In other news, it appears that - as long as you repackage it in a dark gray container - you can market anything to men.
Debuting next month: Old Spice Pantyliners for Men
Somedays…
…it’s just easier to turn off the light and pretend it never happened.
Elegant Brodiaea by RogueMD on Flickr.
Another positively stunning flower photo from today. This one is from Dennis (@RogueMD) a talented photographer from here in Southern Oregon. I love how complimentary this and the previous shot from @colemama are.
Both amazing captures.
Brokenness Aside
NOTE: I wrote a post recently about how God was speaking to me through a song by the worship group All Sons and Daughters. While I don’t want to make this blog just a curated collection of media, there are times when a song or a video or a book can be the catalyst that God uses to cause me to reflect on His moving in my life.
Eating breakfast this morning, I hit shuffle on a Spotify worship music playlist a friend of mine created and others (including myself) have added to. About three songs in, Brokenness Aside started and it pulled me away from my eggs and coffee and grabbed my attention. Honestly, I couldn’t immediately place the song even though I’d been the one to add it to the playlist. I just knew that the lyric was powerful and spoke to where I am today.
Will your grace run out
If I let you down
‘Cause all I know
Is how to run
I’m a runner.
Not in the healthy sense of pounding pavement and trail with the soles of my shoes. I’m a runner who tries to avoid conflict and hide behind the smoke and mirrors of other things. It’s easier much of the time to look to the side of how broken I am and how corrupt I have the potential of being than to gaze directly at it. It is consoling to assure myself that, although I’m certainly not perfect, I’m definitely not as heinous as him or as sinful as that. The basic reality of my flesh doesn’t change, however, despite my weak attempts to duck it.
‘Cause I am a sinner
If it’s not one thing it’s another
Caught up in words
Tangled in lies
That’s me in the lyric. I’m the sinner they’re singing about. Sins of commission and sins of omission. Sins obvious and sins well-hidden. I am an expert at smoothing over the veneer of my life and appearing much more whole and holy than I truly am so that others see what I want them to see.
I’m a runner. And a hider.
The sad reality of this farce of togetherness is that I’m not fooling myself. I’m definitely not fooling God. I’m probably not even fooling those who look closely at my life. All this effort to construct a surface unencumbered by corruption, and nobody’s really buying the fairytale.
In the past few weeks I’ve become more open with my social network about what is happening in my marriage. Not completely transparent, but a little more direct. Lots of mentions of the sadness I’m experiencing and the confusion I feel. The sorrow over a marital commitment that no longer appears to have any value. The not-yet-extinguished hope that we might reconcile in spite of the odds against it. I’m trying to be open, and the reality is that I have a great responsibility in the condition of my marriage. I’m not the victim here. Not entirely.
I know that the calling on my life to be a Godly husband has not been consistently realized in my actions and attitudes. I have not always loved my wife as Christ loves the church. I’ve not loved my wife with a sacrificial, selfless love. My failures opened a space in my wife’s heart that was no longer shaped like me. As much as I want to say that my wife is the one who walked away from her commitment to me, I’m guilty of it too. I’m guilty of not being the man that she needed. I’m guilty of being broken, flawed, failed.
You are the Savior
And You take brokenness aside
And make it beautiful
Beautiful
It’s a thin wire I’m on. On one side is the weight of reality and on the other is the impossible hope for restoration. I waver back and forth, each footstep impacted by the current climate of circumstances. Each day opens up a different notion of what the future might hold and it can be, honestly, overwhelming to keep up with my fickle feelings.
Here’s the reality, though. I’m a sinner who is desperately in need of redemption and mercy. Christ is a Savior whose very nature is love and grace and healing. Could there be a more perfect match? Who else could take the ashes of my lifeand transform them into something of value? Who else could take heaviness of mourning and replace it with a song of joyfulness?
Who else could take my brokenness and make it beautiful?
___________________________
Brokenness Aside
Leslie Jordan and David Leonard
© 2011 Integrity’s Praise! /BMI and Integrity’s Alleluia! Music/SESAC CCLI#5881109
A Matter of Commitment
A couple of days ago, I headed to Ashland for a session with my chiropractor. I somehow convinced Isaac to tag along with me. It had something to do with the food I promised him if he joined me on the journey. Still, I was delighted to have the company of my oldest offspring.
Coming out of the restroom, I was greeted by the sight shown in this photograph. He had been waiting until he heard the door begin to open so he could “throw” himself into a wonderful Monty Python-esque pose at the bottom of the steps. I don’t think Isaac would have minded at all if other patrons had to step over or around him. The visual gag was important enough to commit to a little embarrassment.
This morning, that notion has me thinking about the things in my life I’m willing to commit to in spite of the discomfort, awkwardness, or stress they may require. I’m willing to sometimes look like a fool in front of my students because it might help them connect to learning in an engaged way. I’m willing to sign my own children up for individual activities even though it means I will forever be #TaxiDad, forced to shell out an increasingly high percentage of my take-home pay at the gas station. I’m willing to have faith that my marriage will be restored even though it means that my heart will be broken time after time as circumstances assure me I’m a fool for holding on.
