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Archive for the ‘The Hubby’ Category

Hubby and I … well, it is probably best said that opposites attract.

We have differing points of view on everything from coffee shops, to music, to movies, to politics, to child rearing, to chocolate (he says milk and I say dark). These different perspectives can leave us frustrated, angry and even with hurt feelings. What they don’t do is ignite hate for each other.

What we share together is far greater than on what we differ. Oh, the differing can be immensely challenging and even hurtful, but we share a life-guiding principle …

we love one another

The concept of loving one another came from the mouth and heart of Jesus, himself. It was while sitting around a table with his eleven (Judas had already stepped away … in more ways than just physically stepping away), that Jesus commanded them to love one another.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:34-35)

This loving each other was as foreign a concept then, as it is now. Like today, when people eliminate or unfriend people who think differently than us, society in the time of Jesus was also more about about assimilation than about community or love.

The Matthew Henry Commentary (MHC), on this love one another passage says,

“Laws of revenge and retaliation were so much in vogue, and self-love had so much the ascendant (superiority), that the law of brotherly love was forgotten as obsolete and out of date; so that as it came from Christ new, it was new to the people.”

So when Jesus delivered this command (not a suggestion, but a command) it was counter culture, odd and new. It could have been dismissed completely had he not given them a model to follow … himself.

Jesus told them to love each other “as I have loved you.”

Each one sitting there, listening to him speak would know, by their experience and intimate knowledge of life with him, how high the bar was that Jesus had set for them.

As the MHC says, of his example of what it is to love one another:

“He spoke kindly to them, concerned himself heartily for them, and for their welfare, instructed, counselled, and comforted them, prayed with them and for them, vindicated them when they were accused, took their part when they were run down, and publicly owned them to be dearer to him that his mother, or sister, or brother. He reproved them for what was amiss, and yet compassionately bore with their failings, excused them, made the best of them, and passed by many an oversight. Thus he had loved them, and just now washed their feet; and thus they must love one another, and love to the end. “

This is what we are called to, as well.

None of this would have been a surprise to the disciples, anymore than it should be a surprise to us, today.

Jesus did not give up on his disciples. He did not unfriend, nor did he cease to love each and every one (Judas included), right up to the end … his end on the cross. For he died for us all, even if we do not choose to accept his leadership in our lives.

To differ does not have to mean that we hate. If we declare that we follow the example of Jesus, there is not place for hate if we are committed to love one another.

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June has traditionally been the month of weddings. The weather is warmer, but not hot. The days are longer. Outdoor photographs are more beautiful with gardens at their peek of beauty.

We got to attend a wedding a few weeks ago and I found myself feeling rather broody.

Just days before hubby had received a letter informing him that he is no longer licensed in our home province to officiate weddings. Though that letter’s communication was the equivalent of water off a duck’s back, for hubby, it initiated an unexpected mourning for me.

I could unashamedly brag about the way he conducted weddings over the years.

He would take the position of intermediary, between the bride and groom and … anyone who could make the event stressful, in the most gracious yet firm manner.

The message that he would share would be one that was agonizingly prepared to represent the couple, from what he knew of them and what he had learned through the premarital sessions.

Then there was the ceremony, personalized as the couple chose, for he was committed that it would reflect them.

My personal favorite part of the weddings that he officiated were how he made the pronouncement … “by the power given me by the province of —-, but, more importantly, by God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, I pronounce you husband and wife.” It just always made me smile.

So I sat at the wedding, just a few days ago, missing his ceremony, what he did so well, each part conscientiously planned and executed, always bringing the message back to the original installation of marriage.

As I got home from that wedding I got to thinking about how, in the Bible, marriage is used as a parable for Christ (the bridegroom) and the Church (the bride). As husband and wife become one, so too the Church and Christ become one … this is the “mystery” spoken of in Ephasians 5:32.

When a couple marry, their unifying is actually a re-unifying, since woman came from man’s body. Adam, meaning earth, and Eve, meaning life … woman literally puts life into the man, from whom she came. For woman to have life, she was taken from man, marriage is the redeeming of that physical separation at Creation, and the two, once again, become one.

The work of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, to the grave and resurrection is also a redeeming of relationship. From the very beginning God intended that we, his church, would be one with him … and then sin happened. Christ, through his sacrifice, brought the church back to him … and the two, once again, become one.

