We spent our honeymoon holed up in a cozy inn on the edge of the sea. Every day we walked the winding road that led higher into the hills, rambling past the stone house we dreamed of owning someday, along the stream framed by lush ferns, to a bend in the road where we could overlook the whole world. And there we stood, breathing in the greatness.

Then we’d ramble back, filled full from that sight of something bigger than ourselves. As we walked, we talked and listened and discovered and dreamed— about the future, about what might be, about what we might do and where we might go.

In that suspended part of our lives we didn’t stress or strive or write lists or assign tasks. We just walked… and hoped.

And as we tarried in that two week time between the rush of the wedding and the press of what our lives would soon be, we puzzled over a sign tucked into the flowers on the fence:

Restabitfortisarareplacetorestat

The owners of the inn wouldn’t tell us what it meant, just laughed when we asked and told us we’d figure it out. They seemed so sure.

And so we’d cock our heads and sound it out and shrug our shoulders in that way of two lovers on their way to more loving. Probably Latin… or Gaelic… or just a pretty piece of nonsense put together to add a bit of quaint.

Until the day we saw, with opened eyes, that by adding spaces and maybe a comma or two, the mystery was made clear:

Rest a bit, for tis a rare place to rest at.

That refuge overlooking crashing waves and sparkling ocean was indeed a rare place to rest at. A place to love and discover and receive… and now a place to remember— how to rest.

Because real rest is rare.

And being a woman at rest is rarer still.

And I’m asking myself… and asking my Father, how to be this woman at rest. And here is what I’m hearing…

That rest— soul deep rest— is found only in God.

Not in a pretty place, not in an expensive vacation, not even in having all my hopes and dreams realized… but just in Him. Because He is the only safe place. He is the always-faithful One. Only in Him am I really, truly happy and at rest.

But how do I find that place? How do I reach that spot where I can see the whole world at my feet and open my arms to full, unhindered joy?

Here, my dear girls, is the beginning of a list. And I’m hoping you’ll add to it so that we can learn and grow to be women marked by restfulness. But for now—

Four Ways Into Rest

1.  Rest yourself in God

The most rest-filled moment in any day is that set aside time when it’s just me and God. My Bible is open, I’ve a notebook just in case, maybe a book filled with wisdom and insight… and I’m alone with Him.

This is where worry turns to waiting. This is where all that troubles me is laid at His feet. This is where I am at rest.

2.  Set aside a place to rest

While I was writing these words, my sistas were texting messages to each other early in the morning. I think it was Jules who sent the first picture. It was her spot in the window where she waits to hear God, with her Bible wide open and her heart surrendered. Then each of us started texting pictures of the place we find that rest from all that harries us.

Because place is important. Whether it’s a favorite chair or a corner by the window, fill your place with beauty. Make it a place where your soul responds to God.

 3.  Find people who bring you back to rest

In an old book, written to a woman whose life was filled with the unrest that comes from living among people who were conflict driven and unkind, I read these words:

“Do not hesitate to solace yourself with the society of some congenial, pious friends.”

My “congenial, pious” friends bring me back again and again to that place of soul rest. They remind me of what I know and need to hear over and over. And they do it in a way that is congenial. Those are friendships worth cultivating.

 4.  Ramble in a restful place

Getting outside into the place God fills with His created beauty is the surest way to rest that I know. Breathing deeply, opening my eyes to beauty, feeling the rain on my face or the sun on my back, while I ramble in the woods by my house… I hear Him there. To go a day or a week or any length of time without getting outside to purposely pursue His created world makes my soul stressed and leaves my thinking kinked into uselessness.

We need the garden He placed us in.

In a few weeks Phil and I will be returning to that little inn on the edge of the sea where we started our story.  We’ll rest there, and remember. We’ll amble along the road above and pass the stone cottage, the hidden stream, the oaks hung with moss, and we’ll come to that place where all the world lies under our feet.

We’ll breath deep and dream…

From a heart still learning to rest a bit,

Diane

P.S. Okay, can you add to my list? How do you find that place in your soul where rest fills you full of the Father? We learn from each other, “congenial friends”…

(image by Bethany Small)

Vision

“Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness.

Delight yourself in the LORD; and He will give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the LORD, trust in Him, and He will do it.”

Psalm 37:3-5 NASB

Dear Matt and Simona,

Welcome back! Your honeymoon is now a memory; an oasis to look back at in the midst of the daily crush of bills and schedules and errands and work and that seemingly fruitless fight to keep up.

And so today I want to talk to the two of you about the way into this life you are forging. About the front door and the welcome and the vision of what lies ahead. Because if you get this right, if you consciously wipe the mud off your shoes and purposefully choose to tread carefully, you will experience a welcoming transition into your new life together.

Today I want to talk to you both about vision. Because I have seen that the surest way to the oneness you both want is shared vision.

Vision is the thesis, the purpose statement, the framework for who you want to be and how you want to live.

And the best way for two people to walk as one with the least amount of chaffing is to both know where you are going.

But here’s the problem: you both want different things.

Of course you do! Just like every one else I know, just like your dad and I. Wanting different values to be the shaping factor of your vision for the future is normal.  And sometimes, when you each bring those different purposes to the front door trying to fit them in takes some thorough thinking.

You saw this in action while planning your wedding.

Simona, you envisioned elegance and intimacy, a time to relish those who are close to you. You saw your wedding as a suspended moment of beauty, of love expressed in hushed reverence.

Not Matt. He saw a party with every friend, every potential friend, every person who has ever brought delight into his life. He didn’t care so much about beauty or elegance or hush… he wanted fun and dancing— to shout at the top of his joy that he is in love!

And together, with a few tears, a bit of tension, and many long talks, the two of you found a balance of both.

Your wedding was beautiful, elegant, with hushed moments of sacred sweetness.

And your wedding was fun.

John Mark teased his little brother with a hilarity that brought an instant relief to the tension of so much intimate emotion spilling down your faces. We laughed and we cried and we danced in that hopping up and down joy Matt’s D.J. friends played for us.

Now, how to do that for the rest of your lives?

As usual, I have a list:

How Two People Form One Vision From The Dreams Of Both:

1.  Take time deliberately.

You are embarking on a quest to discover what God is envisioning for two people who are now tasked with the daunting process of becoming one.

You’ve been pursuing each other with marriage in mind and now that you’re married you need to keep pursuing each other but with a different end in mind:

Now you’re pursuing each other’s vision for the two of you.

 2.  Ask questions relentlessly.

The hardest part about knowing another’s heart is our self-centered tendency to assume we know more than we do— and the only way I know to learn about another is to ask questions.

Then ask again. Then ask to explain. Again.

Ask in order to discover. Ask in such a way that the other can answer honestly, without having to over-state or justify or defend what may seem silly or impossible.

And remember:

Neither of you want to play the role of cold-water-reality-evaluator of each other’s dreams.

3.  Dream fearlessly.

A dream, for a follower of Jesus, is simply that seedling of desire hidden deep inside, waiting to be cultivated into fruition.

Be slow to squelch those seedlings. Instead, listen, give hope, offer courage and help.

And don’t be too quick to filter one another’s dreams through the lens of your own plans.

God has this delicious way of tantalizing us with just a bite of possibility… and then shaping it through the long wait.

 4.  Pray expectantly.

Dreams don’t just happen because we’ve talked about them.

Dreams become reality when the both of you, together, clasp hands and pray.

… when you trust and hope and work together faithfully.

… when your delight in God, together, becomes bigger than what you hope to do.

… when you open yourselves up to His shaping of your dreams and then get the thrill of partnering, together, with Him in the doing.

That is the way to live— as chasers after God, together!

5.  Listen closely.

Some of us have a hard time articulating our dreams and ideals for the life we hope to live. Strangely, it is often the talkative ones who can’t quite say what they mean. And then it is the quiet listeners who are given an uncanny gift for hearing what the other can’t quite say.

However it works for you, it is your honor to listen both to what the other is saying and what you perceive the other is meaning.

I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve heard a wife clearly state her husband’s mission while he’s looking blank about what to say.

She knows him better than he knows himself and she believes in him and his vision and so she uses her gift to put that vision into words for him.

I love that!

 6.  Write it down purposefully.

Even the prolific Apostle Paul didn’t see his vision clearly. You remember the story- he has a dream of a man gesturing him to come. Scholars call it The Macedonian Call. When he gets to the spot he was supposed to meet this man, he turns out to be a she— a woman by the name of Lydia.

In the male-dominated world Paul lived in, that had to mean disappointment. But he wrote out the whole story and because he did we get to see a pattern of the way God works.

By writing it down you will begin to see the pattern God uses to lead you throughout your lives together.

After 36 years of doing that, your dad and I are no longer surprised or caught unaware of God’s leading. We know the pattern.

7.  Wait patiently.

When we had a dream of starting a church we had to wait 7 years to see it happen. I had a dream of writing my story into a book over 20 years ago and I’m just now finishing it up.

Most dreams take a long time to percolate, to be refined and revised and prepared for and achieved.

That’s normal. It’s the way things work in the kingdom of God’s eternal way. He’s just not in the hurry the rest of us are.

Can I just tell you how much fun it is for me to sit on the sidelines, watching the two of you become one?

Simo, I dreamed of a woman like you for my boy. A woman who would let him be who he is while helping him to be so much more.

Matt, I dreamed of the day when you would launch out with a wife at your side to make your unique mark on the world— together.

From a heart bursting with joy for the adventure I know is ahead for you,

Mom

P.S. Stories anyone? Have you been helped in your vision? Either to articulate it more clearly or to actually go for it? Has your husband or wife taken up your dream and helped? I love this stuff.

