Wednesday, May 25, 2011

The Magnitude of Speaking with Kindness



Someone once said that my parents wouldn't raise their voices to one another if the house was burning down.

It's true. I really don't think they would. I have never heard my mother and father fight. Earnestly disagree, yes. But they always managed to do so with words, tones of voice, and body language that still conveyed kindness.

Growing up, I didn't understand how drastically different my home was from others in this respect. I noticed that other moms snapped at their children in frustration awfully frequently. But I didn't realize that those moms were the norm and mine was the exception.

Sometime in my teens, I started to hear the difference in the way my dad spoke to my mom, compared to other men's tones with their wives.

Have you ever noticed how, when you overhear someone else answer the phone, you can usually tell who's on the other end just by the way the answerer speaks to them? Most of us have a very polite initial answering voice, which then changes slightly depending on who we discover we're speaking to. If it's a business acquaintance, the conversation generally continues in a soft, kind, "how can I help you?" tone of voice. If it's a friend we've been waiting to hear from, we progress into a louder, bubbly timbre for chit-chat. Unfortunately, if it's one of the people closest to us- our family- we often convert to a short, dull style of speaking that implies, "Get this over quickly and stop bothering me." (If you haven't noticed this phenomenon, eavesdrop a little the next time you're in the mall or at the office, and let me know what you find.)

When my dad gets a phone call from my mom, it doesn't matter what he's in the middle of. He might be in a desperate rush to get somewhere. He might be deep into an important theological conversation. He might be in a real predicament. No matter what's happening when his phone rings, you can always tell it's my mom on the other end of the line, just by listening to his tone of voice. He speaks to her more kindly than to anyone else. My dad's a loving, patient man. He always has a kind voice. But when it's my mom he's talking to, there is an extra measure of concern and sweetness in his words.

Not only do my parents set the example by speaking to one another lovingly, they also made sure that their children learned to do the same. My dad has never allowed us to get away with an inconsiderate word towards my mom. Likewise, she doesn't tolerate speech that disrespects him.

Isn't that how it should be? Those we claim to love the most should have that claim affirmed to them constantly, not only in phraseology, but also in tone of voice and even body language.

Yet I'm just now realizing that this is a rare thing I grew up with, assuming it was normal— this habit of speaking with utmost kindness within one's household.

Having parents who implied love with every word was an enormous source of security for me both then and now.

Most obviously, I was reminded that my parents loved and valued me every time they spoke to me. Even when I was being disciplined and their words were not pleasant to me, my parents spoke those words in a calm, gentle way that conveyed they were acting with my good in mind. Rarely did they use a tone of anger or frustration with my disobedience. (When hasty words were spoken in frustration, my mom or dad would soon apologize.)

Another benefit was that I knew my parents treasured one another. As a child, when friends' parents are divorcing and you are beginning to realize that everything in the world changes, affectionate words and a constant stream of mere kindness between mom and dad are like an anchor. I never once doubted my parents would stay together forever. Even if I'd been looking for it, I would have found nothing in their actions or speech that gave me room to question their love for each other.

I hope that my words and the tone with which they are spoken never allow my husband a single moment to doubt my love for him. I pray that someday our children are constantly reminded of our love for them and for each other by the kindness in our speech. (Incidentally, my husband is fabulous at this. I thank him almost every day for the loving way he speaks to me.)

When I'm in homes where kind words are not the norm, I feel awkward. I may only be visiting there for a short while, but I don't know how to respond in the midst of a family that criticizes, complains, mumbles, and snaps at one another. I leave wondering if they like each other at all.

So I want my home- my husband's and my place of retreat- to be different. I want it to be the uncommon sort of home like the one in which I grew up. I want to choose to speak to my husband with kindness, with love, with respect, no matter what.

No matter what. Back to the burning house idea— there is never an occasion to speak unkindly. Even under stress. Even in disaster. Even when the matter is urgent. None of those situations negate love, and none of them negate the importance of showing that love by speaking with kindness.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Obstacle #1 to Making Home a Retreat

A month ago I was so focused.

I was excited about finding ways to make our home a pleasant place.
I was excited about journaling that journey.
I thought the most important thing in my world at the time was creating this ideal environment for us to live in.Then my priorities were challenged in a big way.

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Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Striking Repose

An old Chinese proverb states, "A hundred men may make an encampment, but it takes a woman to make a home."

That's debatable, really. But the general concept about home is true.

A home is something special. What's the difference between a home and an encampment?

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Monday, March 7, 2011

"Once Upon A Time..." (Part 3)

I went home from that first date and reported to my parents, "I just had the time of my life, but I'm sure I bored him to death. I'll never hear from him again."

Steven drove home that night thinking, "I'm going to marry her."

Maybe that's why I did hear from him again. The very next day.

From then on, we spent a lot of time together, Steven and I. With groups, with our families, and with just the two of us.

