Archive for April, 2007

There are so many good things that have already been said of this quote this week, that I don’t feel like I have too much to add. There are two things keep running through my mind. One is that evil is NO match for the glory and power of God. Though I am sure that was not Wenham’s intent. ) Two is I love how he mentions that “evil did its worst”. A lot of times we look to our salvation and the events that brought it about as a wonderful thing – and don’t get me wrong, it is wonderful indeed! – but we easily forget the agony that went along with it.

Iris mentioned The Passion of the Christ. I vividly remember the day after my lovely husband and I watched that movie, sitting in my chair, getting angry with God for having Jesus – the one and only perfect One EVER – take all of MY “crud” upon His perfect self. Imagine that! Being mad over the very thing that saved my soul. It just seemed so unfair. What He went through was brutal, and He deserved none of it, but I did and didn’t get it. What I didn’t deserve and yet was given anyway was Him taking it upon Himself. But that’s what the grace of God is… what He gives to us even though we are unworthy and undeserving of even the smallest drop of it. It took me a little while to come to terms with that, and I’m glad that I went through those angry moments because I feel as though it has made me appreciate the gift a little more. I’ve always been one of those people that requires a swift knock to the head to “get it” sometimes when it comes to God’s love and grace. Seeing it so vividly and having to come to terms with the horror of it and the fact that it was for me (and you) was a big knock.

I’ll end now with a poem I wrote when I was around 14. Yes, it’s quite old but the message still rings true and fits with this week’s quote and the Passover season, so I thought I would share.

The Blood

As blood flowed down His thorn-crowned head
The people shouted, ”This Christ, He’s dead!”
No one assumed, they could not understand
That this crimson blood would save the souls of man

They carried Him to the tomb, and there laid Him down
The blood still clinging to His bruised, scarred crown
As they sealed the grave, they could not conceive
That this blood held power to cleanse all who believe

The third day came, when He rose up again
The scars were still there, but no was blood on Him!
He gave up his life; shed His precious blood for all
Now our lives we must give Him in answer to His call

The power is so great, our minds cannot understand
The love God expressed for us when He revealed His plan
This power is still flowing, coming down like a flood
So will you believe in the Power of the Blood?

© Crystal M.H. 2007

Please visit Iris at Sting my Heart for more on this week’s quote.

Trials. Pain. Healing. Praise. These are all hard for me, especially lately. You know, you can hear the same thing over and over again so many times it starts to sound like a broken record, yet only allow it to sink into the true depths of your soul after you’ve heard it just one more time. I’m not sure why things take so long to seep in sometimes, but I had one of those moments today.

I’ve been pouring over the passage in Romans 5 now for some time. You know it, I’m sure. The one that tells me I’m supposed to be rejoicing in my suffering to the end result of hope. Hope has been plaguing me a lot lately too because the higher your hopes, the more it hurts when they come crashing down on you. The passage, however, of course refers to hope in God and His salvation for us – which never fails or disappoints.

One of the things I like to do when I’m studying a small portion of the Word is to read it in many translations and versions. For the first part of verse 3, one in particular caught my eye:

“But that’s not all! We gladly suffer…” (Contemporary English Version)

Gladly suffer. That’s a far cry from what many people say when they reference trials and tribulations. “Pray and praise your way through it!” with the emphasis on “through it” is common, not “praise because of it”. Yet when you examine this passage and the one in James 1 (“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials…” – NAS) it seems to me like we’re supposed to be rejoicing because of it, not just so we can get through it. It’s there for a reason with a specific purpose in mind, and we’re supposed to be thankful for it because of what God is using it to accomplish in us (hope in Him, perfection/maturity).

Having been plagued with this for a while now seeing that for at least the past year I’ve felt deeply encompassed by one particular trial, and for even more years by yet another one – and for neither of which have I ever been able to raise my head towards heaven with the purpose of thanking Him; today I found myself in a new place. As I read something that was so much like so many things I have read and heard for so long, something clicked and as naturally as a baby cries when it is hungry, my eyes closed and I thanked God for the trial. I’m not quite sure that I meant it, and it was fleeting, but it was still a milestone to me. All along I’ve been pleading and begging and asking why – yearning for hope, peace, endurance and a meaning to it all; but I’ve never been able to thank Him for it and whatever He’s trying to do with it. The idea sounds pretty close to absurd to the human mind, so it is a very hard concept to grasp. It’s not just the final stage of grief, “acceptance”, it goes so far beyond that.

I’m not sure if tonight when I lay down to go to sleep or tomorrow when I get up, I’ll be able to thank Him again… but today, right now, I’ll be thankful for the small things. This one little “aha” moment that helped me shed just a little bit of these rags of sorrow. A sock, perhaps? Who knows, I may kick this thing yet and be able to honestly say:

“You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

that my heart may sing to you and not be silent.
O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.” (Psalm 30:11-12; NIV)

Hi, I’m Crystal. The controlling, condescending, argumentative, pessimistic (but a dreaming pessimist, mind you) fearful, impatient, procrastinating, lazy, manipulative wife. Or at least that’s who I was when I first married my lovely hubby. What a catch I was, right? Or am I still that woman?

