Worth – Women of Purpose

Watching four children walk up stage to express love for their father, in tears, broke me a little today. Two of the girls were engaged and had lost their dad just before their weddings. Everyone was in tears, and what they loved most about the man who passed away was his love for gathering with others and creating spaces where people enjoyed each other’s company.

I knew it was true because I’d experienced it from him, too. He was always interested in meaningful conversation and as his daughter said, “He made me feel like I was the smartest woman in the room.”

What a beautiful thing for a daughter to be able to say.

But what can we all do to create the same sense of love and belonging as he did?

I love birthday parties where we all gather in a circle and take turns sharing what we love about the birthday person.

Sometimes, a birthday gift is a remodeled bathroom, like this son did for his mother.

Usually, he or she is squirming—and I wonder why we are all so uncomfortable with encouragement, as if perfection was needed before we accept that we truly are a blessing in so many ways.

We usually hear most of the good about someone at their memorial service when they are no longer there to hear it. There’s not a person on earth who doesn’t need to know they are needed, loved, and valued while they’re living.

It hit me, this thing of living as if we were dying. Someday, I’ll be in the grave. I have four children, too.

I bought a house yesterday, then called my oldest daughter last night to check in on her. A mother’s nest is never empty, even after her babies have flown. “What are you doing this weekend, and do you want to join the other kids and I to have dinner at the new house, and just hang out there together?”

She jumped on it. And I remembered a week prior that she’d asked me to please invite her to do things with us. I’d been a little surprised because I thought she knew how much she was loved and wanted in this family—by her mother, especially.

I agreed quickly. She was twenty years old, and I wanted my ceiling to be her floor. If she never had another woman wanting her to pass her up and go far beyond, she’d have that from her mother. And I always wanted her around. But, she needed to hear it.

The man who passed away had been able to travel and do expensive things, but I’m a single mom. Often, as I’m working, I open Instagram to see my friends flying to other places of the world with their husbands, relaxing by turquoise colored waters with a margarita in hand. Sometimes they’re surrounded by happy children—and I think of my own, and how I want to give them all the above, too.

I may not be flying to the Bahamas, but I can order pizza and gather my kids into the new kitchen that’s actually 118 years old. I won’t hear my daughter express excitement over flying to Europe, but I’ll hear her say, “I can bring my own children to this house someday” and I realize that creating home for children even after they’re adults is far more meaningful than being able to fly to another country for a week or two.

We’ll always look back and laugh over the days we drove six hours in one day to have about the same amount of time at Wilmington Beach. How we’d pack sandwiches so we wouldn’t have to buy coastal food, and how we’d head three hours home when we wanted to head to the closest hotel room over looking white sand and crashing blue waves.

We won’t be sinking into soft white pillows to the sound of waves; we’ll be driving through the sunset with sand between our toes and the younger kids falling asleep brown from the sun and stomachs full of ice cream because we decided to spend at least a little bit of money that day.

What will matter is that we gathered, we laughed, we expressed appreciation for each other. And here’s the thing, mamas out there—your sixteen year old may gripe about the food in your pantry but when she’s twenty, she’ll re-word her complaints into “I can’t believe I used to gripe about your food, mom. You bought food for four children and I’m just feeding myself.”

Parents, don’t compare yourselves to others who can do more. Like Mary did when she poured ointment on Jesus’ feet, let’s do what we can with what we have. When Mary was criticized and told she should have done something different with her oil, Jesus told the critics to leave her alone, and said, “She has done what she could.” (Mark 14:8)

Some of us don’t do what we can do because we’re focused on what we can’t do. I want us to live fully and take what we have with both hands, hold it, ponder it, and then give it out—first of all to our families, then to those around us.

Let’s live as if we’re dying—because one day, our tongues will be silent and our hands will be still.

I want us to gather as if tomorrow was the last day we were able to see others.

I want us to steer conversations into words of life that give grace to those who hear them.

