The Silver Cord

Jane Eyre.

Sweet, beautiful, amazing, dark, wonderful Jane Eyre.

This is my favorite novel. Of all time. Bar none. It was written over 150 years ago, and it is so beautiful to me in heart, in passion, and in scope that I cannot form words to convey it.

When I read it, my heart feels like it will pound it's way out of my chest to escape the chains around it.

Rochester loves her. He loves Jane with every fiber of his being. He knows she is too young for him. He's in his 40's, and she is barely 19. He knows she is kind, gentle, and absolutely trusting of him to protect her, and hold her fast. He looks deep into her loving, sweet, endearing eyes and it takes every bit of power and strength he has as a man not to circle her waist with one arm and pull her close to him and press her lips to his.

And it happens again and again in the book...almost. You can almost envision the moment. She is about a head shorter than him, and he reaches out a hand to her, and she take his hand like a lady should, allowing him to be a gentleman....but instead of looking away, she gazes slightly upward, deep into his eyes, and she ensnares him with one flash of hers.

She literally owns him with one demure, adorable bat of her eyelashes.

When they first meet, he asks her to come and sit in a chair next to him, but later on, she begins sitting at his feet, because she wants to. She kneels by him, not in worship, but in love. She looks upward to him with deep, powerful eyes that say "I'm kneeling at your feet, Sir. What would you have me do now?" but in his mind, when he sees her kneeling there with those searching eyes gazing up at him, he crumbles under their weight, and he worships her instead.

The relationship they share is so different from what society would call normal. So forbidden, and yet so powerful. You can tell from the moment they meet at the dinner party on the staircase that she wants to collapse in his arms and let him take her to places both mentally and physically that she has only dreamed of. Maybe thinking of him as she clutched her nightgown around her at night. The teddy bear she might have held against her breast as a child was preparing the way for his head to be lain against that same place, except this time, her heartbeat would be hammering with the same need he has for her, and the childhood desires inside her would now be grown up in one passionate moment.

He looks into her eyes every day, knowing that she is forbidden to him. She's half his age. She's his governess. His au pair. His subordinate. To even lay one finger on her is completely out of the question, and yet, when she stands in front of him, with her face cast downward out of personal insecurity, he speaks to her like a father...a teacher...a lover, and says "Jane, look at me." and when her eyes meet his, she trembles, not out of fear, but because she knows he loves her. He tells her how beautiful she is, and how wonderful her heart is, and in doing so, she loves him even more.

He wants her, with everything he is. When she stands near him, his heartbeat quickens, and he almost cannot bear her proximity. His passion is so real, and with one quick move, he could sweep her up from her place at his feet, carry her to his chamber, lie her on his bed, and love her in every way imaginable, and she would welcome it.

...and he would. Oh, God he would.

But she is off-limits to him.

She knows it.

And a part of her loves it.

She gazes upward at him, as if to say "I would give you my entire being for your own. If only you would just take it, Sir."

But she is off-limits to him.

...and her eyes tease him again, and again, and again.

Oh, how I love this book.

Love.


(...if you read this, tell me.)

Zece (Ten)

Today a very interesting thing happened in the middle of my morning commute. God dropped a bomb on me. I wasn't ready to be hit with this kind of reality, but it happened nonetheless. I was confronted by NUMBER TEN.

What is this NUMBER TEN? It's the commandment that we often think that God must have seen as the least important. After all, it was the last one. Maybe it was an afterthought. Maybe he got to nine commandments and thought "Hm, that pretty well covers it. Murder, theft, infidelity, idolatry, slander, got all those squared away. But still, who's gonna remember nine commandments? I need to make it an even number. There should be ten. Hmm. Envy. That's a good one. Ahem. THOU SHALT NOT..."

