Category Archives: Sandy

Feb 14 2013
4 Comments
Love, Marriage, Sandy

Say It With Cake

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I remember it well. Valentine’s Day, 1983. A chocolate cake with white icing on which floated a curvy, squiggly symbol which, I learned, was shorthand for “I love you.” It was the very first time Sandy let me know how she felt even though I’d been laying those words on her for weeks while, to my consternation, she remained mum.

Until that cake.

That glorious, decadent cake.

That’s just like her: “I’m not going to tell you, I’m going to show you.” And she’s been showing me for 31 straight V-Days (and all the days in between).

I love you, my joyance. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Jun 04 2012
4 Comments
Love, Marriage, Sandy

Marital Tenacity…and a Case of One-Upmanship

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“Love one another…Outdo one another in showing honor.” Rom 12:10

This was a recent exchange between myself and my wife of nearly 29 years. Consider yourself a fly on the wall.

She: “I love you.”

Me: “I love you too.”

She: “I love you most.” (giggle)

Me: (Quick retort) “I love you BEST.”

She: (Schoolgirl charm) “I love you LAST.”

Well played, mon cherie. You won that round.

I’ll be ready for the next one.

Mar 23 2012
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Christianity, Consecration, Discipleship, Fellowship, Grace, Hearing God, Inspiration, Intimacy with Christ, Jesus Christ, Prayer, Sandy, Waiting on God, Worship

Drive-Thru Jesus

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Not far from our house is a small clutch of retail establishments with only three or four eateries. And one of those is a McDonald’s.

Sigh.

We’re not much for fast-food, but when we’re tired and hungry and don’t want to drive very far, we’ll give in and drive up the road and grab a bite. No, not at Mickey D’s – that’s pretty much never in our GPS. Except for their morning coffee. It’s pretty good, I’d have to say. Better than, even.

But I digress.

We’ll invariably choose another joint that at least has some good salad choices and better-than-average chicken plates. Anything with a pretentious ‘Z’ in its name has promise. We’d prefer to add to Truitt Cathy’s bulging wallet, but his place is way over four miles from us; plus it’s only got a drive-thru. And, we like the whimsical, warm-glow atmosphere of the primarily southern restaurant’s (could it be called that?) dining room.

Being the marvelous husband that I am, I gallantly offer to make a run up to the place and pick something up for us both. I know how Sandy likes her tea, how many yellow-pack sweeteners she likes, how she prefers her fries without its strangling seasoning, how she takes her sauce, etc.

I tell you, I’ve got this husband thing down pat.

But, invariably, my love will tell me she’d rather us go together so we can enjoy the full benefits of dining inside. Long ago she explained that you can get free refills, take the time to season or sweeten to your heart’s content, and, who knows, but being extra nice to the girl at the register might cause her to whisper “give ‘em extra fries” through the window to the food prepare’s side.

In short, the drive-thru limits you. What you drive away with, you’re stuck with. Ah, but when you sit and dine – hello – if the food’s not quite to your liking, all you have to do is walk ten feet to the counter and inform them (nicely! Extra fries or chicken pieces in your salad, remember?) that your palate, while titillated, is not yet sated.

A lot of His followers treat Jesus like a drive-thru. A quick convenience. In and out…or, up to the small impersonal window and gone, lickety-split. In a snap. A forty-second encounter. Little fuss. Little wait.

But remember…

When you drive away, you’re stuck with what you got, that is, unless you’re willing to go to inconvenient lengths to get your demands met.

When Jesus said He wanted a chance to “sup” with us (Rev 3:20), he used the word that means to sit and dine, not looking at the clock, not squeezing Him in, not ‘fast-fooding’ it. It’s the meal of the day that Martha was preparing for, bless her heart. She wanted it just right. Little did she realize, the feast was already happening in the other room.

Oh, the rich benefits of spending a lot of time over a meal with Jesus – not allotted time. It’s not “on-the-go”. The ancients had a meal-time like that – we call it lunch. This is a two to three hour meal where time is taken and life is exchanged. Five, six courses.

