Nine Years

It is such a long time - encompassing so many obstacles and much more growth and change than I ever could have fathomed. Depths of grief I wasn't sure we could climb out of and mountain top joys where we are always aware of your physical absence.

Nine years!

I was 42 when we said goodbye, now I am 51. Our children are now 22 and 23. So much life has been lived without you by our side.

It's hard to think of how different our lives would be today if you were still here.

Hard and useless.

Comparison can be a thief of joy.

I recently sat down to pay the kids' final semester bursar bills.

I cried with thankfulness to God for seeing us through these nine years.

I cried with the realization of the celebrations on the horizon where your presence will be missed.

I cried with gratitude for you., Thank you for loving us so completely,. Thank you for leading us. Thank you for providing for us. Thank you for choosing me in 1995 and for building our family together.

I am so incredibly proud of our children. Their resilience. Their work ethic. Their intense dedication to walk through their grief and improve on themselves. I am excited to see where this gift of education leads them in their lives; what trajectory their careers take, how they continue to grow personally. I may have written the checks, but they showed up, did the hard work well, and earned their soon to be awarded degrees.

A lot can change in nine years. A lot of positive can be accomplished.

I have faltered at plenty in this journey, but when it comes to our kids; I am confident your legacy has been honored and we have made you proud.

Timothy Wayne Streller

04/03/1968 - 01/11/2014

Even If

School Awards Assembly 2014

Lunch Date with Mom 2023

Seven years...

Seven years…

It’s a long time. Two thousand-five-hundred-fifty-six days!

That’s a lot of living this life without your physical presence.

Seven years have contained some bad days; some days we weren’t sure we would survive.

So much change. Incredible growth. Hard roads walked; deep grief navigated.

Seven years have held some good days. Some days of thriving and confidence. Some days overflowing with pure happiness.

All days have possessed the common thread of your absence.

Each day also has been overflowing with the presence of God. He goes before, He walks beside, He hems us in from behind and He pours His blessing of peace within our souls.

Always loved. #EvenIf

 

Love Has Found Me

The other half of my forever. 

It has come quickly and fiercely, yet looking back, I see God’s gentle prodding and preparing of my heart for this timing.

Five months ago I sat across from a widower in a local restaurant on our first face-to-face meeting. We instantly connected on several levels. When he spoke of his late wife, his eyes and voice changed ever so slightly. Maybe it wouldn’t have been noticeable to many; but to someone who also had a beautiful marriage...it was obvious...this was a man who loved well and was loved well.

What a gift!

If I could visit the afterlife and have a few minutes with his late wife, I would hug her tightly and say...

Thank you, Julie.
Thank you for loving him well. Thank you for raising such sweet and respectful children with him.  Thank you for the beautiful relationship you had with both extended families.

Words actually fail me when I try to describe the gift he is to me, and I fully acknowledge that YOU were instrumental in molding him into the man who stands before me. I appreciate your love affair and your forever place in his heart. I am humbled to be stepping into the lives of your children and family. You will always be honored by me. Your family will always be respected by me.

Mark and I never could have imagined that you and my late husband would only be half of our forever's; but here we are.

We know we are fortunate to have found each other; to be experiencing two "love of our life's" in a single lifetime.  I am head over heels in love with him.

I promise to love him completely. I vow to love and treat your children as though they are my own.

I prayed, oh friends how I prayed!

I was content to remain single. We were a happy family of three. I had no desire to ever date again.

I prayed daily for an entire year that if God had someone special for me in my future, he would change the desire of my heart.

He did.

It scared me.

So I prayed.

I prayed daily for an entire year for God to prepare me for my future mate and to prepare him for me.

It was another year and a half before I met him.

A man who was loved well and loves me well. A man who knows the plight of solo parenting through grief and has excelled at it.  A man who is respected in his profession and adored by his family and friends.

I admire him. I cherish him. I enjoy being his. He is the answer to three and a half years of constant prayer.

So now, I pray.

I pray God blesses and protects our relationship.

I pray God continues to mold me into the woman this man needs as his encourager and partner.

