Manifestation

     I haven't had much dialogue or even interest in my posts this week on Facebook.  Or have I?  The men wouldn't dare express approval for the chastisement they might receive from the women who wouldn't dare express their approval for the accountability they might receive from the men.
     What they don't know is that this newfound focus on intimacy with my husband isn't random.  It's a manifestation from what the Lord called me to several days ago.  I had so much happening, so many prayers for so many people.  And sometime over that weekend, the Lord called me to a fast.
      We had one, my first, at our church some months ago.  I still can't explain exactly what occurs, but I do know that it makes me steady.  I think the Lord honors our seriousness and vulnerability during that time of drought.  When the hunger comes on strong, you pray harder, not for yourself but for others.  I got affirmation for that at Wednesday night's service.
      I have broken it a few times for fellowship.  It looks awfully self righteous to sit back and watch while everyone else partakes of an especially joyous meal.  I don't know when it's going to end and I don't know when my next meal will be.  I do know though that looking forward to the next one makes it harder; it's actually easier to just not eat.
     It's really not about the food at all.  I've been careful whom I've told for fear that they may decide starvation is a way to solve their addiction to food.  That's not what fasting is about and is a sure way to fail in it.  There is an obvious benefit though, that the chains of the stronghold of overeating be broken.
     People are noticing that I'm losing weight but I won't weigh.  I can't do this for selfish gain. "Are ye so foolish?  having begun in the Spirit, are ye now made perfect by the flesh?"  This verse in Galatians is speaking of the law versus the Spirit.  We can't confuse the two.
     I believe that's why I've been losing in the arena of physicality.  I've begun over and over to get in shape only to get hurt, get disheartened.  My purposes were wrong.  My timing was wrong.  My ways were wrong.
     Over a year ago, I decided to get serious, to read the Bible through and through, to find out who God is.  I'm learning that sincere spirituality always leads to action, to physicality.  Done in reverse is always for vainglory, even if our intentions start off well..
     You see, my confession is that until I gave my body up to the Lord,  I was still possessing it as though it were mine to do with what I will.  And  I may've been following in body but surely not in heart 1 Cor 7:4, "The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband ...,"  Yes, I know there's more to that verse but we can't be waiting on the other to do the right thing.  When they beat us to the punchline, we ought to be ashamed.  If there is a contest in marriage, it ought to be who can be best to the other, with not expectation whatsoever of a return.  
     Our discernment of what is "best" is the controversy though.  For the most part, women naturally want sweetness and affection, in turn giving it.  As good as that is, for the most part men want passion and intensity.  I say again that there is no sacrifice in what comes naturally.  I think at least part of the mystery of Christ is that everything in its perfection is the inverse of what comes naturally.  That makes it an act of will.
    It is an outright act of choice to be physical with our husbands.  I doubt there has ever been a man, aside from dysfunction, who said, "I wish my wife were less sexually physical toward me." 
    This morning in church, there were two couples I took notice of.  Both were older than I.  And both wives have stewarded their bodies well.  One husband could barely keep his hands off his wife.  He had his hand around her waist continually and she gave no gesture to deny him.  They radiated "oneness."
    Now, was she his second wife maybe?  If so, maybe the first wife was frigid toward him.  Hard words to hear but they're true.  He's no less a sinner if so, but neither is the first wife.  We wonder why our husbands are clamoring for attention, when we give more to strangers than we do to them.  
    Case in point:  I rub lotion on Virgie's feet at night.  I also noticed that DJ's feet need some TLC.  Yet, when it entered my mind to do it for my husband, I resisted, procrastinated.  As though because he wasn't responding in ways I thought he should that I would withhold such a service.  
      You say, "But you don't know my situation!"  Try me.  I have personal anthem songs for heartbreak, destitution, and brokenness.  Funny how we think we're "broken" though, because if we really were, we'd be wide open to the power of the Spirit.  But we resist, wallow in our despair, embrace martyrdom, and play the victim.
