A Love Letter (It's not what you think!)

Good morning! I hope you are having a wonderful day! I miss you ever moment we are not together. Muaw! I am writing you this now because, well, I am so in love with you! Sometimes, I just don't know what else to do but tell you all the reasons I think you are wonderful. Are you ready?? Hehehe Let's go!

I love the way you kiss me, hold me and make me feel cherished and loved. Each kiss is different and unique. I can almost read your mind when I feel your lips against mine. I sense when you are tired, upset, happy. And then, with every kiss, I get to look into your beautiful eyes. I am so happy I get to spend the rest of my life figuring out the depths of love you hold back there. Your soft eyes already give you away, even more than your kisses do.

There are so many ways you make me feel like a beautiful woman cherished like a sparkling diamond. You do so many things for me. Do I say thank you enough? I hope I do! Every note, every letter, I cherish. Each surprise, big and small, makes me feel soft and squishy inside my chest. I adore the way you take care of me and the kids. You are so careful, always directing us towards right and good decisions.

There is much wisdom and honor inside you that spills into me and will continue to trickle down to the children. You are honest, true and always there for me. Any moment of the day, any time of night, I can call you and you will hear me. Sometimes you may not answer right away, but you hear me and I feel safe in that knowledge.

You are my protector and my prince. I honor you because you are so good. You have all the right answers even when I don't understand them in the moment. I know to trust you above all else. My purpose here on earth is to lift you up with my words, my actions and the praises within my heart. Many times I hold these things back. But now, it's time to let them all out.

I exalt you, praise you, worship you. Above everything else on this earth, you are mine and I am yours. You have seen me through every affliction. I have turned my back on you and been selfish, rude, even downright mean. Still, you chase after my heart because you love me so much. What else can compare to this love?

...

Well, now I'm stuck. What do I say next? I'm not sure if you've caught on yet, but there is a question on the recipient of this letter. Isn't there? Or is there? Now I know that I am making zero sense.

A few days ago I was writing a love letter to Jon on his V -Day card. Of course it was ultra-long and full of mushy-gooey-ewiness. I started telling him I loved how he takes care of us, his family. I love seeing him be a father. I then started praising him for his intelligence, wisdom and honor. Within in two sentences of passionately exalting him, I stopped. Who the heck was I writing to? I never used the word "praise," "exalt," or "adore." But it's almost like I might as well have. My love letter was almost complete and as I sat with my pen relaxed between my right thumb and fore finger I read through the purple marks I made and stopped when the white space interrupted.

I was stunned at the seemingly new condition of my heart. Was I really in the process of worshipping Jon? Or was I simply worshipping the love we have for each other? Simple, really? Is any of this "simple?" I thought back to my many written prayers in my prayer journal. Each one felt forced, well thought out so it looked good on paper. I guess I thought that with practice, I could feel deep love and adoration for my Creator.

Jon wooed me into this disgusting mushiness we have created together. He brought me flowers, wrote me love letters and cute notes. He creates romantic environments with candle light and sweet songs in my living room. He held me when there were tears and anger that made my body shake. He held my hand when I was scared and comforted me with soft words only I could hear.

But wait, hasn't God already done these things for me? Hasn't he been doing this my whole life? He blesses me every day with sunshine, joy, the sweet taste of chocolate and smell of coffee. He wrote me a love letter full of cute notes. I read it every day - my Bible. He creates romantic environments for me because he wants to hold me and talk with me. But I have learned to ignore his promptings for stillness in my days. I don't allow Him the time to speak to me through my music anymore.

I have felt God's Presence before. My knees were shaking and my stomache was doing flip flops and my heart was full of Godly sorrow. This is how He led me to Him. From that moment on at twelve years old, I've had the Holy Spirit inside me ready to comfort me, soothe me and rejoice with me.

So why aren't I so in love with Him? Will my love for Jon wither away as well? Jon says he will spend the rest of his life wooing me to fall in love with him. God says he does the same thing.

I have a feeling that Jon will always be able to woo me and I will always see it and accept it and love him in return. But I feel that I have also created a habit of ignoring the God that has pursued me since I was born. So what now?

