Ann – Page 19

Dating Your Spouse: No Excuses

April 8, 2015 by Ann Leave a Comment

My newest piece is up at Todays Christian Woman, entitled “5 Reasons to Avoid Date Night (But Why You Should Date Your Spouse Anyway). Michael and I have had a standing date every week of our married lives–this article shares my heart behind why we’re so committed to dating one another in every season of life!

We’ve all heard about the importance of consistent dates with our spouse. It sounds ideal—a romantic date every week—but there are a thousand reasons why it feels difficult (if not impossible) to make happen.

Here are five reasons to avoid date night. Oh, and why you should date your spouse anyway.

1. “Dating Is Too Expensive”

If you’re talking about the versions of dating that pop up on social media and TV, then, yes, you’re probably right. Expensive restaurants, Broadway shows, sparkling jewelry—most of us would be thrilled if we got a date like this with our spouse once a year, or even once a decade. Because those kinds of dates, with the wining and dining and trying to impress each other all the time, aren’t feasible for most of us.

But there is something that is feasible: connection. Connection comes not through the amount of money spent, but the amount of heart invested. Some of the best dates my husband and I have had took place during walks at the local arboretum. Strolling on the paths, we had time to unfold our hearts to one another and to enjoy holding hands in a lovely setting.

Connection comes not through the amount of money spent, but the amount of heart invested. Share on X

Now that we have a child, if we want to have any meaningful connection, it usually has to take place after she’s asleep or when we’re out and she’s with a babysitter. We try to have a date night out at least once a month. If we’re paying for a babysitter, our date is usually cheap (or free). We go for walks in the park, have coffee at a local café, or read part of a book together at the library. Make a list of cheap date night ideas with your spouse and pick one!

If money is really tight and there’s no option for paying a babysitter, consider swapping childcare with friends. You can also get creative with at-home dates. Turn your phones off and cook a late meal together after the kids go down. Watch a unique film you’re both interested in, and if you are so inclined, talk about it afterwards. Get competitive with a card game. Relax with a new flavor of ice cream bought especially for date night. What you do doesn’t matter as much as the choice you make to invest your time and attention in one another.

2. “I Don’t Have Time”

If you let other people control your calendar, then, yes, you’re probably right. There’s always going to be one more meeting, project, or sports practice that you—or one of your kids—has to be at. But ask yourself this: Would you ignore your child’s query for dinner as easily as you can ignore your spouse’s (or your own) need to talk?

Would you ignore your boss’s requests for that deadline as easily as you ignore your marriage’s need for connection time? Share on X

We make time for what we value. If you value your marriage and the person you made a covenant at the altar to love, you need to make time for your spouse.

Prior to marriage, many of us had months—perhaps even years—of lavishing time upon one another. Dates stretched into hours upon hours of conversation and laughter. We prioritized our significant other above other relationships and our time bent toward him accordingly. While we may not have time for hours-long dates any more, we can make intentional time for one another if we really want to. We can say no to another meeting, no to another sports team, and no to another obligation. And in the process, we can say yes to a standing date with our spouse on Tuesday nights or Friday mornings or Sunday afternoons—no excuses. Just as no friendship is sustainable without consistent connection, no marriage will thrive without consistent time together.

When you put a consistent date night on the calendar, you’re telling your spouse that you value your relationship above all others. It’s worth it.

3. “My Marriage Is Beyond Help”

If your marriage is in a difficult place, sometimes the thought of spending intentional time together feels confusing—or even painful. The idea of a night full of forced conversation (or lackluster intimacy) may not be your idea of a good time. But if a marriage is going to heal, connection has to start somewhere. And dates don’t always have to be fun to be meaningful. Sometimes working through deep issues on a date night is just as important as laughing together.

Perhaps your date nights don’t look like a cozy evening on the couch or a hand-holding walk through the park. Where can you start? Might a meal together outside of the home provide an opportunity for conversation that doesn’t revolve around the kids or work? Could a morning jog together offer a chance to connect in a different—and still meaningful—way? Would you be able to attend a Bible study or small group together?

If all of this still feels too hard, it might be that your dates need to be at a counselor’s office, where you can work through pain in a safe environment. The point of a “date” is to get closer to your spouse. Don’t assume that dating your spouse has to look one particular way. Start where you are, and move forward from there.

