A Boy and a Girl in a Little Canoe...

Last week my husband Jay was finally able to cash in one of his Christmas presents: a Groupon for a tandem canoe trip down the Caney. Our small vessel was named Discovery 16. She was a good ship.

Jay's never been canoeing before, and though I've been four times, the instructional/warning/Chinese-water-torture-rivaling video they showed on our ride to the Caney took away any bit of confidence I had in my oar-wielding expertise. Had I inadvertently signed us up for our official last date on the murderous white rapids?

Hardly.

The water was beyond calm. The only troubles we encountered were spots of the river that were so shallow our boat scraped bottom and slight sunburn on our knees and shoulders. And the fact that Jay's strokes were about twice as forceful as mine, so we tended to weave a little (no, a lot).

The oh-so-terrifying instructional video told us the heavier individual should sit in the back of the canoe. Being in the front (since my 6foot5inches husband earned the back), meant that I couldn't see him: how could we paddle in harmony? Frustratingly, we often couldn't get our paddling in sync.

Our only other problem happened the few times Jay said he was going to lie back and enjoy the quiet; I ended up getting us adrift in a bad direction, needing his overly-strong oar-work to set us right.

In our marriage in general, I sometimes think, It would just be easier to do this myself! I don't nag, to the extreme that my resistance to asking for help often leaves me under a pile of chores I don't really have to do alone. In the canoe, I saw the upcoming danger and called to Jay for help. Together we could steer away from trouble.

Today I asked my toddler to carry a heavy bag to another room. As he struggled, I came over to give him a hand.

"Let me take some of the weight. You still carry it."

"Teamwork?" he asked.

"Yes, teamwork."

Lessons:
1) Asking for help when you need it is okay and better than running your marriage into a tree or your sanity into the ground.
2) Looking out for times when your spouse may need help and not be asking, like when my son was willing to struggle with his heavy bag, could be a good way to say, I love you.
3) Wear sunscreen.
4) Don't worry over everything that an instructional video shows you; they have to cover all possible tragedies.
5) After eight years of marriage (and after even more than that), you can still find something new and fun to do together.
6) Don't stop going on dates.
7) Maybe you should stop reading my blog (though come back later this week to read more), and go spend time with someone you love right now.

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Ephesians, Epidermis, and Eternal Love

And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge —that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Ephesians 3:17—19

 My two-and-a-half-year-old, Jack, can officially sing “You Are My Sunshine” in its entirety.  When we make it a duet and get to the line, “You’ll never know, Dear, how much I love you,” I often tear up. He really can never know. Even when they look into the eyes of their own children some day, my boys will not truly recognize how much they are my heart.

 

Sermon after Bible class after devotional group has talked about the link of our love for our children and God’s love for us. I’ve heard it, and I do admit that having my own children and experiencing the power of this parent adoration first-hand has redefined, for me, love in general. But sometimes I feel I should change the song lyric to “Jesus loves me—this I forget.”

And then I Google searched “Verse of the Day” for some inspiration and came across Ephesians 3:17—19 on Biblegateway.com.

Why do I forget His love for me? Because it surpasses knowledge.

I cannot fathom biology, so I chose to forget about how I have veins and bones and organs. What I see (skin, nails, freckles) is what I think of more often. Even then, my knowledge of the epidermis goes little beyond knowing the word “epidermis.”

God’s love is wide, long, high, deep. Knowing it, even a little, can “fill us to the measure of all fullness.” Just a little of God’s love goes a long way. And God isn’t singing, “You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you;” He’s saying, “One day, Jessa, I’ll hold you, and you’ll know. You'll know.”

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Block Writer's Block

Something I rarely suffer from: writer’s block. Ask those close to me—I’m just not often at a loss for something to say. I’m an introvert, so I need my alone-power-up time, but I’m also one of the first men out in a game of Quiet Mouse.

As a writer and writing professor, I’ve come up with a couple of tips to help anyone suffering from this ailment. They all boil down to this important point—remember, writing is a relationship between you and your craft. That means a couple of things.

1)   Don’t ignore your craft. She’ll grow angry and resentful. Spend time with her, at least a little, at least five times a week. Even if it’s a well-written Post-It (because I’m pretty sure that’s what William Carlos Williams’s famous poem entitled “This is Just to Say”* originally was), spend time together.

2)   If she seems allusive, set the mood. Maybe light a candle? Perhaps you should rub some lavender massage gel on your keyboard?** She cannot be expected to work in a tense environment. Help her relax before you bombard her with the sound of ticki-ticki-tacking.