This is an unfinished and ongoing thought process. Thanks for taking the ride with me. :)

From Generation to Generation

I have always struggled with Genesis 19. The two biggest questions I have are 1) How could Lot offer his two daughters to a huge group of sex hungry men? and 2) What is UP with the incest?!

The Bible doesn't judge people for their actions. The Bible reports the events. So there is no way to fully understand why Lot would offer his daughters to a group of sex-crazed men. Because we seem to only get the bare facts of the story, there are a number of reasons Lot could have done this.

First of all, it was custom during that time to protect guests at any cost. By offering his daughters in their place, maybe Lot had an escape plan. Maybe he hoped his daughter's fiancees would come to their rescue. Maybe he thought the men wouldn't be interested in the women because they were homosexuals. However none of these excuses sit well with me as a daughter and as a woman.

Lot and his family were living in a town that was overpowered by sin which is why God sent two angels to destroy the city. Soddom was so despicable it wasn't worth saving. Lot had allowed himself to succumb to the pressures of his culture instead of abiding by the laws of the Lord. So then the question is raised, "How am I allowing the pressures of the world around me depict the decisions I make on a daily basis?" I saw "how" because I am doing it. Many of us are.

Now for the question of incest. Part of me thinks, *Why does this story need to be here? I don't really want to read about two sisters having sex with their father.* But there is a reason. And incest is an issue in today's culture so of course it needed to addressed.

This part of the story is yet another example of how we can let sin in and it changes who we are and what we do. It's sad, but Lot passed on his lack of moral control to his daughters. The daughter's wanted to preserve their father's blood line and they thought sleeping with him was their only option. They weren't driven by lust, they were driven be desperation. Lot should have found his daughter's husbands a long time before this and heck, Abraham's family wasn't that far away.

Once again, this story gives us the facts so understanding why the sisters did this is hard. It also appears as if they went unpunished for their sin. However the two sons that are born are Moab, father of the Moabites of today and Ben-Ammi, father of the Ammonites of today. The Moabites and Ammonites are Israel's greatest enemies. Perhaps this is how God dealt with the sins of the sisters.

There is a cliche, the sins of our fathers are passed down for generations. This is true with abuse, racism etc. It's also true here in the context of this story.

-Abraham found favor in God's eyes and pleaded for Lot's life to be spared when God sent two angels to destroy the city.

-Lot was a weak man who cared more about his power and wealth than following God, yet God spared his life and his daughter's lives.

-Lot's daughters, following in their father's footsteps, acted out in desperation and fear and bore two sons that became the fathers of two enemies of Israel.

-Due to a family connection, Moses was forbidden to attack either of these nations.

-Ruth was a great grandmother of David and an ancestor of Jesus; yet she was a Moabite.

Of course you are free to draw your own conclusions. But I see a pattern which shows God's mercy to us as sinners and how He can make anything into something that will glorify His Kingdom.

Too Busy Not To Pray

by Bill Hybles

This was a very good book and I'm extremely glad Jon suggested I read it. I've struggled with prayer, um, my whole life. Sometimes I'm "good" at it. Sometimes I'm "bad" at it. But what does it mean to be "good" at prayer anyways? Does it mean we should get on a schedule? Same time same place every day? Does it mean we should have a step by step itinerary? Does it mean we should be praying "all the time" because life is so busy we don't have the luxury of being able to sit down for 10 or 15 minutes? This book goes into all these little details and more. But in pieces. Chapters. Bite size pieces.

My goal was to read one chapter a day which meant it should have taken me 15 days to read this. But of course, some days I missed my quiet time and then a few weeks went by when I had just a few chapters left to finish the book. Normally, I would have felt guilty for putting my quiet times on the back burner which then would have caused me to stay even farther away from my quiet times so I wouldn't disappoint myself anymore. Instead, this time I made the decision to sit down and write a prayer. It felt different writing it rather than thinking it, whispering it or saying it out loud. It was short and I felt guilty because I didn't know what to say. I wasn't feeling emotional or extremely passionate about talking to God or writing in general. So I kept it simple and blunt, confessing that I had been a bad friend. I asked for forgiveness not out of guilt but because the only way my heart could begin to open back up was to confess the most obvious wall standing between me and God.

