For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands, for God gave us a spirit not of fear, but of power and love and self-control.
2 Timothy 1:6&7
The version Jim used said, “…kindle afresh the gift of God…” and that just really resonated with me. I let satan, time and time again, distract me and allow me to forget the progress I’ve made in my relationship with God. I’m so very glad that I write down these thoughts – so many times do I begin to fall away, to question my motivations and my faith, only to eventually remind myself (through God’s amazing planning) that I’ve struggled with the same thing before and grown from it. I feel like I go through different seasons in my relationship with the Lord: sometimes I feel so focused on God and in tune with the Holy Spirit; other times, I feel like I’m clinging to God’s word, trying hard to remember His promises and my joy. At the moment, I feel somewhere in between.
I included verse 7 (Jim only had the first part of 6), because that particular part kind of stepped on my toes. I often blame my humanity for becoming distracted, feeling inadequate, or whatever the case may be. And yes, satan does play on our humanity. BUT GOD GAVE US what we need to overcome it – power, love, and self-control. Ouch. I don’t have an excuse. The Holy Spirit is my power when I feel weak or inadequate. He is my love when I feel judgmental or haughty. He is my self-control when I face temptation. All these things are inside of me – why do I walk around acting all defeated by the world? I shouldn’t. I don’t have to. In the words of my hubby (he often says this jokingly when I do something stupid), I need to “DO BETTER.”
Y’all get a threefer tonight, because I have been poring over my bible devotions trying to find a particular one, and in the process found other ones that seemed to go hand in hand with it. In going over these, I’ve noticed that Jim has some favorite verses and passages that he keeps putting in front of us, and that I keep writing about like I’ve never read them in my whole life. It’s so funny [amazing] how the same passage speaks differently to me at different times. So, the first one is from November of last year, and the other two are both from March of this year:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22&23
Jim asked what our favorite verse is, if it has changed, and why? For several years now, I have absolutely loved this verse from Lamentations. Once I started realizing how much sin is in my life and how much God continues to forgive me, this verse is overwhelming and comforting at the same time.
I screw up. Every. Single. Day. I try to live as God has called me, but I ALWAYS mess it up. I am so thankful that every new morning is yet another chance, a do-over, to live for Him. I think over the last several years, I’ve become a morning person; not the roll-out-of-bed-with-a-smile-on-my-face kind of morning person, but I do appreciate the time so much more than I used to. I like the quietness of it [yeah, that changed… the sweet baby is up with me then in our current season of life], seeing the sun rise, sipping my coffee and spending time with God in His word. I feel like it’s just the calm reset I need before I take on the day. I think that’s a big reason this verse speaks to me so much now. [Like I said, we kind of roll out of bed into the day now, but I still do love mornings with my baby girl – even if she is screaming, “eat!” at me as we walk down the hallway.]
Of course, hubby gives me a hard time about my favorite verse being from from Lamentations: “of course it is,” he says. I kind of complain a lot and tend to dwell on the negative. Maybe I do like the fact that it’s from Lamentations; it’s a bit of hope in a pretty much otherwise dreary book.
I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.
Psalm 119:11
Jim challenged us to recall our favorite verse or passage, and think about how it keeps us from sinning. The awesome thing is, literally any verse could work if we really thought about it.
I’m pretty sure my very favorite verse is in Lamentations, of all books. 3:23 talks about the steadfast love of the Lord, and that His mercies are new every morning. This verse reminds me that even though I may have had a bad day yesterday, I may have been disobedient, and I definitely sinned, God still loves me, and I have another chance to do the right thing today. It gives me hope every day. As I dig further into God’s word, there are so very many verses and passages that i absolutely love. Also, the more immersed in them I am, the easier it is to recall them.
Let the wise hear and increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance, to understand a proverb and a saying, the words of the wise and their riddles.
