An Open Letter to My Husband

     I have the heart knowledge that I married the best man I have ever known, but sometimes my brain forgets. 

     Complaining has to be one of the laziest pastime's in existence. It takes no effort or skill to look around and see reasons to be disappointed. We might be able to claim cleverness in the way we deliver the zinger part of the time, but we are lazy all of the time if we choose to express dissatisfaction rather than gratitude.

     As strife has increased in my life, I have slipped into a mindset of resentfulness. I have decided not to offer up any explanations or justifications in this paragraph. The characteristics of our humanity comes with pros and cons. This one is a con; that wrong thinking leads me to so say wrong and do wrong. Therefore, I leave here an open letter to my husband where I offer repentance and appreciation.

"Kevin, recently, I could have afforded you more credit than I gave. The lists of your 

admirable qualities and acts of kindness are extensive, yet I can easily summarize them. 

You have loved me well. Since the beginning of 'us', you have been a constant source of 

comfort and strength; even when I was undeserving. Whether we are relaxing under the 

warmth of a brilliant sun, or navigating through a fierce storm on a dark night, I am 

grateful that you are by my side guiding and supporting me. For who you are and all that  

you do, I honour you. I love you."

How a Kitchen Aid Mixer Taught Me an Important Lesson on Gratitude

     You know that little voice in your head that prompts you to do things? Sometimes, it's hard to know what's Spirit and what is flesh. For many months now, I keep hearing "Write." I, of course, ask a zillion questions about what to write. "Just write," is the returning answer. Seeing how these two words are not going away, I am dusting off this old blog. I have a lot of reservations about what I may end up saying. But if I am just to start writing, I might as well start with the lesson I've learned from owning a Kitchen Aid Stand Mixer.

     I am a little weary tonight. Today, I spent hours cataloging items to post for sale on social media and Kijiji. I am thankful to God, that I have made quite a few sales. He is always good, though! Shortly before 8 pm, I was pacing back and forth in my living room. My 3 year old was already in bed. My 17 month old was still up. I held him on my hip. We both stared out the back window at the yard, and the park, and the street beyond. The sun was setting. I was not looking forward to this last transaction. I was fighting second thoughts as well as the temptation to give into self-pity. After planting a long kiss on my little guy's cheek, I said to him, "I don't want you to ever think that we are anything other than rich." Compared to billions of other people on this planet, we are very rich indeed. I was trying to convince myself of this because it felt like the opposite. Let's just say that I haven't been selling things for extra spending money. As my husband and I are getting serious about being extracted from the current circumstance, it seemed like an appropriate time to sell the Kitchen Aid mixer. 

     The "we are rich" mantra helped me get through the exchange. I sold it for less than I wanted. I wanted to not sell it at all. The lady who came to collect it eyed me up and down as if I were a possible con artist. She seemed incredulous that there could be nothing wrong with the mixer. "Just accept you got a colossal deal and get out my house," is what I wanted to say. Baby on my hip, cash in hand, I closed the door after she left. Despite myself, tears came. My flesh was entreating me to sit down and feel sorry for myself for awhile. Should I not feel wretched that it has come to this? For a moment, I entertained the idea of giving into that dull feeling in my stomach. Then I looked into my youngest's sweet and honest face. Since his infancy, he has a manner of looking at me with such innocence that it pierces through any pretension that I may have unearthing the truth. 

     How could I feel bad about what had just happened? How many women are out there who have sold their actual child (no less sweeter or precious than mine) in exchange for money or food? That is what real lack looks like. I am blessed beyond measure that I had an appliance I could sell used for $150. How many mothers out there have handed over their young to a stranger for less money than I received for that mixer?! I do not actually have a statistic to insert here. Let's be honest though, any number above zero is obscene. This thought sobered me instantly. "We are rich." I said again. Now that I could put my baby to bed, I rocked him in the most comfortable chair in the world. Seriously, I slept 6 straight hours in it once. Looking at my youngest boy, I felt a peace. I knew I had done the right thing. I began to recall how I came to get the mixer in the first place. Despite the fact that this appliance is the most coveted item on a typical wedding registry, I never wanted it. I was actually angry when it was given to me.

     It was my 20th birthday and I was anxious. My father was coming over. My parents had separated a few months earlier. I had been avoiding him as best as I could. The dread of his attendance was coupled with irksome news that he was bringing a gift. My mother knew about it and was trying to prepare me. "It better not be something big or expensive!" This wasn't said out of pretence. I meant it. I wanted nothing from him. He arrived while I was in my room. After a few deep breaths, I walked down the hall into the living room. There it was. A big wrapped box was waiting for me in front of the couch. Every muscle in my body reacted to the frustration I was feeling. Of course, the Kitchen Aid mixer is a marvellous appliance. It eventually became the piece de resistance of my kitchen for many years. At that moment, though, the sight of it angered me. I knew that this gift, charged no doubt on a department store credit card, was purchased with the design of purchasing me. It was to buy back my time, my affection, my good opinion. None of these things were for sale. To avoid leaving an impression that I was spoiled or ungrateful, I should explain what had happened 5 months before my birthday.

