Ann Voskamp's Blog, page 196
August 22, 2015
Links for 2015-08-21 [del.icio.us]
“We’re so quick to throw the baby under the bus instead of examining the issues surrounding abortion. We should focus on providing health care and mental health care for women and girls in difficult situations and confronting poverty, drugs and sex trafficking.” Willis-Blount said that “all life matters, no exceptions.” “I have compassion and empathy for women who have had an abortion. The awful irony of the pro-choice movement is that it doesn’t feel like a choice. I know what it’s like to be in a hard situation. But we should never have the right to take another life. Any situation, no matter how grim, can be turned around for good.”
August 21, 2015
Hope For Your Soul When You Feel Small
Yeah, when I get to sit and listen to Emily Freeman, I always feel more alive. Emily’s got this way to really wow you awake to who you are meant to be. Jesus is using her to change the world in a million little, profound, ways. Not to mention, she is winsome, brilliant, and beautifully down-to-earth — and reminds me of the most captivating old soul? Her luminous words hand you your rightful birthright: to be as creative as your Creator Father. Read them and exhale. Emily comes to the farm porch today with words that stir beautiful things:
all photos and text by Emily Freeman
I lost my way the first time I tried to navigate through the new church building.
I traveled up and down the same stairwells that Sunday, trying to figure out which floor I was on.
The stairwells didn’t have controlled air, so several flights up I started to feel the heat.
The stairwell wasn’t a place I wanted to linger.
Before long, I knew my way around the new building and climbing certain stairwells became a regular part of our Sunday morning routine. We would see friends going up as we walked down, stop to chat as people passed by.
But the stairwell itself was never a real destination.
The purpose of the stairwell was to pass through, to get from one place to the other.
The stairwell was a necessary pathway to the sanctuary.
Never once did I consider how the stairwell could become a sanctuary itself. The youth group changed all that.
One Sunday night early in my husband John’s first year as the youth pastor, the students leading worship decided that, instead of keeping everyone in the youth group room like usual, they wanted to take us into one of the stairwells and sing together there. Evidently this was a regular thing and soon we learned why.
We piled in on the steps, squeezing beneath the platform overhang, crowding together on the floor, standing shoulder to shoulder against the cinder-block walls.
One of the students led the group, and with the first note the voices of over a hundred high school students seemed to transform into a chorus of a thousand angels as each voice echoed ten times the normal amount.
There was a sense of community in the stairwell, all of us piled close in dim lighting, singing several verses of favorite songs.
It was hard to believe that something so profoundly beautiful could be found in someplace so dreadfully ordinary.
Part of why I think those stairwell songs remain so clear in my own memory is that I became less aware of myself in the stairwell as it was hard to tell whose voice belonged to whom. The collective sound was lovelier than any one voice alone.
Singing in a stairwell makes it easy to see how ordinary places can become sanctuaries.
When we went back to the youth group room, I had to acknowledge a sense of disappointment as we assumed our usual posture — everyone sitting in darkness, no longer facing one another, all angled toward the lit-up stage.
And while I don’t see a thing wrong with having a stage, I do recognize within myself the natural tendency I have, maybe one we all have, to assume all the important things happen on stages while the stairwells are just a way to get there, one ordinary step at a time.
If the calendar week was a church, then Tuesday would be the stairwell.
It’s the ordinary small day we have to move through to get to the weekend or to the seemingly more important events we have on our calendar.
But what if we genuinely began to acknowledge the importance of both?
I don’t want to elevate one at the expense of the other or de-elevate one to the exception of the other. I learn a lot about the state of my soul when I pay attention to the stages and stairwells in my own life.
The stairwell can be a sacred place of worship or a secret place of fear. I can either move there on purpose or hide there from my purpose.
The stage can also be a sacred place of worship or a secret place of fear, a place I either move to on purpose or hide there from my purpose.
Sometimes in life I forget about the beauty and connection that can happen in the stairwell and, instead, all my attention is focused on the stage.
And while important things do happen on stages, while influence does come from spotlights, I never want to forget important things happen in stairwells too.
Christ spent His life on the stage of earth but He lived His moments in the stairwells of small towns.
