Don't Break the Wild

I don't know why, exactly, but the other day, I found myself thinking of horses.  When they come of age and are old enough to be ridden, we "break" them.  We tame them into being controlled.  We take away the wildness.  That's not a bad thing with horses.  Heck, I love to ride horses but would never attempt an unbroken one.

But with people, we talk about "sowing wild oats," being the "wild child," and other analogies to express irresponsible behavior.  We "get it out of our systems" before we (ugh!) "settle down."  I don't want a "settled" man!  I want the wildness that God instilled in him to remain wild!  I want him to take me on an adventure!  I want to explore and share the insanity of life at his side.

Yes, life can get monotonous.  We can get stuck in ruts in marriage.  But we can also be silly and goofy and crazy and wild in our little family.  When I see that wildness in my husband, I remember exactly why I fell in love with him in the first place.  But wildness does not have to mean recklessness. 

I find the older I get, the wilder I get.  And by that, I mean that I care less about the opinions of strangers.  I get braver.  I find myself free to be nutso with my son.  I don't worry my husband will love me less if I'm singing at the top of my lungs and dancing like a maniac.  I literally was walking down the streets of downtown Chicago, holding my son's hand, and singing "Love is an Open Door" (from "Frozen") loud enough to be heard.  We got a couple of looks from strangers.  But they were smiles.  And the way I figured it, they were strangers.  I'll never see them again in my life.  I refuse to be concerned with their thoughts.  My son, on the other hand, will remember that his mom loved him enough that, when he said, "Can I say something crazy?" that I replied, "I love crazy!"  (the first line from that song.  He'll always keep with him that he mattered more than the strangers.  He'll know that he's worth my pride, worth risking embarrassment.  And hopefully, he'll see that he makes me braver.  I hope he always stays a little wild, a little uninhibited.

I love that the three of us bring out the wildness in one another.  I hope I never break the wild, but instead fully embrace and participate in it.  I want to take the "everydayness" out of the everyday.  And whether it's singing, dancing to the symphony rehearsal in public, or running through a torrential downpour with my son and my awesome aunt, I want to be wild!

Thank You Seems So Insufficient...

There are a few circumstances in life that can radically change you.  One of those is becoming a member of the U.S. Armed Forces.  My grandfather, Ray Carter Davis, did it by choice.  My great-uncle, Carroll Anthony, did it by choice.   Many men of my father's generation had the choice made for them.  Regardless of whether military service was volunteered for or not, it truly alters you forever.

For my grandfather, it cost him an eardrum and other physical issues for the rest of his life.  I cannot fathom the experiences he endured.  I cannot because he never spoke of it.  It cost my great-uncle his life.  It cost my grandfather his brother and, as a result of that loss, pain and guilt the rest of his life.

Yes, some people lose their lives.  Some lose body parts or body functions.  Some bear invisible wounds, such as brain injuries and PTSD.  Some come away physically and psychologically unscathed.  But no one, NO. ONE. comes away unchanged.

Military service, whether in a war zone or on peacekeeping missions, whether at home or abroad, whether active or reserve, changes you.  Maybe it gives you discipline you lacked as a youth.  Maybe it makes you stronger or more confident in ways you could never imagine.  Maybe it makes you jaded and skeptical.  Maybe it instills a pride in humanity.  Maybe it makes you confused or angry.  But it irreversibly alters you.  That doesn't have to be a negative thing.

To every person who has served and still has breath, THANK YOU.  You have my unending gratitude and unwavering support.  I do not take for granted what you have offered, given, or lost.  For every person who has lost their life in service of this nation, of me and my family, THANK YOU. 

And to all the family members, thank you for all that you sacrifice as well.

The Handwriting is on the...truck?

As I was riding in the car with my husband and son today on the way home from Milwaukee, we saw a tractor trailer with "Ps 46:10" written by finger in the grime of the trailer.  My husband actually was the one who noticed it and asked me what the scripture was that had been referenced.  Not being a biblical scholar and knowing book, chapter, and verses, I told him I was unsure.  (My guess was something about washing or cleaning, you know, in the "Wash Me" sense that is usually on dirty vehicles.)  I was wrong.

Funny thing is, we've been talking a lot in our little family lately about faith and believing in God.  My husband has doubts and questions.  I do not in any way blame or fault or not accept and love him because of these questions.  I actually love his deliberateness in wanting to be certain of something as big as faith instead of giving lip service to it.  How can you believe in something you cannot physically see or feel?  How do you know?  I want proof, evidence.  I want God to show Himself.  And of course, there's the ever-present, "I've done really well in my life without God.  I just don't see the need for Him."  We've also talked a lot about voids that seem to go unreconciled, regardless of success in career, wonderful family, or sufficient funds.  That empty place that *could* be deep calling unto deep?  That part of discontent that nothing material or earthly can fill because maybe, just maybe, we as humans really are made to be in a very real communion and relationship with God.

I looked up the scripture tonight.  I know it's a common one.  But based on our recent conversations, I feel like God was using the old "handwriting on the wall" method again.  Except this time, it wasn't impending doom.  It wasn't "you have been measured and found wanting."  It was an answer to the question.  It was God showing Himself and making the move.  It was physical proof to a human asking for a specific sign of evidence.  It said, "Be still and know that I am God." 

