3 Ways to Make Your Marriage Better

February 10, 2015 by 8 Comments

Better Marriage

Michael and I are leading a couple we love through some premarital counseling right now–something we always feel so privileged to do–and I’m reminded, again, why we are so committed to our marriage and to marriage in general.

Marriage, more than most other relationships, has the power to harm and to heal. Share on X

Marriage, more than most other relationships, has the power to harm and to heal. And in the daily grind of life and relationship and kids and jobs, sometimes our spouse gets the short end of the proverbial stick. They get our frustrations and our shortness, our exhaustion and our failures. They often get our worsts.

But our spouses also get our bests–if we let them. 

It’s a sad reality of life that we often become the most flippant and casual with those we love and need the most. If familiarity doesn’t breed contempt, it can at least lead to a unspoken type of expectation where their presence and love is expected rather than treasured.

I don’t want to live that way. I want to live in an intentional, joyful marriage.

Here are three ways to offer your spouse your bests in the relationship:

1. Speak the language of thankfulness. 
In a healthy marriage, there is a give and take of responsibilities and tasks that has to be accomplished every week just to stay afloat. Bills have to be paid, trash has to be taken out, meals have to be made. When we start expecting those things of one another without being appreciative for the work and energy those things require, we miss an opportunity to cultivate joy.

Thank your spouse for what he does. Does he leave for work every morning? Thank him for being faithful in his job. Does she balance the checkbook and pay the bills? Thank her for her consistency and excellence. Thank him for changing that diaper. Thank her for cooking that meal. Gratitude offers dignity to mundane tasks–and it shows an awareness of how much our spouse does for our life to keep it moving forward.

Gratitude offers dignity to mundane tasks in marriage. Share on X

2. Make time for one another.
When we invest in people, we learn to love them. Our children, our friends, even our colleagues–when we really hear their hearts, we often can’t help but love them, to one degree or another. When we neglect getting meaningful time with our spouse, we can drift apart more easily because we forget about their hearts and dreams and thoughts.

So set up a recurring lunch date, or make the half hour after the kids go down a sacred time for the two of you to talk–really talk. Get a weekend away if you can (yes, even if it takes more time and energy to set it up than you will be gone). Make your relationship a priority with your time–we invest in what we value, and marriage is no different. 

We invest in what we value, and our marriage is no different Share on X

3. Do something unexpectedly kind.
Surprising our spouse with something we know they will love–a meal out, a backrub, a box of cookies–tells them that we care about them, that we think about them, and that what matters to them matters to us.

You don’t need to spend a lot of money–what matters here is thoughtfulness. So what can you do, today, to show kindness to your spouse? Wash the dishes when it’s his turn? Put gas in the car? Bring flowers home? Surprise him with a night out, complete with a sitter and a reservation?

What can you do today to make your marriage better–and stronger? Consider putting one of these ideas into practice today!

Still Waiting by Ann Swindell

Filed Under: About, God, Life, Marriage, Motherhood, Parenting Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Secure and Steadfast: Learning to Trust

January 28, 2015 by 3 Comments

SECURE and STEADFAST-LEARNING TO TRUST

Some of you may already know, but it’s not something I’ve shared in this space yet: we are moving this summer, to a new city and a new adventure. My husband will be in graduate school for the next three-ish years, and we will be closer to family as he studies and works on finishing his degree.

There are so many things I’m excited about in this transition–a new city to explore, new relationships to form, being next door to my sister, opportunities to grow. Most of all, I’m excited to follow the Lord, as this is the next door he has opened for us in this great journey of walking with Him.

But I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t nervous, too. I’ve lived in Chicagoland for all of my adult life; Michael and I have been in this same city for over a decade. We have a rich community of friends and a church that we love. We have jobs. None of these things that have been so central and grounding for us in this town will be present when we move this summer.

And so it feels like starting all over again–and, in many ways, it is. As a recovering control-freak, all of the details of moving–selling the house, looking for jobs, finding a new home, making new friendships–these have the ability to freak. me. out. If I spend too much time thinking about those things, I start spiraling into a mental place of worry, fear, and doubt. I imagine all of the things that could go wrong and all of the ways that this move might not go well.

