{when i gave up on my marriage}

I remember the days when I was ready to give up. When it was hard to love you. When it was hard to love me. I remember loud, violent fights. I remember throwing things and screaming in your face. I remember slapping you trying to evoke a response.

Such a bitter wife you had, Jim. Such a broken, confused, bitter wife. Full of sin and sadness and hatred.

I remember words that tore you down. Cut to the quick. I remember betrayal. I remember hurt. I remember chasing anything that might make me feel whole... or that would numb the pain I knew inside.

I remember giving up. Knowing in my heart that we weren't going to make it. That there was no way. Imagining what it would be like to not have my children on the weekends.

And then, oh then… the unexpected.

Then I bumped into Jesus.

Looking back, He had been there all along, pursuing, wooing, calling… but this time I realized it was Him. This time I was ready to relent. This time I was ready to give up and give in and throw my heart into His hands…

And slowly He began to heal the hurt, the hate, the bitterness… the brokenness he found there.

You didn’t understand what was going on. You saw me going to church on Sunday and yet during the week I was still this mess of a wife sometimes. It was such a struggle between who I had become and who I was becoming. I walked out my fledgling faith so poorly before you at first.

But things were changing at the heart level.

And even that day when I stood in our empty house with tears streaming down my face saying  ”God, this is IMPOSSIBLE! He hates me now! I have ruined everything!!! Tell me God, how in the world can we NOT get divorced?” Even when everything in me said there was no way, we had gone too far, said too much, hurt too deeply… I wanted to turn that sinking ship around and find shore before we drowned.

It seemed impossible. Everyone could see it. Our family, our friends, our children.

And then, there are the prayers of a three year old. There are the prayers of a three year old girl in her bed that no one knew about until last year… there are prayers of a little girl saying “God, please don’t let mom and dad get divorced.”

And God was listening.

Slowly, I learned what it meant to really follow Jesus. How to love like Him, even when it was hard. How to bite my tongue when everything in me wanted to argue or nag or convince. How to walk as a Godly wife, in submission even to one who did not yet believe.

And then, I gave up for real. I  realized that I couldn't fix what I had broken, only God could do that. I couldn't undo the hurt I had caused, only God could do that. I couldn't make my husband fall in love with me again, only God could do that.  

It was not me, but Jesus in me… refining and teaching me through this marriage.  It was Jesus fanning the flame of my first love and giving me the want to to make it work. It was Jesus listening to a little girl’s pure and simple prayer to keep her family together. It was Jesus teaching me how to love my husband with His love.

Jim, it was hard. It was hard to know what a bitter wife I had been to you. It was hard to know that the words you spoke out of hurt, came from wounds I placed there. I am so sorry, babe… I am so sorry.

And then Jesus called this one with so many words to live a quiet life before her husband. To love you well, even when it was hard. To let you lead, even when I thought I knew a better plan. He told me to get so completely out of the way, that He would have direct access to your heart. I was learning how to love you like Jesus does.

And we began to fight again. Not with each other, but for our marriage.

We fought with the tools of compromise and apologies and patience and perseverance.

Ours is truly a love worth fighting for. When I’m driving down the road and I think about the way your smile explodes into your eyes… I still get butterflies. When you sneak behind me in the kitchen and kiss my neck… there is still electricity.  The love I have in my heart for you has never been this big or this pure or this full of admiration.

You amaze me, Jim Boyles. You amaze me with your quiet love. You amaze me with your quiet service. You amaze me with your gentle care of me. The way you flirt with me and make me feel pretty. Figuring out how to make all my favorite foods gluten free.  Giving me the space to chase hard after Jesus. The way you care for others: building bedrooms for dreamed-of-children, mowing lawns without ever being asked, rescuing from the side of the road, coaching little men in so many more things than baseball and football- but also character and integrity and sportsmanship.

Thank you for not giving up on me. On us. On our family.

