The Story of Us: Part 9

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

One weekend, Luke and I were laying in the bed talking about baby things. Okay, I was talking and he was probably clawing is eyes out. I wasn't even through my first trimester and EVERYTHING was about the baby. As we laid there, I thought to myself,

"We can't do this alone. We can't just raise this baby alone. We need a plan. We need direction. We need something bigger than us."

I was finishing up my first trimester when we went to the new members class at our church. I was still very apprehensive about this whole church thing. I mean, I knew there was a God, but I just didn't think that he cared about me and my day to day life. I figured he was of solving much bigger issues like World Hunger or Cancer. Nonetheless, Luke and I wanted to see what this church was all about. It was a Baptist Church and I had particular issues with the fact that women could not be considered for deacons.

Poor Bob (he's one of the associate pastors at our church), I think I really gave him a hard time. I kept harping and asking questions about why women couldn't be considered deacons and how was that Biblical. I had "came" from a Methodist church where there was a woman minister. Who did these Baptists think they were? Regardless of my attitude, we actually did make some friends that day. Sarah and Luke bonded over the love of mint chocolate chip ice cream and Phil and I bonded over our hatred of such nastiness. They invited us to their newly married Sunday School class. In there, we made even more friends.

Although I still had my guard up, these people seemed normal. They weren't perfect either and most of them were actually a lot like me. I was shocked.

Some Christians have a defining date, a moment that they KNEW that they had met their Savior. I don't have one of those stories. For me, just like with every other relationship I've had, falling in love with my Lord was a process. Slowly, things in me began to change.

I had a hard time letting go of my past, letting go of the dirtiness that plagued my heart. I kept waiting for the proverbial "other shoe" to drop and for God to really let me have it. I cannot pinpoint for you the moment I realized that my God is one that loves me for who I am, despite my countless failures, but the peace that came with that knowledge was overwhelming.

Just days before my second trimester began, Luke and I decided to join Rich Fork. As we walked forward, my heart raced. I didn't fully understand what this meant, but I knew I liked this place and these people. Since Luke had grown up in the church, he had been baptized as a middle schooler. I was baptized at 10, but remembered virtually nothing about it. With our joining the church, I decided to be re-baptized.

With Elizabeth growing inside of me, I publicly declared my belief in Jesus Christ and followed through with baptism. Once more, the change was not instantaneous for me. Slowly, God began working on my heart and our marriage.

I still didn't understand the whole "Christian" thing, and I had several moments of doubt. However, I began to understand what my BFF Amanda had said about a 3 strand cord. That 3rd strand had been missing in our marriage.

In it's absence, dishonesty, mistrust and confusion stood in its place. Now that God was that 3rd strand, the mistrust began to fade. I no longer felt the overwhelming desire to check Luke's email, browse through his call history on his cell phone or look in his car for signs of her. As pain from the past faded, it opened up new possibilities for Luke and me. We could now freely talk about things of the past, things we loved about our childhood, high school years and how we had experienced life. So much of that had been forbidden territory because of the jealousy and hurt that I felt each time our pasts were brought up.

Now, almost 6 years and 5 kids since our wedding day, I cannot imagine my marriage without God as the center. I've come to realize that God is loving and caring and, most of all, my Father. I see that Luke and I NEED God as that center strand, so that we can be held together. I cling to Him with the knowledge that He is the reason my marriage works. Without hesitation, I can say that had I NOT come to a deeper understanding of God and Christ, my marriage would not still exist.

The fear, mistrust and pain that used to burden my heart and from which I carried such baggage, has been taken up by the One who understands all pain. Our marriage isn't perfect, and neither am I. In fact, in writing this story of us, I must be honest in telling you that I have not picked up my Bible in almost 3 weeks. Yes, we still struggle in a lot of areas.

However, our marriage used to be bound by love. I have found that love can fade. Our marriage used to be bound by the physical. One day, the physical WILL fade (sad, but true). Our marriage used to be bound by fear. Fear that if we didn't make it, it would scar us forever. Fear is paralyzing. Now, our marriage is held together by the One who is the strongest binding agent available.

All those times that I desired to be rescued were not in vain. I have been rescued. I have been ransomed. I have been bought at a price. Our marriage has been saved. I love seeing how, each day, God makes our marriage new. He takes the bad, the good and the just plain ugly and weaves it together for His glory. He reveals His miraculous mysteries in ways that I could have never imagined. The contentment I feel within my heart and my marriage is like nothing I've ever felt before. It cannot be of the flesh, it must be of the Spirit.

I am not perfect, I am incredibly and exhaustingly flawed. I deserve to live in continual pain, but because of grace I have been rescued.

On August 3, 2004 we welcomed our first daughter into the world. Then, on May 30, 2006 Lucas and Ashlee joined our family. June 6th of this year our precious Baby D was born and on October 9th, Baby Girl was born.

Although "Our Story" is far from over, this is the point in the game where most of you already know our lives. Somehow, Luke and I manage to keep our marriage first. Above all else I have prayed that God would allow us to preserve our marriage through these hectic years. God continues to show His goodness. He has molded Luke into the wonderful husband and father that I am blessed by daily. And, He's even done some work on me, making me more humble, self-sacrificing and less anxious.

I pray that if you have gleaned nothing else from our story, that you have come to know us a little better. I hope that you have seen that our pasts are far from perfect and our "love story" is anything but a fairy tale. In the years that we have been together we have cried many tears, buried a few loved ones and mostly just grown up. It is my prayer that you will see us for who we are, incredibly flawed, hopelessly imperfect and totally surrendered to a mighty God.


