my story – Page 3 – The Welcome Home

His Grace is Enough

Are you having a difficult time seeing and believing that the grace of the Lord is sufficient for you — for whatever concerns you — for the circumstances in which you find yourself today?

Do you long to know — to see and believe — that His grace is enough?

[cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]And he said unto me,
My grace is sufficient for thee:
for my strength is
made perfect in weakness.
Most gladly therefore will I rather
glory in my infirmities,
that the power of Christ
may rest upon me.

2 Corinthians 12.9[/cp_quote]

* HisGraceIsEnoughpamelaspurlingcard

[cp_dropcaps]I[/cp_dropcaps]n seeking to rest in knowing that His grace is enough, I pray, Lord…. please show me that Your grace is sufficient for me. Please show me Your strength in my weakness. So I determine to not run from this place of weakness — or to reject this season of struggle, change, and uncertainty — this season of weakness. I don’t want to waste a day of His grace, I don’t want to waste a moment of weakness. For it’s here that I find Him — it’s here that I clearly find His comfort and grace for each moment. I don’t want to wish this all away—for I surely want the power of Christ to rest upon me.

I recall to mind the many times He’s shown me His great grace (or, actually, the many times I’ve noticed). I wonder what He had for me that I missed — I wonder what grace I’ve dismissed or exchanged for despair, worry, regret. I wonder what peace I’ve passed up. I wonder how He would have/could have used me had I been yielded to Him. What a thought, eh? But you know what I’m discovering in this great season of redemption–this season of the Lord redeeming the time for me? There’s grace for all those things, too. This is the love of God. That while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Yes, and throughout my life, wherever I’ve been… while I was yet a sinnin’, yet a falterin’, yet distracted… Christ ever lives to make intercession for me. I miss this great grace, this great love when I’m too cool, carrying on in my own strength, independent, “in need of nothing.”

Yes… His grace has been sufficient. It’s enough. It’s full. How full is full? Enough. Enough is full.

*my friend just gave me this beautiful card… I wanted to share it with you.

Remembering the Anchor

psalm16 As I was mulling over a bunch of different events and circumstances affecting or involving our home and family this morning as the winds of change continue to blow, and I found myself reeling in thoughts of sadness, happiness, doubt, hope, confusion — as if tossed in the waves of a rolling sea. And then, almost as immediately as my mind was filled with cares of this life, I was calmed by the blessed assurance that “the lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places” (psalm 16) and, truly, the Lord is ever before me. And, I’m further comforted that regardless of how this ship is tossed to and fro or whether it takes on water — or whether I stagger about, one thing I know (that I know that I know that I know): my Anchor holds.

I think of the hymn, My Anchor Holds; I think of Scripture that affirms to me that I have an anchor – a sure Anchor. Though once again my circumstances *seem* to be louder than the Truth or *seem* to be lacking clarity, purpose or reason, I can be sure my Anchor holds. And this is bcz my Anchor isn’t dependent on me or my actions or understanding, and my Anchor isn’t dependent on my ship. My Anchor is Jesus. The same who has given me my lot, the same who is the Author and Finisher of my faith, the same who is my Redeemer and Friend: He is the Anchor of my soul. He is ever before me.

Wherein God, willing more abundantly to shew unto the heirs of promise the immutability of His counsel, confirmed it by an oath: That by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us: Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the veil; Whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus, made an high priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec.” —Hebrews 6. 17-20

So I affirm to the Lord that I know He is with me — I know He is for me — and I know He only does all things well. I know this because I have seen this all through my life, I know this because I read it in His Word — His precious, infallible, unchanging, sure Word. A decision, then, needs to be made. I can decide to look at and listen to and reel with my circumstances or I can remember His Word. I have an anchor. I have a refuge. I have a Hope. I have a forerunner… “even Jesus.” I remember my Anchor holds.

Back to Psalm 16
The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage. I will bless the LORD, who hath given me counsel: my reins also instruct me in the night seasons. I have set the LORD always before me: because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: my flesh also shall rest in hope.” ps 16.6-9

And here are the words to the William C. Martin hymn, My Anchor Holds

Though the angry surges roll
On my tempest-driven soul,
I am peaceful, for I know,
Wildly though the winds may blow,
I’ve an anchor safe and sure,
That can evermore endure.