In all seriousness though, this is the one I struggle with more than any. I admit, I am guilty of breaking the whole law. Even if you forget that part about "Whoever breaks part of the law breaks all of it." I still am guilty. I have gone beyond that. I have broken every single commandment at some point in my life. Murder? Yep. I have mentally wished death upon people. Adultery? Done. I had roving eyes when my first marriage began to go sour. I have told lies about people, called my father a loser, partied until I got drunk on a Sunday, worshiped at the altar of internet addiction, stole a lollipop from a gas station when nobody was looking, said the G-D word, had a poster of a half-naked Claudia Schiffer on my bedroom wall when I was a teen, and oh yes...I have coveted.

The secret to a happy life is contentment with what you have. In the Parable of the Landowner and Workers, the man who owned the vineyard needed workers, and so he hired them from the marketplace. He found a few at the marlet standing around with their hands in their pockets, and said "Hey, come work for me. I will pay you $20." Later that day, he saw more people looking for work. He offered them the same deal. Toward the end of the day, he found even more workers. At the day's end, He paid the people who began work at daybreak, those who began work at late morning, and those who began work at afternoon all the same wage. The people who had worked since morning were furious about this, and wanted to be rewarded for their work with a higher wage. The landowner said  that he paid each of them what he promised. There was no "fair" to this. The person hired at daybreak was promised twenty bucks. So was the guy hired at 3pm. The both got what the landowner wanted them to have. It may seem unfair, but without the landowner, none of them would have had work that day. So it is with God. Without Him, none of us would have anything.

But I struggle with this. Daily. And in no greater area do I struggle with it than in the area of my gear for work. The other week, for example, I was shooting portraits, and had just finished and was packing up my gear. My camera is 10 years old, and my lens is 12 years old. They serve me well. But I heard an audible voice come from behind me and say "You shoot Canon!" I turned around and it was a lady who looked about 10 years my junior. She had her camera around her neck, and when I saw it, my jaw almost hit the floor. Most of you will not know what any of this means, but she was toting a Canon 5D Mark III,  and it had my DREAM lens attached...an 85mm 1.2L. She opened her bag and inside rested another gem, a 70-200mmm 2.8L IS. I made small talk, and after a bit, she said "My husband bought this stuff for me. I don't really know how to use it. I just play, and hope I get a good shot." I asked if she did a lot of shooting, and she said no, that usually it sits on a shelf. I wanted to scream at her...no lie. Instead, I muttered under my breath "If you want a camera to sit on a shelf, I'll trade you." As she walked away, however, I suddenly felt a gut-check of revolt in what I had just said. I had (in one thought) completely rejected the gift God had given me in my own camera, and was ready to toss it away. I closed my eyes, patted my camera bag, and thanked God for my daily wage. It's more than many people have. If we put this in the proper perspective, God gave her THAT camera, and God gave me MY camera. Yet, I was only focused on what SHE had.

Quite the nice little "graven image", isn't it? I could spend 15 minutes just dreaming about that camera in the photo above. And I have. Some people dream about houses, cars, women, money...it's all about the grass being greener.

You know, I am sadly aware that many men struggle with an addiction to pornography. The internet has made this an easy thing to access, and your cyber-footprints can be erased with a click of the mouse. Pornography is not my struggle however, and I would say "Thank the Lord." for that fact. In reality though, I am addicted to pornography. How? Well, I have a bevy of bookmarked websites devoted to camera gear, and most of it I will never be able to afford. The outfit the woman in the park had around her neck would cost at least $4000. While the young lady herself was pretty, (I remember that she was.) I had not the first desire to gaze upon her physical features. If I had, I would have been guilty of adultery in my heart. So why is gazing upon her camera any different? I may not have cheated on my wife, but I have told God "What you gave me is no longer pleasing. I want what SHE has."

I've done this in countless other areas too. I don't even need to talk about them all. However, it takes me back to a passage from Romans I have been clinging to for what seems like, oh months now.

