through the rest of my life

Three years ago today, I exchanged vows with my husband. We didn't promise to care for each other in sickness or in health. Or in richness or poorness. Instead, we found different words to exchange - words that meant something more to me - to us.

Leslie, I love you and I know that this love is from God. Because of this, I want to be your husband so that we might serve Christ together. Through all of the uncertainties and trials of the present and future, I promise to be faithful to you and love you. I promise to guide and protect you as Christ does his church, as long as we both shall live. God's Word gives us the perfect example of this love in Christ's death for the Church. I shall try always, with God's help, to show you this same kind of love, for I know that in His sight we will both be one.
Justin, I love you. I prayed that God would lead me to his choice. I praise Him that tonight His will is being fulfilled. Through the pressures of the present and uncertainties of the future I promise my faithfulness, to follow you through all of life's experiences as you follow God, that together we may grow in the likeness of Christ and our home be a praise to Him.

No one stood beside as we pledged our love to each other. Friends came to the front and read poems or verses.

I love you, not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you, not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you, for the part of me that you bring out. I love you, for putting your hand into my heaped-up heart, and passing over all the foolish, weak things that you can’t help dimly seeing there, and for drawing out, into the light, all the beautiful belongings that no one else had looked quite far enough to find. I love you, because you are helping me to make of the lumber of my life, not a tavern, but a temple. Out of the works of my every day, not a reproach, but a song. I love you, because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me good, and more than any fate could have done to make me happy. You have done it without a touch, without a word, without a sign. You have done it by being yourself. Perhaps that is what being a friend means, after all. - “I Love You”, by Roy Croft

They say they will love, comfort, honor each other to the end of their days. They say they will cherish each other and be faithful to each other always. They say they will do these things not just when they feel like it, but even -- for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health -- when they don’t feel like it at all. In other words, the vows they make could hardly be more extravagant. They give away their freedom. They take on themselves each other’s burdens. They bind their live s together... The question is, what do they get in return? They get each other in return... There will always be the other to talk to, to listen to... There is still someone to get through the night with, to wake into the new day beside. If they have children, they can give them, as well as each other, roots and wings. If they don’t have children, they each become the other’s child. They both still have their lives apart as well as a life together. They both still have their separate ways to find. But a marriage made in heaven is one where a man and a woman become more richly themselves together than the chances are either of them could ever have managed to become alone. - Frederick Buechner, Beyond Words

Ultimately there comes a time when a decision must be made. Ultimately two people who love each other must ask themselves how much they hope for as their love grows and deepens, and how much risk they are willing to take. It is indeed a fearful gamble. Because it is the nature of love to create, a marriage itself is something, which has to be created. To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take. If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation. It takes a lifetime to learn another person. When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling. - "The Irrational Season", by Madeleine L'Engle

Our mothers struggled to light the unity candle only to have it blown out minutes afterwards.

We exchanged rings.

These are the hands of your best friend, young and strong and full of love for you, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as you promise to love each other today, tomorrow, and forever. These are the hands that will work alongside yours, as together you build your future. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, and with the slightest touch, will comfort you like no other. These are the hands that will hold you when fear or grief fills your mind. These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes; tears of sorrow, and as in today, tears of joy. These are the hands that will tenderly hold your children, the hands that will help you to hold your family as one. These are the hands that will give you strength when you need it. And lastly, these are the hands that even when wrinkled and aged, will still be reaching for yours, still giving you the same unspoken tenderness with just a touch. - “Blessing of the Hands", revised by Rev. Daniel L. Harris

It rained all day leading up to the ceremony. The day was to be held outside. Our wedding coordinator suggested moving the ceremony inside, but I refused. I wanted an outdoor wedding. It was my dream. And just as I slipped my hand into the crook of my father's elbow, the rain stopped.

 

The ground was wet, and clouds lingered in the sky. Raindrops glistened on the luscious gardens, and our guests sat underneath tents. The reception was inside of the house rather than on the deck. And the ceremony went as planned.

 

I've said before that God orchestrated the wedding. He made the lighting perfect for pictures. He ensured that the hurrican threatening the Gulf Coast spared my parent's house while they were in Oklahoma City for my wedding. He brought together two families and created the family I have now with my husband.

But his orchestration didn't end with the wedding. It continues in the daily life of my marriage. Even when the storms threaten to keep us indoors. Even when it seems all hope is lost and that we will be swept away by a hurrican. He shows up. Right as we are about to step outside of our marriage. Right as we are ready to move on from where we are. He comes in and reminds us that He is there and will always be there.