As I pondered this metaphor I realized that though I was feeling sorrowful for this end to hubby being such an amazingly talented part of the union of souls, this story goes on. In the hands of God himself, who officiates the most spectacular of marriages of souls, back to himself.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek,
there is neither slave nor free, 
there is no male and female,
for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

Galatians 3:28

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Just a regular day, with not an exceptional occurrence, yet something was rising within me, and a smile grew across my face … as I watched him walking just ahead of me.

In just hours he would be doing something he has not for so many months, after being lain flat, too weak to participate in so much of life and living. Now, though, was the eve of a return to a regular living activity.

And I was bursting with pride, with joy for all that he has accomplished, for his making it to this point in healing. Thankful to God that he has made it and that he was beginning to thrive.

It made me think of him when I first met him, when he was full to overflowing with the vim and vigor of life, of youth. When his energy, his time and his desire to do, to go, to experience was endless. When he invited me in to look ahead, to dream.

And here he was, about to start something new …

So much loss, so much grief in that season. Over a year of struggles that encapsulated every part of life and living for him … and for those of us closest to him. Struggles to move, to think, to communicate, to focus, to worship … to stay awake.

The hows and whys faded as the pride rose within me. He persevered, he fought (every day) … he overcame.

And here we were, on the threshold of a new challenge … because he can do it.

So many days, months, years really, of fighting to keep your head afloat, and now you have something to look forward to. I am so proud of how far you have come, and that you persevered through this dark night … may there be joy in the morning.

Psalm 30

I will extol You, O Lord, for You have lifted me up,
And have not let my foes rejoice over me.
O Lord my God, I cried out to You,
And You healed me.
O Lord, You brought my soul up from the grave;
You have kept me alive, that I should not go down to the pit.

Sing praise to the Lord, you saints of His,
And give thanks at the remembrance of His holy name.
For His anger is but for a moment,
His favor is for life;
Weeping may endure for a night,
But joy comes in the morning.

Now in my prosperity I said,
“I shall never be moved.”
Lord, by Your favor You have made my mountain stand strong;
You hid Your face, and I was troubled.

I cried out to You, O Lord;
And to the Lord I made supplication:
“What profit is there in my blood,
When I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise You?
Will it declare Your truth?
Hear, O Lord, and have mercy on me;
Lord, be my helper!”

You have turned for me my mourning into dancing;
You have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness,
To the end that my glory may sing praise to You and not be silent.
O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.

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It was a bad day (days, weeks) when I felt a sadness that was so … profound. It filled all of me, right down to my soul, darkening even the light of life within me.

The reason for this profound sadness is far less important than the salve, the comfort that was given in response to it’s presence.

My hubby is a great guy, who is always eager to help myself or our kids. He will always drop what he is doing to help us out.

Here’s the thing … he does not like or know what to do with tears. This has, at times been a problem, for a wife and two daughters with enough estrogen to produce oceans of tears. So, I simply do not (generally) allow tears to fall in his presence (not that I am a frequent crier).

On this particular day, when the sadness was so heavy, so profound, I flopped onto the bed, hoping to catch a Sunday nap beside hubby.

The thing was that I could no longer keep the sadness in, and it began pouring from my eyes, unstoppable sobs rattling my entire body. The grief of my sadness emanating from the sorrow within me.

All of a sudden strong and loving arms reached out and around me, surrounding me in comfort and care. He kissed the top of my head, holding me tight.

I lay there, wrapped in loving arms and wet from my tears, for unknown minutes.

No wordy solutions to fix my unfixable, no platitudes … just the comfort from one, giving out of weakness, to one who felt weak.

His actions were like bandages for my broken heart. He didn’t try to make it all better, he just reminded me that I was worth it. He was Jesus, with skin on, to me that day.

He heals the brokenhearted,
and bandages their wounds.

Psalm 147:3

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If we are growing and maturing, our definition of love changes as we grow older.

From when we are children and love could be defined as who makes us feel secure by meeting our needs, to when we become teens, then young adults and love could be defined as who makes us feel unconditionally accepted, special. Then, as adults, it is all about is he/she meeting my needs.

Hum … no change there really, as it would seem to be defined by what have you done for me lately.

At the mid point of life, if love is still part of your life, if marriage is still part of your life, it starts to change (ever so   g  r  a  d  u  a  l  l  y ).

It becomes more about maintaining each other, caring for each other.