I so appreciate this article from Young Ladies' Christian Fellowship. Looking back at our courtship, I can identify closely with the statement that "real life isn't always like the courtship books" that are so popular among our circles. And although those books are helpful, I'm glad that pure, God-honoring romances don't have to be dictated by someone else's journey. When God began to write our love story, He wrote it better than I had imagined it- far better than my legalistic expectations would have allowed me to appreciate if I had demanded to experience a formulaic courtship just like the ones in the books.

I had never met anyone like Steven. Everything about him "clicked" with everything about me. We had been finishing each other's sentences almost from the moment we met, yet I still never tired of hearing what he had on his mind. Not all providentially orchestrated marriages must begin with two people who are remarkably compatible and who "hit it off" from the start. But ours did. Someplace in my heart that had always been cynical and cold before, there began to grow trust and warmth toward Steven.

On February 2, 2010, I jotted this in my journal:
"Never knew anyone like you.
God's grace is all that I can credit this to.
I can't find words, so a grateful will have to do.
Never knew anyone like you."

I continued observing this young man who was so unlike any other I knew. A few observations, also scribbled into journal entries throughout the following months:

"I love watching him in action, interacting with others. He is selfless, Christ-centered, and compassionate. He is a man of integrity. "

"He is gentle, expressive, and sincere."

"He is the best man in the whole world. I am sure of it."

One of the most outstanding characteristics I saw in Steven from the beginning was his quiet leadership. Guiding me carefully through a packed crowd of people, taking the initiative in discussing difficult issues, changing my tire in the hot July sun when I had a flat- these are merely a sampling of the ways in which he served and lead me while we were dating. When something must be done, when a decision must be made, when someone must take the lead, he simply does. It's not a big production. It's not bossiness. It's just Steven's character. I love that about him.

When did I know, really know for sure that I loved him?

I don't know when I first started pondering the idea, but I was cautious. I tried very hard not to entertain the notion until I had solid proof of "his intentions," as they used to say. We young ladies tend to get our hearts broken a little too easily, and usually by our own fault. So, by God's grace, I was guarded and intentional about only thinking of us as friends until the moment he told me otherwise. It was not easy.

As we sat in his truck one Sunday evening in the parking lot of the church, Steven opened his Bible and started sharing things he'd been reading in 1 Corinthians 13. He had this whole list of notes on it and what he was learning. He went on about how love is action, not just emotion, and how love isn't really possible apart from God. He talked about how he wanted to spend his lifetime pursuing only one woman.

I hope it's okay for me to write that next, he became markedly nervous. :)
He said, "Well, I didn't know if I should tell you this, but I've been reading 1 Corinthians 13 alot lately because I've been praying for God to help me love you well. I want to love you like Christ loves the church, and I know that I need God's grace to teach me how to do that. That being said, I hope it's not too soon to tell you this, because I don't really know what 'normal' is in relationships. But I want you to know that I love you."

At that point I'm pretty sure I cried.

I told him that I already knew he loved me because of the way he treated me.

And I told him that I loved him too.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

"Once Upon a Time..." (Part 2)

Little did I know that almost everyone we were acquainted with had been encouraging that fellow to spend some time with me. Friends, family, church leaders.


Conspiracy? Probably.


But after-practice chats about music and books led to rich discussions about Christ, prayer, discipleship, suffering, and worship. One day, out of the blue, he called me up and asked me if I'd like to go to a Christmas parade with him and some friends. Call me old-fashioned; before I gave him an answer, I called my dad for permission. My dad said yes.

That's how December 14, 2009 became known as our first date. Steven picked me up at my grandparents' after work. We met our two dear friends on the side of the street and began waiting for the parade, somewhat nervously, not saying much. We both chuckle to recall that Steven passed my first vital examination when a Coca-Cola truck drove past, adorned with flashing Christmas lights and blaring carols.


"Pepsi or Coke?" I asked.


He responded quite decidedly, "Coke."


I said, "Good."


After the parade, the four of us went to Dairy Queen. We talked as we sat outdoors at an umbrella table and gobbled our ice cream. (You can do that at Christmastime in the South.) As soon as the ice cream had become just a sweet memory, our friends left.


Conspiracy? Definitely.


Steven and I sat at that table and talked for hours. We were discovering that our theology was identical, our passions parallel, our gifts complementary. "I could not have this conversation with anyone else I know," I remarked before the evening was over.

There would be many more conversations like that with Steven.

There still are. :)

Thursday, October 14, 2010

"Once Upon a Time..." (Part 1)

Where does one begin to write a love story? At the first realization that he was "the one?" The first time the two met, or maybe the first time we ever heard of each other? Perhaps that first timid childhood thought that it might be nice to fall in love someday?

