-learn sexual vulnerability for those of us who have been hurt in the past? 

And as I sit here alone while all the world sleeps, I listen.

Asking the One who knows, who sees, who saves your tears in a bottle, for wisdom… for grace… for the kind of truth that sets wounded women free.

Two words echo over and over again in my mind— one, surprisingly easy and refreshingly freeing, the other defeatingly difficult and even more freeing.

Repentance (the easy one that sets us free from shame).

Forgivenesss (the really hard one that sets us free from pain).

But first, a story.

One day at church, a young woman I know and love wanted to talk to me. Alone. Her husband stood just a little bit behind her with his hands in his pockets. He looked worried.

We found a private place where we wouldn’t be interrupted or overheard, made ourselves comfortable, and sat in silence. I could tell she was trying to compose herself, getting her emotions safely tucked away where they wouldn’t interfere with her story.

“I need to tell somebody some really horrible stuff. I just can’t get rid of the memories and I feel like I’m drowning in images from my past. My husband has no idea how to help and would be horrified if he heard the details of my life before I met him him. Yet those pictures won’t go away! Every time my husband touches me I see things… dark things I’ve done… and…”

Here she looked at me with such deep remorse it caught my breath,

“I cannot feel pleasure, not like I know it should. I hold back, afraid of freedom, afraid to feel.”

For the next hour my young friend laid it all out. Every single memory. Every sexual partner. What she saw. What she felt. Every layer of blackness that hung over her every time she made love to her husband.

And after each recalled and confessed memory she repented. She prayed. She paused. Then she confessed some more.

I just listened, feeling the horror with her, cursing the enemy under my breath for wrecking the life of such a lovely woman.

We held hands the whole time, and though her hands trembled, she didn’t shed a tear. Stoically, with immense determination, she just walked through her list of misery.

When she was done we sat in silence.

And then we started to worship. Spontaneously, filling up with such joy, such relief, we took turns praising and thanking and admiring the One who calls Himself Redeemer. The beauty of His blood washed over us as we reveled in His choice to love us “while we were yet sinners”. We laughed as we remembered that He adopted us, fully knowing who we are, what we’d done, what we’d do.

We didn’t sing, didn’t weep, didn’t disturb the holiness of the moment with much thought of our feelings. We just got caught up in wonder.

How can it be? The old hymn writer wondered, That Thou, My God should rescue me?

We both left that meeting stunned— not by the wretched ugliness of her confessions, but by the shocking grace of our God who sees it all and never wavers in His forgiveness.

And my friend left that meeting free. All those memories fell off her soul, crashing at the foot of the Cross… and stayed there.

And slowly, but surely, she began to feel again. Her husband’s arms became a refuge instead of a reminder. His love mirrored the love of her Redeemer. She responded with increasing joy, finding intense pleasure where tense pain had held her captive.

And me? I cannot remember anything she told me. The burden I had thought I would have to bear with her is lost somewhere in that flood of grace. I can recall the beauty of our worship but not even a bit of the blackness.

So strange… so strangely wonderful.

And I tell you all of that so that maybe some of you who are caught by soul binding chords of guilt and shame might consider a similar way to freedom.

James 5:16-18 in the Message paraphrase lays out the truth of what happened in that room like this:

Make this your common practice: Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you can live together whole and healed.

The prayer of a person living right with God is something powerful to be reckoned with. Elijah, for instance, human just like us, prayed hard that it wouldn’t rain, and it didn’t—not a drop for three and a half years. Then he prayed that it would rain, and it did. 

The showers came and everything started growing again.

Everything started to grow again. Just like my friend’s soul and marriage and sexuality began to grow again after she followed her courage to confession and repentance and acceptance of that overwhelming grace that only God can give.

This post is too long and I haven’t even addressed the second word: forgiveness. Maybe another time. For now, suffice it to say what I already have, that forgiveness is the key that sets us free from pain.

I love you, girls!

From my heart,

Diane

Ruth 4v18-22

Epilogue (Part Five) 

(Click here to listen to the seventh Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week

“LOVE ONE ANOTHER WITH BROTHERLY AFFECTION, - AS MEMBERS OF ONE FAMILY- GIVING PRECEDENCE AND SHOWING HONOR TO ONE ANOTHER.” Romans 12v10 AMB

More Words fro the Father

Romans 12

Colossians 3

From my Heart

Page from the past: December 1995

Us

A husband and a wife. Four children (including two teenagers, one pre-adolescent, and one toddler)! Two cats. One totally disobedient dog. And two horses. This is the make-up of our family. Needless to say, with all our comings and goings, individual personalities, and distinct wills, ours is not always a peaceful place. There is plenty of teasing and laughter…and fun. And if I'm honest, quite a few thunderclaps of conflict as well.

And I love it.

Oh, I don’t always like it. I am, after all, a woman who thrives on solitude, order, calm, quiet, and peace (rare qualities in this busy household). Yet I love the richness, the ever-changing variety, the heart-stopping intimacy of shared thoughts. I find such safety in the “kindred spirits” I have found in each of my family members.

I know what they like…

They know what I like…

We know what we like together.