Christ ascended to the stage of heaven but He lives His moments now within the stairwell of the human heart.
Never forsake the stairwell for the stage.
As a family, this lesson is becoming deeply personal, sinking down into our souls. Since John served his last day as a youth pastor working at that church, we have loved much about this open time when he has not had a traditional job with traditional working hours.
But some days, we struggle.
He literally went from that very youth room stage to having no stage at all.
Nobody wants their work to be under appreciated, undersold, or underwhelming.
Ladders are for climbing and careers are for building. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to leave something successful, thriving, and growing and step into nothing.
But that’s what John has done.
These days Christ is forming John’s confidence around an identity outside of his job description and that can be hard for us at times. The days of the stage may not be behind him forever, but they are in the past for now.
In the meantime, we are learning the beauty of ministering in the stairwells, of finding the benches meant for us, and of forming intimate connections with a few rather than casual connections with many.
Still, I sense a grief that accompanies small, a disappointment that highlights my own desire for credit and attention.
But I also sense an invitation, one that brings a desire to commune with Jesus and with others in a way that the big I think I want may not allow. Daily I’m given the opportunity to recognize the gift of obscurity, trusting Christ is doing invisible kingdom work in the stairwells of my everyday life.
Let’s stretch out in the fullness of small and move downward in gladness rather than upward in fear.
Let’s let go of the constructed life and embrace a connected life, even if it leads to less.
Let’s see the sanctuaries in the stairwells and remember how our souls weren’t made for fame.
Let’s receive the gift of obscurity with joy, gratitude,
and a light heart.
Emily P. Freeman is one wondrous writer, a speaker, who lives with her husband John live in North Carolina with their three children, twins Ava and Stella, and their son, Luke. And she’s a rare listener who literally creates space for the soul to breathe. She is the author of four (pretty amazing) books, including her most recent release — that really is a soul exhale: Simply Tuesday: Small-Moment Living in a Fast-Moving World.
Have you checked out SimplyTuesday.com to watch a free video series Emily created– to give you practical ways to take a soul breath in the presence of Jesus even in the midst of your busy life. The fall shouldn’t start before you check these videos out. Highly recommending Emily’s highly anticipated release, Simply Tuesday: Small-Moment Living in a Fast-Moving World. Seriously– this woman is a soul coach … Pick up this book & your soul will exhale. Can’t stop reading.
[ Our humble thanks to Baker Publishing Group for their partnership of today’s devotion ]
Links for 2015-08-20 [del.icio.us]
...Danny and Anne were married for forty-nine years.
August 19, 2015
how to slow down & savor now
so this woman sings hymns with us on Sunday mornings in our little country chapel, trades kids with us back and forth, shows up in my mudroom to grab my hand to pray, my just-down-the-road heart friend, Angela Koobs, with the next glorious installment of our Unwrapping Series (have you checked these out? Your soul & summer will exhale its thanks to you) so…
I t’s hot and humid outside, one of the hottest days of the year so far – and I’m thinking about Christmas.
I’m thinking about the year that our family opened Christmas presents… all at the same time.
I’m not even sure how it happened but suddenly, all of our kids were opening all of their presents all at the same time.
It was complete chaos.
Our children, their aunts, uncles and grandparents all jammed into a little room.
Packages tearing open, tissue paper flying out of bags, thoughtfully written cards getting lost under piles of crumpled up paper. Gifts that I knew had been carefully, even prayerfully, chosen were lost amidst the shinier, noisier and tastier offerings.
I watched in embarrassment while a child offered an obligatory thank you, while hardly looking at the giver or the gift, and quickly moved on to the next present.
My heart sank as I watched it unfold.
I had failed in teaching my children about receiving gifts with grace and gratefulness. It was a very humbling experience, to say the least.
It was also the first thing I thought of when asked to share about ‘unwrapping the gift of summer’.
Because sitting here on this hot day in August? I’m not so far off my little ones that Christmas – tearing through what He has so graciously given me in this season.
You see, we live on a dairy farm and, between the cows, the crops and the kids, our life is busy.