(image by Hillary Kupish)

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Those who are wise will find a time and a way to do what is right.

Ecclesiastes 8v5

All week I have been delighting in the rally cry of women wanting what I want— to catch our breath and choose to “to slow down, to do life better… to intentionally take more time to engage.”

And all week I have been hearing about how you’re doing it, this challenge to “refuse to rush through our days leaving our people neglected and our souls depleted.”

And I’ve been taking notes, learning from women who, like me, find themselves rushing relentlessly through their days yet looking back and wondering what in the world we’ve done with those 16 hours of wakefulness.

Then this morning, as I walked along the gravel path that leads to my cabin in the woods behind Firwood Cottage, I had that uncanny sense that God was about to teach me things. Things about doing life well and wisely, about living a no rush life— on purpose.

And He did. 

Because, girls, God speaks. In fact, I have come to see that He delights in speaking into the dailiness of our lives. As if building nations and stopping epidemics and saving people is not enough… He actually waits to be invited to sit next to us as we plan our days.

He says just that in Psalm 37v 23:

“The steps of the godly are directed by the LORD.

He delights in every details of their lives.”

And when I do, when I invite Him in and  “commit everything I do to the LORD, trusting Him” (v 5), He actually gets involved in those details of my life and starts directing my day.

Can you believe that?!

The crazy thing is how often I don’t bother. I don’t bother Him and I don’t bother me long enough to scoot over while I’m making my lists and ask Him what I’m actually supposed to do. Today.

I remember when Matt was just a little boy of about four. John Mark would have been 16 and rarely home, Bekah about 14, and busy with her horse, Elizabeth 11, and living every spare moment at the barn with Bekah.

The first words out of Matt’s mouth every morning were, Where is everybody? Meaning, of course, John Mark, Bekah, Elizabeth, and Dad because those were the people that mattered most to Matt, the ones who held the happiness of his days. What he really wanted to know was not so much where they were but when they were coming home to play with him. Ah, the spoils of being the baby in a big family!

But then, every morning, Matt asked question # 2:

Mom, what’s the plan for today?

And I wonder if that isn’t how the Father wishes we would start our days.

Abba, what’s the plan for this day? 

I think that’s what Jesus did. I think Jesus woke up every morning and asked His father to plan His days, to direct His steps, to manage every moment of His life.

I suspect this may be why Jesus managed to pack everything that needed doing into a life that ended at the age of 33. And why He managed to say, “I have brought You glory on earth by finishing the work You gave me to do.” John 17v4

Everything You gave me to do…

What might that look like for us— women working hard to get it all done, stretched between the tension of tasks and relationships?

How do we do— everyday— those everythings the Father gives us to do?

How do we live a No Rush Life and still be able to utter those three words Jesus said on the Cross:

It is finished.

And about now you’re thinking I’ll have a list. Because I love lists. Because lists are cross-off-able. Because I live my days guided by my list.

Or you’re thinking I’ll offer you— free!— an app or a program or a sure-fire way to live efficiently and effortlessly for just $9.99 per month.

And I might have done that last week. Except that less than a week ago while I was writing the ideas for No Rush November, a woman I know wasn’t feeling well. Just tired and flu-ish and generally not great, she went to the doctor to see what he might prescribe to perk her up. Vitamins? Exercise? Hormones? Something she could take to feel better quickly so she could get on with the rush of real life with kids at home and a business to help run.

Only the doctor didn’t give her vitamins or tell her to move more. Instead, he  admitted her to the hospital with a diagnosis of acute leukemia.

While we do No Rush November, this mother, wife, business partner, home manager, list maker, will spend the next 30 days in the hospital being blasted with radiation.

Who plans for that?

No time to clean her house first. No chance to stock the freezer with meals for her family. Or get her hair cut or do that errand that didn’t get done, or let her clients know that she’ll be out for a while…

And I wonder. Does any of that matter to her now? The list sitting on her desk that won’t get done— does she care? Or is she so enmeshed in the fight to live to see her children grow up that she’s ceased to fret about all the stuff that keeps the rest of us rushing?

Her story is changing the way I look at today. Her fight to live is reminding me that I have no idea what next month will bring. And I’m not writing bucket lists, nor am I pulling out the bucket to wash my windows lest anyone notice how hard they are to see through… instead, I am doing what Jesus did and I invite you to do it too.

For every day of No Rush November, I will ask God to order my days.

I will pray what Moses prayed when he felt overwhelmed by a list too big to accomplish and a job too fraught with interruptions to get enough done:

“ So teach us to number our days

 that we might present to Thee

a heart of wisdom.”

Psalm 90v12

NASB

I will invite the Father to order every day and every week. Then I will ask Him, “what’s the plan?” as I pull out my calendar to look at next month… and next year.

And while I’m praying and planning, I will remember that The Plan is not all about me… but it is all about Him. And so I will pray along the lines of Jesus too:

“… not my will but Yours be done”. Luke 22v42

And that, am convinced, is the way to live an unrushed life.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. I’ve read your words on Facebook, laughed with you on the @hespeaksinthesilence Instagram, signed deeply at your pictures on #norushnovember. Thank you for those, I am learning from you. Please keep it coming!  And fill up the comments too—we need to learn with each other.

When I asked the Lord what I can do for this woman I barely know, I heard Him again: pray. 

Pray every day. Pray when you wake up at night. Pray one your way to whatever it is you’re rushing off to. Just pray. 

And so I am. I hope you will too, though I’m not sure she’s appreciate her name being blasted all over the internet. You don’t need to know her name to know that she needs us to beseech the Father for healing.

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How To Start Your Story Well

part two

Dear Matt and Simona,

Last week I gave you a peek into the mistakes your dad and I made in our first year of marriage. Nothing fatal, not enough to make us give up, but hurtful mistakes none-the-less; errors in our way of doing our new life together that took a while for us to figure out.

I gave you two pieces of advice, things we wish we’d understood and implemented early on in our marriage. And today I have two more.

1.  Say no to others so that you can say yes to each other.

This is going to be as difficult for both of you as it was for us. Anyone who loves people and values relationship will struggle with sorting through and prioritizing… which in real English means being realistic and disappointing people whose favor you care about.

There is this pervasive message heralded in magazines and conversations and just about everywhere in our culture— that we should be doing more. Work faster, network smarter, connect frequently, know everything… and of course, Just Do It!

What happens in real life with all that over-doing is a weakening of relationships. You only have so much time to go around and so you end up parceling it out in tiny, unsatisfying tidbits.

Here is a better way: sit down together and create a matrix for how you will decide to use your time. I’ll be writing more about this later, but for now just start talking about it— patiently. Look for time wasters. Figure out what “fills your bucket” and what drains you— or who drains you.

Guard yourselves from those time-wasters and soul-drainers. Let your friends know that you cannot say yes without first checking with each other— that’s what married people do—without apology. It’s not confining, it’s fun!

You are now we.

2.  Be patient. With yourselves and with each other.

Resist the temptation to expect perfection—from each other or from yourselves—in all areas of your life:

• Sexually: You’re learning. And there’s a lot to learn! Be patient with the process, enjoy the process! Keep reading, keep trying, keep talking, keep laughing.

(more on this later)

• Time management: It’s a whole other world now of taking each other into consideration as you plan your days. Be patient with each other’s mistakes.

• Conflict: Be persistent in talking to each other about why his not doing what he said he’d do… or how her not being available when you want her… is creating stress. Figure it out. Be nice. Try again.

• Home: This is a whole other area neither of you have had to factor in before. Dorms and roommates are hardly preparation for making a home. Be patient, go easy on each other. Avoid bossiness or criticism and instead work together with a mutual goal of creating a space that is a refuge and delight for both of you.

• Family: You are not the only ones making adjustments. Your families are trying to figure out how best to fold you into their changing dynamic. They may intrude on your space too much, or seem less than happy with you… give them the gift of patience as they struggle through to a satisfying new paradigm.

Talk to them! Be gentle, not rejecting. Let them know you’re both trying to figure it out, that you value them, that you need more time together to forge this new family into something satisfying and right.

(more on this later)

• Emotions: Change of any kind wrecks havoc with moods, feelings, reactions, energy. That’s normal, plan for it. What you want is to learn to recognize that the tension you may be experiencing is not the other’s fault. It is just part of life— the underside of change. And you want to allow each other the luxury of not being “up” and “on” all the time.

Her moodiness does not mean you have failed to make her happy. His crankiness isn’t your fault.

Learning to stay emotionally connected and yet mood-independent takes time… and patience. 

• Communication: This is a challenging one. There is the whole male/female language barrier, as well as completely different family approaches to solving conflict. Add two different personalities, throw in various but not always the same values, and you’ve got some learning to do. Be patient! This one is going to take a lifetime.

You’re going to blow it. You’ll need to apologize—a lot! That doesn’t mean your relationship is fatally flawed, just that it takes a tremendous amount of time to learn to talk and listen and ask questions and respond well. Give each other a lot of grace in this area. Give each other room to grow, room to grow up.

(lots more on this one later!)

A lot to think about, I know. But do the thinking now while life is fresh and your story just started. So much better than looking back with regret at your own blunderings!

I love you both!

From my heart,

Mom

P.S. For those who are reading: Have a good story about any of these areas? Or some practical advice? We’re listening!

And join us on Instagram @hespeaksinthesilence for our #norushnovember challenge as we take some time to slow down and enjoy the little moments this month! 

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Yesterday, I fell apart.

After a whirlwind week… at the end of a whirlwind month… following a whirlwind season, I just caved in.

I couldn’t make decisions, form complete sentences, or remember where I put my phone. Or my sunglasses. Or the boarding pass that would get me on the plane to take me home.