Conversation.

Savoring.

Embellishment.

Transformation.

Such ‘supping’ offers all the little extras. There’s the atmosphere – the ambience – of being inside, not “out there” choking on the fumes of the world. Complete with all the accessible a la cart perks!

The “better part.”

You may not get a daily time like this, I know, but carve times and seasons throughout the year – weekly, monthly – when you shut off the motor, venture inside…

…and sup at His table.

Mar 05 2012
11 Comments
Adoration, Authentic Christianity, Christianity, Deception, Fellowship, God, Gospel, Grace, Holiness, Intimacy with Christ, Joy, Marriage, Purity, Repentance, Sandy, Scripture, Worship

O Be Careful Little Heart What You Believe

Hey fellow believer, what do you say about the popular notion,

there is nothing I can do that would make God love me any more or any less

?

If I said that I believe that is a false statement, if only partly, I know some would fight me on it. Others might even say, “well, it’s been good while it lasted, Green P@stures, but this is where I get off.”

Christianity is filled with platitudes and proverbs that need holding up to the light of scripture.

The Jews of old loved the scriptures but if a rabbi taught something that extrapolated or bent their meaning, the people went with the rabbi’s interpretation. There are religions in the world that have a long-held tradition of canonizing their popes’ or imams’ word over against their holy books – the very teachings their faiths are founded upon.

Do we do it too?

What if I showed a scripture that (for me) clearly debunks the sentiment above? Jude, who kinda knew Messiah pretty well since they grew up together under the same roof, said, “keep yourselves in the love of God.” (v21) His own half-brother, of whom all the scriptures testify, said, “if you keep My commands, you will abide in My love.” (see John 15:9-10)

So there is a possibility that we can fall out of God’s favor?

What would Jesus say about our NOT keeping His commands? What would we abide in then?

Same thing? Really?

Now I’m not suggesting that we are going to have the rug of our salvation jerked out from beneath our feet when we screw up. Our standing as sons and daughters remains, but the issue of fellowship becomes a white elephant in the room.

Can we displease the Holy Spirit? Can we grieve* Him?

Are there scriptural accounts that we may reference where the Lord struck down a believer for lying to Him? Did Jesus rebuke his Twelve sharply on separate occasions? Is there a church whom Christ will vomit out of His mouth?

Do these references sound nice?

Far from what you’re thinking, no, I am most definitely not trying to paint our King as a mean-spirited, vindictive potentate who cannot wait to chew us up and spit us out. I have found a Father and Lover of my soul who craves my adoring and returns in exponential kind.

Sorry, but I don’t approach Him every day cowering and quaking. He is absolutely precious! Our relationship is everything to me and getting more personal and richer as I move along.

I am only concerned here with a draft of grace that is floating around that hates anything to do with effort**, repentance, or striving for holiness. Its appeal is to our modern penchant for self-idolization; for our embracing the lie that God exists only for our benefit, and is preoccupied with making me happy and feeling good about myself.

I’m not ashamed that of the beautiful things that are part of my love affair with Jesus, one of them is a healthy fear of displeasing Him. I don’t like it when I’m at odds with Sandy, when there’s knife-cutting-the-air tension between us. I despise the gulf that exists though the marriage bonds still hold strong. I love her way too much.

Should it be any less of a motivation with regard to my heart’s King?

To know that I can cause Him grief, and to make every effort to avoid doing that (though I fail often), is not legalism. It moves me to love Him more and enjoy Him more fully because He is worthy of my highest love. It is…a beautiful goad.***

Let us stop subscribing to sentiments because they sound good, look good on Facebook status’ and make us feel better about ourselves, but held up to the Light show signs of questionable origins (re: satan). And, while we’re at it, let’s not dismiss those “other” passages that should give us pause. In a good way.

That’s all I’m saying.