3)   Learn her needs, and meet them.

a.     Is she a morning person? A night owl?  Work where she prefers.***

b.     In what kind of environment does she flourish? Take her out on dates to the local coffee shop or a park. Spend a quiet evening at home. You might be surprised where the two of you get along best.

4)   Study her! Books about her abound.****

5)   Play with her! She’s not all five-paragraph essays. She’s a sonnet, a short story, a blog entry—she’s complex and has many facets. She has punctuation, sentence structure, paragraph…she’s a constant challenge, and you should both respect and delight in her for it.

6)   When writing isn’t easy, be easy on your writing. Say, “It’s okay.” Spend a little time apart, but not for too long. Your craft needs you. You need her. No matter how frustrated she sometimes makes you, you keep coming back because you know her value as a friend in your life. She listens no matter what you say—and she instantly forgets your stupidity or mistakes with simple taps of the delete button. It’s worth it. Keep writing!

                                               

*“This is Just to Say”

I have eaten

the plums

that were in

the icebox

and which

you were probably

saving

for breakfast

Forgive me

they were delicious

so sweet

and so cold

(I kid you not—that’s the entire poem.)                                                                

**Computer gurus everywhere suggest you do not rub oil onto your keyboard. However, computer salesmen awaiting the commission from your upcoming purchase say, “Go for it!”

***If she is a morning person, and you are a night owl, or vice versa—Publix brand coffee is tasty and not too expensive.

****Two of my favorites are Strunk and White’s Elements of Style and Zinsser’s On Writing Well.

*****This Underwood typewriter was a gift from my dad, sitting on my desk one day with the below note on it. I used my tongue to take the picture of my hands on the keys.

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Bare, We Bear the Bear

"Benevolence" by Jessa

“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love” (Ephesians 4:2).

I’ll be the first one to tell you that humility is my finest quality. It’s easy and natural for me to be meek, to remain quiet about my greatness (because, after all, it is so overwhelmingly obvious—there is no need to vocalize it).

And gentleness and patience? Please! You won’t see me overreact. I’m like a ship sliding through a smooth ocean breeze. Nothing rocks my boat. Just ask my husband. If he says otherwise, he’ll have to answer to me.

But humility—that’s my best characteristic.

So, really, the hardest part about being married is being married to an imperfect person. Since I’ve got it all down, he’s really just weighing me down. But that’s my lot to bear, because I do love him.

And what is this marriage love?

It’s not about finding a perfect spouse (because that’s not going to happen, since my husband is the only one who has); it’s about finding someone whose imperfections you can tolerate.

For. The. Rest. Of. Your. Life.

Bearing the bear, forever.

And how do you do that? I’ll pull my tongue out of my cheek and quote some scripture.

Step one to love is becoming bare. Step two is to keep loving. Christ knows exactly what we are, and He died for us, full of that knowledge (Romans 5:8). And His love is unstoppable by anything here, hereafter; of earth, of heaven; of any range of power—nothing can separate us from His love (Romans 8: 37–39), which is to be an example of marital love (Ephesians 5:25), though Christ (perfect) and His church (imperfect) are imbalanced compared to man (imperfect) and wife (imperfect).

We all fall short of God’s glory, but He still gives us grace (Romans 3:23). And our spouses will sometimes delight and sometimes disappoint us, but with humility, gentleness, and patience, we can continue on “bearing one another in love.”

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The Wisdom of Captain America

Jay and I finally got to celebrate our eight-year anniversary, and, cool wife that I am, I thought we should go see The Avengers.

(My oldest, Jack, has always loved his Hulk action figure.)

I love a good superhero/mutanthero movie, and this film exceeded my expectations. (Perhaps because I didn’t have very many? I’m a little behind on the storylines of most of the heroes involved. In any case, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.)

A particularly important plot line caught my attention and made me think. At one point, Thor and Ironman are fighting while the real bad guy sits on a cliff. Captain America brings up the point that this is not the best plan of action. Later, Thor tells the Hulk (who is angry, of course, and bringing the smack-down on Thor): “I’m not your enemy.”

In Genesis 11:5 (Wait, what? She just jumped from The Avengers to the Bible? Yeah, I’m like that.), God recognizes the power of mankind. When we unite, we can do anything.  I tend to be stubborn and rebellious, but these qualities have helped me in life. I decided being a good girl was the rebellious thing to do in my public high school (since it wasn’t the norm), and my stubbornness kept me going. We can also use our strength in numbers for good or for evil. In Genesis 11, the plans to build a giant tower in praise of their own awesomeness was thwarted by the God of Ultimate Awesomeness. He ruined their unity, because He knew that would ruin their ability.

When we get together, we can accomplish so much—but too often we either 1) go it alone, 2) use our united strengths for the wrong purposes, or 3) waste our energies fighting the wrong enemies.