That last thing is a tough one. It’s much easier for me to commit to something when there is tangible, positive feedback. The connected smiles on my students’ faces? I can see them. The happily active participation of my young Cosands on the court or stage? I can see it. But the possibility that the vows my wife and I made to each other almost twenty years ago will remain intact? That’s not so easy for me to see much of the time. So, I’m faced with a choice: do I choose to believe in what I can’t always see, or do I bag it and try to rebuild my heart?
Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart. (Proverbs 3:3 NIV)
I love that: “Write [love and faithfulness] on the tablet of your heart”. It’s what I’m trying to do every day. I fail much of the time. There are certainly moments (days…weeks) when I feel like shattering those heart tablets and giving up. If I had to rely on my own dimension of love, it would have given out long ago. Thankfully, there is another Scripture that speaks to my need:
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. (Deuteronomy 31:6 NIV)
He will never leave me nor forsake me? That is amazing news.
For every time I’ve turned my back and given up and lost faith and disobeyed and squandered grace… For every moment when doubt has had the upper hand and promises of restoration have seemed pointless and any filament of strength I may have had dissolved in the atrophy of fear… God’s love and provision and presence have never wavered. He has never left or forsaken me or you or anyone who calls out for His mercy.
So, where does that leave me? Trying to find that balance between what I see in life and what I believe in my heart. Trying to be strong and courageous even when the odds against me seem ridiculous and overwhelming. Trying to let the love of God calm the anxiety and fear and terror that my circumstances may induce.
Believing in what I can’t see takes commitment, and that commitment usually comes at a cost of discomfort and the potential of looking like a fool. But I know that God is committed to me with a faithfulness that goes beyond my wildest notions. What better example could I possibly follow?
Before, Now.
I’m struggling to see the you
that I fell in love with
the confident, exuberant,
relaxed you
who didn’t get caught up in the surface
who didn’t get lost in an image
who loved the underdog
and made me feel
valued
accepted
adored.
I’m wavering in my commitment
to love you no matter
what:
…comes
…changes
…gets lost.
To not give up
hope.
To not give up
Hope.
I’m trying to listen to
the voice of peace
of assurance
that God is in control…
that we are in His care…
that the you I loved will find her way
home.
The first time I heard the song All the Poor and Powerless by the worship duo All Sons and Daughters I was listening to the Relevant Podcast. I was driving down the road, running errands or shuttling kiddos and the song started. It was a moment of feeling completely blown away. Floored by the power of simplicity in lyric and melody. Humbled by God’s ability to reach into my busy schedule and whisper His love to broken and corrupt me.
All the poor and powerless
And all the lost and lonely
All the thieves will come confess
And know that You are holy
I heard myself in the lyrics. I have felt poor and powerless. I have felt lost and lonely. I have also experienced that place where the only possible response to the frail burden of my humanness is to look to the holiness of God. The song didn’t even play past the first chorus before I started shuttling backward on my iPod, seeking out the beginning for a second listen. And a third. And…
And all will sing out
Hallelujah
And we will cry out
Hallelujah
My eyes had teared up and my voice was rough, but I belted out that chorus with the passion of someone who knows what it feels like to be lost and then called home.
All the hearts who are content
And all who feel unworthy
And all who hurt with nothing left
Will know that You are holy
The song has been on my mind and lips again today as I think about landmarks and seasons of life. The thing that strikes me right now is that God’s holiness doesn’t change, no matter how drastically my heart and my situation may vary. When I am content and living in a place of rich blessing and abundance, God is holy and His love endures. When I am hurt and living in a place of deep sorrow and barrenness, God is holy and His love endures. My response should be the same also regardless of my situation or how disappointed I may feel. I should proclaim the glory of God in every season and every frame of mind.
I should, but I don’t. And I guess that is part of the frail burden of my humanness.
Lord, let my eyes be on You, let my heart beat with Your love and Your mercy, let my mind be filled with Your peace. No matter my situation, let me sing out praise to You.
Shout it
Go on scream it from the mountains
Go on and tell it to the masses
That He is God
Source: allsonsanddaughters.com
But He Didn’t Wonder Who Loved Him.
A song, a blog, and a picture book.
That was the sound of God’s voice I heard today, reminding me where He is in the middle of my messy life.
I’ve written previously about the wild range of emotions I can experience through the course of the day. Up/down…at peace/full of anxiety…confident/doubtful. It’s remarkable I can remember who I am at any given moment.
The past week has found me feeling a lack of assurance that God is ever going to work my marriage out in a way that resembles a happy ending. I’m not sure if it stems from my poor frame of mind or from the relative absence of promising indications, but the resulting fear is the same either way. I know that God is omnipotent. Nothing is outside of the shadow of His awesomeness. But, lately, I haven’t felt that knowledge to be very present in my point of view.
Today, God reminded me of His love for me in three wonderful ways.