There is something soul-satisfying about a shared beauty; a favorite song on the radio, a breath-taking sunset, or better yet, the groggy-eyed wonder of an early morning sunrise. When I see a brilliant rainbow with my family, it takes on a deeper beauty because we gasp in wonder together.

This family of mine is nothing like the still-life portrait I once imagined it would be. For goodness sake, we can’t even get a quick snapshot of all six of us smiling with all 12 eyes open at once!

I am learning, ever so slowly, that if I let go and stop trying to get everybody to be quiet and still and orderly, I enjoy this crazy crowd a whole lot more.

Though I treasure order, they do not. Though I love quiet, I have never known one of them to leave our noisy family circle to seek solitude for the sake of silence. They prefer noise, and lots of it. And while neatness seems essential to my peace of mind, not a one of the rest of them care a whit if the house is in perfect order before they go to bed, or when they get up, or anytime in between!

I’m finally getting it. That family peace consists more in letting go and accepting each other than in trying frantically to keep everybody calm, quiet, and tidy. I am learning that conflict is sometimes okay (will I ever really believe that?) and that closeness comes not by obliterating conflict, but by living with it comfortably.

We do not always agree. In fact, we rarely all agree. And that’s okay. It is when we graciously respect each other’s differing opinions and ways of doing things that friendship sprouts like well-watered weeds all over the relationships in this family.

So I am learning painstakingly slowly to let go and enjoy this crew of six. I am daily resisting the hundreds of urges to control and corral them into my version of the Happy Family.

They are they…

and I am me…

and together we are we.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

Genealogies

The Old Testament contains about two-dozen genealogical lists. The aim of these lists was to establish links from the past to the present. Biblical genealogies differ from the family trees that so many Americans attempt to reconstruct, in that they were linear genealogies. Lots and lots of names were left out, skipped over not because they were unknown, but because they were considered insignificant to the purpose of the list. Linear genealogies functioned as legal documents to legitimize claims to position, authority, or power.

This genealogy at the end of the book of Ruth was written, at least in part, in order to validate David’s claim to the throne. It starts with the name of Perez, who was the son of Judah, linking David’s ancestry to the promise given to Abraham.

The ancient Hebrew genealogies were usually limited to ten generations. In this descending format, the names at the beginning are the revered, honored founders whose stories lend examples of power and prestige, while the names at the end of the list were of the well-known recent generations.

This particular genealogy emphasizes how God included imperfect people in the generations who would bring about Israel’s greatest king, David. It gives us hope by showing us that He is in the habit of using messy stories. And if He can orchestrate the dysfunctional families of the past, perhaps He can redeem our own less-than-perfect lives.

The Abrahamic Covenant

Genesis 22v16-17

“By Myself I have sworn, declares the Lord,

because you have done this thing,

and have not withheld your son, your only son,

indeed I will greatly bless you,

and I will greatly multiply your seed

as the stars of the heavens,

and as the sand which is on the seashore;

and your seed shall possess the gate of their enemies.

And in your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed,

Because you have obeyed My voice.”

Once upon a time much, much different than ours, there lived a beautiful young woman. Her home was nestled in the hills of a land filled with scented cedar forests, rolling meadows, and dancing streams. Cave-like caverns had been carved into rock outcroppings where artisan wells offered cool respite on hot summer afternoons.

Every day Rebekah gathered at the well with other women of the region to fill jars full of refreshing water. These friends laughed and splashed and dreamed out loud of the love and adventure they hoped would come their way.

And every day Rebekah left those fleeting magical moments just a little more lonely.

What is wrong with me? She wondered.

Why do my insides ache with need?

Why can’t I be content like the other girls?

They seem so satisfied with all the same dreams— to catch the eye of one of the boys we have always known, to marry and bear his babies and stay right here.

To stay the same, always the same.

Why can’t I want that too?

Why do my dreams leave me bereft of hope?

Often she would cry in the lap of the nurse who had cared for her since infancy.  An old woman now, she was full of that fiercely loyal love that pulses through the veins of a lifetime caretaker. And she was the only one who understood.

One sweltering evening as the scorching desert sun finally inched its way behind the sacred mountains, Rebekah hurried to the well to fill the earthen jars with fresh water. She loved this time of day, a chance to leave the stifling tents, to splash refreshing liquid over her dusty face, to get away from the monotony of reality.

As Rebekah emerged from the hallowed out cave entry to the well, her water jars sloshing, feet slipping in the red mud, she spotted a strange man waiting. He looked old, wizened, and very, very hot.

Please, he said in a sand choked voice, will you give me a drink?

Certainly, sir, and she lowered her jug for him to drink.

Sympathizing with his obvious exhaustion, Rebekah offered to fetch water for his camels as well. Their plaintive moans making their need obvious.

Down she ran to the bubbling water, then up again with the heavy jar.  The camels drank deeply, forcing Rebekah back again and again for more of the desert treasure. When the camels were finally satiated, the servant silently held out a gift.

In his hand, lay a glittering nose ring and two intricately carved gold bracelets. Their beauty took her breath away.

For me? But, but, why?

All the man would tell her was that he came from far away and needed a place to rest for the night. Hurrying to her brother’s house, Rebekah showed him the treasures and recounted the story of the strange traveler.

