Lovely Weekend

"You are all fair, my love, and there is no spot in you."

Song of Solomon 4:7

This is actually more intimate (at least to me) than I usually share on the blog. But for some reason I feel compelled to share it anyway. I feel like someone needs to read it.

This pregnancy has been so difficult--emotionally, spiritually, and physically. I pretty much have felt like a train wreck. I have felt like a failure in so many ways of late. I was starting to think something was seriously wrong with me.

I threw a tantrum with the Lord a week or two ago. I told Him that it wasn't fair that God answered everyone else's prayers, but not mine. I told Him that I felt like I wasn't important to Him. I was like a D-list follower, despite trying to make His A-list. I felt so disconnected from Him.

This weekend I went away on a Women's Retreat with our church. On the first evening the speaker spoke about giving birth. There was so much comfort and revelation in what she had to say. After the message those that wanted to just laid on the floor and "soaked." The pastors and speaker walked around and were sort of our spiritual doulas as we birthed whatever God was giving to us. They encouraged us and spoke comfort to us. I just laid there for a bit weeping. Not a gut wrenching kind of birthing cry. Rather, it was like I finally had slowed down long enough to realize the weight and stress I had been carrying. The tears just came as a release.

Early the next morning I walked to the top of hill to a scenic view of a valley. I sat there alone and just breathed it all in. And God said, "By the way, Daja, I made this all for you."

Then I came down the mountain to worship time. We were singing the song, "Beautiful One." Do you know it? "Beautiful One, I love! Beautiful One, I adore! Beautiful One, my soul must sing!" I was sitting on the floor singing it and all of a sudden God started singing it to me! I know that might sound strange to some readers. But, I am not joking. God sang it to me. I literally could not move. Tears just streamed down my face as God sang to me that I was His beautiful one!

So, I've been reading in Song of Solomon how often the Beloved praises the Bride and calls her his lovely one, his fair one. And God brought the above verse to me. And spoke to me that there was nothing wrong with me. There was no spot in me. I am not a failure. I am His beloved. I've captured His heart.

And God brought woman after woman to me this weekend who spoke so much truth and revelation to me. I feel like my soul has been watered.

The view God made for me.

(Photo courtesy of Alhatti's website, where the retreat was held.)

A Father's Day Meditation

Pastor Che spoke this morning about glory and honor. As a sort of side bar, he mentioned something that really spoke to me. When Christ was baptized by John the Baptist the Father spoke audibly from heaven, "This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased."

I've always thought, "Well, of course. What is there not to be well pleased in in Jesus." I've also always thought that that would be a wonderful thing to hear at the end of my days when I stand before the Lord. One of those things that inspires me to run a good race.

However, when the Father spoke this over the Son, Jesus had not yet performed any miracles (at least none that are recorded). He had not preached any public sermons. His official public ministry had not yet begun.

This speaks something very important: God's approval is not based on my performance.

That's really something to chew on for anyone who has people-pleasing tendencies.

Another good Father's Day Meditation here.

And HAPPY FATHER'S DAY to my dad, who loves me unconditionally and never misses an opportunity to publicly show that he's proud of me. You've been a good example, Dad, of how the Heavenly Father sees me.

Being Pro-Life

This holiday weekend the kids and I (Daja) drove up to the Central Coast to visit Papa and Nana. That's a long trip for one adult and five little children! I told the kids to go potty before we left home because I was NOT going to stop. Well.......about an hour into the trip that big cup o' joe that I drank started to get to me. I tried to wait. But, round about Lost Hills (which is a little over 1 hour from our destination) I could not hold it another minute. So, we pulled into the Pilot and I took all five children into the handicap stall. When we all came out of the stall there were two women who looked at me aghast and I heard them mumbling-grumbling about all my kids. Clearly not in the mood for the rude vibe, I said, "Yes, just look at us! We're like clowns at the circus coming out of a little car." That took care of that. They put their eyes back in their head.



We don't live in a very child friendly world.



But, on to the main point of this post. When I make this trip I listen to Catholic Radio most of the way. Sure, I could listen to something "Positive and Encouraging" but it puts me to sleep! My favorite LA talk station goes out around Bakersfield. But, the Catholic station takes me all the way. It's thought-provoking, prayful and interesting. (I respect the Catholic Church. I am not Catholic, though.)



Anyway, I listened to the praying of the Pro-Life Rosary. There were a couple lines that really stood out to me: "Lord, I offer these three Hail Mary's for an increase in Faith, Hope, and Love in all people so that all people will always CHOOSE LIFE, and I also offer them in reparation for the suffering you endure each time an unborn babe is killed, each time someone is euthanized, each time death overcome life in this world. Amen."



When the announcer said that they would be praying the Pro-Life Rosary, I immediately thought of abortion. I did not automatically think of the chronically ill, the elderly, and those with limited mental capacity who are euthanized.



I realized afresh that being pro-life is a lot more than being anti-abortion. Being PRO-LIFE means you stand for LIFE over death anytime there is a face-off between the two.



Perhaps a lot of people who call themselves pro-life may actually be anti-abortion.



What does it mean to stand for LIFE and to take the side of LIFE? What does it mean for life to overcome death in this world?



I think of issues of birth control and actively preventing life. I think of the death penalty and how I have accepted it without really examining it. I think of all those expecting couples having genetic testing so that they can end things if the baby isn't perfect. I think of babies in test tubes--humans without a womb to grow in. I also think of those forgotten people who we forget are real people with real feelings. It's so easy to dismiss the humanity of the unwashed person on the corner willing to work for food. It's easy to dismiss the depth of feeling felt by a tiny child watching his parents quarrell. We don't realize that the elderly person who just wants to ramble about the first car they owned in 1932 or the price of gas is craving for human contact. "Someone please acknowledge my humanity!!"



Another part of the Rosary: "Lord Jesus, I thank you for your incarnation in our human flesh. You were formed in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Your humanity at the moment of your conception gives us, each and every one, humanity at the moment of our conception. Had Satan had His way, you too would have been torn from your mothers womb, never to be born, and never to fulfill your destiny in the particular manner in which you did fulfill it. "



My grandfather, Dale, whom we named Ihbeleg Dale after, has slipped further into an isolated world. He is blind in one eye and as he says he "can't see out of the other", is hard of hearing, doesn't get around well without his walker or wheel chair. Because he doesn't make proper conversation anymore, unless one wants to drift from hearing the name of the horse he rode as a child to what his first house looked like in the same sentence. And so it's easy to not make the attempt at conversation. But, I got to thinking....what would it be like to not have someone talk to you anymore? What would it be like to sit in the rocker all day, seeing the TV on, but not hearing it, not having a job or function, not able to get one's own coffee or drive yourself to the market. Worst of all, not being able to read the Bible anymore! How long the days must be. How lonely!



