Clearing the Rubble

My husband and I have owned a beautiful 10 acre plot of land for a little over a year now. We have dreams to build a home on it, plant a huge garden full of veggies and fruit trees, and of course there will be a weeping willow in the front yard somewhere. I have always wanted a willow tree. It's a must. This past year we planted corn on the land. We cleared thorny trees and planted white pines and spruce trees in their place. We tore down barbed wire fencing. We had electricity installed, so now my man can run power tools out there. But the greatest accomplishment by far is the tree swing Eric built for the boys. He precariously stood on top of a fully extended 30 foot ladder that barely grazed the bottom of the elm branch he was wrapping rope around. The giggles and squeals that accompany an excited Heaton boy as he swings back and forth, around and around, is priceless. Our newest venture is going to be constructing a Morton building - a place where Eric can operate his business, and the site where many parts of our future house will be birthed.

In order to build this shed, we needed to break up a concrete slab that remained from a pre-existing structure on the land. It actually looked like mini ancient ruins, overrun with weeds, tall grass, and random trees protruding from the cracked concrete. With a back hoe and a manly growl (what I like to compare to a gorilla beating his chest) my main squeeze busted up that concrete into chunks of hard gray rubble. Then, he immediately cleared the rubble away by moving it next to the road, where he can jack hammer it apart later into rock that he can lay as the floor of the building.

It amazes me how God can hammer in a point sometimes. (Pun intended.) I am currently leading Kelly Minter's Nehemiah Bible study at my church. I come together with an amazing group of tenderhearted women every Wednesday morning to explore the significance of Nehemiah and his calling to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem after the city lay in ruins. The timeliness of this study has me marveling at God and His perfect ways. Let me explain.

This year has been a rough year for me, to say the least. January led with a bang - a personal blow that left me feeling broken and confused. The hardest part of dealing with this situation was the aftermath of thoughts in my head. I knew I wasn't outside of God's will, which is why I didn't understand why I had come under fire. I should expect by now that following God's voice does not mean things will always go smoothly for me. But this confusing situation left me open and vulnerable. I had suffered a major blow - and I was standing in a pile of rubble. Just weeks later, I found a lump in my breast while my husband was oversees leading a mission trip. For over a week I convinced myself that I had breast cancer. Fear consumed me and the pile of rubble grew around me. Though it was just a cyst, the "lump" took a life of its own. The fear and uncertainty that came with it left me feeling afraid for the next attack. Over the next few months, we experienced two deaths in the family, a couple of very difficult circumstances surrounding my husband's work life, and a trip to the dermatologist that determined I had some pre-cancerous cells that still need to be surgically removed. And underlying all of this, my husband and I have been trying for over a year to get pregnant. And it ain't happening.

As the pile of rubble grew around me, so did my anxiety. I never really struggled with anxiety before. I'm usually known for remaining calm in stressful situations. But as these arrows kept firing at me (or so it felt like) I had no defense against them. Fear had grown roots inside of me, in the form of anxiety. My walls - my armor - were laying around me, in a heaping mess of rubble, as evidence of the blows I kept incurring. It got to the point where I was just anticipating the next attack. What was next? Do I have cancer somewhere? Is that why I can't get pregnant? Is someone dear to me going to die? Is our house going to burn down? I had crazy thoughts running through my head, and as I stood in the midst of the ruins around me, remains of a strength I once knew, I told God that I just couldn't live like this anymore.

Enter Nehemiah.

The city of Jerusalem - the home of a people set apart by God - had been pillaged, God's temple burned, the walls of the city broken, the gates demolished by fire, and anything of value destroyed. And God put it in Nehemiah's heart to rebuild the city. At the time Kelly Minter was writing this Bible study, she had recently finished helping with a restoration project that helped families who had lost their homes during the Nashville flood several year ago.

