love

The Marriage Connoisseur, Chapter 3

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

“Not what we have, but what we enjoy, constitutes our abundance.” – Epicurus

Chapter 3–Unforced Rhythms of Grace

Whose Plan is This, Anyway?

            Make a plan!  Set a goal!  Get up at 5:00!  Better still, at 4:00!  I made my plan and it was a good one.  And then our guest showed up three hours early.  And there was a big thunderstorm which drove my loved ones indoors.  Next my daughter called asking me to call the sheriff’s office about cows on the highway.

            All these things went away, and my son decided to come inside and dry off over coffee with me, this after my husband cooked a late breakfast and clearly wanted and indeed needed my help with a crossword and for me to join him at breakfast.

            Flexibility is a great attribute, as opposed to being married to a plan, which will often end in throwing up our hands and forgetting the whole thing.  Whether we’re trying to write a book or read one, we can take what I call a “sneaky view” of interruptions.

            By that I mean envisioning ourselves as navigating all these things, still arriving at our destination, but richer for the delays.  This requires a bit of getting alone and thinking things out.  “I won’t tell anyone, no one will know that things aren’t going to plan,” I whisper to myself.  “I’m not the least bit put off by this, because I’m way too cool to be derailed by this.  I’ll just take another route.”  Just as when you forsake the interstates for the backroads, there are creativity and joy boosters all along the way. 

            So, rather than being upset, I am looking at having coffee with my son, and being wanted by my husband as good things.  Very good things.  How can I incorporate the feeling of this unexpected blessing (see what I called it) into my writing?  What can I learn?  Shall I take a walk now, or go back to writing?

            There are, of course, those times when I have to build stronger than usual structures for my plan.  For instance, on this particular morning I could have shut myself up in my room with an announcement to beloveds:  Please do not disturb unless the house is on fire, and even then, do so at your own risk.  I could have told them I’m way behind where I hoped to be by this time, and I’m off to a coffee shop where no one knows my name, and by the way, don’t call me even if the house is on fire.

            I can turn off my phone, ignore the house phone and forget about e-mails and excellent writing tutorials.  Even if I only sit on the balcony with a cup of tea (wasn’t that in my plan?  If not, it should have been) and read Georgette Heyer (it’s writing training) or do nothing at all (wasn’t that in my plan?  If not, it should have been) it’s a step in my life dance, made more rhythmic and interesting via being unplanned.

            However . . . if these feelings of frustration and desperation become commonplace, and there’s no use trying to put any spin on it besides pure aggravation and defeat, I know it’s time to take a thing or two off the table.  Literally, in my case.  It’s time to back off of some of the cooking.  It’s time to do what makes me more creative, simple things such as making the bed and taking a walk–and to stop trying to be Doer of All Things.  It’s time for more time with the Author and Finisher of my Faith, the Giver of Grace–unforced rhythms of grace. 

            Because for me, it really is all about family.  And they (especially my beau) only need me to be happy—in a  state of grace.  Amen. 

What is this Burden?

            Real men don’t whine–John qualifies.  But when the burdens get heavy, unless I’m too wrapped up in my own self, I can sense things are amiss.  Then, contrary to popular opinion, it’s not time for advice, thinly veiled criticism, or even getting mad on his behalf at whoever or whatever is causing him grief. 

            It’s time, rather, to just be a bit closer and softer, a little nicer and kinder, and stay tuned.             

Women Often Lament . . .

            Women often lament about things that just aren’t so.  Homemakers, for instance, in thinking that their husbands have all the fun “going off” to work while they’re “stuck at home,” are buying lies heaped upon lies.  There is very little fun about making a living as done by most men.  Most men quietly answer to endless aggravations and often ulcer-producing work situations.  There are unreasonable and demanding bosses, office politics, senseless rules and regulations, intolerable co-workers, thankless and creativity-killing tasks, mind-numbing commutes, and the sense that they’re little different than hampsters on a wheel, with no end in sight.

            On what mountain of insanity did women decide it would be better to have what men have?  Having worked as men work—as a carpenter’s helper growing up and later for John in a similar capacity, I can tell you women’s work is not harder.  It’s just different, and thank God for that!

