Glue Is Better Than Duct Tape

Sept. 18, 1976

Don't Tracy and I look like babies in this wedding photograph?  We must have been.  I sure don't feel old enough to have already been married for 36 years.  

But 8 kids later, with 18 grandkids and counting, we're pinching ourselves to make sure we aren't imagining the whirlwind this life together has been.

May, 2008--we have lots more now and need a new picture!

We're celebrating today.  Not because our love has been perfect--far from it.  We've fought, clawed, and stumbled through a big chunk of this life together.  It's a mercy we even made it through the first year, much less through the struggles and temptations and shortcomings that followed.

We knew we didn't have much in common when we started out.  Basically, only Jesus.  And there were times we wondered if that would be enough.  

It was.

So, we're celebrating because Jesus has held us together like glue.    

That has been the fulfillment of this Scripture that was printed on the napkins at our wedding: "By Him all things hold together."  Col. 1:17  God took two separate, flawed, stubborn individuals and made us one.

Tracy and I couldn't patch up our marriage by ourselves. There wasn't enough duct tape in the world. We'd made too many mistakes.  We'd sinned and let each other down.  Not just once, but time and time again.  Only the Lord could do something deep down where the cracks and broken places cried for His touch.

That would be tremendous enough.  But what is even more amazing is that we actually like what He formed from our lives.  

Our marriage has become a safe place.  A place to grow.  A place to take risks.  A place to experience unconditional love.

And as we've grown together, we've been so blessed to find that our interests and delights have also merged. No, I still don't like to golf or sleep in a tent, and Tracy isn't going to use his free time to read a novel.  But we just like being together.  Sharing hearts and going to rummage sales and working side by side at our ministry fund-raisers.

July 27, 2012 with my brother Timmy Yates at his son Jacob's marriage to Bethany Goertzen.
Older, grayer, and more tired--but we're still smiling.

We went from being needy and self-centered to having something to offer one another.  It's mature love.  Not dependent on fading beauty or charm or what's in the checkbook.

It's not always fun.  Sometimes it's just work.  And a hard season can sure last a long time.  

When somebody sticks with you through all the icky junk, it can be out of a sense of duty.  But when that person also wants to wrap his arms around you and tell you he loves you when he's seen you at your worst, that's love.  When he reminds you you're still his best friend, that's love.  When he'd rather be alone with you than watch tv, that's love. The real deal.  

And those sweet words and actions re-ignite the flames of love, giving us the desire to stick it out because we love each other, not just because it's the "right" thing to do.

This morning I felt another Lover wooing me to come away with Him.  I have to admit, I felt a little bit like I had nothing to offer Him except my service to Him.  I felt like I could identify with the church at Ephesus.  They worked diligently for the Lord without growing weary.  They were patient.  They didn't tolerate evil-doers.   They recognized false leaders. Most churches would love to have people like that in attendance!  But Jesus said He had one thing against them: they had left their first love for Him. (Rev. 2:1-7)

His remedy for leaving their first love for Him was to remember how it used to be when He was everything to them.  Then to repent and do the first works they did back in those days.

I thought back to the early years of giving my life to Jesus.  I felt so alive!  I couldn't wait to meet with Him as I read His love letter to me (the Bible), sang praises to Him, and lifted my needs to Him.  My first works for Him were mostly just getting to know Him.  Spending time with Him.

And I was so needy--I was desperate for Him.

So this morning, I asked Him if He expected me to be that needy again.  It's hard to feel that way when He has been so good to you through the years . . . I'm satisfied and blessed.  

I was surprised to sense that He was asking for a more mature love.  Not one based on that old neediness that was all about what He could do for me, nor one that is focused only on what I do for Him.

But a love that realizes I have something to offer Him now, too.  That's shocking, but it's true.  He wants me. And He wants you.

Tracy feels my love for him most when I open myself to him.  Letting down the walls so nothing is hidden.  Trusting him with who I am.  Admiring him for who he is.

Is it possible that Jesus also feels my love most when I hold nothing back?  When I let Him see me, even though I know I'm flawed?  When I trust Him and admire the beauty of His character?

Song of Solomon is a picture of the love between a king and His lover.  From that story, I know something about the love of my King.  His love is better than anything.  I can trust Him when He wants to draw me away with Him.  I can take off my veil because He knows me better than I know myself, yet He loves me still.

Like Queen Esther, I can prepare myself for His presence by putting on what He has provided for me.  The oil of gladness.  Robes of righteousness.  Even ornaments of gold and studs of silver, which is like the wisdom gleaned from His Word.  My sweet perfume is the rising of prayers to His throne.  

He lets me rest under the shade of His protection.  He satisfies me with a banquet that is provided by His love.

I long for His embrace.  He holds the promise of spring and all it entails--life, fruit, blossoms, and singing.  He asks me to go with Him to a quiet place in the cleft of the rocks where it's just Him and me.  It's a place of belonging, where He is mine, and I am His.  

We're one. Held together like glue. It's a miracle of His Spirit, performed at the new birth and made stronger every time we come away with Him.  