     We have moments that change us. No one is exempt from this. Sometimes the moments are good, and other times they are bad. The goal is that if our mind and outlook are to be unavoidably altered, pray God that it be to our benefit and that of others. This was a bad moment. 

     It was on a sunny Tuesday when my mother and I learned that his pornography addiction had gotten out of control. I was still asleep when the cops showed up at our home with a search warrant. Who needs coffee with a wake up call like that? He was formally charged a few weeks later. It should be clear now as to why I looked at this extravagant birthday gift with contempt. 

     Life has many recurring themes coursing through it. Tonight, I was twice given the sobering reminder of how poorly the rest of the world lives. Twelve years ago, a mixer was purchased by a man, who had immersed himself into the realm of child exploitation, with the hope that he could redeem himself in his daughter's eyes. Today, it was sold by a woman, who was blessed to not have to immerse herself into the realm of child exploitation, with the confidant expectation that she will always be able to provide for her family. 

     There is not a single doubt in my mind that my Abba God cares about our cares. He values the most trivial things that matter to us. This almost made me cancel the sale tonight. I equally know that God doesn't want us to put too high of a value on our possessions; for where our treasure is, there our heart is also.

     I follow Kristen Welch from the We Are That Family blog. I also sponsor one of the girls at the Mercy House (a blessed organization that she founded). Here is a woman of God who will challenge you in your outlook on life. I appreciate and admire her passion and message! This may seem like a random plug, but if you visit her website, you will not only see the connection but be inspired.

The Last Bit of Oil & Flour

I love it when I find grown-up applications from the Bible stories I recall from childhood. It is special to see how seeds that were sown by my parents and Sunday school teachers through story telling are sustaining me twenty years later. 

Over the last year, I have been drawing from one of the miracles performed through Elijah. He was a prophet during the reign of King Ahab, probably the most evil king Israel ever saw. If that name doesn't ring a bell, Queen Jezebel, his wife, most certainly will. As a result of their wicked ways, Elijah told this royal power couple that there would be no more rain or dew unless he said so. Then, he immediately went into hiding as Queen Jezebel went on a bloodthirsty killing spree of prophets. God sustained him during that time providing him ravens to bring him food and a brook to give him water. Naturally, with no rain, the brook dried up, so the Lord sent him to a town called Zarephath. Elijah was told to be on the look out for a widow. Upon his arrival, he saw her gathering sticks not far from the town gate. He asked her to bring him a little jar of water and a piece of bread. Now the widow was quite willing to fetch him some water, but the piece of bread was a big request. She honestly told him, “As surely as the LORD your God lives, I don’t have any bread—only a handful of flour in a jar and a little olive oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it—and die.” 

It's a heartbreaking scene. It is just her and her loved one. She is poor, also suffering from the drought, and about to use up her last natural resources. In the mind of this widow, there is no hope. They will feed their hunger pains one last time and then die. 

In our Western society, we don't experience the harsh reality of drought too often, certainly not to the point of dying of starvation. But some of us do know the hardship of poverty, the lack of resources and the hopelessness that can come from it. This past winter, Kevin and I entered into a season of "financial" drought. We were married on New Year's Eve in Niagara Falls. We truly had the wedding day of both our dreams: a modest ceremony and celebration--simple and intimate--that transpired without a glitch and did NOT put us into debt! We were blessed beyond measure! We began married life January 1st, 2012 without a penny of credit card debt to our name. Kevin was laid off for the winter season just before Christmas. The timing wasn't ideal, but we had a plan and we had faith. He applied for E.I. well in advance; the Service Canada agent said that it all seemed in order. All we had to do was wait for the first deposit. God had blessed me with a low rent apartment months before (that's low "cost" rent, not low "small means and no class" rent). We had minimal expenses, I was working, and with the generous wedding gifts, we could easily swing it for five weeks if it took that long. Aye, that was the rub. We waited more than five weeks. 

I put the monetary gifts in a little red box in our apartment. I used diligence and tried to go in there as little as possible, but eventually bills were due and the bank account was getting low. I watched the balance drop, dipped more and more in the box, until there was a single Sir-Robert-Borden left. Don't worry Americans; even the Canadian readers are scratching their heads trying to figure out who that is. $100 was left in the box.

The parallel should be obvious at this point. Were we on the brink of starvation or bankruptcy? No. Could we have borrowed money if we needed to? Yes (as a last resort). We were feeling the pressure though. To use that last bill was going to require faith because it was still a week away from my next paycheck. Now before you start reaching for tissues, I caution you to wait because with God there is always hope.

So, the widow has just laid out her plight to Elijah, but he answers her back with words of hope and a challenge for her to have faith in their God. In response, he says,  “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small loaf of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son. For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD sends rain on the land.’” The Bible says that she went away and did as Elijah told her. Being a woman, I can't help but wonder if she leaped up and prepared the food without thinking twice. At the very least, I can imagine her weighing out the pros and cons as she is walking back to the house. After all, this was going to mean less food for her and her son. Could she believe Elijah? It's not like she could quickly check him out on Facebook and verify that he listed "Prophet, Messenger of God" as his job on his profile. In all seriousness, it would require a lot of faith to carry those instructions out. Praise God that she did for He was faithful as always! There was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. The jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry! Read 1 Kings 17 if you don't believe me.

