Discovering True Intimacy with Our Savior

Slow Your Roll

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I don’t really know how to start this post.  There is a certain pressure to get this right that I almost didn’t write it, but I had to stop myself, because these things need to be said even if they are said imperfectly.

There is something deeply disgusting, disturbing, offensive, and dangerous about the women’s movement in America.  What is even more disturbing is how the American church has seemed to jump on the bandwagon wholeheartedly.  Don’t get me wrong, there are enormous and inexcusable offenses woman have suffered at the hands of men, and those deserve and demand justice.  But that is not what I am talking about for the purposes of this post.

I’m talking about the subtle disrespect that can be seen in an eye roll, or a backstabbing comment, or disparaging remark behind men’s backs.
I’m talking about the “I-know-better-than-you” attitude, and the insistence upon getting your own way and the entitled attitude behind it.
I’m talking about shaming men for their sins and then victimizing yours.
I’m talking about the loud sigh when you don’t see their point.
I’m talking about the insistence upon being seen and heard and validated as a woman.

Ladies:  Get ahold of yourselves and SLOW.  YOUR.  ROLL.  You are making fools of the best of us.  Let me remind you for a moment of the basics from Genesis and that there is an order to the things of God.

Let us remember God chose to walk with man first in the Garden of Eden.  He walked with Adam and talked with him long before we existed.  And we were made from him and for him.

Let us not forget the strategy of Satan in that same garden to deceive us instead of the man because he knew we are easily deceived.

Let us not forget the consequence of subverting the authority of God and of man.  God’s order is for us to be subjected to him while on this earth.  It is our part of the Fall.  And if we are the ones that are easily deceived by the lures of the devil, could it be that is what is happening today?

Be mindful.  Be aware.  The devil crouches like a lion ready to devour its prey.

Is it any wonder men are afraid to lead in the church?
Is is any wonder they don’t want to show up on Sundays to worship?
Is it any wonder they don’t want to be involved?
Is it any wonder they give up on their marriages? Or take a back seat? Or don’t get married at all?

Would I put myself in a position to be constantly questioned and disrespected?

Would you?

Church:  We have a duty to our men and we are failing miserably.  How are we seeking to bring them back into the fold? Or bring them into the fold at all? What are we doing to minister to them as men in a non-condescending way? Where is the committee to make this happen? I’ll sign up because, frankly, I love men.

I love what they bring to the table.

I love their creativity, and their sensibilities to the logical and practical.

I love their strength and wisdom.

I love the protection and provision they intuitively provide.

I love their viewpoint.

Men:  You have a responsibility in this too.  You must forgive us our offenses. You must not sit idly by. You must rise to the occasion and be the men we so desperately need.

Now, I know I’ve probably stirred up a hornets nest.  You might be tempted to lash out with whatever makes you smarter than me.  And I will be the first to tell you, you ARE probably smarter than me.  I want you to know whether or not we agree, your feelings are welcome here.  Express them respectfully.  But what if you paused for a moment to consider why these things impact you in that way?  Is there something you might glean for yourself in what you might consider an unwise viewpoint?  I’d love to hear either way.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

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Wow!  It really has been a minute since the last blog post.  Goodness how time flies when you are running with your hair on fire, and truthfully – with only a minor amount of hyperbole – ON FIRE is how this summer felt, not only because it has been as hot as molten lava in Alabama and sometimes my hair really did  does feel like it was is on fire, but also because my life was waayyy out of control when it came to things that needed to get done.  All were good things, mind you, but there were deadlines and lots of work, frustration, tears, and stress.

There was no day that seemed to have enough hours in it and no day short enough to fast forward through the sometimes hard soil I was tilling. You know what I mean?  I’m sure you’ve been there too in some way or another.

These last few weeks have been fairly low key, and I finally feel like I have some breathing room to sit back and reflect. And yesterday, everything seemed to click into place like a long-lost puzzle piece I’d been searching for.  That is when the tears came.

Of course.

Because crying (and sometimes laughing at the same time) is how I express every emotion I feel.

So, what did I spend my summer vacation doing?  Moving and upgrading my new house.

In retrospect, I look back on that word “upgrading” and realize I was in denial because what actually took place – and, more importantly – the level of destruction it required to get to those upgrades – was clearly renovating.  We’ll chat about that process on a future post perhaps.