Laban saw the opportunity for what it was— a chance to earn some much needed gold. He welcomed the man in, eager to know his business.

To Rebekah’s utter surprise, the strange servant told a mystical story of an enormously wealthy father from far away who had sent his servant to find a worthy wife for his son and heir. The servant seemed certain that Rebekah met all criteria his master had requested.

Would she pack her things and mount his camels and come away with him?

A home of her own to care for, a man of her own to love, a life away from the dreariness of her daily life— she practically ran for the camel train.

Was this it? A fleeting chance to embrace adventure? To break away from the everyday? Dare she link her life to a man she’d never met? A man different than all the boys who’d filled her charmed childhood?

Everything in Rebekah’s soul cried yes!

In a flurry of planning and packing, Rebekah, with her much loved nurse beside her, faced her future with all the courage of a beautiful woman awaiting her prince.

On the dusty camel ride to her unknown home, Rebekah had plenty of time to regret her impulsivity. Yet the sheer newness of her ever-changing surroundings kept her looking forward, searching for the future she’d only dreamed of.

What little she knew about this man who would be her husband intrigued her. He was an only child, coddled by both his mother and his father.  With a rich heritage of faith and wealth beyond her wildest imaginings, Isaac was certainly the most eligible bachelor she’d ever heard of.

This was a fantasy way beyond what she had dreamed. A love story so delicious it read like a fairy tale. She was on her way to meet her Prince Charming and to live happily ever after.

By the time the caravan’s journey was drawing near to her new husband’s home, Rebekah could barely sit upright in the saddle. Every bone ached, her hair felt like a ratted mess of dust and sweat. Covered head to toe, Rebekah felt more like an ancient mummy than the beautiful bride of a rich prince.

Her frequent groanings and persistent complaints finally induced the servant to stop short of their goal. Their camp that night edged the graveled banks of a shallow river. With her nurse providing cover, Rebekah slipped into the cool water with a sigh of relief. Luxurating in the moon lit moment of privacy, she allowed herself just a moment to imagine what lay ahead.

Would her husband approve of the servant’s choice? Would he be kind? Gentle?

Looking at the whiteness of her skin she wondered what he would think of her?  Would her body please him? Would he want her? No man had ever glimpsed so much as a hint of the form of her womanhood, encased in great swathes of cloth as she always was.

What would it be like to unveil herself to this stranger?

Thinking about the story the servant had told her of Isaac’s deep grieving for his mother who had so recently died, Rebekah’s sympathetic nature longed to love the pain away— to ease the ache by wrapping him in her arms and drawing him close.

The next day brought hope on the horizon. Her new family’s fields lay everywhere she looked. Lush and growing, straight rows pushed out of the tilled earth, bursting with promise. Here was a heritage of hard work, evidence of men who went after their own dreams. Rebekah’s respect for her soon-to-be-husband grew with each step of her weary camel.

Who was that in the distance? Why was her heart pounding so? Could it be him?

Quickly, she slid off the side of the lumbering giant, straightening her garment. Rummaging through her bag, she hurriedly threw off the yards of dusty linen, replacing her covering with a delicately woven veil. Her wedding veil.

She would walk on her own two feet to meet her prince. No hiding for her! She would face this man who held her future in his hands. Mustering all the grace she could manage, Rebekah met Isaac as he came across the field in the waning light.

What she saw nearly took her breath away. Isaac was nothing like the boys who had her filled her childhood with laughter and annoyance. Before her stood a man with the callused hands and broad shoulders of one whose life was spent working.

But what caught her heart were those eyes that barely looked her way. Sad eyes, brimming with deep grief. Every part of her being longed to reach out and soothe that sadness away.

But first the servant must tell his story. Every agonizing detail. When would he ever stop? Isaac kept glancing her way. Catching her staring at him. The slightest smile. Was that a dimple?

On and on the servant droned until Rebekah thought she’d burst. When Isaac cleared his throat, sitting up straight as if to speak, the servant fell silent. Ah! The ceremony. Of course.

Hurriedly, as if to get it over with as quickly as possible, the servant recited the words that would bind Isaac and Rebekah together for the rest of their lives. The timbre of his voice intrigued her as he recited the ancient promises.

Hidden behind her veil, Rebekah could only wish for a chance to know the kind of love she dreamed of. What would he think of her? Could he be as full of fear and wonder and hope as she?

Leading her to his tent, his hand barely brushing her back, Rebekah’s knees nearly gave way. So soon! Before she could fall, Isaac reached for her, holding her to himself. He stopped.

Rebekah, are you afraid? 

Yes, yes— no! No, of course not.

Isaac’s whole being stilled. Gently, firmly, he turned her towards another tent, one set aside from the cluster of the camp.

Let’s go in here instead. This was my mother’s tent, you’ll feel safe here. 

Brushing aside the heavily draped opening, Isaac ushered his bride into a place of wonder and beauty. Her breath caught as she unwrapped the lacy fabric that hid her face— a palace in the middle of this manly camp! Rich tapestries lined the walls, piles of soft furs beckoned. Rebekah’s soul responded to the invitation of warmth and welcome.

Turning to Isaac, Rebekah knew without words that his giving of this gift was as unexpected to her husband as it was to her. An offering of tenderness, of protection, of understanding... of love.

