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

Salt

Sometimes I really am searching for my lost shaker of salt... not for my margaritas, I'm out of that phase of life now. But honestly lacking in spiritual saltiness.

Jesus gave his disciples (myself included) the job title of "salt of the earth". (Matt 5:13) 

And Paul told the Colossian church to be sure their conversations were "seasoned with salt". (Col 4:6)

And so I've known salt to be a good thing, on fries and in life, but never really understood what exactly this spirtual salt stood for. So I did some research and looked into the uses of salt (call me a dork, it's cool)...what I found truly moved me, encouraged me, and convicted me to USE and BE salt.

4 Main Uses of Salt

• Enhances 
• Salt enhances the flavor of what already is; it brings out the best in something.
• Cleanses
• Salt lifts stains and dirt, removing residue and leaving it much cleaner than it was found. 
• Preserves 
• Salt preserves things in a state it is able to remain. 
• Heals
• Salt heals wounds and calms irritation. 

Let your words, actions, and entire being enhance, cleanse, preserve, and heal those around you. 

True salt. 

Jealous

I don't have much time... I'm sitting here typing one-handed with a baby on my lap and bottle in the other hand. I got two other munchkins riding anything with wheels down the front walkway with a side-smirk showing through because they know it's past bedtime. But I wanted to get this down, if just for myself, before my head hits the pillow seeming to erase the day's wisdom, etch-a-sketch style, gone.

I spent a good amount of time this morning replenishing a tree I've been turning into the local gathering place for the neighborhood birds. The tree tavern serves cardinals, jays, finches, woodpeckers, and hummingbirds... it certainly brings out the dork in me. But colorful visitors, especially while washing dishes (again) or during a particularly quiet naptime, brings variety and company right to my window.
I had restocked four feeders and added some fresh water; there was already a ton of activity and a hummingbird darting around me in anticipation with the nectar still in my hand.
But later, while my littlest ones were asleep, and I had a moment to stare and enjoy, there was nothing. Not one bird. And I was given a thought, a complete, uninterrupted thought:

If they know there is constant nourishment here, why would they even bother looking anywhere else? 

Oh, I actually said aloud.
Wow, is that me God? I do that too?
You too are constant. You are sustaining. You are abundant. You are never-ending. And yet I still look elsewhere sometimes. What else is out there? Is there something better, more convenient, tastier?
I've tasted and I've seen, so why ever leave, if even for a second, that Good, Life-giving Source.

"Then Jesus declared, 'I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.'" ~John 6:35

In that moment, I actually found myself jealous for these birds I've come to know, come back, come back, where did you go? I'm right here and ready to constantly feed you, fill you, enjoy you... but where are you?

"Do not worship any other god, for the Lord, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God." ~ Exodus 34:14

Oh.