 

That's why we're still married today. We are just two sinners saved by grace. And we have a God who loves us enough to fight for us (and our marriage) on the days that we are too tired to do anything but fight with each other.

(title from "we are man & wife" by michelle featherstone)

it's more than you can see

Yesterday a friend of mine posed a question on her blog. The question was what would you do if you knew you could not fail. The blog post and subsequent responses can be found here.

The question is one I have asked myself in the past. I even have a decorative plaque in my house with the same question. But for some reason, it fully resonated with me yesterday and settled into the depths of my heart. I've re-asked myself the question and re-answered it as well over the past twenty-four hours.

There are several things I would do. Some are silly, some are serious, and some I am not quite sure what to think.

I would love to: dye my hair pink (at least some streaks), pierce my nose, drive to Michigan this weekend, jump in the freezing cold ocean, get another tattoo, wrestle with the dogs on the floor, paint, take more pictures, and it goes on and on. Those are things I would love to do, things that wouldn't result in failure, but things I want to do but don't.

If failure were not an option, I would play the lottery for one. If I knew I couldn't fail, then I would win. And I wouldn't necessarily need to win the entire lottery. $200,000 (minus the taxes) would be enough for me. It would provide me the money to fix our house, to pay off our debts, to give generously to those in need, and to have an extra cushion wherein we would not have to worry about money. It's strange to say all that since living in US puts us within the most rich out of the entire world, but there it is all the same.

I would also stop making excuses. I would live recklessly and stop holding myself back. This would spill into all aspect of my life including my walk with Jesus, caring for others, working with the youth group at our church, and my friendships. So often, I keep myself at bay and try to quiet my desires because of fear that things would not work out the way I hoped they would.

I would also let go. I would stop feeling as though I needed to be in control. This is such a struggle for me. I want to control every aspect of the life I live and the aspects of life around me. And it's tiring. It is also the exact opposite of what God calls us to be. He's slowly teaching me (and also forcing me) to relinquish control. But, still, there are times when the panic rises up and I grab back onto the control rather than allowing God to guide me through life, my hands open to receive His blessings rather than closed around the things I feel need attention.

I would laugh more. And smile more. Maybe even dance more. And sing more loudly. I don't dance or sing as often/ as loudly as I would like because I am afraid. Afraid of failure silly enough. I'm not as talented in the dancing and singing department as some, and I worry others are judging my lack of talent. So I don't dance or sing. How lovely it would be to no longer care what others thought and just let go! This would open up a whole new world for me and for my walk with Jesus. If I stopped caring about what others thought, my life would blossom like a flower after a fresh spring rain.

And I would write. Preferably full-time but most certainly part-time. Writing is in my blood. I can quiet it sometimes, but the urge and desire to spill words and stories across the page still exists. I think it always has. Even before I would type or write out the letters, I spun stories and tales. I wrote (and illustrated) my first book at a young age about a skunk who gets stuck in a high school and then has adventures in said high school. I spent my adolescent years and well into my college years writing fan fiction and then also writing true fiction. I even took extra English and writing classes in college. And I ultimately graduated with a degree in writing.

But I don't do these things. Instead, I let the fear of failure and of the unknown and of what other people might think grip me. And I think that's why this question resonates so much - especially now.

I desperately want the life I am meant to live. This could be it, my life right now, but it could also be so much more than my human mind can imagine. I fully believe God has a purpose for every life, and I fully believe that the purpose for my life is much more than what I give it credit for.

My husband and I both feel this way. We both feel like there is more out there, but we don't know what. We both desire to not feel stuck (as we often do) in this life, in this house, in this state, and in our jobs. We want freedom, and I think much of our freedom (and the freedom for others) could very well come from no longer being afraid and acting as though we can not fail.

It doesn't mean that we quit our jobs and stop paying our bills or that we run from responsibility. It simply means we figure out our true hopes and dreams and desires and pursue them fully - not in a way that looks like pursual but still leaves us feeling stuck.

I know not all things will happen. It's unlikely that I will win even $100 in the lottery let alone $200,000. But I can do my best to stop making excuses. I can smile more. I can laugh more. I can sing and dance like there is no one else and then not apologize for making anyone feel uncomfortable. And I can write.

I just wish it all weren't so frightening.

(title from "i said" by michelle featherstone)

And now, I pass the question onto all of you. What would you do if you knew you could not fail?