wedding day

For Chrissy and Eddie on their wedding day…August 14, 2011

I John 4:16,18-19 says, “We know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them. ..There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love – because He first loved us.

Perfect love: infinite, radical, genuine, supreme, unconditional, champion, incomparable, crowning, unrivaled, august– which means marked by majestic dignity.

This perfect love is what you have and hold – hand in hand, heart to heart, life to life – because of God.

He is love – and He is the source of perfect love – Jesus Christ – and you have Him.

You are in His love and everything about your lives reflects that perfect love is real, and it is possible – to see, and realize, to receive, and give away without hesitation. What a gift to witness in your lives - a picture of what our God has done for us: – Chosen. Pursued. United by a covenant. Forever in perfect love.

A love that is infinite – because this love’s wellspring and teacher is God…

A radical love that waits.

A genuine love that rejoices in you and for you.

A supreme love that is humble – and will seek to serve and not be served…to honor others -never self.

An unconditional love that will not get angry easily, or keep a list of wrongs.

A champion love that will protect your heart – your mind – your body – your covenant relationship.

An incomparable love that always trusts.

A crowning love that always hopes.

An unrivaled love that always perseveres. Forever in this love - an august love... August love – that never fails.

my child

I have been here long before you. I have loved you before you knew my voice, my name, my touch. I have made decisions and choices on your behalf that will bring you joy, comfort and peace. I have also made decisions and choices on your behalf that you will not understand - not for some time. Some of those decisions may cause you discomfort - possibly pain - and sorrow. It is never my intention to harm you - only to help you in this life. Trust that I love you, no matter what you might feel in your skin - against your will. Trust that my love is both through instruction and correction. My love is through the challenges and, yes, through the ease in your day. Trust that my love for you is secure, and this love can never end. I will lavish you with it day in and day out, because you are mine.

I want for you to know me - to know my story - and see life through me so so that you will see the pitfalls, and dangers that I have marked with my own tears and blood; and then in turning from those dangers, I want you to see the blessings that come from self-discipline, humility, and obedience. I want for you to know me, my children, - to know my story so that you will have a guide for the rest of your life for what is good and true and right - and what is not. I want for you to know me, my story, so that you will know know who you are in this life you have been given - and consider well your own story. I want for you - the satisfaction of your created purpose - and to know where that purpose is found.

I want for you to seek a kingdom not of this world, and for that reason I want you to know full well the reality of the one in which you now grow. You must know the riches it offers - the way they fade and crumble - you must know the battle for good and evil - and see the reality of what evil is and how it destroys - what is truly good and how good prevails. You must know what it means to fight on behalf of others so that they, too, can fight for someone else. You must know that everything you choose to do - and say - and be - will affect those around you; - you must feel the weight of that cause - and the ease of it as well. - You must learn what is truth and what is a lie, and you must learn how to hold on to truth when no one else around you will. You must dig for truth deep into rock so that truth covers you and grounds you. And you must learn the face of temptation, his voice and his reasoning - and then be able to endure the lure of beauty and power that he offers. You must know the pleasures of this life, and ache over the emptiness in your soul when you've had your fill. Nothing constrained by flesh and blood can ever satisfy you, because you are created in the image of Spirit. You must know your image is not found here, and learn the sense of great expectation for what you are yet to be.

This world is passing away, and you were made to rule over it - not to be ruled by it.

There is so much I long to give you - but if I were to give you everything - you would miss the glory of the hunt - the joy of the quest for what is yours to hold, and know, and be, and give away in return, and you would miss everything you have been gifted to know by the Word that lives to make you see - and my child - you would miss the miracle of seeing LIFE without eyes.

I love you. Oh for the moment that you look to me - and truly know.

Psalm 139

growing in love

I remember when he was born 8 years and 9 months ago today. His life was as miraculous to me then as it is now. He is me and my husband and he is created in the image of our God. Astounding that flesh and blood are wrapped in the eternal image of God. What do I do with such a gift? Daily I ask that God would help me guide and teach his heart to reflect the heart of his Creator. Would God have given me a son if this request were not possible? As I consider the good and the bad influences of men - those here and now men, and men long ago... maybe that's not the question. Maybe I should be asking would God have placed this desire on my heart if it were not His desire? Oh how true is His Word! "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4 May this word to us - bless our children always and be their blessing to live out as well for their children.

