Because sometimes, it's just time to move on:
http://liveinhislight.wordpress.com/
to the future.
To my future husband.
Dear you,
I was never the girl in grade school, high school, or college that dreamt about her wedding. The idea of getting married was always something I wanted, but never something I really “thought” about. Or better yet, I wasn’t one of those girls who wanted to be married right out of college. I think in part, I was rather envious of those girls. They knew what they wanted – and who. I did not.
I am going to skip all the testimonial "details" and cut right to it.
I am a sinner just like you.
But I am also an overcomer just like you.
I have had my heart broken more times than I’d like to admit. Especially by men. No, I have not been in many relationships, but all it takes is a few men – whether it be a father or boyfriend – to crush a woman’s heart. Miraculously so, I am not jaded. In fact, quite the opposite. I still believe in the kind of love that never fails. The kind Paul talks about. I know it’s real. I know it’s alive. I know it because I’ve experienced it. Love is what has brought me here. Love is what never gave up on me; that thing (Him) that I woke up to every morning “I’m not leaving you. I’m here. We’re going to get through this. There is a harvest up ahead. There is Sonshine up ahead. Trust me. I’m going to heal you. I’m going to cover you in freedom so thick you won’t know what to do with yourself.” So I believed. Over and over again. I recited his Truth, I memorized it, I bathed in it. I held him to his promises. And then he taught me how to have a voice again; he showed me that I could come out from that corner I had hidden in so long and live fearlessly. And so, I began to study the Proverbs 31 woman. I prayed over it, read it constantly, and asked that he make me a woman of character. The kind of woman my husband would be proud of. The kind he could depend on.
I am still learning. And the learning will continue. But I'll tell you this much: the hunger inside my heart for more of God is not something I will ever compromise. And because I have not and am not willing to compromise it, I think my ring-less wedding finger has concerned my parents a few times! For better or worse, I just can't settle. I know God has hand-picked you for me, in his perfect timing, and in all his glorious nature.
All the while – those years of accelerated growth in my mid-twenties – it was preparing me for you. I imagine he was doing the same with you. Of course, it was preparing me for many other things as well. But I know now more than ever, that what he did in me those years needed to make me into the type of person who could love you the way you need and deserve to be loved. He knew my heart better than I did. He knew that I would not be okay with loving you from a shallow place. He knew that I would not be okay with loving you from an unhealed, chained heart. He knew that deep down I desired to love you with all the freedom a woman can offer, who speaks truth even when it’s hard, gives grace even when it hurts, and wants to love you more – and better – every day. He knew that I would need to have a heart with the strength to be vulnerable, softened, and gentle toward you. He knew that I would need a deep-seeded peace for our trials as a couple and a spontaneous Joy that abided in his goodness. He knew that I would need a man marked by his character. His conviction not to swerve and toy with the things of this world. He knew I would need a man that could swim upstream. And such a man does not develop that character and love for Jesus unless he has been through struggles and trials of his own.
So for that, I want to say thank you. Thank you for being the man you are. Thank you for not giving up when it got hard. Thank you for believing in him when all your feelings pointed otherwise. Thank you for your laughter, your passions, and your dreams. Thank you for not trying to be anyone other than the man God has called you to be. Thank you for seeking him, loving him, and learning about him. Thank you for following through on all your pain and all your struggles and not wasting any of it. It has made you a man of perseverance and a man of hope. It is so crazy to even try and comprehend what God does with trials – how he turns them for our good, how they make us into someone, how they teach us to love harder, live deeper, and reach higher. Even more, they instill this depth of gratitude that some will ever understand. And that’s okay, but I’m just glad you understand. Finally, I know a man who understands.
Love binds everything together in perfect unity. To the degree I appreciate you, you may never fully comprehend. I respect who you are and what you’re called to, even when you mess up, fail or fall short. Even when we bug one another, annoy one another, hurt one another, or let one another down, I know that our battle is not against each other; I am for you and you are for me - we are for one another. I will fight for that with everything in me. I will be your biggest fan and apart from God, your greatest advocate. I have seen, I have tasted, and I have experienced the love of our God too much to be anything less than these things as your wife.
