Razor Blades and the Ex-Wife

Most of the time, I don't think about my husband's ex.

I mean, sometimes we get junk mail for her (why yes, she'd love to open another credit card account); she and Josh still have some mutual friends (we came across her MySpace page which was kind of awkward); and Josh and I have talked a lot about their relationship, and how the Lord has healed him from that pain. You can check out his blog entitled Redemption Draweth Nigh to read more of Josh's thoughts about his divorce.

Together we've prayed about it and closed the door on that part of Josh's life. We wish her healing and peace and that she'll stay out-of-state.

But mostly, I just don't think about her.

Until this week.

The front windows in our living room and our back kitchen door are painted white around the sills, and on the little strips of wood between the panes of glass. That looks nice.

What doesn't look nice is that the person who did that trim work didn't bother to mask anything, resulting in a one-inch smear of white paint on the glass.

Let's see... 4 separate panes of glass per window, times 5 living room windows, times 4 edges per pane, times how many inches per edge, times...HOW HARD IS IT TO USE A LITTLE MASKING TAPE?

I spent too many hours standing on a chair or kneeling on the floor with a spray bottle of some magical orange cleanser that says right on the bottle "Not Recommended for Use on Glass" that really did make the paint easier to scrape off. (hey...it was Josh's idea)

My hands cramped up severely and I have blisters on my thumbs from inching the razor blade along the glass.

Sometimes the paint would cooperate and peel off in satisfying 5 inch strips, but sometimes I had to pick pick pick at each little fleck. You know what a razor blade sounds like scratching on glass?

IT SOUNDS LIKE HIS EX-WIFE.

Scraping off all that paint was sort of a cathartic activity, allowing me to release some pent-up frustration with her that I didn't really realize I had. It's a good thing Josh wasn't around to listen to me curse as I almost slashed the razor blade through my rubber glove, or when the chair wobbled and I banged my forehead on the window sill.

Her fault...her fault...her fault...

It's weird to realize that if she had done things better in the first place, not only would I not be scraping paint off those windows, I wouldn't have Josh in my life at all. Not quite sure what to do with that line of reasoning. I think I continue to blame her for recurring pain that I see in my husband's life; Josh is better at releasing that hurt to the Lord than I am.

I'm grateful that God's love and providence comes from a perspective that is outside of human experience. I tend to just see smears of paint on every pane of glass...a cloudy vision of grace.

with glad and sincere hearts

This weekend Josh and I attended a two-part training session on leading small groups at our Vineyard Church. These verses from Acts 2 was the basis for the training, and while I'm not sure I learned anything especially new, it was a good review of how and why God wants His people to live in community and fellowship.

42They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. ⁴³Everyone was filled with awe, and many wonders and miraculous signs were done by the apostles. ⁴⁴All the believers were together and had everything in common. ⁴⁵Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. ⁴⁶Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, ⁴⁷praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.

For several months now, Josh and I have been talking and praying about the general need, and our personal desire, to connect young couples in fellowship with one another. The Vineyard has grown so large, and with 6 services every weekend, it's easy to feel disconnected from the few faces I do recognize.

After spending 2 1/2 years in leadership and precious fellowship at The Crossing in Sioux Falls, it has been a little intimidating to think about just starting up a new small group in a new town. We don't have that many friends...who would come? We live too far away...who could host? We don't know anyone else's phone numbers...how will we get the word out? Okay...time to pray.

A couple of weeks ago after church, we were chatting with our friend Bryan and his new fiancee Lori, and another couple we just met, Will and Brooke. Brooke sort of randomly said that she and Will were wanting to be in a small group; they just didn't know of one that fit what they were looking for. Bryan and Lori agreed. Yay! Answer to prayer # 1... People!

Then after the service last night, I decided to ask the couple sitting behind us if they were involved in a small group. Phil and Cassie said no, but that they just purchased a new house and really felt like they were supposed to use the space to host a Bible Study. Yay! Answer to prayer # 2 ... Place!