But y’all! It was so worth it!  I hesitated for a moment to include these photos because in this day and age, photos can come across as bragging and such.  It kind of makes me crazy.  BUT…If you know me at all, my heart overflows when I get to share things I love and things I learn with those I love, so I hope you’ll see it with those eyes.  There are so many, many lessons God taught me in the process, so don’t think I won’t share those down the road.  But for now…let’s just sit and enjoy the aftermath of good, hard work and lots of blood, sweat, and tears.

Kitchen before….

Can we chat about this room for a minute?  There is not one single thing wrong with it except those cabinets are not my love language, and that floor color is something I haven’t words to describe, and it had two-toned walls of moss green and baby poo all of which I’m sure you can pick up at Home Depot.  But seriously.  This is totally do-able, functional kitchen.  But I couldn’t leave it alone.  I had a hankering for something different.  And like all things Nikol, I just kinda mishmashed the things I liked together and it kinda worked out.  Or at least I think so.

..and after…

And that backsplash…I did it all by myself.  Not gonna lie…I might be bragging about that part.

Living Room before…

That color, y’all.  I called it pumpkin puke.  All of my walls downstairs looked like something that went in a baby or came out of it.

…and for now…

I’m not done with this space, but I still love the transformation.

Master Bath before…

Again, that floor design.  It kind of looks like a baby did a finger mashup of food and other things.  I don’t have words.

…and after…

The monsters love to lay on this rug.  They blend in perfectly.  Can you see them?!  Isn’t that crazy?!  Yea.  I made that up.  But they do love to lay on it.

Great Room before…

I blame this room for the start of all the renovations.  This color is called “baby-poo-you-never-want-to-see.”

This photo is really one of my favorites because you can see all three types of flooring and 3 different paint colors all in one shot.  It longed for unification. 

…and after…

Reunited and it feels so good…one color…one flooring.  Ahhh…feel the consistency.

And that’s it.  That is what I’ve been doing this Summer.  And it was a hard but rewarding endeavor.  It is has only been 2 1/2 years since I had a sanctuary from life’s battles, but it seems more like a decade with all that has passed, and since I felt like I could take a deep, cathartic breath and let go.

And things are far from perfect.  It wasn’t the way I pictured my next house purchase.  And it isn’t with the people I hoped or in the location I was looking. And perhaps those things will come again with time.  But when I would dream of better times, I dreamed of a home that was cozy and inviting in its own way.  I dreamed of a place that invites rest and peace.  I dreamed of a space that calms the mind and gives your soul room to stretch its feet out and just be.  Deacon is feelin’ it…

It is still a work in progress.  Goodness knows I need to hang some stuff on the walls.  But I reckon, just like us, a home is always a masterpiece in progress.  In the meantime, I think this place is a good space to breathe.  So, if you have some time and long for some breathing room, come on over to the country house and relax a bit.  My door is always open, and I’d love to sit and chat with you awhile.

-N

Where Winter Lingers

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She drove a long way to enjoy God’s grandeur. There is something spiritual about staring at the massive mountains He carved by cupping the stone together in His palms and the winding valleys He swept out with a finger.

You can imagine her disappointment as she settled in that morning only to be greeted by a wall of clouds.

“They’re blocking my view,” she thought.

She sat in silence until the Whisperer came:

“Sometimes,” He said, “I have to block the view of what’s ahead, so you will focus on what is in front of you. There are blessings for you in the present. Now. Looker closer. What do you see?”

She examined the landscape nearby unimpressed by its brown and muted colors.  He knew it was a stark contrast from where she came. There, the trees were starting to fill out, and the flowers were blooming. Spring had already sprung.

Yet, Spring seemed far away in this place.  All she could see was dead grass, barren bushes, and bare trees.

“Spring isn’t in this place, because it isn’t time,” the Whisperer whispered. “Where you live it is warmer, and the sun shines brighter, but the edges of Winter linger here. If the trees were to get their leaves and the flowers their blooms, they wouldn’t be able to withstand the harshness.  The beauty would be fleeting.  You see, My timing is perfect and considers all things.”

Humbled by Wisdom, she cried, as she pictured the far away dreams she wanted so desperately. Just as God waits to resurrect the flowers in Spring, so He restores only when the environment can support the beauty He has planned.