^"I don’t understand what I do. I don’t do what I want to do. Instead, I do what I hate to do. I do what I don’t want to do. So I agree that the law is good. As it is, I am no longer the one who does these things. It is sin living in me that does them. I know there is nothing good in my desires. I am controlled by sin. I want to do what is good, but I can’t. I don’t do the good things I want to do. I keep on doing the evil things I don’t want to do.  I do what I don’t want to do. But I am not really the one who is doing it. It is sin living in me that does it. What a terrible failure I am! " ~ Romans 7: 15-20

If we go back to the parable of the landowner and workers, I am like one of the workers. Except, instead of complaining about the wage I have been given being the same as everyone else, I point to the vineyard across the road and say "That guy paid four times as much as you did! I saw it! You can take your money and stow it! I don't want it!"

Today, I want to reflect on what He HAS given me, not what He hasn't. To some, much has been given. To others, some has been given, and to many more, a smaller amount has been given. If we learn to see what we have been given as much, we will no longer care about the amount, only that we were trusted with it.

A thankful heart, is a HAPPY heart.

One Small Word

Of late, my fingers have become less coordinated when it comes to typing, and so my desire to blog has waned considerably. As much as I love writing papers for college, lately I have to write about 300 words and then take a break for a few minutes before coming back to it. Maybe it's arthritis, maybe it's just my getting older. Regardless it has made me want to choose my typed words more carefully.

Today I want to talk about an important word. It is a word that much of our world has forgotten. It is a word that Christ talked about, a word He showed in his life, and a word He showed in his death. It was written in the wounds on His hands and feet, and woven into a crown on His head. He bore this word on His shoulders from the moment He was born.

Empathy.

Empathy is defined as being able to understand and share the feelings of those around you. I want to take it a step further, however. I once heard someone say that they were an "empath", and that is why they don't like being in crowds of people. They explained that when they see someone hurting, they hurt with them. They are physically and emotionally unable to shut the suffering person out, and they must try to comfort them. They see the hurt, and they share the hurt. They have compassion on those who suffer, and until the suffering is attended to, they suffer also.

Jesus was like this. In Matthew 14:14, Jesus, after having heard about John the Baptist's execution, went out on a boat to have time alone. When he came back ashore, a crowd had followed Him, and his reaction was instant:

"Jesus saw the huge crowd as he stepped from the boat, and he had compassion on them and healed their sick." ~ Matthew 14:14

I understand this, deeply. It is both a blessing and a curse to have uncontrollable empathy. Many people don't want to be sympathized with, while others misinterpret empathy as you "getting too close" to them, or your trying to take advantage of them in a time of weakness. Still others will try to take advantage of people who have empathy, and use them until they have nothing left to give. Empathy is not something that is not felt by the one who gives it. Empathy hurts when you give it. Jesus experienced this in Luke 8:46 when a woman in a crowd who needed healing knew that Jesus could give it, and so she touched the hem of his robe as he walked by:

"Jesus said, "Someone deliberately touched me, for I felt healing power go out from me." ~ Luke 8:46 

This is important to understand, because if Jesus did not experience a feeling of loss when someone else was healed by Him, then His love was useless. To empathize with someone, you lower yourself to their level of suffering, and you do not rise up again until the healing has begun. It means counting another person's hurt and suffering as greater than your own comfort, and immediately bearing the burden of that person's hurt.

As adults, we may find this difficult to do. We don't like to suffer. We don't like to talk to people who might need something from us. When we see someone hurting, we often look for someone else to fix it, or we pretend we didn't notice, and walk away.

The other day I was at an Upward soccer game at our church, and I was taking photos of the players like I do every year. It had been a hard week for me at work, and my heart was suffering. I needed empathy, but like most adults, I am afraid to seek it. I asked God to show me empathy, and like He always seems to do, he answered in a way I did not expect. On the sidelines of one of the games, a little girl had gotten hurt and was now feeling the physical and emotional loss of that. Her face was cast down, and she had tears welling up in her eyes. I have to admit, I immediately knew how she felt. Then I saw another thing happen. Another little girl came over and sat by her, and instead of trying to fix the problem with laughter and humor, her face began to mirror the pain of her friend. She spoke to her with gentleness and love, and until the little girl smiled again, she did not relent, or smile herself.

