Elizabeth Forkey's Blog, page 3

I’m the Ass!

Exodus 34:20

The firstborn of a donkey you shall redeem with a lamb, or if you will not redeem it you shall break its neck. All the firstborn of your sons you shall redeem. And none shall appear before me empty- handed.

I was trying to think of how to make this verse relevant for you. It’s important, believe it or not, and it has an amazing lesson hidden in its archaic history. But you can’t learn from it if you don’t care about it or find it valid in your life today. So, how do I convince you that these old words and strange customs affect you now?

God gave this commandment to Moses when Moses was on Mount Sinai getting the Ten Commandments. Boom. Validity! Is thou shalt not murder still valid today? What about thou shalt not steal? Those Ten Commandments transcend history and serve as a religious starting point for more than just followers of Christ. They are ten fantastic rules that have shaped our morality. If the verse above was given in the same dialog between God and Moses, lets assume it also has some powerful purpose.

God told Moses that He (God) wanted the first fruits of Israel’s animals and crops. Why? Those of you who haven’t studied the Bible much might look at this weird, ancient command about slitting animals throats and say, “that’s exactly why I don’t study that Book.” It seems crazy, I know, but bear with me. This is going somewhere.

First fruits were basically taxes. We Americans have the benefit of living in America where we have freedoms that most of the world doesn’t have. Because we are Americans, we pay taxes to help pay for those freedoms and the people who provide them. Our taxes are due to the authority. The authority requires our taxes and we pay them because we belong under that authority. Tada! First fruits=taxes. God asked his people, the nation of Israel to pay a tax that acknowledged and reminded them that they belonged under His protection and His authority.

So the first fruit of every animal and every crop was given to God to thank Him for providing that crop and those animals and those blessings. Today we call it our tithe. We give The Lord a tithe, 10%, of our income to thank Him for His provision and acknowledge that all we have came from him.

But there was a problem. The Israelites owned donkeys and donkeys were unclean meat. They weren’t supposed to sacrifice unclean meat to God. God doesn’t make exceptions though. His law is His law. The donkey’s first born had to be given but God didn’t approve of the sacrifice. So he made a way for the law to be fulfilled. A lamb could be given in the donkey’s place.

Charles Spurgeon puts it so eloquently: “My soul, here is a lesson for thee. That unclean animal is thyself; thou art justly the property of the Lord who made thee and preserves thee, but thou art so sinful that God will not, cannot, accept thee; and it has come to this, the Lamb of God must stand in thy stead, or thou must die eternally.”

He says, “Self, You are that ass.”

We are unclean and the law says that we must die. If a lamb wasn’t given, the newborn baby donkey was to have its neck broken. It seems heartless! A tragedy! I bet baby donkeys are crazy adorable. We’re pretty adorable in our own estimation too. We don’t see things from our holy Creator’s perspective.

We have black sin in our hearts. So much sin that we’ve been lost across a great ocean from the relationship we were originally created to have with our Creator. We can’t begin to swim that ocean on our own. The water’s are so expansive and our muscles will never be strong enough. The separation between sinful us and perfect perfect perfect God is too wide. No amount of effort or goodness on our own will get us across.

But He is so good. He didn’t leave us in this helpless state! A Lamb was provided, God’s own perfect Son, Jesus. He came to earth and lived among us and died a horrible death on the cross to meet the requirement that we never could. Then, in an incredible display of His power and authority, He came back to life three days later—conquering our sin and paying the ransom against us that we couldn’t afford.

He is The One. Your Creator. Your heart’s missing piece. Your fulfillment of every good desire you’ve ever had. Your Brother. Your Friend. Your Captain. Your Life’s Breath. Your Authority. He LOVES you! It’s ridiculous, you know. You were made of dust and cells. You are one sinner in 100 Billion. You do not begin to compare in value to the God of the universe. Him dying for you is the most nonsensical thing that anyone ever did for you.