But God is continually calling me back to one thing: trusting Him. I mentioned it on my Instagram account earlier this month, but my word for the year is TRUST. I always need to trust Jesus, but this year in particular, when all of the cards of our life are up in the air, I feel the need to trust God in a deeper way, perhaps in a way I haven’t felt the need to trust him before. I need to trust him, deeply and wholeheartedly, with our family’s finances, our family’s friendships, and our family’s future. Because I have no idea how any of those things will get worked out in the next six months.

And yet, hasn’t this always been the case? Of course it has; it’s just that the trusting hasn’t felt as desperate in the past. I have always needed to trust God to give me even my daily bread, but I don’t always think that way. In truth, I have nothing apart from him and I am nothing apart from him. But when life starts rolling along, that desperation of needing to rely on Jesus tends to fade for me.

So here I stand, at the start of a year that will look nothing like it does at the end of it. In twelve months, nearly everything externally will have changed. But Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever, and I am aware of my deep need to trust in him afresh. Trusting is difficult at times; I don’t always feel a deep sense of security or safety. But trusting God does not always mean that we feel secure or steadfast–it means that He is secure and steadfast, regardless of our feelings.

Trusting God does not mean that we feel secure or steadfast--it means that He is secure and steadfast, regardless of our feelings. Share on X

He is constant in his kindness, his salvation, and his love. He is a good Father who gives good gifts to his children. I can rely on who He is even when I’m not sure where I’m going–practically or emotionally. And so this year, I am choosing to trust him, again and again. He is good, and his love endures forever.

He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?

I can count on Him to lead us and care for us. You can, too. Here’s to a year of wholehearted, un-hindered trust in Jesus–the One who is completely trustworthy.

Filed Under: About, God, Life, Marriage, Ministry, Uncategorized, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

The Wonder-filled Power of Words: Thoughts on Teaching, Writing, and Words

January 21, 2015 by 5 Comments

I spend two days every week teaching college students about creative writing. I don’t teach them how to write; that is a simple but complex art form that most of us work out over the course of a lifetime. Rather, we spend most of our hours together discussing works of literature, practicing techniques, and experimenting with various stylistic choices. Through reading, we seek to understand what other writers have done well. Through writing, we seek to discover our own voice and ability as we try new things and push the boundaries of what we are used to doing with language.

I love my job. LOVE. MY. JOB.

Yesterday, I left the classroom on a professional and spiritual high. Because yesterday, we were talking about something I’m ridiculously passionate about—the power of words. Oh, the surprising power of words. Words shape us. They shape how we see ourselves; they shape how we see God. Long after a conversation or interaction, the words we hear from others can sting and wound, or they can bind up and heal. Words reveal our hearts—they point to what’s really there, and they often bubble up from places in our souls deeper than we understand.

In class yesterday, we talked about the fact that God spoke the universe into existence with a word. We read the first five verses of the book of John and were reminded of that beautiful and timeless declaration that Jesus is, himself, the Word—and that who God is and how he is are bound up in the power of words.

Power of Words.1

How amazing, then–how surprising and wonder-filled–that we should share in this mighty power of words. How incredible–how difficult to believe–that God would entrust us with words. We are privileged and charged with using these tiny instruments for good. For peace. For encouragement. For hope. For glory–His and not our own.

I have my students read Walter Wangerin’s An Ethic for Aesthetics, a beautiful consideration of how one author has covenanted with God and his community regarding the ways that he will use his words. And we talk about using words with intention and wisdom, with power and with grace. And we talk about how hard it is to do these things well, and how necessary it is to have empathy for others if we are going to write about them, and how necessary it is to have grace for ourselves if we are going to write about ourselves.