I pray I can be a safe haven for him and his children in the years to come and that he can be a positive, loving mentor in the lives of my children.

This life is full of twists and turns; crushing turmoil and unexpected blessings. We cannot escape pain and loss; but we can embrace love. God is so faithful to expand our hearts to include new love without it standing in competition or comparison with the past. I marvel at how the great loves of my life can so peacefully co-exist independently within me.

Beauty from ashes...God is good.

A Podcast Interview: Memories and Missing

Yesterday morning, I sat with a friend and visited about widowhood.

She asked real questions and I gave raw answers.  We barely even noticed the microphone in front of us.

Today, her podcast interview was released.

My first thought while listening is, "Goodness gracious, I do laugh a lot in this life!" and I am not one bit sad about that fact!

Tim would be tickled that I am still laughing my way through this messy life.

https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/elizabethkaydyers-podcast/id1417204110?i=1000436964800&fbclid=IwAR19zGOQI3gvZ36Feettpa367VXZkp0vYETXWacmtTdgLfatJ-7qSkCHTcA

Worth It

On this weekend, 23 years ago I went on a blind date to an outdoor rodeo with a handsome cowboy whose blue eyes and sly smile intrigued me.

I’ve made a lot of poor choices in this life.  I have plenty of regrets.

Reluctantly agreeing to meet Tim Streller at a rodeo was neither.  Instead, it was one of the best decisions of my life.

We had twenty years of laughter and love.  God built a beautiful life and an amazing family for us.  We experienced heartache and joy holding tightly to each other’s hands.  Our life together was spectacular.  We kept our eyes on Christ and prioritized open and honest communication, even when it was painful to do so.

A good marriage is work.  It requires the desire to build the other up with kindness and encouragement.  It demands self-sacrifice and commitment.  It requests honor, protection, and respect; but a good marriage is also FUN and carefree.  It is comfortable and casual.  It is late night giggles and arms wide open.  It prefers to do life together.  It is safety and security, in it you find the one place you can be completely you without risk of judgment or abandonment.

A good marriage has you knowing you are treasured and chosen.  It is rolling up your sleeves and working beside each other for common goals.  It is being the cheerleader outside of the limelight, the quiet supporter of each other’s dreams. 

I am immensely proud to have been the wife of a man who chose to make me feel beautiful even when I wasn’t (both internally and externally); one who challenged me to be the best version of myself; one who didn’t walk away in the hard, but stayed in the messy and did the work to make us a better team.

I’m forever grateful I said “yes” to the rodeo blind date that late September evening.  And even knowing now how our lives would end up, I’d tell that young girl to SAY YES AGAIN!  The two decades together were worth it.  His love was worth it. 

 

      

It Is What It Is (as featured on A Widow's Might)

 

 

“I have been crucified with Christ. 

It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. 

And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God,

who loved me and gave himself for me.” ~Galatians 2:20 ESV

It was what he said.
Time and time again.
When the diagnosis first came, “Lori, it is what it is.”
When the treatments failed, “It is what it is, Babe.”
When death approached, “It is what it is.”
It was never about giving up. It was always about our inability to change the circumstances.
It was never about a lack of faith. Quite the opposite, it was always about knowing that whatever lied ahead, God was already there.
The words have rattled around in this widow’s brain since he first uttered them to me– such wisdom in the middle of tremendous pain. So much confusion for us both, and yet he possessed a complete dependence on the One who was in control, surrendering.

Surrendering…
to the Lord who knows our difficulties and leads the way.
to the One who is trustworthy and faithful.
to the God who never asked us to understand, but did call us to believe.