I started my day by reading a very honest and powerful post by Alece in her Grit and Glory blog. She wrote about the disappointment we can sometimes feel with God’s action (or lack of action) in our lives even if we’re not always transparent enough to call it that. Referencing John the Baptists question about whether Christ was “the One” or if he should look for another, Alece pointed out that Jesus asks if we will still trust in Him even when He doesn’t choose to show up as we’d like Him to. It’s a question I need to answer for myself.
If I had my way, God would have brought my wife home within a few days of when she moved out. If I really had my way, she wouldn’t have left in the first place! My way doesn’t often equal God’s way, though, and I have to decide how to respond. Do I know that God could restore my marriage? Absolutely! Do I hope that He will restore my marriage? Undoubtedly. Am I prepared for the possibility that He may not choose to bring us back together? Wow…I really dislike that question. It doesn’t fit with my expectations or my prayers in any way.
My second reminder of where God is came after school, when I hit play on Chris Tomlin’s song Jesus, Son of God (from the Passion album White Flag). A few lines into the song came this lyric:
A crown of thorns, to mock Your name
Forgiveness fell upon Your face
A love like this, the world had never known
When I heard those words, my mind and my heart felt slammed with the reality of God’s merciful love in the middle of suffering. Jesus, the One who allowed Himself to be a replacement for sinful me on the cross that my foul choices earned, responded in the face of unfairness and pain with grace and compassion and forgiveness. It kicked me in the gut and showed me how immature I’ve been with these feelings of frustration. God doesn’t immediately meet my demands? WAAAAA! He doesn’t put the pieces back together in the manner that I see fit? TANTRUM!!!
Now, I’m not suggesting that it is completely unreasonable for me to feel devastated in the place I find myself. It truly does stink and it really is lousy. Most people could agree with that. The problem is in my forgetting that God’s power is not my power. His ways are not my ways. His timing is not my timing. I feel like He’s saying to me, as Alece suggested, “Will you still trust in Me even when you feel disappointed?”.
The final reminder leapt of the page of Kevin Henke’s delightful picture book Little White Rabbit where the title character wonders many things (what if he were green like grass or tall like trees, for instance) but knows one thing for sure.
He didn’t wonder who loved him.
I know who loves me. I have no doubt that the love of God knows no limits and that his heart is for me. I have seen His provision and His compassion and mercy in the darkest moments of the past 8 months, and there is no reason to doubt that His nature will change. I honestly am disappointed in the reality that my wife isn’t back home and the big questions in our marriage are still unanswered. I am a little disappointed in what feels like a lack of action on God’s part. How can I possibly be disappointed in His love for me, though?
His love that goes beyond reason and merit and barriers and understanding. His love that never fails and never backs down and never lets go. His love that will sustain me in the face of broken promises and broken hearts.
I don’t wonder who loves me. I know it very well.
Where is the Balance?
Yesterday, I chose to be stubborn.
I’ve been feeling hurt and sad and alone and abandoned and raw and indignant and helpless. (Need me to add any more adjectives? I’m guessing you have a sense of how I’ve been feeling.) This season I’m in with my relationship to my wife seems to spin from one extreme to the other at a rapid tempo. Sometimes I am flooded with hope and confidence and refuse to back down from my faith that God is healing us both and drawing us - in His time - back together.
Other times, I feel as though that confidence is completely unfounded. As though no amount of patience or understanding will have even the hint of a positive impact on my wife’s proclaimed lack of love for me and, after all, what’s the point in even trying to believe that the path we’re on ends anywhere other than divorce?
Yesterday, I had a choice to either help my wife prepare for her jewelry open house or stubbornly stay out of it and let her toil alone. I chose to be stubborn. I chose to turn away and drink my tea and pretty much ignore what she was doing. I think it’s the first time I’ve done that, even since she moved out. I’m usually her faithful assistant, packing out all of the jewelry cases, loading them in to the room where she’s having her open house, and spending nearly an hour carefully laying out and organizing each piece so it’s ready to be perused by potential customers.
Not yesterday, though.
There was, honestly, some satisfaction in letting her do it herself. Sort of that “Let her see how much I do for her! Then she’ll miss me and think twice about abandoning me!” There was also some guilt in shirking my role as a faithful helper to my wife. It is a complicated mess of feelings and emotions.
In the end, though, I think I chose incorrectly. I chose my response out of hurt and disappointment. Out of the feelings I have after being abandoned by the woman I imagined would always be there for me. I chose my response after considering the record of her wrongs against me.
That’s the problem. Love keeps no record of wrong. Period.
I have another choice today. My wife is having a recital with her voice lesson students. As with most of the things my wife does, I have a traditional role. I’m the equipment carrier, the sound technician, the video recorder, and the morale supporter. In honesty, I don’t feel like being any of those things today. The same hurt and disappointment I mentioned at the beginning of this post is still pretty much intact today. I’m thinking now, though, that my choice must be based on love - on God’s perfect love - and not on the record of wrongs that my nature wants to maintain.
Today, I’m going to make my best effort not to be stubborn.
Today, I’m going to try and show mercy.
And love.