Proverbs 1:5&6
Jim asked, how much bible can we stand? Do we read a couple of chapters and have to put it down? Do we read a verse here and there? I have a distinct memory from my teenage years where I’m sitting on my bed reading the bible. I had just heard about people who read the whole bible in a year, and thought that I would try. I started at the beginning, but remember becoming overwhelmed by the language (I had a New King James version.) Once I got to the pages and pages of “begets”, I was gone. I remember thinking at the time that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to read the bible anymore.
Flash forward to a couple of months ago when Jim used a passage about David for the daily devotion. I think I sat there for at least a good 45 minutes, totally immersed in 1 Samuel, reading all about David and Saul and trying to figure out who the heck Jonathan was – it was like a good book I couldn’t put down.
I still definitely have days where I just really don’t feel like reading God’s word, and it doesn’t speak to me (or so I think at the time.) When this happens, I usually try to write down something anyway, because on more than one occasion, my “uninspired” writing from one day will be exactly what I need to read another day. God definitely works through us even when we don’t think we feel like it.
I have made a more conscious effort to spend time in the word lately (even if it’s not my ideal time anymore. For example, right now it is 10:47 PM…) and I feel so much better because of it. The more I seek His wisdom and understanding, the more I enjoy being in the word, and the more I understand. Huh, imagine that… He gives us what we ask for.
Shew, sorry that was so long, guys. In my head, it made sense that all those went together, sorry if they seem random to everyone else. Also, I have SO MANY things I’ve written, so when I feel like I can post more than one at a time, I’ll probably do it. Aaaannnnd, stand by for my confession that I’ve not been great about going to God’s word the last couple of weeks. How ironic.
I’m back! After I started this thing with what felt like a marathon of posts, I’ve been semi-quiet in comparison over the last few weeks. Life has been an absolute rollercoaster, and as things calm down, I’m still processing everything. I’m still looking back and seeing new blessings and lessons every time I think about it. I’m still finding the words to say about it. In the meantime, I thought I’d revisit another old journal entry. This one is from April, and it made me think again this morning.
When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?
John 21:15
Oh, Peter. He had denied Jesus three times before the crucifixion, but he was the first disciple to believe that Jesus had risen. I seriously wonder how much of that faith was built on taking Jesus at His word, and how much was on pure guilt; he NEEDED to believe that Jesus was back, because he was guilty of sending Him to His death.
Jim asked how many times God asks us, “do you love me?” And how many times have we told Him, “no”? Of course I love God. But then I thought about that last part again… “more than these.” Do I love God more than the most important people to me? Do I put Him before my husband, my child, my friends and family? Not always. I’ve told Him, “no,” more often than I’d like to think. Jesus died for our sins, yet we still deny Him with our actions. We need to be more aware that every choice we make is a chance to answer “yes” or “no.”
Here’s the thing. Never, ever on this blog am I going to say, “you should do this,”or, “the [so many] things you absolutely have to do,” or anything like that. Iget really defensive when some random person who doesn’t know me tries to tell me that what works for them will work for me. You absolutely do not know that. (I’ve been told that not liking being put into groups is a millenial thing. I’m not fond of that label either…*) I’m not about that clickbait stuff, and I love you all too much to assume anything. That’s why, much to my dismay, you’ll see a lot of “I’s” in this thing. It’s not that I’m trying to be so incredibly self-centered (which I feel it can come across that way sometimes), but I’m simply telling you all what I’ve done, what works for me, what doesn’t work for me, my experiences, and what I’ve learned about myself. Never will I assume that something I’ve done will be the same for you.
With that being said, the ONLY time I will group us all together is when I’m talking about God’s truths. He made us all very different, that’s true, but He loves us all exactly the same and wants us all to be His.
I’m not sure why I felt the need to clarify this… maybe I was afraid you all were thinking that I was super self-absorbed or something. I’m just putting myself out there – my thoughts and experiences. If you can learn from my mistakes or feel solidarity in something I’m going though, that’s great, that’s exactly why I’ve been called to do this. If not, well, that’s okay too. Now you know more about me, and maybe have come away with a different perspective on something you might not have otherwise had. Either way, I’m striving to follow God’s will for my life.