            Am I being “old fashioned” and setting women back a century?  No.  But I would like to set us back about 60 years, at least in some areas.  How lovely to have the time of day, presence of mind, order, freedom from endless distractions, and the energy for hospitality and family trips as did many of the women of my mom’s generation.        As I am not a fan of wishful thinking, I submit that we can have much of that again, by beginning to be honest about what’s in our hearts, and what we truly want (hint:  it’s not to be what we aren’t, which is men).

Another Lament

            Women often lament that their husbands don’t open up, won’t talk about things.  Some of that is because, as I said, real men don’t whine; some is because they just need to work through some things; some because they didn’t have such a good outcome the last time they opened up.

            It’s a challenge that must be met not to treat husbands as kids.  It doesn’t matter if they sometimes act quite similar.  They aren’t.  Another challenge is to remember who they are—fearfully and wonderfully made children of the Most High, and deserving of honor, consideration and respect, whether they act like it or not.

            We reap what we sow.

Suggested Reading:  Matthew 11:28-30, The Message.

Key to Victory:  Read aloud Luke 21:19 and pray it over yourself as a declaration.

Music:  Psalms sung by you.  I dare you—try it, I mean infused with your very own self, your very own love.

Thoughts and Prayers:

The Marriage Connoisseur–Chapter 2

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

(Following is Chapter 2 of my new book–available in 24 hours–The Marriage Connoisseur)

“As you grow in maturity and wellbeing, your marriage becomes better, too. You contribute more, your spouse feels encouraged to contribute more, and your marriage becomes stronger.” – Dr. Carol Peters-Tanksley

Chapter 2–Better and Better

At What? 

            At Love and Marriage.  At pure unadulterated enjoyment of, and pleasure in, that most marvelous of all earthly gifts–true and romantic love between a woman and a man.

            There are goals upon goals, ambitions, drives and desires to which we give superhuman effort and focus, and for returns which don’t begin to compare with the potential returns when such single-minded determination is made in pursuit of a happy marriage.

            Rather than asking how we can best achieve our personal goals, we are much better served when asking how we can nurture, protect and develop the miracle of True Love.  How can we better ourselves in view of bettering our marriage?

            If we take all the good teachings on “success” and apply them to marriage, we find ourselves in a state of grace.  When the Giver of Every Good and Perfect Gift becomes the object of our admiration, devotion, attention, and worship, we are in that state of grace that guarantees our good outcome.  We are in that place where, as Emile Coue famously said, “Every day, in every way, we are getting better and better.” 

“That hasn’t been my experience.”

            In the movie Red (Two), when Sarah tells Frank Moses (Bruce Willis) that people are basically decent, he responds, “That hasn’t always been my experience.” 

            No one’s experience negates truth.  If God promises one thing and we experience another, we are not to fall into the common trap of thinking God’s a liar and saying in effect that our experience is Truth—that we are the All-Knowing One.

Perhaps a Change of Perspective?

            I ask you, Dear Reader, to consider considering that God may know what He’s talking about, He may have an excellent plan of beauty and victory for you, and that you may have to change a bit of your thinking.  You may need to change from a cautious and risk-averse mindset of Me and My Experience to one of Him and His Beneficence, unto a life of multiplicative blessing.  “Marriage,” as Dr. Carol Peters-Tanksley explains, “is not additive; two halves don’t make a whole. Marriage is multiplicative. Two half people create a marriage that’s less than either of them individually. But two whole people working together can create more beauty than there ever was before.”

Yeah, but . . .

            “Yeah, but” is one of those warning phrases—warning us that it’s time to take some thoughts captive, and tell them aloud what’s what and who’s who.  “Listen here, Bev,” I say to myself, with something like this, “You are not a victim, you are not an excuse maker, you are not a doubter, or an ignorant and rebellious child.  God knows what’s what and you get yourself  in line.”

            In line for what?  Victory! 

            Another warning phrase is “You should.”  I used to think “should” was only OK when I was talking to the gal in the mirror, but I’ve since begun eliminating that word from my vocabulary, unless someone asks my opinion, and even then I try to find a better, a more scriptural way, to speak. 