As you read over what I have written to you, you'll be able to see for yourselves into the mystery of Christ. ....The mystery is that people who have never heard of God and those who have heard of him all their lives .... stand on the same ground before God. They get the same offer, same help, same promises in Christ Jesus. The Message is accessible and welcoming to everyone, across the board.


Ephesians 3:4-6, The Message

The Story of Us: Part 8

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Our wedding was a blast. All of our friends from college and high school came all the way to North Carolina in a tremendous display of support. Looking back, I think I just sort of expected it. Now I realize just how blessed we were to have so many people who cared about us and our marriage.

During the toasts at the wedding reception, my BFF Amanda said something that struck me. I don't remember it word for word, but she said that if we had God in our marriage it would last forever. She said something about a cord with 3 strands being strong. I brushed it off. I mean, Luke and I had made it through some pretty hard stuff without God. Why in the world would I need him now that we were married?

When we returned from our honeymoon, our friends weren't there. Married life was not what I expected. I was working as a 3rd grade teacher and Luke was traveling North & South Carolina, Georgia and parts of Tennessee. He would usually leave on Monday and return of Friday. I was lonely.

On the weekends, Luke and I had pity parties for ourselves. The only friends we had were my parents' friends. They were great, but they weren't OUR friends. Over the course of 3-4 months we contemplated moving back to Arkansas. Each time we talked about it, my heart would pound. I didn't want to be near her, I couldn't.

Finally, we made some great friends. They were good people and we spent every waking minute with them. We would go out every night of the weekend and life was great. THIS is what married life was all about. However, we didn't have that 3 strand cord.

It was Halloween night 2003. We were out partying, like usual. The night started off great and ended with the separation (and ultimately divorce) of our best friends. I was heartbroken.

That night, after visiting my girlfriend and seeing their emptied out house, I sat on the front steps of our home with Luke. I began to sob. It was the kind of crying where you just can't stop. The kind that rocks you to your inner core. I had never experienced sympathy like this before.

These were good people. They weren't "those" people. They were just like us. Then, it hit me. If they were just like us, what was keeping our marriage alive? What would keep us together?

I turned to Luke and asked him,

"Does this mean we are next? How do we keep this from happening?"

We muddled through the next few days, uncertain about how this could happen to people we loved, how this could happen to people who were good.

Two weeks later, Luke and I were laying in our bed. It was a weekend and I just had the strangest feeling. I got up, went into the bathroom and took a pregnancy test.

"LUKE! Can you come here please?" my trembling voice came from the bathroom.

"Yeah?" he said, walking in.

In disbelief, I pointed to the stick on the counter. "Does that say what I think it says?"

Wide eyed, we both just stood there.

Positive. I was pregnant. I was on the pill and I was pregnant. How does that happen? (I KNOW how it happens, you don't have to tell me.)

I LOST it. I cried and cried and cried.

Luke couldn't wipe that stupid grin off his face.

We were NOT ready to be parents. We had no money (haha, that's funny now), and this was not planned.

As I buried my head and sobbed into my husband's chest, he lovingly rubbed my arms and told me,

"You're going to be a wonderful mother."

Yeah, right.

Over the next few days, I had the worst abdominal pain imaginable. I went to the doctor SURE that I was having a miscarriage. After an ultrasound and lots of reassurance from the doctor, I left, with pictures to prove that I had a healthy baby (read: dot) inside of me.

As I drove home from the doctor, doubt flooded my mind.

"You can't do this. You're not ready. You haven't even been married a year. What if your marriage ends too? Where is your security?"

Then the big one,

"You don't deserve this baby. God will take it from you to repay you for all of the sexual sin you've had. Don't get attached."

For the entire first trimester I held my breath, waiting for something awful to happen. I shared my concerns with Luke, but I think he chalked it up to pregnancy hormones. He did, however, suggest we go to church.

What you may not know about my story is the excessiveness to which I offered my body in almost every previous relationship I'd had. Now that I was pregnant, I just knew God would punish me because of my mistakes. After all, God is a punishing God. He is self-righteous, and judgmental and ready to harshly remind me that I am wrong. He is stern, and coarse and unloving. For God to really love you, you must be one of those churchy people who never messes up. They've never had sex before marriage, they've never drowned their pains with alcohol, they've certainly never lived the life I have lived.

Apprehensive, Luke and I visited several churches in our area. Scared by a few of them (that's a whole post within itself), our last effort was at Rich Fork. We had visited a long time ago, and I wasn't that impressed. But, I figured why not?

We walked in and I knew it was obvious to everyone why we where there. We were the new people, clearly the hugest sinners in town. These people could see through my smile, surely they could judge my past with just a simple glance in my direction.

We took a seat and soon realized that the usual preacher was out sick. On stage was the (then) youth pastor. I wish I could say that the words he said stirred my heart and that day I gave my life to the Lord. Such was not the case. The truth is, the only thing I remember about that Sunday was that he held the microphone on his chin the entire time he spoke. It annoyed the crap out of me.

However, something about these people seemed more normal. We were not asked to stand, so that everyone could see we were new (and in my mind, mock us). We were not later called nor did we have hand written notes in our mailboxes (seriously, one church came to our house). In fact, we just sort of came and blended in.

I had heard preachers tell me that Jesus died for me. I had heard them say that I could be clean. Surely these preachers did not know my past. Certainly they hadn't seen where I had been. However, over time, something in me began to hurt. As the weeks went by, I hurt more and more. It was a hurt I could not explain. A physical and emotional pain beyond anything I had experienced. Now, I know where the hurt was coming from. It was coming from the One who had felt my hurt before, and He was drawing me to Him, begging me to come.