Wife: Protect his heart.

                               

As I was innocently scrolling through my Facebook this morning I happened upon a post that someone on my friend's list had liked. You know, the post that randomly jumps out at you while you're just trying to mind-numbingly scroll down the page. Yeah, that one. 

I've seen too many to count... and too many have been "liked" or "shared" by people on my friend's list. Let's lay aside my basic concern for those who like or share these posts, as they proclaim Christ, and get to an issue that is altogether bigger than we may realize. While I typically report these posts to Facebook in hopes to stand for righteousness and truth, and I usually get a good response from Facebook and they remove the item, but today was a totally different story. They told me that while my concern had been heard, they deemed the post safe to be on Facebook and fine to be seen by their community. Whomever that may be. 

What was the post you may ask? Well the subject to the video said something along the lines of (and I paraphrase) "If God didn't create women to be looked at..." and proceeded to show women as they "twerked" with their backsides exposed to a man who watched. And we're talking a room full of women in front of this man. 

Stop.

Stop right there. My heart lept out of my chest and I broke instantly for those women! Those women who were not only being objectified by the man in the video... but then also that same objectification being perpetuated all throughout social media! WHY!? 

Then I heard very quickly and sternly in my spirit, "Krystle, what would you do if Jonathan saw this before you?" 

I sank.

I quickly reported the video as inappropriate, but all I could think of was, "what if my husband had been innocently scrolling through Facebook too and happened upon pornographic material?" I couldn't bear the thought if I had just kept on scrolling, ingoring that post... and ignoring all the men's hearts out there that I have a right as a Christian woman to protect. No it's not my job to police the internet, but I am called to stand for righteousness and truth in the atmosphere that I have influence over. After all, we are called to be thermostats, not thermometors. We mustn't just judge the temperature of a culture, but rather be ones who change it!

We must be a city set upon a hill! 

One of my roles as a good wife is to protect my husband. To protect his heart, and his mind... to help guard him from the schemes of the enemy. With lust and perversion running rampant in our society I must stand watch with him over the temptation to sin. Wives, we fight this battle with our husbands together! If you think for a second it is only their fight, then we have been sorely mistaken. We are called to help protect the intimacy in our lives... and anything that comes between that is like a wedge forcing two hearts away from each other. One body, one flesh, one fight... together. For marriage. 

And if you're not married... you still have a right to protect the men around you. Those hearts belong to someone else. They are someone's husband. Someone's father. We can help them win the battle if we help them protect the importance of purity and holiness. 

As for Facebook... I don't think I'll be on much anymore... it's disappointing to see a "family" friendly website allow such trash into their community. I will continue to report and flag anything that I see in hopes that I can at least protect the man that protects me. Praying for peace and restoration to those that struggle with this.

Are you pregnant yet?

        

I'm 24, I have a handome husband, beautiful house, a dog and two children. My life is what I always dreamt it would be... everything has worked as I always thought it would have!

What a beautiful life! 

It's only a dream, a wish of what could have would have been... if only I had stuck to the plan. The reality is I am 28, I have a handsome husband, a beautiful apartment and two dogs... quite a stones throw from where I once dreamed I would be as a little girl. And my heart aches...

It's hard to explain the pain that I feel when I have to answer questions about pregnancy, family and children. And I know that no one means harm, but my heart still beats for my desires to be fulfilled, and I know they will be one day, however right now... it hurts. Ever since I can remember I have dreamt of being a Mommy and raising a beautiful family while LOVING every second of it. There was even a time in my life when doctors and my parents were unsure that I would even be able to conceive due to the possibility of having Turner Syndrome, and I will never forget the day that I found out that I was normal... it was a beautiful relief to a grief that I had carried silently with me from childhood. Though I was barely a teenager when I found out I would be able to have children one day all I could do a lot of times was dream of what my family would be like one day. 

I had it written down on paper... every detail! Names, genders, house design... you name it! Everything was leading up to the biggest let down of my life! Or the life I had created in my head according to Western Christian standards. It wasn't a let down all at once, but it was year after year after I had turned 24. That's when the questions started. The questions that would thwart me into a place that I wasn't at yet... questions that would always try to give me a title that God hadn't given me yet. It started with friends and family asking if there was a "special someone". And in my line of sight... there was NO ONE! No one seemed to fit that bill of "husband material". After the questions started, my heart began searching... everywhere. I would watch guys at church as they prayed or worshipped and I would think "is that him? I like the way he worships/prays..." or "I wonder if he knows I exist, maybe I should pray in front of him, surely that would attract him." These questions bombarded my heart long after they were asked, and I tried hard to push them down. 

