Choices and Priorities

Today I was faced with a difficult choice. One I struggled not to second guess myself on more than once. While at church I was reminded of a graduation party this afternoon for a young man from church and was asked if I planned to come. I had completely forgotten the party was today, and while I knew I would enjoy additional fellowship if I went, I was not willing to make a quick decision without thinking through how it might effect my husband, who was at home sleeping after a night shift.

When I said I was not sure I could come because I needed to pack my husband's lunch (the first thing that came to mind), I was encouraged to go home, pack it quickly and then come on to the party. I left not fully committing one way or the other, but continuing to think through the wisdom of going or not going.

Part of me really wanted to go, because the idea of spending an afternoon with friends sounded both fun and relaxing. Besides I guessed that if I did not show up at least one person would wonder why I was not there, and likely would come to a wrong conclusion when I did not show up. Perhaps she would think that I was being unsociable, overly concerned about my husband, or some other scenario I had not even thought of, but most likely that person would not guess the whole truth. Yet, on the other hand, I was not sure I should go because in the last two days I had spent a maximum of three waking hours with my husband (and about an equal amount of sleeping hours...yes I count those as special too!). Those waking hours included his stages of waking up (where he does not say or hear much), sitting with him as he ate hurried breakfasts before heading out the door to work, and praying with him one morning before he crashed into bed after an especially challenging night at work. Not exactly quality time, but still time important to us in staying connected as a couple.

I decided that not seeing him awake at all today (unless you count when I peaked at him as he crawled into bed this morning before I rolled over and went back to sleep) did not sound appealing to me, or healthy for our relationship. Besides, I knew he had set his alarm so he could get the most sleep possible (he got to bed late because he unloaded and hooked up my new stove, sweet husband) and would be counting on me to get his breakfast while he showered and shaved so that he could still have a filling breakfast and get out the door on time. In other words, he sacrificed sleep to make sure I had a working stove, so the least I could do was make sure he had a substantial breakfast before he headed off for another busy night at work. Right?

Yet, even with those reasons in mind, I still wavered a bit about what I should do because I have had to pass up on several things this night shift so that I could not only spend time with my husband, but also show him love by fixing his breakfasts in the evenings and packing his lunches for work. I did not feel bad about saying no for my sake because I love spending time with my husband and spending time finding ways to show him how much I love him. No, I felt bad because I knew that people often do not understand why I say no to different events and are apt to misjudge me and my husband for the choices we make that may seem selfish or foolish from their outside, partial perspective.

In the end however, the joy of waking my husband up with a back rub when he did not hear his alarm at first and seeing his smile when I gave him his good morning kiss, and another smile as I set his breakfast before him, and another as he kissed me goodbye and headed out the door encouraged for another shift of duty made me know that I had made the right choice. No matter what anyone else thought. I was where I was supposed to be, by my husbands side supporting him all the way.

The moral of my tale. One, do not make assumptions until you know the facts. Law Enforcement life and night shifts are no joke and require sacrifices and creative living to keep family relationships strong and thriving. Two, think about your own priorities and make choices that are best for your family, no matter what others on the outside might think. In the end you will be glad you did. :)

~ Gracie

Laughing Midst the Weeds

I sleepily rolled over and opened my eyes to the unexpected sound of laughter. I had seen my husband off to work a couple of hours before and had laid back down for a few more winks, as I was feeling unusually tired, so I knew the laughter was not coming from inside the house, but I did not know who it could be, so I curiously peeped under a curtain to see.

Outside I spotted several ladies with hoes in hand talking and laughing as they busily weeded the surrounding yard. I recognized them as the ladies our landlord had hired to do landscaping. As I turned away, my curiosity appeased, I paused a moment. How often do I laugh while I am out hoeing weeds? Either literal or figurative ones?