Read the final two reasons here, over at Today’s Christian Woman!

If you liked this post, you might enjoy: Dating Your Husband: The Hows and Whys.

Was this blog post encouraging to you? I would be honored if you would consider partnering with me as a writer! Click here!

Filed Under: About, Dating Your Spouse, Life, Marriage Tagged With: Christian marriage, Christianity, date night, date night ideas, dating ideas, dating your husband, dating your spouse, faith, healthy marriage, is date night worth it, Jesus

Good Friday and the Ache in Our Soul: How Jesus Meets Us

April 2, 2015 by Ann 2 Comments

This is an adaptation of a post I wrote last year; I still feel this ache at Easter this year…

It seems that I tend to travel a lot during the Spring; this year has been no different, with a trip to what will soon become our new home city, a short trip to the Redbud Writer’s Retreat, and a trip down to Dallas this past weekend for a conference. And so, this past weekend was the third weekend in a month that I was away from home—something very odd for me. Michael and I love traveling, but I am a homebody at heart, and I love having consistency in my life. Yet one of the sweetest things about traveling, for this homebody, is the longing that develops in me when I am away from home. There is a familiar ache that bubbles up, whether I am in Wisconsin, Colorado, or England—the ache for a place where I know the corners of the rooms, the ache for a place where the walls and bed and blankets are familiar, loved, home.

And that feeling knocks on my heart at unexpected moments: when we were in Grand Rapids this past year, for example, my mother drove us past her childhood home, her elementary school, and her family’s church. My grandpa was a Methodist minister, and so she moved several times as a child, but it was in this city that she started going to school, and her memories of Grand Rapids are vivid. I loved seeing bits of her life through these buildings—the house where she lived, the steps she climbed on her first day of kindergarten, the steeple of the church where my grandfather preached. And although those places were not mine, I felt that old ache flutter again.

C.S. Lewis has written about this ache. In “The Weight of Glory,” he writes,

These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.

“News from a country we have never yet visited.”

Home.

Easter, which we are looking toward, is about many things. But in one sense, it is about home. It is about Jesus making a way for us to be able to enter the Home that we were created for. It is that “country” we keep hearing news from—that ache that bubbles up, that longing that draws us to beauty and goodness and light. The ache for wholeness, and freedom, and perfection—the ache for heaven.

Jesus is the only one who could become the doorway for us to that Home. His body, broken and torn, became the doorway that allows us to enter in and walk into right relationship with God. And through the doorframe of that empty tomb–his resurrection–we get to enter into that home with him, forever. He crossed the threshold from death to life and held the door open for us, too.

Christ's body, broken and torn, became the doorway that allows us to enter into right relationship with God. Share on X

Home. It is what we long for, ache for, desire. In these days of Holy Week leading up to Easter, we can remember afresh that because of the great cost Christ paid for us on the cross, and because of the great miracle of his resurrection, we have an answer to all of the aching and longing that we find in our own hearts.

We can remember that we have found our truest home—in Him.

*If this blog post was encouraging to you, I would be honored if you would consider partnering with me as a writer! Click here to read more!

Filed Under: God, Life, Truth-Telling Tagged With: ache in my heart, ache in my soul, Christianity, Easter, faith, Good Friday, heart tired, Jesus, Lent, longing for home, soul tired, what does Easter mean, What does Good Friday mean, What does Lent mean

When Pruning Feels Like Dying

March 26, 2015 by Ann 3 Comments

I started class today with a writing prompt for my students: How have you changed since the beginning of this school year? Do you like who you are becoming? Why or why not?

It’s a vulnerable question, maybe one I shouldn’t ask after only three class sessions together. But we only have seven weeks here, in this sacred space of a classroom, and I want our time together to point to Truth. I want our minutes talking about writing and words to be bubbling out of some place deeper than my own expertise and training. I don’t want to be the center of the classroom. I want Jesus to be.

And so I ask hard questions.

And they respond.

Two students raised their hands to read their responses aloud today; one of the students mentioned that she was living on the vine but felt the pruning work that was being done on her life.

