a final post.

Well friends, this is it. The final post.
*pause for dramatic effect*
I don't imagine anyone's world will be dramtically affected, or affected at all really, but I felt it important to at least announce it rather than just disappear all together.

Actually, I will not be disappearing at all, just changing venues.
As some may know, I have another space on this unending web of networking intelligence. You can find it over at 4years4months as I document our life as crazy home educators, home renovators and everything in between. You can be sure there will be a post from time to time about some mildly profoud truth that hits me between the eyes, but it will be a mixture of everything from theology to pencil sharpeners (and other mundane school information I may have the fancy to share).

Thank you for caring. Thank you for reading. Thank you for praying for me.
Thank you for the notes of encouragement.
May His goodness, like a fetter, continue to bind your wandering heart to Him.

Blessed Christmas to you and yours,
Tiffany

fear.

The only sound was the frozen earth beneath my feet and the sound of my breath leaving my body. The air was cold against my face and felt like life in my nostrils. My lungs inhaling deeply as though to try to breathe it all in at once. The lazy haze of smoke hung lifelessly in the still air as I moved through it. The stars fill the black sky hanging above me while the moon shines its borrowed light upon the quiet earth below. The air is still. silent. vibrant.
I turn the corner and put the light of the moon at my back casting shadows all around me. As my eyes strain to see the familiar landscape ahead, a slow, silent fear begins to grip me. The landscape is no longer familiar as shapes take on dark facades and I see nothing but shadows.
"Is that a figure of a person coming toward me?" I wonder silently entering a mild state of panic. The shadows dance around me, taunting me as I try to decipher what is real and what is not; what is moving and what isn't.
In that moment, I realize that I am completely helpless. 
If an animal were to come at me or a person with sinister intent, I would be utterly and completely defenseless. As my mind waged war with the spirit of fear threatening my soul, the joy that I had as I walked just moments ago vanished and left nothing but a heavy weight of fear of the unknown.

This is my road.
I have met with God countless times on my road. I know this road. The gravel is familiar beneath my feet and the fragrance of the air brings life to my spirit.
But now that I walk in darkness, physically alone and trying to discern shadow from reality, the road feels unfamiliar and threatening.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
 even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you.

Psalm 139: 7-12

During my time in Honduras, I committed this entire Psalm to memory and it has breathed life into my soul thousands of times. As the landscape of life changes it is often accompanied by a silent and overwhelming spirit of fear that screams into my soul and threatens to invade every recess of my spirit. 

The road of life stretches out before me and I strain to see what is ahead and I try to discern what is real and what is not, but I must stand and defy the shadows. I must not turn tail and run like I want to. 

Life can be so familiar, so full of cold, crisp, life giving air one moment and in the next, it feels as though everything that was once secure is gone and the familiar has been overtaken by shadows. 

I will take of hold of truth. 

I will allow Truth to take hold of me. 

I will walk in freedom and courage. 

even in the midst of shadows. 

knowing that what is darkness to me, 

is light to Him. 

What is unknown to me, 

is known to Him. 

fear will no longer have a hold on me. 

a man and his biographer: a note to wives

I have seen too many marriages crumble around me to stay quiet on the matter.
Another high profile marriage bites the dust--this time it is the husband with blood on his hands and shame on his face.

You can hardly flip on the news without hearing about ex-CIA Director David Petraeus cheating on his wife of more than two decades with a young aspiring PhD student so interested in his life she wrote a book about it. Is it a wonder that a man became dangerously attracted to a woman so interested in him and his endeavors that the pinnacle of her career was documenting his life and achievements?

While I admit to know little to nothing about the situation and while I hold Mr. Petraeus accountable for his poor choices, I must write a note to my fellow wives. I write this in love and I write this as a woman often oblivious to the kind of wife I ought to be at times. As I wrote in an earlier post, I am slowly learning to understand this complex and mind blowing thing we call marriage. 

As I stated in a girl and her bodyguard: a letter to husbands, a woman needs to know she will be protected. A woman needs to know that her husband is jealous for the affections of her heart and longs to protect them as his own. A woman needs to know that he will fight for her and stand in the gap for her and their marriage. Protection is vital.

For a man however, I have learned that my admiration and public support and approval of him speaks to his heart and soul in a big way. He needs me to support him vocally, affirm him in front of his peers and respect him both publically and privately. He needs me to be interested in his endeavors, supportive in his work and encouraging in his ministry. He needs me to ask him about his day and listen with eager ears without snotty comments or snide remarks. He needs me to walk shoulder to shoulder with him as he provides, strives and learns. It is to my great blessing when I do this and it only hurts me in the long run to deprive him of this. 

