We went to the Chris Tomlin Concert on Saturday night. Kari Jobe opened for him. It was incredible. The night before that I had the opportunity to bring moms and daughters into deep discussions about "Mean Girls," and how to bring Jesus into the girl fight.
Let's just say that I have been spinning my wheels all weekend looking for time to write something meaningful and moving and reflective.
After a difficult "mommy morning," filled with bucket-size loads of self-pity brought on by fit-throwing toddlers and grocery carts that have wheels that lock before you can get to your car, (AHHHH...still not over that one!), I sat down to write. Before I wrote a word I read a story posted by Ann Voskamp on A Holy Experience.
I cried. The kids are napping and I am crying. This happens more than I would like to admit but I'm relieved to say that it's not about me and my morning this time. I am crying because I can not help but rejoice with stories of brokenness and pain that give glimpses of His glory, His never-ending love and pursuit of us.
You have to read this.
During the concert on Saturday night we sat behind a couple. I thought they were just dating because of how affectionate they were with each other. Why do we married people forget to kiss each other so easily? We should kiss more.
Anyway, at one point Louie Giglio gave everyone, the 14,000 people there, an opportunity to meet Jesus. To know Him. To invite Him into their lives. To wreck them. To love them. This man in front of me did that. I cheated and opened my eyes. I saw his hand in the air. I began to pray for him.
As the concert went on I couldn't help but think about their story...their love story. I watched as they sang along with eyes-brimming and flowing with the wetness of joy. I caught sight the tear-stained cheek of the wife. I realized they were married after searching their left ring fingers for a sign. I wondered how long she had prayed for him. I wondered what they would say to each other on the drive home. I prayed for a fire to be ignited in both of them. I prayed they would do God's work better together than apart.
Then I remembered that's what Kevin said. Kevin was our youth pastor. He performed our ceremony. He said to us, what God brings together let no man separate. He told us that we were better together than apart.
I believed him. I still do.
I read that story today and cried. I thanked God for the partner He gave me...to do life with...to love...to kiss...to sing with...to do God's work with...whatever and "wherever" that may be.
There are days when I don't appreciate him. There are days when I am mad and therefore, passive aggressive, toward him...I'm working on that. There are even days when I think I am better than him...and oh, how humbling to say that out loud, let alone admit it to the world. But, then God does what He does. He reveals the truth.
We are two people in a broken and fallen world being shaped and molded daily into the man and woman God destined us to be. Some days we yield to the Potter and other days we are stubborn in our own ways. Regardless, the truth is that we are being made new...the process is perfect because He is bringing us through it.
The Man who keeps falling in love with his wife sees her new every time he sees her. What if I lived this? What if when my husband walked through that door I looked for the new that God did that day instead of begging him with my body language and sighs to notice how hard my day was.
I bet we'd kiss more.
Married, dating, single...we are living a love story. The good ones are full of pain and heartache and heroes. The truth is that we are all being pursued by the Hero. His love for us is the only reason we can love one another. He sees us new and remade...the very best version of ourselves...because of what He did for us.