She was referencing John 15; it’s Jesus, here, saying these words:
“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you.Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”

In tree language, pruning is the act of cutting off some of the branches for the benefit of the rest of the tree. Often, it is the dying branches that are pruned, or the diseased branches. They are pruned–cut off–so that new growth can occur.

And here is the startling realization: Jesus told his friends the truth–that those closest to him, those walking with him and bearing great spiritual fruit for the Kingdom? They are the ones who get pruned. It feels so backwards; those walking with Jesus are the ones who get things cut off, tossed aside?

Yes. Because cutting away the old is often the only way for new, healthy growth to occur.

I thanked my student her for her honesty. And what came tumbling out of me there, in front of the class, was this:

“Sometimes it feels like the pruning will kill us, doesn’t it?”

The student nodded. Others nodded with her.

This pruning–those places where God starts cutting away the things we don’t want to let go of, the things we feel like we need–it can be so hard. So heart-wrenching. So painful. It can feel like what is being taken away is more than we can bear, is more than we want to bear.

I think of this season in my own life; the ways that old things are being cut away in order to make way for the new. We are moving to a new town; my sense of security and home in our current city is being cut away. We are leaving our jobs; my sense of identity in what I do is being cut away. My husband will be a full-time student; our consistent income is being cut away. And there are moments, days, even, where I don’t want to do this. I want to walk with Jesus more than anything, but leaving everything we have and everything we know–the cost feels so very, very high. It feels like dying to so much of what I love and what I want.

But good tree pruners, I’ve learned, know that the tree can’t handle much pruning at a time. Little by little, with time in between to heal–that’s how a tree is pruned well. And I am sure of this, that God is a good pruner. He is love itself. He knows just what we need and he also can see the good that is coming from our pruning, even if we can’t.

And I spoke to my class. It feels like the pruning will kill us sometimes, but there’s better news: “We won’t be killed by it. Because there has already been One who was killed on our behalf.”

Jesus, the Vine we are to stay connected to–He is the One who took our ultimate death. He did that so that the smaller things we die to here on this earth–things that are truly painful, that truly cost us much–He died so that our pain here won’t end in pain. His resurrection leads us to real life, abundant life, eternal life. And His presence with us gives us the strength to walk through this current pain knowing that it won’t kill us; He has already been killed for us.

He died so that our pain here won't end in pain. Share on X

There are days when the pruning feels like too much. I know it, too. But as we walk toward this Easter, let us remember: death has been defeated, the grave overcome with life. In these days that can feel so difficult, we will not be undone. Christ is with us, Christ is for us. His death paid for ours. Though we are being pruned, we are not being killed. We are being offered the truest life–life found in Christ, life that never ends.

Filed Under: About, God, Life, Ministry Tagged With: abiding in Christ, Christianity, does God love me, faith, how to know God, I am the vine you are the branches, I feel like I'm dying, Jesus, John 15, life is hard, losing everything, prune, pruning, vine, when it feels impossible, when it feels like I'm dying

How Lent Reveals the Gospel in Beautiful, Powerful Ways

March 18, 2015 by Ann Leave a Comment

During my early years, I grew up in a church that wound its way through the months by following the liturgical church calendar. We had different-colored banners up in every season of the year, based on what was being observed in the cycle of the church. The ministers wore stoles over their robes–long pieces of fabric in vibrant hues–that matched the banners and proclaimed the season that the church was in.

When my husband and I attended an Anglican church for a couple of years, the colors, banners, and robes took on a new significance for me. These practical reminders taught me, spiritually, how to live into time as a Christian. As a student and now as a professor, my life tends to be built around the academic calendar of semesters and summers. At that church, I learned a new way of relating to time through color.

I have been thinking about this because the Church universal is now in the season of Lent–the period of time between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday that is meant to draw our hearts and minds into somber reflection. It is a season of spiritual preparation and repentance as we consider the cost that Christ paid for our sin, and Lent is a season of spiritual preparation and repentance as we consider the cost that Christ paid for our sin. Share on Xas we anticipate Holy Week–the week leading up to Easter.

Unlike the blazing red of Pentecost, or even the lively green of “ordinary time,” Lenten Sundays are full of the rich purple of royalty. The color reminds us, the people of God, that the King is making his way to victory, even though the victory initially looks like defeat. It reminds us of the royalty of Jesus even as he humbles himself all the way to death on a cross.