*Random fact about me – when I was in college I thought I wanted a sociology minor, because my mom had one. Well, I took the intro class and absolutely hated it. I hated that there were all these groups you could seemingly arbitrarily put people into without knowing their specific situation. It really bothered me, I thought it was just way too assuming. The next semester I took intro to Psychology, and I was like, yes, this is better. I loved being able to focus on an individual and not having to force people into vague groups. I ended up almost double majoring in French (I know, useless if I’m not teaching) and Psychology, but the timing on classes I needed to do before graduation didn’t match up… and I was ready to get out of there. Sometimes I wonder what I could do if I went back and finished those three Psychology classes. I’m sure I’d need more schooling than that to really make a career in Psychology, but it drives me crazy to say, “I was three classes away from a Psychology degree.” C’est la vie, I suppose. (There, I used some French.)
This is a lengthy post I wrote in February about breastfeeding. This was just a couple weeks before we completely weaned. It may be TMI, but I wish I had read something this real when we were starting out. It didn’t come easily to me, and if I can help just one other woman decide to give it a little more time, then sharing my story is worth it.
Jealous cat often wanted in on the cuddle action.
We didn’t breastfeed today. She slept in, and I took the opportunity to go straight to breakfast. We had been doing just the one morning feeding for a month or so now, and that was already killing me. I’m so emotional. I’m happy, because I don’t have to plan my day around my boobs, and I can drink all the coffee I want again (finally!) But, this thing I wanted to do for my child, this sacrifice I made for her, is coming to an end. What I used to dread, I’m going to miss.
I didn’t worry too much about breastfeeding when I was pregnant. For one thing, I thought it was weird. I knew it would be best for my child, but a liquid coming from my boob just sounded so strange, and I didn’t really want to think about it. Secondly, it’s a natural thing, so I assumed it would just click.
Having her early threw me for a loop. I had eaten chili the night before my water broke… ya know, you’re not supposed to eat before a c-section… so when I got back into the room after having her, I was so sick from the anesthesia. They gave her to me and I held her, then they told me I needed to try to nurse. Poor [hubby] has the memory forever etched in his brain of me holding [baby girl] on one side, trying to get her to latch, and me puking into a barf bag on the other side. I was so so sick. And I was so so tired. We had barely slept, I had just had a tiny human cut out of of me, and I was exhausted from retching. I felt bad, but I was so selfish, I really did not want to try to nurse. The lactation consultant is telling me to make a sandwich with my breast? What? Can I sleep now please?
The next few days weren’t much better. [Baby girl] had interest in trying to nurse, but we weren’t doing so great. And no one told me how much breastfeeding HURTS. The lactation consultant kept telling me that the latch “looked good”, but also that it shouldn’t hurt if we were doing it right. Bull crap. It hurt so bad. Finally a nurse came in and asked how it was going one day, and I expressed concern about getting blood in the baby’s mouth, because my breasts were so incredibly cracked. She looked so sympathetic, called me honey, and asked if I had any lanolin. Lano-what? No…. she brought me a tiny tube, and at the moment I seriously thought it was the best thing ever invented. I’d read blogs and birth stories, talked to other people vaguely about breastfeeding, seen ads for “nipple cream”, but I was in no way prepared for why it was important to take care of your nipples. Ouch.
I felt so bad at the hospital and later when we got home, I dreaded feeding my poor baby girl so much. I would put it off as long as I possibly could. In the hospital, the nurses would come in and fuss at me for letting her go so long without eating. But, I was sleeping, she was sleeping… do I have to? At home, it wasn’t any better. I would have frequent emotional breakdowns from the guilt of not wanting to feed my child. For at least a couple of months, I really was miserable. It made it worse that she was so little, and the nurse practitioner we were seeing at the time wanted me to feed her even more often than I already was – every two hours. I don’t know how we got through that, neither of us got any sleep. She would take so long to nurse, I’d barely get 30 minutes of rest in before we had to start all over again. I was exhausted. The pain that accompanied those first few months was excruciating. I would get these sharp pains, like hot knives, radiate up my breasts frequently. I felt like I kept heat on them as often as I could, especially at night. Also, after I finished breastfeeding, I would get the worst chills. The first time it happened was at the hospital, and I thought I was coming off some of the strong medicine they had given me or something. I had violent shivers and just felt like I would never be warm again. That continued for a while after I got home, and I still do it from time to time. During this time of pain and dread of feeding my own child, I gave myself a goal of six months. If I could just last that long, that would be good. But, six months came and went, and I felt sort of proud of myself. We had made it that far, and didn’t show any signs of stopping.