_____________________________________________

*The word ‘grief‘ found in Eph 4:30 is ‘lupeo’ and points to an intense pain inflicted upon by another. It means a “wounding.” It is not a quick snort of saying “good grief!” at someone’s ridiculousness, but a sharp and recurrent, debilitating pain; used of a woman in throes of childbirth, disciples vexed by prophecies of Messiah’s own death, and the rich young ruler who went away from Jesus in great emotional distress.

**Not self-effort, but those holy works we are re-created to do in the divine grace that empowers us.

***A “goad” is a catalyst, prod, incentive

Feb 29 2012
4 Comments
Authentic Christianity, Blogging, Christianity, Church, Consumerism, Culture, Deception, Discipleship, Faithfulness, Hearing God, Holy Spirit, Honesty, Hypocrisy, Intimacy with Christ, Jesus Christ, Judgment, Laodicea, Ministry, Renewal, Sandy, Spiritual Warfare, THE Sin, Truth, Weddings, Worship

Double-Take

ME: “Hey Mom, Dad, I met this girl…”

THEY: “The girl you’ve been dating. We know.”

ME: “No, not her. Another girl. This one I’m sure is the one. I really want you to meet her…”

And so my course was plotted. With heart completely ravished and smitten, I had declared my intent. With hand to the plow, I made it my soul’s mission to make a life with the same girl I had nearly written off when our paths first crossed. Remind me to tell you about that another time. I can only tell you I had sorely and poorly misjudged her.

She sure had me pegged, though.

I got a comment from a friend on another social networking site I use questioning a statement I made about contemporary church. While I am most certainly right and they are wrong–he mocked–it did get me thinking.

In my vast inventory of posts, I have said an awful lot about what is wrong with the church.* I make no apology for that since it has been my burden to carry for the Lord, but I never want to become so jaded that I fail to see the grandness of her highness, the Bride of Jesus.

No, not in the sweet by and by.

Now.

Here.

It’s a dangerous thing to curse whatever He has called holy. What I hope and pray I have addressed is not the genuine but to differentiate it from the mixture that is with His people. May it never be my horrid crime to refer to His bride as ugly.

I have a friend who is a master of the metaphor and one of my favorites is his picture of scaffolding around a building that is being renovated. If we focus on the pipes and boards, buckets and bricks, mortar and trowels, we would be disillusioned, but when the work is finished and all of that is dismantled and cleared away, we stand in awe of the final product.

I admit, sometimes I swear I’m looking at a condemned building when I might just be seeing the scaffolding. Lord, let me see her…

I asked the Lord two nights ago: “how am I to see Your Church, Lord?” The answer came so quickly, I knew I hadn’t the time to tick off the qualities that sprang into my conscious thoughts. I had a fairly good sense I was discovering the King’s heart on the subject.

Here is what I jotted down.

(As an aside, whenever you ask the Lord for His thoughts on a matter, it is often to your advantage to have writing implements close by. That’s free. You’re welcome.)

So what did I hear in my spirit?

  • She is Robed in Beauty and getting more beautiful all the time, as My coming draws nearer (Isa 54:11-17)

Seven things. Seven.

Am I to take anything from that I wonder?

Nah. Has to be a coincidence.

While there’s a whole host of things that need to be addressed with regard to contemporary church, especially in prosperous, non-persecuted regions of the world, there is SO MUCH MORE that is right with her.

You just have to take a second look.

________________________________________________________

*Not THE Church, but what passes itself off as church; I have differentiated between the professing church (outward show and lip-service) and the Confessing Church of Christ (the Bride being prepared and adorned for glory)

Dec 12 2011
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Children, Christianity, Commitment, Disability, Encouragement, Faithfulness, Family, Hope, Intimacy, Marriage, Sandy, Sex, Shepherd Center, Suffering, Trials

Scenes From The Back Row

If you’ve followed my blog for the past several years, you know I have referenced Shepherd chapels before. Then, it was the endearing love of a mother for her newly and severely disabled son. Go ahead and read that account. It’s definitely tissue-worthy.