Refrain:
And it holds, my anchor holds:
Blow your wildest, then, O gale,
On my bark so small and frail;
By His grace I shall not fail,
For my anchor holds, my anchor holds

Mighty tides about me sweep,
Perils lurk within the deep,
Angry clouds o’er shade the sky,
And the tempest rises high;
Still I stand the tempest’s shock,
For my anchor grips the rock.

I can feel the anchor fast
As I meet each sudden blast,
And the cable, though unseen,
Bears the heavy strain between;
Through the storm I safely ride,
Till the turning of the tide.

Troubles almost ’whelm the soul;
Griefs like billows o’er me roll;
Tempters seek to lure astray;
Storms obscure the light of day:
But in Christ I can be bold,
I’ve an anchor that shall hold.

However it is with you today… remember the Anchor.

Yesterday & Tomorrow

Amelia june2015 Daniel june2015 For the last fourteen years, I’ve had a day where I’ve stood between two days, looking back and looking ahead. Today is that day. Fourteen years ago when I looked back at that “yesterday” and ahead to that “tomorrow,” I didn’t know that I would come to call it my Bookends Day. I didn’t know at the time that a final chapter had been written… that the baby born on June 29th would be my last living baby. And when I looked ahead to “tomorrow” that day, I was amazed that my first baby would be twenty two. Twenty two and expecting his first baby to be born just weeks later.

Very early this morning, the trucks were rolling down the lane and the chainsaws began to hum. I knew this day was coming and I’d so dreaded it. I cried at the thought of wrecking the very tree that drew me to this home. I stood in the yard today, watching several guys work for many hours cutting the trees. Huge limbs from the giant weeping willow tree thudded to the ground in our side yard. In the end, they removed twenty feet from the tree’s height. “Such a magnificent tree” one of the tree guys had commented. Yes, I said, It’s the prettiest tree in the valley.

And now it’s not. It’s a silly looking tree now. But, you know, I sure am thankful tonight to still be able to see it—God in His mercy reminded me of His great provision several times today as I thought of my friends in Wenatchee who’ve been evacuated from their home due to severe wild fires. For the first time ever, that willow tree was just a tree. I needed it to be just a tree today. On the Bookends Day. I needed it to mark the end of a season. I needed it to come to being just a tree. And I needed to be reminded that I have been so extremely fortunate, all these years, to sleep under the canopy of the prettiest tree in the valley. If I never slept under it another day, I’d be no less fortunate.

In the middle of the day, our mail lady delivered letters and packages. My husband handed me one of them and said it was a gift for me… perfume… the perfect gift for today… I’m so glad it had somehow been delayed in arriving. Among the other packages in the mail today was another gift for me, only I didn’t know it at the time. When our daughter came home, she brought me one of the packages and, in the marvelous timing of the Lord, the package contained a book — a book of photographs taken here a few weeks ago when all the family (and spouses and children) had gathered for an evening photography session. Page after page of pictures of the house and yard that built our family. It was so timely to receive that gift on this day, Bookends Day, the day between yesterday and tomorrow.

I marveled today that the cutting of the willow tree and several others, was yet another tangible display of the end of a season. The trees will never be the same again. This home will never be the same again, I thought. I was thankful for the Lord to show me that and to make it so that I couldn’t wonder if the season had really come to a close or not.

It’s odd and it’s right that our oldest girls are moving to their own home and that this is their last night “at home.” It’s odd and it’s right that this would happen on Bookends Day. There are no coincidences, only Co-incidents. Tears and laughter, joy and sorrow, each season is filled with these… and it’s odd and it’s right.

Our House Our Welcome Home

♫ Never_Walk_Alone

W fence e stepped inside the front doorway of our new house nineteen years ago. From that moment, this nearly one hundred year old farmhouse felt like home to me. In my notebook that I carried most everywhere I went was a page of notes — prayer requests, actually. And among those requests were *specific details — astonishingly, right before my eyes, most everything in and about this home that day. I realized that the Lord had, in His merciful kindness allowed me to write that list, pray over it and wait on Him. It was also in His merciful kindness that He would provide or answer those requests.

That list was made as a result of talking with my sister in law about the non-availing search for a home for our family — her thoughtful, encouraging suggestion was that I just write out a request and lay it before the Lord. She encouraged me to write it out seeing that He already knew my heart and more importantly, that He already knew what we needed and, Providentially, His own answer to those needs.

