Resolutions and Husbands and Me and God, But Mostly God.

Like any good hipster, I am not interested in jumping on the New Years Resolution band wagon. I like to think that I am always striving to be better, regardless of the time or year, even when I am clearly doing nothing short of being completely mediocre in all areas of my life. But that to say, I am still human and the reality of a whole new year and the freshness of January first does prompt a sense of motivation I would have surely lost somewhere within the current year.

Nothing says a blank slate like the first page, first square of a calendar. Even those of us who are "realist's" aka pessimists, cannot help but muster even the slightest shred of hope about the impending possibilities waiting to be found in a whole new year.

From where I sit, conversations and social media project a wide range of thoughts about a new year and resolutions. We have people who are vehemently against any sort of resolution particularly in the diet department, coupled with those who have put all their new years eggs in one little diet basket. We have those who starting posting "Oh great, new year new you blahblahblah" memes in the wee hours of December first. There are people who are STOKED to have that fresh start and really do have huge plans and huge intentions to make 2015 THE BEST YEAR EVER and those that fall just somewhere in the middle.
I do think though, that it is safe to say that we ALL feel something about a new year, particularly if the current year left something to be desired.

To be honest with you, I do have some "plans", and I like that word because it feels less daunting than resolution. If I make plans and they get broken, I can always re-make them right away. If I make a resolution and that falls through, it feels so final. Like I have to wait for a whole new year to try again. They are pretty run of the mill:

I DO need to take better care of my body and I have what is essentially a diet in place to kick that off. No, I don't plan on yo-yo dieting all year, but I know that I need something with structure to get me back on the right path, which I have walked so many times on and off in my life. Do I plan on Facebooking every time I drop an inch or pound or find myself drenched in sweat? No. This is my business, for me and my long term health.

I DO need to get off of my damn phone. I really am entertaining the idea of trading my iphone for some Walmart flip thing via '99 so that the options just aren't even there. It is too convenient and there is too much at my fingertips and I am missing portions of my life simply because I am bored and rather than engaging other real humans I am crushing candy or aimlessly scrolling social media. I also seem to live only in black and white so getting rid of the phone would be much more reasonable for me than practicing "moderation", whatever THAT is. This whole phone thing, and not being on it will in and of itself give me more time with my family so basically I have two birds down with one stone in this little gem. 

There are a lot of other things I can and should work on, today, tomorrow, January first and then everyday after, but these are my two "basic" things (insert Starbucks red cup here). However, I didn't actually write this post to tell you my things, it just happened to have worked out that way. I actually wrote to tell you about my one big thing. The thing I hadn't planned on or thought about at all until yesterday morning in a church service. I guess by telling you that other stuff, the stuff we can all identify with, I am hoping that this seems just as grabable. I think I just made that word up but I am going with it. 

grab-ab-el; adjective; able to be grabbed

"The chocolate cake was grabable from my seat on the couch."

Okay so let me paint this picture for you- I may be a little all over the place so just follow as best you can. 

My husband never comes to church. He really truly really dislikes everything about it. Even the VERY few times he has happened to not mind the preacher at whatever place I attend, he still doesn't like it. He is visibly uncomfortable and fidgety most of the time. He stands when they say do so, he bows his head when he is supposed to and then he thanks whatever god- the god of motorcycles and Snap-On tools and cheescake bites- when the whole thing is over and he can just get out the door. The man hates church.

And it isn't just church. He is a complete unbeliever, as in, he only believes in today and in himself and in me and beyond that he has no opinion or desire to form one.

Now, in my 11 years of marriage I have been all over the board in my conversations, feelings and thoughts about and with God concerning all of this. I am sure you can imagine. I range somewhere between "God can do all things" and "God will never do anything" concerning my husband. Even though clearly God has done MANY things in this man (whether he calls it God or not), really is besides the point when I am dealing with the "God will never do anything" moment.

So I say all this to talk about yesterday. My husband comes to church because my family was visiting and we planned on heading out to do some other things after and it would have been completely geographically inconvenient to come back to the house to get him and then back past where the church is to go out. I literally had to work to convince him of this, and then when he fully planned on sitting in the car the whole time, I had to convince him how ridiculous that would make him seem to everyone, until he agreed and bit the bullet. Also, to his credit, he really is very graceful about the whole thing. I don't know that I would be so subdued feeling forced to attend some showing of something that I generally hated every moment of. So we got him a coffee and made fun of the stage set up (because it was a little ridiculous), and instead of standing during all of worship I sat with my arm hooked through his and my head resting on his shoulder.