So, while visiting my grandparents this weekend, I took some time to pull up a chair right near my grandpa's ear and I read (or rather, shouted) the Bible to him. He smiled and thanked me, probably quite surprised. I kissed his rough cheek. I love him, even though I probably haven't taken the time to engage him and interact with him in a long time.



It was a pro-life weekend as I meditated on all this as well as these parts of the rosary: "I also offer each "white/clear" 'Hail Mary' for the mothers and fathers of these aborted little ones, that they may receive the grace ot repent of this sin, turn to Jesus, and receive the gift of salvation with open hearts. Heal them of the emotional and psychological wounds that this sin has caused as you pour out the graces of conversion upon them. Let them now witness for life! Amen"



How often do I pray for the babies and how little I pray for the healing of the mothers and fathers! If I am pro-life, where is my acknowledgement of their humanity?



"The black beads are symbolic for the entire medical profession that participates in pro-death activities. All doctors, nurses, and assistants, helpers of every type that contribute to abortion, euthanasia, anti-life practices of every sort. Every "Clear/white" 'Hail Mary' is for their conversion, repentance, and courage in standing against this crimson tide of death! Pray: Lord Jesus; Mother Mary, in this decade I offer reparation for all the sins of the medical personnel that act in the interest of death in our society and in our world. I plead also for their conversion to your truth. Let them see the truth of what they are doing, see the horror of it, rend their hearts in repentance, then work for Life and for you Jesus, all the rest of their days. Amen."



And what about these? These are real people, too. They aren't other-worldly monsters. They are souls for whom Christ died! They need our prayers, too. If I am pro-life, I must admit that Jesus loves the abortionist, too.



It's humbling to take oneself off that pedestal of the mind and realize that God loves me and God loves the abortionist.



Christ came to save sinners. That's the Good News. And that is the best pro-life statement there is.



"O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" I Corinthians 15:55

A Conversation With The Lord

“I want to love You more.” I said to the Lord.

“If you would love Me more, you must know Me.” He said.

“I do know You, Lord.”

“You do not know Me until You know that I am holy.”

“I know that You are holy, Lord.”

“You know it when can you see yourself through My holiness. Are you willing?”

“Yes, Lord.”

And the Lord showed me myself. The sting of every word spoken in anger, the ugliness of every slander whether I said it in my heart or from my lips, the repulsiveness of every ungodly fantasy lingered upon was shown me. I smelled the foul stench of my lust, fear, unbelief and scorn. I heard the true sounds of my half-hearted and polluted praise. Every incidence of hypocrisy was laid bare. I was exposed for the fraud I was. I was naked and ashamed.

I forgot all about asking God to love Him more. I could not even begin to think of coming near Him. He would never receive me. I closed my eyes, pleading inside that I would no longer have the lenses of holiness.

“Open your eyes,” the Lord said. “See My holiness.”

I cried out, “Lord, I cannot bear it!”

“Open your eyes, Child.”

I opened my eyes and my filth was being washed away. Every injury, every sin, every rebellious act of violence against God was removed. Jesus Himself clothed me and my shame was no more. And I saw that holiness was beautiful.

“I love you more, Lord!” I cried.

“The one who is forgiven much loves much,” He said.

Gana's Testimony

Gana had to write a theological reflection on his conversion for a class. Here it is:



In order to understand my conversion, I must first give some background information. I was born in 1973 in Ulaanbaatar, the capital city of Mongolia. My country still had 18 years to survive under the Socialist-Communist regime of the Soviet occupation. My education, entertainment and indeed everything I saw, heard, and did was somehow wrapped up in the government and the ideology of communism and the social community. Communist propaganda banners were everywhere proclaiming that communism is all the good there is, that we are doing extremely well economically, although it did not take much to find something broken or undone. Everyone basically wore the same clothes. Faces never showed joy and suspicion of each other was in the air. School and work were the only activities in life, yielding the same gain as everyone else every year no matter how hard one worked. Families were strangers to intimacy and just existed for the society; children and parents did not belong to each other but to the society. Everyone’s life and future could be predicted with accuracy of each day.





In addition to all this, during the years under communism Mongolia had no access to the Gospel or any form of Christianity. It was kept closed so tight that there was no evangelistic activity in the streets. There were no meetings even house-to-house involving more than ten people. There are no records of any conversions or church plants. In 1991 communism crumbled in Mongolia and with its demise came an opportunity for missionaries to bring the Gospel into Mongolia.



In September 1991 a new friend from school invited me to this strange group of people who met on Sundays. I had never heard of people meeting on Sundays for any reason. My curiosity was piqued. At first my visits were driven by sheer inquisitiveness. Soon my motivation shifted to my desire to satisfy my soul with long-awaited truth. I still remember how anxious I was to hear more of that truth each week! I kept coming back for more!



However, over a year later I found myself leaving the church. There was a strong reason for that. I realized that I could not stop doing what I wanted to do and I was doing things I did not want to do. It was a stage where I knew that the very things I did were the very things God hated and hurt His heart. The last thing I wanted to do was to be another hypocrite that I had observed all my life under communism. I hated it.



At the same time it was hard to just stop doing the only things I knew how to do! I knew how to drink vodka. I knew how to have sex. I knew how to lie. I knew how to fight. I knew how to cheat. But, inside I was just another person who had been searching for meaning, peace, love, and above all, the truth. During my rebellion my parents tried everything to help me, including dragging me to the Buddhist temple. I was full of fear to be killed by the enemies I had made. I still remember always checking the stairwell in my apartment for minutes to make sure it was safe to go up—that somebody was not waiting to hurt me, especially when I learned that my best friend had joined some other group’s side and plotted to kill me. When I realized it was my best friend who was behind the stabbing of my body, I was lost to a greater extent than ever before. I questioned everything. When I did question things I could see the truth about God in contrast to myself and my condition. I did not like the picture I was seeing and the situation I was in. But I could not help myself. I could not become a better person and just change my life on my own. I tried, thinking I was supposed to do it all myself just like any other religion. And I could not. I felt unworthy to be in His Church. I felt disappointed that I could not connect my need with God’s help. The fact that God is alive and He is the one who will transform my life was unfamiliar up to this point. I thought I was supposed to perform and I knew I could not. That frustrated me even more.



