Honeymoon Phase

My hubby and I recently celebrated 4 years married, the honeymoon phase is long gone, but (most of the time) we enjoy spending time together, that is when we carve out the time to do so. But with any extended relationship, comes changes to its dynamic, comfort level, effort involved; it's what doesn't change that's key.

Earlier in the summer, the two of us got away for the weekend. Away from the busyness of three little ones, the noise of  media, and all of the distractions that follow us around. One night, we sat outside on a bench and watched the sun set over the Chesapeake Bay. As we enjoyed the stillness, we couldn't help but to watch a young couple walk down to the dock together and adorably take a seat, feet hanging over, side-by-side. As the girl leaned back onto her hands and innocently swayed her feet over the water, her fancy flats flew out into the bay. She laughed in embarrassment and with little hesitation, her guy stripped off his polo and jumped right in to the unknowing depths of the bay, paddling out in search of her shoes.
Doug and I enjoyed our entertainment and both agreed out loud, "No way they're married!" He confessed if it was us, 4 years in, he would have just counted the shoes a loss. He did admit it may have been different say 5 years ago.

In the beginning of any relationship, there is so much to talk about, so much to learn, so much to look forward to. Everything seems so new and exciting. An eagerness to see, hear, hold, give. A wanting to do anything for them, being alert to any opportunity to serve them, prove your affection to them.

Several years in, you may feel like you already have heard all there is to hear, with not much left to learn, wondering if the best has come and gone. Things become routine, habitual. Eagerness turns to expectedness and where's the desire to prove something that's already being proclaimed?

I'm not saying that the hubby and I are there, there are mundane moments for sure, but if we didn't put time aside, to talk, to pray, to hold one other, to watch sunsets, to simply enjoy, I'm sure we would be. Stuck there, not knowing how to get back to the initial infatuation and excitement.

And this relational dynamic is just the same with my Heavenly Father, Savior, Best Friend. It's been years now, a decade maybe, going from knowing nothing, to wanting to know everything, to feeling sometimes like I've now heard it all, again and again. What's new? What's left? What's to look forward to? Going from full surrender of how can I serve you, to what do I have time for? What am I comfortable with?

But just like a husband and wife, we should never allow ourselves to get stuck there. It's an unproductive, destructive place to remain. The cure for my husband and I is time away to enjoy, rekindle, remember... the same for God and I.

There is much left to know about my husband, even more left to realize about my God. I want to be filled with joy each time my husband returns home, I want to overflow with joy each time I return Home. I want to serve, because I love and because I am loved. Because of a promise I made. I want to remain excited, with each date, with each time I open my Word. So much to look forward to, more than I can comprehend.

I want weeks, seasons, years, generations to pass, and to find myself willing and wanting. Willing to jump in, clothes and all, swimming, searching, serving. And while I know all relationships change as people do, I need most to remain grateful. Unchanging gratitude, an attitude which has the ability to keep any relationship new.

Then we your people, the sheep of your pasture,

    will thank you forever and ever,

    praising your greatness from generation to generation. 

   ~Psalm 79:13

Humility and the Harvest

"Yes! I did it, I did it!" I shouted at the first sight of little tomatoes on plants I had started from seed months ago. I felt so accomplished with an actual visual result of my hard work, something which can be hard to spot in the child-rearing industry. My 6-year-old caught me in my celebratory dance from across the yard and came walking over with a hand-on-the-hip, side-smirk in-tact, ready to dish out some truth.

"Mommm," she said with a slight roll of the eyes, "you didn't really do anything. God did."

She then explained to me I may have planted some seeds and added some water (when I remembered to), but asked me if I was the one to tell it to grow? I actually tried to defend my work trying to get a little more credit on my behalf, but she just looked back at me over the tops of her eyes as if to say "Come on, Mom" and all I could eventually do was laugh in humility. 

Now, later in the season and with a harvest this spoiled suburban gal didn't think was possible, I need to keep reminding myself of that simple correction from my daughter. Remembering that it's not about my doing, it's about God's doing, and in the moments I start taking credit when it's due to Him or try intervening my way where I know He has it handled, I need to take a big step back and remember, I really didn't do anything, and more importantly, I don't need to. Maybe God has a few seeds for me to plant here and there, maybe a little extra water and care can come from me, and I need to be ready for that, but when it comes to growth, when it comes to movement, when it comes to action, that may all be beyond me, and that is good!

When I put those seeds in the ground, I had to trust. Trust they would sprout. Trust they would grow. Trust they would produce something! (Btw, I'm in over my head with tomatoes at the moment!) But the main activity on my part that was required throughout that whole process was trust. 

I'm writing and sharing this to myself, perhaps to you too, reflecting on where I'm attempting to take control and credit over something that is His. Exhausting myself trying to tell something to grow when I've never had the power to do that anyway. Trust Him, trust His time, trust His ability, trust His heart. There is a harvest on the way, but it has little to do with me, and much to do with Him.

...In simple humility, let our gardener, God, landscape you with the Word, making a salvation-garden of your life." ~James 1:21