     There are no victims in Christ, only victors.  It's all in the Manual we refuse to read.  
     Now, there are some men who would sexually abuse and torment their wives.  And there are men who are greedy and can't get "enough" of all women even with a willing wife.  These are surely exceptions and are to be dealt with accordingly.  But most American wives are not the exception, only lazy and selfish.  "Lazy?  I work and take care of everything!"  The end of the day proves where our priorities lie and if your husband isn't at the top; then, your day has not been a success.  Just as I have posted on my refrigerator:  "Our day has not been a success if we haven't:  studied our BIBLES, taken care of our BODIES, and kept up our BELONGINGS."   
     How do I know so much?  I have been the selfish wife.  I have tried to make myself the exception, which Satan always does when he's given free rein in our minds.  
     "Well, I have no feelings whatsoever for my husband.  You don't know what he's done to me."  
     Try me again.  Stop making yourself the exception, and trust Jesus.  See, that's the real issue here.  You, nor did I, trust Jesus enough to succumb, to simply obey.  At one point, I remember writing that I was against, "Just do it."  But the Holy Spirit caught wind of that notion and taught me Proverbs 16:3, "Commit thy works unto the LORD and thy thoughts shall be established."  Again, the reverse of reason.  
    So, I've dwelt on that for months and years.  The ones of you who've been with me that long know how bad it was.  You've seen my husband's public confessions.  But this wife has confessions, too.  She wasn't loving her husband with her whole heart, because if she had been, she never would have lost it and become indifferent.  
    I decided the antithesis of feeling "taken" was to give myself away, to pursue my husband.  It has taken months to institute, preparedly waiting for a wave to ride.  
    "But my husband says he's fine with my condition.  He loves me anyway."  Don't you know that in his humility, you are the chief of sinners?  He humbly accepts you, yet you choose not to give him the best gift, the best you.  I've been guilty of this for five long years.  We forget so readily how much better it is to give than to receive.  How right the Bible is about women becoming rulers over men.  God forbid a man be honest with his wife for fear that he might hurt her feelings and be ostracized as she licks her wounds.  A good man won't insist; he'll love anyway - to our shame.
     Shame.  Is there any left?  We pretend that we're okay with those pounds we've packed on.  But I hear every day a woman talking about her weight.  My biggest qualm with myself is my "roll."  I get, "but you've had all those kids," all the time.  I know better than that.  
     I'm not willing to settle.  I want into my husband's inner sanctum.  There are only a very few ways to get there and remain.  It's a sad day for us women when a 14 year old and 18 year old understand better than we do, have more discipline than we do.  
    "Oh, they don't have the burdens that we mothers have."  True, and they probably won't, because it's all about perspective.  Melody and Sloan both have enlisted in, "But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection:  lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway," 1 Cor. 9:27.  They both workout hard AND are honing their cooking skills, even baking, with the discipline of eating in moderation, "Let your moderation be known to all men."
    "I've got one on you now - 'exercise profitteth little.'"  No, no, you don't - we are a generation of slackers.  We don't "work" for anything.  I fooled myself for years that I would "work" my body into restoration.  Sadly, those jobs are few and far in between, especially in the winter.  Recently, I've been exercising with the same intent with which I get up and study my Bible every single morning.  There are some things that can't be left to chance.  If we "work" more off or "play" more off later that day, then our blessings are multiplied.
     Has it occurred to you that when we disregard the vessel we've been given, that we automatically lose the audience of unbelievers who do regard their bodies?  Why in the universe would they want to be under an authority which apparently does not offer us the power to maintain our own bodies?  It's like my not being able to hear a woman who has disproportionately forgone time with her husband and children to work or to minister to others.  God doesn't call a woman away from her family.  He doesn't contradict himself; families can minister together, just as we do with Virgie and DJ and Manuel's mother.  It's like people who complain of financial instability but won't tithe.  It's like people who pray for healing but take poor care of themselves.  I'm sick and tired of contradiction in my own life and that of the Church.