Charles Spurgeon says any thinking man (Israelite) had to stop and consider which animal they’d rather lose. If the donkey was born a runt, or crippled from its mother’s womb, I’m sure no lamb was given for it. How much more should we consider what was given in our place. Jesus died for ax murderers. He died for child molesters. He died for the worst of the worst. He died for you no matter what sin you have on your ledger and His death will wipe the score card clean. In His own words, “The healthy don’t need a doctor, the sick do. The Son of Man came to seek and to save that which was LOST.”

The death of a donkey is momentary. Pain and then nothing. Donkeys don’t have souls. You have been created in God’s image. You are unique in creation because you are eternal. You have a soul that will go on and on and on after death. The Bible says there are only two states we can exist in after this: Heaven (God’s presence) and Hell (the absence of God’s presence). It is only Hell because God is not there. God is light and peace and joy and all things good in the world. Take him away and you are left with only pain and misery and great suffering.

If you won’t accept His death and His authority, you will carry on with sin in your heart. The sin will stand between you and Him on the day of your death like an uncrossable ocean. It will be too late then. It’s a choice you must make now. He’s willing to cancel your debt with the substitution of His perfect sacrifice. If you choose Him now, and bow to His loving authority, You will be saved! Heaven will meet you when your eyes close for the last time! Glory!

But if you will not… If you look to these ancient words and say, “what is that ass to me?”, then you face the fate of the lamest of donkeys. Please, accept my amazing Savior! He is so wonderful! I’m holding out a bazillion dollar prize to you! All you have to do is cash it in!

Adapted from Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening for Oct. 15:

Every firstborn creature must be the Lord’s, but since the ass was unclean, it could not be presented in sacrifice. What then? Should it be allowed to go free from the universal law? By no means. God admits of no exceptions. The ass is His due, but He will not accept it; He will not abate the claim, but yet He cannot be pleased with the victim. No way of escape remained but redemption-the creature must be saved by the substitution of a lamb in its place; or if not redeemed, it must die. My soul, here is a lesson for thee. That unclean animal is thyself; thou art justly the property of the Lord who made thee and preserves thee, but thou art so sinful that God will not, cannot, accept thee; and it has come to this, the Lamb of God must stand in thy stead, or thou must die eternally. Let all the world know of thy gratitude to that spotless Lamb who has already bled for thee, and so redeemed thee from the fatal curse of the law. Must it not sometimes have been a question with the Israelite which should die, the ass or the lamb? Would not the good man pause to estimate and compare? Assuredly there was no comparison between the value of the soul of man and the life of the Lord Jesus, and yet the Lamb dies, and man the ass is spared. My soul, admire the boundless love of God to thee and others of the human race. Worms are bought with the blood of the Son of the Highest! Dust and ashes redeemed with a price far above silver and gold! What a doom had been mine had not plenteous redemption been found! The breaking of the neck of the ass was but a momentary penalty, but who shall measure the wrath to come to which no limit can be imagined? Inestimably dear is the glorious Lamb who has redeemed us from such a doom.

Intimacy… But Not THAT Kind

When starting out on a long road trip, you have options. You can follow your own sense of direction and take the turns that seem logical to you. That’s the adventuresome way of tackling it. Other folks, with a long road before them, choose to consult maps and plug in their GPS. Still others would go to someone who had already driven that way. They’d ask for the prettiest back roads or recommendations for great restaurants along the way.

Marriage is a trip. I mean, marriage is like a long road trip. You can be adventuresome and go it on your own—careful though, some of those high-traffic streets are dead ends. If you’re lost, you can seek council from a marriage counselor. This is a great option, like studying a map of the road that’s been proven to get people to their destination—even through construction and detours. I am no marriage councelor. I do, however, know some things firsthand as someone who has been driving this highway for awhile. Someone who has slid around bends on wet roads at night and miraculously lived to give warning. I don’t claim to have half of the answers. I only know that Ron and I have gotten to be increasingly better drivers during the journey. We can spot the potholes better, we’re more patient in times of construction, we have our road rage under control (mostly).

Ron and I have been married for fourteen years and we dated for five years before we got married. I’ve known this man for nineteen years. That seems long. It makes me feel old! It’s also the single greatest blessing in my life to date.

