Stephen walks down the aisle. Cowboy boots. Suspenders. A pink bow tie. The ring bearer in a beautiful wedding in a lit up country barn.
And I long. Long for a night like this for him one day. Long for him to grow into a man who loves God. A man who loves a bride and lives life serving God with her.
I don’t wish these little days away. Later the mother/son dance nearly unraveled me. We’ve got years to grow and love and pray.
Every Wednesday we pray for our kids’ spouses. We pray for their purity. We pray for their hearts and minds. And on a night like tonight I ache for it for them. And I kneel by their beds and beg God to protect them. To lead them. The boys to a wife. Esther to a husband.
And I pray for us. That Jeremy and I would model for them what it could be like. That our marriage will be something worth imitating. That our sacrificial love will point them to the sacrificial love of the cross.
I beg for grace. For them. For us. And I fall asleep…believing He wants more for them than my feeble words could ever ask.
“Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us,” (Ephesians 3:20)
I stop doing laundry. Little piles spread across the bed. I grab my journal and scribble these thoughts…
God works in the middle of my fear. In the chaos of my questions. He makes a way when there doesn’t seem to be one. He answers wordless prayers. He’s so faithful.
I hear Him say, “Let me take the wheel. I won’t pry your fingers off. I’ll just love you until letting go only makes sense.”
I hear these words filling my brain-“See, I am making all things new.” “I own the cattle on a thousand hills.” “Be strong and brave.”
There are wilderness days. There are Promised Land days. And in the in between He’s asking, “Will you fall in love with me?”
We are looking for a new home. We are learning to be content in the now. And continuously, He is proving Himself faithful.
“This is my command–be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.”
In the dress her birtmom made her
First lost tooth
It’s Good Friday. It’s Esther’s first birthday. And neither makes sense. I wonder at the Good in Good Friday. I wonder at the miracle of this day last year.
Good Friday brought sacrifice. Jesus gave up His life for us.
Esther’s birth brought sacrifice. Her birthmom gave her to us.
Both compelled by love. Both willing to say yes when it was the hardest choice in the world.
All day I’ve fought tears. She’s toddled around, sported a birthday tiara, and wore the dress her birthmom made her.
There’s just so much overwhelming grace on this day. There’s so much Gospel all around.
We’ll celebrate His resurrection on Sunday. It’s been thousands of years. Today we celebrate the gift of Esther Grace. It’s been a year.
So humbly, with words that don’t do my heart justice, I say thank you. Thank You, Father, for sending us Your Son. What a perfect gift for undeserving us. Thank you, “M,” for trusting us with Esther. We are undeserving of this precious little girl.
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. (Jeremiah 29:11)
He was up til 10:30 fighting sleep. She woke up at 10:30 coughing and needing cuddling til midnight. Although tired, I crawled into bed for a few short hours feeling blessed by 2 sweet babies. Jeremy put his arm around me and said, “You’re a good Mom.” He’s kind to me like that.
Then another one of those late night questions came to mind as my eyes closed, “But am I a good wife?”
Years ago I used purple marker to write out a quote I read in a book. Then I taped it to the wall. It’s made 2 moves with us and looks crinkly on the sides. The words read, “The wise woman remembers she will begin and end as a wife.”
We’ve added 4 kids since then and that thought still challenges me. I will “begin and end as a wife.”
One day these little people will move. Jeremy and I will be left alone. Will the years of parenting have wedged themselves between us forming a void we struggle to cross? Or will these tiring days and nights have brought us closer and more in love?
I ask these questions because I honestly wonder. There are good days and bad. There are seasons where we seem as in love as we did in 1999. There are others where we are too tired to even talk. Marriage is hard. We often miss that message in the bliss.
But it’s worth it. To take time. To listen. To sacrifice. I can look at Jeremy and see more than my husband. I can see him as Christ’s special treasure. The one He willingly died for. The one He loves. I can look at myself in the mirror (still rocking maternity clothes) and say the same thing.
We can offer each other imperfect love because we are loved perfectly. One season at a time.
“Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”
(1 Corinthians 13:7)
Here’s a new song that gets me every time…Broken Together. Enjoy!=)
He’s crazy about her!
He breathes in bed beside me. He breathes in his pack-n-play beside me. The first Pollard boy I fell in love with. The last Pollard boy I’ll fall in love with. I didn’t plan on meeting him at 18. I didn’t plan on having him at 34.
They are both grace to me. God’s goodness to the undeserved. And so are Stephen. And Caleb. And Jonathan. And Esther. And this bed. And the food we eat. And maybe I could go on til the little clock ticked 3 am. All this is grace. Every bit of it.
“For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” (John 1:16)
All this grace is overwhelming me at late night feedings. It’s burning a hole in my heart and changing the way I see life. Grace. Who knew it could do that?
Amy Carmichael wrote of John 1:16-“The picture before us is as of a river. Stand on its banks, and contemplate the flow of waters. A minutes passes, and another. Is it the same stream still? Yes. But is it the same water? No. The liquid mass that passed you a few seconds ago fills now another section of the channel; new water has displaced it, or if you please replaced it; water instead of water. And so hour by hour, and year by year, and century by century, the process holds; one stream, other waters, living, not stagnant, because always in the great identity there is perpetual exchange. Grace takes the place of grace (and love takes the place of love); ever new, ever old, ever the same, ever fresh and young, for hour by hour, for year by year, through Christ.”
And Spurgeon once said, ” As long as I am out of hell I have no right to grumble.” Doesn’t that make every moment grace?
Dear God, please help the rivers not to rush by so quickly that I miss the water. May I plant myself by the stream and moment by moment absorb grace. May I take cupfuls of it and share it with others. And when the water is rocky give me strength even still to call that grace.