Words shape who we are, and they shape who we become. At the beginning of time, God used words to shape all of creation into its beautiful, spinning presence. And at the end of all days, the Word himself will return and right all things that have gone wrong. I ache for that day. I long for it. And until that great return of the Word turned flesh turned Lamb turned King, I will seek to use my words to point to him.

At the end of all days, the Word himself will return and right all things that have gone wrong. Share on X

These unassuming marks on screens and pages, these syllables that bounce out of our mouths and bubble up from our hearts, they matter. So deeply. Let us be those who use them to right the wrongs that we can, to love the hearts that need binding up, and to speak to ourselves–and to others–the Truth that came through the Word made flesh.

Filed Under: About, God, Life, Uncategorized, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The Gift of Celebration, The Gift of Friendship

January 14, 2015 by 16 Comments

Celebrate well

I’m a celebrator by nature. I love throwing parties, surprising people, and making up excuses to celebrate the people I love. I love being the one to gather friends together to show them why they are worthy of encouragement, attention, and time. Celebrating is a love language for me.

But my birthday falls in January, which, I’ve found, is not a great time to have a birthday if you like celebrating. For most of us, January is recovery month. We’re tired, we’ve used all our vacation time, we’ve made New Year’s resolutions that forbid us from eating sugar or carbs, we’re sick of seeing people, and we just spent a lot of money at Christmas. We’re tired of celebrating once January rolls around. We want to hibernate. We want to hole away.

Therein lies my problem; birthdays are special to me.

But then, last year, a friend asked me how I would feel most loved for my birthday. She wanted to celebrate me, she said. Even in her asking, I felt loved. And I told her the truth: I wanted to be with my closest friends, and I wanted to share a meal together. No gifts, no songs—just time gathered around the table.

And that is what happened, in the cold and dreary month of January. Ten of us shared a meal. We paid for babysitters so that our conversation could go deep; that in and of itself was a precious gift of time and money. Each friend surprised me by sharing an encouragement for my coming year of life. They told me how they saw Jesus at work in me, and they prayed for me. I sat there and felt deeply celebrated, and deeply welcomed into the new year of my life by the friends I loved the most. In my memory, it remains a holy and beautiful night.

To me, I have come to realize how that night encapsulates what is meant to be at the center of every gathering; in fact, what is meant to be at the heart of friendship. For true friendship is a kind of gathering. It is pulling people together around a shared table or on a soft couch, and it will cost us in time and even in money. True friendship means giving those things that my friends offered to me on my birthday night—time, encouragement, intentionality, welcome, love. And true friendship is celebration; it is seeing what is worthy of encouragement in those we love and declaring those things over them. It is seeing the presence of Jesus in the other and acknowledging his beauty through them.

Birthdays only happen once every twelve months, but gathering to celebrate those we love—to speak truth and hope and encouragement to them and over them—that can happen any time of the year. We can gather in coffee shops and pray for one another. We can gather on playgrounds and encourage one another. We can gather around kitchen tables and welcome one another. We can gather in restaurants and celebrate one another. And we can gather, always, and love one another—no matter where, no matter when. 

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: About, God, Life, Writing Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Faith is Spelled R-I-S-K

December 11, 2014 by 5 Comments

“Faith,” I heard a pastor say several years ago, “is spelled R-I-S-K.”

Scripture, of course, gets the final word on defining faith, and the book of Hebrews tells us that “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” But I see the connection between the Scripture and the words of my pastor, because being “convicted of something we do not see” requires a certain amount of risk. Think of Abraham with a knife in his hand, holding it over his son, Isaac. Think of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, refusing to worship an idol and being flung into the blazing furnace. Think of Daniel continuing to pray even though he knew there was a pit of lions waiting. Think of Esther approaching the king without being summoned. Think of Mary, unwed, saying yes to carrying the Savior. Think of Matthew, leaving the tax booth and a steady job to follow a poor rabbi. And think of Jesus, hanging on a cross for sins that were not his. All of these men and women risked: they risked their security, they risked their reputations, and they risked their very lives because they believed. Because they were people of faith.