What a mother. A certifiable hero.

Today I was doing a bit of spying again from the back row during chapel and set my sights on a wife and her disabled husband a couple of seats in front of me. Again the homily from an over-trained but well-intentioned chaplain was dry and unaffecting, failing to connect with the core needs of the audience. But never fear, the real sermons happen all around you at a Shepherd chapel. That’s where the scenes and sounds of glory take place. So it pays to sit on the back row sometimes.

But for the record, and as a pastor, I wouldn’t encourage it.

This afternoon’s message came from the pair in the photo. Danny, like the son in the aforementioned story, is a quadriplegic. He cannot move his arms. He would have to be assisted just to give his wife a hug and, even then, would not feel the warmth of her body.

I don’t yet know Danny’s story but I know enough that he was able-bodied when he got married to this woman, and now he moves his chair by blowing into a straw. I wish you could see this marvelous woman love on her man, checking every few seconds to see if there’s anything he needs, jumping up to wipe the spittle from the corner of his mouth, smiling at him just to assure him that he is still the man she married, albeit diminished, and would marry him all over again.

That is truly heroic if you ask me.

I am sniveling as I think of the Sandy’s and Mrs. Danny’s and the mommy’s who rarely get the attention they deserve. We are the victims of fortunately unfortunate circumstances and they are the angels, the saviors, the heroes.

Check out the body language of this wife who, I’ve no doubt, will grow old with her husband through sickness and health. Take careful note that she is seated on a white folding chair, but occupies only half of it—the half closest to Danny. She wants to be as near to him as the space between a wooden chair and a wheelchair will allow. It’s like they were teenagers in love in a movie theater. This is intimacy. Have your Hollywood sex all you want.

I remain transfixed by the love story unfolding before me. Sure there will be new adjustments and—yes—those dratted, humiliating physical limitations, but I applaud this heroic woman for rolling with the punches and braving whatever lies ahead.

I know about heroes. I live with one. If you want to read about Sandy and our amazing love story, scroll down the right margin of my blog to “Categories” and look for “Sandy” in the drop-down menu. Our story is well documented and you’ll get the picture. It’ll make you mist over too.

So…hat tips to the families, the wives, the moms and dads…of all who suffer…

…oh, and to the Emily’s (whose athletic sixteen year old brother became a quad a few months ago and ministers to him as tenderly as if she were his own mother).

From where I sit? You guys are the true heroes. Bless you.

Nov 20 2011
2 Comments
Christianity, Faithfulness, Marriage, Ministry, Repentance, Sandy

Lecture To My Students (If I Had Any)

When and if God places me in front of young, eager, kingdom-minded students, I know one of the lectures I offer them from the start would be: make much of your marriage.

As a veteran of ministry I know full-well the draw of it and obsession with it. I know how it can consume you, titillate you, massage your ego and vie for your undivided attention. It is an attractive mistress that swishes and sashays in front of you, and when it beats those long eyelashes and delivers its bedroom eyes…forget about it. You’re toast.

A whole movement of God among men began with the disconsolate look upon a wife’s face—a wife who had lost her husband to his good work. The other woman.

Brethren, as Paul would say, these things ought not be! The same apostle would point in the direction of the minister’s wife and tell the man of the cloth (or whatever the case might be) to be diligent to love her. Don’t just say the words. Don’t assume she already knows. Love her.

Love her so she knows she is your cherished and treasured woman and there are no seconds. Love her so she feels so settled about you in her heart that she wouldn’t just be shocked if news of an affair came out, but that she knows it would never happen. Ever.

I say these things because I know there are wives of ministers out there who simply do not know where they fit in their husband’s life anymore, let alone if they even do. They are so used to the ignored phone calls, the glazed looks, the distracted looks, the preoccupied looks, the elsewhere looks. She knows she has dropped in his personal rankings. She sees how everyone else asks for and gets his time, how he seems so much more patient with them than he is with her. She watches how he lights up in certain settings in ways she used to remember, long ago, he did for her.