Somewhere around 3 months, something happened. I’m not sure if it was because she grew and her mouth got bigger and she could finally latch better, or what, but it got better. We finally got to where we could nurse and I didn’t feel like I wanted to die. However, she still took FOREVER. It’s just been in the last 3-4 months that she really cut back. Our normal feeding sessions were always at least 30 minutes, most of the time more. We were at a funeral, and [hubby’s] cousin had her baby there as well. We both were in the nursery at church nursing, and I kid you not, her daughter ate like 5 minutes on each side and then they left. I was sitting there a little jealous and a lot in disbelief. Why does my kid take at least three times as long?!
Going back to work was kind of pointless because of how long it took her to eat. According to my app, her average was about 4 hours of eating time a day. And that was strictly mouth to nipple time, that didn’t count the burping and distractions in between. I had a full part-time job of just sitting. Isn’t that a ridiculous amount of time? I got literally nothing done. [I had a super distracted baby who would unlatch at the tiniest noise or movement, so multi-tasking was always out of the question.]
Of course, I would so do it all again in a heartbeat, misguided expectations and mental breakdowns included. We figured it out, created a bond that only could have come from breastfeeding, and I truly believe it was what was best for her. It was so hard, and so very painful, but now I’m going to miss it.
After I started writing this, the next day she threw a fit when she woke up until I went to the chair with her and nursed. I don’t think she’s quite ready to give it up yet, and frankly, I’m not either. I never would have thought that we’d still be doing this at 13 months. Pregnant me sure wouldn’t have believed it, because she thought a few months of that weirdness would be good enough. New mother me wouldn’t believe it either with all the pain she went through. But, here we are ❤
As I said, we only went a few more weeks after I wrote this. It’s still weird to me how much breastfeeding consumed my thoughts and my time, and now I never have to give it a second thought. As miserable as I was, and as strange as it sounds, I miss it. Being a woman is so weird sometimes.
Also, in case this needs to be said, I’m not suggesting anything I did or didn’t do is best for anyone else. I realize that I’m super fortunate to have a flexible job I can do mostly from home, and an amazing support system that picks up my slack. I’m simply telling my story in hopes that it encourages someone else!
I have a love-hate relationship with baking. Actually, no, I don’t – I love baking. What I hate is baking in my kitchen. With each move, our stuff has become increasingly more disorganized. Example: there are measuring cups in the drawer by the kitchen door… there are also measuring cups in the cabinet by the sink. Half of the stuff we don’t use every day is STILL packed up, like a year and a half after we moved here. We have a plan to renovate the kitchen, dining room, and den, so I keep telling myself there’s no point in putting everything away just to move it again soon. But, ugh, I get so frustrated. You couldn’t tell by looking at my house right now, but I really do get joy out of having a neat, tidy, clean house. Something about having everything in its place makes me feel more put together in other aspects of my life. But… for whatever reason (or excuse) I just haven’t made any of those things a priority the last few years. It’s circular, and I’m not sure what started first, but having a messy house makes me feel like a mess, which makes me not want to do anything, which makes everything more of a mess. I get so mad at myself when I finally walk by the table and put a piece of mail where it goes or put the dirty bib that’s been sitting on the chair for days in the laundry. It takes like two seconds, and the amount of relief I feel is tremendous. My husband and I both note all the time how much better and less stressed we feel when we simply clean off the coffee table. Our power went out briefly like three weeks ago, and the clock on my bedside table has been flashing ever since. What is wrong with me?