    Thus, the fasting.  You see, although it is about the food, it isn't.  I was in the middle of PMS, the most unlikely time to purposefully undergo such a trial.  But everywhere I turned there was shaky ground - sin and sickness and serious decisions to be made.  So many lives I come in contact with caught up in coldness, in denial. So many sick.  Virgie in the hospital.  Manuel's autism medicine stimulating him to the point of pulling out his permanent teeth.  DJ's (our 35 year old handicapped friend abandoned by his family) permission he's been waiting for to go to church for 6 months denied again.  Memaw having complications.  Aunt Beverly dying of cancer.  McKala's resting heart rate consistently high again.  Michael's shoulder surgery.  Colds and allergies across the board.  Macklynn's falling on another nail, third time in his 10 years. 
     But God knew there would be more.  So much more.  So, in the clarity, singlemindedness, and energy of the fast I was able to endure when I learned the details of the rape of the 11 year old girl I'd met at the park -  repeatedly done by her mother's boyfriend who is now under $350,000 bond.  So too, had my 16 year old cousin who has an IQ of 73, drugged and raped by a 19 year old. There are other things that I am not at liberty to share, but I've been asked to pray about. So, when I'm hungry, I surely have something to get my mind off myself.  There are things I wish I didn't know or see, but someone has to pray.  Church, we have to pray and people need for us to be heard and to be heard, we need to be in obedience!
      So wives, let's get our superspiritual heads out of the clouds on onto our husbands' pillows.  I don't know that it'll happen tonight because dying to ourselves is a process, but God knows your heart and will provide corresponding opportunity to your willingness.  You will get hurt.  You might even get turned down or criticized because he'll surely wonder what's gotten into you and your motives.  Grace is a hard thing for someone to understand who hasn't gotten much of it.  He might be used to being scolded like a boy.  I've had almost out of body experiences while I was correcting my husband, my better senses screaming at me to stop.  And know that if I hear you belittle your husband in public, I will think far less of you than of him.  
     Does your husband ever see somewhere in there the person he married?  She shouldn't be gone; she should be better regardless of what life's thrown at her if she claims the blood of Christ.  Do you reverance him?  Do you know that to revere means "to regard with awe, deference, and devotion."  When did you decide to check out, lock the door?  Do you not know Roman's 5:8 says, "But God commended his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."  Will you not extend what was extended to you to your husband?  I know he hasn't kept up his end of the bargain, the covenant, but have you?  Have you given your absolute all?  Because if you have, you know it isn't enough and that only a concentrated choice to know and be in the will of the Lord is the way.
    We women give each other a lot of encouragement, as do I often, when what we really need to do is set an example and to reprove.  One of my daughters jokingly said to me recently, "We're so much alike.  You need to do better, so that I can do better."  I sat stunned at the revelation of such a simple statement.  
    Show people that it's possible to do more than just survive, that there's a reason and a way to endure with longsuffering.  Don't be "in fear of amazement" when you're asked to do something drastic. Get ready to ride that wave when it comes your way.  His yoke is easy.  We make it hard.  
    

Getting Back My Happy Place

     Thursday before last, I decided to ride out to see Mike in Tennessee since the kids' effort to do so fell apart.  First, I had to stay with Virgie Friday afternoon.  In the meantime, Megan changed my oil, rotated my tires and had them balanced, vacuumed and washed the car, AND left me a chocolate toffee bar and a doubleshot coffee in the cup holder!
     Miranda drove to pick up Michael from the carpool for Spring Break, then stayed home to sell the rest of the piglets.  She and Megan cared for Macklynn and Madalynn while McKala and Melody tagged along with me.  We sang our old favorites clear to the other side of Nashville.
     We rolled into the frigid temperatures of the town of Monterey 5 hours later. Mike descended from the sleeper of one of the "units" to welcome us.