But that is a far-gone memory.

So she puts on her Sunday face and bravely does the church thing, all the while mourning, grieving and seething inside. She has to endure all the women who receive from her man’s ministry say things like, “Your husband is just the greatest!” or “You are so lucky to be married to him!”

Yes. Lucky.

If you say so.

I thank God that I have been unemployed from ministry for the past two years. You’ll never guess what my wife told me the other day. No, she didn’t say I sure hope you get a job soon. She didn’t prod me to see if I had any indication for our future. Husbands, she said something that both tore my heart out and healed it in one fell swoop.

She said, “I can tell you love being with me again.”

Busted.

All those things I mentioned earlier? I’ve done those things to her. She has felt them. And, God bless her, she has come through it all, inattentive selfish jerk that I could be at times, with grace and beauty. She is one of the strongest women I know. But she still has wounds, and scars, and tender bruises from the neglect of our “ministry years.”

Don’t get me (or her) wrong: ministry is a sacred trust and the greatest blessing one could imagine, but it is heavy machinery that one should stay away from if their inner self is impaired or under the influence of the intoxicating drug of self-identity or selfish gain. Yes, you have a charge to shepherd the flock, but you didn’t put on a tux, write your vows, or fight to keep your virginity and save yourself for them all the way to the altar before God and a solemn company of witnesses when you got the gig.

She is your first ministry. You made uncommonly sacred vows to her. Leave her on the sidelines or in the back of your mind and you’ll regret it. I wish I knew more about Mrs. Spurgeon or Mrs. Lloyd-Jones or Mrs. Murray or Mrs. Whoever. We hear so much — and make so much — of the guy that we never consider the girl.

God doesn’t. He makes so much of the girl that He carefully selected her and prepares her to be a bride for His Son. The Son adores His bride. He is enraptured by her. Loves being with her! And she radiates because He died to be with her. For all eternity, everybody will know Mrs. Jesus. She’ll be seated right up there next to Him.

The past two years have not been easy. As I write this, I am in yet another stint in the hospital with a life-threatening infection (my fifth month to date). Some might see a wilderness or hopeless desert, but you wouldn’t know it by our marriage. We are as giddy as newlyweds and as deeply satisfied as an old married couple who still hold hands and have pet names for each other.

God help me to never let ministry mess with my Mrs. and me again.

Nov 14 2011
13 Comments
Christianity, Disability, Endurance, Grace, Peace, Praise, Sandy, Shepherd Center, Sovereignty of God

MUCH MORE INFO THAN YOU WANTED

Greetings.  No, this is not Scott, so try not to sigh and continue to read.  We tried to think of the best way to communicate without collapsing from exhaustion (ha ha).  This seems to be the best way for all of us.  I think you reached here because you know his blog site, or there was a link on facebook.  Either way, WELCOME.

Thank  you so much for your prayers. We are amazed at the way God has used you to surround us with His peace, comfort and protection.  Bless you all.

Surgery was Thursday morning, and it went well. It was a preliminary success.  They got a tremendous amount of necrotic tissue, and other copious amounts of gunk, and he only had to have two units of blood (they were concerned about blood loss).  His blood levels have been better for the first time in 2 plus years!!!

Friday, the doctors felt optimistic that they got the most out possible and perhaps they would not have to go back into the lower spine area at a later date.  We were happy about that, but then they said that they definitely have to do a skin flap surgery to “close up” the wound area.  Which extends our stay by about 4-5 WEEKS!  So, after we gulped air, we just felt like it would be a blessing to be in here & monitored continuously while they pump him full of antibiotics & he heals.  The hard part is being flat (no more that 30% angle for head) and in bed in the hospital for a long time.  Scott’s had plenty of practice, but each time is still not exciting.