I watched it play out right before my eyes. “It is what it is.”
This husband of mine and his clinging to God, regardless of what was thrown at him; it left me speechless.
His searching for and finding God’s perfect peace in the midst of chaotic suffering was a humbling and gorgeous process to witness.
The example of full surrender to God’s plan, even when it meant acknowledging the loss of every single shattered dream, every selfish desire, and every personal plan is something of which I still stand in awe.
“It Is What It Is” was moment-by-moment surrender in the heat of the battle.
When Tim’s final cancer war began, we were desperately crying out to God, pleading for earthly healing. Somewhere along the way, our prayers changed to reflect more surrender in our hearts. We found a new level of acceptance that this life ultimately is not in our control.  It simply is what it is.
Now I stand on the other side of the trauma of his death. Facing new challenges, different pain, and unique depths of frustration, I have a choice.  Thankfully, that choice comes on the heels of God’s proven faithfulness.
And so, this life as a widowed woman raising children through adolescence and into adulthood is mine to view as a blessing.
I cannot change the events that took my husband from this earth and left me as the sole earthly parent to our children.
I cannot change our loss, but I can choose my response to it.

I can remember the Lord who knows our difficulties and leads the way.
I can lean into the One who is trustworthy and faithful.
I can fully rely on the God who never asks me to understand, but does call me to believe.

My faith tells me that no matter what lies ahead of me, God is already there. He is preparing the way.
It is what it is
and
He is who He is.



Lord, I surrender to Your will. Use all of this for Your glory.  This loss and my finding how to survive the other side of it isn’t the path I would have chosen, but I trust You to be working in it for my good. Amen.






- See more at: http://anewseason.net/author/loris/#sthash.NjTBPSMT.dpuf

Selfless Love

Have you been loved selflessly? Have you experienced a deep love that you know you are safe in? That kind of love that is fierce and yet tender; possessive and yet not overbearing; thorough and all-consuming, yet leaves you wanting them even more?

As humans, we were created to love and to be loved. God created us for an intimate relationship with Himself; but He also created us for fellowship and closeness with others.

I was loved well by my Tim. I knew I was cherished and he knew he was adored. We had deep respect and admiration for each other.

When love is real, it builds the other up instead of taking cheap shots to knock them down. It supports emotionally, encourages physically, and leads spiritually. It protects and nurtures.

A true love affair will not omit respect; it won't degrade dignity; it doesn't lack praise.

Have you known this kind of love?

Sadly, many have not. Far too many have experienced a twisted version of love's purity; yet they know no different and still call it love. Oh how marvelous the touch of love without selfish motives can be. The "cheerleader" kind of love that longs for the others success and motivates them for greatness behind the scenes.

At this time of year, my mind tends to reflect on memories more often, I am grateful to have experienced real love. Obviously, the perfect love of my Heavenly Father; but also the imperfect love of a man who knew what it meant to be selfless. A man whose love left me feeling safe and protected. While we didn't always do everything the right way, I've no doubt he loved me and I loved him.

I may never know human love on this relationship level again in my lifetime. And that is okay. I was loved well. Not perfectly, but strongly, and selflessly. I challenge those of you with loved ones by your sides to love in this way. Don't waste time not being fully invested in your own love affair. Love deeply. Love purely. Love sacrificially. Love with a grateful heart. Do it now. I assure you, you will miss it when the opportunity is gone.

For almost four years I have lived in crisis mode or grief mode. It ages the soul. My eyes have witnessed medical horrors I can never mentally erase. My heart has walked beside the hearts of our children in the shattering of their innocence and the dark valley of death. It has been a constant battle to overcome the mental flashes of difficult memories. God has tenderly reminded me of the continuing thread of the love between Tim and myself intertwined throughout each memory.

Two things have carried me through. The love and strength of my God as He shelters me under His protective wings, and the knowledge that I was loved deeply by Tim.

Love intentionally, friends, and love well. I get that life is busy, but we all have a choice to make. I hope you choose to love well in the midst of the busy.

Birthday Reflections October 3, 2015

Forty-four years ago today I was born.

Twenty-two years ago today I celebrated this day with a new boyfriend who would turn out to be my husband.

Fifteen years ago today I was freshly home from the hospital and now a mother of two.  One 16-month old toddler and one 6-day old preemie.

Four years ago today was my last passionate kiss with my husband, as his sore throat continued to worsen and the cancer ran rampant.

Three years ago today I sat surrounded by friends and family as Tim underwent a gruesome 23 hour surgery as our last tiny chance at chasing the healing that would not be ours.

One year ago today I celebrated my first birthday in over two decades without him by my side.

