Conferences

It has been an eventful couple of weeks.  Michael and I attended a Marriage Conference in North Carolina, followed by a Family Conference in Tulsa last weekend.  Both were excellent.

The Marriage Conference was a series of messages regarding what our marriages should be.  I think the biggest takeaway for me was the reminder that everything testifies to something...so what does our marriage testify to?  What is getting preached from our marriage?  Are we preaching Christ's love for the Church or is our marriage preaching a false gospel?

The questions that were visited over the course of the weekend were:
     *Do you know what God wants in a marriage?
     *Do you want what God wants in your marriage?
     *Do you do what God wants in your marriage?

The weekend was so full and rich, there's no way I could convey it all, but I highly encourage all married couples to attend, no matter what stage you are at in your marriage.  I will say, we were amongst the oldest and longest married there and it was odd for me to be the "mentor."  Young couples, earnestly seeking advice from someone who has already done that and has good fruit.  Wow. I remember those days of seeking wisdom from those I deemed wiser.  It is such a humbling experience to be on that side of the equation!  And the young people had some incredibly wise questions!

A portion of the conference was on "Forming Marriages," for navigating the waters in courtship and betrothal.  Of course, everyone has a different outlook on what that looks like and that's okay.  It's a very individual process.  But there was a lot of excellent advice given.  Namely...for adult children looking to marry, BE the right person and MARRY the right person.  For parents, it is so important to base our decisions on the Bible.  Give our reasons for things FROM SCRIPTURE, not because we feel it.  Do not exasperate your children.  And when it comes to dating/courtship/engagement/marriage, as with everything else, do not learn the way of the Gentiles.

The  Family Conference was a busy and full weekend of messages on The Purpose in Suffering.  I knew it would be good, but I didn't not realize how much I needed it.  I did not even realize how much bitterness I have been holding onto.  Not necessarily regarding William's death, in particular, but with the circumstances surrounding it.  I have got to forgive and move past so many things.  That is one way you can pray for me.

It is interesting how things can look to others and how we can so easily hide our inner struggles without even attempting to.  There are those who see my life and think (and even tell me) that I am doing so well.  That I'm handling his death and moving on.  I know they mean well.  But I feel like a fraud.  If only they knew.  If only they knew how many sleepless nights, how many tears, how many conversations with God, how many struggles to let go of anger or frustration or fear or resentment.  If only they knew that rarely does a day go by that I don't look at William's picture and want to scream, WHY?!?!?!? Why isn't he here?  Why couldn't we have one more year?  One more day?  Even one more hour?  If only they knew the wave of anger that sweeps over me so often... If only.

It's not that I'm angry at God.  Just the whole idea of death and sorrow and suffering.

But it turns out that it's not too terribly difficult to keep those things hidden, even when you try to be open and honest.

Because, the truth is, those are the things I work really hard to stay on top of.  I believe in God's sovereignty.  I trust Him.  I know He is good and right and true.  And, even though I have to remind myself of that daily when the enemy sneaks into my mind, I am hoping the habitual practice of renewing my mind and reminding myself of what I know to be true will eventually remove the need for it.  But, even if it doesn't, I will press on because He has me.  And there's much comfort in that.

Two big quotes that I took away from this conference, and I hope they stick with me, are:

1) The credibility of the Gospel is directly tied to the integrity of those who proclaim it.

2)  How do those who proclaim such life-changing power display so little of it in their lives?


Now, if that isn't food for thought, I don't know what is.  I remember the old saying, "With knowledge comes responsibility."  As God's people, he doesn't just hand us a ticket for heaven and say, "Hang out down there until your time is up."  He has a purpose and our purpose is to fulfill His.  We have work to do.  Let's make sure we're doing it.  And when we mess up, let's dust it off and try again.

...

“The One”

As most of you know, we aren’t big on celebrating most holidays. You guessed it, that includes Valentine’s Day. It’s not that we aren’t all for showing love to one another, but history is also really important to us. And truth.

But I came across this post today on a page I follow, Amy Weatherly (https://m.facebook.com/msamyweatherly/). She’s a “mom blogger” and she’s usually pretty funny and right on. I throw in the “usually” disclaimer because there are definitely some things I disagree with her on. But I thought this was spot on, important, and maybe even timely....

“I didn’t care. 

He didn’t have any money, just school loans. 

I didn’t care. 

He was younger than I was, by quite a bit. Almost 4 years, to be exact. 

I didn’t care. 

He didn’t know how to dress. His Wranglers were about an inch shorter than they should have been. 

I didn’t care. 

His truck didn’t have any air conditioning. And it was 10,000 degrees the summer we started dating. 

I didn’t care. 