Today’s assignment is to write about the person I was over six years ago in comparison to who I am today. I think in many ways I’ve changed, but in many I’ve stayed the same. In the first couple years of our marriage, we went through some rough times (not marital issues, just tough personal issues) that served to both strengthen me and tear me down. I quickly learned that being condescending would not serve me or my marriage well, and in fact, it could bring about death. Proverbs 18:21 says “Death and life are in the power of the tongue…” (NKJV) I don’t find it coincidental that the very next verse speaks of the treasure and favor in finding a good wife. I know that the words we, as wives, speak to (and about) our husbands can serve to either destroy or build them up and this can take many shapes – spiritual, emotional, mental, and even physical. I had to learn very early on both how to hold my tongue (when I wanted to destroy) and use my tongue (when I needed to build up) if I wanted a husband. This has translated into how I approach other situations as well. I don’t run into debates with blood boiling very often anymore. I figured out it’s better to be informative and calm in an approach to a touchy subject than it is to be emotional and go in with guns blazing. That is one very big way I have changed I think.

Another thing I learned pretty quickly is that my husband cannot be manipulated. He’s not one of the dumbed-down hubbies you see portrayed in the media these days (I never questioned his intelligence, just in case you were wondering lol) who can be conned into doing whatever the wife desires just by her “making him think it was his idea”. Riiiight. Does that really ever work for anyone? He also taught me how important it is to respect both him as a person and his position.

My lovely hubby says that he’s found that I have matured in my knowledge and understanding of God. I think I agree with that. I’ve definitely grown into my “child of God” skin in the past few years. As I wrote a few weeks ago, I’ve started to learn more OF and IN God instead of just ABOUT God. There really is a difference. To build on that though, I think I’ve just plain matured, period. I look back at things I did and said and see others do and say today and see how much I’ve changed. I’m not trying to toot my own horn here, just reflecting. It’s a bit sobering when you are horrified by something someone says or does and then realize that you yourself did or said that very thing just a few years ago.

Even though I have matured both in God and in life in general, there are still things about me that have not changed. I’m still very much fearful of many things… and some of those things have only gotten worse. I still deal with phobias and anxiety on a daily basis. I still struggle with control issues and with trusting God to manage the fine details of my life (even though He has never let me down even once) and I still make my husband have to work hard at being a good husband sometimes. lol I don’t always make his job easy. However, we always work through it all and come out on the other side stronger and better for it. I can only attribute that to his love and patience and His love and patience. It’s definitely not me… neither the 6-years-ago me or the today me.

Please visit Fruit in Season to participate in and read more contributions to Marriage Monday!

Strange title, I know, but this weekend has been pretty tough and I can honestly say I’m a little glad to see it go. First of all, it rained all weekend. Rain is good, but it always depresses me a bit. Plus, it made us have to push back our pest control guy from spraying our yard for fleas! We’ve had a few fleas pop up on our little furbabies since we fostered that fluffy puff marshmallow a couple months ago and I.Do.Not.Like.Fleas.

I spent most of Saturday and some of Sunday cleaning out our (fully converted) garage. As I was cleaning and consolidating some boxes, I realized that at some point in time, one of the far corners – outside wall – had gotten water on it. Naturally I freak out and even more naturally my husband tries to calm me down. I called our water detective (aka “Dad”) and he helped us try to figure it out. So far, we think it could be from a wall unit air conditioner (which does not get used often – right now, the “garage” is basically our storage room), our standing freezer, or from the outside. After a couple of experiments, we’re thinking it is probably not coming in from outside, but we’re not completely sure yet. *sigh* Talk about stress. Now I want to start knocking down the walls and checking for mold. Can we say over-reacting?

Friday and Sunday I was reminded yet again how much of a failure I am as a woman as the single lines on my HPTs glared back at me, taunting me. Such evil things, those single lines are. Three weeks ago I was ready to abandon all hope of ever having a child of my own blood (I want to adopt someday whether I ever give birth or not) then hope started to creep back in. I’m not so sure that hope is a good thing since the higher your hopes are, the more it hurts when they come crashing down on you. You know you’ve been trying to conceive for too long when you’re sitting in the middle of a restaurant and a couple with a young son and teeny tiny newborn sit next to you and you spend the rest of your visit there trying not to bawl.

Sunday I found out that my grandmother is back in the hospital – this time with a blood infection. An infection which would otherwise not be that big of a deal for a healthy person got into her blood and became serious since her immune system is compromised due to the chemo she has been on. Please keep her (Jane) in your prayers. I also found out today that a friend/former co-worker’s mother was in a pretty serious car accident. Thankfully she walked away from it with just some broken ribs and a few other injuries, but had there been someone in the passenger seat, that person may not have survived. My friend’s young daughter was almost in that passenger seat! Thank the Lord for mother’s intuition (or in this case, I think the Holy Spirit).

So I’m sad, I’m tired, I’m worried (and of course a little thankful) and I’m very glad that tomorrow is a new day. Let’s just hope that the new day brings better news.

On a friend’s blog (For the Fun of it) I saw that 5MinutesforMom is hosting a contest for a Dyson Slim vacuum! How’s that for a great prize?

You don’t have to be a blogger to enter (though why on earth would you NOT be a blogger??) so go and enter here and also be sure to check out the rest of Susan & Janice’s site!