While I ran from church, I did read a New Testament, which was the only Mongolian Bible there was! Up to this point, no one had shared the Gospel with me, even though I had known the church and its people for about a year and a half. Most likely this had to do with the fact that there were not many who could share the Good News. Everyone was trying to understand this new God for themselves. During this time away from the church I managed to pray honestly for the first time. First an inner connection began to be established. In my time alone my heart was bombarded with the battle over my life. God won and I returned to church. I have stayed in church since that day.



In 1993 a handful of Christian churches decided to host the first Christian music festival. Somewhere twenty minutes from the beginning something unexpected and strange happened. I started feeling this unbearable boiling deep inside my heart. I cried like a baby—a baby crying in front of his father, who was listening very carefully and receiving him with open arms. My tears were bitter but my very being wanted to keep crying that way. It was the first time I felt I was being heard, the first time my deepest thoughts and feelings were let out to someone who understood me! It was my first time encountering a manifestation of God. To this day I can recall what was going through my mind. Part of me was quite ashamed of what was happening as I was the only guy in the crowd crying hysterically while some joyful song was being played. The other half of me was telling and indeed begging me to let it happen. It was a controllable uncontrolled event in my life. Now I know for sure that it was His allowing me to encounter His Fatherhood. The Spirit of adoption came into me. Even before I understood God’s love through an understanding of Christ dying for me, I knew that God loved me as a Father loves a son.



In that same year I slowly came to realization that He is the God of whole universe. I learned little-by-little about repenting from my evil, sinful, and definitely helpless nature and receiving Jesus as my God. To be honest, I never truly understood at that time the meaning and application of His death. I just knew that what He did was for me—unanticipated and totally undeserved. This knowledge caused me to transfer my allegiance from myself, leading my life in the pointless way I previously did, to God and His plan for my future. God gave me a discomfort with my sin and even a dislike for the expressions of my sinful being—drinking, fighting, sex and hurting others. In fact, God miraculously delivered me from alcoholism in an instant and I’ve never been in bondage to it again. My awareness of sin was increasing, yet believing that I was saved then was another struggle. It had a lot to do with church tradition which emphasized the possibility of not getting saved even if one came to Christ and how no one knew for sure if one was saved or not. However, in 1994 that I met a missionary from India who taught me of God’s simple and mighty salvation plan. Although salvation may require a human response, it is that “power of God unto salvation for everyone who believes” that is not shaken when the human belief shakes. My eyes were opened and my heart was relieved again. I learned that God is the author of the salvation process and He does not do a haphazard or weak job. I merely had to do my part in the conversion process, as a participant in the covenant. He has already accomplished His part of the covenant on the cross! I believe to this day, fourteen years since my conversion, that there was nothing that I did to help myself get saved or to be chosen.



Just being saved was not enough for me in comparison to what my salvation meant to me. In gratitude I gave God all my plans for the future. I had to dedicate my whole life to His service.






Theological Interpretation of My Conversion Experience



First of all, whether immediate or long-term, conversion is a miracle process. It involves many wonders, much excitement, and hidden truth operating behind the scenes. Overall, my conversion was a process that spanned almost three years. Two events stand out as life-changing that served to awaken and speed the conversion process. The first event was the night in the concert hall where I encountered the love of Father God. The second was encountering the advocate from India and being assured of my salvation.



Although the crisis I had been in was enough to break my pride, without a quest for truth the stage of encounter would, most likely, not have been successful. The encounter stage not only gave me an opportunity to interact with authentic Christianity, it was also food and water to my soul in my search for the knowledge of God.



The process was not one of being converted again and again, but rather realizing what had already happened and what He had already done for me. It had and still does its deconstructive and reconstructive work. Orlando E. Costas described it well: Christian conversion is a “journey into the mystery of the kingdom of God, which leads from one experience to another.”[1] There is much to know and much to understand in reflecting on what happened and why. One thing I do know is that He did it for me on the cross.



[1] Orlando E. Costas, “Conversion as a Complex Experience,” Gospel in Context 1, No. 3, 1978, 16.

Good Friday Meditation from Gana

The criminal hanging next to Jesus on the cross made a bold request that Jesus remember him when Jesus came into His Kingdom.

Jesus, in the middle of redeeming the whole world, sees the individual next to Him. And He answers his prayer specifically. “Today you will be with Me in Paradise.”

In His darkest hour Jesus was doing what He always did. He was seeing the needs of a man and meeting that need. He was saving. Jesus is the Savior of the world, but, we cannot forget that He saves us individually. He never overlooks the individual, even while saving the masses.

I LAUGHED!

I laughed in church today. During communion. We had just received the elements. I took the bread. I drank the cup. And as I sat there repenting over my sin, I felt the Lord asked me, “What are you talking about?” And the worship leader was singing, “Oh, precious is the flow that makes me white as snow! No other fount I know…..Nothing but the blood of Jesus!”

I realized all over again that when the Lord looks at my life He doesn’t see the sin and the mistakes and all my shortcomings. He sees Christ. He sees Christ’s blood. I am white as snow!

And a laugh spontaneously bubbled up. It was how one laughs when she knows she is free. It was a laugh like my littlest son makes when tumbling all over me and blowing raspberries on my cheek. He knows he's accepted. It was a laugh that said, “What energy I have wasted continually repenting of the same weaknesses when God is ready to lift me up!”

I don’t know that I’ve ever laughed during communion. I’ve received it without much emotion. I’ve also received it and cried. But, I don’t think I’ve ever laughed through communion. It was so freeing and so wonderful! I think maybe Jesus threw His head back and laughed with me. Maybe He was picking me up and twirling me around and rejoicing that I finally remembered that I was His!

My husband just finished writing a term paper in which part of it examines the early church breaking bread together. He called it the Thanksgiving Element of their worship. Remember that the Passover, which is what Jesus was observing when He instituted the communion ritual, was a feast of thanksgiving. It was a time when God’s people recalled how and when they were set free from bondage. Communion, while sober in the recollection of Jesus’ suffering, is supposed to be a celebration of freedom!

