Extra soft tortillas or extra-soft tortillas?

My husband and I have been together for over 18 years and married for 14. By this point we are pretty aware of each other’s distinct personality traits, including our basic communication differences. For example, my husband knows that speaking to me before 8 a.m. will result in a grunt and nod at best, and at worst could be dangerous for his health. And I know that if I wait until we are both in bed to try and discuss something important, I’m going to get a lot of “uh-huhs” and “I don’t knows” before I start to hear snoring.

Over the years we have learned a lot about how to communicate more effectively and gotten past many of the basic communication hurdles that plague men and women. He gets that I have a need to hash out every detail of a situation, and lets me do so. And I have learned to stop reading into everything he says (or doesn’t say) and just come right out and ask what I wish to know. Yet, there are  moments when our efforts to communicate clearly with each other actually backfires.

For example, last year we were preparing to have some family over for dinner and my husband offered to run to the grocery store if I made the list. I was planning to make chicken fajitas and my shopping list looked something like this:

Bell peppers

Onions

Sour Cream

Chicken

Fajita kit 

Yes, I use a boxed kit and it’s delicious. Don’t judge.

But as I started thinking about how our family of five easily goes through all of the soft tortillas that come with the standard kit, I thought it best to have some extras on hand since we were having two guests. So I added this to the list:

extra soft tortillas

I put the “extra” in there because knowing my husband, who will shop with a calculator in hand to make sure he is getting the best bargain, I had a feeling if I just put “soft tortillas” on the list he’d come home with nothing, declaring that there were already tortillas in the kit, so he didn’t need to buy them separately. Makes sense, right? I was just avoiding a potential miscommunication that would lead to a return trip to the grocery store (and when you live 20 minutes from the closest store you employ whatever means necessary to avoid a return trip).

50's housewife with list
Let’s see, if I put “extra soft tortillas” it should avoid any confusion.

That afternoon my husband came home from the store and I started to help him put away the groceries. Bell peppers – check! Chicken – check! Fajita kit- check! Extra tortillas – well, he bought burrito sized tortillas, not the smaller fajita sized ones, but that’s OK, at least we’d have enough.

As I was putting the tortillas away my husband came over and said, “I hope these are OK, the package says they are super soft.”

Me: “Huh?”

Hubby: “Well, I didn’t see any that said extra-soft on the package. These were the closest I could find. Is that OK?”

Me: (pausing a moment to process what he’s just said) Bwahahahaha……can’t breathe……..laughing…….so hard…….tears streaming……..down…….my face

Hubby: “What? I don’t get it?”

Me: “I meant extra soft tortillas,” giggle, snort, giggle, “not extra-soft tortillas!”

Once it sunk in what he’d done (or what I’d done, depending on how you look at the situation) we both laughed for a while.

Mission tortillas
Look honey, they say “super soft” on the package!

It’s a funny example of how sometimes over-communicating can be problematic. Unfortunately, in our house, this doesn’t always lead to a funny story. Oftentimes my “over-communicating” is perceived by my husband as nagging. Like when I ask him to call the phone company about an unusual charge on our bill. Then the next day I email him in the morning as reminder, and then I text him in the afternoon. When he gets home I ask him if he called the phone company and he says, “no, I didn’t have time, but I will do it tomorrow.”

By this point we are both completely frustrated. I’m frustrated because I’m thinking ‘I only reminded you three times! How could you not take care of this one little thing?’ And he’s thinking, ‘I told you I would take care of it, and I’ll take care of it. I can’t do everything you want me to, right when you want me to, so stop nagging!’ (or at least I assume the inner-dialogue in his head sounds something like that). And now something as simple as a phone call has built a small wall between us, and perhaps even set the tone for the entire evening.

What I could have should have said was “honey, I really need to pay the phone bill by Thursday, can you please be sure to call them and find out what this charge is before then? I can send you a reminder if you want.” And then just trust he will get it done, because most times he does, especially if I communicate exactly what I need, why, and when.

I know this is a better way to communicate, and it’s not all that difficult, really. But the truth is, even after 18 years, we still do this to each other. I do it because I’m distracted and don’t take the time to think about what I’m really asking. I do it because I’m caught up in the hurry-up-and-get-it-done of life.  I do it because old habits die hard.

In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians he wrote, “let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” (Ephesians 4:29). How much frustration would I relieve, how many hurt feelings would I avoid if I made sure my words ‘fit the occasion’ and ‘gave grace’ to my husband?