It was by the grace of God that I was able to ignore these questions for a time after dealing with day to day anxiety and heartache of still being single. Through tears at night in conversation to God I would tell Him that this wasn't how I planned it all to go!

Then I met him! Handsome husband came waltzing into my life... well he was boyfriend and fiance first, but it seemed like out of nowhere he appeared, even though I knew him for years as a friend before we ever considered any type of relationship. It wasn't long after our simple commitment became public, and before I knew it family members were asking me if he was the "one", and though I answered that I thought so I really had no idea. The Lord confirmed to me over the course of our relationship that he was in fact the one that had been chosen for me, but even before I could say "I do." there were those who were beckoning me into being a wife long before I had rightfully had been given the title of one. It was hard to have a chance to be girlfriend and fiance when the questions and standards around me were forcing me to think of marriage before it were even an option. 

So then we were married... we have rented a beautiful little apartment, and although we had each other we felt the need to add to our little family. We weren't quite ready yet for parenthood, so we got a dog! And then another! Everything seemed to be going well, but no matter what friend I hadn't seen in months or what family members I had the honor of visiting with, the questions started to come again. The catapulting of titles were thrown onto me that I hadn't been given the honor to carry just yet. This fateful question started just moments after we were married even. Before I could ever see boxers on my floor inside out, before I could ever hear belching after a delicious meal... and before I could ever share my life with this man I just gave my life to. 

At first it didn't bother me because I had asked this quesiton of friends who were recently married too. Innocently enough I had conversations with old roommates about starting a family, while forcefully putting in my two cents of when they should try to have children. It just seems like the natural filler question for couples who have just started their lives together. But little did I realize the damage it was doing to my heart... until recently it was asked of me.

"So, are you pregnant yet? When are you guys going to have children?"

The question hit me hard as I saw an old friend standing in front of me holding her belly with child, and there I was with just my husband and two dogs. And I found myself with my husband at the local grocery store breaking down in the salsa aisle because I wasn't fulfilling my calling as a woman. Now don't get me wrong, I am beyond blessed and overjoyed at what the Lord has given me at this point of my life. But it was as if my heart couldn't help but go there. That dream where I am 24, with a house, husband, two kids and a dog. And then I snap back violently into the present and there is a deep aching in my heart for what I know is a promise yet to come. I have come to realize that these questions have been forcing me to imagine titles and giftings that the Lord hasn't allowed me to step into just yet for whatever reason... and I am learning how to grieve while trying to conceive. I know that while although Jesus has given me hope for tomorrow, I still have to deal with my flesh that desired things long before they were in existance. 

I desire children. They seem so close that I can almost reach out and grab them, but yet it is still not so in my life. You don't have to ask if I want to start a family, or if I am pregnant. I already feel the burden of being a mother, long before my children will ever arrive. This is my purpose in life. 

There needs to be grace for new wives. We need your moments of interest in our lives, and not questions desiring answers that we have no clue how to answer just yet. We know that you are just being kind and caring about what you think fits our best interests, but there are some of us who just haven't gotten there yet. We don't need the title of mother when we are just trying to walk out wife. Or even just girlfriends not yet wives. Questions are good, but just let us soak in who we are created to be for the moment. 

In all Chaos, Peace.

        

How do I find You here? In the midst of the storm, where do I look for You? These gale force winds are knocking me hard. My mind feels more like a bloody battlefield than a storm crossed horizon. While there is beauty in a lightening filled sky... a bloodied field is terrifying. Men die, and families grieve. I'm somewhere between storm tossed and fighting for my very life. The grieving process has already begun.

And all I asked was for revival to come. 

Why doesn't anyone ask these questions? Why aren't more wives grieved over the fact that they don't know how to do it? There's no answers... and my heart is searching hard to find them. Alone. Who cries the crucified ugly cry for revival? 

Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

And so I find myself dying. There is a strange pulling in my heart that says not to let go, that says to maintain the face, maintain the "good life". But in all of the beauty of desiring the Kingdom of Heaven there is an ugly forcefullness that desires a sacrifice. The heave of breath upon the altar that says, "I will gladly spend and be spent..." just for Your Kingdom, oh great King. 