Kim Jobe's song "The More I Seek You" says it best.  This version:

- Choreography: Edouard Lock 

- Ballet: La La La Human Steps
- This video made by: Birdiej89

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YXygCLso9U

Getting There

This is the first post about our recent trip to Swaziland and Mozambique, Africa.  I'll do my best to keep them coming!  :)  

Tracy, our 16 year old daughter Anna, and I packed into the wee hours the night before we left, double checking our lists and crossing off each item that made it into the suitcases.  I’d started days earlier, but planning to be gone for an entire month still pushed me into last minute scrambling.  We were zipping up the bags with relief, looking forward to finally shutting our eyes for a few hours, when one of the suitcase zippers busted.

Panic set in. There are no department stores in Buhler, and we were too tired to drive into Hutchinson. Solution? Leave early enough to make a Wal-Mart run before our flights the next morning. So we fell exhausted into bed with our alarm set to roll us out in plenty of time and a prayer for grace that all the details would work out fine.

Our son Nathan picked us up and got us to the store in Wichita. We found a bag that would suffice, paid quickly, and suddenly realized there wasn’t room for it in the back of the Jimmy.  So we juggled things and held bags across our laps.  Hadn’t thought through to how long it would take to transfer all our stuff to the new suitcase, but with sweat beading on our backs, we finally crammed every item in, sure that we’d still have plenty of time to make our flight.

Of course, that didn’t take into account that the printer for the luggage was on the blink at check-in.  Nor could we have foreseen that the clerk didn’t have the correct information for what to do with an overweight bag.  I assured her that I could pay extra to have up to 70 pounds, but she searched through pages of documents to try to find the information herself.  She couldn’t see it, so she made a phone call and was on hold a long time.  Now we were really starting to sweat as minutes ticked away.

I could imagine how uneasy our friend and team member Jana must be getting since we hadn’t yet shown up at the gate. But the clerk wasn’t in a hurry at all. She was way too calm to suit me. I wanted to give her an injection of adrenaline.  I could have made coffee nervous by then! I kept looking at the time, wringing my hands, and biting my lips. Okay, and my tongue. I sure didn’t want to say anything that would make the clerk move any slower just to spite me!

She finally realized we were going to miss our flight, so she said she’d take my word for it and ran my credit card.  By then the printer was working, so she handed us our paperwork and shooed us to security, cautioning us that we had about ten minutes to make it.

Naturally, security was also stressful. They decided they needed to run my carry-on bag through twice and open it to visually check my powder supplements. My driver’s license fell behind a table—I didn’t see it happen, but thankfully one of the TSA employees did. I had to run to get to the gate. Jana was as antsy as I’d suspected she’d be. She’d texted our oldest daughter Sara, who like Casey from Texas, was meeting us in DC, so she’d called to find out what in the world was going on. But we made the flight.

Our flight in Houston was delayed, though. So when we arrived in DC, we didn’t even get to give Anna a proper goodbye or last minute instructions before leaving her for an entire month. Just a fast hug and a nod in the general direction of baggage claim where our son-in-law was going to pick her up. She was terrified that she’d get lost. I was worried that I couldn’t remind her about checking her blood sugars or taking good care of her niece and nephews for the month. We had to trust that the Lord would watch over all of us—and it had to come to us on the run.

Literally! We raced to the gate where Casey waited where all but one of the other passengers were already boarded. The clerk at the gate determined our carry-ons were too heavy, so those had to be checked. But at least we made it, once again. It barely registered that we’d hugged our oldest daughter Sara hello in DC, too, as she showed us where to hurry to our gate. We caught our breath, gave better hugs, and settled in for the final 18 hour flight.

Jana and Sara ready to catch up now that they live more than 18 hrs. apart--and would have 18 hrs. in the air!

We had an hour delay while fueling in Dakar, but it allowed us to stand up and stretch a bit. We got to know Casey a little bit better in between cat naps and shuttling to the airplane toilet. 

Casey and me with my infamous neck pillow

I read, watched a movie, prayed, and walked the aisle. And dreamed of what our journey would bring to each person on the team.

Yikes, Tracy and I started the trip already completely exhausted!  Not sure if the poor guy beside us was really into his movie or just couldn't stand our snoring.  Yep, we're mouth open sleepers. Ewwwww.

Because all the stress and rushing and near misses aside, our anticipation was intact. Getting there was just the first step in a month long journey that was filled with potential and the call of God on this team of five. We knew with everything in us that none of the trials of getting there would be able to take away even a tiny bit of the joy we would discover once we met the Africans, young and old, that He had planned for us to interact with.  We were ready for the unknown future because of the faithful God we know.

And I can see that our years on this earth are a lot like our flights that took us to Africa.  Filled with challenges, requiring patient waiting on others who might not share our sense of urgency, hurrying up to wait. Feeling like our interactions with loved ones are just a blur as we rush by because it’s going too fast.

Our lives are but a vapor, a grass that quickly withers. Hardships are guaranteed. But when we finally reach our heavenly destination, all of the struggles of getting there will quickly fade. And the unknown will lose every hint of fear because we know the King Who prepared for our stay.

Getting there is just the first step.

And so worth the trip.