“When the LORD turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing: then said they among the heathen, The Lord has done great things for them.” Psalms 126:1-2

“Surely God does not reject a blameless man or strengthen the hands of evildoers. He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.” Job 8:20-21

In honor of Valentine's Day...

In honor of Valentine’s Day some thoughts of God’s love…..

“When I was a kid in high school it used to be really popular to wear little buttons on your coat that said, SMILE GOD LOVES YOU. And that would always hack me off, ‘cause I go, You know what? God loves everybody. That doesn’t make me special. It just means that God has no taste.” (Rich Mullins)

I think we misunderstand God’s love. We think of it in a very “godly” sense. We can bear to think of God loving us as a Father. We can tolerate that Jesus loved us like a brother or even like a friend. But, rarely do I meditate on the fact that God has wild, unbridled passion for me.

We are generally comfortable with metaphors of God and man—Father and child, Shepherd and sheep, Potter and clay, Master and servant, and even being friends. But, we kind of gloss over passages where we have ravished the heart of God with one look of our eye. (Song of Solomon 4:9)

The Bible makes a rather scandalous comparison more than once (Isaiah 54 and the book of Hosea come to mind) of God being a husband and lover of His people. We don’t think of God in those terms very often. But, in making the metaphor that God did in Hosea, Isaiah, and Song of Solomon, He forever likened His love to sexual arousal.

Gomer was no model bride and neither was Israel. Both played the harlot, being unfaithful and fooling around with others (Gomer with other men, Israel with false gods). And yet both Gomer and Israel had a rather indecent power over her husband.

“He could not have enough of her and His passion could not be dampened by her many betrayals.” (Brennan Manning)

Bede Griffiths wrote: “The love of Jesus Christ is not a mild benevolence: it is a consuming fire.”

I know some Christians will see this as totally blasphemous. It’s not "holy" to talk about sex and God in the same sentence, let alone make a direct comparison between the feelings! But why? The prophet Hosea showed us that God doesn’t just care about His people (like I care about the neighbors, the homeless man on the corner, my mother, my friends, or my favorite show on television), but that God is actually aroused by His people.

I learned about an interesting ritual in Catholic liturgy. It was borrowed and assimilated by fourth century Christians—a Spring fertility symbol. It has been part of Easter liturgy ever since. “At the baptismal rite of the Easter vigil, a lighted candle is inserted into a case of holy water to symbolize that when Jesus Christ rose from the dead He consummated His union with His bride the Church.” Amazing, isn’t it, that fourth century Christians knowingly used a symbol of intercourse in their Easter services?! What were they thinking? Perhaps they were thinking that God loved His people enough to form a permanent bond and covenant with them that cannot be revoked. Generations and generations have witnessed this ritual and have not understood it.

I love all the metaphors of God’s relationship with His people. Yet, it’s interesting to note that the final metaphor, which probably isn’t really a metaphor, is that of a wedding feast! The culmination of our relationship with Jesus will be Jesus as a Husband and His people as the Bride on the happiest day of a passionate relationship—the day they are truly one!

I don’t know that I’ve communicated this properly or that it makes sense to anyone but me. But, in the words of Augustine, “Give me someone who loves, and he will understand what I am trying to say. Give me someone whose heart yearns, who feels the nostalgia of loneliness in this exile, who is athirst and sighs for a fatherland eternal, give me such a one and he will understand what I am trying to say. But if I must explain myself to ice-cold indifference, he will not understand.”

Just Checking

I was thinking about the children of Israel. They were supernaturally released from bondage in Egypt, saw God part the Red Sea, saw their enemy’s army destroyed—both horse and rider, and saw God’s Spirit descend upon the mountain while Moses received the Commandments.

And then they decided to create a golden cow to worship.

How much more proof of a living God did they need than what they were already given? Why did they have to have something to see, to touch, and something created by their own hands? It seems a deplorable lack of faith. I hope I’m a better Christian than that.

Then again….

If a Christian is someone who has perfect faith and who never doubts and never questions, then I suppose John the Baptist doesn’t make the cut. In prison for his faith, for preaching and preparing the way of the Messiah, he sent his disciples to Jesus to ask, “Are you the one, or do we look for another?” Seems like if you weren’t totally sure, ya wouldn’t have risked your neck scolding Herod and getting yourself locked away. It was as if John was saying to Jesus, “Let me just check one more time before I lose my life for You. I just want to make sure. Please reassure me that You are really the one.” I bet he was hoping Jesus would understand, being a carpenter and all. You know what carpenters say, “Measure twice, cut once.”

If a Christian is one who never asks for proof, then I suppose Jesus’ own disciple Thomas doesn’t count. He didn’t believe Jesus was alive until Jesus showed up and said, “Reach your finger here, and look at My hands; and reach your hand here, and put it into My side. Do not be unbelieving, but believing."

I don’t sense that Jesus was at all scolding Thomas. Just offering the proof Thomas needed, ‘cause Jesus loved Thomas, and I hear it in such a loving way. Like when we are on a long trip and I want the children to sleep on the way. Sometimes they seem almost doubtful, as if they might fall asleep and we won’t really arrive at the snow or at Papa’s house. Can a child take it on faith that when they wake up they won’t be back home? I reassure them, “I need you to take a nap. Everyone close your eyes. When you wake up we will be there. Please trust Mommy.”

I find two things very comforting. One, that when my faith wavers I am in good company. And secondly, the fact that I doubt doesn’t send me away from Jesus’ side or cause Jesus to shake His head in dismay and say, “I think I made a wrong choice in choosing her as my disciple.” In the case of Thomas it was exactly the opposite. The question drew Jesus closer with an offer to touch and experience His reality.

We are invited by Jesus’ Himself to not just have faith, but to experience Him for ourselves.

All these thoughts have been recently inspired by a song by a friend, Flo. Part of it goes: “But who's to say I wouldn’t pour all of my gold into the fire, just so that I could have God that my eyes could behold? And who’s to say I wouldn’t reach into your side if I had been there, just so that I could feel the wound and know that you are real?”

The whole business of the Christian life, I think, can be boiled down to two things: Experiencing the reality of God for ourselves and learning to trust Him.

