Sunday, April 17, 2011

My Story Part 3...Early days

Today's morning sermon was an affirmation of what I'm taking the time to do here. It was an incredible reminder of why I was made. Why YOU were made!

I love my husband so much. I love who he is and how he acts. I most of all love not just how he loves me, but how he loves God. How he always seeks God's purpose in everything. This morning, I think he could have said it no better when looking out into the face of hundreds after reading our text in Psalms.

"No one can praise God like you can. Sure, the rocks could cry out if you didn't, but the Creator of the universe created you for one reason. To bring him glory. And no one else can do it quite like you can." he said.

I could chew on those words for a long time. And I think I will.

I know that this is my story, and better said, God's story through my life, but I will take a moment to say just a little about my husband. The one who doesn't just complete me, but is me by extension. The crazy logic that only an almighty hand could design when two are joined, and are no longer two, but one. God's math.

It's funny how people feel free to belittle another's spouse to their face. As if the one doesn't feel the detrimental blow intended for the other. But that's a side note. A rabbit I won't chase. ;)

Not long ago, a friend of ours was talking to us about a young lady who as a high-schooler started a Bible study group in her school. This girl organized and led a group until it became so large - over 200 - that the school auditorium was opened to them. She continued through college, and began to organize more and more groups and our friend described her like this: "She's the kind of person where you see the potential she has - what God can do through her - and you step back just so you won't mess it up. And if it's a matter of writing a check to fulfill that plan, I'll get my pen and checkbook - just to have a part."

My heart swelled and was so encouraged by the story, but all I could think of was my sweet husband. A man who at the age of 16 was preaching to thousands who would gather to hear the good news freely preached in a land where for 45 years Communism ruled and oppressed. And people stood back, watched, and, yes, wrote the checks. People paid his way to the US to study, and brought him to me. I'll never be able to thank those people enough; those who saw the great work of God in him even then. How even now as people of his country are no longer enthused by the sweet story of the Scriptures, yet some still come. My husband, full of fervor now stands before hundreds, not thousands, and preaches the same Gospel, the same love, the same stories. And God through his people, keeps the funds coming. Even in the craziest of circumstances.

Last year, we decided to surprise my brother as we were passing through his town while out traveling. He was assistant manager at a store and was working that day. We pulled up and walked in, all the kids running to hug him. We couldn't stay too long - since he was, after all, working - but in the course of our short visit, my husband met a man. They began a friendly chit-chat, and on the way out, he slipped us $50, because the work we do touched his heart. And so it is in our lives. A passionately purpose-driven man guides this family to places I could not have imagined. Because, like I said, he loves God in a way that is sometimes baffling to me. And I love him for it. Because I, by extension, am him. And I am honored.

All that was free. :) My heart was just full of how thankful I am for him today, and how he continually guides me to know and love my Savior more, and seek his purpose, for his glory.

Before I delve into this next part, I will say that I am am wrestling some with what is to be said, and what is not. I pray the Lord will give me peace each step of the way. But some hard parts await. I will wade through whatever rough waters lie ahead, and I ask grace from readers to understand that how I say what I say, and what I reveal and only that be taken at face value. I can not stop a stranger from reading into what I'm going to say, but I pray that whatever is said would be used to help and most of all bring glory to a risen Savior!

Early days...

That's me around 3 and 4 years old. In some ways, I feel that way still. You know, small, naive, ready to see the big wide world. In other ways (okay, most ways) I see how long passed those days really are.

During these formidable years, we moved. From everything I knew, from my beloved home, friends, and extended family, we moved far away. I was not happy. Mom tells me that I was a spunky little lass in those days. Who me?! I would literally hop up onto my brother, pin him down and get my way by force. Funny how I don't remember that. :P

What I do remember is my first day of K-4. Yes that lovely school photo from 1979 depicts such a sweet face, doesn't it? I really was most of the time!

But that day in September so long ago, I was feeling feisty! Mad at the world because I had to move to a strange town, make new friends AND start school, I made my disapproval known by throwing my raisins at my teacher and loudly proclaiming I would NOT be quiet after being asked to oh so many times. Good grief, my poor mother! I can only imagine what she must have thought on the very first day of my school career! Was this really just the precursor of what was to come?

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