He is eight today, and so I am reflective on - not just his beginning - his life in ours since then - but also the still small moments I have touched him, taught him, and held his heart with mine. Love such love, such powerful love in a mother's heart. Do I fully express this love? Is that the question? No. That is not the question. How do I express this love? THAT is indeed what I must consider....every single day, and sometimes one breath given and one held back at a time.

My favorite love story begins with a boy, His Father, and His mother. In the story it is the mother who invokes love in the child's heart. And it is His Father who teaches Him love's responsibility. He learned well, and He loved well, because He was loved and taught so well.

Oh that God would bless our story. No. Again I've misspoken. Oh how God HAS blessed our story! ALL of us! He has indeed given us much to know - and learn - and share of His love.

"For the Lord is good and His love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations." Psalm 100:3

I prayed this verse for my son this morning. And when I finished my eyes were lead to Psalm 101, so that I would know what Jesus has prayed for - and also died for - this boy to know and live. Let me share it with you here. I am overwhelmed again as I type each word that comes to life before my eyes - and hoping in this image of Jesus through David's Psalm for my own son.

Psalm 100
I will sing of your love and justice;
to you, Lord, I will sing praise.
I will be careful to lead a blameless life -
when will you come to me?

I will conduct the affairs of my house with a blameless heart.
I will not look with approval on anything that is vile.

I hate what faithless people do;
I will have no part in it.
The perverse of heart shall be far from me;
I will have nothing to do with what is evil.

Whoever slanders their neighbor in secret,
I will put to silence;
Whoever has haughty eyes and a proud heart,
I will not endure.

My eyes will be on the faithful in the land,
that they may dwell with me;
those whose walk is blameless
will minister to me.

No one who practices deceit will dwell in my house;
no one who speaks falsely
will stand in my presence.

Every morning I will put to silence
all the wicked in the land;
I will cut off every evildoer
from the city of the Lord.



And so I joined Him in this prayer, and thanked Him through tears that He will grow us in His love - together. It is His will - His good and perfect will. And His will is secure.

How DEEPLY profound and intimate is the love of our God. Oh how I pray you know this love! Seek Him at His Word. He will speak to you in a way that no one else ever could. Eye to eye - heart to heart - in the delicate place you hold on to hope; yes, yes dear reader, He is really there...loving you. right now.

mean mommy.

I don't give my children many choices. Really. I'm serious. I know. I'm mean; well at least some may call that mean. I don't. I call it great - intentional love. Sometimes they do have choices. If you were here day in and out - you'd hear them choose from time to time - yes...when it's a light issue of sorts like...well, I can't think of any right now...but it happens once in awhile. And - some may argue with me that perhaps when they're 18 and they leave this house and have to actually choose for themselves what they'll eat, drink, how they'll dress, and what their day will indeed hold - maybe they'll be stymied...but, really? think about it for a moment with me... SERIOUSLY...Because from my own life - my own strict mama and daddy -I don't think so. I chose and chose a thousand times without hesitation of wondering how to...Because it is always in us to want to choose - and to make a choice - especially - ESPECIALLY - for ourselves...Now for others??? well...hmmm. Not so much. Free will is innate. Submission is not. No one has to be taught to seek their own good. We do have to be taught self-discipline and to consider our choices for the sake of others.

So even though I may be a mean mommy to some in this respect, I will still dare say, that someday - SOMEBODY - might thank me when we are invited over for lunch and my children eat everything prepared, or when my son marries someone's daughter and he eats what she prepares without criticism. But let's just say that does not ever happen (i need to remind myself that validation is not the point) - and let's say no one else - not even my children in all of their wanderings in the world of different cuisines and cultures - experiences galore of choosing and having no choice, of comfortable and uncomfortable situations...where they may or may not realize the words I have told them since they learned to hold a spoon... I will still be satisfied, because I have taught them one thing consistent with the whole Word of God - Are you ready for those words??? Your life is not about what you like - but about what is good for you. And the kicker - that I pray they see with all their heart, and mind, and body -... God will work all things together for our good. Even if we hate it.