I’m a sinner and I’m imperfect for certain; I will never figure it all out and I’m not even going to try to. I just want to love and glorify God in all I do. I want our marriage to do what marriages are supposed to do: point to our King and Glorify him. I’m so thankful he gave me you to do it with. I'm so thankful he led us here. As a writer, it's a story I never could have written. He is the Author and Creator of every good thing. And you... you are a very good thing.
life's too short.
life's too short.
too fragile.
make the call.
forgive.
love. say it out loud.
surrender.
let it go.
the bitterness.
the hurt.
the unfairness.
the "But I... I..."
Death comes to all of us.
It just does.
And in the end,
It's just you and Him.
Not your stuff.
Your things.
You friends.
Your family.
Just you
Your heart
And Him.
Who will you be then.
And how...
How are you going to live your life now
With frustration, disappointment, and "it's not fair"
and "I'll do it my way" and "It's too hard"
Or
With a conquering spirit.
A warrior's heart.
A mind, a body, a soul
Fitted with Truth.
Sured up with courage.
Sustained by Grace.
Bounded and united by Love.
Who will you be then
Who are you now
Who do you desire to be
Tomorrow isn't guaranteed
Neither is your next hour
For you
For me
For any of us
Life is too short.
Too fragile.
To hold on, imprisoned by the things
That slowly rot us
And blacken our hearts.
May we surrender all that we hold so dear
All those things that are not ours
Whether they be possessions,
self righteousness
our pride,
our relationships
our selfish gain
our need to succeed
our past hurts
May we lay it all down
Let it go
And remember that life is far too precious
To spend any time
On the things that slowly kill us
From the inside out
too fragile.
make the call.
forgive.
love. say it out loud.
surrender.
let it go.
the bitterness.
the hurt.
the unfairness.
the "But I... I..."
Death comes to all of us.
It just does.
And in the end,
It's just you and Him.
Not your stuff.
Your things.
You friends.
Your family.
Just you
Your heart
And Him.
Who will you be then.
And how...
How are you going to live your life now
With frustration, disappointment, and "it's not fair"
and "I'll do it my way" and "It's too hard"
Or
With a conquering spirit.
A warrior's heart.
A mind, a body, a soul
Fitted with Truth.
Sured up with courage.
Sustained by Grace.
Bounded and united by Love.
Who will you be then
Who are you now
Who do you desire to be
Tomorrow isn't guaranteed
Neither is your next hour
For you
For me
For any of us
Life is too short.
Too fragile.
To hold on, imprisoned by the things
That slowly rot us
And blacken our hearts.
May we surrender all that we hold so dear
All those things that are not ours
Whether they be possessions,
self righteousness
our pride,
our relationships
our selfish gain
our need to succeed
our past hurts
May we lay it all down
Let it go
And remember that life is far too precious
To spend any time
On the things that slowly kill us
From the inside out
Dear Sister, You're not the only one.
Dear Sister,
You’re not the only one sitting in this row of chairs with a heavy heart. You’re not the only one who struggles with body image and her beauty and her identity and what she’s worth. You’re not the only one who feels like a less than; like maybe she doesn’t belong here; like maybe her sin isolates her, causing her to feel alone. Lonely. You’re not the only one who wants to walk out the back door, hide in the last row, and cry out, scream out, “is this really all there is?”