Don’t answer that; it was a rhetorical question. I know I’ve got some work to do here. But I have a feeling I’m in good company.

 

And next week I’ll be offering a free class for married couples called,  Extra soft tortillas vs. extra-soft tortillas: Why punctuation matters.

 

 

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Dear Michael W. Smith, I love you. That is all. Sincerely, your number one fan.

Whenever I meet someone new it doesn’t take long before they find out that I am a HUGE Michael W. Smith fan. I’m not sure how this always comes up so quickly in conversation. I mean, it’s not like I go around wearing an “I ♥ Michael W. Smith” t-shirt…well at least not every day! But my love for Smitty (yes, he is totally OK with me calling him that) is just one of those things that is core to who I am — like having brown eyes…or ten toes…or, you know, breathing. It is a deep-seated love that spans nearly 25 years. Don’t worry, my husband knows and he is OK with this. After-all, Michael was in my life before I met David.

Michael W. Smith

To truly understand how I earned my “number one fan” status, you have to know how it all began. When I was 13 my friend Mary gave me my very first Michael W. Smith cassette tape for Christmas (if you are under 25 ask your parents what a cassette tape is) . I remember opening that gift and thinking “umm, thanks? I have no idea who this is.” She assured me I would love him. Oh boy was she right! Years later I offered her my second and third born children as payment for introducing me to Smitty, but she decided to settle for being their godmother, instead.

That year I was 13 was a particularly difficult time in my adolescence. I had just moved in with my dad and step-mom, leaving behind all of my friends in another state, and a strained relationship with my mom. I was in a new home, new town, new school, and recovering from a traumatic experience that had happened earlier that year. It was a little more than your average 13-year-old-girl-angst. As I listened to that tape I felt like every song had been written just for me.

Every.

Single.

One.

How did this man from Kenova, WV know how I was feeling or what I was going through? I blasted that tape in my bedroom, memorizing every word. I listened to that tape until it broke!

Three years later I got to attend my first Michael W. Smith concert. I was excited in the same way the audience at the Ed Sullivan Show was excited to see the Beatles perform. And to top it off? They were taping the concert video right there in Fairfax, Virginia! Five months later, when the concert video came out, I found out I was actually on the video!! Ok so it was like for two seconds, and if you blink you miss me…but let me tell you, if the concert was the highlight of my year, being on that video was the highlight of the decade! I still have that video tape (again, if you are under 25 ask your parents what a video tape is) and I made EVERYONE watch it…even if they didn’t know who Michael W. Smith was. I even marked on the back cover where I could be found — right between “I Wanna Tell the World” and “Color Blind”, in case you’re dying to dig out your copy and find me.

Over the years my love for Smitty grew, and his music became the soundtrack to my life. When I was graduating high-school and saying goodbye, I listened to “Friends” over and over again. When I graduated college, I cried along to “Pray for Me” for months. When my husband and I got married, our first dance was to “Love of My Life.” When I was in the hospital in labor for 26 hours with my first born I had the Freedom album on continuous play. When she was a baby I sang the song “Anna” to my eldest daughter (changing it to Hannah). You get the point.

But the highlight of my long-time fandom came in 2008. The year before I found out that Michael W. Smith had a cruise. Back then this was a relatively new thing to be able to cruise with a favorite band or musician and I could not believe that this existed. As a joke I sent a link to the cruise website to several close family and friends with the subject line “Guess what I want for Christmas?” My friend Erin was prepared to start a fundraising campaign for me, complete with T-shirts that read: “Cruise tickets: $2,500. Airfare from Washington to Ft. Lauderdale: $300. Getting to see Jelise put suntan lotion on Michael W. Smith: priceless.” I still totally want one of these t-shirts.

It was an expensive trip and we had three young children; I had absolutely no expectations of going. So you can imagine my surprise when my mom and step-mom came together to buy two tickets to the cruise for my husband and I to go. It was my birthday and Christmas presents for the next five years, but I totally didn’t care because to me this was the trip of a lifetime. Finally, I would get to meet the man. I mean, how excited would he be to finally meet his number one fan?!

Me and Michael W. Smith
Michael W. Smith hangin’ with his number one fan.

But then, it got even better. I found out that in addition to all of the concerts, events, and exotic ports we’d get to experience there was something called Smitty-oke that would be played on the ship. This is where you get to go up on stage with Michael W. Smith and his band and sing one of his songs with him!!

OH!

MY!

WORD!