Back to my point… (because nothing is ever just what it is with me. A muffin is not just a muffin, there’s a big huge emotional ordeal that comes with it.) I had been putting off making these muffins for a week. I had the strawberries, and they were starting to get a little old. I HAD to use them or throw them away. I begrudgingly dragged myself in the kitchen, trying to remind myself how much I would enjoy the finished product and how I wanted to make these for myself and my family. As I was mixing everything, I felt exasperated at how long it was taking me because everything was all over the place. But, as I put them in the oven, I felt calm. I remembered that I really do enjoy baking. I enjoy putting just the right ingredients together to make something delicious, and I find the mixing and stirring relaxing. I like feeling as if I have accomplished something. I like the simplicity of the work and resulting outcome. I like preparing food for my family. I also find the end product pretty tasty 🙂
I get so frustrated with myself about things like this. Why can’t I remember my blessings? I have a wonderful home that has a kitchen in it. I have a kitchen with a full (albeit unorganized) pantry. I have legs that can carry me into my kitchen, and hands that can pull bowls and ingredients from the shelves. I have breath in my lungs. I have everything I need and so, so much more, and I complain. I complain that my house doesn’t look like a picture from a magazine. I complain that my body is tired from working to provide for my family and from taking care of baby girl. I complain because I’d rather sit on my butt and not have muffins than to get up and do the little bit of work it takes to make them. God has given me infinitely more than I deserve, and I complain.
I pray that He opens my eyes to see each and every aspect of my life, no matter how big or small, as the blessing it is.
Confession time: I have been in A FUNK the last few days. I haven’t felt good, I’ve been overly lazy even for me, I’ve had the worst self-esteem, and I’ve just felt blah. I’ve been looking for a previous bible devotion to put up here. I spent a good 30 minutes the other night poring over my own words, only to close my journal feeling discouraged and inadequate. Nothing seemed to be important enough, intelligent enough, or organized enough to present to other people. I was getting frustrated with myself, because a lot of the entries seemed to say the exact same thing. But, I realized, that was me identifying my struggle in whatever verse I happened to be reading that day; it was me clinging to God’s word for guidance through my battle. After another day to think about it, I think it’s important to share my (ongoing) struggle. I wrote this at the beginning of January:
Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.”
1 Peter 5:6&7
This devotion was from New Year’s Day, and I missed doing it. But man, I needed this verse this morning. I realized the other day that I was letting satan tell me that certain things in my life were too small or petty to bring to God. I let him tell me that God was too big to be concerned with baby girl’s nap schedule or the piles of dishes and laundry that need to be done. I let him whisper to me that it was all up to me, that I have to get this done on my own, and that I’m not good enough [there’s that, again.]
When I came to this realization the other day, I prayed for forgiveness and for God to remind me to bring EVERYTHING to Him. A few days later, and what am I doing? I couldn’t sleep last night and was literally having a panic attack. Over what? Planning my one year old’s birthday party, mostly. I was also stressing over stuff I have to do today (long story for another day.) I finally got to sleep after midnight and then some little peanut woke up whining at 4:30. I was unreasonably angry, and then immediately felt so very guilty. After eating and going back to sleep for a couple of hours, she woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and I think, so did I! Between several minor inconveniences (i.e. I dropped my muffin in the floor) and a baby who has cried all morning, I’m so nervous and anxious that I’m shaking. Enter this passage from 1 Peter – just the reminder i had prayed for…
…baby girl woke up as I was writing yesterday and I didn’t finish. Looking back on yesterday, it got better. That 25 minute morning nap made a world of difference, and then the two and a half hour afternoon nap was exactly what she and I both needed. She got some much-needed rest, and I was able to get some work done, which made me feel like a more productive member of the family.