            I honestly believe that, in marriage, the minute your lips speak the words “you should”, judgment is waiting, pride is working, harm is coming to the heart of your beloved.  What isn’t coming is a change in behavior.  Almost never.

            This is even true when I’m talking to myself.  There’s something about being told what I “should” do that gets me asking, “Why should I?’  However, if I say, “Bev, you know what to do, now do it,” I find myself responding, “I will, I am going to.  I’m beginning this very minute.”

May I Suggest?

            May I suggest you be on the lookout for phrases you use that are less than life-giving, less than inspiring and motivating, less than Love?  It might be as seemingly innocuous as, “It is what it is.” 

            What’s wrong with that?  Maybe nothing, but every time I hear it, I hear defeat and acceptance of something that needs changing.  Even if the issue seems completely out of our spheres, we can pray.

            You may say things like, “My husband is no good around the house,” or, “My daughter is clumsy;” or one of my least favorites, “Boys will be boys!”  You’re practically guaranteeing your husband won’t even try, your daughter will not outgrow her clumsiness, and that your son will think childish and boorish behavior is cute. 

            Again, keep a watch over your tongue and stay in prayer for the Holy Spirit’s help in this.  So, so, so important that you never give up on getting better and better.

Suggested Reading:  Personality Isn’t Permanent by Dr. Benjamin Hardy; Dear Enemy by Jean Webster

Key to Victory:  Deliberately fill your heart with good and joyful things, such as books like Dear Enemy and its prequel, Daddy Longlegs.

Music:  Beautiful Wedding:  Prelude

Thoughts and Prayers:

Have You Bought the Lie?

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

The home truth is beautiful, so unutterably beautiful.

A young man once told my husband that his wife wasn’t using her education, helping with the finances (they had kids).  John said, “Nothing you will ever do is as important as what she’s doing at home with those kids.”

A respected woman with many, many YouTube viewers recently talked about how we all have a ministry, and could be reaching the whole world with a YouTube channel.  She said to stop with the excuses—not enough time, not tech savvy, later when the kids are grown . . . . . There was more—about callings and purposes, about building things . . .

And then she said an indicator that you might need to be building a YouTube ministry is if it’s already what you do—the one who prays for people, the one people call for encouragement—that sort of thing.

There’s a lot in that, and it’s worth a bit of a ponder, a chewing on, before swallowing.  First, if you have a family, you have a ministry, and it can change the world.  Second, the answer about waiting until the kids are grown is not an excuse—it’s a priority and a conviction about what’s right and real.  And third–what if you spend all that building-and-blessing-your-own-beloveds time (the ones gifted specifically to you by God), building a YouTube channel? Is that wisdom? Better find out from the One who knows.

It’s not “I can do all things through christ jesus.” It’s, “I can do all things through CHRIST JESUS!” Otherwise, we’re looking in vain for that purpose-driven life, trying to feel like our lives matter, that we matter, and trying to find that approval, that “Job well done!” from a world who doesn’t really know us or care.  Silly, silly.

Daughter Rebekah and I recently watched Love’s Portrait (beautiful, beautiful movie set in Ireland) and while it was a lovely romance, the subplot blessed me as well.  There was a little sister who was told she needed to go make a life for herself.  She said, “I already have.”  Her life was rich and full and she was wise enough to know it, and to ignore all the “wise” ones giving that worth-what-she-paid-for-it advice.

I’m thinking that before we have any advice worth sharing we need to be doing the first and foremost of all ministries and callings, the most world-impacting of all building—we need to build our homes.  Let’s wait a bit on Proverbs 31 vineyard planting and sash sewing and making bunches of money.  Let’s go back to Proverbs 14—The wise woman builds her house–house meaning, among other things worthy, her family.

Building people, making history, ensuring tomorrow—that’s what homemaking is, even if you’re the last woman standing in this lonely arena (you’re not—that’s a lie from Hell) you are among the good and great company of real and true women throughout the ages who knew what was what, as do you.

