Shelley – Page 13 – The Shepherd's Daughter

Author: Shelley

Lessons from the Racetrack

Posted on May 10, 2012August 29, 2013 by Shelley

How child raising is like NASCAR racing.

“Driving a race car is like dancing with a chain saw,” quipped former NASCAR driver Cale Yarborough. If that’s true, then parenting is like dancing with a chain saw held by a toddler! Certainly, NASCAR is challenging. But raising kids is no Sunday drive in the country, either. Fortunately, basic racing principles can keep parents from skidding into a wall.

Find a good sponsor. DuPont, Coca-Cola, Goodyear and many other companies sponsor NASCAR teams. The sponsor provides the resources necessary to the team’s success. The sponsor’s name is written all over the car, leaving no doubt to its identity.

We must also settle the issue of sponsorship in our lives. None of us has the resources to complete the race on our own. Do you belong to Christ? Has He written His name upon your heart?

Assemble your team. A typical NASCAR team may have more than 25 people, including the pit crew and support staff. If we are to succeed in the parenting race, we also need a team. Your spouse should be the most important person on your team. Relatives, friends, baby sitters, teachers and the church are also essential team members.

Get ready to race! All NASCAR races begin with a “rolling start,” meaning the cars are already in motion. Isn’t that just like becoming a parent? The “green flag” drops when the doctor announces, “It’s a boy!” or “It’s a girl!” The race has begun, and there’s no turning back.

Maintain a good balance. When a driver doesn’t oversteer or understeer but goes around the racetrack as if on rails, he is said to be “in balance.” This speaks to me of discipline. Some of us have a tendency to oversteer and may be too controlling. Others of us understeer and are too lenient, not setting healthy boundaries for our children.

Find your groove. The NASCAR Dictionary defines groove as “the most efficient or quickest way around the track for a particular driver.” Child rearing involves many gray areas and uncertainties, so rather than compare and judge, let’s encourage one another, even if someone else has chosen a different lane around the track.

Take frequent pit stops. Drivers know the necessity of a well-timed pit stop. They must refuel, change worn tires and make other adjustments to ensure optimum performance. We, too, need to take breaks to let the Lord refill us through worship and His Word. Spouse date nights and weekend getaways are also important.

Walk away from your crashes. While watching a NASCAR race recently, I witnessed a car skid off the track, fly into the air and land upside down. Amazingly, the driver was unhurt. The TV network, however, took time away from the ongoing race to replay the crash over and over.

Don’t we have a tendency to do that with our own blunders? We all make mistakes; don’t dwell on them. Get up and dust yourself off. Confess any known sin, accept God’s forgiveness and get back in the race.

Enjoy the finish. When the checkered flag finally waves, the winner of the NASCAR race takes a victory lap. Then he heads to the winner’s circle, where he parks for the celebration. What is the finish line for parents? Someday our kids will grow into young adults, graduate from high school or college and head out on their own. After a brief victory lap and celebration, we will move from the driver’s seat to a seat in the stands, cheering our kids on as they begin their own race.

The Battle of the Blog

Posted on April 30, 2012October 4, 2014 by Shelley

I’m baaaaack!

Nearly three weeks, countless troubleshooting hours, one new router (and a hundred dollars) later…

The blog is no longer on the blink!

Victory!

It’s a spiritual victory, because it was a spiritual attack. I sensed this almost immediately. My sweet and computer savvy husband spent an hour and a half trying to fix the problem the night it presented itself, without success. The next morning he left town on a week-long business trip, and there the blog sat, silent and impenetrable.

When every other website works but yours, and everyone else can access it but you, it’s bound to feel somewhat personal. It was too specific and too strange to be coincidence. It took Chris another week after his return to isolate the problem. He still says the whole thing doesn’t make sense.

But bring up the topic of spiritual battle, and people start to squirm. I feel a little awkward addressing it myself, mainly because of misconceptions I’ve had about the subject in the past. Can I share a few of my thoughts and fears with you? Here goes…

Maybe I’m just weird.

I worried that if I mentioned the possibility that a certain situation might be spiritual (or, dare I say, demonic?) in origin, some may think I was losing my grip on reality. I’ve come to believe that the opposite may in fact be true: I’m actually more in touch with it. The spiritual realm is REAL. Just because we can’t see it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. The Bible makes this clear in Ephesians 6:12:

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”

Jesus referred often to the spiritual realm, confronted demons and had a face-to-face encounter with Satan. Call me weird, but I happen to like the company I’m in.