Now it was her turn to give. To offer him her beauty. To bring her whole self to her husband, without borders or boundaries or inhibition or fear.

This man who grieved— yet gave that grief to her in a moment of unselfish intimacy. She would give herself fully to him. She would ease his pain. She would invite him into the depths of herself with joy and abandon.

And so Isaac loved Rebekah there. And Rebekah brought him the comfort only she could offer. A comfort that healed the brokenness of his hurting and brought hope again.

Genesis 24

(my version)

From my heart,

Diane

Girls, I hope you enjoyed my imaginings. And I hope you will read the real story for yourselves— especially that last benediction, verse 67. Because tucked into that last phrase lies a secret every woman should know.

Do you see it?

Have you grasped the immeasurable power of a woman to be a beautiful hiding place for her husband?  A refuge and relief from all the hurts and pressures and fears and worries that dog their steps?

Have you understood, at last, the deepest need of your man? To be embraced and loved in the way only you can love him?

Will you be that safe place for the man God gave you?

More on this next week… and please, your vulnerable words of comment are compelling me to dive deeper into expressing the words of what we all want— the way to a richer and fuller intimacy and joy.

From my heart,

Diane

Ruth 4v18-22

Epilogue (Part Four)

(Click here to listen to the seventh Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week

“THEREFORE COMFORT ONE ANOTHER WITH THESE WORDS.” 1 Thessalonians 4v18

More Words from the Father

1 John 4v7-5v21

1 Thessalonians 4v13-5v11

From my Heart

You

We’ve read the stories of Ruth and Naomi, Boaz and Orpah, Elimelech and his sons. Add to that mix King Eglon, Rahab, Salmon, Tamar, and several others. In the process, I’ve told you about me - my fears and my failures, my life and loves. But what about your story?

I’ve gathered together ten questions for you. Ten queries about who you are and who you want to be. I’ve left no room for you to fill in the blanks, for these are thinking questions – the kind you bring before the Father in those quiet, questioning hours before life’s pressures push you through your day.

I would urge you to ponder prayerfully. Think about your relationships, examine the way you use your time. Every once in a while we need to take stock of our lives and make sure we are who we want to be, that we’re doing what our Redeemer redeemed us for. After all, your story will end someday too.

From my heart,

Diane

Ten Questions

1. Who am I?

2. Who do I want to be?

3. What’s stopping me from being who I want to be?

4. What do I need to do now?

5. What kind of woman do I want to be when I’m old?

6. Who do I want to miss me when I’m gone?

7. Who needs more of me now?

8. How can I organize my life to make this happen?

9. Where does God fit into my wants and wishes?

10. Am I going after God with every ounce of my being?

ETC

Tamar’s Story

Tamar was Perez’s mother. Her story reads like a desperate soap opera set in the middle of the great patriarchal biographies. It is an ugly story, filled with deception and danger. This is not a history to be proud of. So why is it here? Why highlight this particular tragedy by including it in both David’s and Jesus’ genealogies? What is there about this story that the Author of the Scriptures wanted to be sure to communicate to us?

The story starts with Judah, one of the twelve sons of Israel, separating himself from his family. He is appalled at the shameful plot he got involved in to sell his brother, Joseph, into slavery in Egypt. Watching his father grieve over the loss of his younger son was Judah’s undoing. Instead of staying to face the consequences, Judah ran from his family in a futile attempt to forget his guilt. While away, he met a woman, married her, and started a family.

His firstborn son, Er, needed a wife so Judah found him a Canaanite bride by the name of Tamar. Because of his evil ways, God chose to take Er’s life, leaving Tamar a childless widow.

Following the levirate practice, Judah demanded that his next son marry Tamar, which he did with great reluctance. Onan took advantage of Tamar’s situation by enjoying the privileges of sexual pleasure for himself but “spilling his seed” in order to prevent her from getting pregnant. God took him too.

By now Judah is looking on Tamar with suspicion. Two sons dead on their honeymoon! Making promises he has no intention of keeping, he sends Tamar back home to her father’s house to wait for his next son to grow up. Years pass. Tamar knows that her future is sealed if she does not get a son soon. So she concocts a deception of her own. Knowing that Judah is now a widower, she dresses up like a prostitute and offers herself to him in exchange for payment. Without so much as a twinge of conscience, Judah has sex with the disguised Tamar for the price of a goat. She gets pregnant.

Three months later, a rumor reaches Judah that his ex-daughter-in-law is pregnant with an illegitimate baby. Outraged, Judah demands her death by burning. When Tamar is roughly dragged in front of him to be humiliated before her death, she rises up to bring evidence that it is Judah himself who is the father of this child.

Silenced and humbled, Judah acknowledges his sin in the matter and saves her life. Soon after, Tamar gives birth to twin boys. One of them, Perez, is named in the family of King David, and hundreds of years later, in the genealogy of Jesus.

“…But still there was no helper just right for him.

So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep. While the man slept, the Lord God took out one of the man’s ribs and closed up the opening. Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib, and he brought her to the man.

“At last!” the man exclaimed. “This one is bone from my bone, and flesh from my flesh! 
She will be called ‘woman’
, because she was taken from ‘man.’”