Last night I hurt his feelings. To be honest, it always catches me off guard. I too often think we have “arrived”. That we’re as good at this game as the old people who have made it forty years to our fourteen. Nope. Still stinking it up on at least a weekly basis. I’d say one or the other of us has to apologize AT LEAST once a week. I can think of two times in the last three weeks that were downright totally my fault. Recovering from the bumps and bruises we cause each other is hard. But that’s what intimacy is you know? We were made for intimacy. It is an innate part of our humanity. To be so close to someone that you feel completely understood. Completely accepted. Loved no matter what. The statistics say that only a small percentage of marriages have true intimacy.

Intimacy can be sex, but so much of the time it’s a bunch of other things that are equally (if not way more) important than sex. Ron and I have seen a lot of marriages fail. We’ve watched close friends break their vows. We’ve hurt with family members who have found themselves a detached part of a whole that endured a murderous blow. We almost lost this game ourselves. If intimacy is the key to a healthy marriage, how is it developed? Is it something you have from the start or do you learn it over time?

You know how I said we were made for intimacy? Well, Ron and I sure were. I remember how desperate we were for it when we first fell in love. I was sixteen and he was seventeen and we were both longing for someone to love us. I don’t know if we knew it then or could’ve put it into those words, but looking back it’s laughably obvious. We fell and we fell hard. We neglected our friends and our studies. We spent every minute we could together. We chewed each other’s gum. We kissed and tried to go as long as possible breathing each other’s air. (Isn’t that creepy and adorable?) We crossed the lines God lovingly put into place for us in a desperate search for as much intimacy as possible.

At the time I would’ve said we were “madly in love” or “head over heels.” Really though, we were just two kids who were dying to feel loved by someone and who also happened to be super attracted to each other. We lucked out—or in—or whatever that expression is. We didn’t follow the rules, we did it all wrong. We sinned against God and, in His great graciousness, He kept us together. A+B didn’t equal C and we got something we didn’t deserve: grace and a relationship that kept working when it shouldn’t have.

We got married. Take a moment to laugh with me here. Does it sound like these two dummies had a shot? We hated each other within the first two weeks. We fell victim to all the classics. Bitterness, unmet needs, unmet expectations, a listening ear with someone of the opposite sex— People…we screwed everything up. I mean everything.

So. How are we together today and actually madly in love? I’ll share with you what I think has built Ron and I into the professional drivers (ha ha) that we are today.

1. Divorce was never an option. I’m a runner. I don’t like conflict. If the zombie apocalypse happens I will be bit and turned by the very first zombie I come across. Ron loves this trait in me (not true) But, when it came to divorce, neither of us wanted that failure. I think it’s because we somehow knew that divorce WAS the harder option. Lawyers, shame, failure, moving back home with our parents (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) sounded worse than staying together. So we stayed. Everyone makes divorce seem easier than sticking. When marriage gets bad enough that you are considering or even talking about divorce, running away can seem like a welcome relief from the stress and conflict. It’s a lie though peeps. From the divorces I’ve witnessed and the consequences I’ve seen, sticking is definitely worth it in the long run!

Disclaimer: Some parents and/or friends make divorce easier on people. They step in and help out with a listening ear and a safe place to go. They let their loved ones get away with stepping out of the contract they made whether it’s good for them or not. If Ron and I had a cushy place to bail all those years ago, we would have. And we would’ve missed out on the greatest thing that ever happened to either of us. Get mad at me if you want, that’s just the honest truth with no punches pulled. This article isn’t about the past. If you’re divorced and remarried, this is for you now. This marriage is the one you must not give up on.

2. The second most important thing in our marriage? Ron and I laugh a lot. Let me remind you that this is not a biblical list I’m compiling. I think I could find scripture to back up all of my points, but there are hundreds of articles out there that do that. This is our testimony and our story. That dude cracks me up. One of my favorite things about him is his ability to laugh at himself. He’s taught me how to laugh at myself. In Sunday School this past Sunday our teacher finished the lesson talking about a man’s duty. He said duty over and over again. Ron and I are thirty-five and thirty-six now. We barely held the laughter in. We glanced at each other’s watering eyes and did our best to not interrupt the last few minutes of the class’ discussion. If you don’t get what’s funny about someone saying the word duty over and over again then you could consider practicing your sense of humor. It will carry you far in marriage.