Then we found out from the young adult pastor, Cameron, that this upcoming weekend is Connect Weekend, where all the new small groups can advertise after each service. Yay! Answer to prayer # 3...Promotional Materials!

So basically I am just overwhelmed by the way this small group has come together, and the consistant provision and goodness that the Lord has shown through this situation. I am expectant of sweet hours of Bible study, friendship, prayer time and snacks.

Forever God is faithful, Forever God is strong, Forever God is with us, Forever!
Sing Praise!

The Year of the Vegetable

January. A month of grey skies, credit card bills, finding holiday M&M's and scraps of wrapping paper under the couch, and the determination to make life different this year.

At the beginning of 2006, I made two New Year's Resolutions:

1. Pray with people.

When I told someone "I'll pray for you," I would actually take a few moments to pray with them right then. This proved to be a great challenge and a blessing to both me and my surprised friends and co-workers.

2. Eat more vegetables.

This was sort of a cop-out resolution, cleverly and intentionally avoiding the unlikely resolutions of eating less dessert or exercising more. My path to a healthy lifestyle in '06 would be lined with broccoli stalks and carrot sticks.

I actually did pretty well. Every day in my lunch, I took some kind of veggie to munch on along with my sandwich and cookies, and I purposely spent more time shopping in the produce section. Steamed broccoli with cheese, spinach salads (with smoked salmon filets!), and frozen stir-fry snow peas, red peppers and bamboo shoots became common dinner essentials.

I could list so many ways in which the Lord prepared my heart to introduce Josh into my life during 2006, "The Year of the Vegetable" ...my parents' and grandparents' beautiful examples of marriage ...learning to share the bathroom mirror with phenomenal roommates (here's looking at you, Christa, Anna, Lindsey, April and Kate) ...a variety of friendships and church fellowships to both support me and remind me that there are always more people out there who want to be my friend ...a good painting buddy who was so delighted to be married to a strong-willed woman, and who gave me hope that someone would want to put up with me someday...

But also seriously essential has been my change in heart towards vegetables.

My husband loves vegetables. (I can hear my mother trying to hold back a gleeful smirk.)

Every time I go grocery shopping or plan meals, I have to remember this. I would be happy to live on bread and potatoes, but Josh needs green things. And things that are orange/yellow /leafy/ carmelized/steamed /garlicky/balsalmicky /cilantro-esque.

Over the past few days, we've eaten potato/carrot/spinach soup, bowtie pasta with red peppers/onions/mushrooms/spinach, spinach/broccoli/carrot/olive/mushroom/tomato/raisin salad, cous-cous with yellow squash/mushrooms/onions/tomato/garbanzo beans, and split pea/lentil/carrot/celery soup. We even chop up more vegetables to put on top of a frozen pizza! Onions for the universe!

We should be poster children for the produce section at our ghetto Price Chopper!

Josh is so good for me. And so are all those vegetables, I guess. And now that I think about it, so is the gym we joined. And don't forget the fact that Josh is allergic to chocolate and likes the taste of "lite" ice cream better.

Sheesh.

We're going back to our pre-marital counselor for a two-month check-up. I can only pray that all aspects of our relationship will prove to be as healthy as the food in our fridge!

I need to be careful what I make as my New Year's Resolutions for 2007...they might actually change my life!

Luck Be A Lady

This weekend Josh and I had date-night at Harrah's Casino. We dressed up like high rollers...Josh in his snappy velvet blazer and wing-collared shirt, and me in my black and silver swing dress and high heels. So much fun!

We each got $ 5 on our Casino Card. To my disappointment, you don't actually put nickels into the slot any more...it's all electronic. I'm sure it's easier for the casino, but when you win, there is no happy jingle of coins pouring out over your feet. Your Casino Card just adds 75 cents to your available balance. Not as cool as in the movies.