This was bearing her friend's hurt. She wasn't trying to shuck it off by making light of it, or pretending it didn't matter. She was embracing her friend's pain. She was clothed in empathy. Later on, (much later) I asked the little girl (her name is Ivy) "When your friend hurts, you feel her hurt, don't you? You don't just want to make her feel better, you literally feel the sad in her, and you can't turn it off until you make it better, can you?" Ivy shook her head. She understood. She got it. She embodied empathy in it's purest form.

What would our world be like if we began emulating Ivy? If the people we saw who were hurting didn't just become a thing to be pitied (or ignored), but someone to be borne up on our own shoulders? What if your friend who is suffering is the cross you must bear today?

Today is all about that very empathy.

Happy Easter. <3 

Between the Covers

This actually began as a Facebook post, where I was challenged (not to dump ice water on myself) but to name 10 books that have stayed with me over the years. Books that have affected my life or the way I look at things in such a way that having read them has changed me forever. These were hard to narrow down, but if I could only name 10, these are my choices...along with a brief reason by each one.

Before I begin, of course, I want to mention the bible. The most ignorant people I know are those who claim to follow it, but have never read it...and those who claim it to be nonsense, but have never read it.

On to this list!

1. The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis - This allegory of a man's visit to Heaven, along with other people who have not realized they were living in Hell left an indelible mark on me. Especially the part where Lewis shows that all the gifts we have been given by God are unique, and we will retain them even when all things become perfect.

2. The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis - Back to Lewis one more time. When I was a child, I read Narnia for the wonderment of it's heroic fantasy. When I read them again with fresh eyes as an adult, the scene where Puddleglum unashamedly declares his loyalty to Aslan (even in the face of having Aslan perhaps not rescue him) painted the idea of unconditional love and sacrifice on my heart in a way I have never had matched in any other book.

3. Watership Down by Richard Adams - Long before I raised rabbits, I found this book at the bottom of a pile my parents had purchased at a yard sale. In less than five pages, I was hooked. The tale of a warren of vagabond rabbits that escape human annihilation, sojourns forward in a perilous pilgrimage to find new life. It reveals not only the human side of animals, but the animal side of humans.

4. Les Miserables by Victor Hugo - After seeing the broadway version with my French class in high school (and holding onto my seat, practically shaking as Fantine sang "I Dreamed a Dream") I went to Oxford Book Store in Atlanta and bought the Signet Classic version shown in the photo above. This translation remains my favorite, and Hugo's magnum opus does Paris the justice only a lover and childhood denizen of it's streets could describe.

5. Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson - Recommended to my by a friend, I devoured this book in three hours. It brought back memories of how many people mistreated this girl I went to high school with, and how we might have unintentionally tormented a soul whose internal battles were beyond what we could comprehend. Be kind, for everyone you know is fighting a hard battle.

6. Homecoming by Cynthia Voigt - My "daughter from Savannah" shared this with me as being her favorite book. I won't even try to explain how Dicey wiggled her way into my heart, but there is one page in the book...one scene...where Dicey is sailing across the water on a boat after having traveled hundreds of miles on foot. Her description made me miss living on the coast so terribly, that I put the book down for a moment...and smelled the ocean---again.

7. The Five People You Meet In Heaven by Mitch Albom - A lot of people see this as "feel-good pablum". I don't give a rats butt. If you can make it through the last scenes and not be affected, go find yourself a puppy to kick. We all need redemption, and even those with no faith can relate to this story.

8. Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson - As a boy who grew up with a girl as his best friend, this book resonated with me the moment I picked it up. (In the Newnan Library when I was 9 years old.) It was storming the day I read it, and unlike many today (who have seen that atrocity of a Disney adaptation) I had no idea what was going to happen. When "it" did, I couldn't breathe for a few moments. Trauma at the hands of a paperback.