When we encounter spiritual weeds (sin) in our lives, do we find pleasure in the hoeing out process? I know from experience that I often do not submit to this weeding without some measure of discomfort to say the least, and when I feel twinges of pain I am not in the habit of laughing. Not to mention that hoeing can be back breaking, arm wearing work which leaves me tempted to complain. No, rejoicing at removing weeds is hardly my natural response.

Yet, here in these ladies I saw an example of what I should be. Of how I should rejoice when God reveals the weeds in my heart and prods me to remove them. How the twinges of pain should be reason for a triumphant smile as it signifies His work in me and the removal of that which is unholy in the process of making me more like Him.

Moving Monday

You guessed it, we are moving (or will be moved by the time you see this post). Thankfully we are moving within the same community and not halfway across the country, but still, moving is moving. It requires planning, packing, and cleaning...among other things like ENERGY.

We have known we would be moving for a few months, and known where for about a month, and have only been able to begin the process in earnest within the last few days. God has blessed us with the opportunity to not live in an apartment this time, which we are grateful for. However, the place we are moving to has been empty for a few years and much dust and many cobwebs had made their home there. That meant we had much cleaning to do. All of the walls needed to be wiped down, the windows washed, and the kitchen and bathroom thoroughly scrubbed.

Now, I am not afraid of a little dirt and a little hard work, please do not get me wrong. But, you see, that was not the whole of it. If you or your spouse are a Law Enforcement Officer than you probably know all about consecutive days of long shifts. If you are not in law enforcement, think of three twelve hour days plus time to commute. So, you see, not only was there cleaning to do, but there was also packing, keeping up with food and laundry, a moving deadline looming overhead, and all of this must be accomplished without my husband. Oh, and did you noticed the big, bold "energy" in the first paragraph? I have been lacking in that due to being pregnant. Are you beginning to get the picture?

As moving day loomed closer and closer I had many moments of near despair, but my sweet husband, continued to remind me that God would be our strength and stay. That I must continue to put my trust in Him, especially when I felt I had nothing left to give. In my tired, more emotional moments I struggled to cling to this truth, but He showed Himself faithful time and again. He sent family to help. Family who joyously dropped their own responsibilities for a whole afternoon to clean, and another day to help with the packing, and a third to help with the move.

Yes, there are challenges to the Law Enforcement life. There are many times that I must face big changes and challenges without my husband directly by my side. Yes, it is hard and stretches me to the point of breaking. It is a sacrifice, but it is one that I am willing to make. Why? Because one, God has called George to Law Enforcement, two, He has called me to be George's helper, and three, my husband is helping make life a little safer for the masses.

On the hard days, on the alone days, that is when I realize yet again what a wonderful God we serve. Without His sustaining power, His gifts of mercy and grace (like family), and His faithfulness I could not be who I am called to be, the wife of a Law Enforcement Officer. Whatever challenges you may be facing today, I pray that you may also find your sustenance in Him!

~ Gracie

There Are Fly Guts on the Chair

Written November 9, 2015

Though this post is older than the blog, I still wanted to share it with you all because
God used a fly splatter in a very unique way to help me reflect on what loving really
should look like in the middle of the chaos of life. 

There are times when small, seemingly insignificant things make you stop and think. Tonight it was, of all things, fly guts on a chair. As winter hangs in the offings, flies have become more pesky as they seem to know their time is limited and they are determined to have one last hurrah before cold weather flies (no pun intended). As I attempted to clear the house of these overly friendly insects, I might have gotten a little too zealous and thus the bug juices on the back of one of our dinning room chairs. As I wiped away the remains, I stopped for a moment and I knew that I would write.

What was it about the messy smear that caught my attention? Perhaps it was that here was yet another mess to clean up. You see, only weeks into married life can mean a less than tidy habitation. Boxes, packing materials, items in strange places, and daily treasure hunts. Are you getting the idea? Yes, as much as I do not want to admit it, our new home is in shambles. Still. My sweet husband tells me to be patient, but my internal organizer is screaming daily due to the disorder all around. I want to take control of the mess, clean it up and have everything put in it's own place. I want things to be neat and welcoming, and since they are not, I am struggling with feelings of failure and guilt in my new role as wife and housekeeper. 