He had a great UNEVENTFUL (which makes it great) weekend. Praise the Lord.

Today, they told him that he had a bacteria growing in the surgery site that had pointers to the bowel and a possible bowel fissure.  Which was also a way they were leaning before surgery.  So, he is scheduled for a big gastric test tomorrow.  We are praying they will find something and it will be an easy fix, but we are just thankful that they are finding “things”.   We are also praying that these abscesses in his abdomen stop and he quits brewing these killer bugs.

Oops, you don’t know it but I was interrupted for a while.  They found ANOTHER bacteria just a while ago, so they are re-calling the infectious disease guy because it is ESBL positive which stands for Extended Spectrum Beta Lactamase=resistant proteus mirabitis. So, we may have to scratch all meds & restart.  See why I don’t write every day.  The infectious disease doctor also said Friday night that he wasn’t sure that it was just in the hip area, that they would have to monitor his blood and if his inflammatory markers continued to stay high, he would press for the spine surgery.

He feels good, he is strong, and his spirits are awesome (he is a continuous shining example of God’s grace & so humbling to me).  We are just in that wait & see mode, and we are so grateful that we are in the best place to be, they WANT to work on him (even after 30 years) they are so gifted and are so good to us. How awesome God is to provide this specialized care for us.

Thanks for caring enough to check on us and pray for us.  You feel like the world and everyone are living large and you are stuck in a vacuum, so your texts (I don’t have unlimited, so don’t go crazy on me), e- mails, facebooks, calls, & cards are awesome.  Just don’t get mad if I don’t respond.  It is hard to fit it in between work, sleep, commuting, & then the revolving door while I’m here in the hospital.

I have been singing “Yes, Lord” all week.  “we are pressed but not crushed, persecuted not abandoned, struck down but not destroyed…” WE ARE BLESSED!

Thanks again, to all of you.  We love you, SCOTT & SANDY

Sep 20 2011
11 Comments
Christianity, Peace, Prayer, Sandy

Update on Pasturescott from Wifey-Poo

Greetings All.  First, a disclaimer: my husband wanted me to add this entry, so please overlook the fuzzy explanations, the makes-no-sense rabbit trails, the mixed metaphors, and the gaps in any pertinent information (Ha!).

Several years ago amidst another health crisis, I jokingly stated that our lives read like the movie titles:  “There Will Be Blood”, “There Will Be Blood, Part Two”, “Hamburger Hill”,  and now, “It’s Complicated”!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( I will be glad to elaborate on those if you need me to)

Thank you, thank you, thank you for your prayers.  They carried the day.  What an amazing thing it is to be a part of something God is doing and watching when “man” can’t fix the problem.  I was reminded that Scott has been in the AMA’s medical journals before when he was first injured 30 years ago.  We are revisiting that again. Continue reading →

Aug 21 2011
1 Comment
Christianity, Marriage, Sandy, Weddings

A Wedding Song (The Beat Goes On)

SANDY’S SONG (YOU’RE THE ANSWER TO MY PRAYER)*

It seems like only yesterday
You came into my life
The dreams of “us” I had
Are now coming true tonight
I know deep in my heart, as I see you standing there—
A package wrapped in heaven—
And you’re the answer to my prayer.

***

You’re the longing in my heart
You’re what I wanted most
You have filled an empty place
That no one else could fill—
I love you so!—
You’re in my heart
And we’ve got a life to share
You’re all that I want, and ever could need
You’re the answer to my prayer!

***

Hand in hand we’ll face each day
There’ll be laughter mixed with tears
But you’re the only one
I want to be with through the years
You’re God’s own gift to me:
A precious jewel rare
Heaven’s light beams from your face
And you’re the answer to my prayer…

—Scott Mitchell, August 1983, sung to Sandy on our wedding day; thanks to my buddy, Kevin Moore, for collaborating with me on this song and making it perfect for our special day!

