50 Questions for My Future Husband

When I was a young teen, it was popular in my circle of friends to write lists of characteristics we hoped for in a husband someday. Some of our criteria was reasonable, much of it silly. After that time, I began to greatly dislike writing such lists, and I threw all mine away. I didn't like the "grocery shopping" feeling that list-writing gave me. I had experienced the uncomfortable feeling of being likened to a piece of feminine merchandise, up on the shelf next to all the other pretty church girls, so perhaps my intense dislike for petty checklists was more reactionary than it should have been. Even so, I threw out all lists, criteria, and qualifications, and thought no more about it for several years.

In the last year, I realized the practicality of having some clearly defined criteria of what things can or cannot be negotiated when finding a mate. This new appreciation came chiefly out of my dismay as I saw some friends of mine fall for and marry men that were, to put it nicely, losers. These were scrupulous, Christian girls who thought they would be strong and sensible, but had failed to plan ahead and as a result, made the biggest error of their lives.

I'm still not a fan of lists. I hate putting people into a box. I've never liked applications or surveys. But, after many weeks of thinking, praying, and revising, I came up with a list that contained only six simple, non-negotiable items, and two negotiable ones. I'm not posting it here for obvious reasons; it is customized to who I am and what things I value most in this life. It is a list meant to flag non-compatibility in life's biggest issues right from the get-go, thus averting future disaster.

Along the same line, I began thinking about what questions I would want to have answered from my future husband. Here is a list of 50 questions I came up with. I realize many are sober in nature, but wouldn't it be awful to commit your life to someone with some of these things unanswered? There are also some glaring omissions that one might consider essential--questions about salvation, etc. Those fundamental issues are covered in my first list, so are not repeated here. Write your own list of questions that would weigh on your heart until answered. I may not ever use these, but the writing of them helped me shape in my heart and mind the issues that are most important to me as I consider the rest of my life spent in service to the Lord, fully aware that the choices I make in life's biggest arenas will determine a future of either delight or disaster.

50 Questions for My Future Husband

1) If I developed a debilitating mental illness (example: schizophrenia) and became a threat to you or our children, what would you do?

2) If I was in an unresponsive coma, most likely for life, what would you do?

3) Under what circumstances would you seek to divorce me?

4) If I was unable to have children, how would you feel? What would you do?

5) If I died suddenly, what are your plans for taking care of yourself and raising our children? Would you consider remarrying?

6) What do you believe about spanking?

7) If another person was making inappropriate or flirtatious advances on me, how would you want me to go about including you and ending it?

8) What are your expectations for me to keep healthy and beautiful for you, even as my body changes with childbearing? (Weight gain/loss, stretch marks, etc)

9) How important is it to you that I wear makeup, style my hair, and dress attractively?

10) How do you feel about adoption, raising children of different ethnicities, and interracial marriage?

11) If I became disfigured through illness or injury, how would you feel and what would you do?

12) Because of my work history in the medical field, how would you feel if I was ever included in a court case or lawsuit, even years from now?

13) How would we handle the death of one of our children?

14) How will you keep yourself guarded from pornography and other sexual sins, and hold yourself accountable to me (and anyone else)?

15) How important is it to you to pray for your spouse? To pray with your spouse?

16) How important is it to you that we regularly do fun things together that we both enjoy?

17) How do you plan to fulfill your role as provider without sacrificing important time spent with your wife and family?

18) How interested or receptive will you be to making any lifestyle or dietary changes in an effort to make ourselves healthier?

19) What constitutes a “major purchase,” and at what amount of money should both spouses be consulted before a purchase is made?

20) What are your views on credit cards? How do you feel about debt? How much debt are you willing to carry, and for what reasons?

21) What are your views on contraception? Under what circumstances would you consider preventing conception for a time?

22) How important is it to you to have money to spend on your hobbies and interests?

23) How important is it to you that I keep a clean, organized home?

24) Under what circumstances would you be willing to be apart from me and our children for an extended period of time (mission trip, etc.)?

25) How do you plan to implement spiritual leadership in our home, and what can I do to help set up a family discipleship plan that works for us?

26) What do you think about spouses having separate email or social networking accounts?

27) When was a time I’ve ever embarrassed you by my speech, dress, behavior, or other conduct?