The day I first walked through this home, pregnant with our ninth baby, carrying the eighth in my arms, our other children walking beside me, hand in hand, I was overcome with all I saw. So much history worn into the floors, walls and door frames of this old house. That mental picture comes to mind whenever I wonder: Can God provide a table in the wilderness? And when I affirm: surely, His eye is on the sparrow.

I’ve always imagined that when we get to heaven, the Lord will take us in His arms and say, Welcome Home. And we’ll forever be home. We’ll forever be in the place He prepared for us and we’ll never lack, never doubt, never hunger, never wander. We’ll never seek another, never long for another place when we’re finally home.

In the early days, we sat on the *porch swing, soaking in the morning sun — so much *open space around us. We stood in *our yard and watched the sunsets. Light streamed in the *windows on *all-four-sides of our house. Our yard – what an amazing thought to us! We were overcome with gratitude to the Lord for His goodness. Every day, the sun (or the rain or the wind) was visible outside our bedroom window under the canopy of the *willow tree. Children ran up and down the lane, played in *the field, took turns on the tire swing hanging from the *willow tree. They bathed in the old *claw-foot bathtub and each had a *special area in the bedrooms–*enough room for everyone. … we ate from the *garden — raspberries and a little later that year, apples and walnuts. All these * things * were on my list. All of these things so amazed us day after day. More so, year after year.

Around that time, on our front door I wrote: The Welcome Home. I never wanted to forget that this house was a little glimpse, a little foretaste of heaven. Anyway, that’s why I call this site The Welcome Home… the blog I write under the willow tree of the welcome home.

Sincerely wrong. The IBLP-ATI Years.

wisdombooklet Another IBLP/ATI article has surfaced… and brings to mind so many memories tonight. As many of you know, for several years, beginning in the late eighties, our family was involved in attending and subscribing to the Institute in Basic Life Principles and then for a few years with the home school program, ATI – the Advanced Training Institute. It is very easy to distance ourselves from both IBLP & ATI today — but there was a time in the early days, it would have been unthinkable (I’ve written about this a number of times as referenced below). It would have been unthinkable to question the material, motives and authorities in ATI. I think that’s probably the case for other former IBLP/ATI families, by the way. Even though, from time to time, a couple of other families we knew would talk over some ATI issues or problematic areas.

ATI was a time of eager desire, a time of striving, a time of sincere effort to be and do all we could possibly do to be a godly family, to be wise parents raising up a generation of bright and cheerful, obedient and attentive, grateful and radiant children. We really did buy into giving the world a new approach to life! It looked so good, sounded so good, felt so good, seemed so good. We sincerely strove for excellence in all we did. But then at some point we began to see error — error in ourselves, error in the material, error in the messages and conflict with what the Bible was actually saying vs. what the Institute was sending. Then blatant error. We couldn’t reconcile what we knew to be true and what the Institute was teaching. Then gross error. We couldn’t continue excusing and ignoring the errors. We began to see the legalism (even though we were emphatically told that what we were doing and being taught was not legalism). We couldn’t overlook the works based faith and the utter lack of Biblical grace. We could no longer accept a counterfeit to genuine faith and genuine waiting on the Lord.

What initially seemed to be such a sound homeschool curriculum was actually a series of booklets laced with error. There sincerely was much good — very much good — but the errors persisted. We began to see the Bible misused or misapplied. And the gift of God’s inspired Word to us was being used by the Institute as its source of lifted and twisted scriptures neatly worded and arranged to instill and fit into a neat package: a new approach to life — which was actually a systematic indoctrination and conformity to the Institute. IBLP & ATI were initially Scripturally sound —no, wait— they seemed to be Scripturally sound. But it wasn’t. And, in the end, the indoctrination of IBLP & ATI took years to untangle, years to sort out and years to unlearn. By the grace of God, we walk by faith.

IBLP & ATI:

From Blue & White …in a Mother’s Meeting in Tennessee and I would hear a phrase that would come to have incredible significance to me. One of the mothers commented to another: Well, you don’t have to be so blue and white about it! I let that sink down in my ears. Tucked it away for some future day… and when that day came, I understood. I totally understood.”

From More ATI / IBLP Baggage & Freedom …Errors ought to raise red flags. They have with me… and if you/your family was involved in the program, probably with you, too. It may seem a moot point to bring all this up, now, but actually, I’ve shared much of this in the past and stuff keeps resurfacing. And then there’s this strange unspoken cardinal rule that one doesn’t question the Institute or Mr. G. (Yep, and that oughtta be a red flag for ya!)