And I know that real life gets busy, that even Jesus worked to the point of exhaustion at times. He was harried by crowds who wanted too much, pushed by men trying to control the uncontrollable. He, too, got tired.

Yet I see a pattern in my own life that cannot be healthy—does not feel like His way:

First, I work way too hard, too fast, too much. My shoulders tense, the clock ticks. I work harder. I wake in the mornings to the press of hurry. I can do it. I will.

And if I’m honest, sometimes I crave the addictive rush of planning and crossing off and getting all that doing done.

But it’s not sustainable. Before I should, before my list is marked all through, I drop. Like a pricked balloon I leak. And then, like every woman I know, I look for someone to blame. I resent the unseen enemy who made me work too hard.

Poor me.

Then, zombie like, I rest by doing nothing. I withdraw into myself. I sleep too long, do too little, hide too deep. All the while feeling guilty and slovenly and shamed.

Even my rest seems too… much.

Yet as I read through the bios of Jesus, those stories recorded by always busy Matthew, and excessively dramatic Mark, precise Dr. Luke, and friend-of-God-John, I cannot help but see that He did life different than I do. There was a steadiness to his rhythm, a calm amidst the chaos.

He didn’t rush.

And so, I propose that we follow in His footsteps.

I propose that for the month of November we refuse to rush through our days leaving our people neglected, our space demolished, and our souls depleted.

I propose that we institute No Rush Novembers into the rhythm of our lives.

And maybe we is just me, but I dare to think that I am not alone in this need to slow down, to do life better… to intentionally take more time to engage.

And so, this morning I have been talking to the Father and asking how to be a woman who embraces life at a pace that allows me to live and love and work and accomplish… from a place of rush-less rest.

Instead of a list of what I will not do, I’ve found a strange urging to make room in my life for doing more… living better, steadier, more bravely.

Here is my list for me, things I am going to do this month on purpose:

I AM GOING TO… walk in the rain.

Living here in the Northwest, it rains a lot. As in nearly every day. Which means that to go outside at all is to get wet.

Most days a mist falls, a gentle leaking from porous skies. But some days the clouds battle unseen forces, lashing rain on the world, throwing branches to the ground in a fierce show of fury.

Those are the days I stay inside, safe, protected— and limited.

Not this month. During No Rush November I am going to walk in that rain and let it soak into my skin, and with it, this truth: that He is Living Water, Master of Storms, Soother of Seas. That to hide is to limit His use of me.

I AM GOING TO… build a fire in the fireplace.

Even though it’s messy. Even though I don’t need to. Even when I don’t have time to clean it up or pick up pieces of pine needles and bark that follow sodden footsteps from the wood pile to the inside.

Because I do have time. Not for perfection, but for rest, for warmth. And I am going to take time to draw near to the fire of a love that is all-consuming.

I AM GOING TO… make a big pot of chili and let it simmer all day.

Hot and red, spicy and rich, I am going to breathe in the scent of home. And then I am going to fill every bowl for friends and family, and a few more besides. To celebrate our not-aloneness. To relish those relationships that chase the chill of loneliness away. To open my arms and my kitchen to souls who hunger with the want of a shared bowl of goodness.

I AM GOING TO… clean out the garage.

You’re laughing now, but hear me out. That garage has been bothering me and shaming me and confusing me and making me feel like life is too busy to live well. Every time I open that door I see chaos. I feel the defeat of disorder.

My messy garage has become symbolic of a life hassled by hurry.

In no great rush I am going to finish sorting through the excess. I will keep only what I use, what I need, giving away the dishes I haven’t used in forever to someone who will.

I will lean into the whisper I heard months ago— to SIMPLIFY FOR THE NEXT SEASON. To actively choose to live with less so that I am useable, available, free.

For this one month I will recalibrate. I will re-think and re-order and remember. I will rest. I will create. I will make room in my life for surprises.

Will you join me?

From my heart,

Diane

Show us how you’re engaging in Now Rush November by taking a picture and posting on Instagram.

Use the hashtag #norushnovember so we can all join in the fun.

And check out our new Instagram account, @hespeaksinthesilence for more ideas on how to live at rest in the midst of real life.

I’d love to read your own ideas in the comments. Let’s keep this conversation going all month!

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How To Start Your Story Well

Part I: Coming Home

Dear Ones,

You’re back from your honeymoon, glowing with that newlywed smugness of two people who have shared what no one else ever will— that look that says you’ve a secret you’re bursting to tell. You have no idea how happy your happiness makes me.

These are good days. Rich with discovery, bright with hope for the future. You’ve found each other, loved each other, sorted through the questions, worked through barriers, and now you’re writing history.

What story will you tell? 

Thirty-six years ago, your dad and I were right where you are: just enough money to pay the bills if nothing went wrong, a pretty little place to call home, family and friends in abundance, and a job at a church that demanded time with a voraciousness that left us with no margin.

And we made mistakes. Lots of mistakes. Our first year was one long, heated hurt feeling on my part… and one long, heated frustration on your dad’s. Though to be fully transparent, in between the hurt feelings and frustrations we managed to cram in a whole lot of passionate, life-giving lovemaking.

And maybe that is why I am writing these letters to the two of you. Because I want more for you. I hope you’ll write a better first chapter to your story than we did. I hope you’ll look back on this year and remember the passion with a minimal amount of frustration and hurt feelings.

To my idealistic surprise, being a good person was not enough to have a good marriage. I tried so hard to be good, and so did your dad. But there was so much we didn’t know then, lessons we’ve learned the hard way. Lessons I want to pass on to you. Today I’ll give you just a few.

How To Start Your Story Well:

1.  Take time

For most of us, that first year of marriage is like learning to navigate a new world while blindfolded. We end up bumping into things. And people. And each other.  All those resultant bruises act as attention getting signs to get us to slow down, to proceed cautiously, to pay attention. Once you’ve learned where the sharp edges are, you’ll be able to breeze through most days without so much as a bump.

I wish we had purposed to take our first year slow. To do less. To expect less.

To just be… with each other… alone.

We should have spent more time paying close attention to each other, making room for the differences that rubbed wrong, allowing space to study each other, to know each other.

I think you will struggle with the same. You both love people, have a gazillion friends, have iPhones that won’t quit buzzing, and more plans that any two people could possibly accomplish.

And that’s good, great, healthy. But can you just put it all on hold for a bit? Expect less of yourselves? Expect less of each other? Just for this first year?

Because paying close attention to each other takes time at first. If you’re not careful you’ll misinterpret each other, take things too personally, get your feelings hurt and your nose pushed out of joint. Or you’ll stumble blindly forward, clueless to the damage your heedlessness is inflicting on the one you love more than life itself.

To that end, I have a second piece of advice…

2.  Check in

When we were first married, many of our misunderstandings happened as a result of un-communiction.

We were up late most nights, a requirement of a pastor at a megachurch in the 70’s. Being busy was proof of value— or so we believed. We’d fall into bed too tired to talk, then be up and out the door for work with barely a chance to think, let alone converse.

We saved most of our communication for our one day off together… and ended up arguing our way through that day, knowing we’d have no time to resolve it during the week, knowing that if we didn’t get the hurt cleaned up now, it would only get worse.

Not exactly a tasty recipe for a healthy relationship.

Out of that failure, we began to see the need for a daily time of connection. Not a long, how are you feeling about life kind of conversation, but just a few moments to go over schedules, know how to pray for each other, look each other in the eye, value each other’s time, and accommodate each other’s reality.

We take each other’s temperatures: Is he stressed about that meeting? Feeling pressured by her to-do list? Should I back off my expectations?

In those few minutes we keep Paul’s advice to his friends in Ephesus in mind:

“I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord,

entreat you to walk in a manner

worthy of the calling with which you have been called,

with all humility and gentleness, with patience,

showing forbearance to one another in love,

being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.”

Ephesians 4:1-3 NASB

I have more to say on this matter of beginning your story well but I think maybe that’s enough to chew on for now.

I hope you will spend some time together this week talking about practical ways to slow down your schedule in order to take the time to know each other, and carve out a time to connect every day so that you’ll work together in this new reality.  It won’t happen by accident. You’ll have to be intentional about starting your story slower and with a greater understanding of each other. But, oh it’s worth it!

I’ll be back next week with part 2 of How To Start Your Story Well.

From my heart,

Mom

P.S. For those who are reading:

Have you figured out how to do this? What rhythm is working for you? Your ideas will help strengthen the relationships of others who are trying to get it right.

(source)

The past month has been, for me, packed full of goodness: family, laughter, beauty, relationship, memories, joy. Firwood cottage opened her arms to embrace people I love: her cozy guest room in constant use, the kitchen a gathering place for ongoing conversation.

Yet one morning, right in the midst of wedding week fun, I made my way out to my tiny refuge in the backyard, that “shed” I claim as my own, and wondered why I hadn’t heard so much as a whisper from God in all the raucous clamor of celebration.

Why are You silent, Lord? Why can’t I hear?

And slowly, imperceptibly at first, I heard hints. I sensed the Spirit stirring me to lean in, to listen, to pay attention.

Opening my bible, I curled up in my big cushy chair, pen in hand, journal in my lap. I settled in to wait.

What would He say? Something encouraging and lovely? Quotable and profound?

No. Just this:

Though the LORD is great,

He cares for the humble,

but He keeps His distance from the proud.

He keeps His distance from the proud. Me? Are You talking about me, Lord?

And I knew before I asked that yes, my pride had pushed Him away. The distance I had suddenly sensed that morning had been growing for days, for weeks. Unrecognized, unrepented pride had worked its weasely way into my soul and now I felt the loneliness of that distance I had created.

My pride propels me into loneliness, pushing God aside, pushing my self forward until all I am is me.