I must have done something wrong.

I used to think that if I was experiencing a spiritual battle of some sort, that I was being punished or had done something to bring it on myself.* But in recent years, I’ve discovered that rather than it being an indication that I’m doing something wrong, it just might be an indication that I’m doing something right. The story of Job certainly gives biblical support to this theory:

“Then the Lord said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him; he is blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil.” (Job 1:8)

He was attacked because he was righteous. I’ve noticed that spiritual attacks often occur in my life after I’ve taken a step of faith to move out of my spiritual status quo. When we transition from a defensive posture to an offensive stance, we become a threat to the enemy and hence, a target.

I’m powerless to do anything about it.

In the past, I would cower in fear at the mere mention of Satan or the suggestion of demonic influence. I was passive, paralyzed. Now I know that rather than assume a victim mentality, there are things I can actively do to fight back. I’ll mention just a couple here:

Resist. “Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” (James 4:7) We are told to flee temptation (see 1 Corinthians 6:18 and 10:13), but to resist the devil. I think we tend to get this backwards: we try to resist temptation while fleeing from the devil! No wonder we end up defeated on both fronts! 1 Peter 5:8-9a expands on the importance of resistance:

“Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith…”

We are not to be intimidated, but rather, stand our ground. I was determined to keep blogging, even if I had to get creative to do it. I wasn’t going to let this silence me.

Wield the sword. Ephesians 6 lists the spiritual weapons available to believers in Christ. “Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.” (verse 11) The Bible is our sword, the offensive weapon which pierces the enemy’s lies: “Take…the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” (verse 17) Jesus Himself used this weapon as He was being tempted by Satan in the wilderness, responding three times with: “It is written…” (Matthew 4:1-11)

Years ago, while preparing to embark on a mission trip to the former Soviet Union, I was involved in an intense spiritual battle which led to paralyzing fear and panic attacks. Victory was eventually achieved after I covered the front and back of an entire sheet of paper with specific Scriptures, written out word for word, combating every fear the enemy could possibly throw at me. He retreated, no match for the power of the Word of God.

Tonight I am once again doing a victory dance.

And you know what? I’m not weird, I’m wise. I’m not doing something wrong, I’m doing something right. I’m not powerless, I serve an all-powerful God!

Woohoo! It’s good to be back!

“But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us.” (Romans 8:37)

* We must be careful not to confuse spiritual attack with spiritual discipline, which is a loving Father’s response to, and a consequence of, persistent sin.

An Issue of Access

Posted on April 23, 2012October 1, 2012 by Shelley

Access: Denied.

Those weren’t the actual words on my computer screen, but they might as well have been. For the past week and a half, every time I attempted to go to my blog I got this instead:

“Internet Explorer cannot display the webpage.”

Every other website is functioning just fine. Except mine. Everyone else can access the blog. Except me. (In fact, the only way I was able to post this was by using Chris’ laptop and an alternate wifi connection.)

This sure feels personal.

It’s as if an invisible wall is keeping me out. My blog remains hidden behind some mysterious cyber-curtain. I feel shut out, closed off, excluded.

I wonder if the ancient Israelites ever felt this way about God…

You see, the Jewish temple was constructed with varying degrees of access:

–If you were a Gentile, you could go no further than the Outer Court.

–Jews could proceed into the Inner Court, but if you were a woman, you could not pass into the Men’s Court.

–Only priests could enter the Court of the Priests, and only certain priests had the privilege of serving, maybe once in their lifetime if they were fortunate, in the Holy Place.

–The high priest alone was allowed access behind a thick, double curtain to the Holy of Holies, where God’s presence dwelt. Even his entrance was restricted to once a year, on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.

This diagram illustrates the many “walls within the walls” of the temple:

God must have seemed unapproachable, inaccessible. He had to be worshiped at a safe, assigned distance. One could only get so close. To actually enter His presence was out of the question.

Until Jesus came and changed everything one dark Friday afternoon.