Can you even imagine? Ok so maybe the idea of singing with Michael W. Smith doesn’t excite you. But just think of your all-time favorite singer or band. Now, imagine getting to go up on stage and sing with them! Are you with me? Now, I am a terrible singer, and not particularly thrilled about sharing that in front of a room full of people, but I knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance and I had to do it. Here is the evidence:

Smitty-oke
Just me and Smitty, singing together. No biggie.

There were many other super-cool experiences from that trip. Like, there was this other artist on the cruise? Her name is Amy Grant. Perhaps you’ve heard of her? Also, Michael and his whole family were in a cabin four doors down from us, so we passed him in the hall daily;  I talked to his wife once on the elevator; I got to play a version of Family Feud against his mom and in-laws — you know your normal vacationing with a celebrity stuff.

The thing is, as much as I joke about my love for Smitty, what has made me a life-long fan is that his music continues to speak to me and touch my life. His most recent CD has a song on it called “You Won’t Let Go”. It’s a great phenomenal song, and the bridge of the song goes like this: “neither height, neither depth, highest height or deepest depth, nothing can, nothing can separate.” When I first heard this song I had just made the decision to start building this blog and call it Neither Height Nor Depth, from my all-time favorite Bible verse. I had started to write posts but not yet published anything. I wasn’t sure I was up to it, quite frankly. I doubted if I had what it takes to write new content each week, or that anyone would be interested in reading what I had to say. But when I heard that song, it suddenly became my anthem. Not unlike that 13 year-old-girl who felt so lost and alone until she heard the words: “If there are millions down on their knees, among the many can you still hear me? Hear me asking where do I belong?” And she suddenly felt like everything was going to be OK.

While not everyone may share my undying love and devotion for Michael W. Smith (poor, poor, misguided souls), I bet many of you can identify with this post because music is one of those rare, universal elements that spans generations and cultures. Whether your favorite artist is Lady GaGa or Lady Antebellum,  B.B. King or Carole King — whoever it is, if you have been touched by their music I know you can relate. If you have ever cried into your pillow while one of their songs played over and over again, or driven your car, windows down, singing along at the top of your lungs, you know what I’m talking about.

And admit it…you’re just a little bit jealous you haven’t gotten to sing on stage with them, aren’t you? 🙂

Who is your Smitty? I’d love to hear how music has touched your life.

 

“I will sing to the LORD all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live.” Psalm 104:33

Why it hurts whenever I hear the words “if my husband ever cheated on me, I would leave him”

[Author’s note: I am incredibly grateful to my husband for encouraging me to write about and share this very personal part of our story. He believes, as do I, that God has called us to use our past to encourage and give hope to others. For his selflessness and bravery, I love him all the more.]

Friends in cafe
Copyright: peus / 123RF Stock Photo

There we are, sitting at a table in a busy restaurant, enjoying a “mom’s night out”. The talk at the table turns to a friend of a friend who is going through a painful divorce. Her husband had an affair and she is, of course, devastated and trying to pick up the pieces of her life. And then it’s said. That one sentence that I know is coming. “My husband knows if he ever cheated on me it would be over!”

Around the table heads nod in agreement and friends chime in with their unanimous support of this statement. And I shift in my chair uncomfortably. I pretend to study the menu a little more closely. I sip my drink until there’s just ice. Anything to avoid eye contact or weighing in on this conversation.

I know my friends have no idea how hard it is for me to hear this statement. How much it hurts. I know because ten years ago I could be found sitting around a table of girlfriends saying the same thing.

But that was before.

Before I knew what it was really like to be faced with that reality.

Growing up I saw the devastating effects of infidelity in my parent’s marriages. As a child I felt the repercussions. I also saw and lived through the life-altering effects of divorce, and at times grasped for a life-ring in the wake of the pain and destruction it left. From my child’s eyes it was so simple. I would never, ever get divorced, I vowed. That is…unless…he cheated on me. I mean, after-all the Bible gives us an out on this. As Christians we can say this in mixed company and no one will judge us. Everyone will agree.

But then.

Then your life, your marriage, doesn’t always go the way you plan. Hell, does anything go the way we plan?

We had been married for 5 years when I found out that my husband had been unfaithful. It was the most devastating experience I could never have fathomed. The air was sucked out of me and I was living a bad dream, just waiting to wake up. While it was a one-time occurrence, I found out that it had been triggered by a spiraling addiction to pornography that my husband had managed to keep hidden from me for the 9 years we’d been together. An addiction he’d struggled with since he was a boy. As with any addiction, it escalated, sending him down a dark rabbit hole and dragging him deeper and deeper until it was completely out-of-control. The shame, guilt, and fear he lived with everyday…well I can only try to imagine.