And I hear Him speak, this time so fast I can hardly keep up while I write it down. He wants me back, tucked in close, reveling in the intimacy of connection, enjoying this time of my life with Him.

He knows I hadn’t noticed the emptiness of that place only He can fill. But I notice now and He fills me fast, He fills me full, I am bursting with the richness, all those aching places soothed.

But I don’t want to go there again. Because I didn’t mean to, didn’t even know I was wandering in that direction. Somehow I drove off on the wrong road and ended up with only a hint of God in my rearview mirror. What did I miss?

As I ask Him, a list forms in my head and my pen scrambles on the page to get it down. Too much for one post, I’ll give the first four here:

Subtle Signs When Pride Is Distancing Me From God:

1.    Self-sufficiency

When instead of praying about everything, I blunder through my days “accomplishing what concerns me”. I do it because it needs doing. My list leads.

I can do this. I can work harder and longer and better. I can get it all done!

That is pride disguised in the rigid uniform of work.

2.    Worth

When my achievements define my value; when I am what I do or I am what I have done or I am what people think I am.

When my value is caught up in my ability to do, that is pride.

3.   Insecurity

This is the reverse: When my failure defines me and I think I am merely the sum total of everything wrong with me. That is pride. It is making too much of my efforts, measly though they are, and making too little of God in me.

4.    Entitlement

When life goes bad and I get mad because I think I deserve better.

No, it is not okay to get angry with God! Who do I think I am? When I think I deserve more, deserve to be shielded from ugliness, deserve to be blessed just because I’ve been good, that is pride.

My list keeps growing, a living breathing knowing that this distance is my own doing. But there is joy in this knowing- because He welcomes me back, delights in my turning, soothes the rawness of my repentance. He doesn’t want to stand away from me. My Redeemer died to bring me close… to bridge that yawning fissure my pride opened between me and the One who made me for Himself.

I’ll be back with more to chew on next week.

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. Do you have a list of your own? Have you seen the subtle signs that keep you distant from God and wondering why? Let us learn from your stories, its so much better than failing in our own.

(Image by Hillary Kupish)

UNASHAMED

And the man and his wife

were both naked and

not

ashamed. 

Genesis 2:25

niv

Dear Daughter,

One of my favorite things to watch is a woman freshly home from her honeymoon. A transformation takes place in that week of intimacy, a metamorphosis. She stands before her husband in all the glory of her wedding finery, sees her beauty reflected in his face, gives herself with purest abandon to his love, and emerges someone else entirely.

Gorgeous.

There is a swagger to her step, a sort of flirtatious look of confidence, a knowing. As if she’s got a secret just bursting to be divuldged.

She belongs. She is known. She is cherished. She is loved.

Simo, hang on to that. Because that is truth— he loves you, he cherishes you, he is captured, intrigued, irresistibly drawn to your beauty.

But there is an enemy who would convince you otherwise. A sneaky serpent who uses subtle strategies to steal the freedom of a well-loved woman. One who knows that a woman who dances in the reflection of her husband’s love is a dire threat to an enemy hell-bent on destroying beauty.

It started long ago. On that fateful day when Eve shared the forbidden fruit with Adam, shame was born. A new emotion, powerful enough to send her into hiding.

…then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves. Genesis 3:7

… and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid… Genesis 3:10

And every woman since has felt those cords of shame tighten around her freedom. Call it inhibition. Call it embarrassment. Disinterest, angst, or ambivalence.

We blame the beauty industry— an easy scapegoat with it's distorted images of haughty, airbrushed, photo-shopped fakery.

Or we blame men— we’re sure they’ve elevated a certain standard of gorgeousness that is unobtainable by the average woman, or at least by ourselves.

We look in the mirror and see everything wrong:

Not thin enough, not curved enough, not firm enough, not soft enough…

Too big, too small, too tall, too curly, too straight, too much, too little…

And those cords of shame wrap tentacles so tight we can scarcely breathe, let alone glory in our own bodies or relish the response of a husband who loves us.

And in our shame, we hide. 

But Simo, it’s all a trick. A lie. A strategy to destroy what God said was good.

Give into this lie and you’ll live a life of less-than. You’ll struggle and wonder why, you and Matt will misunderstand each other. You’ll hurt. You’ll pull away, so will he. You’ll miss out on the wonder of being that woman who knows she is pursued, sought, cherished.

Beautiful.

And so, since I love lists, here is one for you, dear one. A way to combat the lies that would bind your beauty with cords of shame.

How To Be The Beauty You Were Created To Be:

1.  Believe that God crafted you beautifully.

He used His artistry to weave you together in your mother’s womb in just the way He wanted. Dare you honestly say you think He messed up? That He made one woman more lovely than another? That somehow He wasn’t quite on the job when He made you?

2.  Acknowledge that beauty is not perfection. 

Authentic art includes contrast and proportion, texture and shading. An artist chooses from a wide variety of medium to tell a uniquely compelling story. Copy-cats are considered fakes in the world of valuable treasures.

When women determine to fit themselves into a mold of someone else’s making they only hurt themselves.

3.  See your beauty through your husband’s eyes.

When you uncover yourself to him and he responds with enthusiastic arousal, he is adding an exclamation mark to your beauty.

Drink it in. Let the truth of his response sink deep. He sees your beauty.

Choose to neither hide nor deny what you see reflected in his eyes.

Allow yourself the luxury of responding to his response.

4.  Never compare your beauty to another’s.

It doesn’t work that way, anymore than comparing a Rothko to a Rembrandt. Relish your uniqueness, flaunt it, be who you are. Like who you are.

5.  Give your beauty freely to your husband. 

He needs to see you, to feel your skin, to run his hands over your softness. To hide from him is to rob him of the one of the greatest joys of marriage. He loves what he sees, let him feast his eyes on your loveliness.

And not just now, when you’re young and lithe and tan and wedding-day slim. He needs to see you when you’re 9 months pregnant, and 4 months post-partum, when you’re wrinkling and aging, when you’re surely no candidate for a beauty contest.

Because He sees what you cannot— that you are beautiful by being who you are.

6.  Guard your beauty. 

Like a lovely garden of the finest flowers, a woman’s beauty must be cultivated and maintained. Neglected, we go to seed. Nourished, pampered, smoothed, and cared for, we flourish.

My dear daughter, to be naked and not ashamed in the presence of your husband is to enjoy a place in which freedom and beauty reign. Do all you can to stay in that holy place, to guard your heart against the lies that slip in unnoticed.

From my heart,

Mom

P.S. For those who are reading:

Men, are you getting a glimpse into the soul of a woman with these insights? Pay attention, the woman you love is struggling to see her own beauty.

Women, is this new to you? Have you bought into the lies? Can you share your stories and strategies with us? 

(source)

Reaching back into my journal from my summer of silence…  

WORK or PLAY? 

Yesterday I cleaned the garage.  It was a hot, dusty, spider-filled day.

And, as it was my long procrastinated attempt at sorting through my too-much stuff again, I was fairly overwhelmed with decision-making.  I’ve struggled and failed to find a matrix that works for sorting through 36 years worth of accumulation. Throw in a few childhood memories and I’m sunk.

By the time I came inside to de-cobweb my hair and wash off the sweat of a hard summer day’s work, my little cottage was filled with all manner of pretty things stacked in haphazard disarray. My grandmother’s china overflowed a table in the hallway, vintage creamware cluttered the kitchen counter, boxes and boxes of books awaited my attention.

Isn’t that just the way of life? One mess leads to another until cleaning up messes overrides the best of plans… and I think that maxim applies to relationships as much as to garage cleaning…

So when I woke up early this morning with a rare day alone on the agenda I was torn. Should I spend the day studying for that Pastor’s Conference I am speaking at in Uganda? Or… should I play house with all my pretty things and spend my day creating beauty?

I did neither.

Instead I picked up a catalogue and feasted guiltily on pictures of cozy rooms and elegant arrangements. Between sips of steaming tea, I glanced at my Bible and tried to ignore that insistent sense that I really ought to first listen to the One I’ve given my life to.

I wanted to decorate all day… but I was certain that He would tell me to get to work. And so I stalled and sipped tea and wondered where to put what, feeling like a naughty girl ignoring her chore list as if I was ten years old again. Memories of sneaking a few pages of my Nancy Drew mystery instead of dusting my room came flooding back.

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I tossed the magazine aside and picked up my Bible. How can I call Jesus my Lord and ignore Him as I ready for my day?  With a sigh I opened to where I’d left off the day before, ready to listen yet secretly wishing for the freedom to do what I wanted.

What I read… and heard, made me fall in love with my Father all over again. Because He’s not who I seem to consistently think He is: He’s not a taskmaster cracking the whip or a teacher clucking His tongue at my flakiness. He is not waiting for me to open my Bible so He can show me my chore list.

Yes, I listen for instruction. Of course He often corrects me. And sometimes He calls me to deny what I want to do in order to accomplish what I am called to complete. But that’s not the whole picture, not even close.

Here is where my morning reading took me:

“Do not let your hearts be troubled.

You believe in God; believe also in me.

My Father’s house has many rooms:

if that were not so would I have told you

I am going there to prepare a place for you?

And if I go and prepare a place for you,

I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”

John 14:1-3

I could fairly feel the brush of His Spirit against my soul as I breathed in His truth— He’s not mad at me for wanting to decorate my little cottage on Firwood Road!  In fact, He is spending His holy hours doing the same— preparing a place for me, a place where we can relish intimacy, a place of rest, a place of untangling troubled hearts caught up in self-imposed pressures.

His love wafted over my stringent should’s like the fragrant candle burning on my bedside table. I breathed deep— and smiled.