But you don’t need anyone’s company or approval. You will pray and grow and know that your husband’s heart safely trusts you, and you will be blessed by your children, and you will know that you know your life matters.  And one fine day you will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Yes, there’s a whole lot of servant-ing going on in this most excellent of lives, but then Jesus was a servant, wasn’t he? 

Sparkle is my Color

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment
Photo by Alexandr Podvalny on Pexels.com

The Road Less Taken is Colorful, or, How about Being a Human Being?

I’m promised great and marvelous outcomes if only I join the 10-item capsule wardrobe crowd, the minimalists, the organized and responsible ones; if I am oblivious to what I like and adore, in favor of what everyone else is liking and adoring.  My heart isn’t meant to sing, it’s meant to follow the leader in gray.  In grey (for our purposes today gray is a color, grey a state of heart and mind).

I once had a grey heart–charcoal, dead.  I saw it, lying on a weed-infested sidewalk crack.  That was the result of following, being untrue to my true self, untrue to God.  It was, and is, SIN.  Sin is, after all, defined as missing the mark, or forfeiting God’s best—color, light,  LIFE. Satisfaction.  Peace.  Trusting myself as I first trust my Maker.  

Much cleverer than heeding and trusting people who so assiduously look, talk, act and walk like everyone else.  Human, but AI.  Artificial “intelligence” is artificial, yes, but intelligent—I think not.  We are told that pink is in, blue (or is it brown?) is the new black, or whatever.  Who has time to worry about it?  Worry is unintelligent.  It’s the devil’s programming.

But I am encouraged even as I impatiently await the light to penetrate those who are, to quote the Eagles, “programmed to receive.”  Hotel California goes on to say, “You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”  But people are leaving, exploring the forbidden territories of authentic living, starting with the clothes on their backs.  Floaty florals and vintage high-waisted jeans call to remembrance that pair of pastel plaid, cuffed bell-bottoms I had in high school.  The other girls didn’t look at me with jealousy, they looked with hopeful sighs, and gleams in their eyes.  They, too, were going to dress like that. With a twist—their very own spins.

So, “you can never leave” is a lie from Hell.  You can begin checking out of this Culture of Grey right now.  Go change into something that makes you feel like you want to feel today.  If that happens to be the gray of sophisticated style, thoughtful quietude and understated elegance, that’s great.  Just beware that it’s not the grey of a drizzly, damp, depressed state of mind—grey begets grey. 

I admit there are times for such as this, but cozy yourself against the elements.  Yes, go weeping and walking in the rain, but choose a red umbrella, or a bright scarf, and a good hanky. Sit alone in the darkness, but light one candle, or turn on a small lamp and begin to read a beautiful book, such as Little Women. The unutterable sadness of the death in Little Women is cocooned and made bearable by Jo’s sparkling authenticity and color-filled antics, delivering you, Dear Reader, away from the tortuous landscape of apocalypse-grey living.

And now back to the Levis and such: add lipstick, lift your head, and make like the child scripture exhorts you to become.  This means that instead of getting rid of most of your clothes, you gleefully explore the possibilities:  give something away to someone who will look great in it, put a thing or two in the trash because it’s not worth sharing, iron what needs ironing, and maybe organize by color—this is good, cheap fun.  Say, “So there!” as you ignore the mandate to “get rid of anything you haven’t worn in the past year.”

Now it’s time to shop your closet.  And if you can’t imagine going out with the wacky outfit you come up with (or if you’re like me, the Levis and white man’s shirt with big gold hoops), then stay home with your new and happier, more human self. 

If you’re feeling brave by now, Old Time Rock and Roll by Bob Seger will suit your dancing feet, or maybe begin more gently with Thank You, Jesus by Charity Gayle and some crooning with Vince Gill, or praise God with and for CeCe Winans.  What’s your almost forgotten old favorite, or that song your friend likes?  Mine would include some in-your-face-to-Grey with Dwight Yokum, or Midnight Train to Georgia.  A fine finish would be Freedom by Michael W. Smith and Soldier by Phil Driscoll.

It is, after all, a fight to be free from mindless following, so that you are of real use and benefit to those who don’t yet know how to.  It’s a call and a challenge worth meeting—being human.  A Human Being.