Today, the kids and I went to our new home and wrote Scripture on the foundation and framing. We prayed over it and dedicated it to the Lord with extremely grateful hearts for the ability to have a safe place to lay our heads at night and make new family memories.

Today has been bittersweet for me. Lots of joyful memories, fun new laughter, and lots of tears. Lots and lots of tears. I didn't expect this intense grief wave today, but as Tim would say, "It is what it is."

Thank you for the birthday wishes. I am blessed by a God who loves me deeply, provides friends to walk alongside of me in this life, and carries me on the rough days. I am covered by His feathers; tucked safely under the refuge of His wings.

Love is a gift that transcends time and location. I know to the marrow of my bones that I am loved by Tim Streller. Today, I just found myself wishing I could experience that love in the flesh again for a long hug.

Tonight, I rest my head on my pillow and have happy thoughts. I am excited for the future of our family. I am grateful. Tears will leak and grief will overtake me at times, but the laughter always returns and joy fills me up again.

God is good. Here is to whatever God has in store for me in this next year of life. May I live it well and glorify Him!

I used Tim's Bible to copy Scripture onto the foundation.

The Place Where Joy and Sorrow Co-Mingle

I sit in a lawn chair staring at the sky. 

Fireworks burst before my eyes, but my mind is flashing even brighter with memories of years gone by.

Our first 4^th of July, he propped the ladder against the side of his rent house and hopped up on the roof reaching down for my hand.  We lay there watching the sky explode in patriotic colors.

Fast forward five years to him holding our seven week old son while sitting on the rear compartment of our minivan in Plano, Texas to watch the fireworks.  I can see his ball cap on his head and Kolby with pacifier in mouth.  I remember what they wore.

Pops of color bring another flash of memory to us in lawn chairs in the bed of his truck lined with quilts as our one and two year old children stare in awe at the UCO spectacular show.

A splash of light floods the sky as years come tumbling through my mind.  Festivities with friends in our neighborhood, fun with new friends as time progresses, time with his oldest friend as both men have landed in Edmond.

The sound of a boom and tears slide down my cheeks as memories of the final 4^th of July crash into my mind.  I am rearranging hospital furniture to get his bed closer to a window so he can see the beauty of America’s celebration.  We had planned to sneak up on the hospital roof, but he was too weak so we improvised.  He is so grateful for my efforts to help him experience some portion of normalcy in this slow march toward death's door.

I find myself happy and yet sad.  Tears of gratitude flow unashamedly beside tears of sadness. 

And I realize that one week out from 18 months into this journey;

this is the place where joy and sorrow co-mingle.  

Here, in my memories. 

It is both beautiful and hard. 

It is all together lovely and crushing; uplifting and devastating.

To have known a love so fierce,

To have been cherished so completely,

To have experienced in our twenty years what friends say many don’t know in a lifetime;

It is a privilege and it is heartbreaking at the same time.

Tim~ Loving you forever, missing you always….Lori

       

Living Life as a Party of One

I've had a lovely mini-escape over the past several days.  It wasn't my first time to travel alone since Tim's passing, but I have yet to be alone at my destination until now.  Does that make sense?  This was a first for me.  Ever, actually.

 

I toured a Native American Cultural center.

 

Walked a trail looking for bison (saw one in the distance but no photo).

Enjoyed a delicious meal at a nice restaurant.

Spent an entire day being pampered at a spa.

Shopped at some cute little boutiques.

 

Lounged around, watched the rain, read a book, played in the casino some, and rested in a steam sauna.

Walked through an art gallery.

Visited a winery and toured a chocolate factory.

 

It was wonderful.

It was peaceful.

It was what I needed.  Time for self-evaluation and reflection.  Time to look at my future with eyes wide open and a heart willing to go where God leads.

I needed to just be Lori again.  The Lori that Tim loved.  The Lori without the weight of the world on her shoulders.

I drove home with the radio blaring, singing at the top of my lungs and with a smile on my face. 

I am refreshed.  I can do this.  

{And as soon as I waver and begin to think I can't, I will take myself on another escape, soak up more of God's creation and let Him whisper to my soul in the quiet of my singleness that He is with me and in Him I can do all things.}

I intend to live a beautiful life.  A life that glorifies God and honors my husbands memory.  