I have learned so much these past few months about the "wrong" and "right" ways to do prayer. I learned there is a right way. And there is a wrong way. If you are struggling in any way with prayer, if you can relate to anything I have just said or you simply have questions in regards to prayer, I highly recommend this book. There are also study questions after each chapter to help you meditate on what you read or to be used in a small group. I hope you get as much out of this book as I did, if not more.

Too Busy Not to Pray is sprinkled heavily with Bible verses that are easily related to the situations presented in the text. Bill Hybels is currently the founder and senior past of Willow Creek Church in South Beach, Illinois. This church has an average attendance of over 17,000 people every week. Their mission statement has much to do with the phrase, "people matter to God." Their mission statement says,

"Willow is committed to carrying on Christ’s mission by reaching out to those who are far from God, coaching those who follow Christ by equipping them for their spiritual journey, and unleashing unprecedented levels of compassion and justice into our broken world."

God, You Must Do Your Part

I didn't expect the tears. I watched a few tv shows, did some cross stitch, had dessert and a beer or two. The usual routine before bed. On my way upstairs to the bathroom I sometimes like to check on Evan and see how he's doing. Like any other mom, I adore watching him when he sleeps. Tonight, I noticed he had moved a head down from his pillow and his pajama pant legs were rolled up to his knees. I picked up the blanket to cover him fully as he scrunched himself into a tight ball while holding a closed seal around his thumb. I have been finding subtle similarities between Evan and I lately. Tonight, it was in the way he sleeps. That same ball is the one I curl up in over and over again in the night.

I did my bathroom thing and was immediately in bed ready for a night of bliss so I could wake up and see what the weekend would hold. However my heart wasn't quite ready to let go of what was in the room a few feet from mine. It's as if the older he gets, the more I want to hold on. It seems like it was just a few months ago he was a tiny baby in my arms who didn't do much other than poop, sleep and eat (probably in that order). But now he is just about to turn three. His head is so big it seems he can't always control it yet his legs and torso remain closer to the ground and he gets mistaken for a new two year old more often than not. But God has made him sweet. Evan's heart is tender and he can be quite bashful when meeting new people. At other times he's a clown, the life of the party and sometimes downright bossy.

As I was going over all this surrounded by the quiet darkness of my room, my chest began to swell and my eyes burned. I don't want to give him up tomorrow. I hate having to share him. Not to say his dad is a bad guy. He's a very good guy and he loves Evan tremendously. But I wish different things for my firstborn son. I don't know what it's like to have to jump between two families and neither does his dad. Doubling up on everything is all Evan will ever know.

I told Evan tonight, before bed, that I thank God every day for him because God gave him to me. I truly believe that. However Evan is still going to have to live with my past sins for the rest of his life. By this time the tears were flowing freely and I knew I needed to let God in on this. I'm so sad. Selfishly I'm sad for me. But more, I'm sad for him. In that moment I knew God was sharing my pain. He feels it too because Evan is close to his heart as we all are in individual ways. You love him, Lord. And you must take care of him. You have to do your part. I will do the best I can to raise him right. But you have to do your part too.

I know God doesn't need me telling Him what to do. But I had to let it out. I want Evan to be happy and healthy. I don't want him to resent anyone for his upbringing. I vowed when Evan was a baby to raise him with values that follow God. And I will. I do. But the small fear remains. What if he doesn't say yes?

A Time for Anger

A couple hours ago now Ciara Cruz (Ceina's mother), sent me a long and terrible text regarding Jonathan. I have never felt such anger course through my body. I felt hot and my stomach twisted inside as I pressed send with trembling fingers. Ciera answered my call on the second try and I yelled at the top of my lungs, "Don't you ever send a text like that to my phone again!" With each word my anger mounted and she tried to explain but before she got a word out I yelled again, "I don't care. You have something to say you say it to him on his phone. I don't ever want a - a - a text like that sent to my phone again!" And I hung up. My body was trembling, my hands were shaking and I was breathing quick, short breaths which matched my racing heart. All that would calm me down was Jon holding me close. He was quiet, calm and a steady rock to my pounding heart. I leaned into him, breathing slowly, trying to control the quick short intakes my body wanted to produce.

Should I have yelled at her? I'm not too sure. She somehow sent those texts to my phone on accident from what I understand. I know that accidents like that happen - however they don't happen often. She should have been more careful and thus made a bad mistake today. For the next hour and a half she called Jon and I multiple times. She continued to send Jon terrible texts and sent me texts telling me to stay out of their business.