28) Have I ever made you feel uncomfortable by how I interact with other men?

29) How should we manage holidays and birthdays with both sides of our family?

30) What is the thing that I might do that would hurt or damage you the most?

31) What kind of secret is justified in being withheld from a spouse?

32) What should I do if I think you’re irritated or angry at something I’ve said or done?

33) How should we use and manage electronic devices and media consumption in our home?

34) How are we going to manage the internet in our home?

35) What will we do if you and I hold differing viewpoints on some Bible doctrines?

36) What would make me unattractive or undesirable to you?

37) What will we do for our parents in their older years when they need care and can no longer live alone?

38) What would you change about me, if you could?

39) What attracted you to me the most?

40) What are you most afraid of?

41) How do you feel about displays of physical affection in public? How much is too much?

42) How do you feel about women speaking up and contributing in church?

43) How would we help if one of our siblings fell on hard financial times?

44) What makes you angry?

45) What gives you the most joy?

46) How do you plan to be involved in the home-schooling of our children?

47) How do you feel about the use of slang, popular catch-phrases, sarcasm, and other irreverent or casual speech in our home?

48) What are your thoughts on owning pets or livestock?

49) How do you understand your role in carrying out the Great Commission with your God-given gifts and 

personality? 

50) What is your love language (the best way for me to communicate my love for you)?

After Captivity, the Lions' Den

From an email to the girls, as I start the book of Daniel.
----------------------------
Today I read from Daniel 1-6.

In the third year of the reign of Jehoiakim king of Judah, Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon came to Jerusalem and besieged it. ² And the Lord gave Jehoiakim king of Judah into his hand . . . [and he brought out] some of the people of Israel . . . ⁴ youths without blemish, of good appearance and skillful in all wisdom, endowed with knowledge, understanding learning, and competent to stand in the king's palace . . . ⁶ Among these were Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah of the tribe of Judah.

But Daniel resolved that he would not defile himself with the king's food, or with the wine that he drank. Therefore he asked the chief of the eunuchs to allow him not to defile himself. ⁹ And God gave Daniel favor and compassion in the sight of the chief of the eunuchs,

¹⁷ As for these four youths, God gave them learning and skill in all literature and wisdom, and Daniel had understanding in all visions and dreams.

Daniel and his companions were likely around your age when their world was turned upside down and they were captured and deported to a foreign pagan country. Imagine their despair. God had turned over their nation to the Babylonians. The Lord himself had turned away his face from Israel and ignored the cries of these terrified young men who were chained and taken away from the only world they had ever known. They surely had fathers, siblings, and dear friends who had been slaughtered or captured as well. They were afraid, stricken with grief, and facing a future of complete unknowns.

You and I will probably not face a trial of this scale in our lifetimes. These young men either already knew--or soon learned--that God often allows terrible tragedies to occur that he might make his power and glory manifest through the difficult circumstances. He does not send the evil happenings--all bad things are caused by sin and the devil's global agenda of destruction--but God does turn such chaos into order and glory. He uses the pain as a refining fire. He uses the fear as a means to grow an iron-strong faith and dependency on his provision and providential will.

You will face difficult times. It is inevitable in this world. No one passes through without scars of one kind or another, without the marks of a lifelong struggle with sin and death. But, as a favorite author of mine says when writing on evil and suffering and the love of God [and this is not an exact quote], "God is not so much concerned as to what exactly the difficult thing is that you are going through; His concern is how you are going through it, what you are learning, what truths your heart is drinking in, what falsehoods it is purging out, what sins you are crucifying, what God you are faithfully trusting, and how you will come out of the fiery trial of testing."

Daniel was in Babylon. You are in your homes, here in a modern country, thousands of years after Daniel's life. But take both a sober warning and a joyous hope from Daniel's life--the dark days will come, and they may last longer than you think you can bear, but like Daniel, you can keep your vision narrowed on the Lord and constantly cast your weary soul before him. After the captivity may come the lions' den. But the end of the saints who persevere is a glorious crown of righteousness, and not only a heavenly reward, but even here below, a sense of joy and contentment, because this life is viewed in its proper place on the timeline of eternity: small and fleeting, but paving the way to the fulfillment of all hope.

Goodnight, sweet girls!