I'd never been to a casino before, so I was fascinated (and sort of overwhelmed) by the twinkly lights, happy-beepy machines, and sparkly waitresses. People of every hair-style imaginable pushing electronic pennies into hungry screen monitors; trying to line up pirates, pigs, or pineapple; greedy for a win.

Josh was a more agressive better, willing to risk up to 25 cents on every spin. He lost money quickly, but once won 2 whole dollars! I was more likely to bet a dime at a time. My money lasted longer, but I only won amounts like 40 cents. Our $ 10 lasted almost two hours. Good thing we don't have kids to feed!

I'm sure there's some moral lesson or deep metaphor to explore here, but we had to hurry off to the next party. We spent New Year's Day playing poker with our friends Cam and Sharla and Bryan.

The cards were stacked against Josh, and his chips dwindled quickly. Cameron and Bryan tried to read everyone at the table, betting and bluffing until they, too, lost their chips to Shar and me. No wonder they usually don't let the girls play!

All I know about playing poker comes from three sources: my buddy Schoney in Sioux Falls, the poker chapter in "Things You Should Know By Now," and Kenny Rogers' song "The Gambler."

You got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em,
Know when to walk away and know when to run.
You never count your money when youre sittin' at the table.
There'll be time enough for countin' when the dealin's done.

Overall, it was a weekend filled with the nagging thought of "maybe this time my luck will change." I got lots of time to practice my poker face and being a good loser.

I'm so grateful to rest on the promise of Jeremiah 29:11, where God says, "I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you."

Sure, it's fun to spend a few hours and a few bucks on games of chance. You're pretty much guaranteed to lose, but there's always that sparkly glimmer of hope for a few more pennies added to your Casino Card.

But what the Lord offers has nothing to do with chance and everything to do with certainty. His offer of eternal life is not about luck or about "maybe this will happen."

God knows the plans He has for us as we participate in His kingdom. He knows where we are, and He listens to us. The Lord is the treasure we seek, and He promises He will be found by us.

I'm betting on that.

and a Happy New Year!

Our first Christmas








O rosemary tannenbaum,
how evergreen your branches!
And how you make our house smell like
pork chops or mashed potatoes!





Santa Baby, hurry down the chimney tonite!

The Honeymooners

One of these days...
right in the kisser!



Pictures from our trip to Charleston are on Josh's blog:

www.sacredsalvage.blogspot.com

Playing House

Josh and I just celebrated our first month-iversary. Congratulations to us! We haven't taken our honeymoon yet, but real life is starting to set in.

I read somewhere about the post-wedding depression that some women experience. After all the drama and hype and stress and stage-fright and princess-ness of of being a bride is over, suddenly I'm faced with the pile of thank-you notes and the long hours at home by myself with the cat and the new city with its busy highways, and I'm no longer a bride.

I'm a wife.

The song from Working keeps runnning through my head...

All I am is just a housewife
Nothing special, nothing great
What I do is kinda boring
If you'd rather, it can wait
All I am is someone's mother
All I am is someone's wife
All of which seems unimportant
All it is is
Just my life


In my former life, I was uber-busy with a full-time and a part-time teaching job, finishing my thesis project, leading a small-group, serving on several leadership team committees, discipling two amazing young women, maintaining multiple friendships and family relationships, and blogging on a regular basis.

Oh, and I had a long-distance stranger- turned-boyfriend- turned-fiance.

Some days, that's about the relative percentage of time and energy I gave him.

This week...let's see... I've done several loads of laundry, run the dishwasher a couple of times, dusted the new furniture, fed the cat, watched a lot of Rachel Ray's cooking show trying to get motivated to cook, fed the husband, read a book about South Carolina, helped a friend pack up her kitchen, finished Christmas shopping, wrote a million thank-you notes (actually 74), napped on the couch while my husband played video games, packed for our honeymoon, got lost driving around KC, went to a Christmas party, and blogged. (once!!! today!!! finally!!!)

