{Marriage is Hard}: 10 Ways to Keep it Going Strong

It was April 1, 1995. April Fools Day. Flannels and droopy hair were in style. Either that or everything black. To express our teenage angst. 

I was sitting at table with a friend and all his other friends at a Denny's restaurant way past midnight. My parents weren't worried about me. As long as I was in a group, it didn't matter how long I stayed up.

And that is when we met. Sleepy-eyed and trying to be cool. Telling jokes and eating appetizers.

When it was time to go, I hugged him goodbye and the rest is history.

It's amazing how we have come from this...

To this...

The first few years of marriage were pretty easy. Just living life and loving each other.

Then, the winds and rain of tragedy hit our house, threatening to make it fall with a tremendous crash. There were times it very nearly did, but by the grace of God and our holding onto Him and His faithful Word, we made it thus far.

And, as we healed, forgave and were restored, we are glad we stayed together. And, thankful to the Lord neither of us gave up.

So what did I learn along the way? Tons. I wrote it all down in journals to look back on. Because I know marriage is hard, but the Lord is strong enough and His grace is sufficient enough to help us weather life's storms.

And it is good to be reminded, encouraged on those hard days. From my journals, I noticed the following reoccurring themes...

10 Ways to Keep a Marriage Strong:

1. Be Thankful: keep a notecard of all the reasons you are thankful your spouse to keep tucked in your Bible and look back on when you aren't feeling so loving toward him.

I am thankful that he...

opens doors for me
holds heavy things for me
encourages me
makes breakfast for the kids...

2. Be Prayerful: Once a week, I set aside a day to pray for my husband. A good book that helped me to start was The Power of a Praying Wife by Stormie Omartian. Life is a battle (Ephesians 6:12-13). Your spouse needs you on his side in prayer to fight the temptation to be selfish. To love sacrificially.

3. Be Grace-full: The times when you have the hardest time loving your spouse is the time when you need the most grace. These are the times I have asked for "multiplied grace and peace (2 Peter 1:2)."

4. Be Humble: We need to be humble enough to let things go. Some battles are worth fighting, but most aren't. It is more about saving face and saving pride.If the issue isn't crucial enough to be resolved at that moment, give your spouse some time and space to be lead by the Lord in loving you.

5. Be Open: Sometimes you will need to use unconventional methods to encourage your spouse to be a godly husband. If there are things in your marriage that are not healthy, ask the Lord to show you ways to help keep the good things in and the bad things out. Be willing and open to do the hard things to stay together. A helpful book to consider is Boundaries in Marriage and consider getting good Christian counselling.

6. Be Submissive: Submission is not as bad as it sounds. We look to the Lord and do what is pleasing to Him. And as we do, our desire to do things that please our husband grows (Ephesians 5:22-24). This doesn't mean being less or burying our wants and needs. It just means living in peace and harmony and not doing things that would put a burden on family life without first coming to a consensus with our spouse. Communication is key in true submission. Not silence.

When I felt passionate about going on a mission trip to Ukraine, at first Billy didn't want me to go. It would be burdensome to be apart from me and be the sole caretaker of our child, but I gave him ample space and time to think and pray about it. He eventually came around and gave me his blessing. We need our husband's blessing to flourish in whatever our pursuit.

7. Be Alone With God: If we can't be alone with God, we can't grow. Our faith walk is not dependent on our spouse. We have to make the time every day cultivating our own relationship with the Lord, apart from our husband. In heaven, there is no marriage (Matthew 22:30). We will be close to our husband, but in a different way. Our most important relationship is with God.

8. Be Patient: Being in a "marriage rut" is no fun. But, we must remember we are on a journey of faith. This world is not our home, but there will be times of refreshing. Wait for those times and seek God's face. He will bless you in the waiting.

9. Be Creative: It is imperative that our spouse is not our sole means to purpose and fulfillment. All the Disney princess movies have a "happily ever after" when the prince marries his bride, but then what happens. What happens after Mr. Darcy wins over Lizzie in Pride and Prejudice? We need to seek ways to use our gifts to the glory of God in our family, but also in the world. To be a light and let it shine for Christ.

10. Be Loved: "We love because He first loved us (1 John 4:19)." When we know who we are in Christ are hearts are filled with love. And we can share that unconditional, grace-filled, agape love with our spouse. And, with the world. When they see our love for each other, they see Christ in you the hope of glory !

"Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed,

Because His compassions fail not.

23 

They are new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness."

Lamentations 3:22-23

Doxology of Life

Doxology of Life

Why all the wonders in the world?

In the sky, the land, the oceans swirl?

Creatures diverse and separate teeming, 

Migration sets the cycle streaming. 

Gathering and reaching, 

Through womb of water breaching.

For breath of air and breath of life,

Prevail the whales and butterflies.

More than I can comprehend

Makes a visual Amen.

                       ~C. S. Griese

He was a surfer dude with long hair that fell across his tanned neck. The class looked up to him for guidance. For inspiration. And for a good letter grade in Biology.

He scanned the room and grinned as if he was about to tell us wonderful news. "Raise your hand if you want to skip the chapter on evolution."

Hands sprung up, including mine. Some students were high-fiving; overjoyed for not having to learn another boring concept. Some breathed sighs of relief for skipping a theory they didn't believe in.

My hand was raised for both reasons. I was thankful myself that this teacher and surfer for Jesus didn't subject us to an idea that shakes the faith of many impressionable young people.

My sense of wonder remained. We were not an accident. We were made on purpose. For a purpose.

My ninth grade Biology class unanimously voted out evolution, and I don't think I missed a thing.

To be sure, I've since learned all about it. Through the media, textbooks, college professors, novels, and movies. Evolution has been clearly explained to me.

But, I don't believe it.

Sure creatures are equipped to adapt to their environment, but I've never believed that life was an accident. 

Yet we're taught from a young age, this marred world is all there is. It's no wonder so many suffer from hopelessness.

But, if we believed we were made on purpose, out of love and great intention, wouldn't that change our perspective on life?

The thing is, we really can't know for sure if God is real. There is nothing quantifiable to prove His existence.

But, the qualitative data is there.

His qualities.

His handiwork.

We were made in His image. To love. To create. To contemplate. To give order. To beautify our world.

We cannot see God, but we are His masterpiece.

As are whales and butterflies.

From great to small, all of creation longs for our Creator to reveal Himself and to heal, restore, and renew this broken world.

Salvation is found in no other(Acts 4:11,12).

Through wars and famine, peace and plenty, our God remains the same. He loves us. He has a plan. And, He is good.

And, He's going to make it all right again.

One day, we'll see.

"We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we are saved (Romans 8:22-24)."

Doxology

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Praise Him all creatures here below.

Praise Him above ye heavenly host.

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Amen.

Chasing Rainbows and the Gift of Autism

Like Hannah, I asked the Lord for him (1 Samuel 1:1-28). Well, maybe not quite the same way.

I was alone in the long stretch of a hallway that led to our bedrooms. Pictures of my children, all my children, even my little one who lived a short life, spanned the length of the wall from end to end.

And the tears poured down because another month had gone by, and I still wasn't pregnant.

I had but one child now, my Bright Girl, already a preschooler, who was napping in her room.

I thought I was being quiet. I didn't want to disturb her with my sorrow.

But, I was longing for a rainbow baby. Another son after going through the storm of losing my Luke.

Standing under his picture, another wave of grief hit me. As I bowed my head to weep, I banged into the wall.

Ouch.

Bright Girl came out of her room and saw me rubbing my aching head. I'm sure my eyes were puffy, and I was still sniffling.

"What's wrong, Mama?" She peered up at me with her bright blue eyes. "Do you need your daddy?"

Ah, the wisdom of little children.

I nodded my head. "Yes. I need God, my Daddy in heaven." I held her close and prayed, asking if the Lord would indeed give me another son.

After that I stopped asking and stopped worrying about it.

And, the Lord did bless us with another pregnancy. Through an ultrasound, we discovered the baby was a another boy.  

At about five months into the pregnancy, something went wrong.  Billy was driving, and I was
sitting in the passenger seat of our SUV.  I heard a plop behind me where Bright Girl was seated.

“Mommy, please get my sippy cup,” she pleaded.

Reaching around the seat, I attempted to grab it, but, as I picked it up, I felt a searing pain in my abdomen. 

We arrived home a few moments later, and I rushed to the bathroom.
I had begun hemorrhaging and didn’t know what to do. 
I called out to Billy, and he helped me lay down on the bed. 