But terrified my eyes look into the horizon. Bright flashes of lightening and peels of thunder nearly split sky from earth. And I am dandelion waving in the wind... seed spent until all is gone. And this is where beauty happens... in all the seeds falling to the ground alone... and I am seed falling to the ground to die. Everything changes so quickly... and before my heart can have time to grieve the time spent as a flower... the sprouts are coming forth. Hundreds of beautiful seeds that died alone, yet now bear forth beautiful flowers. 

It's a beautiful image that passes before my eyes... and although the answers come, so do the questions. There's no book or "how to" on welcoming revival into your home while folding laundry. There's no class or lecture on how to love your husband well while pushing through into the Holy of Holies. And the flesh of my heart would say that I can only do one well... and at the end of the day I choose to love Jesus well in hopes that I would love my husband well. Most voices would spill complements or even suggestions from their lips, but there's no heart of a woman that I know that is pressing in for the answers... how do I steward revival and my home well? If my husband is called to reach the nations... how do I reach our little nation first. This little nation, the tribe of our family. The hearts that will one day mean more to us than any other on this earth. 

Jesus I want to see human trafficking end! I want to see abortion end! I want to see revival in the earth! But I don't want any of those things if I cannot see my family before the throne with eyes beholding Him highly exalted. Our one day family standing upon the sea of glass in adoration to the King. 

How do I find You here in this Jesus? How do I learn to be a mother now? How do I learn to stir up and host revival now? In this place, in my storm. Help me find peace.

An open letter to Moms: Finding peace in the fear.

         

Dear Mom,

I know you're scared... I catch the fear stricken gaze every once in awhile and sense the tremble in your heart that wonders if your love will carry me far enough for long enough. I know you're scared, but everything is going to be okay. Do you know that? It will all be okay. If my heart could paint sentences my love for you would be like your favorite summer morning, sunrise all ablaze against a dark unlit sky. Coral hues and baby blues, shining against the darkness of a night that was rough against my sails. Do you see it? 

I know you've felt inadequate and imperfect, but those moments of uncertainty are some of my favorites. The moments when you didn't quite know it all, but together we figured it out. I was learning to walk wide eyed and alive as a child, and you were learning to walk all wided eyed, opened hearted as a mother. Sometimes my curiosity stretched you thin until you thought you would burst and sometimes you loved me despite the questions that my heart frequently pushed. You didn't have the answers, but I didn't know that. Do you remember the moments when I was a child and you wished me busy just for a moment of peace and quiet? I don't. I only remember those moments of love. Moments where you wished for quiet and I wished for words... and there you loved me well. In grace you held my heart just a moment longer.

You're doing such a beautifully great job. The way you love me so well... you've seen everything in me. You're the one human on this earth that has known me the longest. Your's was the first voice I heard, and your heartbeat was the first that lulled me to sleep as I floated safe in amniotic ocean. These may  not be words your heart dwells on in the midst of chaos and calamity, but they still ring true through the ages. As a child I believed your heart beat for me... as an adult I know it must be true. I catch it in your graceful gaze every once in awhile. 

I know you're afraid that time will get away from you. You see my moments at birthdays, weddings and sometimes funerals. You've seen my first steps, first win, and first kiss... moments held together by the love of a mother. Can you see it yet? Can you see the perfect portrayal of love? Can you see the moments of trying when you didn't know how to love? There He is. He is in the moments of fear giving your heart grace to beat for those curious eyes that look up in question. He is in your words as you reach out for me bruised and broken. He is in your arms as you hold a painful teenage heart... and He is the grace when you forgive me for crying hateful words in your direction. He is the perfect Parent teaching you how to love me well, and there in the heart of the greatest Father... there is a mother! You.

I'm sorry I haven't always had the eloquent words to tell you how I've felt since the first time you ever held me in those warm arms. But it rings true... how I love you! The one who has seen me all, heard me all, and still you love me! In my wickedness still your heart beat for mine... and He stood behind you pushing love hard through you in the moments when you thought you would lose it all. His arms stretched wide to love you more than you could ever love me! What a beatiful display!

So I know you're scared you aren't doing the perfect job. I know the house isn't clean, and dishes aren't done. But there is a greater accomplishment you've made. You have loved me well!

Thank you Mom!

To the moon and back!

Forever your baby. 

Eyes wide like oceans.