Two instructions.  Be still.  Know.   Whether or not this penetrates or changes a heart is between one human and an almighty God.  Maybe this is another seed or drop of water nourishing already planted seeds.  Maybe it's enough.  Maybe it's not. Yet.  But God answered a prayer and a question.  "How do I know?"  "Why won't He prove and show Himself?" 

Today, He did.  On the back of a dirty semi.

To whomever God used to write that message, thank you for your obedience.  It made a difference to me.

My Take on "Conscious Uncoupling"

When I first heard this new-fangled term, I assumed it was just a hoity-toity way for a Hollywood elitist to make herself feel unique and special and better about getting a divorce than the rest of the divorcing public, whether famous or not.  And I think, in a way, I'm right.  Then I read the "explanation." 

Wow.

Basically, a couple of people decided that since we're living longer than we used to, it's not reasonable for people to promise "until death" or "forever" because it'll last a lot longer.  In their minds, it's unreasonable and unrealistic for people to choose to stay together more than 10 or 15 years.  And since humans' life expectancies has increased exponentially over the past 100 years, marriage vows can realistically be expected to last a decade or so, then cycle through to the next relationship.  Nowadays, we ought to have an average of 3 or so marriages because no one can commit to just one person for 50 years!  So...after we go through the honeymoon phase and realize our spouse isn't perfect, we stew and brew and get irritated for  few years until we decide we're better off apart and we "consciously uncouple" but still make nice for the kiddos.

What a bunch of bologna!  (No offense to bologna...)  I don't care what generation you're in or how old you are or how old you are when you get married.  Love is a choice.  Marriage is a choice.  It is a lifetime commitment that we are quite capable of keeping should we choose to put forth the effort.  It isn't always easy or pretty.  It doesn't always work.  Some marriages should never be entered into; some cannot be saved.  Some divorces are not wanted by both parties.  But marriage CAN last. 

I think its a very lazy cop-out to claim life expectancy should change commitments.  Marriage is more than a piece of paper.  It's more than an "I love you today, so I'll stay."  It's "I love you.  I will choose to always love you.  I'll choose to always stay.  I'll choose to change and grow with you, not apart from you.  I'll love whomever you become and expect the same from you for me.  I'll choose to stay when the feeling isn't easily found, bubbling up on the surface.  I'll choose to wake up and love you even when I don't like you." But it's also "I cannot believe how much I love you and love the life we've made for ourselves.  I cannot believe how happy I am in daily and simple things.  I can't believe how much I laugh with you and how blessed I am that we choose each other.  I cannot believe how rich my life is because you are in it and we have chosen to stay together, even through the challenges." Love is a choice.  Marriage is a choice.  It should not be entered into lightly.  It shouldn't be entered into with an "until-I-change-my-mind" mentality. 

I have said "'til death." Twice.  I meant it.  And you know what?  As hard as it was to take it so seriously that my husband actually died, I loved again so deeply that I said it again, knowing what I was risking.  Knowing what I might go through.  Knowing that, until Lino or I are called from this life, I commit to being his wife. 

My brother is an awesome guy, for a lot of reasons.  One of the things I love most deeply about him is his willingness to ask or say things that probably other people think but no one would have the gumption to voice.  And maybe that's because we're siblings.  If so, I have a precious gift in him that no one else gets.  And I am blessed.  Either way, I remember after marrying Lino, my brother asking, "Was it hard or weird when you got to 'til death do us part?'"   Yes, Matt.  It was weird.  It can't help but bring back of flood of emotions and memories.  And yes, it was hard.  Recalling mine and Nathan's last journey is never easy.  But I never regret going through it or thinking of it.  But it was also a very easy promise to make again.  It was easy because my worst fears have already been realized and I know that, no matter what, God is still God.  And I am still here.  And as long as God keeps me here, He has good things to give me and work for me to do on His behalf. 

So I will live my life filled with love and hope and life and joy.  I will say "Til Death!"  And I will mean it.  There will be no "conscious uncoupling."  Rather, we will not go gentle into that good night.  This family, this marriage will be CONSCIOUSLY tended and cared for and worked on and joy-filled until death separates us.

Love Is...

As I approach this new year, as I reflect on my parents' relationship, as I evaluate my own marriage, it got me contemplating what or how Love is shown. 

For me, Love is...

*riding in a car for 8 hours without getting on one another's nerves.

*loving to talk with the other person, but being equally comfortable in the silence. 

*tolerating a radio station you would not choose because the other person enjoys it.  (we both did that yesterday!)

*reaching for a hand to hold and knowing it will be there. 

*singing along at the top of your lungs without being embarrassed. 

*knowing you can sob all over your loved one's shoulder over a major life disappointment without feeling like you should suck it up and get over it.

*getting the other person a glass of water or going to pick up their favorite food without huffing or eye-rolling.

*feeling free to ask the aforementioned favor.

*taking a walk together just because you enjoy one another's company.