     Saturday morning, I had to get dressed before I had coffee and spent half an hour in the shower trailer in a daze.  I changed clothes a couple of times, dropped my stuff more times than that, and tried to brush my hair but it stood on end toward the metal walls.
     Breakfast is served at 6:30 and there sat a room full of people I've met and worked with before in a sea of orange volunteer shirts.  There was a lot of neck hugging then on to the first site.
     It was a big yard with large limbs downed positively everywhere from the ice storm they'd had.  I was surprised to see that there were still 3 inches of ice and snow.  We took up where the work was left the day before as Mike drove the Skid Steer to move the piles of wood.
     When we were done, someone said that the owner of the house, an 81 year old widow, had refused prayer, claiming to be a Buddhist.  Everyone was concerned that she might also refuse the customary Bible every home owner is presented with.  So, the person standing next me encouraged me to find something to say to her.  I was put on the spot and hesitant but saw an opening and took it.  It was now or never!
     I just started asking questions and told her who I was.  We found some things in common.  Then, I asked her if she was alone.  She said her daughter lives in Florida and her son in Louisiana, and that her husband of 43 years died three years ago.  He had a "do not resuscitate" order and she stood by as it was carried out.
    She told me they had a code:  he would squeeze her hand twice meaning "love you" and she would squeeze his three meaning "love you too."  Just before he died he squeezed her hand four times as to outdo her before he left.  She made me cry and we hugged red-eyed.
     We had to leave but the people who remained said she allowed the prayer and received the Bible.  I don't know if was the army of orange working for her or what I said that made an avenue for God's Word to find its way into her home, but I do know her heart was soft after we talked.
     God is good to reveal Himself even when we're clumsy. and we don't always have to naildrive the gospel straight into someone to give them God.  We just have to step forward and be willing to be a vessel.
     The other sites weren't as challenging.  The saws and Skid Steer did most of the work, but we got to meet some neat guys who all work/worked at the Savannah River Site, a nuclear reservation.  It was good to see intellectuals out there working hard and believing that God is the master engineer!
      There was a project squeezed into the schedule and when we arrived, there was a massive guy picking up huge logs.  He only needed the equipment to move the trunk for him.
      He turned out to be 6'6, 375 pounds and a big cutup who also happens to grow flowers and reverence God.  And when he got cleaned up, he came with gift cards and homemade jelly to the host church where we were staying.  I think he's one of those people we'll be keeping in touch with!
      After I pulled off a moderate dinner among the multitude of choices the volunteer cooks had presented, Mike got us a room at a nice local hotel.  I took an extra long shower and he took a nap, which helped him gear up for the other reason I came.
      God has dealt with me heavily not to disregard this "due benevolence" to my husband, regardless of my age, condition, mood, circumstances, or how we're feeling toward each other.  I've been led kicking and screaming sometimes, but He has profoundly reassured me that it is good (and necessary) in His sight, which means it is my conscious decision to make ready, willing, and able all of my heart,  body,  mind, and soul, not to worship my husband but to honor my God.
       For whatever reason, I woke up the next morning with a migraine.  I couldn't see to my left or to my right.  The time had changed and I was too confused to figure out when church started.  What I did know is that I was ever so glad to have the hotel room to recuperate in.
      I took several Benadryl and several Tylenol.  I drank several cups of coffee and several cups of Coke.  I used the nose spray I always keep with me and Mike went to get Ziploc bags to put ice on my neck.
     I was short with him.  I knew I was doing it and in my Benadryl delirium, didn't stop myself.  He was patient and helpful.  By the end of the day, I was shaky but able to go back to the church for dinner.  I only had clean the jeans that ordinarily I would wear out with Mike.  I was uncomfortable around his fellow workers and volunteers the way I was at the Big Daddy Weave concert.  Makes me rethink modesty.  I was glad to get back with him to the room after we stopped at Dairy Queen and I thankfully opted for the "mini Blizzard," strawberry, of course.