Saved So Young

Hello, dear girls! [This is Day #150 of emailing daily, by the way!]

Tonight I'm reading from Psalm 69-71.

"O God, from my youth you have taught me,
    and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds.
¹⁸ So even to old age and gray hairs,
    O God, do not forsake me,
until I proclaim your might to another generation,
    your power to all those to come."

You and I have the immense privilege of being raised in Christian homes and having been saved early in life. If only we fully understood and appreciated the years of grief we've been spared by having such a wonderful start! It is, of course, not a default that we can just "coast along" through life on our parents' coattails of faith; no, we have to sweat and bleed and work and feel the pain of claiming the cross of Christ as our own. At the end of the day, it is each of us, alone, in the Colosseum, dared to deny our Lord. No wimpy church-camp religion here, girls. But at the same time, we have been given the gift of a Lamp to our paths so early in the journey, the right Word of truth to guide us from all lies--think of all those people out stumbling in the world, unable to discern truth from error, unsure of which way is right, weak and unfit for any battle! What a long road they have. And those who are saved later in life, after sowing seeds of sin in their earlier years, they reap the grievous harvest not only in this life, but the next: think of the spouses or children who will not be among the redeemed. Entire families who turn against the one believer and persecute their own kin with a vengeance (think of the Christians who come to the truth amidst a system like Islam!). Their lives are hard.

Be grateful for what you have been given--a faith that claimed you while you were so young, and a life that stretches out before you, even into your silver-haired years, a life of joyful submission, service, freedom, comfort and assurance beneath the banner of the salvation of God through Jesus Christ. Use this gift wisely, and do not waste your young years in comfort and indifference. Spend them stocking up on spiritual wisdom and knowledge, cultivating the fruits of the Spirit, and learning more and more about the character of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day. Then go out into the fields, which are white for harvest. Be strong. Strengthen yourselves, not bodily, for the body is wasting away and growing older only to die and decay, but rather strengthen yourselves spiritually--for your soul shall not die, but live eternally in the presence of the great and wondrous King! Gloria!

Living in Limbo

I had to stay home last weekend while my family went to a conference about homeschooling and family discipleship. I wanted to go, but alas, a major, 160 question, nerve-wracking exit nursing examination was scheduled smack in the middle of it, so I couldn't go. They came home on Sunday, beaming. Inspired. Renewed. Excited. And with bag-fulls of new books and audio lectures.

They came home filled with hope to see that there are still people left in the world who love the LORD their God with all of their hearts, souls, and minds, and teach their children to love His law as well. It was good that they went.

I, however, have been in a bit of a rut. Perhaps "stalemate" would be a better word. Not afraid, not discouraged, not frustrated--I can't pinpoint it. Worn out? Burned out? Wishing the future would hurry up and pan out so I could see how things will settle? Needing more sleep? Or, all of the above.

I want to plant a garden. But, should I bother if I won't be here to tend it? The two sheep need to be sheared. Where will I store the wool if this isn't the year I can learn to spin? I have too many horses. Which ones should I sell before I move in a mere ten weeks? Who will want them anyway? When will I find time to trim the goats' hooves? And, the "check engine" light came on in my car and it started rattling. And, we have to squeeze in a post-graduation barbecue somewhere in the 24 hours before two of our guys head to Alaska for a commercial fishing season. So much to do. Plans are a-whirling. Everything's jumbled up.

In the midst of the hum, I hear, "Be still." And know that I am God.

Yes, yes. I will. I have forgotten to be still. I have forgotten to cultivate contented joy with the flurry of each day, learning to live in this limbo land of not-quite-jelled plans. They will become clear in time, in His time, when it is right to reveal them to me. It is hard to be still when pulled in a thousand directions, hard to dim the buzzing world out and think about Him. Talk to Him. Ponder what He says. Tune for His pull on the heart.

And be still.

The Speck in My Brother's Eye

For scores of Americans, this week has been one of terrible loss. From my own small town to the great metropolis of Boston, grief and terror have seen an abrupt rise to power. In my town, a fifteen year old boy killed himself last week, shocking our close-knit community. In Massachusetts, double bombings killed and maimed dozens, and emotionally scarred thousands. In Texas, a fertilizer plant explosion compounded the national chaos and loss of precious lives. Law enforcement and emergency personnel are slain in the line of duty. Children lose parents. Parents lose children. Runners lose legs. And the whole world falls to shambles. Isn't there something or someone, somewhere, to blame for this terrible mess?