Stereotypes

I didn’t see it, but saw the commercial, for a new game show called “Identity.” The idea is that you see a bunch of people and then a list of possible identities and have to match the correct person to the correct identity. Who is the organ donor? Who is the crocodile wrestler? The teacher? The Nobel Prize winner? The tractor mechanic?

As a married woman with five children, there isn’t a lot of mystery left to me—at least on the surface. But, I think it’s really important that wives maintain some mystery, keep some tricks up their sleeves, and surprise their husbands once in a while. One thing I never want to be is a stereotype.

I am a homeschooling mom who does not own a single denim jumper. (If you ever see me in one, you have my permission to throw a can of paint on me like those animal rights activists do to fur-wearing old ladies.)

I am a natural childbirth advocate, certified childbirth educator and doula who scandalized colleagues in the birth world when they realized that the reason I wasn’t home eight days post-partum when they called was because we were having our son circumcised.

I’m a Pentecostal pastor’s wife who does not have big hair. (But, maybe not from lack of trying. My hair is decidingly hippy, despite my best efforts.)

I’m a pastor’s kid who never got in trouble. (I didn't say never got caught.)

I’m a health food/whole food nut who loves ice cream.

I’m a wannabe vegetarian who can’t resist all-beef hotdogs with sauerkraut.

I’m an attachment parent--a co-sleeping, baby wearing, extended breastfeeding, and cloth diaper fanatic--who still believes that spanking is a good idea sometimes.

One thing I hope never to be is a stereotype. I don’t want all my ideas coming from the same place. I don’t want to give up all my mystery. I don’t want to ever bore my husband and I do hope to embarrass my children quite often as they grow older. I hope I’m a sixty year old who decides to learn how to surf, or who wakes up at the crack of dawn to pass out tracts to people doing Tai Chi on the beach. I always want to be learning a little more about myself and who God created me to be. I don’t ever want to get to the place where I think I’ve got myself all figured out. Sure, I want to be accepting of myself (and I think I am) but I also don’t want to settle.

To become a stereotype, to me, would mean allowing boundaries on my life that God didn’t put there. It would mean being molded, but not necessarily by the hand of God.

See, I believe that God has created His creatures far more complex than can be figured out in the 70 years we have on earth, and certainly not in the 28 that I’ve been around.

I think if I can remain a mystery to myself, I can keep some mystery in my marriage too. And I can make my husband laugh when he finds me in the bathtub with all my clothes on, with the kids, pretending that we are the children of Israel and I’m Moses parting the Red Sea. (Laugh if you want, but the kids sure liked it!)

The only one I am not a mystery to is God, who made me, knows me and loves me. Somehow Christians got the idea along the way that the “more Christ-like we become the less like ourselves we will be.” And I just think that is a distortion of the Truth, that the world and the enemy would like us to believe.

In The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, a book of letters written from an uncle demon to his nephew demon on how to keep a man from becoming a following of Christ (The “Enemy” referenced, therefore, is Jesus.) has this interesting passage:

“Of course I know that the Enemy also wants to detach men from themselves, but in a different way. Remember always that He really likes the little vermin, and sets an absurd value on the distinctness of every one of them. When He talks of their losing their selves, He only means abandoning the clamour of self-will; once they have done that, He really gives them back all their personality, and boasts (I am most afraid, sincerely) that when they are wholly His they will be more themselves than ever. Hence, while He is delighted to see them sacrificing even their innocent wills to His, He hates to see them drifting away from their own nature for any other reason.”

The real challenge in this world is not to conform and to be a success according to the world. Because, success according to God means something completely different. It’s more important for me to be a success as a human being than a success as a homeschooling mom, a childbirth advocate, a pastor’s wife, a vegetarian, or an attachment parent.

“Everybody has a vocation to some form of life work. But, behind that and deeper than that, everybody has a vocation to be a person, to be fully and deeply a human being, to be Christ-like. And the second thing is more important than the first. It is more important to be a great person than a great teacher, butcher, or candlestick maker. And if the only chance of succeeding in the second is to fail in the first, the failure, from God’s point of view, is fruitful.” (Brennan Manning)

Reflections On Some Recent Reading

This first quote gets to me because the last two years of our lives has been a crazy walk of faith wondering what the future held and wondering if we had somehow wandered off the path we should be on. How often I asked the Lord to please make things plain and explain what in the world I/we were to be doing! "What God wants done clashes with what I want to do for Him!"

And now, at this moment, I feel peaceful, with my hand in His. It's all about taking a walk with my Father, it matters not where He is going, as long as I am with Him.

"Trust is an aspect of love. If you love Me [Jesus] and believe in My love for you, you will surrender your whole self into My hands like a little child who doesn't even ask, 'Where are you taking me?' but sets off joyously, hand in hand with his mother. How many blessings this happy confidence wins for you, My little one.

"Keep going blindly. Take delight in knowing nothing about the future. I know how to lead the blind by the best paths. And when this blind person knows that he is My son, she is My daughter, won't they be glad of their infirmity, since it has power over My heart? In all this see My tenderness. It is everlasting."
(From: The Relentless Tenderness of Jesus, by Brennan Manning.)

And this quote makes me take a deep breath and give up any perfectionism left in my character. The phrase, "bondage to human respect" really gets to me. That's me in a nutshell.

"I believe Jesus calls all of us to let go of the desire to appear good, to give up the appearance of being good, so that we can listen to the word within us and move in the mystery of who we are. The preoccupation with projecting the perfect image, of being a model Christian and edifying others with our virtues leads to self-consciousness, sticky pedestal behavior, and bondage to human respect. As my director Larry Hein said, paraphrasing the Tao de Ching, 'Give up being a saint. It'll be a lot better for everybody.'"
(From The Relentless Tenderness of Jesus, by Brennan Manning.)

The Best News I've Ever Read

Shortly after I was ordained, I took a graduate course at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh. The professor was an old Dutchman who told the following story: "I'm one of thirteen children. One day when I was playing in the street of our hometown in Holland, I got thirsty and came into the pantry of our house for a glass of water. It was around noon and my father had just come home from work to have lunch. He was sitting at the kitchen table, having a glass of beer with a neighbor. A door separated the kitchen from the pantry and my father didn't know I was there. The neighbor said to my father, 'Joe, there's something I've wanted to ask you for a long time, but if it's too personal, just forget I ever asked.' 'What is your question?'

