Friday Night at the Beach and a Bug

It's Friday night and I.T. and I are at a beach gazing out at Lake Michigan, kicked back in these really heavy outdoor reclining chairs that I.T. heave hoed from the parking lot all the way down the dune to the water's edge. He is so strong. *smile*

We came here to chill and to read our new book, What Did You Expect by Paul David Tripp.

I.T. and I have been married 23 and 1/2 years. We started out with a bang and by that I mean we started out with a baby. I remember looking at him and thinking: we will never be able to keep this thing alive. He was a 6 pound, pre-mature- ish, yellow from jaundice, helpless, hairy, tiny- faced plop. And we loved him like we never knew we could love anything. Every 2 or so years, we found ourselves with another one of these adorable, moist and mushy bundles of joy- until we had three total kids.

Three total kids = 100% total chaos for as many years as it takes to see the last one eating pancakes in the garage with 150 family members and friends at her graduation breakfast open house.

It is possible for mother and father to lose touch with each other on many levels during this grand adventure of raising kids. Now that this part of our life is basically over, I.T. and I are in the process of getting to know each other again.

The book, What Did You Expect has become, for us, a study forcing us to examine our selfish ways, so we can recognize how these natural tendencies war against the greater good of grace and love and humility. We're realising that God wants something way better for our marriage than we want for it ourselves and we're learning how to go after that higher goal.

As it turns out, if you want to break any destructive patterns in a relationship, you have to actually be willing to admit you were wrong, and say you are sorry-on a regular basis. Likewise you must be willing to forgive. It sounds simple enough. But it is surprisingly difficult to get past pride in order to do either.

I.T. and I are both strong willed and set in our ways. We're each sure we are right and are not able to admit we are wrong, unless it can be proved in a court of law. We both like to be in control. He likes to take care of me and I like to say things like, "I can do it myself" , but then let him take care of me. So these lessons from the book- well- they apply.

Staring at this vast lake, that seems as big as any ocean, since no land is visible except the sandy beach beneath our chairs, I think to myself: we can either keep treading or swim to shore. I'm not a strong swimmer, but I can learn- and improve with practice. I'm the luckiest girl in the world and most blessed, because I'm married to a man who loves me enough to teach me how to swim- taking his own instruction from the Father. We're imperfect, as is our relationship, but we are committed to figuring out how to have a wonderful, meaningful life together- post children.

And just so that you understand that even though we don't have it all together in the area of what comes next for us if it isn't raising a teeny, tiny girl from Africa or doting over a cute new kitty, I'll tell you what happened next...so you will know this: I.T. and I are persuaded beyond measure that the Lord our God, in his infinite wisdom, picked us out for each other....

On the way home from the beach, I started feeling kinda funny- not in a laughing way, but in a maybe-I-have-food-poisoning sort of way. Well. I either did have food poisoning or I had sucked in a flu bug off the beach. Friday night into Saturday morning was an awful mess, as my insides took a walk on the wild outside. I.T. spent hours tending to me and cleaning up untold horrors. Neither of us could ever remember a time when I was that ill. Twenty hours later I am still only sipping an ounce of purple Gatorade every 30 minutes....and it is I.T. who keeps refilling my empty cup.

....and we will serve Him with gladness and thanksgiving, as we learn together to serve each other.