Like buckle-up-tight-and-hold-on-for-dear-life busy.
And I’m very guilty of rushing about – from the house to the barn to the clothesline to the kitchen to the garden and back again – and, all the while, my mind is racing, my blood pressure is rising and all I can think about is what’s next on my list…and is it naptime yet??
Between the cooking, the cleaning, the diaper changes, the schooling, the farming, the feedings…and the rest of life, well, sometimes I get lost.
And I forget that these days are gifts. Gifts given by a most gracious Father.
And I’m ripping through them, barely stopping to say ‘thanks’, while I’m already thinking about –and worrying about!– the next one.
I know this isn’t His heart. And so I sit quiet in His Word at the start of the day – before the hustle and bustle begins – and I listen. And He offers me grace.
“Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see— how good God is. Blessed are you who run to Him.” (Ps.34:8 MSG).
An invitation for me to join in His goodness, to delight in Him.
And a gentle beckoning : “Show me, Lord, my life’s end and the number of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is. You have made my days a mere handbreadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Everyone is but a breath, even those who seem secure. Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom; in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth without knowing whose it will finally be. But now, Lord, what do I look for? My hope is in you.” (Ps. 39:4-7)
My hope is in YOU. My hope doesn’t come from my accomplished to-do list, my perfectly behaved children or the fleeting dream of what those gardens could look like if I ever kept up with all the weeds?
No. My hope – the gift – is Christ. The grace and glory that He shows me each and every day.
“For from Him and through Him and for Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever! Amen.” (Rom.11:36)
So I’m trying to stop racing – and start resting.
To take a break from lists – and just start listening.
To stop worrying about what’s next and to be amazed by what’s right in front of me.
Because His goodness, His grace and His glory – they’re all around.
I just need to keep my eyes open.
Angela Koobs is a farmer’s daughter, married to farmer in shining coveralls, and after 13 years, 5 moves and 6 different jobs – they’ve ended up right back on the farm where they started out. Only this time there’s a barn full of cows and a house full of half a dozen homeschooled kids.
This family? Is our real life people. Our kids love each other like kin & our men find each other every Sunday after the last hymn. Ang’s washing machine is always running, she’s always making food for someone who is is hungry, and these people always laugh a lot, work hard together and never run out of milk. Every day Ang is humbly reminded how much she doesn’t actually know & is astounded by His grace. Our just-down-the-road friends, Angela shares snippets of faith, family & farm on instagram.
Links for 2015-08-18 [del.icio.us]
@Time ... fascinating
What Bedtime Stories do for Young Brains
@NYTimes... "Children whose parents reported more reading at home and more books in the home showed significantly greater activation of brain areas in a region of the left hemisphere called the parietal-temporal-occipital association cortex." ... keep reading!
Melbourne, Australia, is the most liveable city in the world...
...5th year in a row
August 18, 2015
what the hard week ahead of you right now really needs
Sometimes, even right before it really begins, you’ve got a feeling how the week’s going to go.
I look in the mirror early on a Tuesday morning, the bedhead looking more like a monsterhead, and I look right into that water-splattered mirror.
And tell the woman looking back at me how the next seven days are likely to go down — are going to likely try to take me down.
The mail’s going to bring bills and a sucker punch first thing.
And he’s going to the say wrong thing or nothing or claim he never heard you say a thing, and every time you look away from the clock, time will just up and suck down whole hours like an industrial shop vac and you’ll be left wondering where into the bowels of the world did this week really go?
The inner chamber of the microwave is going to look like a gory battlefield of losing, epic proportions by Tuesday.
You’ll have to clean a toilet. Or regret that you didn’t. The laundry’s going to laugh at you.
And by Thursday, you’ll pull a three inch hair from the chin and you’ll replay who you talked to on Monday and Tuesday this week who must have saw it at an inch and a half.
Right there at the mirror, right at the beginning, the week begins to unfurl in slow, in hope.
