Dear Eustace {31 Days of Letters}

~ Emily ~ 8 Comments

Dear Eustace,

After reading about you a few years ago, your story has never left my heart and mind.  I have Eustace moments frequently and wanted you to know that you aren’t alone – you are not the only reformed dragon around.

I’d like to think I started out more likable than your pre-Narnia self, but I am fully capable of acting like a greedy, teetotaling, know-it-all too.  You must agree, it’s pretty amazing how quickly dragon qualities appear.  Just one night “sleeping on a dragon’s hoard with greedy, dragonish thoughts in your heart and you’d become a dragon yourself.”

My bad attitudes and pride are monstrous and shocking, often appearing overnight after laying dormant for a spell.  The dragon-that-had-been-Emily rises her dark, lumpy self and destroys all in her path with fire.

I know what its like to not recognize yourself.  You wake up one morning and wonder who those claws belong to and why there’s steam coming from your nose.  The moment of truth is agonizing.  Your reflection isn’t pretty and the realization of what you’ve become is disheartening. Will you be like this forever?

And that gold bracelet of yours – I know what its like to be trapped by such finery. I have gold bracelets up the wazoo, things that I value because the world values them or idols I have created. I wear them greedily unaware that they are slowly cutting off feeling.  My finery becomes a tourniquet stemming the flow of the Spirit.  As I become more distracted by the gold bracelets and what they are doing to my arm, I become less sensitive to that still small voice calling me to freedom.

I know what it’s like to have Reepicheeps in your life who come beside you at your worst.  When you realize the errors of your dragon ways and are in the depths of despair, they comfort you, they stand up for you, they point you towards hope.

Most poignantly, I know what it’s like to have your scales ripped off.  I know the desire to de-dragon yourself.  I’ve tried to shed my own skin in hopes of maintaining control, but as you found out, it grows right back again.  It takes the claws of a lion to dig below the surface. There comes a point where you welcome a lion’s claws, willing to endure pain in order to feel the dead weight of thick, dark, knobbly looking layers fall off.

Eustace, you may have began quite dragony, eating raw meat and all, but in the end you were more the knight.  Thank you for reminding me that there is often pain in purification.

Sincerely,

Emily (fellow dragon)

The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart.  And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt.  The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off.  You know – if you’ve ever picked the scab of a sore place.  It hurts like billy-oh but it is such fun to see it coming away.       {The Voyage of The Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis}

 

You can find all my letters here.

For more information about the 31 Day Challenge, visit The Nester.

The Curtain Incident

~ Emily ~ 2 Comments

My trip to Bed, Bath, and Beyond was already too long.  I had agonized over what curtains to get.  My cart and I had already circumnavigated the store once with a steel blue color before I decided that blue wasn’t neutral enough.  Back to the curtain nook to swap colors, I finally checked out and made my way back home.

I measured and screwed and leveled the hardware for the extension rod, pleased that I hadn’t lost my handy-woman skills.  In the midst of adjusting the rod, a quick snap left my curtains drooping on one side.  I had managed to step on excess fabric, bending the cheap metal at a rakish angle.

Immediately, I am peeved.  Not only was I the one to ruin our new wall hanging, I wasted part of my afternoon working on a project that I didn’t complete.  Woe unto Tim, who was a witness to my huffing and puffing at the decorating turn of events.  I would barely acknowledge his efforts to straighten the rod or purchase a sturdier (ie: clumsy foot proof) one.

Right before this decorating disaster occurred, I had been listening to last Sunday’s message from my church back home, per my mom’s recommendation. Her text read: “Bruce’s sermon was direct and excellent.  Worth a listen if you have a chance.”

Well, I had purposely created a chance to listen while I was putting up curtains.  Little did I know God was crafting a very real sermon illustration in the process. Direct and excellent, indeed…

Pastor Bruce’s sermon was on James 1:19-21.

 My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you.

He had just finished describing the Greek word for anger when I turned it off because Tim came home.  The curtain rod incident ensued as detailed above.  When Tim went back to work, hurried on by my pouting and childish attitude, I rewound the sermon just a bit and pressed play, only to hear Pastor Bruce redefine anger again.  In verse 19, James uses the Greek word ὀργήν, which has multiple layers of meaning.  ὀργήν is an anger defined by inner frustration, deep resentment, and seething, smoldering feelings.