Friends, if you are at the end of your rope… ready to throw in the towel and walk away. Know this… God is able. He is able to take something that is broken and hurting and make something beautiful. He is able to take a marriage that is coding and bring new life. He is able to take your bitterness and replace it with love, your anger and give you gentleness, your hopelessness and give you HOPE. He is able. If He was able to take the mess that was Jim and Becky Boyles and create the beauty that we now know, truly He is able to do anything. 

I won't sugar coat it and tell you that the journey was easy- it was not. There were few steps forward and many steps back. But when I look over at the man driving us to church on a Sunday morning, my heart explodes with praise to the God that restores. I thank God that He gave me a heart of surrender in my marriage! I thank God that He showed me how to love this man well... 

Happy (in)Dependence Day, friends!

[note: blog redesign in progress. read my disclaimer here.]

I started out writing a post wishing you all a very happy Independence Day. To wax poetic about the cost of freedom, and the price paid by extraordinary men and women so that I can write a blog like this one, expressing opinions, sharing stories, and openly loving on Jesus all the while. I wanted to draw the clear parallel about a similar price paid by an extraordinary God so that we could know freedom in Him. All of it true, all of it challenging, all of it worthy of a blog post.

But I keep getting hung up on that word... independence. 

Every time I typed it, I was struck by the reality that while I love freedom (freedom in America and in Christ), I don't live a life of independence at all... nor do I really want to. As I wrote about Independence Day, I couldn't stop thinking about what life in community looks like. And how beautiful dependence on one another really is. And how desperately I depend on my Savior. And how I wouldn't change that for the world.

I think about the way I depend on my incredible husband... How I depend on him to do stuff like charge the air conditioner in my truck (in a Walmart parking lot in Evansville, nonetheless) so we don't have to ride home in 100 degree heat without a/c. Or the way I depend on him to love me, even when I am kind of unlovable. Or the way I depend on him to be there with an ornery smile, sharing the inside joke only he and I really understand. No, I wouldn't want to change that a bit. His dependence on me, and mine on him... lives intertwined so that we would be less without the other... I would not want to change that for the world. 

Or the way I depend on my friends to come through with a text message that makes me laugh at just the right moment. How my heart depends on their encouragement. The way I depend on them to challenge and sharpen me. A mutual dependence of love and respect. Community. Life without these people would be... too quiet. Too lonely. God speaks to my heart through them, and I would be less without their friendship.

But mostly, I think about my dependence on Christ. How many times a day I ask Him to help me...

Jesus, help me love this person well. 

Jesus, teach me how to seek your heart more.

Jesus, help me to seek YOUR approval, not man's.

Jesus, show me the next step.

Jesus, tell me how humility would respond.

Jesus, give me the strength to forgive.

Jesus, help me... Help me keep my mouth shut. Help me speak words of blessing. Help me rest in your joy. Help me keep my mind steadfast in you. Help me, help me, help me.

I know. I am really needy. 

And He is always there. He is always listening, heeding my cries for help. And I am so thankful... because I couldn't do this thing on my own. I couldn't raise children in the light of His love all by myself. I couldn't submit to the will of my husband (as good as he is) without clothing myself in the humility that comes from Christ.  I couldn't write these word without His inspiration and continual confirmation.  I couldn't chase Him with abandon if He didn't allow me to catch up to Him often enough to keep me thirsting for more. The Lord knows, I couldn't keep my mouth shut when my mind is firing appropriately sarcastic responses at warp speed without the whisper of His Holy Spirit showing me a better way. 

And perhaps more importantly, I couldn't be refined by my mistakes when I fail [almost daily] at these same things, without His grace.

I am striving to live a life in dependence on Him... a life lived (in)dependence of the One who knows the end from the beginning.

And the strangest thing is happening. The more I rely on Him, the more I look to Him for my next step, the more I count on Him to guide me... the more freedom I feel in my spirit.

As Misty Edwards sings... "it's an inside outside upside down Kingdom where you lose to gain, and you die to live"

It's a Kingdom where you live (in)dependence so that you can walk in freedom.