And so, this morning, before I get up and putter about arranging my pretty things, I want to remind you what I am just now remembering for myself. Because some of us get it wrong sometimes… and we lose peace… we miss His joy and stagger under a load He hasn’t meant for us to carry.  And then we work too hard and feel guilty because we’re crabby and short-tempered and generally hard to live with. (yep, that is me confessing who I’ve been this last week!)

This, then is truth:

Jesus is… a Redeemer lovingly restoring a broken world back to Himself.

He is… a Creator inviting you to play along with Him.

He is… a Maker of Beauty.

From a heart delighting in who He is,

Diane

P.S. Are you like me? Do you impose rigid rules on yourself that actually aren’t from the Father? Can you name a few to help us recognize them in ourselves?

 (image by Hillary)

Naked

And the man and his wife were both

Naked

and unashamed.

Genesis 2:25

Dear Son,

The most invaluable, unforgettable, intimate gift a woman can give a man is her body. To unveil herself, to strip away her coverings, to allow the man she loves to see her as she is— this is an act of intimate trust.

When Adam first saw Eve standing naked before him, he broke out in a song of endearing enthusiasm:

This…

is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh!

she shall be called woman

for she was taken out of man.

Genesis 2:23

niv

He was enthralled with this one who was so like him… and so intriguingly different. He loved her, he wanted her, he responded to her beauty.

When your wife reveals herself to you… for the first time, for the second, and for the thousandth time, she will be asking a question. Always. No, she won’t write it down. She won’t ask it out loud. She might not even realize what she’s asking. But somewhere deep inside, her soul is crying out,

Am I beautiful?

And you, my dear son, have the power to answer that question in a way that will be forever inked on the skin of her soul.

Answer well… and you will be propelled into a lifetime of unparalleled passion. Of beauty. Of love.

Hesitate…or evaluate… or send any sort of signal of not enough-ness… and you will miss out on the greatest treasure a woman has to give— herself.

And so, my son, I have a list. This is my list for men who want to experience the thrill of a wife who gives herself to him with abandon, with such confidence in her own appeal that she bathes her husband in her beauty.

How To Make A Woman Beautiful:

1.  Tell her she’s beautiful.

Tell her every day. Every. Single. Day. When she’s sweaty from working out, when she’s sleepy and unadorned, when she’s got a pimple on her nose, and when she’s seducing you in the glow of candlelight. Tell her that you see her beauty, get specific, be prolific.

2.  Show her she’s beautiful.

Let your face express your awe. Don’t be covert- that was fine for dating days but now that she’s fully yours she needs you to be fully aware. Look at her. Follow her with your eyes. Let her catch you looking. She needs to know that her beauty excites you.

3.  Remember she’s beautiful.

In the everyday-ness of life, it is easy to forget about beauty. There is work to be done, bills to pay, conflicts to work through. But you have the power to remind yourself that your wife is a treasured gift of beauty from God. Be purposeful about remembering.

4.  Remind her she’s beautiful.

Do not allow your wife to swallow the lie that she is not beautiful. Ever. Use all your man-like warrior skills to combat Satan’s deceptive ploy to steal your wife’s beauty. She may never model for a glossy magazine but she is hand-crafted by God to mirror His beauty in a way that only she can. Your job is to show her. To tell her. To remind her. To insist that she see her own beauty the way you do.

5.  Let her stay beautiful.

Beauty in the mirror costs bucks in the wallet. It pains me to hear men complain about the cost of make-up and hair cuts and all those shoes that crowd a woman’s closet… and then to secretly wish their wife looked better. All that effort a woman makes into being as attractive as possible is for you—really!

Do not begrudge her the joy of adorning herself with girly beauty. Budget for it. Sacrifice for it. She will repay you with the swaggering confidence of a feel-good-about-herself woman.

6.  Thank her for being beautiful.

No woman stays beautiful without effort. It takes time, discipline, self-denial, money, creativity, and determination. When your wife takes the time to clean herself up, to spray on some scented loveliness, to coax her feet into high heels and in any way bring her beauty to your attention, let her know you love it. Leave off with that male bluster that makes it sound like you don’t care— because you do care about her beauty and so does she.

7.  Tell others she’s beautiful.

There is something about being praised in public that means more to a woman than most men realize. Loosen those barriers that hold you back from saying it— in front of her friends and yours, in the presence of men and women, do the unorthodox— tell the world that you find your wife incredibly, classically, intrinsically beautiful.

8.  Thank God for her beauty.

The surest way to keep on seeing her beauty even when wrinkles line her face, babies distort her body, and age greys her hair, is to thank God every day that He entrusted you with this beauty. She is a gift. Her beauty is a gift. Make it your habit to thank God for her, to bless Him for the blessing her beauty brings into your life.

When I walked into the hospital room of my friend, Isabel Moore, who lay dying at the age of 92, I was struck by her stunning beauty.  Her normally coifed hair was brushed back from her face, no make-up covered her wrinkled skin, her stylish clothes had been exchanged for a hospital gown. Yet she glowed.

As her friends and family took their turns to whisper good-bye, she took each person by the hand and pulled them close…  spilling one last dose of beauty onto each of us.

I walked out of her room knowing I had experienced beauty in its truest form. I saw a woman whose beauty had, over months and years and decades, been nurtured and magnified, loved and celebrated. With the insistence of her husband, Tom, over a span of 69 years, Isabel’s beauty had made it’s way from her skin, down deep into her soul. She knew her own beauty intimately— and that knowing compelled her to give it away.

Make that your goal, Matt. To find and notice and cultivate Simona’s God-created beauty. When she’s 22, when she’s 52, when she’s 92.

And then watch as she spills that beauty back onto every one who touches her life, and especially on you.

From my heart,

Mom

P.S. For those who are reading:

Girls, can you chime in? Has your husband/ friend/ boyfriend/ fiancé helped you to see your unique beauty? How?

Men, do you need help with this? I know it’s not easy, but I also know that a man’s courage can be daunting when he’s on the warpath to protect someone he loves. I applaud you for trying t

(source)

As I write these words I am nestled in a soul-refreshing nook carved deep in a canyon in the hills above the Pacific Ocean. There is a camp here, built in the 1960’s, restored recently, used by those who need to get away and think.

I am with a small group- less than 100 of us— talking about global church planting. Phil and I are the older, more experienced, supposedly wiser couple, though Chris and Meryl Wienend of Genesis Collective are the real brains behind all that’s going on here this week.

Last night we answered questions and I was surprised by how few wanted strategy and how many wanted to know about life and love and ministry and how to manage all the important pieces well. We feel honored and humbled by their queries, knowing full well how often we have stumbled and failed and managed nothing well.

I look into their faces and see courage.

Trust.

A choice to leave the comfortable place and dare— to dream and do.

I see greatness.

And I know that these choice men and women will struggle. Planting a church is by far the most difficult, challenging, stretching, exhausting endeavor we have ever undertaken.

I wouldn’t want to do it again.

Yet…

I am so glad we did.

I don’t tell them that. Instead I pray and give courage where I can.

I scurry back to my room to write their names down because, gosh, they will need me and anyone else they can gather as stand-in-the-gap prayers.

I want to hold them close and remind them that it is worth it- that He is worth it.

And I want to hand them each a great big stash of cash so they won’t have the worries inherent in any act of heroic faith. I want to take all the girls shopping because doesn’t a new outfit just make everything easier? 

Instead I know that they have chosen to do without. To leave comfort to embrace a vision. They have heard God beckoning them to come, to follow, to trust.

I am so proud of them I could burst.

And so are you.

You are listening, seeing, hearing God in the moments of your days. You look for Him. You find Him, sometimes in surprising places. And when you point Him out to others, to me, to us here on this site, we see Him too.

That’s why we are starting an Instagram called @hespeaksinthesilence. And that’s why we are inviting you to send us your own glimpses of God in the moments of your every days.

So that we can see and hear together.

In the innocence of your toddler’s joy, in the comfort of your friend’s embrace, in the beauty of something God has created and called to your attention— in any and every place you see and hear and delight in this One who we get to call our Father.

Want to know a strange thing about me? I am deaf woman who hears God better than she sees Him. So when people take pictures or create beauty of their own, I feel like a blind woman seeing for the first time…and I love that.

So, if you’re a lover of Instagram like I am, I invite you to join us. Please. Show us what you see in your own moments by tagging your pictures #hespeaksinthesilence. Tell me what you are hearing.

Then let’s see and hear together and call out our absolute delight in a God who speaks. 

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. Here’s a great spot to tell us what you’re hearing and seeing. And how you hear best. One thing I love about listening to God is the discovery that He adopts our own dialect to make sure we get what He is saying.

P.S.S. I’m keeping @dianewcomer too just for fun and dedicating @hespeaksinthesilence to listening and seeing God in the moments of every day.

(image by Hillary Kupish)

INTENT: goal, purpose, design, plan, aim

Dear Matt and Simona,

You’re married!

After months of planning and preparations, endless lists and endless work, the wedding is over. The two of you stood before friends and family, before God Himself, and said, “I Do.”

The wonder of your wedding day is still sending ripples of delight in my mind, memories I will cherish for a long, long while.

Simona, your elegance cast a magical beauty over the entire day. Matt, your laughter lit the night with joy. Could your grin have gotten any bigger?

We waved you off with our blessing and our prayers. And then your dad and I turned to each other, grasped hands, and prayed. We asked God to fill your night with the joy of discovery. To fill your hearts with confidence. To fill your minds with pictures of beauty. To fill your honeymoon with memories you will both relish forever.