3. We are both good forgetters. This is probably the best thing we have going for us since we both have wronged each other so many times. Ron is a look forward and don’t dwell on the past kind of guy. It’s a trait he has cultivated his whole life, partly because his young life was tough. He had some really hard, sad things happen to him as a kid. He could’ve held onto all that damage and let it scar him and morph him into “The Thing” but he didn’t. He doesn’t do the victim thing – and he totally could have. No one would’ve blamed him if he had turned out a bit bruised from all the tough stuff. My forgetter is less a trait and more that I’m like the fish, Dory, in Finding Nemo.

Dory: “I have short term memory loss. It runs in my family. At least, I think it does. Hmmm. Where are they?” Yup, I’m Dory.

So, Ron forgave me for all the garbage I pulled in the early years and continues to forgive me for the insensitive moments I still have today. And I forgive him for all the times he… And that time he… and that other thing he did…. Which leads me to my next point….

4. Don’t talk bad about your spouse. It’s one of the topics we’ve covered in Sunday School lately that has most challenged me. I know I’ve done it. I’ve told my mom or my sister or my best friend that irritating, ungodly thing Ron did and how I’m worried it will affect our kids and how I wish he would read his Bible more and change…You know what? I can honestly say that Ron NEVER talks bad about me. This is due in part to the fact that Ron doesn’t share personal information with anyone. He doesn’t want people to know anything about him. (Poor guy, he married me!) But I know that all my worst moments and all my embarrassing traits and all my failures are locked in the vault. He never embarrasses me or vents about me to friends or throws me under the bus for being human. I’ve got a long way to go in being as good at that as him. When our secrets and failures are safe with each other, self-esteem and trust are formed. Self-esteem is dire in this quest to stay married. If you don’t feel safe with your spouse you can’t be honest. If you can’t be honest, love dies.

5. Dating. EVERY OTHER MARRIAGE ARTICLE SAYS IT. Ron and I aren’t very good at it. Money gets tight, we’re terrible at giving our kids to anyone, and…. no wait, those are the only two reasons. But we spend time together almost every day. We tuck those kids in and watch a funny show. We obsessively watch whole seasons of Fringe until 1a.m. at which point we eat something terribly unhealthy and totally regret it but we finished that pie off together dangit! We tell each other about our day and we don’t make big decisions without each other. We powwow. We communicate. We’re besties.

6. We are finally learning how to let each other be different than what we thought we wanted. When we were young, I can’t tell you how many times we walked away from a conversation and I immediately got yelled at for saying too much, talking too much, sharing something I shouldn’t have. It got to where I was always nervous when engaging in a conversation with someone and Ron. These days, we walk away from conversations and I say, “Was that ok what I said? Are you ok with me?” and Ron says, “Yes! I love that you shared that. I think it was just what that person needed.” He’s letting me be me.

Conversely, I’m learning to let him be him. When we were kids, I thought that a Christian looked like this: my dad. My dad who never swore in his whole life, never drank a beer, never tasted a cigarette. Poor Ron. What a tall order to live up to! (Of course, now I know my dad had his own list of sins and mistakes – don’t we all!) Ron likes to play video games and sometimes those video games have swearing in them. I used to think that made him a HORRIBLE Christian. But Ron is different than me. He has a different background. He has different strengths. He doesn’t get stressed out by swear words (though he’s super respectful to never play them when the kids are awake). You know what? Ron’s a lot more godly than I am in a lot of ways. He’s a very good man. I respect the crap out of him. I’m learning that he can handle some of the things that I can’t and it doesn’t make him a bad Christian. He doesn’t have to look like the presupposed picture I had. I’m lucky to have gotten so much more than what I thought I wanted. The Bible says, “Love covers a multitude of sins.” I think we make more sins for each other when we have a list of rules and specs to live up to. When we decide to unabashedly love our spouse just the way he/she is, there is so much less opportunity for us to fail each other and God.

