I’ve been quite open about my own marriage on this blog. Josh and I come from two different spiritual backgrounds that made my road to understanding Scripture much easier than it was for him. I also have a four-year religion degree, when he spent his own college years studying engineering. I’m a reader; he’s learning to be. All of this stacks up to mean two very different ways of seeking God through the Word.
How do you know when God is telling you to do something? What does the Spirit’s voice sound like? We aren’t Samuel and aren’t hearing an audible voice from heaven (and honestly? Not many people in the Bible even got to experience this!). The Lord still speaks to us through His Spirit – Jesus says this three times in John 16:13:
What does it mean for a man to be “head of the home”? Where does that even come from? Headship of husbands is a controversial issue. Headship is hotly debated in church and culture, often misunderstood, misinterpreted, and abused. But could headship be very different than what we’ve seen described thus far?
I’m reading the bible chronologically this year. Every morning finds my clunky, awkward journaling bible propped halfway between an armchair and an endtable, coffee spilling with each elbow bump as I turn pages with one hand and hold my nursing baby with the other. Sometimes my eyes are so heavy I can’t remember which part of the Tabernacle I was reading about two minutes before. Sometimes I re-read a passage three times as my two-year-old interrupts with tears or toys.
http://phyliciamasonheimer.com/what-i-learned-from-my-parents-marriage-guest-post/
The other night I made a magnificent replica of Olive Garden’s chicken and gnocchi soup. It had a whole stick of butter and two cups of milk and it was Italian perfection.
The problem: it made enough for six people, and Mr. M and I are only two.
I put the pot in the fridge and for the next week chicken and gnocchi stew was our primary lunch option. By the third day, I was really over it.
We were still in the midst of the gnocchi siege when my parents called, saying they would swing by on a Tuesday night – boosting our dinner number from the usual two to seven people. I raced to Kroger on my lunch to buy a fat-laced chuck roast, heirloom carrots and fingerling potatoes. Then I floored it home to get the meal in the crock pot before heading back to work.
The roast turned out perfectly for our company – walking in the door I could smell the herbs I’d rubbed into the meat, the smell of the beef broth and the vegetables, and pretty soon the green beans and rolls began to waft their scents into the air. I set the table carefully with my Blue Willow china and cleaned the kitchen. It’s not every day you have company from 16 hours away!
I put the gnocchi soup on the stovetop as a back up in case people were still hungry… but never served it. After all… it’s leftovers.
So when I failed – whether in word, thought, or action – I would go through days of spiritual turmoil attempting to figure out whether God would forgive me, if I had jeopardized my salvation, and if I was worthy to even call myself a Christian. Sometimes I wondered if I was even a Christian at all. Whatever the sin, I saw my repeated failure as mounting evidence that I very obviously did not love Jesus, and because of that, Jesus must not love me.
In my early teens, my bookshelf included such titles as:
Before You Meet Prince Charming by Sarah Mally
Becoming a Young Woman After God’s Own Heart by Elizabeth George
Beautiful Girlhood
When Dreams Come True by Eric and Leslie Ludy
Why I Kissed Dating Goodbye by Josh Harris
I liked to read about relationships (in that sense, nothing has changed; I’ve just developed a more grown-up taste of biographies of famous married couples) and read all the above titles, plus more. I grew up at the height of the purity movement: a church-led initiative encouraging commitments to abstinence, intentional relationships, courtship and purity rings. My dad gave me my ring at age 13, and most of my friends had one, too. I thought I had relationships figured out.
And then I got into a relationship, and I discovered that not only did I not have it figured out, but there were capabilities within me directly contrary to all I had ever learned…