For years now, God speaks to me one word, or sometimes a few words, at a time. He made me to be a word-girl so I guess He knows how to get my attention. Like some people get a song stuck in their head, I get a word. Sometimes it’s been a word I’d never heard before! Lately, I blog about the words He gives me. That’s where each of these blogs start. A title, or a word gets stuck in my head so I pray about what He would have me say and then start typing.
This week He gave me the title of the blog without much explanation several days ago, but it was a rough week and I didn’t have the urging to write until now. I’ll explain.
Christian and I had a big fight this week. Yup. Sorry to bust the myth. The Kirkseys have fights. It was a doozy this time. I must explain that “doozy” to us means much different than the “doozies” I experienced growing up. Nothing gets broken, there are no naughty words at high volumes, NEVER would anything even come close to physical fighting, and in the end there is always resolution. A doozy for us means we dropped the ball, and let the sun go down on our anger. It didn’t get resolved within a couple hours like usual.
We do, however, have the perfect marriage–if there is such a thing. How can I possibly say that with two very, very imperfect people? Well, because this side of heaven, it’s as good as it’s gonna get.
In less than thirty days it will be our twentieth wedding anniversary, and I can honestly say I adore this guy and eagerly anticipate the next seventy or so years.
We do not do everything right, but we have learned a lot! We still hold hands, and can’t wait to spend time together, we pray for and with each other, and seek God on everything. Divorce is not an option, and never will be. Is this to our credit? Most definitely not. God is good, and if we see any good in what He’s done in our marriage, that’s all Him.
So, back to the big fight. I was right and he was wrong, and then he figured that out. The end.
I’m cracking myself up. And I’m just kidding. I learned some things from this one.
For years, when we are in the middle of a fight and I am at that stage when I’m reviewing all that’s been said and often feeling so sorry for my poor, wronged self, there is a moment when I have to set down my need to be right and truly ask God how He wants me to move forward, that includes, “Search me, O God. Try me and know my thoughts. See if there be any wicked way in me.” I guess that’s my white flag of surrender moment.
Turns out, my husband is doing the same thing! No wonder, we usually resolve it quickly!
This time we were both pretty stubborn and it all came down to misunderstandings and heels dug in.
You know what keeps a relationship–and not just a marriage–strong? It’s the little things. It’s being willing to listen, really listen with your heart; not just your ears. It’s wanting to meet someone else’s needs and care about their heartaches first. It’s being considerate, and maybe most of all compassionate. It’s a love note, a favorite meal, or a well-timed phone call. It’s a bouquet of lilacs or a back rub. Its saying, “You matter to me.”
Sometimes, it seems like marriage is set up to fail. There are so many roadblocks and pitfalls and land mines! When you hear the statistics and look around at those you know, how many marriages can you really look at and say they were successful at loving each other faithfully? Sadly, it is rare.
I heard a Navy Seal talking yesterday. He was talking about the training required for one to become a Navy Seal. Before day one of real training began, during the weeding out process, his group went from 170 down to 24. He said that the system is “set up to failure”. Each day they are broken down physically and mentally so that they get to a point where have to determine in their mind to keep going no matter how they feel.
Not that marriage is quite like being a Navy Seal, but the commitment is the same. The determination to be one of the few that remains needs to be the same.
I am deeply and profoundly moved by the devastation that has touched our country in the last few weeks from tornadoes and floods. This year has produced record numbers of tornadoes and fatalities from them. Not to mention the historic flooding occurring along the Mississippi River. It has been made more real to me since a piece of my heart currently resides in the heart of the storm areas. There is really nothing like the feeling of knowing that your child, grown, bearded man that he is, is in the path of an oncoming tornado, and all you can do is watch and listen from a thousand miles away.
In that moment, no one cares a bit about cars, homes, or possessions of any kind. In that moment, all one cares about is life itself; the protection of those you love.
However, when you see a picture of an area that’s been devastated, people are searching through the rubble for the little things. A memento, a photo, an heirloom. The focus is on the little things that matter most.
Today, I pray for a heart of compassion; for those who are hurting and for those in my very own home.
I know that the little things, be it a penny on a wall, or a loaf and a fish can become a mighty miracle in the hands of my God. Enough to sustain and feed a marriage, or a life.
*photo of Joplin, Missouri–courtesy of CNN–Getty images
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