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Man of Sacrifice

Man of Sacrifice

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The other day my husband turned to me and asked, “How is it that every day you get more and more beautiful?” I smiled and replied, “Because I love you so much.”

Awwww. So sweet right? My husband is the best. And I am proud of my comparison to Sarah. That’s me so devoted to my husband and God, that I am blessed with great beauty… a princess.

The next morning I awoke, shaking away a strange dream. My husband and I were on a train, and I was sitting beside him, but pretending to sleep while he chatted with another passenger (my husband is the kind of man who has never known a stranger and seems to have a life goal to talk to every person on earth.) At some point the passenger points to me and makes a comment about my beauty and my husband tells him that I’m his sister.

Weird. I think God is trying to tell me something…  I reflect on the book I’m currently reading “This Crazy Little Thing Called Marriage” by Greg and Erin Smalley, and how at the last group meeting when we were discussing our husbands’ spiritual leadership one of the leaders asked everyone to describe their husband’s character with one word. I chose the word “sacrifice.” It was the first thing that came to mind, as my husband will constantly sacrifice himself, his dreams, his desires, for me, for his children. But after I said it aloud, I internally kicked myself because there were like a hundred “better” words I could have chosen. Or were there?

I know many of you are probably smarter than me and get things right away, but I can be kind of stubborn, so sometimes I have to be told things a hundred times before I listen…

My husband and I are in a spiritual struggle right now, fighting for our family and our children. I tend to get pretty heated over the entire thing, because of my past. Great fear enters my mind for my husband’s children because I constantly picture them going through the struggles that I had while I was living with the consequences of my parents divorce. The thoughts, the actions, the words, the tears–all of it floods my memory. And I ache for their broken hearts. I know I’m not their biological mother, but I want so bad to save them from pain, to take on their pain so they don’t have to feel it. I love them with a love I never thought possible, even though they don’t even know me! And I want to save them from going through the same destructive years I lived in depression, fear, bitterness, and hatred. I want them to know nothing but love and happiness.

We got some bad news concerning the struggle and I was devastated. I tried to hide my tears from my husband. I tried to logically find a way to change our circumstances. But then I just broke down and cried out to God, demanding to know why everything keeps going wrong. Where are your promises?! Where is our victory?!

God replied by pointing out several things to me:

1.) Do YOUR Job.

It seems like I’m forever having this conversation with God:

“Stop trying to do MY job. You’re terrible at it.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?”

“Your Job.”

“Which is what?”

“Wait.”

Sigh. “But I want to DO something!”

“Well, wait for me to finish doing my job and then I’ll tell you what needs to be done next.”

“OK.”

And then I start trying to meddle again because I don’t feel like anything is being done, and it starts all over again.

2.) Remember Your Story

I am often prompted with the question “How did your story end? You’ll have to hear my entire Salvation story another time, but the short version is that I’m alive today because someone interceded for me.  Anytime I question the power of prayer, God seems to bring that up… me being living proof and all.

3.) You’re not as spiritual as you think you are.

I often get a little high horsey, when it comes to the subject. I got saved when I was 8, and had an undeniable salvation story when I was 15. I’ve spent most of my life studying scripture, and have lived a relatively “spotless” life. Sometimes, it seems to intimidate my husband. He heralds me as the “prayer warrior” and lets me do all the praying, talking, leading Bible Study groups, and giving advice. So, I can tend to get so caught up in myself, I forget that my husband is the leader. I mean, looking at my resume, aren’t I the more “qualified” candidate? Um. No. Actually not. My husband has much greater faith than I do. Like Abraham. Abraham, the “Father of Faith.”

4.) You can’t steal HIS story.

I never really thought of it that way… but the logic is solid. It’s like trying to parent your kids by putting them in a plastic bubble. You can’t keep them from every bad thing. Even if you did, they wouldn’t be able to live a fulfilled life. My story comes from my deepest, darkest moments. Those are the moments when God shines through. You can try to keep your children from every type of harm; but doing so will also keep them from their purpose, their destiny. Because God turns pain into purpose. We are driven by our experiences. Without the moments that cause us to call out for God, we live like we have no need of Him. I can’t steal my husband’s story, or my children’s stories; I can only live out my own and allow God to write theirs.