And that’s what I whisper into the mirror:
Click here to continue reading…
August 17, 2015
when you have hidden hollow places
Back in the early days of blogging, Amber Haines, this young mama in Arkansas, wrote to me of her love for words and the love of children, and we became friends over the miles. She and I have very different stories, yet there’s a common and wild story between us of God’s love… His love for us all, regardless of our hollow places. It’s a humble grace to welcome Amber Haines to share an excerpt of her new book Wild in the Hollow with us today on the farm’s front porch today…
A month to the day after my abortion, the sun blared in on the morning.
Present and sick, the taste of alcohol still in my mouth, I walked to the shower. My feet touched the warm patch of linoleum on the floor.
Passing the mirror, a girl caught my eye, skinny, pale, dull eyes.
I didn’t recognize her.
I stood and faced myself. The mirror, my idol, she had lied, and I couldn’t stand up anymore.
I put my hands to the floor and braced like the world would quake open, woozy all the way down to my side in the yellow morning sun.
I prayed each breath would be my last.
I waited for the tunnel to take me, the blackness to swallow me whole. I planned to wait until it was done. My entire life—the wildcat scream I had heard as a girl and the laughing trees of my tripping days—it had all led to this.
Giving God an ultimatum is risky, but I had nothing to lose, not anymore, so there on the warm linoleum I said to myself, “I’m here to die.”
I fully believed I would die. And there I gasped my first real breath, as if I’d been swimming up and up from an ear- popping deep.
Michael McClausin
I finally breathed. My body warmed and filled. I drank from the cup from which all metaphors pour. I was Eve again, naked in her garden.
When He breathed, my chest rose.
I was trained to argue, but His breath came when I lay with nothing to say, how broken I was.
I had nothing with which to entice anyone to come to my rescue. I made no argument and no fight; I wasn’t budging in my own power, because I had no power with which to budge.
The presence of God, Spirit, warmed my blood and assembled my bones. I crawled to the bed, like one who heard a voice in the desert, saw fire in the bush.
A path cleared in me. I whispered, “I am free”— lungs full of air. I was newborn.
The weight of legions lifted, taste of forbidden fruit gone from the mouth, sting of death removed.
The Bible from class was on the bed, and I drank it like hindmilk. I was broken but filled. The hush in my spirit, this was freedom, the presence of God.
Freedom is peace.
The first of many births I would witness was my own. I was born into the light.
I would have waited on that linoleum floor until I starved, waited there to be raised from the dead, or be made dead, whichever.
I can’t explain the difference in what was happening in my head and in my heart and in my body. It was all taking new form.
I didn’t lie down so that when I stood up I might believe. I lay down to die because I was done with moving about in a body that had no life.
The fact that the presence of God was so obvious, like Road-to-Damascus obvious, was absolutely shocking to me. I had never felt so pursued or so loved, and love is what got me up off the floor.
As my eyes came open to something so simple as love, that God loves me, I was overcome with new desire: more than for a warm body—for skin on skin; more than for the taste of home— biscuits and gravy on a family morning; and more than for any drug to numb my pain.
I didn’t know who I was, filling with such delight, the allure of God. His meeting me on the floor was my release from being bogged down in self-awareness and loathing. He released me from feeling required to entice love, to always make an offering.
I became aware of God who loved me first.
Suddenly, only God was beautiful. Suddenly, I saw through to the unseen, how He stood outside of time for me, and how He sent His Spirit into my time.
I didn’t know myself anymore, because I was new. I didn’t know what to wear, and so I would ask him. Food tasted different on grateful lips. Three days after I crawled on that floor, I found my cigarettes and threw them in the trash. That’s how I quit smoking, how I became found in the only shameless way to lose oneself.
Who was I?
I was born a daughter of self-aware Eve in Alabama and then born again through the gospel to freedom, to God awareness.
I became one who kisses Jesus’s feet, hair soaked in tears, delighted to be known and desiring only God, and that was enough.
Jesus Himself traveled the abyss and through time to meet me on the floor of a dorm room to lavish me with truth.
And then I learned to walk with God. Isn’t that what Eden was about, man and woman unashamed in the presence of God? That’s what was promised to Abraham too—a land flowing with milk and honey, where God would be God in the midst of his people.
When Christ came, when He entered the world into barn air, deep had called into the deep of a woman, and His name was Emmanuel, God with us.