7. I feel bad that I’ve put this one last. It should’ve been first. Jesus. Jesus in the reason we are happy and in love and finding intimacy together today. Both of us know Him. Both of us love Him. Both of us trust Him and agree that His plan is best. If you aren’t both on the same page spiritually, you can’t achieve true and lasting intimacy. You can’t drive two different routes and say that you went for a drive together. You might be able to get to the same destination, but it wasn’t as “one flesh” like God says it was meant to be. There are too many things to disagree on in this life. The intricacies of finances and how to raise kids and where to spend our time and what we should value. Even with Ron and I both following Jesus, we still disagree on these things all the time! It’s in those times that believing the same thing matters most.

I believe that Ron is the boss of our home. I know that a team can’t follow two captains. The captains will disagree and the team will fall apart. There has to be one person, and I believe with all my heart that it is the man, that makes the final call. It stings sometimes, but friends, it works. I could write pages about this one. I could tell you all the reasons it has worked for us and list all the benefits. But if you aren’t willing to try it, there’s no point. I’ve found incredible fulfillment and satisfaction in being Ron’s helpmeet. It’s an old fashioned word but it’s as valid as the Word of God. Studying what it meant changed our marriage and our life. I was created to be Ron’s helper and it’s been the greatest blessing afforded to me.

I’m sure there are other things I could write about that helped us get to where we are now, successful instead of failing miserably. But these 7 stand out to me as vitally important. I know we have a long way to go. I still need to teach myself how to like football and heaven knows I still talk too much. But today, fourteen years into this drive, I’m sure that we’ll make it to our destination. I couldn’t always say that. I pray for each of you that read this that you find encouragement and value in this testimony of ours. If a Forkey and a Cusato could make this thing work, I know that God can give you the same success and then some!

I do it! All-by-myselss!

How lovely on the mountains

Are the feet of him who brings good news,

Who announces peace

And brings good news of happiness,

Who announces salvation,

And says to Zion, “Your God reigns!” Isaiah 52:7

I do it! All-by-myselss!

My two year old’s favorite phrase right now. She wants to feed herselss. Dress herselss. And, last weekend, climb Stone Mountain all by herselss! We were enjoying a warm, colorful Fall day at Georgia’s Stone Mountain Park with our Sunday School class. Of course, the most important thing on the itinerary for the day was climbing the mountain. I had never climbed it, but reputable sources said it wasn’t that tough, only about a mile. One of them claimed to have done it as a three year old. Pshaw. Easy. Ron and I confidently turned down the offer of a ride up on the sky lift.

Sure we had a bulky bag of “necessities” (you know, extra pants and panties for just in case, Swedish fish, Minnie Mouse, two skeins of yarn and a crochet project, a bottle of Orange Crush – the necessities). Along with our bulky bag we also had our “light weight” travel stroller. In other words, we were more heavy laden than we realized as we naively started up the gently meandering climb through the Autumn woods at the base of the world’s largest granite deposit.

At first Rosie’s diligence was downright cute. It was slowing the group down to have to move at her clumsy pace but she was so insistent about her independence. She wouldn’t let me hold her hand and she fell flat on her face three times tripping over protruding tree roots on the path. To her credit, each time she fell she hopped back up, proclaimed, “I ok!” and resumed her toddler jog. Ron carried the stroller and I carried the bag and we smiled at her as we followed close by. The first leg of our climb was carefree and fun. We didn’t know what lay ahead.

It started to get a little harder and a little steeper. I couldn’t let Rosie climb on her own, it was too dangerous. If she tripped here, she could tumble down the steep hill. She was not cool with being carried. She wanted down! Ron and I juggled her back and forth, taking turns between the heavy bag/stroller combo and our chubby toddler. (Maybe I should’ve packed carrot sticks and water instead of gummy fish and soda hmm?) Our friends started offering to help.