       She says this, "After the Nashville flood I helped rebuild three homes, and during the process I learned a worthy lesson: The difference between building and rebuilding is rubble. Building starts with a clean slate and means new, freshly-scented materials. Rebuilding means maneuvering through piles of brick, metal, and junk before you get to hanging the stunning chandelier you found for half-price, the one God ordained for you to own before the foundation of the world... The problem with rubble is that it hangs around well after the initial destruction. Though the attack of Jerusalem's walls had long since passed, the rubble was still present."

This revelation hit me like a ton of bricks. (Again, pun intended.) I was standing in the pile of rubble that I had allowed to continue growing with every blow I was dealt throughout the year. I had never cleared any of it away. The lingering evidence of these hardships was scattered around me and manifesting itself in the form of anxiety. Of course I was just waiting for the next attack... because somewhere along the way I had thrown my hands up in defeat.

Eric immediately cleared the broken concrete away so that a new structure could be built in its place. Seeing this physical representation, along with God's Word loud and clear in my mind, I understood what I needed to do in order to move forward. I needed to remove the rubble in my life, and rebuild. I began to pray for the Lord to replace my anxiety with His Peace. He did. I turned to my family and trusted friends and asked for their prayers and intercession on my behalf. They did. As I have dug further into this Bible study, I sense God reworking my heart as we - together - rebuild Heather, not to who she formerly was, but as a new creation. 2 Corinthians 5:17 us "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" I find such encouragement knowing that my Great God can take a broken woman, standing in a messy field of ruins, and pluck her right out of it, holding her in the palm of His hand as He gently sculpts her into the woman He longs for her to be.

Since I have cleared away the excess baggage, I have noticed God's still voice ever so clearer. Things that brought me anxiety only a couple of months ago, I now have peace about. He is working and changing my heart towards BIG things that only He could move me to do. I am not the person I was 10 months ago, but a stronger believer with a greater understanding of who He is and what He desires from me. And I've learned that, when an attack comes, if I simply just let go and fall back into His arms, He will catch me... and I won't break.

Fanning the Flame

An open road lay before us. The windows were rolled down, my hair blowing wildly in the wind. The maple trees were just starting to catch fire in the setting sun. Early signs of fall were everywhere. Burning bushes ablaze, stretching pines casting shadows on golden oaks, and brilliant yellow sunflowers adorning the cottage fronts. A quiet Lake Michigan sparkled on our right as we entered the quaint little Door County town that claimed the name Baileys Harbor. Eric and I left our beloved children with their grandparents and planned a weekend escape to northern Wisconsin for some much needed one on one time. As we pulled into the parking lot of the Blacksmith Inn, we were greeted with warm smiles, hot apple cider and delectable Door County cherry oatmeal cookies. We took our mugs of steaming cider down a meandering path through cat tails and tall grass to a pier that overlooked the harbor. As we sat there, sipping our drinks, breathing in the crisp lake air and scanning the color-changing trees along the shoreline, we held hands and exchanged smiles that were full of meaning. We really needed this.

Before we had kids, Eric and I were adventurers, loving a lifestyle full of spontaneity and new experiences. We lived in Colorado for a year and a half, so finding excitement was never a difficult task. Our first morning in Baileys Harbor, we planned out a 13 mile bike ride to the Cana Island Lighthouse. Neither one of us had ever been on a tandem bike before, so we thought that would be a fun way to go.

We lasted fifteen seconds before I hopped off and requested my own bike. The bike ride to the lighthouse was beautiful and scenic. We pedaled past rustic cabins with views of the serene lake. Everything was calm here. Quiet and peaceful. We enjoyed exploring around the lighthouse, learning about the history of those who had claimed it as their home. After the bike ride back to the Inn, we checked out and headed to Ephraim, where we would be staying for the next two nights. The following days were spent indulging in excellent food, wine tastings and tours at several wineries and cider mills throughout the neighboring towns, perusing art galleries, and driving through Peninsula State Park (which included a climb up a 100 and something step tower with an overlook of the entire park - which Eric deemed "unsafe" and he couldn't "believe those beams were holding that structure together". When stuff like that comes out of a carpenter's mouth and you are a mile high in the air, it can cause just a little panic.) We watched the sunset every night, from a different point on the harbor.