Aug 20 2011
6 Comments
Anniversary, Marriage, Sandy, Weddings

While You Were Sleeping In Seattle, I Married A Fat, Greek Wedding Planner: An Ode To Chick Flicks And Twenty-Eight Years

Let your fountain be blessed, and rejoice in the wife of your youth…be intoxicated always with her love.”
(Proverbs 5:18,19)

“See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek.”
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

“You stay alive, no matter what occurs!I will find you.No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I will find you.”
Hawkeye, Last of the Mohicans

“I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.I choose a mortal life.”
Arwen Evenstar, Fellowship of the Ring

Darcy: What endearments am I allowed?
Lizzie: Well, let me think…”Lizzie” for everyday…”my pearl” for Sundays, and “Goddess Divine,” but only on special occasions.
Darcy: And what am I to call you when I’m cross? “ MRS. Darcy?”
Lizzie: No, you may only call me “Mrs. Darcy” when you are perfectly, completely and incandescently happy!”
Darcy: And how are you, this evening…MRS. Darcy?”
Pride and Prejudice, (The Movie)

“You have given me the highest, completest proof of love that ever one human being gave another.I am all gratitude and all pride (under the proper feeling which ascribes pride to the right Source); all pride that my life has been so crowned by you.”
Robert Browning to his “Ba” (Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

When we first got married, it was Rambo, Clint and Chuck. As I look back now upon our evolving love affair, I see that we (that is to say, I) have mellowed and lean more toward the “sense and sensibility” and far less gore and dismemberment of Austen. Methinks I like this a whole lot better.

Who cares if convention sees us as boring and old? We are seasoned, not old. If seasoning makes something even better, then our something has taken on more flavor and appeal through the years. And what, pray tell, if we are aging? Two words: fine wine. To put it as Browning, “Grow old along with me; the Best is yet to be!”

You know any man who has bawled through “Steel Magnolias” more than once has GOT to be a hopeless romantic. Guilty as charged. I know Truvy (Dolly) said, “Time marches on and sooner or later you realize it is marchin’ across your face!” but I defer to the pragmatic Shelby (Julia) who opined, “I’d rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special.” You, my dearest, are my thirty minutes. And counting.

I am grateful for every darkened theater and tear-soaked kleenex, holding hands and making goo-goo eyes while the likes of Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth are splashed across the screen, dancing all alone in a crowded room; I love that that scene moves you so. For these and every other moment I share with you I am indelibly stricken with the pleasure of knowing that you truly “complete me.”

What can I say that hasn’t been said? I shall brave an attempt…

You are comely, my fair one
And I am satisfied
As here
I rest
in our love;
You, the moon in my night sky,
You, the shore that welcomes my advances;
Absorbed, I become
One with you.

I am Aragorn and you are my Arwen:
(“Go to sleep.
I am asleep. This is a dream.
Then it is a good dream.”)
Rivendell has never seen the likes,
The shimmering delights;
Such serenity—
Tranquility,
Or daring romance!
With you I have traversed into uninhabitable wild,
Unfettered joy;
Thirty minutes of wonderful—
A child, waking up on Advent morn
To outdoor white and indoor peace.

When your eyes take me in, their irises embolden me
To feel confident I am your Man:
Golden mane—
Well chiseled—
Fit and upright—
Dashing and daring—
(Your tainted vision!)
Steed, Armor, shield and javelin,
With war in my heart to fight for you,
And lose for you,
To win you,
My Jocelyn,
My home and heart.

Twenty-three bells peal today;
Another will ring tomorrow,
(By God’s grace)
Sounding forth their ode for Esmeralda—
A song the world may listen to, but not own;
It is for you, and no other.
You are altogether lovely…MRS. Mitchell…
From your soul ascending to your halo cascading.
And I,
Here I,
Blessed I,
Am perfectly, completely and incandescently
Satisfied.

NOTE: This is a repost from an earlier time (5 yrs ago). My feelings haven’t changed, only deepened. I love you, Sandy. Happy Anniversary!