And we prayed that you would both remember what we’ve told you:

That the purpose of your honeymoon is to know and be known. It is the beginning of a lifetime quest for two people to so understand each other that they begin to think as one. To meld bodies and lives and hopes and dreams into an unbreakable bond of wholeness.

To become one.

And to that end, it is a set apart time.  This is not simply a vacation. Not just an expensive adventure.  If you get a little sightseeing in on the side, great! But you’ll have lots of vacations and only one honeymoon.

Your honeymoon is a time for the unveiling of yourselves to each other. For undressing, and uncovering.  It is a long anticipated choosing to be “naked and unashamed”.  To be before each other just as you are, without masks or covering.

You have both waited for this— have guarded yourselves and each other in anticipation of a lifetime of unrestricted passion. You love each other. You want each other. You have waited for intimacy on the promise that this gift is best unwrapped under the covenant of forever.

Forever begins now.

But a great honeymoon doesn’t happen by accident. Like most things of high value, you will have to be intentional about this time. You will not want to squander the potential of this beginning.  And so I have put together a short list of ways to purposely create an environment in which you will both thrive. A list of guidelines in order to intentionally write your history well.

Six Guidelines For A Great Honeymoon:

1.  Guard these days

That may mean you’ll need to turn off your phones. Do not return texts. Don’t like anybody’s pictures or messages or requests. Instead, turn all your attention to each other. Too soon you’ll be stressed by the tensions of all the other demands on your time. Now is the time just for one another.

2.  Give yourself completely

It takes a tremendous amount of trust to unveil your real selves to another person. To not pretend. But those who do will have the reward of a love that is real.

Two cannot become one if there is hiddenness.

This is the time to tell each other what hurts deeply, what gives you courage, why you fell in love and what you hope the years ahead will hold.

And it is a time to be all about the other. To coax and allure each other into a safe place.

3.  Laugh a lot

Instead of taking yourselves too seriously, allow room for hilarity. Sex is fun! Sure, the timing can be complicated, but learning is the best part. Be gentle with each other, be friendly and affectionate, don’t try too hard to imitate the movies- sex just isn’t always so hot and instant, especially at the beginning. Have a blast learning to get it right.

Then bask in the rush of emotions that will have your redefining the word happiness.

4.  Affirm each other frequently

You both need to hear the unedited pleasure of each other. Don’t hold back, say it, show it, tell each other what makes you feel like you’re coming out of your skin with the joy of it. And then say it again.

Please, please, please do not allow even one discouraging word to shadow your intimacy. If you have a mean moment, apologize immediately.

This is a sacred time, honor that.

4.  Spend time alone with God each day

As absorbed as you are with each other, you’ll be in danger of imposing too much need on each other unless you each spend time alone with the One who is your “life that is truly life.” Honor each other’s individual-ness by giving each other space to be alone with God. Then come together and share what He’s telling you. This is the way to greatest intimacy.

And one last word of advice:

6.  Have Fun!

Flirt, rest, jest, tease, talk, sleep, eat, indulge, play! Be lazy. Relish beauty. Find gifts for each other. Write notes. Tell stories. Crack jokes. Swim in the ocean, splash in puddles. Saturate all your senses with the pure joy life.

My dear son and daughter, take these days as the gift that they are. You are free, you are healthy, you have plenty, you are loved.

With much love and hope for the two of you,

Mom

P.S. For those who are reading: Do you have anything to add? Or any questions to ask?

Let’s start a conversation for a few weeks on what you hope, what you wish, what you’d do different in order to intentionally write the story of your first days as husband and wife.

(source)

Wedding Week has come and gone.

All that remains of months of work are the pictures of a day so filled with beauty, so packed with goodness, so overflowing with love that a sort of mystical halo will forever surround the memories.

I thought I’d share with you some of my favorites:

(photos by my friend Jodi Stilp)

Simona’s mom, Natalia. She radiated joy, peace, serenity, knowing, wisdom, gentleness. She is the softest strong woman I know. A woman who stays in the background serving. A woman who loves with the fierceness of one who has known pain and chosen to embrace grace rather allowing herself to be distorted by bitterness.

(photos by my friend Jodi Stilp)

Scarlet’s march down the aisle way ahead of the other flower girls who were dutifully following instructions to sprinkle rose petals along the way. That look of sheer determination, along with her cousin, Sunday’s look of chagrin (she was supposed to be Scarlet’s keeper, but who can “keep” a girl with that kind of moxy?) started me laughing and set the tone for the entire wedding.

(photos by my friend Jodi Stilp)

John Mark’s little brother jokes. All the formal, Romanian loveliness of the day combined with the hilarity of my preacher-son’s memories of his little brother’s antics had our family laughing out loud and elbowing each other right up to the vows.

(photos by my friend Jodi Stilp)

Matthew’s tears. Gosh…

(photos by my friend Jodi Stilp)

Simona’s vows, which included: “You are my Hans Solo…” slipped in between profound words of commitment and honor. I don’t think she could have said anything that would have cemented Matt’s love for her more. Wise woman, my girl!

(photos by my friend Jodi Stilp)

My dad. Thirty-six years ago he walked me down the aisle, this time I escorted him. Slow, careful, loving the moment and hanging on to some of these last times together. How I wish every girl had a dad like mine.

The dancing. Which was really more of a bunch of grown up children bouncing, laughing, shouting, reveling in shared joy. So wholesome and good. Fun.

(photos by my friend Jodi Stilp)

Rebekah and Steve, John Mark and Tammy, Jude, Moses, Sunday, Brook and Elizabeth, Scarlet, Duke, Phil, me and Simona's whole family… surrounding Matt and Simona with our love and prayer and teasing and support and advice and commitment to be a family. This is the kind of community we are made for, the kind we are called to bring to the church and to the world. Imperfect but faithful.

And I feel a little bit of what God felt all those millennium ago… when He rested… and saw that it was good.

Not perfect, but good. Very good.

From a heart at rest,

Diane

(image by hillary kupish)

Our house is a very, very, very fine house

With two cats in the yard,

Life used to be so hard,

Now everything is easy cause of you…

I’ll light the fire,

You place the flowers in the vase that you bought today.[1]

(still my favorite love song…)

 Dear Matt and Simona,

Saturday was your wedding day. A beautiful, romantic day you have both dreamed of for many months. Today the two of you are flying across oceans and mountains, glaciers and jungles… to a place just for the two of you. Alone.

And I sit here in my tiny cottage in the woods trying to condense all that I want to say into these few words on a screen. I type and I delete. I walk around the block and think of too many things I want to say. I try again.

And there is only this:

A love that lasts a lifetime doesn’t happen by accident.

It is not a romantic ending to a good story. It is not in the stars, not because you found the One. The kind of love you hope for isn’t because of good luck or good personalities or good timing. It does not wear out or go away. No one falls out of this kind of love.

A love that lasts a lifetime is a love that is lived on purpose.

It is a love that is gone after. A love that is done daily. A love that is thought about, sacrificed for, worked towards.

Even on bad days. Especially on bad days.

Yes, love is a gift. But perhaps more, real love, the kind of love that all of us long for, is a skill. A vocation. A calling.

And that is why I am writing these letters. Because I dare to believe that this is a kind of love that is possible. I believe that you two and anyone else can have a love that lasts for a lifetime. I believe that any of us— all of us— can become excellent lovers.

And more, I believe we are called to do this kind of love.

Everyday.

For the rest of forever.

That is what these letters will be about. The doing of real love. The craft, the skill, the expertise it takes to navigate real life and cultivate true love. I want to pass on what I am learning about how to “walk in the way of love” (Ephesians 5:2) so that when you are both old… with all the inherent greying and sagging and wrinkling and slowing that old age brings… you will still be in love.

Because I believe it’s possible, this whole-life love. Maybe not normal, but possible. And I don’t believe it has much to do with luck, though no doubt about it, some people have an easier time at it than others. And though I may have started off life as a dreamer, a romantic, a head-in-the-clouds innocent… I now have three plus decades of church ministry under my belt and all the inherent sad, tragic, disgusting, horrifying real-life-marriage stories to off-set my fairy tale take on life.

And I believe more than ever in the theory of redemption:  that our God is a fixer of broken things. That your mess-ups and mistakes do not define you.

Nor is all that messiness a predilection for future failure. I read it in God’s Word and I see it in real life.

I have seen people tuck their broken, repentant, honest selves right into Jesus. I have seen Him exchange their sorry state with His glory, with His beauty. I have seen—close up—two people collide and fall on their faces and call out to God. I have seen the beauty He brings out of the ashes of fire-ravaged lives. How He melds two people into one.

And I am one of those: broken, selfish, spoiled, self-indulgent, and… redeemed. And so is your dad. You know that.

God doesn’t automatically make repentant, dependent people good, instead He fills them with God. With Himself. And then He slowly begins that painstaking process of smoothing off the ugliness. Something like the way He used glaciers to craft great swaths of smooth tundra, so slowly the movement is almost imperceptible.

The key, I have come to see, is patience. Patience with each other first, but also patience with yourself. We learn to love well. God Himself trains us in the way of love. Scripture is filled with wisdom to get us started and then to stretch us further until His way becomes, if not natural, at least a whole lot easier.

So, before the letters even officially begin, let me leave you with just a couple of things to tuck away.

1. A love that lasts a lifetime is possible.
2. A love that lasts a lifetime is not natural or easy or automatic.
3. A love that lasts a lifetime requires the humility of daily brokenness before God.
4. A love that lasts a lifetime involves skills that can be learned.
5. A love that lasts a lifetime takes a lifetime.

And this...

A love that lasts a lifetime is worth it.

From my heart,

Mom

P.S. While I am writing these letters to my son and new daughter, they have agreed to let you read along. What I am hoping, is that you will bring your stories and wisdom and questions and comments with you. I get tired of talking all by myself. So please, let the conversation begin.