9. Le Petit Prince (The Little Prince) by Antoine Exupery - I read this book in French before I read it in English. While some things just don't translate perfectly, the story itself is timeless, and still as relevant an allegory of the world today as it was in 1943 when it was written. Get it. Read it. It will take you all of an hour, but the people in it will make you say "Wait! I know that guy!"

10. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak - I first read this book while flying over the Atlantic ocean on my way to Germany, where a connecting flight would carry me to my first overseas mission trip to Romania. In high school, history bored me so much that I had to repeat one of the classes. Now, it is my favorite subject. I won't attempt to describe this book. My words seem to taint it. All I will say is that I am haunted by it. Stepping off the plane in Munich after reading it was so surreal...and so beautiful. (The movie that has been made of it is ALMOST as good. But please, read the book first. Please.)

Now that I go back and look at my choices, I want to add more. But I won't. Ten is enough.

Now, go read.

Shoo.

Lessons in Stupidity, Part II

My high school librarian Dale Lyles read my first installment of "Stupidity" and asked if this would be an ongoing series. I never intended it to be, but I felt the need to tell this story as well. I would guess that less than 10 people know about this one, and up until recently, I would have been content to let it die that way. Lately though, I have found that there is merit in sharing your mistakes with others. Even the ones that make you nauseated to recall. Especially when those mistakes changed your life for the better.

It was 1996, and I was 22. (By the way, I was still married to Bryanna and Curt's mother at this time, and would not meet Emily for another three years.) Bryanna was already walking, and Curt was able to sit in the child seat in a shopping cart. My wife and I were proud parents, defying the prophetic words of our mothers and fathers who said "You'll be broke before you know it."

They were wrong, you see. We weren't broke. We had three dollars.

We were also on government assistance in three different areas, and my job was cutting my hours. This was not a proud time for us. That morning my wife had said "We're out of diapers." I knew I was not going to get paid for a couple more days, and I didn't want to ask anyone for help. I had too much pride. I'd already hocked everything I had, and the only thing left was our wedding rings. I didn't want to risk losing our rings to a pawn shop, so I made a decision. A decision that would change my life.

We'd steal the diapers from the store.

After making that decision, I remembered that my last venture with theft didn't go so well. I'd tried to steal a pair of sunglasses from a beach gift shop when I was 17. I got busted. My dad had to bail me out of jail. Now here I was again, staring down the barrel of the same gun. I rationalized that this was different. I was providing for my children. After all, it was only a pack of diapers.

We got to Kmart on Macon Road, kids in tow, our diaper bag in the shopping cart, and mentally prepared to do this. We nonchalantly wandered around the store, pretending to shop, then made our way back to the baby section. I took the cart, and my wife took Bryanna and Curt with her. I reached up for a jumbo pack of diapers, quickly ripped it open and emptied the diapers into our diaper bag. I wadded up the wrapper and pocketed it. I made my way back over to my wife, and told her the deed was done.

After some discussion, we decided that as long as we were risking this, why not get some baby formula too? We were almost out. My wife "kept lookout", and I did my best to avoid the areas with security cameras as I loaded the diaper bag full. By the time we were ready to exit the store, we were now the temporary owners of stolen diapers, several cans of powdered Enfamil AR, and a pack of baby wipes. My wife took the kids to the car by way of the main exit, and I made my way to the exit by the garden center...thinking it would be less "monitored".

As I was exiting the garden center, I noticed something odd.  I felt an almost "sixth sense", if you will, saying "This isn't right. Something is strange. Too quiet." I was right. The minute I passed the exit doors, a very large man stepped in front of me and said "Sir, could you step back in the store please?"

I was escorted to the back of the store by two men who told me not to try anything, like running away. When we arrived, I watched as they inventoried my items. One was a store employee with a pricing gun. After the total was figured up, the store security guy laughed. I will remember his words forever.

