Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Part Deux: My testimony. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

If you missed Part One, read the post HERE before starting this one...or you'll be sincerely confused.  I'm just sayin'...


Okay...now where did we leave off...

I hadn't wanted to go.  But Travis insisted.  "She's your old friend from college, you should go to her party."  So, reluctantly, I packed up for the weekend trip to a nearby lake town and prepared myself for all the bachelorette enthusiasm I could muster.  I didn't really know anyone besides the bride, which could have been extremely awkward, but luckily all us girls got along and were having a lot of fun lounging by the pool, drinking horrible lime-flavored beers.  Later that night, as we loaded onto the party bus, I had no idea what the night would bring (besides the inevitable bachelorette mayhem).  

I was excited to find that there was live music at the local bar.  When the female lead singer invited the bride and I up on stage to belt out a horrible, horrible version of Black Velvet...well, I just couldn't resist.  Coincidentally, our bachelorette party of fifteen-ish females (all in rhinestoned pink tank tops...not by choice), ran into a bachelor party of fifteen-ish males of a totally unrelated wedding party.

I spotted one.  He was pretty cute.  Dance worthy for sure.  

Eyeing his outfit as I walked over, I noticed he was wearing Pink Floyd swim trunks.  Hmm.

Without saying anything, I grabbed his hand and drug him out on the dance floor.  Luckily, he had the same dance style I did: purposefully dance like an idiot so that no one can tell just how truly awful you are.



Post-embarrassing dancing, we got around to talking, and he told me he was from Georgia.  "Georgia? But you don't have an accent?".  He insisted that he was and even showed me his ID to prove it.  I told him, probably offensively, that he would be way cooler if he had an accent.  I also asked him what his position on gun control was.  You know...normal questions, like that.

A few hours later, as the party bus was getting ready to leave, he stormed on at the last minute, scanning all the female faces for mine.  Once he saw me, he said quickly, "Can I give you my phone number?"

And so he did.

And while the pain of breaking it off with Travis soon there-after was difficult...things just weren't working out as I had planned.  Go figure.  I hadn't been able to control...anything.  I had tried.. and I had failed.  One of the toughest things for me to remember in my life is how unfair this entire situation had been to Travis.  He had been faithful, strong, and consistently kind.  But it had been unfair of me to remain with him, all these years, and still be so unsettled with the faith, or lack-thereof, involved.  Though our relationship never reached that deep level that can only be reached when both individuals are committed to the Lord, it was none-the-less painful to part.  And even though we both knew it had been a long time coming, it still didn't ease the hurt.  I wish I had been more considerate, more comforting, more kind.  I wish with all my heart that I could have changed how I handled these circumstances.  

Though, I suppose, it's all the more reason to be thankful for forgiveness that cannot be found in my own heart.  I cannot forgive myself for the situation with Travis.  It's impossible.  Only God can do that.

Sigh.

Let's move on.

Stuart and I continued to get to know each other, over the phone.  He was visiting for the summer and was living with his brother in a town a few hours away from here.  I could try and write this in cohesive sentences, but let me just break it down for you that incredible, unique chain of events involved with our meeting:

1. Stuart's Mom lived in Atlanta and was looking for a roommate, insert a roommates.com ad.  2. A girl from Washington was looking to "get away" to Atlanta and found this ad.  3. Girl moves in with Stuart's Mom.  4. Girl meets Stuart's brother.  5.  Girl comes back to Washington after her summer away.  6. Stuart's brother decides to visit Washington with her.  7. Stuart's brother comes back to get his car in Georgia and drive back to Washington.  8. Stuart's brother asks Stuart to come with him, for a few weeks, before starting school in Mississippi.  9. Stuart drives out to Washington with them. 10. Stuart plans to stay for a few weeks.  11. Stuart meets me via a completely unrelated town, with completely unrelated people that both of us barely knew.

Talk about divine circumstances.



And it was Stuart, who a few months later, introduced me to doctrines that truly changed my views on, well, a lot of things.  

You see, my Stuart is the son of a preacher man.  "The only boy, who could ever reach me...was the son of a preacher man..."  That's just a little song I had for you.  But truly, the Lord is good in that he did know exactly what this stinkin', lazy, rebellious, silly, floundering, girl needed.  She needed her a solid, Christian man.  She needed her the son of a preacher man.

Stuart introduced me to the doctrine of grace, which until then (at least to my knowledge), is not something I had ever really thought about.  Did God save us? Or did we save ourselves? Who did what? How did we come to be 'Christians'? How are our heart changed? How does sanctification begin? Did we seek God? Or is mankind so naturally flawed from the fall that we cannot even seek goodness? And as anyone knows who has studied this doctrine, your view of grace affects almost every other view you hold to.

Stuart also introduced me to theologians like John Calvin and R.C. Sproul.  He introduced me to The Westminster Confession of Faith.  He introduced me Covenantal Theology and helped me through the hard issues I was struggling with, like hell, true forgiveness, and wrath.  Together, we studied all kinds of things.  We read the Bible together over the phone each night.  We prayed together.

Oh, how sweet sanctification can be.

I have goosebumps just typing this - what an exciting time this was!!! I remember telling Stuart that the Calvinist view of grace and a covenantal view of the Bible helped connect all these millions of scattered doctrinal-dots that I had acquired over the years.  This gave shape to my Christian-skin structure. It gave me a backbone.

And, bear with me a moment, as I put in a shameless-plug for my husband: Being with a godly man like Stuart has been a blessing - though, that word doesn't seem to do justice to the magnitude of it all.  Stuart is the kind of man who loves me as much all done up with makeup on as he does at night after I wash it away.  He is the type of man who will ride horses and till the soil, work with his hands, and fight for my honor.  He is also the type of man that can appreciate classical music, a good vanilla latte, and artisan bread.  He appreciates old books, a good cigar, fine scotch, and almost anything hand-crafted out of wood.  He is eclectic.  And he lets me be who I truly am - never expecting me to fit into a pre-packaged image, that I strove so hard to fit for all those years.

He lets me wear my cowboy boots.  And my high heels.  

And he's exactly who God designed for me.  To better us both.


Please forgive all the couple photos, but frankly, I don't have 
any pictures of God to put in this post.  And posts must have photos.  So sorry.

As my pastor reminded us a few days ago at church, sanctification (the process of being made holy), is a painfully slow process.  And while we wish at times that instantly, overnight, we could be made holy and pure....well, that's just not the way it works.  Sanctification is a journey.  I can look back on my past and be weighed down by the ignorance and folly of it all.  Or, I can look back on my past as a road that I have traveled that has brought me to this beautiful place I am able to enjoy today.  And hopefully, in another twenty five years, I will be able to look back at another road traveled that has brought me to even a further point of holiness and grace.  

We grow.  We change.  We learn.  We seek forgiveness.

I hope that this post offers encouragement to those of you out there that feel your life has been a mess. Like your sins have been horrible.  Like your burden is heavy.  No sin, no burden, and no mess is too big for God to forgive.  Ever. 

And He delights to forgive us for our shortcomings (which are many) - that is the Gospel, my friends!  We have not been, nor can we ever be, perfect...and so we cling to the only person who is and was and will be to come.

Jesus Christ.

And Amen.