I see you sit there – crying on the inside, smiling on the outside – trying to look like the rest of us who feel the pressure to hold it all together. As you sit there with your bleeding heart and blood on your hands, wondering why you came this morning, to sing words to songs you don’t honestly mean, wondering how the rest of us could mean them - truly mean them. You’re not the only one who feels like a mess sometimes – maybe most of the time. Out of order, out of sorts, disfigured circumstances, crying out “What am I doing with my life?” You’re not the only one who compares herself to the prettier girl with the better clothes, the handsome man, and the seemingly perfect kids. You’re not the only one who sometimes feels less than because she’s single – like all your friends have moved on and there’s no room for you in their new life. You're not the only one, unable to have the children you want so desperately, feeling the anger toward God rise up in the core of your being, shaking your fist at the Heavens, knowing so many young women abort theirs and you, well... you'd give anything. You’re not the only one who battles her family mess of relational dysfunction and years of hurt. You’re not the only one who’s been betrayed or cast aside, misunderstood and accused of a wrong you never did. You’re not the only one who got left; who endured that loss, that powerless feeling of having no choice but to say goodbye.
You’re not the only one who wonders if she’s loved in the middle of how screwed-up and lost and confused and fallen apart she feels.
I see you across the aisle there, wiping the tears from your face and hiding the blood on your hands, doing all you can to hide who you really are and what you’re really battling.
You’re not the only one who doubts if he’s out there, if he even exists, and cries out to God why he hasn’t brought him yet. You’re not the only one who fights depression, anxiety, fear or an eating disorder.
You're not the only one.
I want you to know that I see you. Not the skin-deep you, but the soul-deep you.
I see a heart.
A heart building strength out of your weakness.
Because, my sister, when you are weak then he is strong.
So be weak. And be Loved. It’s going to be okay.
Pour out your bleeding heart onto the altar before you. Let it flood. I’ll walk up there with you. I’ll hold your hand. I won't leave. It’s alright– I don’t mind your blood on me. I’ll clean it up behind you. I’ll wash it from your hands and wipe your tears with fresh, pure water. I’ll hold your hair back as tears stain your face – as you stay there, on your knees – in a ball of surrender.
You’re not the only one who’s fallen apart. Who's heart has broke wide open by pain.
I want you to know it’s only a matter of time before joy replaces the sorrow.
Where confidence replaces the doubt.
Where love replaces the fear.
Where his grace sustains you to the point of floating.
He’s going to enlarge your heart, Beloved.
He’s going to stop the bleeding.
You're not the only one - I promise. You need the Body like the rest of us. So lean on us. Reach out to us. Cry out to us. Use us.
I'll give all that I have and all that I can.
Here is my hand.
Here is my shoulder.
Here is my heart, offered to help the beating of yours.
You’re not the only one.
I pray that brings comfort.
I pray that brings comfort.
You’re not the only one sitting in this row of chairs with a heavy heart. You’re not the only one who struggles with body image and her beauty and her identity and what she’s worth. You’re not the only one who feels like a less than; like maybe she doesn’t belong here; like maybe her sin isolates her, causing her to feel alone. Lonely. You’re not the only one who wants to walk out the back door, hide in the last row, and cry out, scream out, “is this really all there is?”
I see you sit there – crying on the inside, smiling on the outside – trying to look like the rest of us who feel the pressure to hold it all together. As you sit there with your bleeding heart and blood on your hands, wondering why you came this morning, to sing words to songs you don’t honestly mean, wondering how the rest of us could mean them - truly mean them. You’re not the only one who feels like a mess sometimes – maybe most of the time. Out of order, out of sorts, disfigured circumstances, crying out “What am I doing with my life?” You’re not the only one who compares herself to the prettier girl with the better clothes, the handsome man, and the seemingly perfect kids. You’re not the only one who sometimes feels less than because she’s single – like all your friends have moved on and there’s no room for you in their new life. You're not the only one, unable to have the children you want so desperately, feeling the anger toward God rise up in the core of your being, shaking your fist at the Heavens, knowing so many young women abort theirs and you, well... you'd give anything. You’re not the only one who battles her family mess of relational dysfunction and years of hurt. You’re not the only one who’s been betrayed or cast aside, misunderstood and accused of a wrong you never did. You’re not the only one who got left; who endured that loss, that powerless feeling of having no choice but to say goodbye.
