Love Week

Not limited to a day, this week was a Valentine’s extension. Each day waking to a circle of company, towels and shoes in little piles of possession. Every other moment, remembering why God gives us families to share, and knits together new ones.

Mornings spent meeting the sunshine. Nights of toasting and a pretzel. Another in worship remembering that no matter what, we must seek fellowship with Christ, and with those who follow Him.

Meals from different continents and more silliness from joy then the World will ever understand.

A love, stronger than two people, stronger than three, and growing faster than we know. Not according to our plans or feelings – but truer than one we could invent ourselves.

A Jesus love that is a balm applied to us. And a love that heals hurt feelings, ruined expectations or being rear-ended in evening traffic.

Love that casts out the fear of goodbyes. Distance. Loneliness. And a love that stands on the promises of His word.

This is not a good world, but we have a good God. And this week, was more than we deserved.

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Wedding Throwback

When we received our wedding photos, we poured wine, sat down on the only piece of furniture in the apartment, and talked our way through the entire album.

Pictures call back the memories like nothing else can, and at a picture of the nieces, I cried because their faces were too much happiness at once.

We remembered how the moment before we became man and wife, we both saw a rooster scratching around outside the window, and smiled at each other.

When the first flower girl came down the stairs and how we all started to cry, and Wesley gave her thumbs up.

I remember looking out over the people who’d traveled to be there, and seeing the peace in my parent’s face. Hearing the tears of my bridesmaid.

How the sight of my own pies astonished me, and I couldn’t stop thanking the kitchen crew, and Erik for his emergency doughnut run.

We remembered the constant gratitude in our hearts that day, to all the people who gave their most precious thing…time…to be with us. And how generous our families were in the months leading up to that day.

We remembered the emotions of each speech, and how people’s words played in our head throughout the honeymoon. During that transition, they worked as a reminder of what we’d been given and how much love is before and behind.

And we remembered our first moments of the reality sinking down to our toes. That the wait was over…and we got to go home together for the rest of our lives.

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To Forgive

When he asks me to forgive him, it’s harder than I think. Not to say the words eventually, but to be quick and true to it.

Then on a morning when there is soup and sunshine and all the blinds are up, I hear it.

That Jesus…not dutiful, obliged or bound, is faithful to forgive.

Faithful, even in our anguished false guilt. Even in our efforts of humility.

He’s there the same. Gently lifting us when we give up, saying take hope. This too I’ve died for.

Not like your wife, husband or child, but faithful to forgive every time. No patience running out, no blood misspent. No rolling of His gracious eyes.

And the smallness I feel when I think of this Grace, is where I want to spend the rest of my days. Free from the weight of failure and striving to offend Him least.

Let me walk in this softly, Lord.

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Five Minute Friday: Refine

 

Refine. A command to Holiness that brings us to our knees. The ultimatum we can never dig ourselves out from.

Refined. The cross shaped release from dust to a shiny coin in the sieve. Scrubbed, replaced, rejoicing.

Refining. And so it is.

None of us home and all of us heading there. One grateful step at a time as we face the challenge…To this day, be still and lean into the stretching.

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A Facelift

There are fond memories of this dresser, which we dragged back from an auction at 1:00 in the morning.

It is also less fortunately, the dresser with cigarette burns and rat nibbles.

So we worked together to make it usable, which is an adventure in itself.

Because if there are two people who approach projects in a more entirely different way than Wesley and I…please, please raise your hands.

I now have a complex about my painting.

Wesley was forced to finish his part while sleep deprived from work.

In many ways, this dresser confirmed more than just my love for the colour blue.

It taught me that Wesley and I can both be difficult people.

That we are also pretty good at getting over it.

And that if we can love each other while completing a project

…the future is bright.

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