I don't have a clue what God has in store for my future.  I feel Him working on my heart.  I see Him shaping my thoughts.  Yet I don't know which types of beauty my life will include.  What I do know, what He has already proven, is that He is faithful. And because of His faithfulness, I can trust Him. 

And trusting Him, my friends, it is enough!

  

Permission to Live

It isn't uncommon for me to wonder several times each day what Tim would think of something.

What would he think about a situation with one of the kids at school? How would he advise I handle it? 

What would he think about the threat of terrorism on American soil?  

What would he think about my outfit?   

How hard would he laugh over a witty comment? 

How would he plan for our future financially?  Would he approve of my decisions?

And on and on my mind goes.

Next month will mark my seventeenth month without having his opinion to help guide me, to carry on important conversations with, to share humor with and to validate my feelings.  

I am confident in what I know he would want from me.  He was very clear before his passing.  He wanted me to LIVE.  He wanted the kids and me to LAUGH and to continue to LOVE deeply.  He didn't want us holding back from participating fully in this life.  He, of all people knew what precious gifts life and fully living it are.  

He would say that we honor his memory best when we choose to keep loving and keep living.  He would want whatever remains of our lives to be full and rich with joy.

That has been easier said than done for the better bulk of this past year.  Grief takes a lot of personal work and is exhausting.  It is necessary for proper healing to occur, but the process is excruciating and tiring.  We still have work to do.   Grief continues to sneak attack us, and that might never change.  We will continue to work our way through it.  Each of us individually and the three of us as a family.

But I am seeing huge progress.  This house is filling with spontaneous laughter again.  Family games at the kitchen table.  Goofing off as we prepare dinner and clean the kitchen.  Improper but secretly hilarious table manners (Don't tell them I said that! I PROMISE they've been taught better).  Humorous interactions and sarcasm at a level that would make Tim incredibly proud.  Just tonight, the two of them ganged up and held me down while tickling my feet until I couldn't breathe from the laughing. (Something their father taught them years ago.)

I dare say, we are finally making it.  We have practiced the "Fake it 'til you make it" mentality and are beginning to see real progress.  Extended periods of happiness and genuinely positive attitudes.  It is beautiful.  The three of us are building fun memories together.  

And I think Tim would be smiling; he would think, "Well done, guys."

That thought, knowing we have his blessing in moving forward through life without guilt. It is yet another gift he has left us.  I am grateful.

Mother's Day Year Two

It’s Mother’s Day and I am filled with thoughts of the one who fulfilled my lifelong dream of becoming a Mom.  (Well, God fulfilled the dream, but this guy had a huge role in it too.)

I remember with a smile on my face.  At least for now, because let’s face it, year two of loss throws some serious curve balls in our emotions.  But, for now, there is laughter on my breath as my mind flashes to the excitement of decorating the dining room with streamers, balloons and a “Congratulations Daddy” sign to greet my husband home from work.  16+ years ago.  Wow.

Our journey to parenthood included dozens of failed fertility procedures, multiple disastrous adoption stories, loads of tears, endless prayers and years off the calendar of our lives.

But I had received “the” call from our infertility surgeon on this particular afternoon and a joy like no other was radiating from me.  All of the drugs and procedures, the heartbreaks of adoptions that never came to fruition, the months of negative pregnancy tests (we should have bought stock in one of those companies!) were just a memory eclipsed by my happiness.  I could finally open the closed nursery door that mocked me as I exited our bedroom each morning.  We were pregnant with our son!

He walked in the door and stood stunned.  I can still see his face and hear his “Really?  No, really?” and feel his arms lift me off the ground in a swooping hug. Our laughter rings out in my head.

Knowing how long and difficult our road to conception had been, we began the infertility shots and processes again with a six-week old baby in tow to each appointment.  We were so crazy in love with our son and wanted him to have siblings.  The very next February, I was able to surprise Tim with two homemade Valentine’s Day Cards.  One from our boy and one from “Baby #2”.  We welcomed our precious daughter in September and Tim continued in his hands on role of being the best Daddy I have ever witnessed; lovingly caring for me and our children.