This explains why a man leaves his father and mother and is joined to his wife, and the two are united into one.

 Now the man and his wife were both naked, but they felt no shame.”

Genesis 2:20-25 NLT

(If you missed last week, click here)

Dear girls,

When Adam first laid eyes on Eve, his attraction to her was instant. Her beauty lifted him out of a state of deep sleep, propelling him to want her as his own. She was the perfect counterpart to his maleness, the answer to all the loneliness he’d felt for so long.

The power of Adam’s response to Eve shook him to his core, revealing his deep vulnerability.

A man in command of all of Creation, he craved physical and emotional and spiritual connection with this one so like himself... yet so deliberately, delightfully different.

Everything made sense when Eve came into his life: the longings he’d wondered about, the twinges of emptiness, the shape of his body, his driving desire for more.

For the first time in his existence, Adam needed someone. And every son of Adam since has felt that same need.

And you, my dear, beautiful daughter of Eve, are the one made in the image of God, the one who holds Adam’s sacred need— his great vulnerability— in your power. Your God-created beauty lifts him from the weariness of work and struggle and striving and conflict… into a world of wonder and delight.

When the softness of your skin brushes his in a whisper of invitation, every sense is awakened.

When your eyes tell secrets only he knows, his heart responds.

When you bring him into the circle of your warmth, wrapping your arms around his strength, his carefully protected core is unveiled.

Your man needs you. He wants you. He hurts without you.

And perhaps that is part of the reason why the Creator gave us so many words about safeguarding this treasure of sexual intimacy. Because the act of intercourse was meant to be so much more than two bodies selfishly seeking satisfaction. So much more than all the hurt and pain so many misused women know. Infinitely  more magical and mysterious than the movies show and magazines reveal.

And so, my dear girls, in the weeks and months ahead, I will set aside my natural reticence to talk to you from time to time about the way God designed your husband’s intense sexual cravings to be satisfied by you. And about how He created you with the same need, though awakened in different ways, so that you would find release and rest and deep satisfaction in the arms of your husband.

And for those of you who are not yet married, I hope to open your heart to understand the treasure you hold in your own beauty. I want you to understand why storing that treasure in a safe place for your husband-to-be is the best way to fully embrace your own sexuality. I want you to know that protecting your purity is the surest way to be able to fully and without inhibition give yourself to that God-chosen man when the time is right.

This is not easy for me to write about. What if I am misunderstood? What if my words add shame to a woman’s guilt? What if I say it wrong or crass or weird?

It was one thing to sit on the edge of my daughter’s bed at night and whisper sweet wonders about the honeymoon ahead… and quite another to let those words leak out to whoever may be listening.

The reason I am willing to choke back my reserve and push the words on paper is first of all because I genuinely love you. As the apostle Paul wrote, “It is right that I should feel as I do about all of you, for you have a very special place in my heart…” Philippians 1:7 NLT

And I believe that in the midst of all the devastation and failure and addiction and sheer ugliness of sexual perversion, the Church has lost her voice.  We have forgotten to speak and sing and teach about the beauty and the artistry of sexuality as God created it.

A very long way to say, I think its time for us to talk about sex.

Can we readjust the way we think about this gift? Can we begin to see ourselves as the beautiful answer to our husband’s great vulnerability? Dare we believe that the love we give is sacred?

Next week I want to tell you a story about a beautiful woman whose pure, uninhibited love lifted her young husband out of despair and into a life of success and riches.  And lo and behold, it’s a story straight out of the pages of Scripture…

Are you with me? Will you give me grace to stumble my way along as we talk “privately” about how to love our husbands in the way they long to be loved?

Will you let me know? I’m writing alone in my chair by the window, wondering what in the world I’ve gotten myself into…

From my heart,

Diane

Ruth 4v18-22

Epilogue (Part Three)

(Click here to listen to the seventh Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week

“FOR THE EYES OF THE LORD MOVE TO AND FRO THROUGHOUT THE EARTH THAT HE MAY STRONGLY SUPPORT THOSE WHOSE HEART IS COMPLETELY HIS.” 2 Chronicles 16v9 NASB

More Words from the Father

Psalm 139

1 Corinthians 9v24-10v15

From my Heart

The End

This week our story has ended. The characters we have grown to love are gone. Ruth, Boaz, and even Naomi are silent. Simply a memory.

Yet the list of names tacked on at the end - that genealogy which we so easily skip over -represents real lives, people who lived and loved and made history.

When someday my life falls silent, I’ll leave a list as well. John Mark, Tammy, Jude, Moses, Sunday, Rebekah and Steve, Elizabeth, Brook, Duke, Scarlet and Matt. My sons and daughters. My grandkids. Maybe even a few extras grafted in. All people who will live and love and make history themselves.

The story is never really over. God started something way back in Genesis which is not ever going to be finished. There is no “The End.”