Alive? Breath deepening in my lungs, and I almost have to convince myself that I've been doing this since I've left placenta. Breathing. Taking in the next of life, moment by moment. Inhale, exhale. Breathing, living. Sometimes I wonder with eyes wide like oceans if I'm living or just drowning in the overwhelming life. Am I living the full life? Or am I just surviving, barely sitting with chin above surface breathing between waves that take my breath away. Wonder child in me is trying to figure this all out... will you walk with me?

The Man with fire in His eyes once said that He came that we might have life, and life more abundantly. That He came to give the full life. With arms stretched wide on beam wooden and splintered, He intended for life to come coursing through my veins. Do I sometimes squander the full life? My hands fumbling the moment of sunrises more beautiful than paintings from Picasso and I forget... I forget the eucharisteo life. The thanksgiving that brings me into His courts... the thanksgiving that brings the very life into my lungs. In the rare moments when I remember I am like child wild eyed and ablaze with wonder. How did I forget in the first place? 

My memory is like that of a fresh winter powder... beautiful and extravagent, until the sun comes and it's all wiped away. The surrounding heat of the moment melt the beautiful hand stroked painting and I won't remember again until that beautiful fresh cloud hits the earth again... and I wonder why I ever forgot in the first place. Only to forget again. Then cold stinging air hits my lungs and I remember! I want to live!!! I want to live life to the full. I want to live what that Man spoke of. Full life... this time, I won't forget.  I am set free!

Life springs humerous into the mind of created ones, reminding us suddenly to live. Sometimes we find out when our body wrinkles and bones shatter under weight of life, and sometimes we are like babes finding out when the breath in our lungs is still new. No matter the years that life places upon our frames, we are lucky to know... life is meant to be lived! And lived full. Hands are meant to bring healing to wounds deep. Mouths are meant to speak words of forgiveness forever. And eyes are meant to adore every sunset that graces that horizontal frame between earth and sky. And to utter the words between moments of living for thanksgiving to the One who came to give life, and life more abundantly. 

What if today you chose to live?  

Would you remember every moment for thanksgiving? Or would your mind play like eraser on slate forgetting every beautiful stroke of the pen? I dare you today... I dare me... to live life to the full... to inhale deep in the moment of living. I want to know what life smells like, what it looks like and what it sounds like! I want to be like Sherlock around corners with spy glass in hand waiting for the moments that I get to search out the glory of the King. And my pen will find paper, and I will write... thanksgiving to the King! 

What if today you chose to live? 

Though I walk through the valley, it's only a shadow...

God is good. The words of saints, ancient and new born ring loud in my spirit. In the face of tragedy and triumph the words that should resound from burning hearts should be as such. To cry the phrase of Job, or even David. God is good. 

My heart is learning lessons hard this past week as beloved sister passes from earth into eternity. Grace isn't walking faithfully through death and loss, grace is saying at the end of the beginning without her... God is good. To cry from broken heart, "though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me..." The truest test of grace in the midst of losing is this, I am not offended, I choose to worship. 

Tomorrow is this wild girl's birthday and I can only imagine that she would have approached 26 with the same wide eyes as she viewed all of life. It seems as though her common theme of life was how she could love to the full. I can only put imagination to flight now as she is before the God of eternity learning the true fullness of the heavy love, the Agape Himself. And here I know the meaning of the words that man wrote to a tune we all know; bending beneath the weight of Your wind and mercy. How He loves! 

I cannot say with all certainty the thoughts that ran through sweet one's mind as she saw Him for the first time, but I can only imagine that at that moment it was Love. The heart aching, worth writing a million songs for LOVE! The tree bending, ocean rising, mountain dividing love! My heart is not certain of much in trying times, but I am certain of this. She knows love. 

And now I need to know Love. I am learning how to survive without knowing for certain how the Unknown chooses to work. My finite mind says how unfair, and my heart cries pain. But I choose to worship, I choose to praise! Though You slay me, still I choose to worship! My heart aches as I try to comprehend how my earthly second papa might feel right now, and I can see his life as it aligns with parts of a story that I am familiar with, and I heard him utter the words of that man Job. Certainly God's hand is in this! He speaks with wavering tones as tears streak his fatherly form. This man is broken, but there is One who identifies with his brokenness. The man of sorrows, aquatinted with grief! 

Jesus...

So we lean. In misunderstanding, in grief... we lean! And my heart finds solace in the words of C.S. Lewis "I believe in God as I believe in the sun, not because I see it, but because by it I see everything." With unveiled face I see Him, and I lean into the invisible, ever present God who identifies with my pain.

I find peace.