Now, at some point during the last song he started tapping his foot, an almost subconscious response to music. But it was in this moment that God spoke directly to my heart. You see I had just had a conversation with my mom about Travis, and how I just felt like he may or may not ever find Jesus. Now this very well may be true, but as his wife, who is believing for ALL THINGS, those words simply should not have come out of my mouth. And so as his foot tapped, I had this moment with God, where I was reminded that Travis is vulnerable even if only subconsciously and although he may seem like an impossible, unmovable, unsculpturable rock sometimes- God is God of the whole universe and really can do ANY THING. 

This seems like it is about Travis, but it isn't, it is about me. 

I make God so small. I make boxes, all shapes and sizes and place God in whichever one I think feels appropriate given the day I am having. I don't think mustard seed is even small enough for some of my faith issues a lot of the time. I know God is huge, and I know He made all of these promises and I know the fulfilling of them will usually look so different than what we imagine, but somewhere along the line I think I sort of stopped believing He would fulfill them at all. And I think this comes from a combo of a lack of faith as well as the inability to accept grace. 

He isn't going to fulfill promises because I deserve them, or pray hard enough for them or do enough good things to earn them, He is going to fulfill them simply because I am His kid and He loves me. But I have to trust that. I have to believe that, and in many areas lately, I just haven't.

So I leave you with this:

I DO need to stop putting God in a box. He is GOD, which means He is nothing like me or anyone else I know. Just because I let myself down, and other people let me down does not mean that God will. It isn't about my time, it isn't about the way I think things should go, but it is all about HIS ultimate sovereignty over my life and the fact that no matter what it looks like this side of eternity He is ALWAYS working for my good. 

I DO need to stop conforming to the cultural idea that "realism" is somehow some far shot from "pessimism". Neither of the above fall in line with hope and faith and as icky and troublesome as naivety may be, it is never naive to believe in Gods best for me.

And God does have a best for me. And my motorcylce-Snap On-cheesecake husband. And you too. 

All the best for 2015 friends.

Because Jesus.

I should not be who and where I am today.
It does not make sense that I am not an addict.
It does not make sense that I have had the ability to partner in making my marriage last the past 11 years.
It does not make sense that I have somehow been the kind of mom I feel proud to say I am. 
It does not make sense that I have been able to come of psychiatric drugs.
It does not make sense that I have had the foresight to make good decisions, lasting good decisions, rather than feeding momentary desires and whims.

I see people, mostly "friends" on Facebook, consistently posting about their lives in what someone might call manic patterns. They seem to waver somewhere between riding cloud nine and falling completely apart. The cloud nines are usually when there is another person, generally of the opposite sex, introduced into the picture, or if they are cut slack at work, or on their way to partake in what I will call "adult fun". The fall aparts come when life happens. Money gets tight, cars break down, jobs become insecure. There doesn't ever seem to be middle for these folks and if there is it is so short lived.

And I get it. I get it because the only difference between them and me, is Jesus.

The only reason I am not constantly broken, is Jesus.
The only reason that I don't need to self medicate, is Jesus.
The only reason I can even recognize self medicating for what it is, is Jesus.
The only reason I don't waiver constantly on the edge of depression and the overwhelming weight of how unfair life is, is Jesus.
The only reason I am capable to see past what will make me happy right this moment, and to what will be lasting and worthwhile, is Jesus.

I know for certain some of the people I am talking about would immediately turn their nose up at this. Or better yet, make a joke that excuses any Creator, and certainly any Savior and for all sorts of reasons. They have unexplainable pain in both past and present. They like scienctific theories better than religious ones. There are SO many reasons for a distaste towards God, but I would bet money that one of the biggest ones, probably tied with the whole "If God was real why did He allow this...", is simply that people don't want to believe they are their own problem.

We don't want to admit that we came into this world selfish and need any help to be something else.
We don't want to admit that the choices we make on our own may not be what is actually best for us.
We don't want to submit anything.
We want to be God.

But it doesn't work very well.
It isn't a solid long term plan.

I know this because no matter how awesome and happy and stoked and hoorah these people are, I have seen them at their worst and their worst is so hopeless.

The only reason my worst isn't hopeless, is Jesus.

And don't get it twisted. It isn't because I follow a set of rules. It isn't because I read my Bible everyday, because I don't. It isn't because I go to church on Sundays. It isn't because I am constantly praying myself forgiven of sin.

It is simply because I believe the history that was written about a man called Jesus. Not just because of the documentation, but because I have experienced the absolute love of a God who would do anything to make sure I understood what hope was, and that I had access to it.

I lived unfair in my past and I still live it. I feel the weight of depression and anxiety in a way that is debilitating some days. I think terrible, awful thoughts about all sorts of people and things all the time. I am just like every lost, hurt, angry, broken sinner out there.

However, I see the difference in my life and theirs.

And the only variable is Jesus.

You can laugh and scoff at God and religion all day. But when you see me, and how far I have come and how much I have grown and how blessed I have been- don't you dare contribute it to anything other than that one moment in time when I acknowledged that a Savior was born to two nobody people, in a nobody place.