And not just the illusion of freedom. Not just a "getting to do what you want" warm fuzzy. But real freedom. Real liberty. Freedom that will cause your spirit to soar, and your fears to ease, and your love to grow, and your mourning cease. It is for FREEDOM that Christ set us free. It is for FREEDOM that He offers us the (in)dependent life.

Today I celebrate the country that allows me to live that (in)dependent life boldly... and I pray that you will join me on this wild ride in this upside down Kingdom... where we grow in freedom as we grow in our dependence on Him!

Happy (in)Dependence Day my friends!

08: jim

Confession... [I am already beginning to cry and I haven't even written anything yet.]

That's how much I love the man I am lucky enough to spend my life with. There are not words in the English language to adequately explain what it is like to love someone like Jim Boyles. I remember the first time I ever saw him. He was climbing onto the school bus, and as he looked at me a smile spread across his face. But this was no ordinary smile... Jim has the most incredible smile I have ever seen. It's like fireworks, exploding with delight in his eyes... it's a smile that still today causes my heart to fall for him all over again.

I sit here and wonder, how could it be that I would meet the love of my life when I was only fifteen years old? That I would hold in my heart twenty years of memories with the man I love? That I would find the one that would walk this path with me, for better or worse, richer or poorer?  When I think about that teenage boy that climbed onto the school bus in the light of the man that I spend all my days with I am amazed. My how we have grown. Certainly, the last two decades have had their fair share of mistakes, poor decisions, and hurt... but they have also been full of new life, joy, laughter, love, and of course, smiles.

Jim Boyles is a man who loves well. And I am so blessed to have that in my life... day in and day out.

As I sit here, I can hear him hammering away as he makes me one of these  [check out that cool barn wood headboard I found on pintrest... you want one too, don't ya?]... at some point today he has gathered up old barn wood, and now he is spending his evening out in the garage. Just to make me something.

Saturday night as I thought about a photoshoot I would be doing the next day, I remembered a wooden train we keep in our Christmas decorations. When he saw "wooden train" scribbled on my to-do list for the next morning he said "that is going to be impossible to find! it's waaaaaay in the back of all of those boxes of decorations"... but what he did was get up the next morning and found it.

That's just the way he loves.

With hammer and nails and old barn wood. Or a step ladder and teetering boxes of Christmas decorations. Or a can of gas and a friend at the side of the road. Or a box of shingles up on the roof. Or a hood up on the church van. Or burgers on the grill. Or long, hot evenings at the ball park.

Some people love with words. Some people love with gifts. Jim loves with his life. He's one who does for those people and things he cares about. He may say it can't be done... but somehow, he always seems to find a way. Which is a good thing when you are married to someone like me, who is forever coming up with another hair brained scheme that she just can't do without your help.

Jim... I cannot imagine life without you. The way that you father our children, as a man that they can look up to and admire, is uncommon in this world today. My heart swells as I see you raising up as a man of courage, unashamed of your faith. But mostly, thank you for loving me. For supporting me and my crazy ideas. For building me barn wood headboards and back drops. For planting a dream in my heart and then being my constant encourager as I walk it out. For reading my blog. For your complete inability to hack my facebook (ha!). For stepping over piles of creativity in the living room when I am in a crafting fervor. For teaching me how to use a hammer properly. For loving me without make-up. For letting me hold the remote.  For allowing me to chase Jesus with all I have, even when it means late nights and crazy ideas.

There's more. There's so much more. But ugly cry makes it hard to see the screen to type... and so I will just say, thank you for loving me.  I know it's hard sometimes. I know that I can be moody, and difficult, and demanding. Yet you love me just the same.... Jim, my life would be less without you. I would be less without you. Thank you for helping me find me... thank you for loving, and for loving well.  

Submission is...

Scary blog title, huh? It's okay, you aren't going to have to sit through my definition today! But God has given me a testimony about this topic, and some day I look forward to sharing it!