The other day I broke down in tears and shared with my husband how hard it was to know what needed to be done but to not have the time and/or energy to get it all done. I shared how I was struggling with doubt at my abilities to be a good wife. He hugged me close and begin to whisper assurances that I was a good wife, that I was doing well in my new role, and that I needed to be patient with myself in this new season full of new things to learn and new responsibilities to manage. He encouraged me to keep seeking the Lord above all else and trust Him to teach me in my new role and then my sweetheart prayed such a sweet prayer for me. I went to bed with a lighter heart praying that I could keep my eyes firmly on the Lord the next day. 

Enter today and the fly guts on the chair. We are on nights right now, and while my husband was sleeping I was working hard to prepare food for the next several busy days/nights. After the cooking was finished, I had other various cleaning chores on my list of things to accomplish as well as a quick run to town to do some errands. I looked at the clock as I hurried out the door. It was already nearly three. When I arrived back home it was after three and I knew my husband would be up in a few short hours to get ready for work and I had not even gotten his lunch packed. 

I looked at the remaining tasks on my to-do list and then at the mountain of dishes piled in the sink. How would I get everything done? In the midst of feeling just a wee bit overwhelmed, my phone vibrated. I picked it up to see a text from my husband saying that he had been struggling to sleep the last several hours. I looked around at all the mess again, and then made a decision that was, quite frankly, hard in some ways. I went and crawled in bed next to my husband and snuggled down for a nap. 

You see, even while I was struggling to rejoice in the midst of the chaos and mess, I realized in that moment that being a good wife was more than keeping a "perfect" house, or having gourmet meals everyday. Being a good wife more importantly meant following that greatest command to love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, strength and mind, and to love my neighbor/others as myself (Luke 10:27). While that did not diminish the importance of my other responsibilities, it reminded me of a couple of truths. One, I needed to keep God first for it is only in Him that we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28). Second, I needed to remember that my identity is not in how I performed my tasks and duties as a housekeeper. It is in Jesus Christ my Lord. And lastly, I needed to remember that people and relationships are more important than a perfectly kept house and flawless meals. Being a good wife, or sister, or friend, for that matter, often means letting go of our ideas of perfection and loving others through momentarily dying to our goals and ambitions. Not because our goals and ambitions are bad, but because truly loving and caring for others cannot be done on a schedule. 

Did I get the to-dos done? The mountain of dishes washed? Yes, I did. Not in my timing...but I pray in His. May I ever become more sensitive to His leading, to dying to self, and to spontaneously loving those whom He puts in my path and meeting their needs in such a way as to reflect His love into their lives and all with the greatest of joy!

Chocolate In My Oatmeal, The Small Joys In Life

This morning started out like so many others to the sound of my husband's alarm going off in the wee, dark hours of the morning. My body complained that it was too early to get up yet, but I coxed myself out of bed with a prayer for eyes to see joy on my lips. To see joy in the fact that I am married to my best friend, joy that he is alive and well, joy for the provision of his job and hard work ethic, joy in sharing in this journey, and joy in loving him by getting up with him to start his day...no matter how weary I am.

For years I prayed for God's provision of a godly husband. For years I waited and ached and nearly despaired. Then, when I least expected it, He brought George into my life. On early mornings it would be easy to forget the blessing that he is. It would be easy to loose sight of the joy in being his wife. That is why I pray so often for eyes to see the small joys in life, like chocolate in my bowl of oatmeal.

What is so joyous about chocolate in my bowl of oatmeal? The simple fact that seeing the dark delicious swirls there is a rare treat, a reminder of my childhood, a sign of God's provision for not just needs, but wants as well.

Everyday we are faced with opportunities where we can choose to see things as burdens or as blessings, or where we can choose to be so busy that we just do not see at all. Today instead of just surviving, will you join me in stopping to praise God for the small joys in life? For the chocolate in your oatmeal?