But then comes Holy Week, and with it comes a dramatic shift in hue. Although colors differ from church to church, in my memory Palm Sunday is red, looking ahead to the blood that Christ will offer on our behalf. Maundy Thursday, the night both of communion and betrayal, is white, a simple color for a somber day. But in the late hours of Maundy Thursday, the altar, cross, and banners are stripped bare of even this white fabric, leaving the symbols of faith as naked as Christ became.

Good Friday is sheathed in black. The color of mourning, the color of death. In my town, on this singular day of the year, a prominent church in the area unfurls three huge, black panels between the columns of their church entrance. They flap all day as a reminder that death is near–and that death must come before life.

In Christ, death is turned to life; mourning is turned to joyful celebration. Share on X

Easter, in color as well as in truth, turns everything on its head. In Christ, death is turned to life; mourning is turned to joyful celebration. Resurrection–the reversal of the normal order–occurs. White is the color of the day, a reminder that he who first appeared plain–a Jewish man who was betrayed and killed–is actually more than a man. This simple hue is also, wonderfully, a reminder that white is actually the confluence of all color, and that in the resurrection, Christ has renewed all things. Nothing is outside of his healing, restorative resurrection.

Although I am no longer part of a liturgical congregation, I find myself drawn to the richness of the tradition, and to the power that simple things like colors have to tell us about the Gospel and about how we fit into the larger story of the Church. I may not see the banners and the robes on a weekly basis, but I try to remember the significance as I walk through the Lenten season.

In these days leading up to Easter, I want to more fully ponder the royalty of Jesus, this one who left his heavenly throne for an earthly cross. I want to remember the simplicity of this god-man who was stripped bare and bled. I want to take time to mourn the true death that he died, and then to anticipate the upending power of the resurrection and the newness that he brought to all life.

I want to color inside the lines of the Gospel story this Lenten season, by letting the Gospel seep its color into me.

Filed Under: God, Ministry, Truth-Telling Tagged With: Black Friday, Christianity, colors at church, Easter, faith, Good Friday, Gospel, Jesus, Lent, lenten colors, Lenten season, what do colors mean, why is Good Friday black

The Gift of a Good Fight

March 13, 2015 by Ann Leave a Comment

If you know me, I don’t love conflict. But I have grown to appreciate the necessity of fighting–how it can lead to deeper intimacy in friendships, in family relationships, in marriage. My newest piece is up at Today’s Christian Woman, about this very thing.

I was out of town when I received a voice message from my friend Gwen. I’d been at a conference all day and couldn’t be reached, so I sat in the hallway and listened to her words. She was hurt, she mentioned, by something I’d said earlier in the week, and she wanted to know my intentions behind it. Had she misunderstood me?

I sighed.

I dislike conflict—especially conflict with people I love. Three or four years ago, words like this from a friend could have sent me into a tailspin. I would have felt anxious and unsure about our relationship, questioning her love for me and our friendship’s footing.

But this time, I was sighing because she was right. I was sighing because I knew that I needed to apologize. I was sighing because, honestly, I was tired of being a sinner. I was tired of hurting the people I love the most.

I connected with Gwen, explained my intentions, and repented for where I had sinned. She was more than gracious. She was loving, and she forgave me. And I wasn’t worried about where we stood; I knew our friendship was solid.

For someone who used to avoid any form of argument as much as possible, I felt oddly buoyed by the realization that I was, in fact, getting better at this conflict thing.

The Grace of a Fighting Friend

Gwen is nothing if not honest. When we became friends, it quickly became apparent to me that she never shied away from conflict.

When our friendship grew closer, I learned she also wasn’t afraid of a fight. In fact, she welcomed it. She was never bullheaded or self-righteous, but if there was something between us that didn’t feel healthy to her, she brought it up. I initially had a difficult time reconciling Gwen’s welcoming attitude toward conflict with friendship. The two seemed to be at odds.

But Gwen’s friendship has been a grace in my life. I’ve learned that conflict, handled well, leads to intimacy. And the inverse is also true; intimacy can’t exist honestly without conflict.