Yes.

There is one terrible, hellish curse to blame for the atrocities we've seen this week. It's name is Sin, and it is the grotesque delight and consuming passion of humanity's archenemy, Satan. How he laughs when bombs detonate and chaos reigns. How his legions cheer when children die on sidewalks. What sick delight he finds in sowing seeds of darkness in every heart, cultivating his crops of terror in every corner of the globe.

It is easy in times like these to attribute the heinous insanity of Tamerlan and Dzokhar Tsarneav to devilish forces. Discussion forums across the web wish them both eternal damnation for their crimes. It's tempting to agree.

But, truthfully, do I have any right to wish that these young terrorists burn in hell? What makes them more deserving than I? The fact that they set off bombs and killed people, while I did not?

Listen to these words by C.J. Mahaney: "When I become bitter or unforgiving toward others, I’m assuming that the sins of others are more serious than my sins against God. The cross transforms my perspective. Through the cross I realize that no sin committed against me will ever be as serious as the innumerable sins I’ve committed against God. When we understand how much God has forgiven us, it’s not difficult to forgive others."

The message of the cross is not a system of "worthiness to be saved," with some people working their way to the top of a waiting list. It's not for "good people" who are proud and blind to their sins. It's for the scum of the earth, to redeem them from the destruction that reigns in their darkened hearts and consumes them with an everlasting death. And here, Jesus says to us, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” (see Matthew 9:11-13)

I, too, have a heart of sin like the Tsarneav brothers, like you, like every other person on this earth today. We are equally condemned in our sins. Friends, we're all the scum of the earth. 

"Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother's eye." (see Luke 6:41-42)

 The response to this Week of Terror ought not be bitterness, revenge, or hatred. My attitude cannot be one of scorn or mockery toward the condemned. What hypocrisy to preach mercy and salvation to all--except those who "jump off the deep end" and kill people. They ought to perish in their sins. No! My attitude must be one of tremendous grief and fervent prayer for a country reeling in the aftershock of devastation, both victims and perpetrators. All desperately need the salvation that comes through repentance and belief in the Lord Jesus Christ, a message rejected by millions, but hope and healing and life and peace to all who surrender to Him.

                                                 .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city; also, on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. 

The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And night will be no more. 

They will need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever.

 ~Revelation 22:1-5

Winds of Change

Since my last blog post, I have indeed been accepted at the three-and-a-half-hour away little hospital, and if all goes as planned, I will start a few weeks after graduation, as soon as I've obtained my RN license. I mustn't complain--how good and gracious of the Lord to provide me with a job so soon! And not too far away; I can still come home often enough. Some folks are looking across the country for work. I am grateful. Really.

But I am a little afraid. Humans weren't designed to live alone, least of all women, and least of those, young women. How will I be safe? Will there be a good church? Who will be my new friends and influences? How can I let go of everything I love here? It's icy there in the winter--will my car be able to handle it? What if I get mugged leaving a noc shift? This is, of course, the point where some begin to snicker at me, and as one lady made all too plain by her scissor-snipping hand motions and a tawdry joke, I am apparently far too attached and dependent on the people I love. "Time to cut the apron strings, sweetie."

Nonsense. I have deliberately rejected that senseless, thoughtless custom of our deluded culture: that kicking-them-out-of-the-nest at eighteen, out-of-their-parents'-hair-and-into-the-world-alone ideology that is hopelessly flawed when examined against Scripture. I've seen it fail--miserably so--and have no desire to become a lonely, selfish, unhelpful person, who is not accountable to anyone for anything and has no good reason to do anything other than whatever I darn well please whenever I have the fancy to do it. Such begins the spiraling descent into apathy, sin, folly, and a host of other spiritual maladies. Granted, I'm not eighteen anymore. "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven."

I desire to be a useful woman, integrated into a community of people, relied upon, held accountable for my life and my choices, needed, remembered, cared for, not forgotten, watched out for, missed, loved . . . everything that I have here in my home, my family, my church and my small-town community. And yet, He leads me away from it all, and I trust Him, but there is mingled with it a dose of fear.