From Unpacking The ATI / IBLP Baggage …it’s my hope that the unpacking of some of the ATI / IBLP baggage will be a freeing experience — that it will be an encouragement to other women to be done with wondering if you’re doing the Christian walk right enough or — if you’re in, or formerly in, ATI: whether you’re good enough, charitable enough, hard-working enough, orderly enough, diligent enough, attentive enough, thorough enough, bright eyed enough, smiling enough, industrious enough, virtuous enough, resourceful enough, wise enough… or any other enough of the 49 character qualities. I’m not mocking character qualities — seriously, I’m not — but if the source of character is anything or anyone but the Lord Jesus, then it’s just flesh. It is walking/operating in the flesh. It’s just like what Eve did… it’s wanting to make self wise and using personal resources and personally determined logic…”

From The ATI-IBLP Mess In 1991 we enrolled in the Advanced Training Institute. I say with all sincerity, it really did seem like the best thing for our family as we were already homeschooling our children and we really wanted them to have a full-well-rounded Christian education. At home. I see now how easy that program was to get lured into desiring. We’d already been receiving much training through the seminars and materials and so it seemed the likely next step. As we saw the ATI materials and the bright, smiling faces — who wouldn’t want that for their family?!? I sincerely thought they were all h.a.p.p.y. And I wanted to our children to be well educated, smiling, grounded and h.a.p.p.y. like that. I know, I know, some of you are, at this point, taking a break to throw up in a bucket. Sorry if your keyboard is a mess. But I guess I just want you to understand — or, really, I just want to recall to mind what really was going on at the time. And subsequently.”

From ATI / IBLP Tangled Web What’s to follow is sort of a synopsis of some aspects of our ATI days. Man was it a sticky mess sometimes. Problem with good things is that they are so often a substitute for best things—good things are so often the enemy of best things —– we see the good things and grab onto them, not taking the time to fully weigh them to see if they are best things. So we settle for good things… thinking they are best things. This analogy breaks down, of course, but thinking in analogies is one of the good things in the tangled web of ATI/IBLP.”

Over the years I’ve reflected many times on things I regret doing or not doing because of what was going on in those years. And as for the ATI/IBLP? I’ve had to stop recounting stuff to our children and even to myself for the most part bcz it all really doesn’t serve much of a purpose and defeats the strides we’ve made through the years. It also digs up stuff that’s long been forgiven or long been settled and we’ve sure settled a lot! Besides, if the Lord’s covered it, why do we go and dig it all up and rehash it again? As sincere as we were, we’ve had to just settle it that we were sincerely wrong about a lot of things. And hopefully all the wiser for it.

By The Grace of God

[cp_dropcaps]M[/cp_dropcaps]y mind floods with memories today — memories of days, years, decades gone by. So many days, so many memories — so much grace the Lord has lavished on me through the gift of our firstborn daughter.

Two precious sons were born to us before the Lord gifted us all with this great treasure — this inestimable gift. I’m ever mindful that without her, I’d never have made it through. I’m blessed by this–I’m humbled by this. So very humbled by the grace of God in my life and the gift of her life.

In the early days, I’d never have been able to consider or imagine that one day I’d sort of trade places with her—but that’s pretty much what’s happened. I’ve received more from her than I’ve ever given. I’d learned more from her more than I’ve ever taught her. I’ve seen more through her eyes than I’ve ever seen with my own. She’s given me intangible gifts and favours I could never repay.

[cp_dropcaps]T[/cp_dropcaps]he congregation rose to sing the hymn, Grace Greater Than Our Sin. The hymnal I was holding rested on the top of my very pregnant tummy and the piano began to play. As we sang the words of the chorus: “Grace, grace, God’s grace, grace that will pardon and cleanse within, Grace, grace God’s grace, Grace that is greater than all our sin,” I received a gift—a name, a great name for our baby.

Not knowing I was carrying a girl baby, I tucked that name away in my heart. [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]All through my labour and delivery, I needed and looked for God’s grace. And He handed her to me… that sunny April afternoon.[/cp_quote] All through my labour and delivery, I needed and looked for God’s grace. And He handed her to me. Tears of great joy flooded my eyes and heart, that sunny April afternoon, as I looked into her dear face. She was so much more than I hoped for, more than I longed for—and through all these years I see she’s a gift for which I could never give enough thanks or praise to the Lord. Or to her.