When my fiancé proposed, he presented me with a charming storybook he'd written chronicling our love story. He began with the days we were each born.

The truth is, this love story kind of sneaked up on me.

Every day since I was twelve years old, I have prayed that God would send me a man who was passionate about Him. Of course I prayed for other traits - intelligence, maturity, integrity - but I knew those would fall into place if this man possessed an all-encompassing passion to know Christ and to glorify God. I also knew I was asking for a rare find.

I wasn't really "looking" for all those years. I couldn't stand the thought of flirting, didn't look forward to dating, and barely gave a thought to what I'd want my wedding day to be like. I just prayed that someday I'd be able to marry that impossible dream I'd asked God for. High school came and went. The Christian College years passed. A couple of years as a nanny and English tutor were behind me. Even well-meaning attempts at "set-ups" by sweet family and friends didn't bring him along.

There was one night in 2008 when my cousin invited me to a Christmas party with some of his friends from church. I had a blast. I barely remember a smiling, soft-spoken young man in a striped hoodie mentioning to me that we'd taken piano lessons from the same instructor when we were children.


I didn't know I'd been invited to the party just so that I could meet him.

A few days later, he "friended" me on Facebook. I saw his status updates and sometimes casually perused his listed interests, at which my mom and sister remarked "Wow... he's like a male you."

At 22 years old, I'd still never been on a date. That sounds romantic and noble within some circles and it sounds backwards and sheltered within others. It wasn't any of those things. It was freeing and even fun at times. But it was also lonely and difficult.

In February 2009, I had the privilege of meeting Mrs. Charo Washer, who encouraged me and my friend to cherish each season of life. She told us to embrace every opportunity for service that we were afforded while we were single. She explained that someday if we were married, we would have new doors opened for serving the Lord but would also find others closed. I remember how she admonished us not to fret about or long for the future or the past, but to savor each day just as God presented it to us. I remember thinking, "That isn't going to be easy, but it definitely sounds better than always wishing, always pining to be married."

Six months later I was invited to participate in a Christmas musical at the church much of my extended family attends. I showed up for practice the first night and there he was at the piano- that quiet guy who read all the books I loved and was interested in all the same things I was. I couldn't help stealing glances toward the piano as he played. He looked as if he were having such a marvelous time at the keys. After a few practices, I went home and told my little sister that I wished I could get to know him. What are little sisters for? She quickly assured me, "He's too cool for you." Of course he was. But I just wanted to talk to him, to see if he was really as fascinating as I thought he'd be.

One night after practice, we did talk. We talked about books. We talked about music. I think we even talked about the fact that we both preferred real Christmas trees over artificial ones. Something clicked. I couldn't sleep that night. Sorry, you hopeless romantics; it wasn't because I was dreaming of him. Earlier that day I'd been given a CD of Christmas music he'd recorded. I listened to the whole thing several times as I lay in bed. I was a fan immediately.

At some point after practice another evening, he sat at the piano playing his own arrangements of my absolute favorite songs. I stood across the room trying to converse with some other ladies there, but I didn't hear a word they said! Before I knew it, my eyes had turned to where my ears were tuned and the musician had looked up at me as well. For a brief moment- just like in the movies- we gazed. Then we both became aware of it and looked away.


But not before I saw him smile.


My curiosity was intensely piqued about this John Piper-reading, Owl City-listening, one-man-band fellow with the sweet grin.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

He Has Been Good

I have not blogged in a year and a half. So much has happened in that time!
Without hesitation, the past 18 months can be summarized in a single sentence:

God has been good.

In the past 18 months He has provided me with a second part-time job.

He has used that job to provide for the finishing of my CollegePlus! program and to bring me now only weeks away from finishing a Bachelor’s degree in English.

He has introduced me to new friends and opened doors for amazing new experiences.

And He has given me a beautiful relationship with the creative, loving, godly man who is now my fiancé.

Just last year I lamented the approaching Valentine’s Day because I had nearly lost hope that God’s plan for me might include marriage. I never ever would have dreamed that one year later, February 14 would bring roses from a man whose heart is more beautiful than the flowers.

More updates will surely follow. For now be encouraged, as I am, that “with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26) and that “every good and perfect gift comes from above, from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning” (James 1:17). He is good.


Monday, March 9, 2009

Repentance and the Real Action from the True Church Conference

Previously, I posted an overview of wonderful experiences from the True Church Conference. While those events were fabulous highlights of the weekend, they don't comprise the true action of the conference. No, the real story from the True Church Conference is an unseen one, more difficult to express but eternal.

Of course, with the title "Wonderful Grace of Repentance" and an agenda of 11 repentance-themed sermons, one would've expected this conference to teach much about repentance. I was looking forward to as much preaching on the topic as I could get, for I knew that the repentance in my own life was lacking.