You will leave a legacy. And it is the cry of my heart that our stories -yours and mine- will be included in the annuls of the Kingdom just as Ruth and Boaz and Naomi’s were. That someday when we gather together in that place we’ll call home, you and I will sit down and read those histories together. They will, no doubt, be edited by His great grace. A few spots may well be covered over by His beautiful blood. And, my dear sisters, I think we might be surprised to find that the ending reads something like this:

“And they lived happily ever after…”

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

Ruth and the Feast of Pentecost

It is the ancient custom of devout Jews to read the story of Ruth during the Shavout, the Feast of Pentecost. This Jewish holiday occurs exactly seven weeks, or 50 days, after the Passover. The name Pentecost comes from the Greek word for “fiftieth,” and signifies the gathering of the wheat harvest. Why Ruth is read during this festival, no one knows for sure. Perhaps the connection to harvest with Ruth’s gleaning brought this story into the celebrations. Today, orthodox Jews give thanks to God for bringing His Word, the Torah, to His people during the Shavout celebrations. Here is what they say about Ruth:

“As a result of her embrace of Torah, Ruth’s life was utterly transformed. She rose from the existence of a penniless and barren widow, facing a miserable present and a bleak future, to a life of spiritual richness and fulfillment, leaving an eternal mark as the progenitor of the Davidic dynasty.”

My child, listen to what I say…tune your ears to wisdom,
and concentrate on understanding.

Cry out for insight, 
and ask for understanding.

Search for them as you would for silver; seek them like hidden treasures.

Then you will understand what is right… and you will find the right way to go.

For wisdom will enter your heart,
 and knowledge will fill you with joy…

Proverbs 2:1-11 NLT

My dear girls,

Once upon a time… I thought loving a man was simple.

I was so sure of myself— certain I knew what to do, how to be. I’d read the fairy tales; admired Rapunzel’s allure, seen the Beauty love the Beast back to himself, watched in wonder as Snow White came fully alive.

I could do this too. I could love a man and keep on loving him for a lifetime. Our love would be so full and so generous and so beautiful as to wrap us up in romance forever and ever.

And I was wrong. I fumbled from the get-go. A month into our marriage I knew my methods weren’t working the way I’d thought they would. My formulas were falling apart and I didn’t know what to do... so I just did the best I could. And it wasn’t enough.

Now, thirty-five years of loving later…  I know why my loving fell short.

And it wasn’t because of lack of effort— I tried hard. I read books and watched people and did all the things I thought I ought to do.

Plain and simple, my loving fell short because of it was mostly about me. About me being loving and loveable and alluring. About me loving him so fiercely that he couldn’t help but return my love with passion and loyalty forever.

And when Phil failed to respond to all my ferocious loving the way I’d been so sure he would…

I got mean.

I got defeated.

I got mad.

I got hurt.

A lot of I messing up the romance I'd imagined. 

Here is the amazing beauty of our Redeemer in the midst of our messiness…

He let’s us fail.

He let me fail. And in that failure, He began to teach me the first lessons of brokenness, of what it means to find my hope and delight and joy in my real Prince Charming.

In Jesus.

In those days of defeated loving, I stumbled upon a jewel of a book. It’s still one of my treasured favorites, written by a man who knew what he was talking about- Roy Hession. In The Calvary Road, he wrote:

The Lord Jesus cannot live in us fully and reveal Himself through us until the proud self is broken.  This simply means that the hard unyielding self, which justifies itself, wants its own way, stands up for its rights,  and seeks its own glory, at last bows its head to God’s will, admits its wrong, gives up its own way to Jesus, surrenders its rights and discards its own glory— that the Lord Jesus might have all and be all.

In other words, it is dying to self and self-attitudes.

As this stubborn, perfectionist, idealist, determined woman began to yield and break and die, something strange occurred in my soul.

A desire began to grow; a pulsing, driving desire to love my husband for the sake of my Savior. Not for me and what I expected to receive in return— but just for the One who was so tenderly drawing me close to Himself.

Rather than renew my self-efforts of trying so hard to love the way I thought I should, He began to teach me how to love my husband His way.

And that led me to understand why my loving had not produced the response I’d expected.

In one word: ignorance.

I didn’t have a clue how to love a man— my man— the way God had designed him to be loved. All that work and I was missing it!

And I think I’m not alone in my ignorance. I think most women are missing it— not by a mile, but by just a few millimeters of mis-done loving. We’re loving in the ways we know how and wondering why it’s not enough. Why our men don’t act and feel lavishly loved by us.

And then, as women are prone to do, we think there must be something wrong with him.

Of course.

And all this defeat over not quite getting it right, and wondering why and what’s wrong with him and with me and with us, led me to that age-old invitation imbedded in the book of James:

If any of you is deficient in wisdom,

let him ask of the giving God (who gives) to everyone liberally and ungrudgingly, without reproaching or faultfinding,

and it will be given to him.

James 1v5 Amplified Bible

That’s me!

Deficient in wisdom.

Ignorant and knowing it.

Falling far short of the kind of love I’d always imagined would wrap my man’s heart up tight.

And so I went searching. I asked this giving-God for wisdom.  I asked Him how to love my man for His sake.

And do you know, my dear girls, He just started pouring it on! Words and phrases, verses and stories, snatches of insight here and there that are opening my eyes to see the way to loving a man well. To loving my man well.

But the best discovery of all has been the simplicity of God’s way. Not as in easy to do— but as in easy to know.

Going back over and over to the Scriptures, asking Him for wisdom, searching for the treasures there, I’d hoped to find a whole long list of ways to love a man well.