I want us to live FORWARD because we know the Father of mercies, the God of comfort, and the Spirit of healing and hope.

Let’s not wait for a memorial service to express appreciation for each other; let’s live as if we are going to die.

Because we often say, “I’d be willing to die for you.” Can we say with equal confidence “I’m going to live for you”?

Because only in living well can we die well. And only in dying to ourselves, can we truly live.

“Except a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.” John 12:24, ESV

It’s weird how we can sit in cafes or walk streets, expecting everyone to be kind, even though most are complete strangers to each other.

We all just kinda know how humans are supposed to treat each other.

Most of us wouldn’t be too impressed with someone yelling at a customer or someone receiving a favor without saying thank you or showing appreciation of some sort.

We’d probably wrinkle up our noses and be happy we can walk on. Some people are just yuck and make us glad we don’t have to be around them.

And if someone continuously criticized a friend, that friend would probably either confront the problem, or quit hanging out as much.

Negative actions usually cause negative responses.

But, this simple principal seems to be forgotten by many spouses. So I’m writing from my heart here, and just asking this:

1. Do you ignore your spouse—yet get hurt when you’re not pursued?

2. Do you avoid conflict—yet remain bothered that your spouse doesn’t know how you really feel about something?

3. Do you continually give negative or correctional responses when your spouse shares an idea or simply vents his/her feelings—yet get hurt when they close off and don’t want to talk?

4. Do you avoid helping out—yet carry a grudge when your spouse doesn’t help as much as you want him/ her to help out?

5. Do you ignore them when they speak—yet feel hurt when they don’t look at you when they speak, but choose to focus on another person in the room?

6. Do you make your dislike of them known—yet become hurt when they don’t pursue you in the bedroom?

7. Do you treat them as little more than a room mate—yet complain when they don’t date you well on special events?

I’d like to call attention to the fact that people often treat strangers better than their own spouses. Strangers who may be a million times worse than your spouse, strangers with whom you have no connection—hear this carefully—are getting better treatment from some of you than your spouses are getting.

That very stranger would keep distance if you treated him/her as you treat your spouse. Withdrawing to avoid more pain is a natural response of the human heart.

There’s a story of a man who greatly disliked his wife and went to get counsel. His therapist told him that he could divorce her after three months IF he tried the following recommendation first.

He was to go home and treat her as if he genuinely LIKED her.

We can picture what this meant. Smiles, kind words, acts of service, hanging out, and all the things we do with our best friends.

His therapist waited in vain for the man call, then finally called him. He was ecstatic. “I treated her as if I liked her, and everything changed”

You better believe there was no divorce for that couple! Simple, basic human kindness and dignity re-ignited their love when it would have otherwise been snuffed right out and the courts would have seen one more broken couple filing divorce papers while their children’s eyes take on a whole other look than the care-free, joyful ones they previously had.

So I’m here to say to every unhappy spouse who is married to a faithful, albeit imperfect, person: Just take a big, bold dare to love them, and show it. This can be the bravest thing you do. And sometimes, this dare to actively show love does more than many hours in a counselor’s office.

(To those who’ve tried this and nothing changed, please know that loving is something we do because we’re connected to God more than because we’re connected to our spouse. Sometimes, loving well doesn’t change a drastic need in a spouse. In those cases, we simply do what God asks us to do, then leave the rest. We are not responsible to change another; we are responsible to love well, then trust God with the results.)

Remember this–we love because God loved us first. Loving well is something every person does who sees the value God places on each human being.

Loving well is not optional when we see the great love God gives us personally. Loving well is part of our own dignity, character, and value. In Christ, it is who we are. Someone else’s character cannot rob us of God’s character and grace within us.

Treat your spouse as well or better than you treat your best friends, and watch what happens! If you know what it takes to stay a friend to someone, please know it takes the same kind of thing to create a happy marriage where both of you find the companionship you crave.

For the cause of LOVE,

Sara