Inner frustration – Check.  Deep resentment – Check.  Smoldering and seething – Check.

I was so frustrated at myself for stepping on that darn curtain and wasting time on a project that didn’t get any closer to completion.  Frustration turned into resentment of the situation and my lameness.  In five minutes, I wasn’t able to contain my smoldering irritation.

This alone would have been bad enough, but I had a physical witness to my childish behavior.  I wasn’t angry at Tim, but my feelings leeched out in my attitude, making me irritable and unavailable when he was only trying to be helpful.  My inner frustration caused emotional distance to wedge between us and gave me a an outlook far from joyful.

“…for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.”

I’m ashamed that it took curtains to show me what truth lies in that statement.

 Update: Sadly, there’s a part two to this story…

Dear J.A.G. {31 Days of Letters}

~ Emily ~ 7 Comments

DISCLAIMER: In an effort to not falsely excite my family, let me just clarify that this letter is not some creative way of announcing my pregnancy.  I am NOT pregnant.  If all goes according to plan (which it usually doesn’t when God’s in control…), there won’t be some cutesy pregnancy reveal for a couple years.

Also, in my future perfect thinking, this little guy would precede a baby sister.  I have an amazing older brother, thus I am fairly prejudice towards that sibling situation.  So, when I talk about our family unit, that’s what i’m picturing, though I will be thrilled with whatever gender order our little Gardners come in.

I do hope Baby J looks something like this…

Baby Tim

My dear little J,

I am both terrified and thrilled beyond imagination at the thought of you.  I don’t know why God intrusts such beautiful, fragile beings to such broken people.  Since God gives us the gift of life, He must equip us with the tools to protect it, therefore, I trust He has given provided us all that we need to love and care for your sweet self.

I can’t wait to stroke your fuzzy little head, nuzzle your soft neck, and just enjoy all of your baby-ness.  I’m amazed that two people could create a person so marvelous and intricate.  Know that I am in awe of your mere presence in our lives and pray for your already.

My prayers for you are often pleas for shelter from hurt, protection from evil, defense against wrong-doing.  I realize those are enabling prayers.  I most certainly want to shield you from harm, but I realize that is impossible and what I really want is for you to know where to turn when bad things happen.  I want you to intimately know your Shelter from the storm, your Protector, your Defender.   My precious J, you have a Father who loves you even more than is humanly possible.  As you grow, cling to Him.

It will be a great joy to see you grow.  If you’re anything like your dad, you’ll enjoy Legos and preaching to stuffed animals.  You’ll probably enjoy making music too, and with any luck, you’ll inherit your dad’s singing ability not mine.  We’d love you even if you did get my (un)tunefulness, though.

There’s a sappy, but true, quote that says “Don’t marry a man unless you would be proud to have a son exactly like him.”  You know what, J?  You can’t be exactly like your dad – that would be a bit weird – but you have an amazing model of a Godly man in your life.  Not everyone has that gift.  Take note of his caring spirit and soft heart.  He is full of integrity and quiet strength.

Both your dad and Uncle Tim are great examples of what manliness is all about.  Take note of their sensitivity.  Little J, it’s okay to cry, to empathize and have compassion.  Take note of how they treat women.  Little J, it’s important to respect, esteem, and protect women.  Take note of their relationship with family.  Little J, be kind to your sister.  She will be one of your biggest fans and greatest allies.

Though these are scattered thoughts to you, my beautiful boy, know that my feelings toward you will never be scattered.  My love is unconditional.  It pains me to know that I will fail.  I will not be the perfect mom.  But you have an Abba that IS perfect and won’t ever fail.  I can rest well knowing that you were made in His image and held in His hands.

With a full heart of love and anticipation,

Mom

You can find all my letters here.

For more information about the 31 Day Challenge, visit The Nester.

Dear Cold Weather {31 Days of Letters}

~ Emily ~ 3 Comments

Dear Cold Weather,

Hello old friend!  I haven’t seen you since Kansas City.  I know you passed through town a few times when I was in California, but you never stayed long enough for a cup of tea.

To be honest, you kind of shocked me with your arrival.  I wasn’t expecting you so early, or maybe I was just hoping you’d be a little late.  Not that I don’t enjoy your company – I do!  I love that you usher in the Fall season.  You make the leaves turn a spectrum of beautiful auburns, rusts, and golds.   I feel like blue skies are more clear and crisp when you’re around.