Oh yeah, and when Josh comes home from work, I'm waiting at the cottage door.
Who could ask for anything more?

My about-town-working-girl little sister just kind of laughed at me when I told her what I had been doing lately.

I'm in the process of looking for a "real" job (aka substitute teaching or reading specialist something), but I've been surprisingly blessed by the whole stay-at-home "being married" thing this month. It was one thing to study Scripture about marriage, or to read "successful marriage" books before we got married, and to anticipate the theoretical joy of togetherness. But there's a practical level of being a wife that is strangely fulfilling. Who knew I'd start to enjoy doing the dishes?

I can see how it is comforting and encouraging and helpful to Josh to see a friendly face and a hot meal (or at least chips and salsa) at 10:30 p.m. when he gets home from class.

But it's more than that...for me, it's been a challenge for, and a release from, my performance- product-oriented- purpose-driven personality.

How many sermons have I heard about casting off the legalistic works-based-salvation idea of "doing" good works for God's kingdom and learning to just "be" the church, to "be" in the Lord's presence, to "be" a Christian.

Taking away all of the jobs and roles I used to fulfill has made me confront what it means to just simply love and be loved, both by the Lord and by my husband.

Taking on the "Martha" role for a solid month of housework has actually helped me understand the "Mary" role of drawing near and enjoying the presence of my beloved.

Mr. and Mrs.

We got married! Yay!

Check out Josh's blog and Flickr site to see pictures from the wedding.

www.sacredsalvage.blogspot.com

I'll blog again soon, I promise.

Odds and Ends

I'm cleaning out my email in-box, and I ran across a couple of funny memories from my summer in Lithuania.

Lithuanian farmers keep cows out in the fields near the houses by tying a rope around the cow's neck, and attaching it to a big 5-gallon-bucket-size cement boulder.

The cow can walk around a bit, but won't go too far.

So I was looking at several black-and-white cows in a field, and then I see this stork nearby. You know, a big black and white bird with long legs and a big bill...very common here.

Suddenly in my head, I imagined the stork and all his stork buddies protesting this cruel treatment of cows, by tying themselves up to ropes with little plastic cups full of cement on the ends, making a peaceful picket-line along the highway.


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Also worthy of note: Actual sample sentences from my grammar book on comparative and superlative adjectives.

Superman is tough.

Tarzan is tougher than Superman.

But I, Big Bird, am the toughest of all.

God's fridge

Thou Knowest by Katharine Lee Bates

Thou knowest, Thou Who art the soul of all
Selfless endeavor, how I longed to make
This deed of mine, adventured for love's sake,
Thy deed,--sweet grapes upon a sunny wall,
A rose whose petals into fragrance fall,
A glint of heaven glassed in some lonely lake
Amidst the heather and the fringing brake,
Our secret,--ah, Thou knowest.
Though it call
Only for pardon, still to Thee I bring
My poor, shamed deed that craved the Beautiful,
--To Thee, the Master-Artist, Who alone
Wilt of Thy grace see in this graceless thing
The pattern marred by the imperfect tool,
And know that dim, wronged pattern for Thine Own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is what I sometimes feel like when I write...that my descriptive words are flat smudges of charcoal on canvas when what I am trying to create is a three-dimensional event, a breathing soul.

I long to make words come alive on the page or in a prayer, or for my work to be a blessing to be of some value, as God creates in His kingdom.

But I have an imperfect tool and imperfect talent.

My good works, good words, are filthy rags except for God's grace. He sees my attempts to paint, or write, or serve, or love. My "poor, shamed work that craved the Beautiful." He recognizes His handprint on me, sees Christ's blood covering my attempts at righteousness and beauty.

God recognizes His pattern in my feeble artwork, and hangs it on His fridge, because He knows me. He delights in me.

I think He looks at the feeble scribbles of life I offer Him and says, "Look what My kid made!"