Thank you, Jesus. Moses. Abraham. Esther. Job. Joseph. Mary. Rahab. Joshua. Jonathan. Noah. Paul. Matthew. Mark. Luke. John. Ruth. Naomi.... should I go on? Because I know more - many, many more; my family members included....and maybe some of yours as I think of people I get to know and love...maybe you.

This life is not about always getting what we like. But somehow - SOME amazing WAY - TRUTH and LIFE - how...God makes it good. So very, very good.

Diary entry from 10.15.94

October 15, 1994

If I were going to write a book about this...first of all - who would read it? But - nonetheless - if I were going to pen it for me - or anyone interested in the twisted workings of my youth - I would have to start out by saying: All three of them were bar tenders. Seemed kind of funny since I never really did know how to handle myself at a bar. Is that funny - or ironic - or just plain sad?

Every time the trap is set I walk right in. I know the way it works; I've been in it before - tasted the bait - allowed myself to be poisoned by it, allowed a part of me to die in it. Then I've struggled to be free of it and once I actually was free ...SNAP - there I was again. I cannot reveal their names - for they are innocent. I am not their accuser. I am not their victim - I am one that gave them permission. I am amazed how easily I am snared. It's as if I am being hunted - and I know it - and I like it! My hunter knows me - and this is the best part. He knows my weaknesses - how to keep me in the darkness barely alive. I'm there.

It's so funny to me. Yet I cannot laugh. I have no laughter here.

My God - is this a hunt? Do you see me? Are you with me? Is it you? So predictable are my own moves that my hunter knows where to place a trap and what kind of bait to use. How can I survive?

There is a part of me that longs for a part of him. Never the whole - just a part. Promises - promises all of the promises. I never did get to jet ski again. To me that was his greatest gift. the feeling of riding on top of the water, overcoming my fear, the warmth of the sun on my face, him riding way ahead of me - showing me the way. I looked towards the tiny shoreline and wished I could see my father standing there. "Look at me, Daddy. I can be happy again. I still feel life. There is life again."

My God, he gave me a memory and I will cherish him always for that - that and the many others that littered our three year relationship.

Remember the one who told me I was adorable. How long has it been since someone has said that I was adorable, Daddy? If I could hear those words again. He said it like a script. My, my, my, the hunter knows me well. I'm on to you... aren't I? It's taken me a couple turns, but I think I'm on to you now.

Diary Entry 10.3.94

October 10, 1994

I embraced my sorrow; I held it tightly with all my strength and it engulfed me. We cradled each other until morning and I awoke more aware of life.

I am haunted by ghosts that tip toe through the attic of my memory. The three of us are in the back seat. silent. Dressed in Sunday best. My father drives as if called onward by the chiming bells. Even the sweetness of amazing grace chimes cannot compete with even the echo of their hollering. My mother's head is bowed and she sniffles quietly. Playing once again the Sunday song of getting to the church for what...

Driven far - some 15 years far - from that white Plymouth car, I'm in the front seat of a white truck, and I drive alongside with him to church - no chiming bells play onward - yet the music from my childhood Sunday song comes to life - yelling and tears - but this time no back seat little ears. Getting to the church for what? - And I feel the strength of the arm...the arm that I watched come around my mother's neck to pull her toward him in apology - and I realize - she was exhausted of trying - and yet so hopeful. So I slide over and succumb to the same reason why she never left.

Diary Entry 8/94

from my diary: April 1994 - April 1997

A tender memory never loses its flavor and smells sweeter every time it is inhaled.

So? Where do I begin? The beginning would be nice, but I'm not quite sure where that would be. So many little ingredients got thrown into this stew it's hard to say what went in first...and if there was even a moment when I decided - when someone decided what was going to be made.

I'd have to begin with my childhood because it's my favorite flavor. I could chew on moments of it all day long. And from time to time I wander through the kitchen and find myself rummaging through the cupboards looking for a moment to savor once again.

I never knew we were poor until my mother said that we were some years after we had struggled through hand-me-downs and patch 'em ups.

One particular Christmas Mom ad Dad were having a party. I could hear the music from my bedroom where I rested on my pillow wide awake. I could catch a glimpse of people dancing in their fancy holiday clothes. I imagined myself to be a beautiful princess who would walk into their midst and inspire them all with my graceful dancing. Daddy came in just then and kissed my forehead and asked if I was alright. I remember thinking that he left the party just to see if I was okay. He left the dancing for me.