"'Well, you have thirteen children. Out of all of them is there one that is your favorite, one you love more than all the others?'"

The priest continued his story: "I had my ear pressed against the door hoping against hope it would be me. 'That's easy,' my father said. 'Sure there's one I love more than all the others. That's Mary, the twelve-year-old. She just got braces on her teeth and feels awkward and embarrassed that she won't go out of the house anymore. Oh, but you asked about my favorite. That's my twenty-three-year-old Peter. His fiancee just broke their engagement, and he is desolate. But the one I really love the most is little Michael. He is totally uncoordinated and terrible in any sport he tries to play. The other kids on the street make fun of him. But, of course, the apple of my eye is Susan. Only twenty-four, living in her own apartment, and developing a drinking problem. I cry for Susan. But I guess of all the kids...' and my father went on mentioning each of his thirteen children by name."

The professor ended his story saying: "What I learned was that the one my father loved most was the one who needed him most at the time. And that's the way the Father of Jesus is: He loves those most who depend on Him, and trust Him in everything. Little He cares whether you've been as pure as St. John or as sinful as Mary Magdalene. All that matters is trust. It seems to me that learning how to trust God defines the meaning of Christian living. God doesn't wait until we have our moral life in order before He starts loving us."

(Lion and Lamb: The Relentless Tenderness of Jesus, by Brennan Manning)

If that doesn't make you weep, check your pulse.

The Father's Favorite,

Daja

Something Today To Make Her Happy

She hugged her cup of tea a little closer and a sigh escaped. She looked wistfully out the window and saw a squirrel who seemed so carefree as she busily went about her work collecting nuts. Or was it a he? To her in that moment, she couldn’t find the strength to be grateful for being a female. She glanced about her little apartment with critical eyes. The dishes that piled in the sink, the clothes still unfolded on the sofa. To her it was a picture of what she could expect every morning of every day for the rest of her life. There was no relief in this world—at least none in sight. She peeled her eyes from that scene to her growing belly. She felt the baby adjust himself in her womb. There was one thing she could always be thankful for. She sighed again. This sighing was becoming a habit. She patted the baby. If only she could offer him a happier world.

Just then the phone rang.

“Hello! Janie? It’s Abbie!”

“Oh, hello, Abbie,” the sad woman replied trying to muster a little enthusiasm, but it didn’t come off very convincing to the perceptive woman on the other end of the line.

“Would you like to have lunch today? My treat! I found a wonderfully quaint little place—a little quirky. I know you’ll love it!”

Janie thought about her day’s plans……dishes, laundry, Oprah in the afternoon. Well, with a schedule like that…..

“Ummm…I have rather a lot to do today. And truthfully, I don’t feel much like going out. But, thanks.”

Abbie replied, “Oh, well, maybe another day then. Listen, Janie, I’m praying that today God will send something to bring you joy, something to show you that He is with you all the time.”

“Thanks.” Janie wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but didn’t want to be rude.

Before they hung up Abbie said, “Listen, if you change your mind about getting together today, let me know! You have my cell number! I’ll be free all day!”

~*~

“Not again!” The children were quarrelling for the umpteenth time that morning! What in the world could be the problem now, Laura thought as she rushed to attend the panic cries of “Mama!!!!!! Mama!!!!!”

She arrived to find her precious, darling little girls, the ones she viewed as perfect angels the day they were born, locked in combat! The younger, Jade, had a fistful of the elder, Myra ’s hair. Myra had her teeth on her sister’s arm, apparently thinking if she bit hard enough her hair would be freed. In the crib, the baby wailed.

Another day in the life of this tired Mama. While trying to mediate this squabble, she felt her ire rising up! The kids soon parted—sent to neutral corners while Laura tried to soothe the baby.

She took little Julie to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. Taking the first sip, she spilled some on her already stained bathrobe.

“Here comes the guilt,” she thought. She had lost her temper with her children again! She hated that look in their eyes. It was as if she has a bystander watching herself rant and could not stop it. The tears welled up in her eyes as she beat herself up for being an unfit mother. She looked down at her little one who had fallen asleep. Laura’s tears dripped off her chin and landed on Julie’s chubby cheeks. She stirred, but did not wake up. “What a gift this child is.”

Just then she heard the familiar bell from the computer. Someone was messaging her. She went to see. It was her mother.

“Good morning, Sweetie. How’s your morning going?”

Should Laura tell her about her guilty feelings, the fact that it was 10:30 and she hadn’t showered or dressed? She turned off the computer.

Gently she placed the baby on the couch and dutifully placed a pillow next to her to keep her from rolling off.

“Girls, please come here.” Her daughters with tear stained cheeks sulked in at a snail’s pace. “Let’s pray, girls.”

The weary mother sat on the floor and gathered her little ones into her lap. “Listen, Mama’s really sorry for losing her temper with you. Seems like I’m a little stressed these days. It’s not your fault. Forgive me?” The little girls nodded slowly, their little hearts so soft towards their mother whom they loved so dearly!

“Who would like to pray first?” Laura asked. Jade’s hand shot up. She always wanted to be the first in everything!

“Jesus, thank you for our mama. Please help her not to be stressed anymore. Send her something today to make her happy and have peace.” Sometimes she was too wise for her age.

~*~

The sun shone brightly through the blinds, splashing its radiance onto the sleeping woman. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes and looked at the clock—10 a.m. A smile stole over her lips. She never slept so late! She always believed the early bird caught the worm! Let’s see, today she had to clip back the roses, hoe the vegetable patch and take some eggs to a neighbor. If there was time, perhaps she could walk to the little café on the corner for some Chai and a scone. With that pleasant prospect, she rolled over and reached for the right side of the bed.

Then reality came crashing in. That side of the bed was empty. She allowed her hand to linger and lightly rub the cold sheet. Yes, that’s right, it has been empty nearly a month now. When would she remember that it would always be empty. She looked at the nightstand at the old black and white picture. He was so tall and handsome in full military dress. She looked so timid, but with a sparkle in her eyes. There had been no money or time for a fancy wedding. Just a bouquet of flowers and a glass of champagne on the steps of the courthouse on a weekend leave during World War II. But, their family and friends shared in their joy. They had simple gifts from their loved ones—a few housekeeping essentials and war bonds. But, her Uncle Gino had given them a special gift and released a flock of doves. Seeing those tiny, yet magnificent creatures fly over them gave her heart a thrill. She often thought back to that day and the memory always gave her renewed hope and promise for the future.