Human is better.  Human responds to color and light, to movement, rhythm and grace, and especially to the uniquely beautiful, enchantingly lovely, and quite colorful.  You.

The Only Narcissist You Need to Worry About

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

First, can we agree that time spend on YouTube learning how at least half the people we know are raging narcissists is, well, not time well spent? And what is the point, anyway? I’ll tell you what Maryl di Milo said in a YouTube video about a book she was reviewing, which advocates, among other things, getting away from less than pleasant (narcissistic) people: “It’s about self-preservation.”

I haven’t read this book, and it may be extremely helpful, but if it’s another book that points me to me, I don’t need it. I can do self-preservation instead of trusting the only One who can preserve me, easy peasy–no help needed.

And anyway, is that what we’re here for–self-preservation? I think not. Let’s learn that any self-focused thing (oops, isn’t that narcissism?) may not be our friend. Let’s learn that so often the people so determined to label people as narcissists may have a few less-than-selfless traits themselves.

Shall I look into the mirror? Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the most narcissistic of all?

Oh, that’s my husband, my daughter-in-law, my neighbor. Why can’t we just know that as long as we’re here we’ll likely be fighting self-worship in some form, and simply mind our own narcissistic business.

And here’s a thought: Let’s find something a little more constructive (see the New Testament) to do about troublesome people than just toss them out of our lives.

The Goal of Life–and it’s not Man-Bashing!

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

See the last post first, this is Part II.

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

Life is Good. Worry is bad.

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

I live with kind and undemanding folks, which sounds like a very good thing, right? But it can cause me to get a bit selfish and too into my own thing, which never seems to satisfy my soul. So, in my recent adventures in doing less and going my own way more, I am reminded of what I should KNOW by by: There is satisfaction in sharing, satisfaction in sacrifice.

And I am reminded of my mantra: A smart girl like you oughtta be able to figure this out. Of what am I speaking? I am speaking of the lack of shared meals happening of late at House of Parker.

We all have differing schedules, dietary preferences, and priorities–one person gets up at 3:30 a.m and is home any time between noon and 5:00; another gets off work at 11:00 p.m. The easy thing is to just say, “Who cares?”

The voice plaguing me says they don’t know or appreciate what it takes to put healthy meals on the table; it takes too much time; we’re in a new season and it doesn’t matter that much anyway. “Reason” continues: If I cook what they want it’s too hard to stay low-carb; let them cook their own–they know how.

And yes, they can and often do “cook their own” with the attendant continually messy kitchen, use of ingredients meant for other things, formation of unhealthy habits, and a general state of culinary chaos.

But that isn’t “the thing” really. The thing is that we no longer have “Table Share”. When I read a beautiful quote, or hear an amazing tale which simply must be shared for the joy and edification of all parties, for the common bond created via the ensuing good conversation, the best opportunity for doing so–while enjoying a meal–is unavailable.

What then shall a smart girl do? Give up? Sigh? Call someone and gripe (true friends share joys, not gripes)? No, she changes things here and there. She calls a family meeting first of all, enticing everyone with milk and no-bakes (chocolate oatmeal cookies cooked stovetop with plenty of butter, vanilla, salt, maybe some peanut butter and almond flavoring, and a bit more salt than called for).

In this meeting it is discerned that everyone is fine with her having more time to “do whatever” she wants, and that she should just “make herself happy”. And so . . . the hope that they will tell her what to do, how to solve this issue about which she is apparently the only one who cares, fades into more of the voices: It doesn’t matter; no one cares; you’re the only one bothered by this.

I own it. I am bothered by this, and that’s reason enough to do something about it, and I will find a solution.

So here it is: Breakfast together will be in the form of a weekend brunch; we’ll have dinner together (sort of–when it’s possible) and I will have beautiful times alone, as well as lovely times with only one of my beloveds at a time per their schedules, and on those marvelous times we’re all available, it will be all the more beautiful and lovely for the rarity.

And I will relax, and live in the unforced rhythms of grace given by my Creator. Because it always comes down to this: As smart as I am, He is smarter. He cares about what I care about, and He cares about me.