It’s been the plan all along, the call on every life—we are created beings with the capacity to hold God.
I knew the story—God started with Adam and Eve, breathed life into them both, and called them good. But then desire for the fruit made paths outside of Eden and up into babbling towers.
That same Creator God came like breath to me. Like mouth-to-mouth, He breathed in me on a linoleum floor. He called me good. How is it that He chose to grow within young Mary? How is it that He chose to grow within me?
God offers Himself that way, life in place of death, holy desire replacing deceitful desire, life planted and growing and filling all the hollows of a soul.
I would later learn that Jesus tells us to come to Him, all we empty and weary ones.
Those of us who can’t bear up under the weight of the void any longer, He tells us to come.
Come, and He will take our heavy and fill our empty, because He is meek and humble. He gets low down. And when Jesus gets on the floor with you, you will indeed find rest for your soul, a place to belong.
Maybe the path to Jesus is paved with linoleum.
I learned that Jesus, our God-man, could have considered Himself and said, “Look at how ridiculously awesome I am, people. Now worship.”
But instead He emptied Himself, taking on the nature of a servant, obedient to death, not considering equality with God a thing to be grasped.
This was my experience, sister to Jesus that I am.
I gave up, obedient to death—even death on a linoleum floor—and He roared in.
The God of the universe filled me at my very lowest, my emptiest.
Light ruptures dark every time.
Amber Haines, author of Wild in the Hollow, has 4 sons, theRunaMuck, and guitar-playing husband, Seth Haines. She’s an Alabama girl who’s found home in Arkansas. She loves the funky, the lyrical narrative, and the gritty South.
If you’ve ever been homesick, wrestling with desire, or covered in shame, get your hands on Wild in the Hollow, Amber’s story of wandering and wondering and coming Home.
[ Our humble thanks to Baker Publishing Group for their partnership of today’s devotion ]
August 15, 2015
Only the Good Stuff: Multivitamins for Your Weekend [08.15.15]
Happy, happy, happy weekend!
Some real, down in the bones JOY to celebrate today! Links & stories this week 100% guaranteed to make you smile a mile wide & believe like crazy in a Good God redeeming everything — and that there’s love everywhere & for ((you))! Serving up only the Good Stuff for you right here:
Antony Harrison
Antony Harrison
Antony Harrison
ahhhhh…. your weekend soul exhale
well… that’s a wake up!
Emily Gibson
sometimes you just need to experience some beauty
… three words we all need to hear…
Peter Tsai
Peter Tsai
Peter Tsai
grin
Gillian Abbott
rest
Eduard Gutescu
faisal azim
sarah wouters
your free ticket to tour the world
yeah… park wisely?
Perfect for stocking up for a child who needs some encouragement:
God Made Light – Floor Puzzle : Night Light : Encouragement Notes for Kids (each only $5)
Zahariz
Zahariz
Zahariz
6 weeks. 2 horses. 1 unbelievable adventure
swimming with whales
one fading house. one elderly man. one guy’s Facebook request. The after shot? Choked me up
Boulder County Sheriff
turns out it’s wise to stop for owls
maybe community looks like this
Sweetwater Portraits
yep, you’re never too old to be a bridesmaid – you gotta love it
journey around the world in 3 years: wonder is the beginning of worship
Mike Burley/Telegraph Herald via AP
If kids read to him? He’ll cut their hair for free – okay, this
so…did you know that?
a fascinating look at the frequency of English words
mom sells hugs — to raise money for daughter with cancer
hummingbird’s iridescent feathers. pure glory
This is What I Wish You Would Say When Your Child Points at My Daughter
Leading a lost friend to water — pretty beautiful
Post of the Month from these parts here:
…maybe the hardest post I’ve ever scratched down?
but with all those videos going around, well —
An Honest Conversation About Abortion that Asks us Not to Turn Away — from Anyone:
oh, you know: 72 year old wins gold in the team bocce event
How it all began and how it will never end. The story that redeems all stories.
we are Your church…
Hey Soul? yeah, sometimes it’s ridiculously hard to know how to live through the stuff we’re facing & you know, maybe this is it, just these three things:
“Be cheerful — no matter what; (#1)
pray — all the time; (#2)
thank God — no matter what happens. (#3)
This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.” 1Thess5:18
There’s everybody’s map through right now —
Be 1.Cheerful, 2. Prayerful & 3. Thankful — to keep the day from becoming 4. Awful.
