Tuesday & Wednesday, October 22-23, 2014
We had a good weekend, but it had it’s tough points.
On Monday, we shared a hug which I ruined by singing Faithfully by Journey – you know like when a moment is serious and I act like a nervous 7th grader? It wasn’t a moment for levity, I guess. I didn’t upset you, but I think what we needed was just a quiet hug.
On Tuesday, we had such a hug. Quiet. Close. Simple.
We needed it. It meant a lot. We’re going through a stressful time right now that both of us want to deal with but we’re at a loss at the moment with just how to do so.
But we are a team. We just need to continue to grow as one.
I don’t have time – due to lack of breathing room – to go find a link so that folks can find the sermon series by Andy Stanley at North Point Community Church.
But he did one on ‘Breathing Room’ (which seemed to be something similar to his old series on ‘Margin’).
It simply is that we need margin in our schedules, minds, and budgets for relationships.
I need to do a better job at carving the time to focus… not just be a warm body somewhere in the room. To be fully there with you and the kids.
I admit I’m consumed with worry right now. Most of it is around having no margin at work and in other areas.
Please give me some grace. And, by the way, I need you and your wisdom to help me here. I try really hard to avoid stressing you out, but sometimes I need you to help me destress so that I can help us not have so much stress.
Make sense? I didn’t think so, but I think you get the picture.
I wrote a few weeks ago that you’re going through it a bit these days. Well, things keep going and I know today has been tough.
I’m praying for you. I’m praying that not only will you be protected emotionally and mentally, but that God will use you during this time.
I pray for myself. I pray that I give you what you need from me right now.
I pray for healing and redemption.
I pray that your increasing strength will be a source of deepening in our marriage.
We float a bit much sometimes. These challenges will grow us.
I’m so cryptic! 🙂
This is what I know: Suffering produces perseverance. Perseverance produces character. And character producers hope.
Hope DOES NOT disappoint us. If we focus on the Hope, we can push through whatever pain or struggle or stress we might experience.
I know it’s a little pollyanna, but I’m cool with that. I’d rather be pollyanna than try to find rest in worry and stress and fear and frustration.
The selfish part of me is that some of these issues are reminders of things in my past. But my role is not to sit in old stuff, but to be present for you right now.
Why am I writing this right now?!?
Well, I love you. You are a gift. Right now, my heart breaks for you.
Right now, your heart is breaking a little over something that is going on.
You question if you’ve handled things well. You’re hurting for a few other folks involved. You’re trying not to allow resentment and anger at others rule you.
I’m honestly at a loss for how to help you. I want to give you rest from it and a little distraction. I want to give you whatever wisdom I can. I want to listen.
My biggest prayer is for our family. That the five of us are protected and cared for. I pray for wisdom for me how best to lead us right now.
I pray for you. That you know and don’t forget Ps. 139:14
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful. I know that full well.
Like all of us–even me right now, you forget that you have been crafted. I forget that I was crafted. God made you. God knows your heart. God loves you deeply. You are His, above all else–more than you are mine. More than anybody’s words have power over you. You are His. His Words are the words that matter.
His Words say that you are a daughter of God.
His Words say that you were called out.
His Words say that you no longer live, but Christ lives in you.
His Words say that the meek will inherit the earth.
His Words can heal–want to heal.
You are special beyond special. You are precious beyond precious. I, even, am not worthy of the woman that you are. (not that I’m a piece of crap or some out of this world dude–just a guy trying to get better a little every day).
Be with Tina. Speak peace to her heart. Give her strength that she doesn’t think she has.
This might seem obvious, but you asked me two questions yesterday that meant a lot:
- Regarding the test for lymphoma my Dad went through yesterday, you asked me how I was doing with all of that. You said, “You haven’t really talked about it, and I want you to know you don’t have to stuff it down. You can have your moments.”
- You also asked about whether I was still involved in a certain morning ritual I have–one that is very important to me personally and spiritually (I know that’s sufficiently vague to almost sound wierd, but you and I know what I’m talking about).
One area you and I struggle with sometimes: Sharing and asking tough questions.
I’m glad you asked. I’m glad we talked. I’m glad I was able to cry a little with you. Your mom is having knee surgery. My dad is having back issues and this potential other issue. Our parents are getting older. You had a difficult time feeling good about helping our daughter with her. One conversation led to the other.
Anyway… thanks for sweet conversation. I know that should go with marriage, but it doesn’t always.
I love you.
There have been a few events recently that have reminded me how compassionate you are and how soft your heart is. Most notably, my mom got in a car wreck a few days ago.
Nobody got seriously injured, but it was a pretty crazy wreck: tire flew off a car on the other side of the interstate, it bounced on the concrete median and then slammed into the pickup truck my mom was driving. It hit the bar that runs up between the driver side window and the windshield. It busted out the windshield and the back window exploded after the truck came to a stop.
Thankfully, the tire hit where it hit and didn’t hit the windshield head on. That could have been tragic.
So… the way you talked about it and the look on your face over the next couple days when it came up were a comfort to me. I can’t really describe it, but empathy with the fear and the emotino my mom had to have been feeling meant a lot to me.
Thanks for your compassion. It’s part of what I love about you.
Like a lot of these posts (I don’t go back and check to see if I’m revisiting anything too often), I’m having a little deja vu. Who cares.
You keep me from going nuts. Seriously. I don’t know what kind of nuts I’d go–depressed, fetal position nuts; manic put my hand through a wall nuts. There are times when you truly, truly, truly keep me sane.
I’ve had a strangely rough week. I don’t really know why. You’ve been wonderful at just the right times. For some reason, you being outside in the garage with me last night cleaning up that kids’ slide for the garage sale soothed me. We didn’t talk much. You were working your tail off. I was reading old journals. Just being out there with you calmed me.
Thank you and I love you.
Oh yeah, it’s our 6th anniversary on Saturday! Yoo-hoo!