So rather than losing my creative juices via fretting, I will stop. Rest. And make my darlings happy by making myself happy. I will live each and every day without a plan or a goal, except to receive what God has for me–peace and love and joy–and pass it on. If that happens to be over a meal, so much the better.

Life is good. Worry is bad.

What Would Smith Wigglesworth or a mom do?

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

The March 21 offering in Devotional by Smith Wigglesworth is the tale of a miracle healing, wherein before Smith came on the scene God prepared a woman’s heart to receive. This was a handy thing for me to be reading, as my son came to ask for healing prayer just after I finished. My heart was prepared to pray, and I wanted his heart prepared as well.

“First,” I answered, “Sit down and do me the honor of letting me read this to you.” Benjamin sat and I read Smith’s marvelous story, beginning with Matthew 8:17: He Himself took our infirmities and bore our sicknesses.

After finishing the devotion, I took Benjamin’s right hand and wrist (where the pain was) and began praying, during which action I was impressed to remind my son that his name means “Son of the Right Hand.” There was much more, and he received more than healing. He received encouragement.

I didn’t wake up encouraged today, and I was in no mood to encourage anyone else. But then there came that miracle thing called Quiet Time, and I was encouraged by the words of Jesus in the Gospel of John; then by Paul in I Corinthians with Love words, and David speaking straight to my heart in Psalms.

In Oswald Chambers’ My Utmost for His Highest I was struck by the statement, “I have been identified with Him in His death.” Pondering this, I read from Smith Wigglesworth, focusing on the fifth verse of Isaiah 53: But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities, the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed.

I choose to identify myself with The Healer.

The final thought in this devotion is, “One bit of unbelief against the Word is poison.”

He IS the Healer. Amen.

Love is Success, Success is Love

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

I appreciate Grant Cardone because so much of what he wrote in The 10X Rule applies to success in the most important thing of all: family. “Pretend,” he writes, “you’re being recorded as a model by which your children and grandchildren will learn how to succeed in life.”

If you’ve read this blog for very long, you know I define success a little differently than most people–something like, “Success is being free from the approval of others, from the tyranny of selfishness. Success is being a homemaker.” It can also be being a butcher, baker, or candlestick maker, as long as in that role we are also the one who doesn’t pass by on the other side when we see the opportunity to give, the opportunity to sacrifice.

(I must pause here to say you don’t impress God when all your giving is done outside your family, and all you have left for them is impatience and unkindness. And judgment.)

Back to sacrifice–WE ARE MADE FOR IT! What story is better than that of the Good Samaritan who “took pity” on the half dead man? I’ll tell you one that is as good, but first a word about the Good Samaritan. He was on his way to somewhere and it was not in his plan, on his calendar, or convenient for him to stop. He was likely a man of affairs and means, as evidenced by his leaving the man at the inn, promising to be back, and promising to pay any and all costs. The innkeeper trusted him and I think that was because people who take the time to help others at great inconvenience to themselves–people who sacrifice–are trusted.

Now for another good story: Once upon a time there were scores and scores of women who “took pity” on their husbands and children, and cared for them, without access to success gurus, social media, nannies, new SUVs or throw-away diapers. They had to lean on the Helper, the One Who (if we will let Him) sticks closer than a brother.

In making such sacrifices they raised children also willing to sacrifice. They were rich inside.

We are created in the image of the God of Sacrifice, and apart from a life of sacrifice, we cannot ever be whole.

This is not a call to return to the “good old days” of twelve diapers and no washing machine, or of no central heating and running water, or having nowhere to go if married to a brute. In America, because of the sacrifices of those who came before us, we live in such a lovely world as regarding physical conveniences and social supports, but not one so lovely when it comes to sacrifice.

It’s time to not only be willing to sacrifice and give, but to be on the lookout for opportunities for doing so. And if you have the immeasurable privilege of having people living in your own house for whom you can sacrfice, it’s time to give thanks, not complaints. Just remember this when the doubts and self-pity come in like a flood: your reward is guaranteed, even if not immediately seen.

If you don’t believe me, read the New Testament. If you don’t believe that, you’re doomed–to the misery of a life without sacrifice.