Today’s total game changer: There is always, always, always something to be thankful for.
[excerpted from our devotions in our little Facebook community … come join us?]
That’s all for this weekend, friends.
Go slow. Be God-struck. Grant grace. Live Truth.
Give Thanks. Love well. Re – joy, re- joy, ‘re- joys’ again
Share Whatever Is Good.
August 14, 2015
how quiet marriages may be the most exciting marriages of all
This man’s words have mentored me, our family, a whole generation — because he turns everything & looks at it through fresh eyes. Gary Thomas and his wife got married fully expecting dramatic days and dynamic opportunities–but what if God planned to take them through decades of quiet years and simple obedience? What if God’s primary intent for a marriage isn’t to make you happy . . . but holy? Gary writes how our marriage is more than a sacred covenant with another person. It is a spiritual discipline designed to help you know God better, trust Him more fully, and love Him more deeply. It’s a grace to welcome the words and wisdom of Gary Thomas to the farm’s front porch today…
T hroughout the nine months of our engagement, Lisa and I made many plans, as any engaged couple does.
We talked about missions, family, serving God—you name it.
It was an intense time, and we often prayed, “Lord, wherever you want to take us, however you want to use us, we’re all yours.”
Of course, we made the assumption that whatever God would want us to do would be thrilling, exciting, fulfilling and dramatic.
Enter “real life.”
We spent our first few months of marriage living in a tiny home, offered to us rent-free by a family friend.
I left for work two days after we got back, and Lisa was stranded in a small community, out in the middle of nowhere, and she began to cry.
It was a sunny day, so she called me at work and asked if I could come home early so we could drive to a lake.
I thought she was crazy. “I can’t leave work just because the weather’s nice!” I protested. “Besides, I just started this job!”
“Well what’s the use of getting married if I see you less now than when we were engaged?” she complained.
What’s the use, indeed?
Fast-forward ten years.
We had three small children, two of them in diapers, and even though we were in ministry, life still wasn’t “exciting.”
We were barely making it financially, snuggled into a town house, and about to enter our Friday-night ritual—laundry and a rented movie.
“What do you want to watch?” I asked Lisa as I gathered my keys and headed out the door.
“Oh, how about a nice romantic comedy?” Lisa answered.
I cringed.
The last three videos we had watched together had been romantic comedies. If I had to watch another impossibly beautiful couple “meet cute” under extremely improbable circumstances, fall in love, get in a fight, and then spend sixty minutes falling back in love again, I thought I’d lose it.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I just can’t do it. I have to see at least one building blow up and one car crash. If I can find something that has a little romance to add to that, I’ll see what I can do.”
I took three steps out the door, then thought to myself, “When did, ‘Please, God, change the world through us’ suddenly become, ‘Should we watch Arnold Schwarzenegger or Julia Roberts?’ ” I didn’t remember any flashing neon signs that pointed in that direction, but somehow, somewhere, it had happened.
I remembered the intensity of the night on which we had become engaged; the joyful getting to know each other on our honeymoon; filling out a preliminary application for a mission organization; bringing our first child home—but now, ten years later, we had “evolved” into spending Friday nights watching other people fall in love according to the machinations of a Hollywood script.
That night I didn’t have any answers for the ordinariness of marriage, but taking an honest look at my situation definitely shook me awake.
What was this thing called marriage? Was there no more purpose to it than this?
Perhaps God wanted us to embrace what Paul wrote about to Timothy: “That we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness.” (1 Timothy 2:2)
We wanted exciting drama, but what if God wanted redeemed people, faithful in their anonymity and their tiny townhome?
Living in such close quarters, our marriage was indeed giving us an opportunity to embrace the potential to grow in godliness and holiness to such an extent that I even began to ask the question that became the subtitle for Sacred Marriage: “What if God designed marriage to make us holy more than to make us happy?”