I honestly don’t know why I let satan tell me that certain things have to be done on my own, that they aren’t big enough or important enough to matter to the Creator who knows my every insecurity. But He does care, and He wants to carry my burdens. I have to stop listening to the whisper that tells me I don’t matter and my problems don’t matter. God cares about me and for me. In reality, my worries and anxieties are just there to distract me from God and the purpose He’s given me. God definitely wants to clear my mind of all that stuff. I need more room in there for Him and His will.
Living intentionally is something I’ve always struggled with – I’m so good at skating by with minimal effort. My word for this year is FOCUS. It doesn’t come easily to me anymore, and I’ve got to do better. I’ve got to live more intentionally, with a clear focus on God.
So, we’re nearly halfway through the year, and focus is still something I’m struggling with. A funny thing happened as I was reading my journal entries from earlier this year the other night, the same word kept popping up over and over again; if I didn’t use it every time, it sure was close to it. You know what that word was? Distraction. No matter what verse I was writing about, I somehow just kept relating it back to how satan distracts us, how we have to focus on God.
Life has changed so much since we’ve had baby girl, and I feel like I’m juggling so much. Before, all I had to worry about was me, and what I had going on – being a wife, doing my part of cooking, cleaning, etc.; working, doing Avon… that was about it. On top of all that now, I’m also a mom and have a child to worry about and everything that entails (worries and concerns included), plus, I’ve started this blog. I feel like I’m being pulled so many different directions every minute of every day. I have so many distractions. Besides praying, I’m not sure what else I can be doing to help myself with this struggle. I just keep praying for God to show me these things that are distracting me, and to make me able to see them for what they are. Obviously, looking at all these journal entries where I just keep using the word, “distraction,” I’m starting to see them. But noticing them after reflection is entirely different than noticing them in the moment. I’m doing better, but I’ve still got some work to do.
Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.
Colossians 2:6&7
This is pretty simple and straightforward: I received Christ? I need to live like it! It’s so much harder to actually do; satan is constantly distracting us, telling us that something else is more important, and telling us we’re not good enough.
I feel like it’s telling us here that everything is rooted in our thankfulness. When we see God’s blessings for what they are, our whole perspective changes; what once was a burden or inconvenience is now an opportunity to grow, and what once was something pleasurable we kept to ourselves becomes an abundance we can share with others. It is so much easier to rise above satan’s attacks when we look at life this way.
I originally wrote these words in October of last year, but I easily could have written them today. What was I just saying about how it’s hard to accept grace because of satan persistently reminding us of our past? Also, I can’t be the only one who is constantly reminded that they’re not good enough… that’s pretty much satan’s daily narrative in my ear. The thing I have to remember is – no one is good enough. We ALL fall short of the glory of God. That’s exactly why we need Jesus. I pray that I can cling to His mercies, even become confident in them, the next time satan inevitably whispers those words to me again.
Sometimes, I have the best intentions but, I don’t get to my bible time like I plan. Life gets in the way, and although there’s really no excuse for not making time for God, it happens. On those days, however, I have to remind myself that even though I’m not in the Word, I still have small moments throughout the day where I’m focusing on God. Most days that I miss my devotion, it’s because I have to go somewhere, so I’m usually in the car at some point. And let me tell you about the mini worship sessions I have in the car… they’re pretty great. I love cranking up my favorite worship songs and just belting out with all I have to God. [More on my absolute love of music later.] I was having one of these earlier today (baby girl was giving me some serious side eye from the back seat), and a song that I love and have heard a thousand times came on, and really got me thinking. Needtobreathe has some of the best worship music, in my opinion. It’s not traditional worship music, for sure, but their lyrics are just the best. This is from their song “A Place Only You Can Go”:
We were born to love And we’re born to pay The price for our mistakes Grace, she comes with a heavy load Memories, they can’t be erased Like a pill I swallow, he makes me well And leaves an awful taste
I’ve always loved these lyrics, but something just hit me hard in the gut when I heard them today. I think so many of us Christians know that Jesus died for us, that we have accepted that, and that we are saved. But, we’re human. Our past doesn’t seem to go away. Our memories are still there. God actually removes our sin as far as the east is from the west, and doesn’t think on it for another second. We’re not God. Although we know what He’s done, it’s bittersweet, because we can’t forget what we’ve done. We’re given supernatural forgiveness that our human minds can’t even begin to comprehend. It’s exactly why we need the Holy Spirit. I think that’s why so many of us have trouble “living like” we’re saved. Satan likes to give us constant reminders of what we needed saving from, and we tend to fall into that same hole all over again. Does that even make any sense? Probably not.