     Monday morning we hugged more necks and hit the road to meet Michael for his orthopedic recheck 4 hours away in Boone, NC.  Leaving in the daytime displayed from the highway what looked like tornado damage, tops of trees consistently gone.  Sloan was also on her Spring Break and met us there to take Melody and McKala for coffee and pedicures.  She is trying so hard to extend herself in any way that she can.
     What Michael and I found out per new exam and x-ray is that his collarbone was rubbing his shoulder bone and that the remedy was to shorten it.  I talked with Michael and his Daddy afterwards and starting calling the office the next day to advocate surgery this week.
     Tuesday, after rebooting and organizing, I took the boys to BJ's Warehouse to restock before our membership runs out.  It's just too far now to renew.  We had to be back for Macklynn's first baseball practice.  Madalynn started karate this week also but on the alternating days of baseball.  The older girls have volunteered to help, so that I won't be gone any more evenings than I have to be.
      Wednesday we run errands, Melody takes piano, Madalynn learns more self defense, we do some visiting, then we have a fellowship meal and service with the church.  This Wednesday Macklynn and Madalynn also had to be at the dentist's office.
      Thursday morning Michael had his turn at the dentist's, then at the DMV to finish up his license.   While we were there, the ortho office called and said they could do surgery Friday.  We only had to come for a consultation that afternoon.  Talk about patient care!  We had to get straight back for baseball though.  McKala kindly met me at the door to take him on.
      By late Friday afternoon, Michael had lost one half inch of his collarbone and was coming out from the extra anesthesia it took to put him under.  Sloan was waiting there with me and keeping the conversation lively so that I did not need to watch the clock.  She had also brought a big box of homemade things to leave with him after she went back to Lynchburg to work for the weekend.
      At 5 am this morning, Megan left for Georgia with all the younger ones on a preplanned trip to visit grandparents and ex-coworkers.   After kisses and prayers, I went back to sleep.
      Due to my monthly rant (yes, PMS has lit on my shoulder once more), the kids had done a good job of their own cleaning, including McKala and Miranda tearing down parts of the barn, and I knew today was the last shot to get my things done since Virgie's family needed me tonight and tomorrow.  Don't worry; Michael said that I snored a lot last night and that he preferred McKala as a nurse.
      My bags were still packed from last weekend.  150 pounds of salt had to be put in the well filter.  Toiletries from BJ's still needed a home.  Receipts, mail, and lists had to be sorted.  I needed a shower.  My bathroom needed to be cleaned.  I hadn't exercised in a week.  And I was down to one pair of underwear, which isn't saying much (since I only keep 7) except that my laundry has to be done regularly.
     As quiet as the house was with the Georgia bunch gone and Miranda at her new job, reality soon set in that it was up to me to do the indoor and outdoor chores of everyone else!  How quickly we begin to appreciate the little things and big things that other people help us with.
    I got a lot done and was well pleased with everything but what I allowed myself to eat today ...and how I reacted to a phone call before I left.  Not saying I was wrong to say what I said, but my feelings get ahead of my reasoning (actually, my "mistrust" ahead of my "trust" for my Lord's care and defense of me) and it's as though I'm a five year old Christian again.
     So, as I sit here unable to sleep because of too much caffeine, too much guilt, and too Steakum; Megan and the littles are sleeping at Memaw's, the Harper household is in good hands, Mike is still in Tennessee, and I'm sitting up in one of Virgie's spare beds, glad that my Bible keeps giving me hope for a new day and a new horizon which might hold some rhythm that gets me back to my happy place, home sweet home.  I brought my great big cup that McKala bought me (along with a sports bra) just before our trip to Tennessee that says, "Learn from yesterday, live for today, and hope for tomorrow."  I'm gonna put that gourmet caramel coffee she gave me in my cup  ...and do like it says.