I realize the great measure of responsibility I allowed her, gave her, called on her to carry. I’ve leaned on her strong shoulders as long as I can remember. In our family, after her were born eight more children and what originally began as cute help, sweet holding, playing with and doting over each next baby — being mama’s little helper over the years sort of grew into or transformed into being a right hand for me. I picture it this way, since I’m left handed, she literally became my right hand. I didn’t intend it, plan it or order it that way, it just happened. I’m sure there were many spectators who thought she did too much for me, had too many responsibilities or whatever, I don’t know—I just know she was ever at my side, ever asking what she could do or ever making up games, projects, crafts, and recipes for the littles. And I let her. It didn’t occur to me that things could’ve/should’ve been done differently—that she carried so much responsibility. I asked so much of her. Regarding all that, I don’t know if I’d do anything much differently if I could have a “do-over” today. Maybe I just can’t actually analyze and think of what should have been done differently in the early years.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a gazillion regrets. O man, do I ever. In these later years I regret my distractions, my internet addiction in the early days of webdesign, being overloaded with trying to be good enough/enough-enough. I regret that I didn’t transition well from being mother/guide/helper to mother/encourager/friend. I guess I was scared to let her grow up—to go—but I’ve sincerely had no reason to be. She never gave me cause to fear her growing up, it was all in my own head and a whole bunch of legalistic ideals that I could not/cannot live up to. I sometimes wish I could go back change a lot of that—and be more affirming, more encouraging — more available to her. I’ve learned so much from failings, regretting ever failing her. It’s humbling, really. Especially when I see all she is today — the faithful, trustworthy, capable, dependable, loyal, industrious, creative person she is — the blessing she is everywhere she goes. I pray for more opportunities to add to and carry out all I’ve learned. More opportunities to demonstrate or reciprocate all she’s done for me—by God’s grace, for God’s precious Kathryn Grace.

A blogger’s loss & gain

teapotcup [cp_dropcaps]H[/cp_dropcaps]ardly a week goes by that I don’t think (or mutter aloud) that this or that blog or twitter account will have a crash. In just a matter of time there will be an incident or an avalanche of incidents that will take a blogger to an intersection in her life where she’ll be broadsided some Thursday afternoon and she’ll sit on the floor, head in her hands, crying out to God for His mercy. But for now, she doesn’t ask for help because she doesn’t know she needs it. Yet.

Such was the case for me… going to bed most every night regretting all the stuff that didn’t get done that day… only to wake the next morning, hurrying to get enough stuff done to be able to log on, retrieve the messages, hurriedly scan blogs of interest, personally regretting lacking the coolest format and relevant blog topics, hurriedly editing the latest photos for a new layout and then opening the blog “new post” page to start another blog entry.

With new eyes, I see the new styles and formats year after year. Emails flood my inbox regarding new programs, site design software, search engine optimization, methods for attracting and increasing traffic, comments, customers, digital image editing, suggestions for link sharing and more. As I see these things for the few seconds they remain on the screen before they’re deleted, I think of all my years of temptation to be and do more — and now the young mothers who desperately long to have a successful marriage and pinterested motherhood, well educated home-schooled children, pinteresting organized homes and pinterest-perfect meals served on lovely tables in beautiful homes just like the pictures in the best blogs. I see the ideas, tutorials, instructional and encouragement blogs and I sincerely think it’s amazing how they’ve exploded exponentially over the last few years. The pictures almost have smell-o-vision and the images seem to be increasingly bigger, better, more than homemaking’s ever been. All, seemingly effortlessly accomplished. While blogging.