I’m so thankful for God’s grace, but it is hard to swallow sometimes. It’s hard (for me anyway) to get over myself, to give myself a break, cut myself some slack. I make grace such a difficult thing, when it should be the easiest thing in the world.
Baby girl’s middle name is Grace. We needed a good, one-syllable name, and kept coming back to it. I know, everyone and their granddaughter has the same middle name… I knew it wasn’t uncommon, but apparently it’s super common. Anyway, after all we had been through with the miscarriage, Grace just seemed fitting. God has given us such grace through our difficulty, and has blessed us with our daughter. I pray that I always remember this when I look at my sweet girl’s smile.
I was perusing my old Livejournal again and came across this gem. Naivety aside, it tells the story of the beginning of my husband and I, and I’m quite fond of it. Get ready for some wisdom from early twenties me:
“Um. Wow. Life is crazy. I have been married to my best friend for almost four months now.. It feels more like four years. I swear I don’t remember life before [hubby] <3. So the other night I randomly got on to Livejournal and started reading some old entries from when [hubby] and I were dating. I burst into tears and had a breakdown that lasted the whole night. Partly, I blame it on the PMS I was experiencing, but there was also some truth to why I was so upset. As I was reading, I realized that I had fallen into a spiritual and emotional rut. For a while, I was so hopeful, so optimistic, and so in tune with God. Lately, I feel like I am the opposite of all those things. I have decided to fix this, with God’s help of course. I have re-learned recently that when you try to do things without God’s help, and without the help of people around you, you can quickly slide backwards.I talked to [hubby] about this, and told him something about us that I guess he never knew: That I use how our relationship started as my personal testimony. Everything about how we started dating was God-breathed, and it was the most sure I had ever been about anything in my life. I use this when I am telling people about how I became closer to God. He led me to [my husband], he and I both had prayed for (unknowingly) each other, and God made me realize that things really do work out when you surrender all your thoughts and fears to Him. I was so angry and bitter at the ripe old age of 19, because everyone else had, what I thought was, everlasting love. I felt like an old maid, and I hated the world for it. People kept telling me, “give it to God, He knows what is best for you.” And all the while, I kept saying, “I know,” but I never really, truly gave it all to God. One night, in a moment of sheer clarity, I got on my knees, sobbing, and said, “Lord, I don’t want this anymore, take it! Do what You will with it, I am done!” I instantly felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and I had no intention of thinking anymore about it. As it happens, however, it was like God said, “FINALLY!” The very next day, [hubby] and I struck up a conversation on the internet, after we had not talked in over a year. We became good friends, and well, you know the rest. How could that obvious display of God’s power not move me? Anyway, this entry is my attempt, once again, to try to focus my thoughts every now and again. I am not going to commit to writing every day, because I know from experience that just won’t happen. My more modest goal is to write as often as I feel like it, perhaps two or three times a week. I will make lists of what I am grateful for, and I will give any concerns straight to God, for he definitely knows best. So, here goes nothing, My umpteenth attempt at writing in my journal regularly.”
Taken right around when this journal entry was made. Fairfield Glade, TN
For any interested parties, I still didn’t write in my journal regularly after that… there’s a line to that effect in almost every entry on there. And, can you believe we had been married FOUR WHOLE MONTHS? Oh goodness, younger me, you’re cute. Dramatics aside, I am still constantly in awe of how obvious it is that hubby and I were made to be together. God has the best plans. Also, I realize how ridiculous I sound, you don’t have to tell me.
coffeemamabogie 