"Well, my friend. Today is your unlucky day. You see, anything less than $100 is a misdemeanor. Your total here is $101.01. That buys you a nice little felony. You're going to jail for at least two years."

I felt like I was going to throw up.

My wife appeared at the door, and she was in hysterics. My children were with her, crying too. I knew what I had to do. There was no way I was going to implicate her in any of this. This was my decision. I told the security guy my wife had nothing to do with this. He said "Wouldn't matter if she did. You were the one who took the items out of the store. It's all on you."

I was taken to jail, and for the second time in my life, I had to call my father for help. My bail had been set at $5000. My dad let me babble on for a minute, then said words I won't repeat here. He posted my bail, and I walked out of the jail with a court date two weeks away.

I was involved in a church at the time, and ultimately that is what saved my rum-pa-pum-pum. I went to my pastor and asked if he would be willing to testify for me in court. Not to defend my actions, but to perhaps show them I was worth more than a file number on a court docket. My pastor wrote a letter to the judge, saying that were I to go to jail, the children I was working with at the church would miss me deeply.

It worked. I was not convicted of a felony. I got a "get out of jail free" card instead.

In lieu of two years in jail, I was given community service. For one year, twice a week I worked at the Salvation Army. Instead of picking up litter along the roadside, I helped people who were so poor they didn't even have food. Instead of my own "problems" I saw real need every day. It changed the way I looked at my circumstances. On my last day of community service, I hugged the lady who supervised me...thanked her for the new perspective I'd been given.

When I met with my parole officer the final time, I shook his hand. He said with a slight smirk, "Get the hell out of here and don't come back."

Yes, sir.

Yesterday I spoke with that same pastor who wrote the letter for me. I thanked him again, and told him I owed him more than the freedom I had been granted 17 years ago. I have custody of both my children, and I would never have had that opportunity if I'd gone to jail. He said "Oh, you don't owe me anything!"

But I do. More than he can ever comprehend. If one day you happen to meet Rev. Marvin Minton, shake his hand. He's a very good man.

More-so than that, don't ever think your circumstances are so dire that you have to resort to stealing. There is always someone willing to help. Swallowing your pride is much better than sitting in a jail cell.

For those who had no idea about this happening to me, well...there ya go. I decided when I started this blog to be totally transparent about the things I wrote about. Maybe it will have a positive effect on someone down the road. As for me, I haven't so much as considered stealing a pack of gum since. Being a thief means you can't be trusted, and it changes the relationship you have with everyone around you.

I am currently in the early stages of preparing to teach a class of homeschoolers about the Jewish Holocaust. I had no idea when I took on this task how it would effect me. This is real loss. What I had that morning when we ran out of diapers? That was a daisy-path.

I truly, TRULY thank God for the blessings in my life.

My Helper

A couple of years ago, I was doing the manly duty of taking an old appliance to the recycle center. Our washing machine had given out, and we had replaced it. Now the old one was sitting on our back deck collecting pollen and dirt. It was time for it to go.

I was the only one at home at the time, and I knew I couldn't lift it alone (a dryer is one thing, a washer is another!) but that didn't stop me from trying to load it. I'm THE MAN after all.

I backed our car up to the porch, tilted the washer backward, and only then discovered I had not moved the car close enough. The solution was easy. Get back in the car and try again. Did I do that? Nope. I decided to let the washer slide to the ground, and to pick one side up and slide it into the back. This was all well and good until I got to the "sliding" part.

Picture this now. I have the top of the washer (the part with the controls...the lighter end) sitting on the tailgate. I am on the other end of the washer, lifting it up so it is level, and attempting to push it into the car. I'm having trouble gripping the slippery sides of the washer, but instead of putting it down and waiting for help, I opt for a new grip instead. I put my (un-gloved) fingers under the little metal frame that the feet sit on, and with my new grip, I can now have better control over this. At least, that is what I think anyway, until gravity takes over, and the "leveling" system of the washer kicks in. The little frame I was holding pushed itself up inside the frame of the washer, trapping my fingers. The more I try to pull them out, the tighter the springs held. I thought "Okay, not good. I'll just sit it down and wait for help."

