No.

God said no.

I want to say that I'm glad that He answered and that I know that this must be best, but it doesn't feel that way.  I feel abandoned, forgotten.  I know William does even more so.

I know that God's ways are not our ways, that He has a purpose in saying no, that this path is what He has for us.  All things things are true, but they don't stop the hurt that my heart feels right now.

Maybe another door will open, maybe not.  Either way, I'm praying for the strength to walk in faith even when my heart feels broken.

An Open Letter to the One I Love

Dear William,

It's hard to believe that we've been married almost a year.  I've heard that the first year is the hardest and I hope that's the truth because this year has been rough.  We've been hit so many times with so many things that, to be honest, sometimes I'm surprised we're still together.  Don't get me wrong - I'm GLAD we're still together!  It's just been hard - for both of us.

Love is not what I thought it would be.  It's a lot more work and a lot less romance.  It's a lot of give and take.  It's a vulnerability that I don't think either of us was ready for.  To quote, dcTalk, "Love is a verb."

I do love you.  It's a choice that I make, even when I don't want to love you.  I'm not the wife I want to be and I'm certainly not the wife you want me to be.  We both came into this with expectations for ourselves and each other, none of which have been completely realistic.

I wish we were in a different place than this, but I have hope that God can change our circumstances, our marriage, our lives.  He brings beauty from ashes, raises the dead and parts the Red Sea.  He can make something beautiful out of our marriage.  God can change us. He can change our marriage.  He can make all things new.

May we start over anew as we move beyond the first year of our marriage.  May God do a mighty work in us and may His name alone be praised!

Lucy

"She lived alone and few could know when Lucy ceased to be, but she is in the grave, and oh, the difference to me."

Sometimes I feel like the Lucy in Wordsworth's poem, like no one sees me or knows me, but I'm glad to know that I have a God who always sees the violet, the faint star, the one who lives alone.

Even when I feel alone, I'm not.  I have a Savior who will never leave me.

Even when I'm faint of heart, I'm not powerless.  I have the Holy Spirit to strengthen me.

Even when I'm frail and easily crushed, I'm not without the God of the universe.

I am frail like the violet and faint like the star, but I am not alone.  I am weak, but He is strong.  Life is hard, but God is good.

Prayer

I need God to answer in a big way.  I need God to strengthen my husband's faith, to give me wisdom to walk through these trials and to be glorified in all the things that seem to be going wrong.

We said in sickness and in health - he's sick.  

We said for richer or for poorer - he has no insurance and he's trying to get a full time job, but it doesn't seem to be working out.

We said for better or for worse - all I can say is that the two above combined lead to worse.  

I know God doesn't work on my schedule...that I can't expect Him to work like a Santa in the sky, but I also know that He is able to change all of these things or change me through these things.

If anyone out there sees this, please just pray for Lucy and William.  Pray that we will see God glorified in these circumstances.  God knows who we are even if you don't.  

Confession

I'm struggling to forgive my last pastor.  The specific examples as to why I feel this way have no place on something so public as a blog, but it is safe to say that, in my understanding of Scripture, he has failed to shepherd the flock in his care and he has instead been harsh, demanding and has promoted his own political gain rather than the Word of God.

As I watch the brutal aftermath in my life, in my husband's life and in the lives of our friends from that church, I can't help but remember James 3:1 and the admonition to be careful because those who teach will be held to a higher standard.

It isn't my place to judge this pastor; God will take care of that in His time.  Yet, I find myself deep in a battle in my soul when it comes to forgiving this man.  The hurts he's left run deep.  This mess has affected many lives, caused several to grow bitter towards the church in general and has been a difficult road for my husband and I as newlyweds (we lost the community that supported us through our courtship).

Pastors, be careful, be on your guard and keep James 3:1 on your mind as you lead your church.  You can be a good shepherd, following the Good Shepherd, or you can be destructive and damaging.  I don't believe that there is an option in the middle.

You can stand for the Truth without crushing people, but I don't believe you can crush people while also standing for the Truth.

Hide

When I was a little girl, I had a little corner in my room, between my bed and the wall, where I would go when I was upset.  There, I couldn't be seen unless someone took the time to come all the way into my room.

We moved when I was twelve and I'm pretty sure I had abandoned the corner by that time, but lately I find myself longing for it.  I just want a little space that's all my own, where I can go, curl up with my blanket and hide.

Life just keeps coming from every direction.  Nothing horrible, but when you add it all up, it can be a lot.  I know that it's not outside of the hand of God, that He's here with me and that He is using the things in my life to make me more like Him.  But, knowing all of that doesn't mean that I still don't want a little corner to retreat to from time to time.

Alice

She died alone in the summer of 1973.  No one knew for several days.  Her body couldn't even be donated to science (as she had instructed) because of the summer heat and the length of time it took to discover that she'd passed away.  The few things in her small one bedroom apartment were dispersed and her money divided among the charities and ministries she held dear.

I used to fear ending up like Alice, dying alone, unmarried and childless.  I pitied what I perceived to be the end of her story.  I hoped that I wouldn't end up like her.

Then, in the summer of 2010, one of her letters, penned in 1924, made its way to me.  Since then, she's become almost a dear friend, a mentor, a co-laborer for the Gospel.  I thank God for Alice, for her faithfulness to the Word of God and her relentless passion for the Gospel.  I've been blessed by her words and challenged by them more times than I can say.

Her story isn't over, though her earthly life is.  Her story isn't over because God is still answering her prayers for missions and for ministries, because God is still using her words and because her story is a thread in God's tapestry.

Alice didn't die alone.  She died in the arms of her true love, Jesus.  On the day when His tapestry is complete, I'll rejoice with her as we celebrate His works.