I had, of course, always planned on leaving home someday. But I hadn't envisioned it quite like this--to a place where I know not one soul, by myself. Other people do it all the time, but the pure commonality of it hardly qualifies it as the best scenario--unless it is God who ordains such a situation to be mine to live, for this time.

So, like the boy Samuel, I wake in the night, surrounded by the comforts of a familiar life, but I sense a change in the air. And, not knowing for certain what it is, I can only speak the same words as he: "Speak, LORD, for your servant hears."

Standing in the Sun

Today was one of those quintessentially spring-ish days. Every year I fall in love with spring more and more, and it is a bit of a sorrow to me that the last five years--including this one--have found me mired in school work and unable to run outside, fling open my arms to the sun, smell the damp dirt and kiss my little goats' furry faces at every chance. But, in a way, the obligatory leash of The Nursing Program (yes, capitalized) has made me behold with a fresh wonder the glory of this time of year, particularly today, as I strain against the cord of annotated bibliography assignments. I lean out my second story window, take out the screen, and close my eyes as the bamboo wind chimes sing in the garden and the shaggy orchard grass glows in the last slanting rays of the sun. And I think, in this life, this quick, spinning, brief life, what more could there be than to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with my God? (Micah 6:8)

I woke up this morning from a deep, good, sweet sleep, and I awoke with the startling realization that my life is magnificently blessed. Who am I to be the receiver of a life so charmed? My parents are still married, and actually love each other (29 years and counting!). My one sister (of whom I am jealously protective) is six years into one of the most blessed marriages I've had the privilege of watching. My four younger brothers (whom I love with dreadful fierceness) are rising up, growing into the kinds of men who cast off the shabby farce of weak-minded manhood, instead asking hard questions and seeking true answers--a search that is changing them from boys to warriors before my eyes. My niece (2 years old) and nephew (4 weeks old) thrive and grow in a pure, earnest home with a mama and a papa who fear God and love his commandments.

And then there is me.

Somewhere in the middle of this bustling mini-universe that is our family, there is a 22 year old woman standing in the light of the Son, and it blinds me sometimes, when I turn my face into His glory. I'm walking, as we all are walking, and I see the junction just ahead. It's fast approaching, and when I get there, this road ends where a thousand others begin, and I'll have to pick one or stand forever on the sidewalk, watching the traffic rush by. But, it's so hard to choose. In two months I'll be done with nursing school. The pursuit that ate up the end of my teen years and launched me solidly into my twenties, forever out of childhood and into adulthood, will be over, and I'll have to move on--maybe literally.

You see, in my hometown, which is rather small and out-of-the-way, there aren't many (if any) jobs for new nurses. Quite frankly, it's just a bad time to be graduating from nursing school. Five years ago would have been a lot better. Five years from now it may be again--but I'm in the slump years, and I know it was meant to be so. I know He has not forgotten me. I know the joy of the LORD is my strength, and that I am doing this not for a good job or a paycheck or to impress anybody by having the "RN" letters behind my name, but I am doing this so that I may be of greater service to my Lord, wherever and whenever and however He should choose to use me. And if he never uses this profession, this skill set that is "nursing" which I have learned (though the thought is hard to swallow at the moment), I will not insist on using it. If He closes every door that I have knocked upon, I know it is because He knows better than I. Doors have already closed to me; even this afternoon I could scratch out another possibility on my list of hopefuls. And, for the first time, there is the possibility that I might have to leave all that I love and move away to find a job as a nurse, which brings me to some serious introspection: is it worth it? What is the point of what I'm doing? How much will I shell out in the name of Nursing? And, more importantly, it drives me into the Living Word to see what God is telling me to do, especially when each plan and sub-plan of mine are gently and firmly shut down.

But here is something surprising: as much as I hope for such-and-such opportunity to work out, and as much as I pursue it diligently, fill out the necessary applications and present myself as best I can, I have found an abiding equilibrium in knowing that it is He who ordains the future, and it is He who will orchestrate my life into a pleasing symphony of praise. When I get the letter, or answer the phone and receive the message of rejection (and I have, several times), it gets easier with each one--which is ironic, considering that rejection is generally depressing. But I am standing in the sun today; it warms and cheers my body, and I stand in the Son every day; He warms and cheers my soul. Being rejected has become almost exciting; I get to say, "Well, that wasn't it, was it, Lord?" And I smile, both in trust and bewilderment.