And for a while the mothers will be able to pull it off…. blogging and living. Living and blogging. Checking the other blogs. Sharing links and ideas. Guest posting. Guest hosting. I wish I could convey that a mama on the computer doesn’t realize — really does not realize — how much time is passing and what’s being missed and what’s NOT being done in the passage of time. I wish I could explain that the number of times a mama says Justa sec… Justa sec… only increases. I wish I could convey just what happens with each “Justa sec” that’s uttered. [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]What’s really happening is not what it seems like at the time to the mama.[/cp_quote] What it seems like at the time to the mama is that she really will hop up and play, or hop up and read that book, that she really will push that swing, see that funny face, play that game. But what’s really happening, more often than not, is that mindless commands are given, mindless affirmations are made, and in Justa sec, Justa sec… a child (or two or seven) is walking away. A child (or two or five) is ignored or put off or forgotten. Then time is too short for that story, that game, that swing, that funny face, that trip to the library. The hours pass into days, the days pass into months and the months pass into years. And all those Justa sec’s net nothing — nothing but a little more precious time online. And then the weary mama sinks down defeated… because at the end of that “Justa sec” is dinner, a spilled cup of milk, laundry, the phone or the door or the diaper or the dentist – fifteen minutes late. The tensions build, the frustrations increase and troubles start to flow like a river.

And then one day the crash happens. It may be a literal computer hard-drive crash or a website crash. It may be a failed or broken or damaged relationship. But a crash happens and the mama gets a wake-up call. She probably won’t realize in the moment, but then, the dawning of reality crashes over her like a tsunami that precious moments were missed and forever lost.

And the impact of the reality hits her as she crumbles on the kitchen floor. She gasps to breathe as she begins to catch a glimpse of what’s happened in the space of fifty thousand Justa sec’s. She’s leveled as she begins to realize the utter waste that consumed her days… that time to push the swing is past. Forever. In the theatre of her mind she recounts all the things forever gone, the pictures she never coloured with the littles, the funny things she didn’t even realize she missed… that the children stopped asking her to come and see, come and read, come and play… they knew that Justa sec never came. Justa sec never comes. Apologies would not make up for all that was lost. Sorrow wouldn’t restore the days and months that turned into years. Regret would not rewind the clock.

And in a puddle of tears and a heap of sorrow, she’s pretty sure she’ll never outlive these hard days — these very hard days of reckoning. But she will. God in His mercy will answer her cries. And He will tenderly cover her sorrows. He can restore what the locusts have eaten. A blogger’s loss may be another’s gain.

This is my story, this is my song, praising my Saviour all the day long.

Married for Keeps – The Treasure

[cp_dropcaps]M[/cp_dropcaps]ay the LORD be with you and bless you this day! He is so gracious to us all and His mercies are new every morning. I share this before I share my letter with you because I know that each time I share a letter on marriage, there are sisters whose hearts are breaking and the pain of marital difficulties weighs heavily on them. So it is with this in mind that I write and pray to offer a bit of hope today. What I’m sharing with you today is a message I wrote many years ago and have continued mulling over and continues to be the subject most dear to my heart and a main focus of ministry to women.

As I shared previously, at the beginning of each game of marbles, a circle was drawn in the dirt and the question was posed: “Are we playing for keeps, or are we just playing?”

You see, in marriage, it’s a lot like that and from the beginning, the ground rules or the foundation must be firmly in place and clearly defined. In observing couples over the years, I’ve often noticed that some seem as though they’re just playing while others are clearly playing for keeps. Some seem careless about the marbles in their bags… as if to disregard their value — while others cherish them knowing their worth is greater than all the finest jewels in the world.

As analogies often do, this analogy of marbles, games, and playing for keeps or just playing will break down quickly and perhaps lose the depth of meaning I’m intending to convey, but I ask you… are you married for keeps or are you just playing? If your answer isn’t an affirmative: playing for keeps(!), then may I ask you again for a moment more of your time… another visit over a cup of tea and a prayer for resolve to do whatever it takes to get to the heart of your commitment and to see any fault lines or cracks in your foundation and for you to take a sincere look at what else you’ve got in the bag that you’re treasuring. What might be competing or what might be distracting you?

As with most things, what you’ve got in your bag demonstrates what you treasure and what you’ve been willing to part with or what you’ve lost. You’ve likely had some of both, but will hopefully come to see, value and cherish your treasures more as the years go by.

[cp_dropcaps]T[/cp_dropcaps]he Treasures… There’re numerous treasures—valuable marbles in the bag of one who’s “married for keeps.” And for one who’s married for keeps, quickly discarding the worthless marbles or those things that will damage the treasures is paramount to the guarding of the treasures. In addition to faith in the Lord Jesus, marbles worth keeping and guarding are trust, intimacy, hope and love. Others are: forgiveness, repentance, forgetfulness of wrongs, laughter, tenderness, respect, more intimacy and loyalty. You see, all of these, if treasured and cherished, if guarded and kept polished, provide such strength and an unshakeable resolve to “play for keeps!” If these aren’t kept carefully, then the marriage will be open to all sorts of assaults and distractions resulting in damage or loss of any or all of the foundational stones or “marbles.”