They had been through some highs and lows together. Birth of children, death of one. Long days at the factory, lay-offs, and starting over. Moving across country, leaving behind treasured friends. Together they watched their four remaining children grow up, marry, have children. Theirs was a blessed life. There were no regrets, save one. The fact that he had gone before her to their reward.

“Darling,” she said as she looked at her handsome groom, “We said till death us do part and we did it. Why couldn’t I go with you!” A sob unwillingly escaped and the warm tears began to soak his pillow.

~*~

Janie looked at the clock. It was dusk. Perhaps now it was cool enough to take a stroll outside. She opened her door and breathed deeply. Her baby did a little kick and roll. Perhaps she would just sit on her porch and let the cool air do its magic. As she lay back letting her hand tap on her belly she heard an unusual sound. Was it water running? No, what can it be? She looked around. There, landing on her porch railing, was an exquisite white bird. It cooed so charmingly that even this pessimistic young lady had to smile. Where had it come from? Lovely doves such as these don’t just live in the wild. Where had she seen a dove before? Her mind flashed back to a picture she saw in the waiting room of the clinic. It was there she found out she was pregnant. There hung a picture of a dove and a man who was so peaceful that the dove rested on Him. Was that Jesus?

Suddenly she remembered what her friend, Abbie had said, “Today God will send something to bring you joy, something to show you that He is with you all the time.”

The thought made goosebumps rise all over Janie’s arms. Soon the dove flitted away. Janie went to her phone, “Abbie? This is Janie. Is it too late to get together today?”

Somehow in the midst of the mess of her life, she felt a glimmer of hope that was fighting all odds to become a flame.

~*~

Laura looked with a longing smile at her little girls rolling on the lawn and blowing dandelion fluff. She wouldn’t scold, the girls had had too much of that lately. Laura sat on her patio balancing her checkbook. “This is a futile exercise,” she thought. “No matter how you write it, zero is still zero and will always be.”

Just then she heard a rustling in the bushes. She startled. She startled so easily since her husband had been away. She turned to see a dove, white as snow and so diminutive. He seemed to look right at her. She caught her breath and didn’t dare to move nor to call the girls to see it. The dove cooed, calked its head to the side and hopped a little closer.

In spite of herself Laura smiled. The bird cooed once more and then so delicately lighted and flew away. From some unknown reservoir inside her, laughter sprung up! She laughed in spite of herself as she watched her little friend fly away.

Without warning, she got up and ran to her girls. She gathered them up one by one, spun them around and laughed. “Mama’s happy!” her girls said as they giggled and fell on the grass and found more dandelions that needed blowing!

~*~

Phyllis did get the roses trimmed back, gardened hoed and eggs delivered, but didn’t really feel up to going out for tea. It was dusk. Was it too soon to go to bed? The days now seemed so long. They never used to. She slipped into a nightgown and wrapped herself in her husband’s robe. Although it was not cold, she could not help but feel a shiver. She lay herself down on his side of the bed. Staring out the window she sighed. Just then she saw the most remarkable sight. It made her wonder if being alone so much was causing her mind to go! There on her window sill was a dove—just like the ones released at her wedding all those years ago! It cooed. It preened its feathers and nestled itself as close to her window as it could. She watched in wonder as it tucked its head in and went to sleep. She looked from her wedding photo to the dove and back.

“Darling, those doves have always given me hope for the future. Today was the most difficult. I was out of hope. And now……” She couldn’t finish. Her wrinkled and aged-spotted hand, still so delicate, fingered the picture. She could almost feel the weave of the fabric in her husband’s uniform. A single tear slid from the corner of her eye.

“Oh, Jim,” she whispered with a smile, “I’ll see you soon.” And she closed her eyes.

~*~

Little more than a mile away, a lovely woman wept as she viewed her dove cage accidentally left open. Her beautiful bird had flown away.


Dedicated to Karen Sims, inspired by Jill Buckland.

Feeling Lonely?

People tend to think of me as a super positive and optimistic person. I’m really not. I have a severe tendency to be melancholy. When I get tired I start sighing a lot, to which my husband says, “Why do you keep doing that?!”

I have lots of wonderful people in my life, for whom I am really grateful. I have beautiful friends who enrich my lives and people who track my family from afar, sending prayers and support when we need it. I love my “community.”

And yet, I am a lonely person.

I can be in a crowd and suddenly feel an intense sense of loneliness. I can come home from a great party and feel so very alone. I can get lost in my thoughts and someone has to call me back to reality. Shall I admit that I do cry myself to sleep sometimes?

My melancholy used to bother me. I thought something was wrong with me.

Now I realize that it’s just homesickness.

See, this world is not my home. It’s just a stop on my way to my real home. I’ve come to realize that when I feel that sudden longing, that sharp loneliness, or the urge to burst into tears, it’s just my spirit responding to a call from home.

I dream of being like the saints of old. It’s not likely to happen that I’ll ever be angelically good, as the saints are portrayed to be. (Although, they were just humans like me, who let God use them.) But, in one aspect I think I am like them. Hebrews 11 says that they saw themselves as strangers and pilgrims on earth. And that they were looking for a better place, a heavenly homeland. Then comes a wonderfully encouraging sentence: “That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a heavenly city for them.”

“But they were looking for a better place, a heavenly homeland. That is why God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a heavenly city for them.” Hebrews 11:16

I used to think that my loneliness was something that had to be fixed or that indeed could be fixed. (I’m sure some doctor could prescribe some anti-depressants so that I never feel this way again.) But, I’ve come to realize that neither friendships nor romance, marriage nor children, church-going nor good-doing will ever be a cure for loneliness.

Loneliness is part of my journey. When God calls my spirit to Himself with a dose of longing, I must embrace it and follow Him. He has something to share with me. If I try to fill up the longing with anything but God, I will only be disappointed and feel the loneliness all the more acutely.

I think it's like my little children. Sometimes in the middle of a peaceful night of sleep they come crawling into bed with us. What woke them up? Why wasn't his sibling sleeping next to him comfort enough? Why didn't he just turn over and go back to sleep? When one of my children awake in the night they feel the pull to Mommy and Daddy's room. They want to be snuggled between us. Nothing else will really satisfy.