As I prayed that the Lord would not let me suffer sorrow upon sorrow, Billy dialed my obstetrician.

We went in for an ultrasound that same day and discovered a rupture between the baby’s egg sac and my uterus. On the ultrasound screen, in black-and-white, I could see the stream of blood trickling down from the tear.

“Will my baby die?” I felt my brow scrunch up.

“There’s about a 50% chance of survival," replied the doctor. "But, you’ll need strict bed rest until you heal up.”

That wasn’t complete assurance my baby would be okay, but nevertheless, I followed the doctor’s strict orders—for six weeks. To keep from feeling anxious, I prayed and wrote down my favorite Scriptures on note cards.

Most days, Bright Girl played with her toys next to me, and I lay on the futon in the living room, reading and praying.  Friends came and brought me magazines, books, and movies to help pass the time. 

After six weeks, an ultrasound revealed the rupture completely healed. 

My baby boy, my Little Man, was born a week after his due date with only two hours of labor. As soon as he was born, he opened up his bright blue eyes to take in this strange new world. 

The doctor laid him on my chest, and as I held him, I rested in awe of my Father God, who had given me such a beautiful child. To be able to hold him right when he was born and take him home with me was like a dream come true.

After his 12 month check-up and immunizations, our little boy came down with a 105 degree fever. We rushed him to a clinic and his fever came down with Tylenol, but after that day, something changed...

I couldn't seem to get a smile, good eye contact. There was an inward turn...

When we would look at him, he would turn his eyes away...

His desire to connect was fading. His growing vocabulary, screeched to a halt...

I felt like I was losing my son.

I kept thinking, this is not happening. But, it was all so subtle. Within a matter of months, he went from a happy, sociable little toddler to one who had constant meltdowns.

He became highly sensory-sensitive and couldn't even stand his own tears on his face and would try to scratch them away when he cried.

I wouldn't give him what he wanted unless he asked for it. He had to ask, either with his words or with baby signs that I taught him before he was one. He would get so frustrated with me. But, I wouldn't give in.

Looking back on that time, I know now that I was fighting for my son. To keep him from losing speech all together. To keep him from disconnecting from us.

Tired of my pediatrician saying he was fine, I took him to a child developmental specialist and a psychchiatrist when he was four.

Both gave him the diagnosis of Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD). And, he was referred to an occupational therapist to receive sensory integration therapy.

He started to turn around...

The therapy helped some, but I had this gnawing feeling that it wasn't the right diagnosis. Even though SPD was hard enough to have, I thought Little Man had the mysterious epidemic that is plaguing so many children of this generation.

Autism.

I pondered this in my heart, hoping that I was wrong. But, the concern grew as he did.

Even though, yes, he did talk, he flapped his arms when he was excited and still had trouble looking people in the eyes for more than a few seconds (I had to be quick with the camera to capture him at attention). 

And, he didn't seem to be "growing out of it." He needed more help.

So, when he was eight, I started asking around and connected with friends who had children with autism who had the same behaviors as my Little Man.

With a list of recommended doctors  in hand, I called until I found one that would see him. A neurologist. Surely a neurologist would finally put to rest my concerns for autism.

Before we went to the appointment, I prayed that the doctor would see it if he truly had autism.

And, she did.

She saw that he did.

So, the puzzle pieces finally came together. And, the picture was still my little boy. But, now I know he's autistic, and he has a long road ahead of him.

This is the son I asked for. My rainbow baby. I was chasing rainbows, hoping that having another son would help heal the ache of having a child who died.

But, it was a different kind of rainbow than I was dreaming of.

Image credit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Autism_Awareness_Ribbon.png

He has a disability. I didn't ask for that. But, I didn't ask for a child without disabilities either.

And, of course I still love him. He's mine. He's still my Little Man.

Then I saw it. In asking for another son, I was chasing rainbows, an elusive brilliance that fades away with changes circumstances like the clouds clearing from the sky, revealing the brightness of the sun. 

I didn't know it, but all along, I did have a rainbow. 

The rainbow inside my heart.

Through every sorrow, the love of God, my Father in heaven, has been shining in my heart, giving me the rainbow of a transformed life.

It's true. And, this rainbow is eternal.

In all the pain and suffering of life, when we trust in Christ, he gives us more faith, hope, and love. 

