love

You Love Me Anyway

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(The following post is by Faith, Family, and the Farm)

One of my favorite songs right now is “You Love Me Anyway” by a Christian Band called The Sidewalk Prophets.  Read some of the words to this song.  They are beautiful.

“I am the thorn in your crown
But You love me anyway
I am the sweat from Your brow
But You love me anyway
I am the nail in Your wrist
But You love me anyway
I am Judas’ kiss
But You love me anyway
See now I am the man who yelled out from the crowd
For Your blood to be spilled on this earth shaking ground
Yes then I turned away with a smile on my face
With this sin in my heart, tried to bury Your grace
And then alone in the night I still call out for You
So ashamed of my life, my life, my lifeBut You love me anyway
Oh God, how You love me
Yes, You love me anyway
It’s like nothing in life
That I’ve ever known
Yes, You love me anyway
Oh Lord, how You love me.”Isn’t that just amazing?  Almost every day these words run over and over in my mind now that I know this song:  “I am the nail in your wrist, but you love me anyway.  I am Judas’ kiss, but you love me anyway.”  I don’t know why it is, but I can read scripture and hear bible studies and stories over and over, but when someone puts words to music, they stick with me and touch me.  Several times throughout the day, these words remind me that no matter what I could ever possibly do, Jesus will love me anyway.

Oh, how I wish I could make everyone understand and embrace that.  How do you tell these struggling teens whose parents tell them how bad they are, who have other kids tell them how worthless or pathetic they are, who are told repeatedly by a teacher that they are dumb, that there is someone who will love them no matter what, without conditions, without strings, without if’s, and’s or but’s?  I could play them this song 100 times and I know that unless they’re at a certain point in their lives, they will not get how huge it is.  What stories from the bible can I teach them to help them trust and believe this?  How can we get them to understand that it may not seem important today, but it should be the most important thing ever in their lives, over boys, over girls, sports, friends, grades, clothes, appearance, etc.?

And if you read those lyrics and wonder, what does all of this mean?  It is about the Crucifixion and what all ‘we’ did to Jesus, who loves us anyway.  You can read Matthew 26 and 27 to get a decent idea of what is going on.  Make sure you have a translation you understand.  And you may even have to read it twice, as I often have to do, to fully grasp the meaning.  If you don’t have access to bible, but you’re sitting at a computer, go to www.biblegateway.com and type in the scripture above.  Try the New Living Translation or New International Version, they are the ones I understand and like the best.  (I use that website a lot, it is a very useful tool!)

I so wish I had the answers.  But God gives us the choice.  We have free will.  It is part of the whole package.  We must make the choice.  It is there for the taking, free, anytime, anywhere, anyhow.  But the choice has to be made.  Going to church, going to youth group, attending bible studies, taking mission trips, going to church camps and convocations does not mean that Jesus is in your heart.   Romans 10:9 says, “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”  Say the words and mean it.  No matter what you have done, he’ll love you anyway…

A LOVE STORY

/ apronsandappetites.com / 9 Comments

March 12 , 2001, was the day schizophrenia finally won the battle within the mind of my son, and the day my husband died as a result of that lost battle.

I purposefully waited until after that date to write this tribute to my late husband because that is also the day his sister tries to celebrate her birthday.  A hard thing to do, I’m sure, as she has lost her entire family unit (grandpa, grandma, great-aunt, great-uncle, mother, father, and brother) with whom she spent her childhood years until she moved away to college and then marriage.  Thankfully, God has given her a great second family although this year she has also lost a member of that as well:  a wonderful, loving, caring father-in-law.

It has been ten years since my husband died.  It seems like yesterday.  I will write about him this week because he deserves to have things written about him, and I know others miss him as much as I do and are taking note, as I do, of the passing years without him.

James Joseph “Jimmie Joe” was younger than I was; someone I wouldn’t in a million and one years have ever dreamed I would one day marry.  I suppose God had a different plan, or maybe He just took the circumstances James and I started and created something good, as only God can do.

James lived down the street from me.  He was between girlfriends, I suppose, and I was going through a divorce.  He would call and talk for a brief moment or stop and talk if he saw me out, and one day even knocked on my door.  And tell you the truth, I’m still not sure how I finally said I would go out with him.  But those first encounters eventually led to an actual date a few months later… and a marriage a couple of years later.  It was a scandalous affair!  We were the talk of our little town, and didn’t give a rip.  The only thing I cared about and he cared about were our families and how they would handle it, what they would think.  And I have to say, they were great sports even though I’m sure it was difficult to understand.  After all, James and I were polar opposites.

What a beautiful smile!

He loved that hat!

Can you see why anyone could not resist that smile?

Being polar opposites wasn’t enough to stand in the way of fate.  At least that’s what James always said, “You may as well accept it; it’s fate.”  There were lots of things he said, good things from a good man.

Tomorrow we’ll talk about that good man some more.

The Queen of The Clan

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My sis, Darla, is now the matriarch of our collective family, as well as her own.  We call her “The Queen,”  “Queenie,” and a few other things we try not to let her hear.  We’ve gotten her queen ornaments, queen jewelry, even tried to get her to put Queenie on her license plates.  Occasionally, she balks at being called The Queen, but I think she secretly tries on homemade crowns when she’s alone… and throws robes across her shoulders.   I’ve not personally seen this, mind you, but she carries herself too regally not to practice.

Mom

The Queen Mother, Jack, Queen Mother-In-Training

Before Mom passed away, Dar had been taking control from our mother for several years.  First came moving the holiday gatherings to my sister’s  house because Mom was too frail to have everybody at her house.  Okay.  That made sense.  Then came deciding when we were all going to meet and who was bringing what.  Okay.  That made sense… it was at her house.  Then came the day she started scolding me for something — I’m sure I wasn’t doing anything at all wrong whatsoever and didn’t need a good scolding for whatever I wasn’t doing wrong — and that’s when I knew.

all innocence

The baby of the family had usurped the rightful matriarch heirs (my older sister and myself) (Ben doesn’t count; he’s a guy and has no say-so anyway) and had thrust the Momma Crown right on her own head!  Her regal tone of voice and regal words of wisdom had lulled us into a state of acceptance without our even realizing it.  We had acceded her rise to the Momma Throne as surely as if we had placed her there ourselves.

But what if we really had placed her there ourselves?  Wasn’t she the one who always knew how to get a job for one of us in need?  Weren’t her words those that were just perfect for comforting, encouraging, advising, even scolding?  Was it not she that was always right there when any of us needed something: a hug, a caretaker, an organizer, a cleaning lady, a mover, a prayer warrior, a lighthouse in all our storms?

And weren’t we the ones that always sought her first?  Her wisdom for our worries; her heart for our concerns; her strong back for our labors; her love for our never-ending petitions.

Yes.  The Queen wears her title well.  Little did she know, we’ve had her in training for decades now.