However, you snuck up on me and I was mentally unprepared.  You forced me to box up my sandals, shorts, and summery dresses prematurely.  I was a little bit peeved.  In an act of rebellion, I kept out one pair of shorts and my Rainbow sandals, though I can’t bear to wear them while you are still here.  So, I have to apologize for being passive aggressive.

It’s not you.  It’s me.

In time, I think we will get along swimmingly.  I like the idea of combatting your brisk temperatures with blankets, hot cocoa, and wood-burning fires.  I can embrace scarves and boots with enthusiasm.  Eventually, my vanity will even recover from the perpetually red nose you subject me to.  On the bright side, it helps me channel my inner Rudolph, and you know how much I love Christmas.

With your arrival, I’ve been wondering…  Is it normal for you to make people want to change species?  Ever since you’ve arrived I’ve had the strongest urge to hibernate.  Your chill compels me to stay in bed longer, move slower, and eat more.  If I were the suspicious kind, I’d say you spiked the air with some sort of bear potion.

Bears, I’d like to extend my warm welcome to Northern Idaho.  I do hope you’ll stay awhile – maybe four months?

Sincerely,

Emily

You can find all my letters here.

For more information about the 31 Day Challenge, visit The Nester.

Dear Sarah Rose {31 Days of Letters}

~ Emily ~ 4 Comments

Dearest Sarah,

Your letters always come at the right time.  You words are full of encouragement, commiseration, affirmation, and wisdom.  I have so appreciated your correspondence and regret that I have not been as good a pen pal.

My best intentions before we moved were to tell you how much your friendship means to me – via note, of course, because I am much better at expressing those things via written words (to a fault).  I’ve been avoiding the task  for the past month for fear of not being able to properly say all that I want to say.  But, it’s high time I at least made an attempt!

When I first met you at the Urane’s, I had no idea you would become such an important person in my life.  I sat across the living room from a girl with a contagious laugh, great teeth (yeah, I notice weird things), and pretty, dark curls.  We watched The Bachelor among mutual friends and parted ways with little thought of meeting again.  Mere months later, we were sleeping in the same bed, overseeing a bunch of crazy 9th grade girls during Disciple Now.  God works in mysterious ways…

After I started volunteering with youth group, we got to know each other in a much more sane environment – no Party In The USA karaoke on two hours of sleep…  I wish I could say that our friendship was born with a pure heart and clean motives, but I wasted a lot of those early months being jealous.  I was so threatened by your obvious (and God given) talents/abilities/passions.  You are a natural leader, gifted in working with youth, and a lovely person on the outside (inside too!! I just wasn’t focused on that at the time…).

I wasn’t mature enough to look beyond my envy and see the jewell of a friend that God was providing.  Lucky for me, God eventually got through to me and, for the most part, I stopped being such a turd.

I regret the time wasted in petty dislike but am blessed by what our friendship has become.  I’m not sure I have ever encountered someone who was so similar to me and, yet, so different.  Those differences have challenged my perspective on community, women in ministry, relationships and stretched my understanding of the God we both serve.

Sarah, I’ve always admired your faith in God’s provision during uncertain circumstances.  In situations where I would have freaked out and concocted my own solutions, you trusted God with the future – the future of your finances, your education, your housing, and your job.

You are a generous friend, a loyal friend, a thoughtful and encouraging friend.  You are a gorgeous woman, a strong woman, a smart and talented woman.  You are an Ideal.

This past season deserves another letter entirely, but let me say this: I have seen more beauty in you through this whole mess than during any other part of our friendship.  I may be dating myself (is 25 too young to be doing that?), but I was reminded of a Crystal Lewis song…  Since I can’t grace you with my tunefulness at this time, here are the lyrics:

I once was lost but God has found me.  Though I was bound I’ve been set free.  I’ve been made righteous in His sight, a display of His splendor all can see.
He gives beauty for ashes, strength for fear.  Gladness for mourning, peace for despair.

Know that there is plenty more I could say about how wonderful you are.  I miss having coffee with you.  I miss talking about books and laughing over our shared perfectionist tendencies.  I miss doing life with you on a day to day basis.

Thank you for your friendship during old seasons and new.  I love you sister-friend!

So much love,

Em

You can find all my letters here.

For more information about the 31 Day Challenge, visit The Nester.