This isn’t to suggest that happiness and holiness are contradictory.
On the contrary, I believe we’ll live the happiest, most joy-filled lives when we walk in obedience.
John Wesley taught that it is not possible for a man to be happy who is not also pursuing holiness.
Think about it: who can be truly “happy” while filled with anger, rage, and malice?
Who can be happy while nursing resentment or envy?
Who can be honestly happy who is caught in the sticky compulsion of an insatiable lust or unceasing materialism?
The glutton may enjoy his food, but he does not enjoy his condition.
So I’m not anti-happiness; that would be silly. The problem I’m trying to address is that a “happy marriage” (defined romantically and in terms of ever-pleasant feelings) is too often the end game of most marriage books (even Christian marriage books).
This is a false promise. You won’t find happiness at the end of a road named selfishness.
Sacred Marriage looks and points beyond marriage. Spiritual growth is the main theme; marriage is simply the context.
Just as celibates use abstinence and religious hermits use isolation, so we can use marriage for the same purpose—to grow in our service, obedience, character, pursuit, and love of God.
For centuries, Christian spirituality was virtually synonymous with “celibate spirituality,” that is, even married people thought we had to become like monks and nuns to grow in the Lord.
We’d have to do the same spiritual exercises, best performed by single people (long periods of prayer that don’t allow for child rearing or marital discussion, seasons of fasting that make preparing meals for a family difficult, times of quiet meditation that seem impossible when kids of any age are in the house) rather than seeing how God could use our marriages to help us grow in character, in prayer, in worship, and service.
Rather than develop a spirituality in which marriage serves our pursuit of holiness, the church focused on how closely married people could mimic “single spirituality” without neglecting their family. The family thus became an obstacle to overcome rather than a platform to spiritual growth.
The reason the marriage relationship is often seen as a selfish one is because our motivations for marrying often are selfish.
But it’s possible to reclaim marriage as one of the most selfless states a Christian can enter: a setting full of opportunities to foster spiritual growth and service to God.
You’ve probably already realized that there was a purpose for your marriage that went beyond happiness.
You might not have chosen the word “holiness” to express it, but you understood there was a transcendent truth beyond the superficial romance depicted in popular culture.
Far from assaulting our happiness, pursuing the biblical holiness of a quiet and godly life in marriage enhances it by giving us a new appreciation for the person with whom we walk this journey.
When you realize something is “sacred,” far from making it boring — it gives birth to a new awe, a new reverence, a take-your-breath away realization that something you’ve perhaps taken for granted is far more profound, far more powerful, far more life-giving and life-transforming than perhaps you’ve ever realized.
I love marriage, and I love my marriage.
I love the fun parts, the easy parts, the pleasurable parts, but also the difficult parts, the parts that frustrate me but help me understand myself and my spouse on a deeper level; the parts that are painful but that crucify the aspects of me that I hate; the parts that force me to my knees and teach me that I need to learn to love with God’s love instead of just trying harder.
Marriage has led me to deeper levels of understanding, more pronounced worship, and a sense of fellowship that I never knew existed.
What you want from your marriage — has a huge impact on your satisfaction within marriage.
If you want to grow in holiness,
marriage is one of the best, most fulfilling places to be.
Gary Thomas is Writer-in-Residence (and serves on the teaching team) at Second Baptist Church, Houston, Texas and author of 18 books that have sold over a million copies worldwide and have been translated into a dozen languages. He and his wife Lisa have been married for 30 years.
The revised edition of Sacred Marriage takes into account the ways men’s and women’s lives have expanded since the book was first written. It has been streamlined to be a faster read without losing the depth that so many readers have valued. Whether it is delightful or difficult, your marriage can become a doorway to a closer walk with God, and to a spiritual integrity that, like salt, seasons the world around you with the savor of Christ.
Give yourself the gift of a deeply meaningful marriage: Highly recommending, Sacred Marriage: What if God Designed Marriage to Make Us Holy More Than to Make Us Happy?
[ Our humble thanks to Zondervan for their partnership of today’s devotion ]
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