“With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom” (Mark 15:38-39)

The writer of the book of Hebrews explains the life-altering significance of this event to his Jewish readers:

“Therefore, brothers and sisters…we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body…” (Hebrews 10:19-20)

Like the Iron Curtain, which separated Eastern and Western Europe, the Temple Curtain, which separated God and man, was removed. The Holy of Holies was now open to all who embraced Jesus, the perfect High Priest. Regardless of where we once stood, we have been granted total, unrestricted, glorious access.

“He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit.” (Ephesians 2:17-18)

“This was in accordance with the eternal purpose which He carried out in Christ Jesus our Lord, in whom we have boldness and confident access through faith in Him.” (Ephesians 3:11-12)

I’ve gotten used to my blog being a mere mouse-click away, and am eager to have my full access restored. But in the meantime, I’m grateful for the reminder that the freedom and confidence I enjoy in approaching a Holy God isn’t something to be taken for granted. Because it wasn’t always this way.

Thank you, Jesus, for making Him accessible to all—Jew, Gentile, man, woman, child. I have a new appreciation for what a breathtaking honor it is to be invited behind the curtain. You so graciously welcome us, treating us like VIPS with full backstage passes. And one day we’ll be ushered into the actual throne room of God in heaven.

It’s unbelievable, really. And yet it’s true.

Access: Granted.

“Therefore, since we have been justifed through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.” (Romans 5:1-2)

The Lists

Posted on April 11, 2012August 29, 2013 by Shelley

I…hate…him. I sat up in bed, startled by the intensity of the thought. The dislike I felt for this person had now morphed into something bigger, uglier. I had been hurt, on more than one occasion, by his actions. A conversation earlier that evening had caused the memory of those incidents to resurface. I was well acquainted with Hurt, and quite familiar with its companions, Anger and Bitterness. But this new, dark stranger named Hate lurking at the entrance to my heart frightened me.

How did I get here? I wondered, alarmed. Hoping to gain some insight by writing, I pulled a half sheet of paper from my Bible cover pocket. I began retracing my steps, listing the offenses that had caused the hurt. After an hour or so spent recalling and recording his sins, I slipped the page back into my Bible and turned off the bedside light.

The next evening, I heard a knock at my heart’s door. This time it was Humility, gently suggesting I take a look at that “log in my own eye.” I pushed past Pride as I reached for my Bible and the nearest piece of paper, and began compiling my own list: My Sinful Reactions to Being Hurt. I was surprised at how quickly the ink covered the page. Words like: Disrespect, Critical Spirit, and Self-Righteousness stared back at me. It was also no surprise to see Anger and Bitterness putting in an appearance. This wasn’t exactly a Top Ten list of Christian virtues.

Lord, please take it away, I silently pleaded as I surveyed My List. It wasn’t pretty. I wanted to be forgiven, to have the slate wiped clean, to rip up that piece of paper and throw it in the trash.

Up until that moment, I hadn’t paid much attention to the writing on the opposite side of the page. As I turned it over, I saw that it was His List from the night before! I had unknowingly grabbed the same piece of paper and written right on the back of it. Examining the two lists, I was struck by how minor and trivial his offenses seemed in comparison to mine, like little “specks” beside my “log.” Yet I was still reluctant to let them go.

Jesus’ words from Matthew 6:14 came to mind: “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.” I had never fully understood that concept. Wasn’t God’s forgiveness free, without any conditions or strings attached? Couldn’t I get rid of my list, but keep his? After all, I might need it for future reference.

Flipping that double-sided piece of paper back and forth in my hands, God pointed out my double standard. It suddenly made perfect sense. Just as it would be impossible to destroy the front of a page without obliterating the back, the two sides of forgiveness were also inseparable in His sight. If I wanted my sins gone, his had to go too.

Grace and Mercy embraced me as I accepted God’s forgiveness and told Him I would also forgive my offender. I held the paper, My List facing up, and began to tear it into little pieces, once again hardly noticing the writing on the other side. I bid farewell to Anger, Bitterness, Hate and Company as they retreated on the squares of paper fluttering to the trash can below. Then I made my way to bed, devoid of lists, but full of Peace.