He couldn’t dance to save his life. (A fact which he still disputes to this day, but even his own mother agrees with me on this one.)

He had holes in his ostrich-skin boots. 

He wasn’t splashy or flashy or fake. He wasn’t showy or phony. He didn’t have expensive taste. He wasn’t drawn to the finer things. 

He didn’t talk much. 

And when he did, he didn’t always say the right things. He didn’t take me on big, fancy dates. He preferred just casually hanging out around his tiny, messy apartment. 

He loved to argue. He purposely pushed my buttons. He disagreed with me, he had to make meticulous plans for everything we did, he made me listen to talk radio for crying out loud. 

He was so stubborn. He was so set in his ways. He couldn’t be convinced to do anything, to say anything, to believe anything he didn’t want to. 

I didn’t care. 

He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever dated before. He wasn’t anything like the guy my family envisioned I’d end up marrying. He wasn’t the life of the party or Mr. Center of Attention or King Charismatic. He was more like King “is it time to go yet?”

I didn’t care. 

My engagement ring was small. My proposal was simple. 

I didn’t care. 

He was still in school. He didn’t know where he was going to live. He didn’t have a job. 

I didn’t care. 

I just loved him. I just wanted to be with him. I just wanted to live my life with him by my side, telling corny jokes and driving me crazy. 

It was so simple. 

He just made me laugh. He just made me smile. He just told me the truth. He just made everything so easy. He just took care of me. He just accepted me. He just looked at me and made the whole world right. 

He just believed in me. He believed in my dreams, but that’s not all, he actually pushed me to make them become a reality. He actually pushed me to become the best possible version of myself. 

He just let me know that he’d never leave. He just reminded me he was always on my side. He just told me he always had my back. And I just told him he always had my heart. 

And that’s how I knew he was the one: I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anyone except him. I didn’t care about being anywhere except right where he was. I didn’t care about anything except sharing this life with him. 

To every girl out there right now, desperate to find “the one,” anxious to know what it will feel like and look like and be like. To every girl out there ready to settle. To every girl out there right now, sitting in a crowded room hoping someone talks to her, swiping left, swiping right. To every girl out there doodling in her journal, drawing up her perfect man, filling her head with lofty expectations. To every girl out there dreading another single Valentine’s Day. 

I can’t tell you who the right guy is for you. I can’t tell you what he looks like or what he does, or where you’ll find him, or if you’ll find him. 

But I can tell you this: When and if you meet him, you’ll know. You’ll throw the list away. You’ll stop trying to make him measure up. You’ll laugh at how different he looks from the image of Prince Charming you created in your mind. 

He won’t be perfect. Your life won’t be perfect. Your love won’t be perfect, but I promise, you won’t care. 

And all your flaws, all your imperfections, all your past - he won’t care. About any of it. He’ll take you exactly as you are. He will force you to see yourself in a whole new light.  “

I love this story. I pretty much could have written it about Michael and me, with a few minor changes. And I actually do not advocate throwing the entire list out but I definitely think that when you’re young, you might put some superficial, non-essentials on there that SHOULD get tossed aside and will, when the right one comes along.

Michael and I were (and still are) opposites in so many ways from the kinds of music we like (and don’t) to personality types to vacation preferences to thoughts on many different things. But we’re so similar in the ways that matter...of one mind. And I KNEW. He’s always been the one. It was true then, it’s true now. And when the right one comes along, you’ll know it, too. ❤️

Looking for Echoes

It's probably weird that I hold on to William's things so tightly.  Sometimes I will pick up his Woody or Hulk just because it's something he has touched.  His favorite blanket is still draped over his wheelchair, sitting in my bedroom.  It's odd that while so many of his things bring me comfort, I still can't bring myself to touch the blanket without violent tears.  I remember him wrapped in it the night before he died, snuggled up so close to me.  And removing it from him when he stopped breathing on the side of the road that next morning.  I slept with it for days, maybe weeks.  But now, every time I touch it, I am overcome.

But many of his things bring me joy.  They help me feel like he's not so far in the past.  I love to slip my hands into his Hulk hands and hold the same inside bar that he used to wrap his little fingers around.  I find comfort in that one simple action, feeling like it wasn't all that long ago, he was here and putting his hand in mine.

I know many of my friends are able to look at each day as "one day closer" to the blessed reunion, but that is difficult for me.  At times the days seem soooooo long, like they are stretching on and on.  It's hard for me to look at them as one step closer when I feel so keenly the weight of being another day further from his life here with me.  I feel like he's slipping further and further from my grasp.  The pictures get older and older.  The memories are all the same.  Each new event brings more pictures, more memories, without him.

Maybe there are some things I hold on to too tightly.  But I can't seem to let go.  I’m always looking for those echoes...