Future attempts to conceive children were never successful, but I was blessed to share foster parent responsibilities with this wonderful man as we ministered to four different children before he was diagnosed with leukemia.  

Today, as my children celebrate me and I celebrate my own amazing mom…my mind replays the love story of the man who made me a better mother each day I was by his side.

He encouraged and praised me in my parenting.  He laughed with me behind closed doors over the frustrations of my day.  He honored my role as a stay-at-home mom.  He worked extremely hard to provide for us.  He prayed for me and with me.  He guided our family well and brought joy to my responsibility of motherhood.  We made a great (and goofy) team.

I am honored to be Mom to our children.  I am thankful to Tim for being instrumental in making my dreams of motherhood come true.  We miss him terribly.  He has left a mighty legacy in our children.  I trust God to complete our story. 

Jeremiah 49:11b “and let thy widows trust in me.”

20 Year Old Memories

On this day twenty years ago…

I woke up in my parents’ home as a single woman, but I ended the day swept away in a limousine and tucked into the Waterford Hotel as a wife.

My mom and I enjoyed a day full of giggles and shopping.  Two of the things we do best.

Girlfriends met me at the church where we got ready and had our photos taken.

I kissed my dad on the cheek as the trumpet began playing my song, then the double doors were swung open and he walked me down the aisle.

How handsome my groom looked with his beaming smile as I approached. 

We vowed to love and respect each other for richer, or poorer, in sickness and in health.  And we lived through all four of those situations in the two decades to come.

We lit the unity candle in front of hundreds of friends and family as my high school Bible and Choir teacher flawlessly sang the Lord’s Prayer.

We shared our first kiss as a married couple…and then, giggling, I wiped my lipstick off his lips to the laughter of the crowd.

We were announced as Mr. and Mrs.

It was a gorgeous start to an amazing life.  To love and be loved by Tim Streller was an indescribable gift.  I am proud to have been his wife.

Today is both our 20^th wedding anniversary and the fourteen month anniversary of his passing.

Knowing now that our love story would be cut tragically short, if I could sit myself down for a chat, I would tell that 23 year old girl to still choose to marry him.

Because, he was worth it.  This life has been astonishingly beautiful.  Through the trials and the tears, the victories and the growth, side-by-side with daily laughter on our breath; it has ALL been worth it.

Thank you for loving me so well, Tim.  Your love lives on through me and our children.  In the blink of an eye, you will turn around and greet us in our heavenly home.  Until then, we will choose to honor you by continuing to live life fully, love intentionally, and laugh daily.

A Marriage Covered by Grace

This coming Wednesday would have been our twentieth wedding anniversary.

I should be celebrating someplace exotic.

Instead I am left alone to reflect on our years together.

Tim passed away two months shy of our nineteenth anniversary.  Two months to the day.

I would like to think with certainty we would still be married for our twentieth if Tim were here instead of heaven.  But as I soul search, I have to admit that it would only have been by the grace of God,

just as it was only by His grace we reached the eighteen year, ten month mark.

Let me explain.

We were two imperfect people joined together in a covenant with our perfect God.  There were three of us in this union, and only One of us had the power to make it stick.  Only One of us always loved with a selfless and sacrificial love.  News Flash:  That One was neither Tim nor I.

Over the years, I often failed my husband with judgmental attitudes or harsh words.  He sometimes failed me by placing other responsibilities ahead of our relationship.  We didn’t always choose to love well, even though we knew better.  There were times when we were selfish and immature.  We absolutely failed each other.  But there was One who never failed us.

We learned early in our relationship that good communication would be one of our strongest allies.  It was critical, not just with each other; but our individual and collective communication with our God.

On more than one occasion over those nearly nineteen years, Tim and I sat in our closet floor with tears streaming, sharing our unhappiness and lack of fulfillment in the marriage.  Expressing how we needed more from each other.  Asking God to remove our pride and revive the passion in our commitment to this union.