In the meantime, not knowing what the remaining year holds, and not even knowing where I will be in eight weeks, I'm surprised by His peace that allows me to notice and delight in the piano's muted arpeggios as the boys practice their music downstairs, the winter pear tree by the garden gate that just burst into a snowy froth of blossoms, and the delectable smell of the waffles some good soul is making for dinner. All is well when one walks humbly, trustingly, and quietly before the LORD of heaven and earth.

This, This is Why

More thoughts for my girls, from my Bible reading this evening.

Tonight, I'm reading from Matthew 26 through Mark 2.

The end of Matthew chronicles the unjust trial, condemnation, persecution, crucifixion, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus. It's a powerful story, even more so this time of year, with Easter only a couple of weeks away. There is so much I could say; I don't know where to focus for just one thoughts for this email.

I suppose I want to draw your attention to the night Jesus prayed in the garden of Gethsemane, and his disciples (who were supposed to be praying and watching at the gate) repeatedly fell asleep and left him alone, unsupported, in his darkest hour. (See Matthew 26:36-46)

I have to confess; for a long time (and maybe even still), I really didn't understand Jesus' grief and despair at this time. I guess I thought, "Yes, definitely it would be somber to await one's executioners, even more so when you hadn't done anything wrong. How scary to be unjustly condemned, and how awful to await the dawn, knowing it would bring nothing but terror and, ultimately, a murderer's death by agonizing crucifixion." I didn't really get it. Jesus didn't sweat drops of blood and weep because he was afraid to die an agonizing death. (Which would be reason enough for me to sweat blood and cry, by the way. I'm terribly afraid of pain). He spent the night in total anguish because he knew that his death meant not merely excruciating physical pain, and total humiliation, but . . . he, the Holy, the Sovereign, the Son of the Father who knew God, loved God, and who was God, would become the recipient of the righteous, terrible wrath of a just and holy God. We cannot even begin to comprehend what kind of terror and anguish this is. The only Man who had ever lived in perfect obedience, total innocence, without one single sin against him, would become a blood-saturated substitute for all who were truly guilty. His holiness, cleanness, and perfect purity would bear the punishment deserved by all who were filthy, rotten, foul, debased, and evil to the core of their very beings. The punishment you and I deserve.

That is why he wept. Not for physical pain, but for spiritual anguish. The wrath of God is a crippling, terrible, frightening, killing kind of fear that cuts to the quick of all who understand its measure. It is this gasping, paralyzing, anguishing fear that drives foul sinners to repentance, that drives them to their knees, begging forgiveness from a Holy God before whom they have no reason to stand except for His grace. But, He cannot simply be gracious to wicked people and still be just; all sins have a just recompense, a wage that has been earned and must be paid. That wage is death. An agonizing, spiritual, separated-from-God death. A death you and I, by all rights, have earned for ourselves by our foul hearts.

And Jesus Christ, that loving, gentle, holy, perfect, beautiful Son of Man and Son of God, saw down the corridors of time and saw your face, your tear-filled eyes, your guilty sentence, your hopeless plight, your foul record of sins, and he stepped up to executioner's block, not only for a physical death, but for the full onslaught of the out-poured wrath of God. For you. For me. And it cost him, oh so dearly. Such anguish. Such grief. How he prayed in that garden that there might be some other way! "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will, Father."

Oh, how great is our God. How merciful. How slow to anger, abounding in mercy. What is man, that You are mindful of him? We are so small, so weak, so flawed, yet he loves us still. I cannot understand such love. And in its wake, as a recipient of such immeasurable graciousness, how can I possibly settle for a religion that is shallow, weak, apathetic, fleshly in its lusts, and requires me to give less than absolutely everything? Look at what He did for me! Would I insult him so, and disregard such love? What hypocrisy is such a pseudo-faith! Far be it from me, oh Lord. I am weak, but You are strong. Help me, Father, to live with urgency and a right perspective of my place: from whence I've come, by Your amazing grace.

"Who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began." (2 Tim 1:9)

All my love, sweet girls,
~Brenna

. . . Coram Deo . . .
"Living before the face of God"