I found only four.  Four ways the Creator of men specifically directs women to love their husbands.  Not 101— just four. Yet within those four ways He designed our men to be loved, are hundreds and thousands of possibilities.

And so, over the next several weeks- all summer, probably— that’s what we’ll be talking about here on Mondays. And for just a hint of what’s ahead… here are the four:

Sexuality and friendliness and help and respect…

Be his lover, be his friend, be his partner, be his admirer.

I can hardly wait to get this conversation started...because, after all these years, I’m finally understanding how my husband needs to be loved by me. And guess what? He’s eating it up! As in responding like… well, like a well-loved man.

From my heart,

Diane

Okay girls, whether you're married or still waiting for the right one and the right time, now is the time to learn how to love a man God's way. Can you tell us what you know? Or who you've seen do this well? I'm hoping for some guest posts from women who've become experts in the art of loving wisely.

Ruth 4v18-22

Epilogue (Part Two)

(Click here to listen to the next Ruth teaching)

Verse of the Week

“BE STRONG AND COURAGEOUS!” Joshua 1v9 NASB

More Words from the Father

Joshua 2

Joshua 6v21-27

Hebrews 11v30-40

James 2v20-26

1 Peter 3v4-6

From my Heart

What is it You Want?

Rahab was a woman who knew how to get what she wanted. And what she wanted was what we all want: security, wealth, recognition, family, influence, health, and safety. One thing was missing from her list, though - love. Rahab was willing to sacrifice love in order to get her grasp around every opportunity that came her way. And she had that rare inborn entrepreneurial ability to recognize opportunity which can make certain men and women wildly successful. In our day, I have no doubt Rahab would have been heralded among the rich and famous. Paparazzi would have hounded her while People magazine splashed her face and figure on the cover page.

Yet reading her story, I can’t help but wonder - What happened to Rahab that propelled her into prostitution? Why would this woman give up on the dream of being pursued and sought and valued? How could Rahab choose wealth over love? Security over romance?

And why would I?

Why would I sell my soul for cheap trinkets?

I want everything that Rahab wanted. I want security. I want to feel safe. I want to know that I will have all I need and maybe a little more all the way up until its time for me to go home to heaven. And I want wealth too, sure I do. Be honest with yourself, you do too! I am far from content with the bare basics. I want to be healthy, wealthy, and wise - surrounded by a family who adores me. Is that so bad?

Maybe...

If those wants and wishes drive me to pursue them at the cost of love. If, instead of surrendering my life’s circumstances to the One who loves me like no other, I strive and connive to get what I want no matter what.

How about you? What have you sacrificed to get what you want? What you think you need? Have you lost a little of your passion for your Redeemer along the way?

If you have, then this story is your story.

Somewhere deep inside, Rahab held on to a tiny spark of hope for something more. When she heard about the Israelites camped down the road, and about their God who had such power, that spark leapt into a raging fire. The moment she got her chance to come under the protection of this God, Rahab risked everything she had. All her wealth, her home, her security, her reputation, and her safety. Even her family! How could she know if they would go along with her plan?

Rahab’s life was transformed by the power of faith. She thrust herself at God’s feet and got up to aggressively go after Him with every ounce of her being. And in so doing, Rahab’s life was rescued from all the ugliness and emptiness she had filled it with.

God is still in the habit of rescuing broken women. What He loved about Rahab - enough to put her into His son’s heritage - was her unerring trust in His goodness. Rahab risked everything of value to her in order to belong to Him. She proved her faith by her actions. She set aside her fear, her worries and her illicit patterns of self-protection in order to entrust herself to God.

I can’t help but admire this woman. And, strange as it may be to say it, I find myself wanting to be like this ex-prostitute (please don’t tell my kids I said that!). She is both bold and beautiful, courageous and crafty. Rahab, more than any woman I know, had the guts to go after God with her whole heart.

And that’s something to think about.

From my heart,

Diane

ETC

Rahab’s Story

Rahab was a successful woman. She ran a thriving hotel, entertained powerful men, had the attention of her city-state’s ruling monarch, invested in the growing commodity market of linen, and owned a house which was the envy of every woman in town.

How do I know all that? Well, read up on her in Joshua, chapter 2.

Two spies were sent by Israel’s new leader, Joshua, to spy out the city of Jericho. With the million-strong encampment of the Hebrews camped uncomfortably close to the walled city, security in Jericho was at level red. In order to slip in unobtrusively, these two spies made their way to the bustling hospitality business Rahab ran from her home.

In a day when there were no Comfort Inns, Rahab took advantage of her city’s strategic location at the only major ford between the Jabbok River and the Dead Sea. She regularly took in travelers, no doubt charging them exorbitant prices for her enviable location.

And sometimes she did more than give them a room. She gave herself – for a price. Rahab watched her nest egg grow at the expense of her soul. Somehow she managed to harden her heart against the inner loathing every woman feels when she sells her body in exchange for survival.

Rahab was ambitious. She wanted more. Seeing the rising trade in linen from far away Egypt, she figured out a way to obtain the stalks of flax from which fine linen was made. The flat roof of her house rising high above the city made a precipitous place to process the tough fibers. First soaking them in water, then dragging them to the rooftop to soak in the sun was not a task for the timid. But Rahab wasn’t afraid of hard work. She was driven by the insatiable thirst for more.