In the first session, Mr. Mbewe laid the necessary foundation for understanding this "change of mind" by expounding the Radical Depravity of Man from Romans 3. A doctrine that has been much neglected, depravity is well-summarized by Romans 3:10-12: "None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God. All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one."
Repentance must be a work of God alone, for man does not naturally seek God and will not / cannot change his mind to agree with God (Romans 8:7-8). I began to pray that God would use my time at the conference to work a fuller repentance in my life.

In session two, Mr. Noblit taught that the root of repentance is sorrow for sin, mourning over the offense commited against the Holy God (Psalm 51:17). This is precisely what I was convicted of lacking. At and since my conversion there had definitely been repentance, but a not daily-increasing sorrow for sin of the intensity that I saw in the lives of believers in the Bible and around me. This troubled me deeply. Mr. Noblit said, "If you cannot go to God with repentance, you must go to God for repentance." So I continued to ask the Lord to deepen my sorrow for sin.

As time progressed, several of the preachers emphasized that repentance does not end at the moment of salvation, nor is it completely mature at that time. Mr. Washer exhorted that repentance is not always greatly manifest at conversion, but will be deepened in the believer's life throughout the process of sanctification. Mr. Sims described "taking sides with God against yourself." Dr. Baucham preached from Psalm 51 on brokenness over sin.
I prayed, "Lord, show me how you see my sin, that I may be broken over it."

Upon returning from the church to our host home each evening, I had been reading over and over Romans 3, Psalm 51, and Isaiah 6 and 53. God never fails to use His Word!
In Romans 3, He showed me what I am without Him.
In Psalm 51, He taught me what my attitude must be about it.
In Isaiah 6, He reminded me of His holiness.
And in chapter 53, He demonstrated how He sees my sin against that holiness. When God saw my sin upon His perfect, beloved Son, "He was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed... the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all... He was oppressed, and he was afflicted... they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth... Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him."

In addition to His Word, preaching, and prayer, the Lord used the doctrinal lyrics of many of the songs we sang at the conference. Lyrics such as:

My lips with shame my sins confess
Against Thy law, against Thy grace:
Lord, should Thy judgment grow severe,
I am condemned, but Thou art clear.
Should sudden vengeance seize my breath,
I must pronounce Thee just in death;
And if my soul were sent to hell,
Thy righteous law approves it well.
-- Isaac Watts


Oh, to see the pain
Written on Your face,
Bearing the awesome weight of sin.
Ev’ry bitter thought, ev’ry evil deed
Crowning Your bloodstained brow.

This, the pow’r of the cross:
Christ became sin for us;
Took the blame, bore the wrath—
We stand forgiven at the cross.
-- Keith Getty and Stuart Townend

I will glory in my Redeemer
Whose precious blood has ransomed me;
Mine was the sin that drove the bitter nails
And hung Him on that judgment tree.
I will glory in my Redeemer
Who crushed the power of sin and death,
My only Savior before the holy Judge,
The Lamb Who is my Righteousness
.
-- Vikki and Steve Cook

Because the sinless Savior died
My sinful soul is counted free.
For God the just is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me.
-- Charitie L. Bancroft



I asked God to show me my sin as He sees it.
He showed me the cross.

Friday, March 6, 2009

Giveaways Worth Entering

Usually freebies are forgettable. Not these. :)

Jasmine Baucham over at Joyfully Home is giving away a copy of her father's newest book What He Must Be... If He Wants to Marry My Daughter. Check out her website or click the button on my sidebar for more information! This giveaway ends March 13.




From A Boomer in the Pew comes a drawing for a free Calfskin ESV Study Bible. If, like myself, you're intensely curious to get your hands on an ESV Study Bible, why not check out this giveaway? The drawing will be held on March 16.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Indescribable Redemption

One of my newest favorite songs is "Indescribable." Yesterday I was singing it while driving (which means, of course, that it was being sung quite loudly), when a third verse came to me. Because to me God's most "indescribably" amazing act is His work of redemption, the new verse seemed appropriate. Original lyrics in italics are by Chris Tomlin.

Verse 1:
From the highest of heights to the depths of the sea
,
Creation's revealing Your majesty
From the colors of fall to the fragrance of spring
Every creature unique in the song that it sings
All exclaiming

Chorus:
Indescribable, uncontainable,
You placed the stars in the sky and You know them by name.
You are amazing God
All powerful, untameable,
Awestruck we fall to our knees as we humbly proclaim
You are amazing God

Verse 2:
Who has told every lightning bolt where it should go
Or seen heavenly storehouses laden with snow
Who imagined the sun and gives source to its light
Yet conceals it to bring us the coolness of night
None can fathom

New Verse:
Who, in justice, demands that the sinner must die,
Yet ordained a way to be just and justify?
Who, in wrath, crushed His own Holy Son in my stead,
Yet with Him resurrected my soul from the dead?
Now I know You
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