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Being A Good Wife

I’m not a perfect wife.  I’m not even close to being minutely perfect.

I don’t consciously pray for my husband every day.  I fight hormones that cause my boiling point to be 27.2°.   I sometimes don’t provide home cooked meals and cereal & frozen waffles & fried egg sandwiches become staples in the Landis household on those nights.

Laundry often is kept in the dryer, or the laundry basket down stairs.  I don’t keep a nice clean house.  And I’m very often, very selfish with my me time.

I may not be a perfect wife, but I love my husband with abandon.

Yesterday, Tam shared a post on what she feels she’s good at.  She turned it back on her readers and asked them what they were good at.

To be honest, I’m not sure I’m even a good wife.  This is a struggle of mine.  Even if you take out the proverbial perfect Proverbs 31 woman and the enemy’s lies that this is our standard, I still long to be the best wife I can be.  I very often feel that I don’t even come close to measuring up.

But I believe the question that needs to be posed is, what is a good wife?

A good wife not by society’s standards or the mother-in-law’s or even our own.

I have a feeling that even were we to meet all these expectations, we could still fail.  And we would most certainly feel like we’ve failed.

I think our standard in everything needs to be Christ.  But we need to realize that with Christ at our standard, we will fail.  Yet, just like our pursuit to be like Christ in our lives in general, we pursue being the a spouse the way Christ is a husband to us.

Both are a long, hard road of sanctification and learning.

We must clothe ourselves and our marriages with grace.  I feel there will be less pressure when we stop trying to live up to everyone’s expectations and live solely for God’s.  In the end, His opinion is the only one that really does matter.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Being

I partially feel that I’m experiencing Christmas in a new way this year.

In the light of grace.

Though I have worked my self into a tizzy over wrapping gifts in a fancy, creative way & getting the gift for my sister-in-law that I know she’ll love & the book for my nephew that I imagine him belly laughing at as his mom reads it to him.

I’ve had little time in the last week (plus) to just sit.  To just be.  I’m reminded of this post by my dear friend Mandie.

If I allow all the hustle and the dry fingers from wrapping paper and the cookie dough that I forgot to put baking soda in — if I allow all of this to take my focus, I’m going to miss out.

Not only on the blessed celebration we’re experiencing, but on quiet moments on the couch with a cup of tea.  Of smiles from Shawn and his I’m so proud of yous and thank yous.

So, I’m encouraging you to take a half hour (preferably longer) and just be.  Grab a cup of tea or coffee or cocoa piled high with marshmallows or whipped cream.  Watch your child as the play in the wonderment that is Christmas.  Grab your spouse & kiss some place other than under the mistletoe.

Just be.

Here’s a couple songs from a band (Future of Forestry) we hope to wake up in time to go see Sunday morning.  This first song I first heard last year and it’s one of those that reaches to my depths.  The second, is O’ Holy Night.  Last year this song hit me in a way it never has.  They lyrics tell not only of Christ’s birth, but the freedom from slavery we are in before we come to Him.

The Earth Stood Still

O’ Holy Night

 

What are you doing this Christmas season just to be?

Home (a guest post)

Home.

What does it mean to you?

What defines home in your own words?

My friend & sewing extraordinaire Mandie has invited me to join her at her place today and we’re discussing what home means to me.

I can’t wait to hear your thoughts.

Read mine here.

The Gift of Monday Morning

Monday morning, and I’m nursing a latte.  Making the goodness last more than just a handful of minutes.  Florescent lights buzz overhead and the aroma of my orange clove candle perfumes the wide open expanse of my work area.

A friend’s daily morning email exclaims her determination that she will start the week off with an attitude adjustment, and choose not to be in a bad mood.  And I applaud her.

This past weekend was the last of our crazy busy month of October……….and I feel physically drained.  I’m looking forward with great anticipation of a few weeks silence before Christmas begins to take hold of my life.

Another friend says she can see can see the breaking of day, and together we rejoice that there is hope there.

….and so I write them out – the gifts, the graces – because seeing them in ink makes them more tangible.

0041 Choosing to forgive.
0042 Meeting my first niece.

0043 Baby girl smiles & kisses.
0044 Hugging my grandpa.


0045 Sister “in-law” hugs.

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0046 Sabbathing
0047 Nephews playing with uncles.
0048 Unexpected encouragement from an unexpected source.
0049 Seeing the dreams of God become my dreams.

Breath of Grace

His grace dawns with muted pinks and yellows and vibrant reds.  It pours over me like waves.  It reaches to the very depths of me and renews.  With each inhale of breath, His graces are new.

Counting His graces and gifts in my life.