For my husband to know that I admire him is huge. He needs to know that I am thankful for his hard work and contribution to our family whatever it may look like. Expressing my gratitude is worth more than I can wrap my mind around sometimes. My husband needs to know that I will stand by him as he tries, support him if he fails and cheer him on through it all.  

It is important for my husband to know I am attracted to him and to pursue him. It is my job and mine alone to be the woman who fills his head with images and memories that he can savor in the moments of physical separation or temptation. It is my job as a wife to meet his needs sexually and to enjoy those times of intamacy. If I don't, you can bet your bottom dollar that another woman will be willing to do so. Nearly six years ago, we endured nearly six months of abstinence due to a medical condition. Those were trying months for both of us, so I understand the desire paired with inability. It was during this time that we spent a lot of time in prayer together regarding this part of our relationship and sought other ways to meet that need so as not to make us vulnerable to temptation. 
(Sorry Dad, this was probably way too much information for you! ;) 

I understand how challenging it is to be the woman that I just wrote about. 

As my husband always tells me--it's not about being perfect, it's about being willing.
It is about being willing to at least ride along in the golf cart occasionally or chat as he changes the oil in the car. In the midst of careers, babies and the dailyness of life I understand how easily marriages can drift apart. As a wife committed to my marriage I will commit to a spirit of willingness. I will commit to be a woman that is interested; a woman that respects my husband both publically and privately. I will be his greatest cheerleader and his biggest support. I will forsake all others and will cling only to him while honoring God as the creator of marriage and all that it is intended to be. 

And at the end of the day, when I pass or when I fail, 

I will snuggle in close and say with all I have within me, 

"I love you and my heart is yours." 

a girl and her body guard: a note to husbands

It's all over pop culture news--the latest high profile scandal--the latest dish on who slept with who and they were still married to who?! news story.
The headlines are everywhere:

Heidi Klum Dumps Husband Seal for Bodyguard 

or

Klum Fornicates with Hired Help

Ah yes, just another day in Hollywood history. 

Beautiful woman married to successful man falls in love with her bodyguard. 

Unbelievable? I think not. Shocking? Hardly. 

Now I am no marriage therapist but does it really surprise anyone to hear that a woman is attracted to the point of adultery to a man that protects her? 

Now hold your ponies for a minute before you start thinking that I am ok with this or think that this is 'normal' or fine. I have seen adultery up close and way too stinking personanlly to brush it off as no big deal or 'something natural'. But one thing I will say, women want to be need to be protected and if that protection is not coming from her husband, you can bet your pretty penny that there is a man out there willing to do the job. 

This is not to say that women are these delicate little creatures that are not able to survive without a strong man to protect them and care for them. This is not to say that Heidi was innocent in the matter or that adultery is justified when there is a deficit in the marriage. I speak as a woman that is slowly growing to understand this complex and mind blowing relationship called marriage.

Through the last blissful decade of my life, I have had the great joy of living life hand in hand with my very best friend. It has been my agony at moments and my sheer delight in many others to be the one to meet his needs and stand by him as an unwavering support. Together we are a united front. Without that unity, we are destined to fail. This is not to say that we never disagree or fail to see things eye to eye--it is saying that we have learned that in spite of our disagreements we are still on the same team and if we don't fight for our marriage, no one will. 

For a woman, it is critical to know that he will defend her and protect her. This does not mean that she can treat others poorly while he stands idly by agreeing with her actions. Just the opposite actually. A man that protects is a man that loves her enough to protect her from herself...often her greatest enemy. 

A man that protects her is a man that will fight for her when she is too weak, too weary or too broken to find the will to fight for herself. A man that protects her is a man that sees her beauty and sees her affections as something to be fought for...guarded...cherished, even if it is costly to him to do so. A man that protects her is a man that prays the armor of God over her as each day begins knowing that the power of God is greater than anything on earth. A man that protects is a man that steps in and dares to speak truth when she is over committing or afraid of the opinions of others. A man that protects is a man that sees the need to take her out of her role as mom and housewife to give her the space to simply be a friend and companion. 

From the time she was twirling in tutu's and dreaming of brave knights on white horses, she has imagined romance and has seen it in the eyes of her protector. 

A girl and her body guard. 

Romance and protection. 

Some things never change. 

What if?

