Come on, Baby--LEAN!!

I was giggling and terrified at the same time.

Vern and I were demonstrating a trust exercise to the 6th graders at Bible study last night. We had pushed against each others hands and walked our feet out further and further until all that was holding us up was the pressure we had on each other's hands.

"Come on, Baby--LEAN!!" my husband Vern said coaxingly. He apparently thought we could walk out a lot further than we already were.

Now you might think that I am an adventurous type of person. I love to camp and ride horses, and I am married to a Texas rodeo cowboy after all...but you would be wrong in thinking that about me.

Because I was fighting my body's panic as I stared at the short distance already between my nose and the floor. To disengage from leaning against Vern meant I would fall to the floor right on my face, which would really hurt. But I was not too excited about increasing the distance between our feet either as the probability of falling became increasingly apparent. This was an adventure I was not sure I should have signed up for.

I dragged my eyes off the ground and looked at Vern. Determination mixed with playfulness skidded across his face. So typical of my man. In his element now. Doing something off the charts with that ridiculous grin on his face that I can't resist. So keeping my eyes locked on his, together we took a few more steps out.

It was daring and extreme and I could hardly believe how far we had gone!

Then, keeping our eyes on each other and pressure on each others' hands, we started to close the distance and finally stood back up straight to a chorus of thunderous applause from the 6th graders.

Kids were eager to try it themselves and the discussion afterwards about who we put our trust in was filled with passion and excitement. Because in a topic like this, Jesus will always steal the show.

But if we are going to be transparent about it, I think I got more out of that lesson than the kiddos did. 

You see, Vern and I have had our struggles in this life that have left us worn out and fed up with ourselves and each other. One step away from face planting to the floor.

Some of you know exactly what I am talking about.

But in that moment when he coaxed me to lean on him harder and our eyes locked--it confirmed for me what I already knew. Vern is trustworthy. He is strong. He is encouraging. He can take it when I lean into him.

And when I focus on those traits of his, I find myself leaning hard into him and as a team we do some pretty darn incredible things.

So Ladies, tonight when the kiddos go to bed, put aside your fed up worn out self. Take your husband to the nearest large expanse of floor in your house. Put your palms together and start walking those feet out. Ask God to remind you of the strong qualities your spouse has so that you will lean harder into that man.

He can take it. But more than that. He will thrive on your trust in him because that is how he was designed by The Creator. 

Together you can do incredible things! So come on, Baby!  LEAN!!

Off-Roading Garling Style Part 6: Scars and Final Thoughts

“Can you still see it?” Vern asked me as I absentmindedly checked for stray hairs I may have missed during his haircut.

“Hmmm?” I hadn’t really been listening, I was so caught up in just cutting his hair. I seem to cherish these simple moments more now since the wreck.

“The scar on the back of my head. Can you still see it?”

I ran my finger along the 4 inch scar at the back of his head, remembering days not so long ago when it was nearly twice that length and raised up off his scalp in a ridge that would oftentimes spontaneously open up and ooze some sort of left over Oklahoma dirt crud that had been ground into his skull during those barrel rolls with our camper last year.

“Yep. It’s still there, but not so obvious anymore.”

I was pleased that it was well-healed now and less likely to do the crud oozing thing anymore. But Vern was disappointed, which made me laugh for a minute. What is it with men and their devotion to scars? Or maybe it’s just my man who loves his scars?

“I hope I get to keep these scars in heaven.” He said with a sigh.

And in that moment, I finally understood at least this one thing about the critter God had given to me as a husband. Vern’s scars are proof to him that he is stronger than what tries to kill him. And that knowledge gives him the courage he needs to rise up and be the warrior God intended for him to be.

Scars don’t do that for me. I carry most of my scars deep inside where nobody can see them. Scars of grief. Hurt. Regret. Loss.

To be completely transparent with you, I have to say that there are many scars I’ve got lurking about inside. And I think, sweet ones, if you are honest with yourselves, you would admit you have many scars too. Perhaps someone precious to you has died. Or a friendship that should never have ended went up with a “poof”. Maybe you were betrayed by a fellow Christian and it left you confused and hurt. Or you have set up housekeeping in a pit of depression and lost all hope that you will ever get out of there. Pieces of your heart scattered to the wind.

And then you convince yourselves (or at least I do) that those scars have all healed nicely. And then something happens to remind you of that scar, and it starts slowly oozing crud again.

What do you do?

Well, I’ll tell you what I do. First, I cry a little. Well, maybe a lot. Because I’m a girl and that’s what we do first off.

But the next step—now don’t miss this one—the very next step is that I go to The One who knows all about scars. I go to Jesus. I dump the whole load on Him. I just keep throwing those oozing scars at His feet and He pours His grace over them every single day for as long as I need Him to do it. Because He specializes in healing Wounds of the Heart.

And then one day you realize that those scars don’t ooze much anymore.

And then one day you realize that Jesus turned the scar into a shield against the things of this world that strain to beat you down and steal your joy.

And then one day you discover that you encourage others by telling them about that scar.

And you find yourself stumbling to your feet, determination flaring from your eyes, and a sly grin on your face that tells the world you have found your purpose, and it’s not to stand in a corner hiding from battles.

Your purpose is to rise up and be the warrior that God intended for you to be.

And it was those oozing scars laid at Jesus’ feet that got you to understand who you are. A child of The King. Loved by Him beyond all comprehension. A Warrior for Christ.

So rise up now! Take your place! The scars—both the healed ones and the oozing ones--are part of who you are!

Scars are most certainly a distinct feature of The One who died for us. By His wounds we are healed (Isaiah 53:5b). So find your way to the great physician. Ask Him to heal you and find your place among those who were lost but are now found. It is time.