Yesterday I threw another one of my Jennifer-sized fits. No, I didn’t hurl things. No, I didn’t raise my voice. I threw a fit in my way–with lots of tears and a slew of complaints. And as usual, my husband wrapped me in his arms, smooshed my face to his chest so that my nasal passages flattened against my cheek, sufficiently blocking all air, and poured words of encouragement into my heart.

It didn’t work. I was still mad, and frustrated. I wanted him to hear me–to understand.

And he did. I could tell by the way he got up, cleaned the kitchen, folded the laundry and did the ironing that he understood how I felt. (Sorry, ladies, he’s taken.) But unlike me, his eyes weren’t focused on the mountain ahead of me, or the insecurities inside me.

“I have faith in you. I know you can do this.”

“Yeah, well you think I can do anything,” I snarled back. (Actually, I think it was more of a snarl, grunt, sniffle.)

“Because you can.”

Well let me tell you, that made me angrier! So I stormed off to take our daughter jean shopping–again–leaving my to-do list on the counter. (You already know what I came home to–a clean house and a calm, loving husband.)

Ah, those men of ours. What was God thinking when He paired Steve and I together? I don’t think He was looking at our honeymoon or our white picket fence dreams. I think His plans were a bit more eternal than that, and a bit more balanced. He was looking at our rough edges, the piles of sandpaper He’d already ordered, and the beautiful carving He was working to create. And unlike me, God isn’t focused on my momentary comfort or pleasure. He’s got a big-picture, bride of Christ view.

Ladies, do you remember all the things you did to get ready for your wedding? The hours you spent pouring over hairstyles, tasting cakes, talking with catering companies. But the highlight? Trying on your wedding dress. You knew what you wanted. You’d envisioned that gown for years, decades. Then one day you found it–the perfect gown, the one that would turn your prince’s head and set a glitter in his eye. The only problem was it was half a size to small. Oh, you could have bought the bigger one, the one that draped a  little over your shoulders and sagged a bit at your waist. Or maybe you could have chosen a different one entirely, but no, this was your dress. And you were going to do whatever it took to make it fit. Even if that meant eating alfalfa sprouts for weeks on end. And it wasn’t easy. At times, it was even downright painful. (If you’ve ever tried a boot camp class, you know exactly what I’m talking about!)

But then the day came, and as you walked toward your groom, his eyes centered on you, your struggles to get to that point were completely forgotten. The diets and endless hours at the gym were nothing more than a distant memory. And that dress that at times seemed impossible to fit (like when you downed a gallon of ice-cream in a moment of stress) fit perfectly. As if it was tailored just for you.

Well ladies, we’ve got another wedding coming–a royal feast awaiting. And if you belong to Christ, you’ve already got your gown. (Matthew 22:1-14) It’s radiantly white, washed in the blood of the lamb. Only it doesn’t quite fit yet. There are still a few lumps God needs to purge away, but don’t worry, He’s got that covered, too. He’s already looking at the royal feast, and you decked in your gown.  Your “diet” might be painful now as He removes those nasty things that distort your godly figure–those things like fear, and pride, and worldly distractions, but in the end, it will be glorious. And all your struggles now? They’ll be long forgotten, for all of eternity.

I loved this message sent to me from a friend today:

“May God remember you like Noah …
Favour you like Joseph …
Qualify you like Moses …
Shepherd you like David …
Empower you like Elijah …
Transform you like Mary Magdalene …
And love you like Himself …
El-Shaddai … JESUS LOVES YOU!”