On a Sunday morning in early February, Kevin and I headed down to the beach. We spent our time between discussion and prayer. In my experience, whenever I seek God when out in nature, it is always a divine appointment. But this wasn't one of those sunny, feel good, God is good because we haven't a care in the world kind of meeting. It was overcast, windy, and lightly raining. This was one of those get serious, cling to God's promises because you have nowhere else to turn moments. Married a month, we were looking ahead to the future. Where did we want to live? What did we want to do? What did we want our life to look like? These and many more big questions were at the forefront of our minds. We huddled together beside a rock to keep warm and to be close as we prayed. Jointly we felt enveloped by the Holy Spirit with comfort, hope and strength. We both saw a similar vision of the many ways God was going to bless us. By the time we returned to the car, we both felt strengthened in will, faith and endurance. Refreshed in spirit, I could withdraw that last bill out of the red box with confidence. We stocked up on groceries and praised God. 

When I returned from work that night, Kevin had great news. He had received a phone call that $50 was coming for us as a wedding gift. The next morning, a card was in the letterbox from a relative. Inside was a cheque for $75. In less than 24 hours, God had replenished our box; we were up $25 from the day before. It was at this time, that I thought of the story of Elijah and the widow. I told Kevin that I knew our little red box would never stay empty!

If you know the Bible story well, you may recall that after the initial blessing, the widow's faith and even Elijah's faith were tested one more time. In summary, the widow's son became very sick to the point of death. Overcome with fear and grief, the widow accused Elijah of having come to bring judgment on her. Does that relate at all? Crisis hits and immediately assume that God is punishing us. We see trials as an affliction put on us by an arbitrary God. I am not about to presume to know the mind of God and say that He allows these things for a reason, nor will I say that God has nothing to do with it. All I will say, because this is what I have learned, if trials do come, fall at the feet of Jesus. Surrender the situation into His nail-pierced that bore sin and death for you. If you have Christ in your life know that He already took away the judgment. There is no more condemnation. So don't think that God is punishing you through the hard times, but know that there is nothing more than blessing to be given. The God that sacrificed and resurrected His son will carry you through. Elijah pleaded for God to give back the life to the widow's son and, you guessed right, God granted it. 

About a week after our morning at the beach, we were still waiting for the E.I. It was by no means easy, but we were given sufficient faith each day and believed that God would be our provider. Six and a half days of waiting, then the unexpected happened. Kevin picked me up from work. As soon as I sat in the car and heard the tone in his voice, I braced myself. He had finally got through to someone with Service Canada. His claim was denied because he was 2 hours short.  Each in our turn, we felt like the wind had been knocked out of us. How could this have happened? The agent in Stratford had been grossly incorrect in her calculation of Kevin's hours. Unfortunately, her error had no impact on the claim; their decision was final. 

Now I am not about prattle on about how we handled this with grace and decorum, or that we didn't bat an eyelash in fear or doubt. I have been honest this far, why would I start lying to you now?! Over the next several weeks, there was tension and spats; we took turns beating ourselves us down with feelings of guilt; periodically doubt would try to grab a foothold and I would cling to Kevin and bawl. BUT before we went to bed each night, we would acknowledge that God was in control. He had brought us so far; He was not going to abandon us now. And over those several weeks, there were more unexpected cards with money; there were deals and coupons in flyers that saved us money; we were supported by friends and family, held up by the righteous right hand of God and we did not see the bottom of that little red box. As a visual to spur us on, I put two bottles on our TV: one had a little oil, the other a little flour. We claimed the promise given to the widow that our resources would not run dry until Kevin was called back to work. 

Would it have been easier to have just received the E.I. or for Kevin to have been working straight through the winter? Absolutely. God would have been providing for our needs as much in that scenario as did for us in reality. The difference is that we would have thought WE were providing for ourselves. I doubt that many people look at their paycheck and say, "God gave me this money." No, we say, "I can't believe how little they paid me! I earned way more than that!" Or is that just me... For the first three months of our marriage, the truth was inescapable. GOD was providing every dollar. The other way would have been easier, but how blessed were we to see God's hand, to experience a visual of God's daily bread. Or as a family friend said, "God loves to reveal Himself!" Some of the ways we received money was miraculous. Kevin needed $40 for the car. The next day, one of my textbooks on kijiji sold for $40 exactly. When we had given up on receiving the E.I. or even trying to open a new claim or appeal, we were contacted from a man relatively high up with Service Canada. Long story short, he gave us the step-by-step to reapply and two weeks later, we got our first deposit!

I could go on, as indeed I already have. The Holy Spirit has been reminding me everyday to write this blog entry, so I didn't want to leave out a detail. When God blesses you in such an amazing way, you need to share it! After Jesus freed a man from a "legion" of demons, He instructed him, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how He has had mercy on you.”

The Lord has had mercy on us and has blessed us ever so richly. I pray with confidence that He will do the same for you.