Aug 19 2011
2 Comments
Christianity, Commitment, Endurance, Faith, Faithfulness, Heaven, Hope, Inspiration, Intimacy, Jesus Christ, Marriage, Sandy, Weddings

Rehearsing For That Day

“Beloved, now it does not appear what we shall be, but we know that, when He appears, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him face to face.”
1 John 3:2

“We don’t yet see things clearly. We’re squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won’t be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We’ll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!”
1 Corinthians 13:12, The Message

We all long for [Eden], and we are constantly glimpsing it: our whole nature…is still soaked with the sense of exile.
–JRR Tolkien

The Father is longing for the day in which He can present to His Son, and to the earth, the one who “made herself ready” for His return.
–David Sliker

Twenty-eight years ago–today–a passel of bridesmaids and groomsmen joined the minister and prospective bride and groom–‘the Sange’ and me–for the rehearsal of our wedding. It was August and it was hot. Even the Tampa/St. Pete/Clearwaterians called it hot.

Vows were already written and in the hopper, the gown was hanging ready, tuxes were rented and the accoutrements of the next day’s celebration were gradually taking their place throughout the church. Amid the overbalance of familiar was a sprinkling here and there of transcendence. As the hours grew closer to the unveiling, however, the balance of common and sacred would shift. Dramatically.

Shortly before midnight Sandy and I parted ways: she to her house, me to my hotel. It wasn’t lost on me that the next time I saw her, she would take my name and I would take her home.

In the tension of “yes, but not quite yet” we ran the gamut of emotions in those in- between hours of preparation and realization, consecration before consummation, fine-tuning until finality…one moment we were walking on sunshine, the next walking in the quicksand of time stand still. Waiting. Doubting. Wondering. This is for life, sport. Am I really ready to commit to this? How could I even dare form the question? How many hours yet? Anticipating. Waiting. Then: watching as her face floats up and docks with my conscious thought: ah, yes, she is the one who causes my heart to race!

Until a few minutes after six on August 20, 1983, I had a pretty good idea about Sandy. I had memorized her face–from the gorgeous mole above her left cheekbone to the ‘talent specks’ in her hazel/green eyes. I knew she had a slight discoloration in one of her front teeth from a childhood mishap and a cute, subtle worry line between her eyebrows. I knew the shape and color of her lips that needed no artificial coloring. Yeah, I pretty much had her down.

Yet, all I had in the “yes, but not quite yet” was a blurry familiarity of my girl. It was stick-figure reality compared to the 3-D HD image I would soak in a few hours later. Even still, in my dusky twilight timescape, the image in my mind was Rembrandt in quality. Up until “then”.

And I was in love. Boy howdy, was I in love! I didn’t need any more evidence to convince me I had made the right choice. Or so I thought.

I was pretty composed until the doors of the lobby popped open and a bedazzling white surprise came into view. Suddenly, everything else faded away and I had tunnel vision as I watched this one I thought I had a handle on, move toward me. The most beautiful vision in the room, and she was making her way to me! The transitions from friends to modest lovers and now matrimoniously one was completed. For good. Why would she come to me?

Because nine months earlier I said (not word-for-word translation): “Here’s a crazy thought. Marry me. I promise to love you—and only you—always.” Somewhere in that goofy proposal, for better for worse for life, Sandy could not imagine another life. Thankfully.

Can you imagine “that” Day? The Eternal Day? When all our strifes, burdens, cares, failures, wins, blessings, hardships, doubts, waverings, repentings, struggles, following, pursuing, obedience, disobedience, falling, rising, trusting, warring, defending, sighing, crying and rejoicing—everything we knew of this life and all that was necessary to prepare us for the next—will have run its full course and we will be clothed with immortality. And why? Because, through it all, we believed what He said: “Follow Me, and I will make you…”

Follow Me. Through this narrow gate. Down this narrow road. It’s taking us Somewhere…you will never believe what’s ahead.

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