“When you stop expecting people to be perfect, you can like them for who they are.”
― Donald Miller
As I walked with my friend, the heaviness in her spirit was written on her lovely face, dampening her normal radiance. She was feeling guilty and frustrated. One of her dearest friends had called to lambaste her, letting her know in no uncertain terms that she had failed miserably as a friend. Apparently there was some sort of friend code that had been broken, a specific sort of support that had been withheld. My friend had had no idea she was so neglectful. She hadn’t even known the friendship code existed.
It was an ordinary day as I pulled out onto the highway. The late morning traffic was light and my mind wandered as I drove the familiar route, alone for the moment, a rare pleasure in my busy days.
As I approached the quiet downtown area, I slowed. Up ahead, at a cross street, I caught sight of a familiar navy blue truck. My heart did a crazy little flippy thing, an automatic response that happened almost before it registered that it was my husband, now crossing the highway on his way home.
Sitting back on the couch, I tucked my feet under me to get more comfortable. I looked around the room at the group of young ladies sprawled about, some on the floor leaning against the brick hearth, others settled into plush furniture like me, eager to hear what would come next. We came from various backgrounds and most had only been married a short while. Being the oldest student, I’d been married the longest, eight years, but the differences didn’t matter much in this place.
Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of my daughter’s wedding day. I’ve long wanted to write about one central part of our preparations, but the words simply haven’t coalesced. Spiritually speaking, this past year has been hard. I have encountered steep, seemingly impassable terrain on my journey to the high places. Yet my Shepherd has been faithful to lead me through it, and as I look back on my daughter’s lovely, lovely day, I now see the gem, the standing stone, my Father left for me.
I’ve never been much for the forced romance of anniversaries and holidays. It’s not that I’m a romance Scrooge or anything, rather, it’s the expectations of grandeur on specific days that I resist. Call me crazy, but I expect a bit more wooing in the day to day.
We all yearn for someone to find us utterly irresistible, don’t we? As children, many of us dreamed of finding that one person who would make us feel wanted, accepted, and safe. We all desire to be swept away by our beloved, yes?
Then we find that one…the soul mate, the knight in shining armor and it’s so intoxicating! But then what?
Read the rest over at The Family Road Map!
Photo by bngdesigns, courtesy of pixabay.
If success tastes sweet, and defeat is bitter, then what would you call an experience that, while technically a fail, brings great satisfaction and joy to your life? Is it sweet or bitter? Or would it better be described with other words of gustatory perception such as salty or sour? Hmmm. Not quite right, any of them.
I recall as a child, learning about the different perceptions of taste. The teacher demonstrated with small dixie cups, each filled with a mystery liquid. She used cotton swabs to dab a drop or two of each flavor onto different areas of our tongues and we contrasted sweet with salty, sour with bitter. Later on, I learned, a new category was added. Umami. U-u-what??
Merry Christmas, my friends!
May we remember that Christmas is a celebration, not a duty. Let us lay aside, as much as possible, the busy work and focus on the best bits.
Give undivided attention to your spouse and to your children.
Revel in the beautiful message of grace that is ours to enjoy every day of the year.
Celebrate and reflect the lavish love of our Father by showing your kids just how crazy you are about them, by simply hanging out with them. Enjoy your people!
Grace and peace to you–