‘R’ Rated Eggs

Posted on April 6, 2012August 29, 2013 by Shelley

(Bet THAT title got your attention!) Yesterday I retrieved our “Resurrection Eggs” from their storage bin in the basement. I wanted to make sure they were ready for our Easter brunch this Sunday. If you’re not familiar with them, they are a tool designed to teach children about the events leading up to the resurrection of Christ. They consist of a carton of brightly colored plastic eggs, each egg containing a small object and a corresponding Scripture which explains its significance. We’ve made this a part of our family’s Easter celebration for years.

But for some reason, this year, as I inspected the contents of each egg, I was struck by how gruesome the story actually is. It’s just not that family friendly. It easily contains enough violence to earn an ‘R’ rating. I can see why many families prefer fluffy chicks and hopping bunnies at Easter. They’re much more cheery.

The Resurrection Eggs tell a graphic story of…

Betrayal: A cup, foreshadowing rejection. A feather, representing disloyalty. Thirty pieces of silver, purchasing treachery.

Violence: Leather strips, for a flesh-tearing flogging. Thorns, for a painful, humiliating crown. Nails, well, we all know what those were for. A Roman crucifixion was not a nice way to die.

Death: A spear, an ancient death certificate. Strips of linen cloth, wrappings for a burial. Spices, a mixture to help preserve a corpse. A stone, sealing a coffin/tomb.

Sad, sadistic, and sobering is this story. And this is the sanitized version. (Watch “The Passion” if you want to see one truly worthy of its ‘R’ rating.) Good Friday is a great time to pause and reflect on the terrible suffering Jesus endured on our behalf. And the fact that He thought we were worth it.

But that’s not the end of the story. There’s one more egg in the carton. It’s the one that none of the kids ever wanted to open. Because there’s nothing in it.

Hope: An empty egg, an empty tomb. A Risen Savior!

Don’t you just love a happy ending? The story IS violent, heart-wrenching and hard to stomach in parts. But its timeless message is beautiful and simple enough for General Audiences everywhere:

Jesus saves. Jesus lives.

“When they had carried out all that was written about him, they took him down from the cross and laid him in a tomb. But God raised him from the dead…” (Acts 13:29-30)

Sometimes Spring Comes Early

Posted on April 1, 2012January 26, 2014 by Shelley

Spring has come early to Wyoming this year. And I honestly haven’t known what on earth to do with it.

I can still vividly recall our first Wyoming spring 16 years ago. The one I longed for and thought would never arrive. It was May, and the trees were still leafless silhouettes, the kids’ small frames still padded with winter coats.

I inoculated myself against Spring Fever that year.

When newcomers to this part of the country express their desire for spring in February, I just shake my head knowingly. Winters are long in Wyoming. April IS the snowiest month here, after all. Give them a year or two of disappointment and they’ll learn.

Too many early winters and late springs can make one a bit jaded.

Spring can be quite the tease. When she sauntered into town the first week of March, I stoically ignored her flirtations, keeping my snow boots and sweaters close at hand. But for once she actually stuck around. After nearly a month of disbelief, I’ve finally been coaxed out of hibernation, reluctantly persuaded by her persistent peace offerings of greening grass, budding trees, and glorious sunshine.

I’m wearing sandals today.

Life can be disappointing. We try to shield ourselves from hurt, wrapping our hearts in bulky layers to protect them from the bitter chill of unfulfilled desires. “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me,” becomes our unspoken mantra of distrust. But what we sacrifice in the process is a sense of expectancy and hope. The heart that suppresses its longings, to guard itself from disappointment, becomes deadened, cold. Like the winter snow pack, it, too, needs to thaw.

Let’s not become so jaded by past disappointments that we are numb to life’s surprises. Let’s not become so distrustful that we are unable to embrace God’s unexpected gifts. Let’s fling the door open, venture outside and experience the new things that He has for us.

Because sometimes…spring comes early. Even in Wyoming.

The Wall

Posted on March 30, 2012May 29, 2016 by Shelley

Exactly forty years ago this spring, my father was navigating a plane over the jungles of Vietnam. I was eleven, the oldest of three children in our family, and the one old enough to understand the harsh realities of war. That year marked the end of my childhood.

It was a very difficult season. Not only were we separated from my dad, who was in a war zone, but my mom eventually suffered a breakdown from the stress and was hospitalized, leaving my brother, sister and me in the care of a neighbor. Since it was near the end of his one-year tour of duty, my dad was summoned (safely, thankfully) home. My mom recovered, and our family was whole once again. It was a year we were glad to put behind us and rarely discussed.