When the truth came out I was in a state of shock for weeks. I didn’t know what to do, what to say, or where to turn. But I knew two things. 1. My life would never be the same, and 2. I didn’t want to pack my bags and leave like I had always thought I would if faced with this news.

I saw before me a broken, hurting man. The man I loved so dearly. Yes, I was angry. Yes, I wanted to scream and yell and hit him, and sometimes I did those things. But mostly I wanted to love him.

Once he confessed it all, he immediately offered to go seek the help he knew he needed. We both went to counseling, separately. Him to face his addiction, and me to deal with this new reality.

I told only two people in my life what had happened.

I prayed. A lot.

I went through days where everything seemed fine and normal, and days when I just cried for hours, barely able to get out of bed. I questioned him over and over again. What else had he done? Who else had he been with? What wasn’t he telling me? All trust was out the window and gone and I was scared. So, so scared that it would never be there again.

I won’t sugar coat it. It was hard. We went through some excruciatingly dark periods. For a while I had the number of a divorce attorney in my Rolodex at work, and many days I thought, ‘today is the day I will call’.

It took the better part of two years of counseling to get through the worst of it. And at least another two years before I really started to believe we were going to make it.

I recall one night lying in bed after an argument with my husband, crying and pleading with God. “How will we ever get through this? Will I ever truly be able to forgive and trust him again?” And I remember so clearly, as if He was in the room with me, God whispered in my ear and said “If I can forgive him and love him, so can you. If I can forgive you of all the wrongs you’ve done, how can you not also forgive him?”

I didn’t wake up the next day and find everything had magically fallen into place. But, after that moment I was able to see my husband as a beloved, hurting child of God who was worthy of forgiveness. And over time I was able to forgive him — really, truly forgive and let go — and eventually trust him again.

It’s been 9 years since I found out about my husband’s affair. I tell you the truth when I say I love and respect this man more today than I did the day I married him. He spent over four years in counseling working through his addiction, his past and all of the hurt and pain it had caused in his life. I am amazed at his fortitude and all he’s overcome.

Our marriage is far from perfect. We argue, and get on each other’s nerves, and sometimes…every once in a while…when we’re not communicating as often as we need to I still feel a little bit of the old worry and doubt creep in. But over the years this happens less and less; maybe one day it won’t happen at all. Or maybe it will always be there on some small scale as a reminder of where we’ve been and just how far we’ve come. I don’t know.

What I do know is that this does not define us. My husband’s addiction and sin does not define him as a man or a husband. Being the wife who was cheated on is not my label. Being the couple who survived infidelity is not who we are. We are so much more than this. We are sinful, broken children of God who are doing our best to live the life He called us to lead. To be the husband and wife He knows we can be. The parents He has blessed us to be.

Please, please know that this is our story only. I share this not as a model for what I think all couples who are facing infidelity must do. I cast absolutely no judgement on anyone who has walked away from a marriage broken and hurting. Everyone’s circumstances are different.

I write this and share it with all of you because I want you to know there is hope. If your marriage has been broken, if you are facing an addiction, living with shame — there is hope. You must want it, and you must work for it and, above all, you must be patient and trust the Lord to heal you and your relationship, but it can be done. Whether the relationship survives or it doesn’t, the Lord will mend your heart if you let Him.

Just promise me…next time you’re sitting with a group of friends talking about marriages and infidelity, try to remember that until you’ve been there and walked that broken road, you don’t really know what you will choose. And, God forbid, if you ever do find yourself in that situation, know that there is no shame and no weakness in choosing to stay.

What is your Goliath?

I wrote earlier this week about how my Sunday morning didn’t get off to a good start. Thankfully, with some Godly intervention, I was in a much better frame of mind once worship service started. A good thing for me because it was one of the best sermons I’ve ever heard. We’ve been studying 1st and 2nd Samuel this summer at GCC North, and most recently the story of David. This Sunday the focus was on 1 Samuel 17 which chronicles the well-told story of David and Goliath.