“For He satisfies the longing soul, And fills the hungry soul with goodness.” Psalm 107:9

It’s only the hungry that get filled. It’s only the longing soul that is satisfied. It's only the child that dares to creep down the dark hallway and climb into Mommy's bed that gets his Mommy's arms.

What I Believe

After reading the account of Meg taking communion, one reader emailed me asking what my religion was, thinking I may be Catholic.

I thought this was a perfect opportunity to explain what I believe and what I am. I am not Catholic, although, if you’ve been reading my blog for a while you may know that I always thought it would be great to be a nun. Well, five children later I’ve realized that that is not ever going to be my story. Also, I do not belong to any particular denomination so that I can say that “I am Methodist” or “I am Baptist.” However, I can say whole-heartedly and with great conviction that I am a follower of Christ!

Here’s what I believe and what the Bible teaches me:

God created mankind to fellowship with Him. According to Genesis when God made the plants, animals, birds and fish, the sky and all His creation He said that it was good. When God formed mankind He said it was VERY GOOD. He designed man perfectly in His own image and likeness. It was never God’s intention that humans live such spiritually disconnected lives such as we do now.

Made in the image of God, mankind had an important quality that the trees and the fish did not have. It was his freewill. Despite God’s desire to fellowship with mankind, the man and the woman chose to sin against God.

God is holy. He cannot look on sin. Mankind’s sin separated him from fellowship with God. And man’s tendency towards sin continues in all the children of the first man and woman. The Bible tells us that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. (Romans 3:23) I know that I have. I lose my temper, bend the truth, struggle to forgive, and many other things. I try to be good. But, I’ve come to realize that goodness does not come naturally to me. Any goodness in me is a result of God’s light shining through me and not me alone.

God is not surprised by my sin, just as He was not surprised by the first man and woman’s sin. Things don’t catch God off guard. That’s always comforting to know. Rather than scrapping the whole creation plan, God made a way to restore fellowship with mankind.

That way of restored fellowship is Jesus Christ. God loves His creation. He hates to see the world suffer in poverty, hatred, disease, wars, and all the ugliness we can produce. When the time was right God sent His only Son to earth in the form of a baby. He was at the same time totally God and totally man. This baby grew in wisdom, stature, favor with God, and favor with man. (Luke 2:52) And this man taught the people a new way of dealing with one another.

Turn the other cheek.

Go the second mile.

Whoever is to be the greatest must be a servant.

Love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength.

Love your neighbor as yourself.

But, the most important lesson He taught the people came at the end of His earthly life. He showed the people God’s love. “God demonstrates His own love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

You see, sin must be punished. And yet God does not want us to pay for our own sin. The weight of how I have offended God is too great for my feeble human shoulders to carry. So, before the payment for my sin fell on my shoulders, Christ came and paid my debt.

He did this by dying for me. For you. For all mankind. God redeemed His creation when an innocent man became sin for all the guilty men and women in the world.

To show that He was not only human, but also divine, Jesus stayed dead only three days. On the third day He rose again! He appeared to His disciples in the flesh once again to show them the completion of their forgiveness.

One more thing you must know is that Jesus is the only way to heaven. John 14:6 says, “I am THE way, THE truth, and THE life; no one comes to the Father, but through me.”

I have found and truly believe that the way to a fulfilled life on earth lived out in grace, love, forgiveness, and even in fun and adventure, is to be a follower of Christ. I also truly believe that following Christ is my only hope of heaven after I die.

The more I read the Bible and the longer I follow Christ the more I am assured of my place in heaven. It’s not because I am good. It is because God is good. It is not because I am sinless. It is because the sinless one paid for my sin and I have accepted His gift of salvation.

That same salvation He offers to everyone—regardless of someone’s past, future, plans, sins, goodness, shortcomings, victories. Regardless of someone’s religious background, nationality, culture or customs. God offers the free gift of salvation. All one must do is talk to God and essentially tell Him that they accept His gift.

Have you never prayed like that before? Here’s a simply example of how that could go....but rest assured God’s hears your heart no matter the words that sputter out. And He doesn’t require intellectual or even very “spiritual” prayers.

“God, I know that I have not lived for You. I try to do the right things all the time, but I know that I don’t. I can’t, even though I try. I am sorry for my sins. I need help out of my sin. Thank you for sending your Son, Jesus, to pay for my sin and to give me a way out. I want to accept Him into my life. Help me to do that. Help me to follow Christ’s example and to live for a higher purpose in my life here on earth. And when I die I want to go to heaven—a place you’ve prepared for those that accept your gift of forgiveness. In Jesus’ Name. Amen.”

If you want to talk more about this leave me a comment or email me at mrsgombojav@yahoo.com

Now you know what I believe and what motivates me to live the way that I do. As the Rich Mullins song says, "I believe what I believe is what makes me what I am."

Want to be used by God?

I hear people so often expressing how they want to be used by God. I’ve heard it prayed very often. And I confess, I’ve prayed it myself! It’s a nice idea that God can use people……then again….God can use anything. Even a donkey prophesied in the Old Testament.

I don’t know who wrote this, but I always like it:

The next time you feel like G0D can't use you, just remember...

"Noah was a drunk
Abraham was too old
Isaac was a daydreamer
Jacob was a liar
Leah was ugly
Joseph was abused
Moses had a stuttering problem
Gideon was afraid
Samson was a womanizer
Rahab was a prostitute
Jeremiah was too young
David had an affair and was a murderer
Elijah was suicidal
Isaiah preached naked
Jonah ran from God
Naomi was a widow
Job went bankrupt
Peter denied Christ
The Disciples fell asleep while praying
Martha worried about everything
The Samaritan woman was divorced
Zaccheus was too small
Paul was too religious and
Lazarus was dead!"

God can use ANYONE! It’s nothing to brag about that God can use you. A lot of people that God used were not very nice people.

What is really something is that even if God never chooses to use me, HE WANTS ME!

In my opinion it’s a much better thing to be wanted by God. Mark 3:13 “Jesus went up on a mountainside and called to him those he wanted, and they came to him.”

I can make great sacrifices for God and make quite a showing of it. Yet, God really wants my heart… “You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” Psalm 51:16-17

And what could be better than wanting someone and that someone wanting you back?!