But risking is scary business. I can’t imagine that Abraham wasn’t shaking when he held that knife overhead, or that Daniel wasn’t knocking his knees when he faced the lions. Mary was probably afraid of what her family—and the town—would think when her belly started growing. And Jesus himself was so overwhelmed in the garden that he was sweating drops of blood before his betrayer came.

Faith is spelled RISK

In my own life, too, faith and risk seem to go hand-in-hand. Several years ago, when God called my husband into full-time ministry, our church was unable to pay him—and wouldn’t be able to pay him for at least five months. God was asking us to step out in faith, trust him, and take the job anyway. I was scared; it was risky. We had a mortgage and bills, but we said yes. And God met us in our need. He provided.

And a little while ago, my daughter and I were circling the grocery store. As we passed one of the employees, I felt a nudge from God. I knew what I was supposed to do, but I hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, feeling the social awkwardness of breaking the silence between two strangers and—gulp—trying to talk about Jesus.

Finally, I walked up to her.

“I’m sorry; I know this is kind of random, but I’m a Christian, and I really feel like God wants you to know that he loves you.”

She looked at me, and immediate tears came to her eyes—and mine. I felt the love and presence of God there in that aisle in the grocery store. And I knew that Jesus loved this woman more than I could ever have imagined.

“Wow,” she said quietly. And then, “thank you.”

I nodded. We chatted a bit longer and talked about faith and Jesus; I invited her to church.

At the grocery store that day, God was asking me to step out in faith and take the risk of not knowing what to say or how she would respond.

But even in that small risk, I met Jesus in that place.

So when we walk into our daily risks of faith with our hands shaking and our knees knocking and our bank accounts dwindling and our grocery carts circling, we don’t have to go with great confidence.

We just need to go, fear and all.

Because we will meet Jesus there.

Filed Under: About, God, Life, Ministry Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,

Receiving Grace: Friendship that Points to Jesus

September 17, 2014 by 2 Comments

Things have been a little quieter around here, in large part because I’m back to teaching. But they’re also quieter because I’ve intentionally pulled back a bit. I’ve realized, over the last month, that my heart simply needs more time away from the screen, and even from the words that I love so much. More time to rest, more time to think, more time to journal, more time to pray. I need more time with my husband, I need more time with my little girl, I need more time with the women who hold up my arms as a new mom and are in these beautiful and difficult trenches with me.

Ann Swindell + Life with a Toddler

I have been feeling soul-tired lately, and when that happens its time to get back to the basics: Jesus, family, friends, sleep. As a chronic over-achiever, I would like to think that I can push through anything, but that’s not the case.

And, so, I am slowing in the ways that I can. And I am opening up these soul-tired places in me to my friends. I am sharing my life with them so that they can speak truth, offer encouragement, and point me to Jesus. These are the things we have been doing for each other for years; lately, though, I find I am more on the receiving end than usual. And that’s ok. We all have seasons where we need others to offer their strength to us. I’m grateful.

My real-life friends are central in this journey I am living. But next week, I am also thankful that I get to go and make some new friends–and turn online friends into real-life friends. I’m headed to the Influence Conference, which focuses on keeping Jesus at the center of our online lives–something so beautiful and so necessary.

For those women who I will meet there, we are sharing a link-up. So here’s a bit about me: I’m a wife, mom, pastor’s wife, and college instructor. I was in school for most of my life as a student, and now I’m still in school–but on the other side of the classroom. I teach creative writing and creative nonfiction courses to college students, and I love it. I also write for multiple publications and love speaking to groups of women. My husband is my best friend and February will mark 10 years of dating (we’ve been married for 8+ of those years). I hope we have a good 60+ years left together! Our daughter, Ella, was born on our seventh anniversary and she is a delight!

I’m very much looking forward to the Strategy classes, and you’ll rarely find me without a cardigan (I get cold easily…and I’m a teacher. Ha!).

I’d love to meet you online as we prepare for #influenceconf, and I’m so looking forward to giving you a hug in person next week! Here’s to making much of Jesus!

Filed Under: About, God, Teaching Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,
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