Perhaps you’ve noticed the interaction in different marriages. Some, you’ve readily seen are played out sweetly with great precision as if every move is made with love and skillful intention; you might feel warmed by the loving respect you see displayed, the tender kindness you see demonstrated in even small, but thoughtful, things. You might be inspired by the kindnesses and courtesies given. You might be encouraged by the storms they’ve endured, the trials they’ve faced and suffered and the blessings they rehearse. But then in others, you see right away the negligence and disregard; careless words that make you wince, disrespectful attitudes that make you cringe, lack of respect, etc. The un-cherished treasure, the unloved gift—the bag of marbles spilling out — the pink cleary lost in the battle. I ache when I see this—but I’m instructed to take a look at my current reality–where am I at the moment?

Because I’m keenly intent on the matter, it’s an area of occasional spiritual attack and I’m so ashamed when I discover that I’ve not been gracious and loving to my husband, or that I’ve not cherished the treasure of the gift that he is. I grieve when I hear a man belittle, shame or mock his wife or a woman’s careless disrespect for her husband’s abilities, opinions or plans. It’s as if edification is for *others* but we allow a certain measure of leeway for our flaws or flexibility if we don’t feel like “playing by the rules” in our personal life or marriage that we might demand in others.

I shared with you last time that when I was a little girl playing marbles, I tried to play with intense skill and the determination of a professional as I’d guard that pretty “pink cleary” and I tried to never let it out of my site. Everyone knew it was my favourite as I rarely took it out of my little bag and played it only when I felt absolutely certain I’d not lose it. So it ought to be with each of us and the husband the LORD’s given us: each with our prized treasure: his hopes, his reputation, his home, his goals, his thoughts, his needs, his vulnerabilities, and his emotions—we ought to be so careful with these that we would do nothing to lose or damage them.

[cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. —Proverbs 31.12[/cp_quote]” All the days of her life. Not when convenient, not just when others are observing, not when comfortable, but all the days of her life. Doing good is *active* and intentional… laziness takes little effort, but doing good means taking initiative, being intentional and requires being resourceful. Why? Because sometimes we’ve got such a long way to go or feel there’s no good place to start that every move seems heavy and hopeless. But with God, all things are possible and nothing is hopeless—with God. That’s the key to being married for keeps: with God, all things are possible.

Today, a circle is drawn in the dirt… the take a look at the “bag” of the treasures of your life. Is the bag intact? What’s in your bag? Have you cherished the treasures in your bag? Is the circle in the dirt very clear and visible? Have you sought to be diligent in caring for the things the LORD’s called you to care for? Have you been careless with your treasures? Have you neglected or mishandled the treasures of your marriage? [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]do the next right thing. [/cp_quote]Today—while it is still today, do the next right thing. What have you neglected? Respecting him? Loving him? Meeting his needs? Honouring him? Building him up to your children? Have you laughed *with* him or *at* him? You see, the answers to these questions will give you a bit of a hint as to what next right thing is that you ought to do. On your knees your answers will come — this is what I have found to be true: on my knees, the answers have come.

Married For Keeps

[cp_dropcaps]Y[/cp_dropcaps]ou know, some ways of the LORD are very easy to accept and then there’re times when His way is a bit more challenging and the price seems a bit higher, perhaps a price too steep for us to consent to give. But, you know, in those times His mercy and grace seem greater. These are the proving grounds, these are the testings of our faith. I used to think that the testing of our faith was part trickery and part unrealistic expectation, something akin to being doomed to failure. O, but that’s not God, that’s not the God of peace: the all-wise, all-knowing, all-sufficient, all loving God of compassion. The enemy intends our failure at least and at most, our lack of faith in God—God who has promised to never leave us nor forsake us. But the devil would have us live/believe otherwise. So, when I share with you things that I am learning or have learned along the way, I don’t share with strong confidence save the confidence I have in and through Jesus, my Lord.

What I’d like to share with you today is a message I have been mulling over and working on for quite some time now. I’ll be sharing it in a couple of parts as your time is valuable and I don’t want to overstay my cup of coffee with you. So then, today I’d like to talk with you about marriage—a subject near and dear to my heart, a subject that is receiving much media attention of late. An institution that is under extraordinary attack and stands to be destroyed—but God!