If God is for me, who can be against me (Romans 8:31)?

Me.

Jack and Captain America

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Proverbs, Pennies, and Me

My post today is a portion from Proverbs through the Generations, a book I co-wrote with my grandfather and dad. This O’More Publishing work will come out in about two weeks! As I’m reviewing how much I’ve been spending this previous month, I realized I needed the reminder.

A greatly misquoted Bible verse is 1 Timothy 6:10. The popular line is “money is the root of all evil,” when, in fact, the verse actually says, “The love of money is the root of all kinds of evil” (emphasis added).  In Proverbs 28 Solomon points out the tempting powers of riches. Just as the honey in Proverbs 25, so can the pursuit of wealth divert us from our true life goals as Christians.

However, affluence, in and of itself, won’t make us sin. Frivolity is not a path taken only by the rich; in fact, frivolity can be the very thing keeping a family from creating a secure financial status. People who have little, people who have a lot—anyone can waste; anyone can claim there isn’t enough. I’ve watched families make financial blunder after blunder because they couldn’t manage money. “If we made more, we’d be alright,” they say. Sometimes the amount you make does dictate your financial struggles. Recently a friend of mine named Tim Smith showed the other side, though, when he told me that if you make more, or make less, you’ll spend it. It makes me think that if you are unwise with little, you’d probably be unwise with a lot.

Financial security for your family is a noble goal. It shouldn’t be obtained by trickery or dishonesty or miser-hood, though. And wisdom in saving and spending should be a family task. Children should be taught how to handle money and budget by parents who set the example.

We cannot be distracted in life by the desire for riches, we cannot claim to be piously poor while we are, in fact, wasting God’s gifts and destroying security for our family, and we cannot even claim that a trust in the Lord to provide is the reason for our poor financial decisions. (God did provide, and we squandered it.) None of these lifestyles show a faithfulness and appreciation for God’s blessings, and all of them will leave us feeling poor.

You can tell Jonas loves a good deal as much as I do. 

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These Feet Weren't Made for Running...

…but that’s just what they’ll do. On October 21, 2012, to be exact. My husband just signed us up for a 5k.

You have to know me to know I don’t run. I’ve started with a “Couch to 5k” training program. (I’m slightly insulted. I told my mom I’m at least of a “Stool to 5k” caliber.) I like the idea of running. I like the idea of saying that I’m a runner. But I don’t like running.

Why?
1) My feet turn out. Specifically, my right foot turns out, and it turns out more and more the more and  more tired I get. As you can imagine, running makes me tired. I feel as though I spend a lot of my
mental processing while running reminding myself to
           a. turn my right foot inward like a normal person and
           b. breathe in a manner that doesn’t make me sound like a braying mule. Which brings me to

2) Apparently I am not such a good breather. Breathing should be natural and easy, correct? Then why do I have such a hard time with it? I was field commander for my marching band, for Pete’s sake; I should be able to find some sort of breathing rhythm.

3) And, um, it hurts to run. It hurts my right foot, which isn’t used to being turned in and then gets forcibly turned in during some pretty rigorous pave-pounding. It hurts my lungs. When it’s cold it
hurts my ears. When it’s hot it hurts my everything.

So I’ve tried to think of ways to make the dreadful seem less dreadful.
1) I am listening to a Hemingway novel on my iPod. I love Hemingway about as much as I dislike running. Perhaps the love-hate juxtaposition will create some sort of universal balance, making running less horrid?
          a. No.
          b. But at least I get some Hemingway time in.

2) I run past beautiful houses, and I think to myself, I bet some person inside that house is sitting on a couch envying my being a runner. 
          a. Probably not.
          b. But at least I get to see some pretty houses.

Nothing really makes it less dreadful, except, maybe—the hoped-for outcomes.
1) This post baby-weight isn’t burning off on it’s own.

2) I get to classify myself, officially, as a runner (which comes up surprisingly easily and often in  
      conversations these days: Oh, yes, when I run blah blah blah…).

3) And, now, I’ll be able to complete a 5k on October 21, 2012.

My friend Amanda Sekulow once told me that working towards a specific goal is incredible motivation. We can surprise ourselves at our accomplishments if we’ll just recognize we have the potential to succeed!

So, October 21, 2012, I’m coming for you. Slowly. With both feet turned in, Hemingway blaring, onlookers jealous, and my breathing so rhythmic you could swing a pendulum by it. Or, I’m coming for you, anyway. Faults and all.


"Fit to be tied" from my Red Ribbon Photo Shoot 2011: Emily Mae Anderson, Model and Friend

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