 

So, to sum it up, after three consecutive messages I received it: God thinks my husband is strong like Abraham. I should too. I see the evidence every day. One of the greatest stories of Abraham is his willingness to sacrifice Issac for the Lord. One day my husband’s legacy will be similar–having to be willing to lose his son in order to save him.

It’s important to note that God never expected Abraham to actually sacrifice his son, God was interested in Abraham’s heart. God judges us by our heart, not our actions. God is interested in the why not the what. So, if you’re going to be like Sarah, be the Sarah who grew more beautiful everyday for respecting her husband. Don’t be the Sarah who freaked out when Abraham left to make a sacrifice with her only son, likely traumatizing herself with her thoughts–that ended up being totally off the mark. Trust your God. And trust your husband. Your husband is well-intentioned and acting on his heart. Chances are your husband is scared to death of what he is doing, he just has more faith than you in the final outcome.

The thing about Loneliness is…

The thing about Loneliness is…

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On Saturday mornings my husband and I attend a prayer service at our church where 45 minutes is dedicated to praying over the prayer requests of the congregation. Those little 2×3 cards can really put things into perspective–death, job loss, addiction, severed relationships, the list goes on and on. You may be struggling in your own life; but you are not alone. Reading those cards reminds you of that–you are not alone.

Many times I pick up cards that I can personally relate to. It might be a coincidence, but I don’t believe much in coincidence. It is a divine intervention that keeps me grounded and reminds me that I am not alone. And sometimes, it reminds me of where I’ve been and what I’ve already overcome.

Today was one of those days. One of the cards I had picked up just had one word sprawled across it, the letters so large they spanned several lines.

Loneliness

It felt like a kick to the gut. I wanted to find that person and reach out to them, tell them that they are not alone. How could you feel alone, you come to a church with hundreds of members? Many of whom are facing similar struggles. Connect with someone and you won’t have to weather the storm alone.

My conversation with God went something like…

“This church is so large. How could anyone feel alone here? There are so many people to share with, to cry with, to connect with–to weather the storm with. No one has to struggle alone. How can you let this person feel so alone? So, outside the lines they didn’t put their name or any details of what they are going through. There are so many people who want to help. Connect them with someone who is sympathetic to their struggles. Help them to build stronger relationships with their church, friends, and family members. They don’t need to feel lonely anymore. They are not alone. There are so many people…”

“Are you done yet?”

“Wait. What?”

“Don’t you remember what it felt like?”

Ooft. Boy do I ever.

I spent the majority of my life being depressed. Most of which I blamed on my parents for getting divorced and making my childhood a never ending roller-coaster of emotions. As I grew older, the net expanded to include classmates, “so called” friends, extended family, church members–anyone who upset me or excluded me from something. I didn’t feel like I could trust anyone. ANYONE. All these people were throwing rocks at me, and I was picking them up and building a massive wall around my heart. I hated people. People hurt you. I just wanted them all to leave me alone.

Oh.

When I was lost in the depths of loneliness, people did try to help me. But I didn’t let them. Funny thing about those rocks… when your friends see that you are building something and they want to help they go foraging for materials.  They see you need more rocks, so they throw you some. Your friends start throwing rocks to you. Not at you to you.

The thing about loneliness is that it can’t simply be solved by more social interaction with people. Loneliness is an internal struggle. A struggle that has to be won by the heart and mind of the one who created it. You have to learn to change your view of the people around you, by first learning to change your view of yourself.

And start building a castle instead of a wall. Castles are cooler and you can invite your friends inside, so no one else feels excluded.

P.S. There are always going to be those people who do throw rocks at you. Best not to let yourself be bothered by it. Thank them for the building material. Chances are one day they are going to regret that they gave away everything they had in anger, leaving them with nothing; while you’ve built an awesome castle.