When I was a little girl, my favourite part of each day at school was recess. I loved recess, I loved playing hop-scotch and tether-ball and I especially loved playing marbles. I had a little zippered bag with two handles and it held my precious marble collection. I had treasures in that bag that were dear to me and absolutely hated the thought of losing them. [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]Are we playing for keeps or are we just playing?[/cp_quote]Well, at the beginning of the game we’d draw a circle in the dirt; never content to just play the game, but fearing the consequence of loss, my question was always the same: Are we playing for keeps or are we just playing? I always feared the loss of my precious pink cleary marble. I probably played a bit carelessly if I knew we were “just playing,” but played with keen competitiveness and extreme caution when we were “playing for keeps.” With skill and determination of a professional, 😉 I’d guard that pretty pink cleary and never let it out of my sight. O, even the other little girls knew it was my favourite as I rarely took it out of my little bag, guarded it carefully and played it only when I felt absolutely certain I’d not lose it. This analogy breaks down of course, but you get the idea.

[cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”] ⁷Let us be glad and rejoice, and give honour to him: for the marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready. ⁸And to her was granted that she should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white: for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints. ⁹And he saith unto me, Write, Blessed are they which are called unto the marriage supper of the Lamb. And he saith unto me, These are the true sayings of God.
— Revelation 19[/cp_quote]When I think of marriage and the sacred bond between husband and wife, I think of that game from time to time. The Word says that husbands are to love, cherish and nourish their wives—even as their own bodies. Wives are to be subject unto their own husbands in every thing, reverencing them, as it were, with the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit. Both part of the whole, both leaving and cleaving: two become one flesh. So, the marbles… marriage… it will be a treasure to you and an heirloom for your children when you determine to draw that circle in the dirt—only playing inside that circle, and further, when you determine you’re going to not just play at it, but when you determine that, no matter what, you’re playing for keeps.

Married for Keeps means forsaking all others, living out that mysterious picture of Christ and the church — you will do whatever it takes to not lose a single marble. What are some of the marbles in the bag of one who’s married for keeps? I’ll share a few of those in “part two” of this letter. Until then, don’t lose your “pink cleary.” Your children are depending on you to have it in the bag.

In Three Hours

teapotcupdrawing The beauty of a plan is the presence of accompanying grace. I think this is true with most any plan. Well, except for plans with deadlines, specific time frames, appointments, etc.

So it is, with the Trim Healthy Mama “plan” for health and optimal weight or finding your trim. With grace.

Grace doesn’t mean carelessness, though. And it doesn’t mean neglect. I know that.
Now.

The result of neglecting the plan is sort of like how money evaporates in California. Or how the reaching of an optimal weight goal is erased by consuming bags of sea salt & dark-chocolate covered almonds from Costco. Or the only safe hot french bread and butter is a picture of hot french bread & butter.

So, I’m back on the plan — and, actually, I can’t tell you how vulnerable I’m feeling even saying it. I’m like: omygoodness, what if I fail? Again. Suddenly, it feels confining – like no grace at all. But, then I bring truth to mind: In three hours. There’s the grace. If I fail: in three hours (or any time!!) I have the opportunity to make a better choice/a right choice/a healthy choice. In three hours, I can get “back on the plan” and go on from there. In three hours. No starting all over again, just pressing on. I resolve to press on and prepare for my better choice.

The grace of a better choice in three hours is not license to excuse myself for overindulging or to eat whatever I want, whenever I want.

It’s amazing to me to see the parallels of grace regarding self will & food and obedience & faith.

Just like God’s merciful grace in our lives is not license to sin! God’s grace doesn’t absolve me from obedience to His known commands or the prompting of the Holy Spirit — it actually gives me more motivation to love and pursue God and to not do whatever I want, whenever I want. I know it’s by the grace and faith of the Lord Jesus that I can know Him, seek Him, walk with Him and trust Him to complete His work in me (and that includes the dying to self regarding food & over indulging).

God’s grace and the indwelling presence of His Holy Spirit gives me strong desire and reason to seek Him, to love Him, and to obey Him. For I know I haven’t done, or can do nothing in and of myself to earn or merit His favour — it’s all His, it’s all grace. Not just in three hours, but minute by minute, day by day.