Let me tell you, Ron and I are not great at accepting help. We, like Rosie, would prefer to do it “all by myselse!” If we had known this journey was going to require so much leaning on others, we would’ve forsaken the climb. But, too late now, it was either die of a heart attack on that mountain or let someone help. After more deliberation than was healthy, we gave in and let our friends help. A helping hand took the stroller. Our sunday school teacher put Rosie on his shoulders and I panted on behind them—enjoying the adorable view of Rosie’s little butt crack peeking out of the top of her pants.

It got worse! It got steeper! I thought I might not make it! Rosie got super fussy. She had never napped all day. She kept crying for me to hold her, but I was physically incapable of carrying her up the steepest parts of the mountain. Someone said this thing was a one mile hike! I wanted to push that someone off the mountain. When we had gone about two miles up – straight up – we passed a group of people coming down. “Only about another mile,” they said. “You’re almost there!” said a lady in her sixties.

Her late sixties.

I would’ve been way better at the climb if I wasn’t carrying so much baggage, I told myself!

Rosie’s crying was ruining the “peaceful” climb. She only wanted mommy. Daddy wouldn’t do. So I tried to carry her and Ron literally walked behind me with a finger through my belt loop trying to “lift” me up the challenging incline.

Laughable my friends. It was laughable.

We scraped and struggled our way to the top. I was so exhausted when my trembling legs finally reached the summit, I barely enjoyed the view. Everyone else stood around and “oohed and ahed” at the breathtaking panorama around us. Breath-taken described me physically—and slightly concerned that I was experiencing the onset of a coronary. I just wanted to curl up on a public bench and take a nap.

How like life! If we had known, setting out, how hard life might get, would we have looked for an easier way up? If we had known how much help we’d need to make it, would we have chosen to climb the mountain? Like Rosie, we want to do it on our own and our Heavenly Father knows it’s too dangerous for our imbalanced legs. A fall on the steep cliffs of life can do irreversible damage.

Jesus wants to pick us up and carry us over the mountainous trials of life; but we cry out for someone else’s help. When strong, capable Daddy wants to carry us, we’d rather have wimpy, struggling to breath mommy. We go to people instead of God so often. Instead of dropping to our knees in prayer when we realize the mountain is too much, we head to our email for moral support.

And don’t get me started on the baggage of our “necessities”—over-full schedules and “must-do” lists that help us feel like we are worth something. But all that stuff only weighs us down. You know the lists: I’m only a good mom if I have family pictures taken at least once a year. I’m only a good wife if I cook a great meal every night of the week. I’m only a good Christian if I…

Let’s enjoy the view friends. Let’s look out from these tough mountains we’re climbing and search for God’s presence. Let’s climb on His shoulders—even though our butt crack might hang out a little—and rest confident in His ability to carry us through.

The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety.

Psalm 18:2

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A New Adventure

The glory of young men is their strength,

And the splendor of old men is their gray head.

Proverbs 20:29

I’m neither. And it’s a challenge to find myself in the ethereal middle ground. If I had to be honest, I feel more old than young. And though there are a few gray hairs now, graciously hidden throughout the curly long brown ones, I am still years away from the “splendor” of old age.

Things that make me feel young:

1.  I still have my Strawberry Shortcake collection and that cheery faced, red yarn haired girl still make me smile.

2.  I enjoy Saturday morning cartoons as much or more than my kids.

3.  Disney’s new movie is almost here and I’m anticipating new favorite songs to sing.

4.  I wear my mostly brown hair in braided pigtails at least once a month.

5.  My favorite books reside on the Youth and Young Adult shelf.

6.  Suncrest Camp is still my favorite place on earth to be.

Things that make me feel old:

1.  My knees hurt… often.

2.  Those afore mentioned gray hairs!

3.  I’ve been with Ron for 18 years. Um, how is that possible?

4.  I have a twelve year old.

5.  Things that Ron and I used to fight about have turned into mostly pleasant encouraging conversations devoid of the insecurities and immature selfishness that those hot button issues used to pulsate with.

6.  The butterflies of young love are gone. There are more moths in my stomach than Monarchs these days. If you were to open the closet of my heart, the moths of long-suffering and day-to-day duty would fly out in numbers leaving behind the holes they’ve eaten in the fuzzy feelings of my teenage wardrobe.