David and Goliath is probably one of the best-known stories in the Bible. It’s the original under-dog story, and Hollywood should thank Samuel for providing the plot line for 50% of all movies ever made. But honestly? I’ve never really found it all that applicable to my life. I mean, it’s a great example of putting your trust in the Lord, but I’ve just never been able to relate to the young shepherd boy who defeated the giant warrior with nothing but a slingshot and a prayer. This Sunday, though, my friend and Pastor, Lee Reams, managed to give us a fresh view of David and Goliath as well as some practical application.

Lee set the tone for the sermon by presenting David and Goliath…MLB style! Check out these awesome trading cards he made for our antagonist and hero:

goliath_front goliath_back
david_front david_back

On paper, David might seem an unlikely foe for the colossal warrior. But David never had any doubt he could beat Goliath. His faith was so strong, and his trust in the Lord so steadfast that he almost seemed matter-of-fact about the whole situation when speaking to King Saul. Lee broke it down into five things (a metaphor for the five smooth stones David picks up before going to the front-line) that equipped David to feel this way. They were: Perspective, Experience, Identity, Knowledge, and Child-like Faith.

Perspective – “David asked the soldiers standing nearby, “What will a man get for killing this Philistine and ending his defiance of Israel? Who is this pagan Philistine anyway, that he is allowed to defy the armies of the living God?” (1 Samuel 17:26). David’s faith in God allowed him to be able to look at Goliath with a different perspective. He saw him simply as a mortal man defying an all-powerful God.

Experience – “I have been taking care of my father’s sheep and goats,” he said. “When a lion or a bear comes to steal a lamb from the flock, I go after it with a club and rescue the lamb from its mouth. If the animal turns on me, I catch it by the jaw and club it to death” (1 Samuel 17:34-35). David’s experience as a shepherd gave him strength and confidence to battle Goliath.

Identity – “He picked up five smooth stones from a stream and put them into his shepherd’s bag. Then, armed only with his shepherd’s staff and sling, he started across the valley to fight the Philistine” (1 Samuel 17:40). David rejected the armor Saul offered him. He knew he was a shepherd, not a soldier, and relied on the tools of his trade.

Knowledge – “And everyone assembled here will know that the Lord rescues his people, but not with sword and spear. This is the Lord’s battle, and he will give you to us!” (1 Samuel 17:47). David knew that God was in charge of the situation and would protect him.

Child-like Faith – “As Goliath moved closer to attack, David quickly ran out to meet him” (1 Samuel 17:48). David didn’t hesitate, or weigh the pro’s and con’s of fighting Goliath, or try to plan out a detailed strategy. He just ran straight to the battle-line with complete faith that God was in control.

While all of the above are valuable tools that God has equipped us with, the one that stands out the most for me is perspective. How often in my life have I experienced challenges, struggles, hurt, or conflict that could have been avoided if I had simply altered my perspective of the situation?

Then Lee asked us to think about what “Goliath(s)” we were facing in our lives. What are those things that we feel are too big, too unbeatable? It could be an illness, a broken relationship, an addiction — anything really. I wrote down four: stress, lack of patience, the future, and my health. What startled me about my list is that it’s all me. My adversaries are all internal and they are things that (with God’s help) I can change or overcome. Do you know what that means? I am my own Goliath! And for at least the first three of my items, a little perspective could have a HUGE impact. So to help me maintain that perspective, I decided to create my own trading cards and keep them in my Bible as a little reminder. Here they are:

Jelise's trading card
Scary Jelise trading card

Stressed and impatient Jelise is not a pretty sight, huh? She’s my Goliath…looming large and scary, seemingly undefeatable. But the reality is that God has equipped me with all of the tools I need to beat her.

What is your Goliath? How can a little perspective, knowledge, experience, identity, or child-like faith help you to defeat your biggest, scariest struggles?

 

[A very big thanks to Lee Reams for allowing me to steal his sermon and use his trading card images for my blog!]

Be still and let go of these things

This past Sunday my morning started like many Sunday mornings do for me. The alarm went off and I hit snooze because I was exhausted from the previous day’s activities. After sleeping a good 30 minutes later than I should have, I finally woke up and went to check on the kids. They were leaving right after church to spend a few days with my mom, so they had been given explicit instructions the night before that upon waking they were to start packing for their trip and once that was completed to start cleaning their rooms. Of course, none of this had happened. I was bombarded by whines and complaints the moment I opened my bedroom door. My eldest was completely outraged that her brother had just woken her up by bursting in her room and yelling “time to get up and pack!” My son  was running around in circles yelling “I have no clean clothes!” And my youngest daughter who, to her credit, had at least attempted to pack, showed me her packed bag which consisted of 5 shirts, one pair of leggings and a dirty pair of shorts. We had 50 minutes until we had to leave for church.