A few years ago I mentioned to a Christian counselor how dark and bleak that time was, how it felt like God was nowhere to be found, and how I still sometimes struggled with those feelings and fears of abandonment. He encouraged me to ask God a simple question:

“Lord, where were You?”

So I posed the question to the Lord. And got nothing in response. Silence. A blank screen. The counselor suggested I wait. God would answer the question in His time and in His way.

Several months passed. Still no answer.

One Saturday afternoon while flipping through the television channels, I happened upon a PBS program about the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall. I had heard of this Washington D.C. memorial honoring those who lost their lives in the Vietnam conflict, and was eager to learn more about it. Seventy polished black granite panels comprise the wall, which stretches nearly 600 feet long and is ten feet high at its peak. Each panel is engraved with the names of those who perished or went missing, in chronological order. There are a sobering 58,272 names in all.

I watched the screen intently as visitors to The Wall scanned the seemingly endless columns for the name of a loved one. Tears fell when they finally spotted the familiar name etched in shiny ebony. Some traced the letters lovingly with their fingers. Many stopped to place a piece of paper over the spot to make a rubbing as a memento. Others left behind flowers to mark a sacred place on that silent wall.

The moving and thought-provoking program ended, and I proceeded to take a shower. As I tipped my head back into the warmth of the water, God whispered these words to my soul:

I was watching over your dad while he was in Vietnam, so you wouldn’t have to make a trip to that wall someday.

His voice was inaudible, yet clear and unmistakable. I was deeply touched by this tender expression of His love for me. And I had my answer. He hadn’t abandoned my family, even though it felt like He had. Though I had no conscious awareness of His presence during those dark days, He was there, and at work, carrying out His sovereign plan.

In December of 2010, I had the opportunity to travel to Washington D.C. with my own almost eleven-year-old daughter and the Cheyenne All-City Children’s Chorus. One of our stops was the Vietnam Memorial. A guide directed me to the section of the wall representing the year my dad served. Quiet tears of humble gratitude slipped down my face. By the grace and mercy of God, I was not there on a pilgrimage in search of his name.

Yet as I walked the length of that somber memorial, tears of another kind of gratitude stung my eyes and obscured my vision. Gratitude for those who did pay the ultimate price in service to their country. Gratitude for the sorrow their loved ones endured on behalf of an often ungrateful nation. And gratitude for a God who is greater than our grief and bigger than all of our unanswered questions.

Vietnam flowers — Photo taken at the Vietnam Wall, December 2010

Place of Rest

Posted on March 28, 2012August 29, 2013 by Shelley

My cell phone vibrated on the table next to me, and the screen lit up with the name of a dear friend and fellow believer. I opened the phone (yes, I am still stuck in the Technological Dark Ages) to quickly scan her text:

I have a favor to ask. Would you state the 1st thoughts that come to mind for each of the following? *Definition of rest. *List some reasons why resting may be difficult.

She was working on a Bible study and was w-rest-ling with the topic of “Rest.” So she decided to employ one of her “lifelines” and phone a friend. Unfortunately I was in the middle of something when the text came through. I made a mental note to get back to her as soon as I had a free moment, then snapped my phone shut. (Good thing a million dollars wasn’t at stake or I might be minus one friend.)

Several days (this may be a conservative estimate) later, I remembered The Text. The one I had neglected to answer. The one I had also inadvertently deleted. (I may be minus one friend after all.)

Perhaps I could still respond. If I could only recall the question. It was something about “rest.” Oh yes. How would I define rest and why is it difficult to rest?

Here is the first thought that came to mind:

Rest is knowing you are loved.

One way I have learned to distinguish the voice of God from my own thoughts is that His voice usually startles me with its clarity and conciseness. It’s typically something that I wouldn’t have come up with on my own. Like that definition of “rest,” for example. I also know that He will never contradict what He has already communicated in Scripture, so I went there next.

“May the LORD grant that you may find rest, each in the house of her husband.” (Ruth 1:9)

This was Naomi’s prayer for her two recently widowed daughters-in-law. She equated rest with the safety and security found in the marriage relationship. Because life without a husband in that culture and time would have been anything BUT restful.