A number of weeks ago I came across this quote by Ann Voskamp:

“Love is always
inconvenient
inefficient
indestructible” 

Not a quote one would expect to hear at a wedding ceremony! Yet, for those who have persevered through love, for love, that quote is real, truth.

We have persevered, hubby and I. Not just hubby, not just I, but both of us, in little and big ways. It has been twenty-nine years (tomorrow) of persevering through love, for love.

Twenty-nine years of inconvenient love. Love that has gotten in the way of our individual interests, love that has been daily overriding individual interests, as we each bend and sway to the other, for the other. For the individual cannot survive in love without sacrificing for the other.

Twenty-nine years of inefficient love. Love that is not slick and polished, but often unproductive and amateurish. Love that doesn’t often work like a well-oiled machine, but often one that requires time adjusting, adjusting, adjusting. So many kinks to work out … and usually, they are not his, but mine.

Twenty-nine years of … how does one say, until at the very end, that it is indestructible love? Though the definition of what love is may change, it is proven only in it’s longevity, it’s indestructiblity. Grit (a determination that is strong-willed and to the end) in love is the major ingredient determining whether or not it is indestructible.

Though it is not flowery or romantic sounding, I’d take the real thing … inconvenient, inefficient, indestructible love … twenty-nine years and counting.

“Love is never wasted, for its value does not rest upon reciprocity.”
CS Lewis

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Screen Shot 2018-07-31 at 8.50.57 AMMarriage should never be boring … right?

So, I recently learned something about my hubby of nearly twenty-nine years, and it all started with an invite to a shower (no, not a bridal shower … the one in the bathroom) … is that too much information? Probably … oh well …

So, he was heading to the shower and I said, quite innocently, “can I pop in too?”

His response was … typical (I am NOT going to define that), followed by a shocking comment, “as long as you don’t wear that shower cap”.

Truly the floor fell out from beneath my feet.

I mean I had just gotten it (new house, new shower cap) and it was so nice to replace the one with the broken elastic that could easily have been replaced with a Ziplock freezer bag, with better results.

What followed was a hysterical conversation about how … uninspiring my (pretty) (new) (practical) shower cap was, in his eyes.

This was a breath-of-fresh air, humorous sharing that felt so good … so … not serious.

Sometimes marriage can become all about the decisions, the hard stuff, the heart-breaking stuff, the mundane stuff. Sometimes marriage just needs laughter that is inspired by something unimportant and silly. Sometimes marriage just needs giggles about something that no one else would understand. That laughter is from a place that is deeper and more intimate than any other words or act.

“Live happily with the woman (man) you love
through all the meaningless days of life
that God has given you under the sun.
The wife (hubby) God gives you
is your reward for all your earthly toil.”
Ecclesiastes 9:9

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As I bent to look into the oven, I closed my eyes, and whispered, prayerfully, “please let them at least look like Yorkshire Pudding” 

and they did!

Only twenty-eight plus years into our marriage, I finally made a roast beef dinner to write home about (and not with laughing emojis, either).

To make a roast beef dinner has always been an anxiety-ridden attempt for me.

First, because is is hubby’s most favourite meal … ever!

Second, because I did not grow up eating roast beef and Yorkshire Pudding.

Third, because hubby has taken me to homes where the perfection of the roast beef dinner would make Julia Child weep like a baby. I mean how can a woman possibly compete with the culinary expertise of women with wrinkles, calloused hands and support hose?

It’s not that I am a novice in the kitchen. As a matter of fact, my turkey dinners are pretty amazing (if I do say so, myself), complete with stuffing that makes even the most disciplined diner, undo the bottom on their pants), I make a chicken curry that makes one’s taste buds sing in Eastern dialects, and I can create the most tasty hamburgers themed Mexican, traditional, Greek and Italian.

But roast beef success had failed to be mine.

This weekend I so wanted to make his taste buds dance. I knew that the only way to this man’s heart is beef gravy poured into stiff, well-raised Yorkshire Puddings, so I determined to win this man’s full attention with a culinary miracle.

I did what any (desperate) woman would do in my place … I Googled:

“melt in your mouth roast beef”
“Yorkshire Pudding for dummies”

And I did exactly what they told me to do.

And it worked!

Those Yorkshire Puddings stood more than an inch over the rim of the muffin tins (in the past they were never even visible at the rim). The beef so tender and juicy. The gravy  was the icing on the … Pudding.

Ah, now I can fully and confidently walk, with my head held high, on the arm of my well-fed hubby.

 

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