The kids dragged their feet as they brushed their teeth and struggled to follow directions with joyful and willing hearts. The grumbling was not discreet and their lack of desire for family Bible time was evident. As we gathered around, snuggled warmly beneath our blankets, some snuggled next to Dad as we opened to Paul's letter to the Colossians. The furnace worked quietly to heat the air around us and the dishwasher purred as it cleaned the dishes that we used just hours before around the family dinner table, full of warm food and delicious dessert. We gave little thought to the Bibles open in our laps or the padded floor or sofas we sat on. We did not fear for our saftey as we gathered for prayer and Bible reading. We did not secretly gather earlier this morning as we pulled into a church parking lot full of nice cars. As we sat upon cushioned pews wearing our Sunday best, we lifted our voices freely to the God on High, giving little to no thought of the gift we have to worship openly. When the service was finished, we all exited the building--not taking turns over the course of hours so as not to alert anyone of possible church activity, but rather freely, with Bibles in plain view and the Word fresh in our minds.

As we gathered around the Word of God tonight, we were humbled by Paul's words...

'Continue steadfastly in prayer,

being watchful in it with thanksgiving.

At the same time, pray also for us, that God may

open to us a door for the Word, 

to declare the mystery of Christ, 

on account of which I am in prison--

that I may make it clear, which is how I ought to speak.

I, Paul, write this greeting with my own hand. 

Remember my chains. 

Grace be with you.'

Colossians 4:2-4, 18

Paul was not shaming those not imprisoned for the Gospel. Paul was simply and directly reminding them to pray, to remember and to give thanks. 

I love what Paul's request for prayer is: opportunity to share the Word of God and the ability to share it well in the midst of his imprisonment. 

He was not asking for prayer regarding his release--although this is not wrong. 

He was not asking for prayer regarding his health or safety--although these are also great to pray for. 

While these things may have been on his prayer list, his main 'concern' was that his circumstances would not snuff out the opportunities to share or his desire to share the life giving, liberating Gospel of Peace. 

While in a dungeon of a cell, his spirit longed for others to know what true freedom really was. 

As I think about my own life and the call to public ministry I have, I have to ask myself how different my days would be if I had people praying like this for me. If I prayed like this for me...my husband...my children. How would the landscapes of our lives and workplaces and homes and churches change if our hearts were drawn beyond our circumstances to glorifiying God in the midst of them? How different would this world be if we were faithful to remember those in chains--right now--for the sake of the Gospel? What if we took the time to stop and pray for those meeting in secret, for those hiding their precious Bibles, for those smuggling the sacred Word so that all may know and all may hear? 

What if we too, stepped out in boldness, and dared to share the Truth with someone in need of hope? What if I stopped making excuses for my silence and spoke the Gospel of peace with love and conviction? What about that person with the cubicle next to my husband's going through a divorce? What about the mother down the road struggling to raise her kids alone? What about my husband's co-workers and the Schwans man who stops by once a month? 

What if I started to pray for opportunities to share the life giving freedom of Christ? 

What if I remembered to pray for those in chains? 

What if? 

on apathy and tolerance

Election day is almost here. 

It is a day that I love and I day that I dread. 

While this is not a political blog and my views are not something I feel the need to 'impose' on anyone, God has been stirring this in my own heart and I can ignore the prompting to share no longer. 

A long time ago, a rebellious people once committed to God, not only turned their back on God and His principles, but savored their disobedience without shame. Being a God of justice, He called on His prophet Ezekiel and gave him specific instructions by which to deal with the abominations so shamelessly enjoyed. The gifts that God gave for their blessing were being defecated and profaned. He would tolerate it no longer. 

As the book of Ezekiel unfolds, it is cringe worthy to hear some of the words spoken to Ezekiel on behalf of God's wayward people. Ezekiel 9 stopped me dead in my tracks. I must share it's powerful words with anyone willing to listen. 

'And the Lord said to him (Ezekiel),

"Pass through the city, 

through Jerusalem, 

and put a mark on the foreheads of the men who sigh and groan 

over all the abominations that are committed in it." 

And to the others in he said in my hearing, 

"Pass through the city after him, and strike.

Your eye shall not spare, and you shall show no pity. 

Kill old men outright, 

young men and maidens, 

little children and women, 

but touch no one on whom is the mark. 

And begin at my sanctuary."

Ezekiel 9: 4-6a

I have wrestled with God's appearance of heartless justice here...I mean, old men and children? Really? 

Yes, really. 

It is not that God is a heartless murderer, 

He is jealous for the affections of the hearts of His people, the same way an adoring husband longs to protect the affections of his bride's heart and have her reserve them for him alone. 

He will tolerate no sin. Not even apathy on behalf of old men or children. 