What Holds Us Back from Conflict

I wish conflict didn’t exist. My preference is that relationships could roll along without any fights, arguments, or disagreements. But if we get up every morning and actually interact with other humans, we know that conflict—or at least the possibility for conflict—is everywhere.

Read the rest of the article here, at Today’s Christian Woman!

Filed Under: Friendship, God, Life Tagged With: Christian, Christianity, faith, fighting, fighting fair, friendship, gift of a good fight, good fighting, how to fight fair, how to fight well, Jesus, marriage fighting

Squeezed for Time and Resting in God

March 10, 2015 by Ann 1 Comment

When you’re juggling a lot of roles–wife, employee, mom, student, friend, sister–or any other number of roles–it can feel like there’s no margin in our lives. We feel tired, exhausted, maybe even worn-down. And in that mental state, it can seem harder and harder to believe that there’s some sort of dim light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. I have days where it feels like my season will never change–that I’ll always feel tired, or that I’ll always be pressed for time.

And you know what I’m having to come to terms with? That might actually be the case. From now until I die, I might always feel hard-pressed, squeezed, even, for time. In his book, The Sacred Journey, Frederick Buechner writes about how children are the ones who live “below time;” they do not experience time in the same way as adults do because they do not yet have a sense of its earthly finiteness, nor do they carry the responsibilities that we do once we grow up. At some point, though, all of us open the door unto time and find ourselves living within the reality of limited days. Most of us are always a bit wistful for the days of carefree timelessness. But we cannot go back.

And so, yes I have lost that sense of timelessness, of freedom away from the clock. I have roles and responsibilities that will forever keep me from being free of the constraints of time. But I would not trade those good things for unhindered freedom. Every thing that truly matters requires tethering, especially love.

Every thing that truly matters requires tethering, especially love. Share on X

And so I am tethered to these roles and responsibilities, and sometimes I feel like I might break under the weight of them. But then I find that I am able to bend a bit more, and I find that I’m living in the grace of Christ, who does not break those who are already bending. He upholds us. He strengthens us. He fights on our behalf.

So, then, how can I live peacefully when time always feels thin? Well, in the midst of unending demands and requirements on our time, it is important–even necessary–to give ourselves time to rest. I’ve already written about why I believe the Sabbath is so central to our rhythms of weekly life, but on the smaller scale of day-to-day life, how can we rest? How can we allow ourselves to take short breaks in the midst of our days so that we don’t break under the weight of our responsibilities?

There are many ways to do this, but here are five of my favorite, simple ways to rest daily:

1. Connecting with Christ. This is so important for me–I’ve written more about it here, but the fact is that unless I’m staying close to Jesus, everything else feels overwhelming and stressful. Half an hour with him in the morning shifts my mindset toward His priorities and gives me the grace I need to do all that I’m called to do. This can look different for all of us, but my time with God in the morning includes reading the Word, praying, and journaling.

2. Choosing Gratitude. It’s amazing how quickly thankfulness can change my attitude and my perspective. If I can make the choice to say–out loud–three things that I’m thankful for, I’m usually humbled to bits–in the best sense. I have been given so much, and God is with me through it all.

3. A long(ish) shower. I’m not joking. When you can close (and lock!) the door, a shower offers a little time to let my brain rest, let my body rest, and let my senses rest. If you have time for a long soak, even better!

4. Five minutes in silence. Put down the phone, the remote, the headphones. Sit, quietly, and try to let all of the tension seep out of your body. Ask God for a fresh dose of His peace in your heart, mind, and bones.

5. A hot drink in the wintertime, a cold drink in the summertime. The sensory power of being refreshed or warmed is something that often brings me a few moments of pleasure, gratefulness, and peace–if I attend to my senses and allow myself to slow down.

Even in the busy days that most of us find ourselves in, there is grace from Christ to live peacefully. Small steps like these can help us slow down and be present in the life that we are living–they can even help us meet God in the midst of the busyness.

Filed Under: God, Life, Marriage, Motherhood Tagged With: burn out, burnout, busy, Christianity, daily ways to rest, daily ways to rest so we don't burn out, faith, God rested, hope, How do I rest, how to not burn out, Jesus, life, refreshment, too busy, ways to rest