---

[1] Published and recorded in 1970, by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. I’ve been whistling this one under my breathe for longer than you’ve been alive!

(source)

 Be careful! Never forget what you have seen the LORD do for you. Do not let these things escape from your mind as long as you live! And be sure to pass them on to your children and grandchildren.

Deuteronomy 4:9

NLT

Yesterday I got a note from a young mother who reads my words in the early morning hours as she is nursing her baby. She had carved out time to write me in one of those rare moments when her two-year-old was napping and her six-month-old was playing contentedly.

And I felt as if I’d been given a treasured gift. As if this woman somehow knew I needed something only she could give… and she weighed the repercussions, thought about what it would cost her… and gave away her time wrapped in loving words, courage giving words.

I found myself thinking about her early this morning, praying that God would give back to her one hundred times what she gave to me. Because she’s one of my girls now, though we have never met, and I see her as I write.

If you give, you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full measure,

Pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, and running over.

Whatever measure you use in giving— large or small— it will be used to measure what is given back to you.

Luke 6:38

NLT

She just let me know that my life is making a difference. That my words have helped. That her life is better now because of me. That my stories, all of them about “what I have seen the LORD do…” have helped her to notice the same.

I see her in my mind… toys strewn around the room, dishes piled in the sink, a dishwasher needing emptying. I see the diapers bought in bulk and I wonder how many hours of her week are spent in front of the changing table, wiping bottoms, soothing fussy babies, trying to get the toddler to hold still.

And I wonder if she could have possibly known this time was coming.  When she was studying for an exam at a university far away, dreaming great dreams, trying on her wedding dress amidst giggling friends. She couldn’t see these days.

And then I see her later.

Still beautiful, but with that kind of worn-in beauty now.

You know what I mean: crinkles along her eyes, but her cheeks are smooth, her smile welcoming. She’s a woman comfortable in her never-perfect skin.

The kind who looks elegant because she wants to— first thing in the morning while she’s sharing a cup of coffee with her husband, and then later as she’s doing something— something significant, something important that requires the skills of a capable woman who has lived well and wisely.

And I wish she could see what I see.

I wish she could know that someday she’ll have hours and hours to write notes and give courage. That younger women will need her stories then, that she will be the one with “more life-giving encouraging words” from “lessons learned” as she so beautifully wrote.

I wish I could hold her when the storms come, when the doubts and worries and grief keep her awake at night. I wish I could point her to the words God has used to feed me full in the early morning hours when it’s just Him and I.

I wish I could bring her with me this week as I prepare to entrust my baby boy— the one grown tall and strong now— into the capable hands of a woman who will commit the rest of her life to him.

I wish she could see me as I pick up my once-babies at the airport, as we hug long and close, as we cry and laugh and empty our words all over each other.

I wish she could see how all those hours were worth it.

That out of the loneliness comes an intimacy that cannot be bought or achieved or had in any other way than what she’s doing now. That the babies whose bottoms I wiped are now my best friends, my stalwart loyalists.

I wish she could see that my baby boys, those toddlers who didn’t nap when I wanted them to, who worried me every day for too many years— how they grew up and they married the best of women. I wish she could see how those girls are now my girls. Women who love me too, just because of all those lonely hours when all I did was work and nurse and rock and take care of the boys who would become their men.

I wish she could see the future while she’s in her present because the future turns the present into the best days of her life.

Not the easiest— never that— but the most valuable, the most effective, the most investment-worthy.

I am like a wealthy man who looks back and sees the brilliance of the risk he took early on when the company whose stocks he went without extras to buy, went world-wide and made him richer than he ever could have imagined.

Because I am richer than I ever could have imagined. And this is one of those weeks when I am counting the gold. And someday she will too. But she won’t have enough time to count it all because her kids will be calling her to come, to talk, to see, to be a part of the beautiful times of their lives. Because she’s mom. Because she did what she needed to do, and then did more. And then did it again.

I wish she could see…

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. If you are one of those who “needs to see that the future turns the present into the best of days”, will you let me know? I would be honored to pray for you even as I relish my present-future.

(source)

Jesus Christ is the same

yesterday

today

forever

Hebrews 13:8

Today is the first day of Wedding Week at my house.

WW has been the endpoint on our to-do list for months. Actually, that’s not completely true— WW has been the focal point of my to-do list. Even with all my hints and reminders and notes and suggestions, it has not entered Phil’s head that Wedding Week is the deadline when everything Must. Get. Done.

And maybe that’s why he’s positioned to have fun this week and I’m up ridiculously early, uptight and anxious because of all the to-do’s not crossed off The List.

I know that if I stay up late tonight and get up early tomorrow and work like a crazy woman I can still do it. The garage that resembles the aftermath of an earthquake, the books still in boxes that crowd my creative space, the guest room comforter that I haven’t replaced with that charming crisp comforter I saw in the catalogue— that catalogue that followed me to Firwood Cottage as if to say,

“Uh, Di… you really need newer, better, brighter, nicer stuff… let us help you! And we’ll offer you a discount so you can feel like you got a deal! Then you can put the old one that’s too-good-for-Goodwill in the garage…”

In just a few days everyone will see my not-doneness.

My sister, who is the best decorator in the world—the one whose Pinterest page I copy shamelessly, whose garage has never, ever been messy.

My daughter who been hearing stories about our new/old, way smaller, and more charming home but still hasn’t seen it and probably imagines it is nicer than it is.

And the rest of my kids whose eyes grew round with incredulity as they watched the process of turning what was a stinky, ugly 1969 ranch into a home their perfectionist mom can find rest in… and still cannot quite believe that I’ve really adopted the minimalist mentality they embrace.

And oh— I need to wash my windows! Add that to my list of not-dones.

Or… not.

Maybe the garage will wait for a day when I have time to dawdle through memories before I give the rest away. Maybe the rain is coming in a couple of days to wash the dust off the windows. And maybe I like those little hand prints silhouetted on the door to the patio— because when baby Scarlet comes this week she’ll see those markings of her last visit and feel right at home, right welcome at Amma and Pop’s house.

Maybe my list needn’t drive me. Maybe I am more than the sum total of what I haven’t got done. Maybe clean windows don’t define my worth as a woman.

Maybe.

And maybe it’s time I do what I’ve been learning. Because starting last spring and all this summer I’ve heard the wind of the Spirit whispering rest to my striving. I’ve been in a sort of remedial school of the Spirit— hearing, feeling, sensing an invitation into a new way of experiencing His love.

Of living fully in the present, of listening to Him in the moment— this moment.

A way of being that unchains me from my self-imposed obligations, setting me free to be aware of His speaking to me now, not later, not when my list is done, not when I have time.

All summer I’ve been going on worship walks. Not to be confused with power walks or prayer walks or the-dog-needs-walking walks. These are more like rambles, strolls through the woods near my house. No watch, no phone, just me.

And I notice.

How the wind cleans the firs and cedars of excess needles, blanketing the ground with pungent softness. The freshness of the sky, the pokiness of blackberry bushes, the spinning of spiders.

Mostly I notice Him; the maker of beauty, redeemer of wrecked things; this One whose specialty is bringing order to chaos and beauty to brokenness.

And on these rambling forays He has been teaching me to notice the now. What He is doing now, what He is saying now, who He is wanting me to love on right now.

Now is so entirely unnatural for me. I am a dreamer; a woman who lives in her head, who thinks up ideas and possibilities and plans. I live by lists, all those things I want to do in the hopes that I can capture that elusive sense of completion. Of dreams achieved.

I live, not in the now, but in the when.

When the children grow up, when the cottage is finished, the bills are paid, the book written, the garage organized…I’ll be done: happy, complete, and at peace.

And some of you live in the then. The happy days of how it used to be. You fill your moments with memories of a time that seemed less stressful, better, fuller, more satisfying and safe. You’re thankful… for the past, for what used to be.

When your belly didn’t bulge, when children didn’t bicker, when you were being pursued. You mourn days lost, a way of life you will never have again.

You live, not in the now, but in the then.

I think God is all for memories, and certainly all for dreams. But those are places to visit- occasionally. Take a vacation into the past. Go on an adventure into future possibilities. But…

Live in the now.

And so, I tuck The List away this week. I file it under “later”, close the drawer, and look up. I catch His grin and smile back.

He is here and He’s been here all along. He loves this family of mine, loves the way they laugh and tease and shed tears so easily and have to apologize so frequently. He loves their passion and their personalities, relishes their genuine, rare, flawed-but-faithful love for each other. And so do I.

I am drinking it in, great gulps of now.

Will you join me?

From my heart,

Diane

P.S. I am loving your comments! I felt welcomed back all week as I read your words and heard your hearts once again. Thank you. I feel richer when we’re talking.

P.S.S. If you want peeks at my week, I’ll be posting pictures shamelessly on Instagram. @dianewcomer is my moniker there, a fun place to notice the now. 

still trying to reconcile my list with my reality

the one whose minimalist message has tugged at my too-much sensibilities long enough to convince me to learn to live simply.

(source)

Dear Girls,

I have been, for the past several months, cocooned in quiet. No new posts, no fresh thoughts, rarely peeking my head out into this big wide world of the web.

I didn’t plan on this; didn’t intend to take a Sabbatical from blog writing. I just lost steam. Too many items on my to-do list that weren’t getting done but that needed doing— combined with a subtle shift in my motivations that I hadn’t detected… and I found myself with nothing to say.

A strange condition for a woman who often has to purposely shush the onslaught of words in order to clear her head.

And yet, even in my silence, God has been speaking: soothing, convicting, teaching, revealing things that needed uprooting down deep. I’ve filled journals with lessons learned, with Scriptures He has etched into my soul, with warnings to myself, and with tidbits of His grace.