 

 

 

During a recent sermon series at our church, my Pastor claimed an important truth of which I needed to be reminded of. My marriage needs to be Christ centered, NOT child centered. In this particular season of my life now - with a 4 and 5 year old in tow - that truth has been difficult to claim for myself. My children demand so much of me throughout the day. By the time my husband walks in the door at the end of the day, I'm spent. My energy has been used up on my boys, and I don't feel that I have much left to invest in him. My husband deserves more than that. Much more.

 

Harvest season is underway. Eric worked all weekend, even on my little one's birthday this past Saturday. I get it - I don't begrudge him at all. I know the work needs to be done. But this time of harvest is a difficult season for our family, because my husband is out the door before the kids are awake and home after they go to bed. I get a healthy dose of what single parenting is all about. And its not easy. But most of all, this time of separation between my husband and I leaves me feeling alone and vulnerable. I miss him. That's why we have made the effort to take a getaway trip every year since we've moved here, about this time, to connect, refocus and remind ourselves of the love we have for each other. It helps us endure this busy season of life.

 

Marriage is hard work. It requires a constant investment of ourselves into a person we love, though don't particular like at times. It requires sacrifice, selflessness, grace, mercy, ready forgiveness and a whole lot of trust. This recent trip to the beautiful Door County reminded me of some things I hadn't paid much attention to in recent months. With God's beauty in the changing colors of the trees, the vibrant sunsets, bountiful vineyards and sparkling waters, the message He spoke to my heart was loud and clear.

 

Marriage isn't just about me and my husband. It is a three way union. When Eric and I stood before our friends and family ten and a half years ago and took vows to love, honor and cherish each other, we did so by inviting God to be a part of that covenant. God tethers me to Eric, and Eric to me. By honoring my husband, I am honoring my God - who blessed me with such an amazing man to provide for me. Remembering that God is not only what tethers us together, but also the foundation on which our marriage is built, demands my commitment to invest in maintaining a Christ-centered marriage.

 

I have always been one that finds myself drawing closer to God when I am in beautiful environments. There is something majestic about standing before a sprawling mountain range, or sinking into the sand on a white beach with waves rolling in. As I took in the beauty around me this past week with my husband, God brought something else to mind. Marriage is a gift from Him. He gave us the gift of marriage as an example of what life is like when we walk with Him. God is always there for us, in sickness and in health. He loves us so much that he sent His only son to die on our behalf. He has the power to heal us, restore us and lift us up from the darkest places. He is always listening to us, even when we aren't speaking. Marriage on earth is a representation of the unity we have with Him when we invite Christ to be a part of our lives. So when I draw near to my husband, God is also inviting me to draw near to Him.

 

I was also gently reminded this past week that it is imperative to fan the flame. We invest our time, energy, emotions, heart, soul, and passion into so many things. Too much busyness and too many hardships have the potential to wedge themselves between my husband and I throughout the year. With the demands of daily living with small children and my husband's crazy work schedule, I honestly don't know how we would have made it this far had we not taken the time to invest in each other... had we not taken time to fan the flame. Flames will eventually burn out if the fire is not tended to. We are living in a culture where divorce is a declaration of a smoking pile of logs. Too many people are letting the flame die. If I am being honest, I believe our flame has come pretty close to being snuffed out - perhaps only a burning ember was left at one point. But I am thankful for a God who never leaves us or forsakes us - who is small enough to hear our silent prayers, and big enough to keep the fire from going out - all on His own.

 

This weekend getaway allowed us the chance to pay attention to the details... enjoying the fine wine, stopping to smell the flowers, and witnessing the radiant sunsets that cast a fiery red glow on everything they touched. I am so thankful for the gift of marriage, and how God's love for us is spoken in and through it.