Well, despite my cellulite, forehead wrinkles, and the second list above, I wrote a book for young women. I wrote INFECtIOUS to encourage teenagers and young adults to find excitement in a life lived for our awesome, powerful, miracle-working Jesus. Ivy’s story is nothing like my life and yet so much like me and so full of the feelings that rule a hormonal, young Christian girl’s heart. I remember.

The other night Ron and I were watching a show on T.V. and the hero and heroine shared their first kiss. If you are feminine and girly like me, watching first kisses makes feelings in you. You can actually feel the butterflies that a first kiss hatches. You remember your own first kisses with clarity and, probably, with longing. It has been a long time since Ron and I had our first kiss. To be honest, I can’t even remember where or when it was. I remember that I knew I loved him after only two weeks of knowing him. I was sixteen and he was seventeen. I remember singing the Sound of Music to myself when I thought of our new love: “I am sixteen going on seventeen, I know that I’m naive… You are seventeen going on eighteen…” That adorable song ended in Liesl and Rolf’s innocent first kiss. But, as Liesl learned, life doesn’t stay that innocent or uncomplicated.

I digress. So, the other night, when our favorite onscreen couple shared their passionate first kiss—producing all kinds of emotions in me—I asked Ron if he felt things too. Nope. He said guys don’t feel things like that. That couple’s kiss was their own and had no effect on his masculine heart. He said that remembering our first kiss could make him feel something, but not someone else’s. For some reason I started crying. Why did God give girls such stupid hearts? I was crying because those butterflies are pretty much all gone. Crying because I missed feeling the excitement and passion of young love. Crying because I remember with clarity a conversation that I had with my mom when I was just sixteen.

We were parked in the driveway at our Harlansburg Rd. house. Sitting in our big conversion van. I asked my mom if she still felt those feelings for my dad. She said she loved my dad like crazy but that the butterflies were gone. She said mine would go away too! I remember tears stinging my eyes as I resolutely assured her that the passion I had for Ron Forkey would never be dimmed. We had REAL love. Unstoppable love. Undying Love. I would always feel this way! She said, “No, you won’t. But don’t worry. The things you get in exchange for the butterflies are better. Long lasting faithfulness, unconditional love, deep and abiding friendship.”

And she was right. When I sat crying on the couch in the middle of our favorite show for absolutely no sane reason, that best friend of mine paused the T.V. and rushed over to hug me. He listened to my ridiculous blubbering about butterflies or the lack thereof and, instead of being offended or insecure about my lack of “feelings”, he kissed me. He held me. He listened to me tell the story of the conversation with my mom—for probably the tenth time in our life. Later that night he prayed over us. Prayed that God would help him to take care of me better. Prayed that he would remember to be romantic and take care of our precious relationship. Guess what. Seventeen year old Ron Forkey didn’t do things like that. In fact, seventeen year old Ron Forkey didn’t even know Jesus when we met.

So, though there are more moths in my heart than Monarchs these days, I still remember what it was like to be sixteen. I remember the temptations. I remember the passion. I remember the fierce longing to do something great and remarkable with my life. That particular longing still hangs on today. Now, like my mom, I’m in a position to encourage young hearts. I know what happens on the other side of choices, both good and bad. I know the consequences of unchecked passion. I know the rewards of obedience when it’s hard. I want to encourage others with what I’ve learned.

So, I started Ivy’s story with INFECtIOUS and I plan to continue it. Some of you have already read it for me. Thank you so much! I’m in the process of trying to get it published and I’d appreciate your prayers for this ministry. I have an agent who is interested and she’ll be getting back to me with the next two weeks. That’s stressful! I know it’s not my only shot, but it feels like it. Pray with me that she will decide to move forward with my story. One of the things the agent strongly recommends writers have is a blog. So this is the start of mine. I’d appreciate your feedback about what it should be about. I feel strongly about a life lived on the edge for Christ. I feel strongly about a wife’s heart and responsibility in marriage. I feel strongly about raising my girls to know and serve The Lord. What kinds of things would you like me to write about?

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