One of the sweetest things Chris said to me early in our dating relationship was that he just wanted me to feel “secure.” I loved the way I could relax in his presence. I didn’t have to perform to impress him. I felt completely accepted and unconditionally loved. In his love, and in the marriage commitment that followed, I could (insert big sigh of relief here) REST.

The good news is that regardless of whether we are currently married, never married, or newly single, we have a God who desires to be that loving husband to us. He spells out His intentions clearly in Isaiah 54:5:

“For your Maker is your husband–the LORD Almighty is his name–the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth.”

I just want you to feel secure.

Like a groom on his wedding day, He vows His love and commitment to His bride a few verses later:

” ‘Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,’ says the LORD, who has compassion on you.” (Isaiah 54:10)

I love you with an unfailing, unshakable love.

When we know we are perfectly and unconditionally loved we can “cease striving, and know that (He) is God.” (Psalm 46:10) We don’t have to perform to earn His love and favor. We can relax in His presence. It’s like sinking into the comfort of a warm bubble bath. Ahhhhhh.

Rest is knowing you are loved.

I feel compelled to ask in closing: Have you found this place of rest? Have you entered into a covenant relationship with the One who pursues you with an unstoppable love? Jesus proved that love by offering His life in exchange for yours. All you have to do is respond with a heartfelt “I do.” (And would you please let me know if “you did”?)

No one will ever love you like He does. You can rest in that fact.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a text message to send.

Answers and Abundance

Posted on March 23, 2012August 29, 2013 by Shelley

Lately I have been overwhelmed as God has answered specific prayers and surprised me with unexpected blessings. My cup overflows!

What follows is today’s entry from my daily devotional. I thought I’d share since it echoes my recent experiences and captures the essence of abundant life in Him. Plus, He expresses it much more eloquently than I can! Enjoy and be encouraged!

“I am a God of both intricate detail and overflowing abundance. When you entrust the details of your life to Me, you are surprised by how thoroughly I answer your petitions. I take pleasure in hearing your prayers, so feel free to bring Me all your requests. The more you pray, the more answers you can receive. Best of all, your faith is strengthened as you see how precisely I respond to your specific prayers.

Because I am infinite in all My ways, you need not fear that I will run out of resources. Abundance is at the very heart of who I AM. Come to Me in joyful expectation of receiving all you need–and sometimes much more! I delight in showering blessings on My beloved children. Come to Me with open hands and hearts, ready to receive all I have for you.”

(From Jesus Calling by Sarah Young)

Adjust

Posted on March 20, 2012August 29, 2013 by Shelley

I can always tell when my husband has driven my van, because I can’t reach the pedals or see out of any of the mirrors. Before I can go anywhere, I have to make some adjustments. Often I’m running late, like I was this morning. I grumble under my breath at the inconvenience, as I pull the seat up and adjust the rear and side view mirrors.

I think this is a lot like marriage. Throw two people together, both with unique personalities, different backgrounds and styles of relating, not to mention all the little idiosyncracies and quirks. And adjustments will be required. Continually. Repeatedly.

Chris and I have been married for 21 years. Please hold your applause. Because you would think that after 21 years we’d have it figured out. Don’t get me wrong–we do get along and enjoy each other–most of the time. But there are still those annoying areas that keep tripping us up, where we have neglected to make some needed adjustments in order to understand and relate better to each other.

Husband and wife counseling team Milan and Kay Yerkovich, in their book How We Love, compare the marriage relationship to a dance, which each partner enters with the dance style they learned from their family of origin. It would be unrealistic to expect a classically trained dancer and, say, a street dancer to be in step with each other, much less pull off a praiseworthy performance.

So it is in marriage. We must take two completely different dance styles and backgrounds and blend them into one new dance. It will take time, effort, and practice. Toes will be stepped on. Humble apologies, mutual compromise, and continual adjustments will be necessary.

I looked up the word “adjust” in the dictionary, and was challenged and encouraged by the very first definition I read: “to bring to a more satisfactory state.” As inconvenient, time consuming, and uncomfortable as these adjustments may be, the end result will be a more pleasant and satisfying relationship.

So what is all of this saying to me?

Quityerbellyachin.

Make some adjustments.

They will make for a smoother dance and a more enjoyable ride.