You’re not the only one who wonders if she’s loved in the middle of how screwed-up and lost and confused and fallen apart she feels.
I see you across the aisle there, wiping the tears from your face and hiding the blood on your hands, doing all you can to hide who you really are and what you’re really battling.
You’re not the only one who doubts if he’s out there, if he even exists, and cries out to God why he hasn’t brought him yet. You’re not the only one who fights depression, anxiety, fear or an eating disorder.
You're not the only one.
I want you to know that I see you. Not the skin-deep you, but the soul-deep you.
I see a heart.
A heart building strength out of your weakness.
Because, my sister, when you are weak then he is strong.
So be weak. And be Loved. It’s going to be okay.
Pour out your bleeding heart onto the altar before you. Let it flood. I’ll walk up there with you. I’ll hold your hand. I won't leave. It’s alright– I don’t mind your blood on me. I’ll clean it up behind you. I’ll wash it from your hands and wipe your tears with fresh, pure water. I’ll hold your hair back as tears stain your face – as you stay there, on your knees – in a ball of surrender.
You’re not the only one who’s fallen apart. Who's heart has broke wide open by pain.
I want you to know it’s only a matter of time before joy replaces the sorrow.
Where confidence replaces the doubt.
Where love replaces the fear.
Where his grace sustains you to the point of floating.
He’s going to enlarge your heart, Beloved.
He’s going to stop the bleeding.
You're not the only one - I promise. You need the Body like the rest of us. So lean on us. Reach out to us. Cry out to us. Use us.
I'll give all that I have and all that I can.
Here is my hand.
Here is my shoulder.
Here is my heart, offered to help the beating of yours.
***we women need one another, don't we? I pray, and I pray, and I pray we would become the Body (of women) like we are called to. That we would stop kicking each other around. Hearts are bleeding everywhere. We can't pretend like that's not true. It's time we LOVE EACHOTHER instead of allowing pride, jealousy, vanity, and comparison to divide us.***
I Praise You.
Sometimes I get so overwhelmed by Who You Are.
I AM.
Not I was.
Or I will be.
But I AM.
Now. Present. In this moment. Right-this-very-second.
Selah.
Tears flood my eyes and threaten to puddle out the corners.
I lift my face to the sky to keep the salt water in,
Because I want to look toward You through the filter of tear stained eyes;
Tears of gratitude. Tears of awe.
I don't understand this kind of Love. Your Love.
It is just... beyond me.
All Glory.
All Honor.
All Praise to you.
In all the pain I have felt that so often made no sense. In all the wounds that left these scars.
I praise you.
In all my desert places. In all my mountain-top races.
I praise you.
In all this groaning for more of Heaven.
In all that has fallen,
As I stumble my way back to Eden.
I praise you.
In all this Joy that leads my feet to dancing
In all this Love and how you romance me
I praise you.
When I can't see you, when I don't hear you, when I don't feel you
I praise you.
In everything and with everything,
I praise you.
Hallelujah.
I AM.
Not I was.
Or I will be.
But I AM.
Now. Present. In this moment. Right-this-very-second.
Selah.
Tears flood my eyes and threaten to puddle out the corners.
I lift my face to the sky to keep the salt water in,
Because I want to look toward You through the filter of tear stained eyes;
Tears of gratitude. Tears of awe.
I don't understand this kind of Love. Your Love.
It is just... beyond me.
All Glory.
All Honor.
All Praise to you.
In all the pain I have felt that so often made no sense. In all the wounds that left these scars.
I praise you.
In all my desert places. In all my mountain-top races.
I praise you.
In all this groaning for more of Heaven.
In all that has fallen,
As I stumble my way back to Eden.
I praise you.
In all this Joy that leads my feet to dancing
In all this Love and how you romance me
I praise you.
When I can't see you, when I don't hear you, when I don't feel you
I praise you.
In everything and with everything,
I praise you.
Hallelujah.
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