And I’ve been writing my book. The rough draft is done and now I’m in the process of following the wisdom of my editor. It’s a slow process but I am learning so much and having more fun with it than I ever thought possible.

Sometime about mid-summer I started to ask God if He still wants me to write via the blog. Assuming nothing, I felt the need of a mandate once again. What a terrible waste of time if I just keep doing what I’ve done without His power— and so, borrowing Moses’ plea, I cried, “If You don’t go with me, I’m not going!”

I heard nothing for a long time.

Yet I felt that tension too— like a weighted pause. As if He wasn’t speaking because I hadn’t been listening, not really listening. You know, like a mama who throws out questions but doesn’t stop long enough to hear the answer?

Eventually His silence got my attention.

As I carved out time to really listen, leaning in and waiting, I heard the words of Jesus to poor, conflicted, feeling-so-sorry-for-himself Peter: Feed My sheep. 

And as He often does, I heard Him whisper with the gentlest answer…

“Di, do you love Me more than these?

Yes, Lord, You know I do.

Feed My lambs... take care of My sheep… feed My sheep.” (read John 21- so rich!)

And sometimes I think we need to hear that… both the challenge and the clear direction. Because it takes a love more than these to keep doing what we’re called to do day after day after day. It’s true for the mother of little ones, for the woman who works to provide, for the student and the caretaker and the teacher and the business owner and… the blog writer.

My more than these includes all the pressures I put on myself to live perfect. Perfect order, perfect balance, perfect words. To love Him more than these means to live at rest with imperfection so I can serve Him in this messy, mixed up world of ideas and relationships.

Will I ever really figure it out? All I know is that…

I feel as though I have so much to say that I’m going to burst if I don’t start writing it down! 

Lessons about prioritizing, about doing less, about living in the moment instead of always fussing about the next thing… as well as good books I’ve been reading that I’m wanting to recommend to anyone who loves to read and longs to learn.

And so here I am, heading into a fresh season of writing for this blog, excited about where He is leading and what He is saying.

We will be posting on a schedule (for those among us who want to know all about order and structure and what to expect!) that goes something like this:

Mondays: Our House

For those of you who followed Letters To My Son, these letters are a continuation of the story. Matt and Simona are getting married on September 27^th and I will begin posting a week later on October 6^th.

For the better part of the first year of their marriage I will write letters filled with lessons I have learned… things I wish I’d known… advice… and encouragement.

Some letters will be directed to Matthew- and men in general. As an older woman— a mom— I have some things I want to say that I hope will help men know how women think and process and what we need in order to thrive.

Other letters will deal with women, written to Simona— and all my girls.

And many of the letters will be to the both of them— to men and women who want to understand a better way of loving well, who want to learn how to…

“walk in the way of love,

just as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us

 as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.”

Ephesian 5:2

And as an added bonus, Hillary has agreed to illustrate these posts in her beautifully creative and often symbolic expression of truth.

Wednesday or Thursday: Glimpses

These are short (well, at least in theory) spill-overs from my times of listening to God in His Word. My chance to open up my heart to you and let you know what I am learning and how He is speaking into my very real, ordinary life.

I’ll also review books I am loving. As a voracious reader, I’m dying to connect you with authors whose words are making a difference in my life.

On Some Fridays: The Kitchen

That’s right! Elizabeth is cooking up a storm in her tiny vintage kitchen in the heart of L.A. And maybe, if we’re especially lucky, she’ll post a few video clips of her trusty sous chef, aka Scarlet. There will also be several guest foodies contributing recipes and instructions from time to time.

As always, I crave your comments. Your words open up a conversation so that I know who I am writing to.

With a heart rested and ready,

Diane

P.S. Do you have a particular need you’d like me to address? A question that’s been bugging you? Please leave it in the comments and I’ll do my best to listen well.

P.S.S. If you haven’t already subscribed via e-mail, might I suggest you do so now? And follow me on Instagram (@dianewcomer) if you’d like to see pictures of the wedding and all the fun that surrounds it.

(source)

“I will make you my wife forever,

showing you righteousness and justice,

unfailing love and compassion.

I will be faithful to you and make you mine,

And you will finally know Me as LORD.”

Hosea 2:19,20

NLT

The Meaning of the Name:

All through out Scripture, God uses the marriage metaphor to give us the sense of the relationship He wants with each of us.

In the book of Ruth, Boaz is a captivating picture of Jesus the Redeemer, coming to rescue us and sweep us away with His love.

In the Song of Solomon, we are invited to peer into the private moments of a couple in love.  The poetry poured onto those pages cannot help but point us to a relationship with God that is far more intimate than anything we have ever before experienced.

Then Hosea is ordered by God to marry an unfaithful, unworthy woman—just so He can demonstrate in tangible story how much He longs for us regardless of our filthy history.

In the book of Ephesians, Paul uses the same symbolism to capture God’s heart for the Church.  He speaks of nourishing and cherishing us, of washing us, of presenting us as lovely brides to the One who waits to draw us close.

Do you know Him in that way? 

Can you shed your stiff image of a God waiting to pounce on you at the slightest provocation?  Do you understand how deep His love runs for you?  That He is crazy for you?

He is the only One who is always faithful.

He is the only One who will never leave you or disappoint you. 

He is really the only One who loves you just the way you are. 

After all, He is… your Husband.

Ephesian 5:25-27

Isaiah 54:5-8

Hosea

Isaiah 62:4,5

(source)

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.”

“So God created people in his own image,

God patterned them after Himself;

male and female He created them.”

Genesis 1:1, 27

NLT

The meaning of the Name:

In the first hours of time, God took upon Himself the work of creating a world of life.  Out of “a waste and emptiness”[1], He moved and spoke and painted beauty.  With His fingers, the Psalmist tells us, He created sunsets andstorms and hummingbirds and lightning. His creation reflects His very nature, shouting out His “invisible attributes”[2] to a world empty without Him.

And He created us.  Each of us, made in His image, a uniquely faceted aspect of who He is.[3]

Elohim has been creating since He first opened the pages of His story and He is creating still. 

He made you and He is still making you, writing your story as a part of His own. With intricate skill He carves His face into your life, smoothing roughened edges, correcting crooked angles, shaping His beauty into who you are.

Do you sense His artistry?  Are you soft and pliable, yielding to His touch?  Or are you oblivious to His creativity—dashing helter skelter through your days irregardless of His grace?

Pause a moment and think.

God began a good work in you before you were born[4] and He hasn’t quit.  In fact, He is perfecting and polishing His work in you today and every day.[5]Are you impeding His progress?  Resisting His touch?  Dragging your heals at what you know He wants you to do? Could it be that you think you know better than Elohim what your life ought to look like?

Are you trying to control God?

If your soul confirms the conviction that what you really long for is His creative hand in your life and circumstances, then tell Him that right now.  Let Him do what He has been doing since the beginning of time.

After all, He is…Elohim.

From My Heart,

Diane

Genesis 1

Philippians 1:6

Isaiah 40:28,29

Isaiah 65:17-66:2

Jeremiah 18:1-6

---

[1]Genesis 1:2 NASB Open Bible

[2] Romans 1:20

[3] Genesis 2:26,27: 9:6

[4] Psalm 139

[5] Philippians 1:6

  (source)

The beauty of this name of God is unsurpassed.

Literally rendered, with us is God, the name echoes both the longing of God’s heart towards us and our aching emptiness without Him.

One of Satan’s most effective ploys seems to be to make use feel isolated— like nobody knows what’s going on with us, nobody understands, nobody really cares.

Alone.

Jacob’s solitary flight from his raging brother took him away from all that was safe and familiar. After several days of traveling along the ridge road through the hill country, watching his back in fear of Esau, Jacob fell exhausted to the ground near the town of Luz. Finding no shelter, he lay down to sleep with a stone for a pillow. There he slept the sleep of one exhausted from anxiety, tormented by regrets and feelings of failure. He had sinned, and that sin left him alone and afraid, his future uncertain.

Sometime during the night, Jacob had a dream. He saw a stairway between heaven and the earth he lay on. Coming up and down through that portal, Jacob saw angels busy about their task of bringing messages to the sons of men and help to the people of God.

And that’s when he heard this astonishing news that God was with him.

“I will be with you and will protect you wherever you go.

I will someday bring you safely back to this land.

I will be with you constantly until

I have finished giving you everything I have promised.”

(Gen.28:15)

Jacob woke with a start! Could it be? Had he heard right? Was God really promising to be with him no matter what? In spite of his mistakes, regardless of his failures?

The very idea scared him to death! For him to realize that God was with him changed everything.  “Surely”, Jacob remonstrated, “God is in this place and I wasn’t even aware of it.”

From the beginning of Creation, God has made His presence known to His people.  With Adam and Eve as they strolled together through the garden during the cool morning hours, with Abraham as he dreamed of a better life, even with Paul as he fiercely fought against His plan.

God was with each of them.  And God is with you.

Do you believe that?  Really?  Do you believe that God is with you in the good times and the bad, no matter what?  It’s easy to believe that God is with us when we’re surrounded by raised hands, swaying to the sounds of worship.  But what about when you’re afraid? Or alone?  Or ashamed?

Hold on to the hope of His presence. 

Cling to Him when you’ve sinned and when you’ve failed. 

Run to Him when no one else understands.

He is… God with us.

From My Heart,

Diane

Isaiah 7:14

Matthew 1:22,23

Genesis 28:15

Matthew 28:20

Psalm 139

Joshua 1:5

Joshua 1:9

John 14:3

Hebrews 13:5

Isaiah 43:2-5