I am feeling much more calm now. The storm has passed and I was able to ask God to send her some Heavenly Help. I didn't spend much time on that prayer mind you; but God heard it all the same. Tomorrow morning Ciera is dropping Ciena off at my house because she did not get a sitter for the hearing tomorrow morning. I pray that God gives me wisdom to allow the Holy Spirit to be alive during that exchange.

But seriously...I don't think I have ever been so angry in my entire life.

It's All Hit and Miss Lately

Well it's a Thursday, our designated Date Night. It was a little different since we had a dinner/interview with who may possibly become one of Jon's professors next semester. I was pretty tired after dinner since I had an 8-hr work day already but since it was Date Night and we had been talking about going east coast dancing for almost a month now, we went dancing.

The lesson was fun and Jon was so cute in his red polo. ;) It was my first formal swing lesson so it was good for me too. After the lesson we sat and watched all the pretty people and their smooth moves. Jon FINALLY asked me to dance! :p However within 10 minutes we were both frustrated. Well, maybe I was the one frustrated. Who knows. Either way, we couldn't seem to get our feet right and were mostly awkward together. Maybe I expected too much and maybe he was nervous.

So why is something as simple as dancing turning into a stressful event? Well, it could be that we are stressed out and it's coming through in what should be a fun evening together.

It was a little after 10 and I was ready to move on from dancing. It just didn't seem fun anymore. We debated on having a drink before leaving and after much deliberation we had some tequila chased down with a cold beer. Yuuummm. So, since we're just sitting there sipping away, Jon decides to try and figure out why we are so stressed out in seemingly every area of our lives. This then led to much venting on my part.

Many of you know I had coffee with Ciena's mom a few days ago. Since then I have talked to her every day. Is this a God thing? I think so. But what I realized tonight is that I feel good after talking to her even though it's only for a few minutes. Do you know why? Well let me tell you. It's because she is someone to talk to about my day whether it's about work or what I have going on that day. It's kind of weird right? Yeah, well Jon thinks so too.

After having coffee I was surprised by how many people sent me a text asking me how it went. It meant people cared and remembered. Why is that so surprising to me?

I'm soooo frustrated lately. I feel like I'm reaching out for relationships in different ways and nothing seems to stick. Every week at church I wonder if I will make a new friend during the greeting time. So far no luck. Friday nights are supposed to be double date nights. However if we can't find other people to go out with, well, it's not much of a double date is it?

A few nights ago Jon and I really needed to relax, laugh and talk about meaningless things in life. So we tried to get ahold of some people to come over to play games and share some margaritas. The options in my phone book were limited and no one was available - it was short notice I know. I also understand that I am feeling sorry for myself right now. Oh well.

We have friends, don't get me wrong. But it's totally hit and miss. And it's not that him and I need friends, it's that I need someone to vent to or talk to or whatever. Why is it that I am the one always initiating? Jon and I have a great time together. I love going dancing with him. I love it when he takes me out. I love it when we take the kids swimming. But I feel strongly that we both need an outlet with other people.

Maybe We Should Laugh A Little More

I know what it means to come along side someone and take some of their hardships onto my own shoulders. I know this because my own shoulders ache and my chest doesn't seem to get as much oxygen as it should. What keeps me going is the hope I have in Christ that if we can hang on for a few more months the doorway of a venomous oppression will be forcibly closed.

Most of the time I try to ignore the evil that can so easily trap us into the cell of hatred. But now Jon and I are faced with an unashamed hatred on a daily basis. It isn't the insults that bother me. It's the constance of them. We can't escape. I must not be so strong in my faith because I allow one person's selfish desperation to erase my smile, quiet my laughter and harden my heart towards what is true and good.

So I pray. I pray that God draws her to Him. I pray for wisdom and strength for Jon and myself. And I remind myself to laugh. I'm learning to have fun even with the seemingly mundane tasks such as running Evan through Macy's to the restroom or laughing as I watch Ciena splashing and spitting as Jon calmly continues to giver her direction on how to swim properly. This is what we need to hang on to and in these moments I feel my shoulders relax and I let out a deep sigh of contentment.