She sat again amidst the silence.

The Whisperer waved His hand and, suddenly, four white-tail deer bounded down the steep slope beneath her. She gasped at their beauty and grace.

A smile crept across the Whispers face, “Had you been looking at the horizon, you would’ve missed them.”

 

Fifty-Two Days

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The divorce was final on February 15, 2018. We didn’t even make it to our second anniversary.

There were great days…and good days…and regular days in the 719 we were married, but those seemed to be marred by the hard days. The days when I felt like I was playing catch up trying to figure out…

What was going on…
What went wrong…
What I was doing wrong…
And what was happening?

The 18 months prior to our wedding day were the absolute happiest and most joyful of my life.  I’d venture to say they were his as well.  You see…

I’d prayed for this man for as long as I could remember.
I’d waited for him.

And suddenly, there he was. And I loved him almost instantly.  I know it was good, and right, and perfect for us to marry. I’ve never doubted it. Ever.  Even on the darkest of days.

And I loved being married to him even when it was hard.

Marriage taught me many things. It revealed my flaws, my brokenness, my fears, my hurts, and my weaknesses.   It was ugly.

It taught me how destructive unforgiveness can be: how it creates a cancer of bitterness so deep and wide the fruit is poisonous and words are venomous.

It taught me if your glasses are broken and scratched by the world – you misinterpret things. The more broken your glasses, the more misconstrued your reality.

It taught me we are all broken…
We all need grace…
We all need forgiveness…
And if we have received grace and forgiveness from God, we must give it out as He does: freely.

God taught me there is a spiritual war all around me.
He taught me my spouse was not the enemy. Satan is.
He taught me it is not my battle to fight. It is God’s.
And He is teaching me to be still.

It’s been 52 days since it was official, and by the grace of God, I’m doing OK. There are bad days…and sad days…and regular days…and days when I refuse to let the divorce mar them.

I don’t know why God would take something I’d longed for over twenty years.
Maybe He knew if I endured that, I’d persevere through this.
Maybe through those prayers, He was preparing me for these.

Divorce may have separated us legally, but I believe in the eyes of God, we are still one flesh.  A piece of paper doesn’t change my vows nor the resolve behind them.

So, I pray for reconciliation one day.
I pray for God to restore this pile of ashes I mourn in.
I pray for the Holy Spirit to do His work.
I pray for hearts to be changed and rebellion to be broken.

And I hope.

Maybe that makes me pathetic, or sad, or silly, or foolish. I feel that way sometimes.

So, I’ll smile politely when people tell me it’s a lost cause, or that I should move on.
I’ll see the pity in their faces, and hear it in their voices.
They’ll say kindly, “Maybe God has another plan.” And that’s OK. Maybe He does.

But God has also taught me He uses the foolish and the hopeless of this world to bring glory to His Name. And our faith in Him is pleasing. So, even if restoration never comes, I’ll press on. Because, you see…

I’ve prayed for this man for as long as I can remember.
And I’ll wait for him again.

But Now

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In John 11, Lazarus, Mary & Martha were desperate for you. You were aware of their situation because Your Father was aware, and because a message came to you with the news, “Lord, your dear friend is very sick” (v 3).

Like I said, you already knew the situation.

You knew they were desperate,
but you weren’t.
They didn’t know how it would end,
but you did.

“Lazarus’s sickness will not end in death.”

Two whole days went by, but you hadn’t forgotten your friends. There is no information about what happened in those two days, but anyone who has dealt with a sick family member knows Mary & Martha were wringing their hands, pacing the floor, and begging for a miracle.

They were desperate.
They were weeping.
They felt helpless.

And then….they mourned.

By the time you reached them, he had been dead four days.

Four heartbreaking, sad, and dark days.

Martha was so desperate for your presence she ran to meet you before you made it to the house. “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask.”

“But even now…”

Behold.  Those were the words of hope.

In light of her situation and amidst the finality of death, she still hoped against all hope.

But Mary…Well, Mary was beside herself.

Once the one commended for her adoration of you, she was devastated by the events that transpired. “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.”  She doesn’t have the hope Martha possessed. And neither do those weeping and wailing alongside her.

And that made you mad.

Then, arriving at the tomb, you wept.  Those around you probably thought you were weeping for the loss of your friend, but I believe you wept because of their lack of faith and their hopelessness.