And He will do so even now.

There are always glimmers of grace if you look for them.

Evidences of our Father's presence and providence.

Our last visit to our new pediatrician, I saw a glimmer.

He asked Little Man what he wanted to be when he grew up.

"A Christian scientist." Little Man was serious.

"I believe that God divinely intervened to create us. I don't think we came from monkeys either." The doctor winked and patted him on the back.

Good answer. This pediatrician is a keeper.

And, I would agree. We are all here for a reason. God divinely intervened to create us.

We don't often think about the ways our souls have been damaged by the fall, our own sin, or the sins of others.

We need redemption...

"For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 6:23)

For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:39)

We need restoration...

And, sometimes, it is through the valley of the shadow of death that the light of Christ shines all the more brightly (Psalm 23).

Through Christ, the Good Shepherd, our dark valleys of uncertainty can become a rainbow valley for our soul.

As we trust in Christ, rely on Him, and look to Him for all our needs, we will become more and more like Him.


"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 

For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers." (Romans 8:28, 29)


In a way, everything, even hard things like autism, can be a blessing, a gift, if we continue to trust God and offer up our thanks to Him. He knows what He's doing. And, we can keep looking for those glimmers of grace along the way.

Thanksgiving Grace: How I Discovered My Writer's Voice

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:The_Secret_Garden_book_cover_-_Project_Gutenberg_eText_17396.jpg

Dear Reader,

Now that NaNoWriMo is over, or at least my own version of it, did I write that great American novel?

Not yet.

But, I did write. And, I've learned a valuable lesson from the experience that will impact the quality of my writing from here on out.

For starters, it was bothering me that my writing was missing something. Something that would make it, well, readable.

It's kind of like when I learned to play violin. For the longest time, I couldn't read music and play at the same time. I just couldn't do it. I found a way around my problem by writing out the letter of each note on the sheet music. It worked, but it slowed me down and interrupted the flow of my music.

I remember clearly now, the first day that I could to play a piece before writing out the notes. I was in seventh grade, and thought I would give it one more try.

I opened my violin case, took out my rosin, and rubbed it all over the hair of my bow. The sweet smell of amber tickled my nose. Standing up straight, I held my violin under my chin and focused on the sheet music. No letters this time. Only notes.

Page de Camara on violin playing Canon in D

To my delight, as the bow slid across the bridge, I could decipher the notes on the sheet. I could play and read music simultaneously. It's as if something inside of me finally clicked.

It was the same way with writing. I kept reading others' works, good books, hoping that some of that awesome talent would rub off on me. When I went to write, the story made sense, but it didn't flow. It's like I couldn't tell a story and make it come alive for the reader at the same time.

But, despite my sense of failure, I didn't give up. I kept writing hoping that one day I'd get it.

Well, toward the end of NaNoWriMo, something clicked. It wasn't when I was writing. It was while reading a children's book (sometimes they're the best). The book was called, Stay!, Keeper's Story, a novel about a dog, from the dog's point of view.

Leave it to Lois Lowry to teach me the art of voice. I love her books, especially The Giver series. Yes, more of the dystopian, post-apocalyptic genre, but the authenticity of the characters in these books is what makes them so readable.

In a good book, with strong voice and a steady, rhythmic flow, you can immerse yourself in the writer's world, even a world where a dog thinks like a human.

It's true. I was inside Keeper's mind. I needed to learn how to do that. How to play with words in such a way that I can create a whole new world.

Since that moment, I've been writing in a way that enables the reader to get lost in the words, in the world of my story. It was truly a turning point for me.

Now, I just have to go back over all that I've written with fresh eyes and a new perspective.

In the song Amazing Grace, written by John Newton, the words

"I once was blind, but now I see"

have taken on a new meaning for me.

There is the grace of knowing that in my sinfulness, frailty, and flaws, God has written a new story for me, a story of redemption. His death for my life. My life for His glory.

Every grace is a gift from the good heart of my Father in heaven,
from the grace of understanding muscial notation to the grace of discovering my writer's voice and the little graces in between.

Thanksgiving can become not just a once-a-year event, but an everyday occasion, from sunrise to sunset in this crazy short time we have to experience God's grace and give back the gift of praise.

This truth gives me hope to think about the next grace and the next...

His By Grace,

Chanda