That’s just the “pull-back-the-curtains” truth.  I do the beauty of our marriage a disservice if I don’t admit it.  We had a good marriage.  We loved each other deeply.  We were friends.  We enjoyed time together and were both head over heels in love with our children.  I could go on and on about the wonderful positives with a huge smile on my face.

Memories of how… 

How we were disciplined and diligent in saving for the 20% down payment on our first home. 

How we grew even closer when eight months later Tim moved us across the country to the mountains of Utah.  (Even though, having never been that far from my family, I literally cried for the first 9 hours of the drive.)

How we clung to each other through repeated failed adoptions and the trials of infertility. 

How we celebrated each positive pregnancy test.

How he held me as we were sent home from appointments to mourn the loss of a life growing inside of me. 

How we delighted in the healthy delivery of two miraculous children.

Memories tumble through my mind, glimpses into our beautiful mess of those first five years.  As I reminisce, walking through year by year of our story, I am reminded of how shallow the beauty of the “good” is without the difficulty of the “bad”.

It was because of the “hard” that we softened to each other.  It was due to the “rough” that we began to smoothly fit together.  And it was most definitely only by the grace of God that our love affair survived.  It was the joining of the three of us that allowed the two of us to remain committed to a relationship full of imperfect love.

Yes, sitting here alone with our twentieth anniversary approaching, I can clearly see our marriage can be defined solely by God’s grace.

Our life together was a choice.  We made a covenant commitment to each other and to our Lord on March 11, 1995.  The three of us walked this journey together.  While “until death do us part” happened for Tim and me far too soon by our plans, there is One who knew the exact ending all along.  There is One who never lost sight of the covenant, never grew frustrated with the commitment, and never left us alone to figure it all out.

I remember the struggles and the pain fondly now, for they led to the stretching that fit us tightly together.  I remember both the weariness and the ease of our love, for they were both required in the growth of our relationship.  One doesn't negate the other.  It’s important I don’t allow my memories to “sugar coat” reality.  Our marriage was not a fairy tale.  It was instead, a tale of two imperfect people bound in unity to a perfect God.  It was a tangled dichotomy of joy and sorrow, ease and hardship, fun and frustration.  It was real life.

Mostly, I remember the commitment covered and protected by the grace of God.

And, I am grateful.  Grateful to the One who held it all together.

Happy “would-be” anniversary, Babe.  I will forever love you!

Lessons in True Love

I have so much I want my kids to know about love. 

True love, the kind of love that lasts a lifetime.

I want them to know that it doesn't just “happen”.  True love is something you work for.  It’s a choice. 

I want them to understand that one day someone special will catch their eye.  They will “fall in love”. 

And it truly will feel like a complete “cannot-catch-my-breath” free fall.  

Their thoughts will be consumed with this person.  It will be hard to concentrate on much else.  This person will steal their hearts affections. 

They will be giddy and silly together. 

These feelings are fun and exciting.  They are infatuation.

Infatuation can be the beginning of love; but true love is so much more.

The love they want to watch for.  The love they want to wait for.  This love serves.  It puts others first.  It respects and protects.

I need them to understand that they have a responsibility to let God guide them.  

We can’t always control who catches our eye, but we can control who we give our heart to. 

I want them to be cautious in giving their heart away; to choose wisely. 

True love grows.  It works through the struggles.  It stays and discusses hurt feelings instead of storming off.  It gives its beloved the benefit of the doubt. 

Loving someone in this way isn't always easy. 

It requires the denial of self and the laying down of pride. 

It demands we “show” our love through our actions not just our words. 

And I also want them to know that when you put in the hard work, when you choose to use “love” as a verb…a beautiful relationship will develop.

One that still includes the infatuation, but has a depth of intimacy that is so much more.

The courtship and the dating, the engagement and the wedding day, the honeymoon and the first year; they will be thrilling. 

But the day in and day out of living,

the dishes in the sink,

the laundry on the couch,

the tough career decisions,

and the living out of their marriage vows…

that’s where the real falling in love occurs.

The years will pile upon themselves and their diligence of choosing to constantly work on loving will be a gorgeous foundation for their family. 

It will be what is remembered when one of them goes to heaven before the other. 

It will be what counted most.