“Roll the stone aside,” you said.  And when Martha’s faith faltered for a moment, you encouraged her, “Didn’t I tell you that you would see God’s glory if you believe?”

If only we would believe, we too could see God’s glory.

Then, you prayed.

At your command, Lazarus came out, and – just as you said – Lazarus’s sickness did not end in death.

And so, we pause to give you thanks…

For your timing – though it may seem late – is always perfect…
And for circumstances that challenge our faith and reveal our hearts.

For knowing our circumstances even when we feel forgotten.

For giving us hope…
And encouraging us when our hope wavers.

For being compassionate…
And for being faithful even when we are faithless.

For showing up…
And for working miracles.

For always hearing our prayers…
And for interceding on our behalf.

For keeping your word…
And for doing the impossible so we will believe.

To you be the glory forever and ever.
Amen.

2017: The Year of Brokenness

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A dear friend sent a message this past week wishing me a happy birthday. He included this comment  “…based on the posts you are looking pretty happy – great for you – you deserve it.”

My heart ached when I read his comment, because somehow, I’d managed to cover up that 2017 was the absolute hardest of my life to date.

I value transparency.

I like real.
And hard.
And honest.

I hate when people are not genuine.
When they pretend to be someone they aren’t,
and somehow I’d become one of them.

I feel guilty for hiding behind a mask.  My life looks all put together and shiny on social media, but in reality, it is not.

Somewhere in trying to be discreet, I’ve hidden the truth.

So, as I reflect on 2017, I want to make sure I shoot you straight because there will be times when we all struggle, and it is important to know you are not alone.

Here are the good and bad from 2017:

Best New Year’s Resolution:
Not making one.

Scariest Moment:
Separating from my husband in mid-June and every day thereafter.

Funniest Moment:
Any day with Deacon is likely to be a trip.

Weirdest Month:
August

Biggest Obsession:
Prayer.  It is a compulsion I am drawn to almost every waking hour.
On a less serious note: April the Giraffe giving birth.

Favorite Read:
I’m working on Prevailing Prayer by DL Moody.

Favorite TV Show:
This is Us  (because I guess I just need more reasons to cry)
Game of Thrones
Stranger Things

Favorite Bible Study:
Going through The Blue Book by Jim Branch with my church.

Best Vacation:
Visiting Bost and his family ranch in Kerrville, TX with Robyn for my birthday.  It was delightful.

Favorite New Experience
Moscow Mules

Best Decision/Best Purchase:
This king size gel memory foam mattress and bed frame off of Amazon.

Biggest Loss:
My family.
I miss my bonus sons;
and my husband.

Biggest Accomplishment:
Developing and implementing a solution at work with Brianne and watching it actually WORK!!  This is our victory flight home.

Best Conference/Concert:
The Writer’s Share at WorkPlay.  In all fairness (and in the spirit of transparency), it is also the only one I attended.

Biggest Disappointment:
2017

Biggest Surprise:
My cousin, Terry, who started responding to commands after being in a coma for many days.  Visit his Facebook page for updates and ways to support them during this difficult time.

Bost taking us to pray over my marriage at this lovely prayer garden in Kerrville, TX. It was just before sunset, and it was stunning.

Most Memorable Moment/Most Embarrassing Moment:
Falling on my face (literally) when I was walking the dogs with my boot.  Thankfully no neighbors saw me.

Biggest Blessing:
As with any hard year, the blessings stand out like sparkling diamonds, and I am grateful beyond words for every one of them.

– Kels letting me and the monsters dogs live with her for about 6 weeks.
– My apartment.
– The love and prayers of my friends and family who’ve stood by me through the brokenness.
– My Life Group who shares their struggles and crises, so no one feels alone.
– Learning what unconditional love and forgiveness require.
– God – who holds me up every single day – and fights for me.

Favorite Gift:
Mary Lane surprising me with this book out of nowhere.  I don’t think I told a soul I wanted to read it, but somehow she knew.

A trip to a friend’s family cabin for a solid week.

Favorite Family Activity:
Watching my eldest bonus son graduate from high school.

Most Awkward Moment:
Writing this post.  I’m still shaking.

My hope & prayer is for 2018 to bring healing, reconciliation, and joy for God’s glory!