snooze button
Image source: Shenandoah Country Q102

In fairness to my kids, they had all gotten to bed late the night before because we’d been helping the school they attend pack and move equipment and only finished about 9:30 p.m. with the last load. And because I had spent my entire Saturday helping to move the school and running my kids to a birthday party, I had neglected to do any laundry. But at this point, all I could think was how I needed to be at church early today because it was my job to set-up for communion and if everyone didn’t hurry up and get their act in gear I would never get three kids dressed, fed, packed, and teeth brushed, let alone shower and dress myself in 50, no wait only 45 minutes now! I should mention at this point that my husband had already left for church because he’s in the praise band and has to be there 2-hours before service, so I was on my own with this one. The next hour was a blur of over-cooked frozen waffles, yelling “did you brush your teeth” 500 times, putting hair into ponytails, time-0uts, and pulling clothes out of the hamper that looked “clean enough” to be sent with them to Nana’s house (every mom out there knows, if it passes the sniff test and has no visible stains, it’s perfectly acceptable to dress your kids in dirty clothes).

We loaded into the car 10 minutes later than I wanted to and I felt every bit of tension and frustration that had built up that morning. I started to list in my head all the reasons I was stretched too thin and something had to give. I started to resent the school and my church for the time they were taking (for things I volunteered to do, mind you) and for turning me into crazy, grumpy mom. By the time we pulled into the parking lot I had reached the point where one side-ways glance from someone would have sent me into a full-blown emotional meltdown. Thank God I go to church with the most amazing people and when I walked in I was greeted only with smiles and hellos. No one commented on my being late, and in fact, as if they could sense my stress, two other friends said they’d been having a difficult morning.

Lake Holiday
The lake in our community where we live and worship.

Those of us on the worship team typically gather to go through the service plan and pray about 30 minutes before service starts. Usually we meet in a small boardroom, but this day our Pastor had us follow him outside. I live in a community that has a 240 acre lake nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains and we are blessed to be able to hold church service in the community club house which is situated right on the lake. So we walked down to the fishing pier and our Pastor told us he had called us outside so we could take a few moments to just be at peace and let go of whatever we were carrying that morning and have a moment with God. I stared into the clear ripples of the lake and felt the frustration of the morning come flooding back. My eyes welled-up as I was hit with guilty feelings. Guilt for having yelled at my kids, guilt for hitting the snooze button when I knew better, and guilt for feeling resentful of my commitments to serve the school and church when I knew I had asked to do those things. As the hot tears slid down my cheeks I heard God gently say to me “be still.” Two little words, but they washed over me completely. Then I heard it again “be still, my child. Let go of these things and just be in My presence.” I felt such an immediate rush of relief and release at that moment, and I almost laughed out loud because it was such a simple statement, but just the exact thing I needed to hear.

I realized how bringing all of my negative “stuff” in the door was a distraction and could have kept me from fully receiving the day’s message and feeling the presence of the Holy Spirit. And I wondered, how many Sunday mornings have I entered the doors like this? (too many) And how often was the enemy using these every-day stresses to get in the way and prevent me from just being still and being with God? (more than I realize, I’m sure)

That night I happened to see a blog post from Christian author Jon Acuff that humorously addressed the fact that right before church was the moment of the week he and his wife were most likely to get into a fight. As I read his blog post and then read through the comments I realized that I’m in good company and Sunday morning conflict and stress is a pretty common occurrence. Well, duh! Of course the enemy is going to try and get in our way and do whatever he can to muddle our hearts, cloud our perspective, and maybe even prevent us from going to worship.

Ephesians 6:12 says: “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” But, as my Pastor reminded us during the sermon that day, God has already given us all the tools we need to fight and defeat the enemy; and I believe forewarned is forearmed. There are things we can do to impede spiritual warfare, or at least lessen the impact. For me, I know my number one issue is time. By cutting my time too short I’m giving the enemy more ammunition to use against me. I realize I must start getting up earlier on Sundays so I can ease into the day and allow time for all of the things that might go wrong. Then, maybe, just maybe I can walk through those doors and leave it all behind. I can come in and “be still” and be truly present.

What about you? Do you find yourself consistently stressed, frustrated, angry or in conflict on Sunday mornings? What is one area you can change and give the enemy less ammunition? I would love to hear your thoughts.

 

Romans 8:38-39