Then it happens. As I lower it to the ground, the weight of the washer shifts downward, causing the springs to tighten further, locking my fingers firmly in place between their "jaws". These are not smooth edges I am dealing with now, they are unfinished steel braces. I feel the edges dig into my fingers, and as the weight increases, I realize that no matter what I do, (lift it or lower it) the result will be the same. They will only get tighter. I need someone to come help me, but nobody is home. The neighbors are gone, and my phone is in my pocket. I feel my fingers going numb, see blood trickle down my hands, know that bone has been reached at this point, and I settle in on one idea:

"Ok. I'm going to lose a couple of fingers. Maybe if I retrieve them, ice them, and can drive myself to the hospital, I can save them." It's amazing how calm you can be when you have nobody to help you panic. I stopped at that point to pray, and asked God for wisdom. At that moment, a miracle happened. One worn spring inside the leveling mechanism broke, allowing me to free my fingers. I was very, VERY lucky that day. I also learned an important lesson: Never do dangerous work alone. 

I need to fast forward here.

Earlier today, I woke up to find my wife lying next to me, crying. I won't go into all she was upset over, but one thing she said to me at the end of her sadness made the feelings she was having hit me like a ton of bricks. She said "And I'm going to be forty!"

Married men, I want to address you here. Your wife may never say anything about it, and she may seem like the type of person who doesn't stress over getting older, getting wrinkles, gray hair, or losing her younger figure. These thoughts do occur to her though. This feeling may be compounded if she sees you appear to steal a glance at a younger woman in the store, a shapely girl at the gym, or finds you looking at a web page with a woman on it. She's not flying off the deep end, she just needs to know how much you love her, and that she is the center of your world.

Everything is ok now. I reassured her that she is the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and I even made her say it to herself. She smiled and held me, and I held her back. I will never find another woman like her, and I wouldn't dare try.

Today, as I was thinking back on she and I talking about things, I remembered something important. Something I had taught to the teens in our homeschool group from "Song of Solomon". It described the way a woman NEEDS to feel in a relationship between her and a man. It doesn't matter if she is 16 and he is her first boyfriend, if she is 23 and her fiance, or 39 and they have been married for 14 years. She needs to not only feel this way, but KNOW in her heart it is true. See the photo below:

You see that second part? That is every bit as important as the first. It doesn't matter if you as a husband have been faithful from the beginning. It doesn't matter if you have never looked at another woman. It doesn't matter if you have "kept only unto her" like it said in your wedding vows. Yes, all of those things are important, and crucial to a relationship. However without the second part, they are all completely empty. 


So what does it mean that "His desire is for her."? Of course, when you were younger and had first met, desire was not a problem. You wanted her more than anything, and day and night you focused on making her yours...winning her heart! Women love to be pursued, and after marriage, the pursuit is over! She's yours, every day! Why bother continuing to pursue her? 

I will tell you why; because she needs it. She deserves it. If you are not willing to fight for her love on  daily basis, she will begin to wonder if you want it as much as you did when she said the vows that bonded her to you forever. Is she worth it?

You know the answer to that.

Let's talk now about something huge for her. Something that turns her on like nothing in the world. Something that makes her yearn for you as the man, and a seed of the most pure feminine fragments that God wove into your "Eve". 



One word: Trust.

Sounds simple, doesn't it? Of course she can trust you. Haven't you told her that over and over?

I had to examine my life recently, and several things occurred to me. It had to do with a question that was in my devotional book from Ravi Zacharias. He asked if Jesus was allowed into certain areas of your life ONLY, or if you gave Him full access. If you cannot give Jesus full access, you are not committed to Him, and worse, you are CHEATING on Him.