As His people went astray, there were those who did not participate directly in the profanity, but did nothing to stop it. It simply did not affect them. Their hearts were numbed to the sin swirling around them. 

They did not groan. They did not weep. They did not speak out. 

They did nothing. 

Because it appeared as though it didn't affect them. 

Apathy resided where sadness should have been. 

Tolerance was seated where righteous fury should have stood. 

Silence spoke volumes where moaning and sadness should have been heard. 

And God was angry. 

Fast forward thousands of years to a nation once built on the truth of God's Word and a desire to love Him freely. 

One nation under God.

A nation that now freely sacrifices its precious, voiceless unborn on the altar of 'free choice'. 

A nation that no longer holds in high honor the reverent union of man and wife. 

A nation that deeply believes family is nothing more than a relative term to be defined by whomever, however. 

A nation that was once built on God and yet is blatantly turning its back on God. 

A government that is rapidly becoming god to many. 

And God is angry. 

I believe that God is angry with the silence of His people. 

If His people don't fight for righteousness in the public square, who will? 

If God's people tolerate the sin of others for fear of personal offense, then righteousness becomes a lesser priority and ultimately so does eternal destiny. 

While mothers and fathers slaughter the unborn and men fornicate openly with men, we sit idly by and say, 

"It doesn't affect me." 

God says, 

"I will bring their deeds upon their heads." (Ezekiel 9:10) 

God gave us a voice as well as a sphere of influence. 

I may never be on the city council, the school board or take my seat in the senate, 

but I have a voice and God is commanding me to use it for those that can hear me.  

God is calling our hearts to break and our voices to groan on behalf of the heinous things that are celebrated in our nation.  

If they don't, we are just as guilty.  

God looks upon His people and has bestowed upon them an intense responsibility--

fight for righteousness. Defend the defenseless. Take a stand for truth. 

He expects obedience. 

He will tolerate apathy for only so long. 

God gave you a voice. 

Get out there and use it. 

Go vote your values. 

<><tce

what it takes

The days have started to get long and there are moments that I question my ability to get my little boy through this. He needs is daddy. 

Sure, he may need more sleep or he may need more of this or that, but truthfully--the kid needs his dad.

He doesn't articulate it like that of course, but as a mama, you know when your baby is just downright sad. He is definitely sad.  

My husband has been away over seas building a church in the heart of the jungle. When he looked me in the face and said, "Baby, this is what God has for me...what He has for us" I knew this was the right choice. It is not that he is not safe, it is just hard to say good bye. I was the one to go two years ago and prayed over this very spot of jungle bush and asked God to bless this place and erect His church to reach three indigenous tribes with the Gospel. Freedom they so desperately needed.  Light when all they knew was darkness and evil oppression. Hope when they had none. 

Six months later, by no small miracle, the land was purchased and the clearing process began. 

Six months later, a temporary structure was 'complete' and sixty school children moved to their new location. 

Six months later, the building began. Six months after that, my husband responded in obedience, packed his work boots and some Gatorade, boarded a plane and crossed the Atlantic to stand where I stood two years ago. 

That was ten days ago. 

He was supposed to be home today but...

Hurricane Sandy landed on the east coast instead of the man we all miss like crazy. 

So...we continue to wait. 

During this time of separation, my heart has been aching--not for my own temporary loss, but for the not-temporary losses of dear friends who really know the ache of loneliness and for the military men and women that endure months apart for the sake of our freedom. I have wept tears of empathy for a dear, sweet woman living life as a widow. My heart has spent hours in prayer for her, and even more this week as I have a minuscule understanding of the separation she endures every day. 

As I look at my life I see how God is so faithful and yet I am such an Israelite sometimes. 

He parts the Red Sea and drowns the enemy. They barely reach the other side and they are already doubting God's faithfulness. Blessing falls from the sky--literally--and they complain about what they do not have. 

I am so willing to accept blessing from God and yet I respond with clenched fists when hurricanes hit and reunions are delayed. 

Truth is, my faith is nothing if I only I rejoice and give thanks when the sky is blue and the sun is shining. As my heart is sad for my little ones that miss daddy, we have given thanks for the daddy we have, the memories we have, and the reunion we have to look forward to. 

We give thanks that He is faithful even in the storm--literally and figuratively. 

We give thanks because they are times like these that our hearts catch a glimpse of the pain that others live with, and cause our own hearts to pause and pray and send a simple note of encouragement. 

As much as my boy needs his daddy, we need hearts of gratitude and empathy. 

Sometimes, it takes a church in the jungle and a hurricane on the coast to produce that.

I'll take it. 

<><tce