*curling up watching TV or sitting beside one another reading.  knowing it's not always even about the activity, it's about being together.  it's about sharing space and life.

*the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that the other person has chosen YOU to spend their life with.

*the overwhelming feeling of gratitude that you chose them as well.  and that, no matter how deep into the journey you are, you still like the other person.

*knowing that your life will never be the same.

*not looking for greener grass, but tending your own together.

*every little, fantastic thing that, by itself may seem insignificant.  but when you add them all up, it means love.

A Godly Marriage

To have a Godly marriage, or even a healthy marriage, is something most people strive towards but often find challenging.  It's even harder if you haven't been able to witness it in action on a daily basis.  But I have.  As has almost anyone who's ever encountered Jim or Mary Davis for more that 2 minutes.

Two things in particular have stuck in my mind since childhood.  They were spoken by my parents, then acted upon.  When I was twelve, I asked my mother how she knew she still loved Dad.  After all, I assumed the romantic butterflies had faded.  She said, “love is a choice you make every day when you wake up.”  I also remember hearing my dad tell my brother and I, very matter-of-factly (with no meanness whatsoever) “I love your mother more than I love you.” 

For 14,610 days, they have chosen to wake up and love one another.  They have lived a life putting one another first, over everyone else.  As they should!  They have made tough choices and sacrifices.  They have never had brand-name everythings and gigantic paychecks.  Yet they both consider themselves blessed beyond measure.  They've been able to travel the world together.  I love that after 40 years, they are still one another's best friends and favorite traveling companions. 

Oh sure, they have had moments of being annoyed by one another.  But I can probably count on one hand the number of times I ever heard them fight.  But I remember one time in particular, cross words were spoken.  Not only did they make up and the offending party apologized, the offender actually apologized to my brother and I as well.  The apology was not for fighting in front of us.  It was for acting disrespectfully toward our parent and for not cherishing their spouse.  The fight lasted a matter of minutes and was instantly followed by the apology.  The craziest thing about apologizing to my brother and I is that we were already adults.

The example these two are of choosing love daily is mindblowing.  The thing I find equally impressive is how easy they make the choice on the other person!  Each would probably credit the other with making the marriage easy.  I’ve never thought either of them was struggling to love one another.  He still thinks she’s the most beautiful woman in any and every room.  She still thinks he’s the kindest, most generous man she’s ever known.  I think they’re both right.

Happy Anniversary.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas.  I write this in the 3 am hour because I could not sleep.  I don't know why.  It's not childlike giddiness.  It's annoying, grown-up, I-had-to-pee-two-hours-ago-and-haven't-been-able-to-sleep-again-since-so-I-might-as-well-get-out-of-bed.  So here I am, contemplating Christmas and life.  Here's what I've come up with...

Christmas is a beautiful time of year, usually.  Homes are decorated inside and out.  A general good-naturedness kicks in a little more among friends and strangers.  People put forth effort in making or buying things for loved ones, at least thinking of and considering them.  (Yes, there's drama and commercialism.  But we'll save the complaints for another time.)  Yet I understand that there can be an ache, a pain that comes with the holiday.

For those who have no family, it can feel very isolating.  For those who's table is a little smaller because of a recent death of a loved one, the empty chair is the most glaringly obvious, or sometimes only, thing seen.  For a marriage that crumbled, especially with children involved, there is pain, divisiveness, bitterness, anger, and guilt.  For the couple struggling with infertility, be it primary or secondary, there can be a difficulty in missing the twinkle of a child's eye or delight in their laughter that might never be heard or seen.

All that to say, Life rarely turns out the way we expect.  That's one of my favorite things to say, especially to young people.  (Actually, I usually say, "Life rarely turns out the way you expect, but that's usually a good thing."  I'll do a whole separate post on this soon.)  It got me thinking more.  Jesus Christ, maker of Heaven and Earth, all-knowing Creator, experienced this, too.

Life did not turn out the way He designed.  He knew, yes.  But Life was not what it was intended, aka expected, to be.  Creation rebelled.  Man fell.  So He chose to come.  Did His earthly life play out the way He expected?  (Not knew, expected...)  Did He expect to have to be on the run as an infant in order to survive to adolescence?  Probably not.  Did He expect His parents or siblings to think He was a bit off His rocker?  Nope.  Did He want to have His best friends deny or betray Him?  I don't believe so.  Did He want to suffer the humiliation and physical trauma of crucifixion?  Undoubtedly no.  He even asked for the cup to pass if there was another way.  He knew.  But He still did not want.

Life didn't play out the way Jesus would have scripted if He had written scenes and words for actors to play and say.  But He lived it so perfectly, so humanly, and so Godly.  So, as I reflect on Emmanuel, God With Us, Creator living in His creation, I realize that even He, the Author, had an unexpected Life.

Whether your life is as you intended, as you planned, as you expected, or not, consider this.  God gave us every breath.  He counted them all.  He knew.  No matter how beautiful or painful your life is at this moment, your life, because of His, is precious.  Your life is as He knew it would be.  Your life is as He can handle.  Your life is a blessing.  Honor Him by living it well.  Because no matter what you thought it would be, it is as it is.  And it is a gift.