I began to apply the examples that were given in the devotional about Jesus to my wife. This is what I found to be true:

If you are unwilling to show or uncomfortable with your wife knowing where you have surfed on the internet, TRUST is at stake.

If you would be antsy or uneasy about your wife having full access to your cell phone's contact list, message history, browser history, application data, or photo albums, TRUST is at stake.

If you would prefer your wife not go with you to places you might run into single women, TRUST is at stake.

If you have hidden books, files, emails, records, letters, or anything that you feel might make your wife jealous, get rid of them. TRUST is at stake.

If there is any activity, any place you go, any part of your heart that you feel you must keep hidden from your wife, get rid of it. TRUST is at stake. 

Every day, open your heart to her FULLY. Tell her you love her, and MEAN IT. If you haven't kissed her like you were lovers in a long time, DO IT. Remember that outside of your own salvation in Christ, your wife is your greatest gift on earth.

Treasure her.

Romance her.

Hold her.

Belong to her.

If you do these things, a lot of the complaints husbands have about "She isn't the wife I married." would vanish.

Is Emily the wife I married?

Nope.

She is BETTER.

And like the author of "Song of Solomon" said of a true husband: "If anyone offered the world in exchange for the love of a man's wife, he would be furious, and utterly denied."

My wife. My heart. 

My Helper. 

 

Leadership

Went back over some of the notes I took at Emmaus walk last year. I'm finding that in the past year, I have experienced a dramatic shift in the way I view the world, and in many of the values I held just 18 months ago. I'm noticing that these tenets I wrote down take on a new meaning now, and a broader one as well. The speaker who gave this list said it is important to understand that some of these are biblical qualities, and as such may not apply to all good leaders. A man does not have to be a Christian to be a good leader, but if he claims to be a Christian, those biblical tenets should be present and evident in their leadership. Below is a verbatim transcript of my notes from that session on day 2 of my walk.

Ten qualities/characteristics of a leader, biblical qualities notated:

1. A good leader holds themselves accountable for their actions first, and their followers for theirs second. Accountability means acknowledging one's previous failures, admitting they were wrong, and moving forward in humility.

2. A good leader does not look down on those who do not walk, talk, worship, or look like they do. A good leader respects individual beliefs, genders, races, and lives.

3. (bib.) A good leader seeks to honor Christ with their leadership, gives all glory to God, and accepts none for themselves. They realize they could not have attained their position without God, and in so doing puts themselves in the low-light, and God in the forefront.

4. (bib.) A good leader does not use the Word of God to advance themselves, or to "climb the corporate ladder". They do not claim to know The Word when they do not honor it with their lives.

5. A good leader sees the road before them, acknowledges the task they are led to achieve, and does not cast blame on those around them, or those who came before them. They do not deflect their own culpability by way of saying "The person in charge before me is at fault for where we are." or "Everybody (cheats/lies/steals/etc.) to an extent." A good leader remembers they are the one answerable now, not anyone before them.

6. A good leader builds those around them up, and prepares them to take leadership in their own areas. They see the individual gifts each person has, and celebrates them by way of using those talents for the betterment of not just the individual, but the whole.

7. A good leader puts people ahead of policies, and will carry a broken team member on their shoulders until they can walk again. A good leader knows that a horse with a broken leg might need a bullet, but a person with a broken spirit needs a hand of friendship.

8. A good leader does not squander the resources of the group they lead on things that do not benefit the group as a whole. He does not take his salary and have a dinner party where his followers serve the leaders, but hosts a dinner party for his followers where the leaders serve instead.

9. A good leader does not use disparaging terms to describe those they oppose in an attempt to antagonize or provoke. They see everyone as a person who is entitled to respect, and carries the flag of peace when others wave flags of war.

10. A good leader forgives those who have wronged them, and asks forgiveness from those they have wronged before accepting the position of leadership. They realize that their leadership is to be a servant to those who follow them, never the other way around.