0011  Forgiveness and understanding when I’ve yelled & cursed, as my hormones make me feel as though I’ve lost my mind.
0012  Laughter late into night.
0013  Sharing a pretzel & conversation with my best friend.
0014  His hand on me when he knows I need it.
0015  Pancakes at midnight.
0016  The tears that fell when He overwhelmed me with His never ending faithfulness.
0017  Emails that bring tears of joy and gratitude.
0018  Extra days off with my beloved.
0019  The hope that when goodbyes are said, hello will follow soon.
0020  An email from a friend that shows God’s amazing grace in the friendship He created.

Secure In The Dark

Darkness covers us with only the glow of the clock illuminating the room.  I close my eyes.  I open them.  I squeeze covers tight against me.  Anything to block the feeling and “seeing” the impact.

I roll over – my muscles aching – and reach for his arm.  I call out his name and ask if he would pray.  These vulnerable hours in the loneliness of the dark overwhelm my weary being.  I lay my head on his chest as his words of gratitude for safety and belief that He is greater wash over me.  His whispers for peace of mind and heart fill me as they rise to Heaven’s gates.  I lay there a few moments longer after “amen” has been said.  I hear his heart beating and I think how I love that sound.  The comfort and security that exists when I’m in a position to hear it.

While marriage isn’t always blissful, and living with another sinful person is one of the hardest things I’ve done it’s these moments I cherish.  Moments when nothing stands between us.  When tie that binds our hearts tightens.  We stand together.  We stand and put the most simplistic faith and trust in God.

Happy Birthday Nikita

Today a beautiful girl turns 11.

She means more to us than we could ever explain.

She is like a daughter.

Happy Birthday Nikita!!

Meet Our New “Daughter”

Shawn and I are huge supporters of Compassion Int’l.  Two years ago this past Saturday we started sponsoring Nikita.  She has touched our lives in ways we never could imagine.

For the last several months we’d discussed sponsoring another child.  We fully believe that we are called to care for the poor, and want to be obedient to God’s calling.

We decided a few weeks ago that we wanted to sponsor an older child through the term of their time with Compassion.  Older children are less likely to be sponsored.

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Since April 30th is the anniversary of when we started sponsoring with Compassion we decided to make that our consistent sponsorship date.  We missed that date by one day due to a busy day Saturday.  We sat down last night and sponsored this lovely young lady, Delinah.  She is 19, and  lives in Kenya – southeast of the Ugandan border.

We are thankful that God has brought her into our lives.  And for the few short years we are able to sponsor her I pray that we can be a blessing to her as she is to us.

 

Technology Sabbath

Do you remember 20 years ago?  No one had cell phones.  Twitter, Facebook, and MySpace weren’t even figments of a person’s imagination.  20 years ago the internet was fairly new to the mainstream.  I got my first cell phone in 1997.  A heavy piece of Motorola technology.  My minute charges varied by where I called in the city.  All I could do was take & place phone calls.

Today in the not quite yet “George Jetson” era of 2011 my life, like yours, is wrapped up in technology.  Nearly everything I do from the moment the morning alarm goes off on my cell to the last check of Twitter and/or Instamgram is inundated with some form of technology.

Technology isn’t a bad thing and is of course extremely useful, but there are times we just need to unplug ourselves lest we be led to destruction by it.

March 4 – 5th, is Nat’l Day of Unplugging.  24 hours to remove yourself from technology and invest yourself in your family, your friends, yourself.  The Nat’l Day of Unplugging was started by a Jewish organization called Sabbath Manifesto.  They took the commandment of God and applied it to technology.

This year Shawn and I will be participating.  Our cells will be on silent (used only in the case of an emergency).  Tweets will be untweeted.  Our laptops & computer will remain off.

If you’re interested in participating and wondering what you could possibly do for 24 hours without Twitter or text messaging check out this article.

Also let me know if you’ll be unplugging also.  Before Friday at sundown of course. ;)

Our Dance

This year Shawn and I will celebrate being a couple 14 years and our tenth anniversary.  We’ve fought for our marriage, for our couplehood.  In truth the years haven’t necessarily come easily.

As with any relationship you work to make it work.  Each person sacrifices their will for the others.  When done right it’s a beautiful dance.

I’m not always the perfect dance partner and neither is he.  We do our best.

Without a doubt I’d rather have no one else as we move across the dance floor.  He is the only one I ever want to come home to.  The one I want to envelope me, and hold me after a long day.  He’s the one I want to celebrate with.  The one I’d always rather be with.

I love the way he makes me laugh, and his smile [what first cause my heart to skip and my breath to sigh] still sends me into a whirlpool.  After 14 years he can still make me melt into a puddle.

Happy Valentine’s my Love.

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