Protecting all those assets in a male dominated society kept Rahab’s stress level on alert at all times. When a rumor reached her ears that the march of the dreaded Hebrews was headed her way, she took inventory of all she owned and searched for a solution. The power of the Hebrew god was too great to stand against.

Never before had Rahab heard of one god who controlled the weather and the sea and all the natural world. The gods of her experience were puny, competitive deities who were easily appeased with rituals and sacrifice. Listening to the city leaders debate strategy, Rahab knew they didn’t stand a chance against such power. Let them talk all they want, she would do what she must to secure her future.

Rahab’s vigilance apparently paid off. The Hebrew spies sought lodging in her home.

As a logical location to blend in with other travelers. It didn’t take Rahab long to see through their disguise, nor did it take long for rumors of their whereabouts to reach the ears of the king of Jericho.

As Rahab hurried to hide the men amongst the flax on her roof, she must have weighed her options. Turn them over to the authorities and incur the king’s favor with its lucrative reward, or hide the men at great risk to her life in the hopes that they would be obligated to return the favor if and when the Hebrews attacked. She chose the latter.

Their hiding place would not have endeared her to these men. The stalks of flax were soggy, having been soaked in stagnant water to separate the fibers. It would have been a ripe incubator of all sorts of insects. The unbearable stench choked the men as they lay in the midst of the mess wondering if Rahab had led them into a trap.

But Rahab had made up her mind, and when she decided something, she didn’t back down. Downstairs, she used all her cunning and probably a few feminine wiles to convince the guards that she had seen the spies heading out the gate near her home, headed for the hills. The soldiers set out after the phantom men as the city gate was lowered behind them.

Before Rahab led the spies to safety, she gathered her years of business acumen to negotiate a contract which would ensure security for herself and her family. Letting the spies down the massive wall with a woven rope put Rahab in a position to bargain - her life in exchange for their safe escape. When the Israelites attacked the city, Rahab would set out an identifying strand of scarlet cord. This was to be the signal that her house and her entire family were to remain under the direct protection of the men whose lives she had saved.

Sure enough, on the day of the invasion, Joshua directed his men to “go into the harlot’s house and bring the woman and all she has out of there, as you have sworn to them.” As her city was being ransacked, Rahab was led to safety, bringing not only her family with her, but also “all she had.”

What now? They couldn’t live alone on the outskirts of the ruins of Jericho. Once again, Rahab’s forward thinking saved the day. The family followed the Israelites, living at first on the outer edges of their encampment. At some point however, Rahab must have embraced the God of the Hebrews for whom she held such great respect. Though the men of Israel were not permitted to associate with the women of the foreign lands they were invading, they could marry one who converted to their faith. One of these men, a man by the name of Salmon, chose Rahab to be his bride. Elevated from her former reputation as a harlot, Rahab now had full legal and social protection as his wife.

A nice story, you might say. Indeed, but it gets even better.

Rahab and her family are absorbed into the wandering nation of Israel. She settles in a little town called Bethlehem, married to a man of standing. There, Rahab begins a family of her own, eventually bearing a son by the name of Boaz. When Boaz grows up, he follows in the footsteps of his father and finds a wife of somewhat shady heritage but stalwart character (that would be Ruth). She presents him with a son, whose name is Obed.

As Rahab’s physical beauty gives way to wrinkles and grey hair, the beauty of her life lived under the protection of Yahweh blossoms. Her grandson grows up to have a son of his own, whom he names Jesse. Around the family hearth, Jesse hears stories of his great-grandmother’s courage and his great-grandfather’s love for her. Jesse has seven sons of his own. The youngest, born long after Rahab has passed into the presence of God, grows up to be the king of Israel.

By this time, Rahab’s story is but a distant memory - her name left out of the patriarchal genealogies of Hebrew history. But God has a way of remembering His own. In the opening pages of the biography of His Son, God inserts Rahab’s name into Jesus’ biological line of descent. There it is, right in the forefront of Jesus’ family tree - Rahab. It’s almost as if God is proud of her!

Jump ahead a few decades, and her name pops up again. In that famous tribute to men and women of great faith, Hebrews, chapter 11, we see this inscription: “By faith Rahab the harlot did not perish along with those who were disobedient, after she welcomed the spies in peace.”

Flip over a few pages to the epistle of James and Rahab is once again used as a fine example of faith that works. This woman’s sordid story is told all over the pages of our Bibles! Why? Because Rahab was real. Like us, she struggled. Like us, Rahab’s life was all about choices - both good and bad. Some of those choices came back to haunt her. But in the end, she had the guts to follow her heart – right to her Redeemer.

I can’t help but wonder, as I study her story, if Rahab had any idea that God would use her so? As she picked up the pieces of her shattered life after the fall of Jericho, did she ever despair? Did she think her usefulness was over?

And why did God give us her story? Why stretch it out, this history of harlotry and intrigue? Could He have had Rahab in mind when he wrote in 1 Peter 3 of His “precious” women from former times who put their hope in God?

And one last question:

Could it be that your story could end like hers?