The last two days I have listened to a broadcast from Beth Moore by Focus on the Family entitled Embracing God's View of You Marriage. It's been SO good. If you go to the Focus on the Family website you can listen to this two part series online. To find them I did a search on their site for "Beth Moore" and this broadcast was first on the list... or you can see if this link works [no guarantees, folks... and this is only for the first half. the link appears to be broken for the second half so you'll have to go through their site to find it].

http://listen.family.org/daily/A000001921.cfm

It honestly doesn't matter if you are or are not married- if you are in a relationship you should listen. There's a lot more to the message than Biblical submission, so go and listen.

But this is the quote that sealed the package with a little bow for me. I love it...

Submission means learning to duck, so God can hit your husband.
-Beth Moore

friday flashback.... anniversary edition

Seventeen years ago at this very moment, a sophomore girl at the high school was a bundle of nerves. The cute boy at school she'd had her eye on forever had agreed to go with her to the Sadie's Hawkins dance that night. They were friends, and conversation usually came easy, but would it be different on a "date". Would it be weird and awkward? Will they dance? What if he doesn't like her? What if he does? And who picks a Friday the 13th to hold a first date? It was nearly more than a fifteen year old girl's heart could handle. She looked back over the school day, remembering every glance and smile they had exchanged that day. Please God, just let it be okay! Okay?

That night, Jim and I had our first date. We were both fifteen [but he was a freshman]. Was it awkward- you betcha! The first hour or two he hung out with his friends while I tagged along like a desperate puppy. But once the actual dance started, and the lights dimmed... his focus shifted to yours truly. Conversation came easily again. Dancing with him felt natural, right. And sometime that night we became BeckyandJim. By Monday morning it was apparent to all my friends that something good was going on. And leave it to Bev with her gift of blunt... "So, are you two dating or what?" Jim's answer, with a shrug "I guess". And it was official.

We were immediately inseparable, spending hours and hours and hours on the phone. Before long I was meeting his family, and this picture was taken on my first outing with the Boyles' clan in 1992. To this day it is one of my very favorite pictures of us. Even with the hair- mine the size of Montana (granted the wind had something to do with that) and Jim's little mullet peeking out the back- I can't help but smile with joy every time I look at it. His mom snapped this shot of the two of us during a boat ride, completely lost in each other. Completely happy. BeckyandJim.

Seventeen years. It's mindboggling, really. I look back and it feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago. Seventeen years is a long time to spend with the same person, especially when you are just 32! I hope though, that seventeen years is just the beginning of our story. That some day we are looking back on fifty or sixty or seventy years together. It's not always been easy, and we've had our fair share of trials... but looking back I wouldn't change a thing. And looking forward I can't imagine life any other way.

i can't breathe...

when i think about stories like this one. All-American family. One son, a daughter on the way. One day announcing the name of your baby girl, the next laughing about soccer practice, and the next announcing that you've had to take your husband to the hospital. He was admitted. Within two weeks he has gone home to be with the Lord. I can't even breathe when I think about the enormity of this kind of loss. When for the split second that I can stand it, I try to put myself in this young mother's shoes. But only for a split second, because I would go crazy to stay in that place much longer.

I think of Jim and how frustrated I can get about the most retarded things. How mad I get when I hear from Bev that we have plans with them- Jim and Garry have talked about it- but I haven't been clued in. (and I know you know what I mean Bev- I love hanging with you guys- and thankfully Garry's learned to text me directly to keep me in the loop!) How insigificant is that. How hurt I was when he got so upset about the ding we (being Zach, Mother Nature, and I) put in Thomas's door. How hateful I wanted to be in return. Instead of thanking God that we were having that argument IN CHURCH, where he wanted to be so bad he dragged our sick daugther to the service so he wouldn't miss it! How insignificant. How selfish. How self-centered. I know that the woman who writes the blog I linked above would probably give everything just to hear her husband's voice one more time, even if it is frustrated.

What if something like this happened to him? What would I do then? But I can't go there. I love him to the core of who I am. And even though we don't communicate the same way. Even though we love differently. Even though I get on his nerves sometimes and he on mine. Even though I get so focused on myself that I can't see beyond my nose at times... I love him. And I cannot imagine my life without him. I cannot. He is amazing. And it may sound cheesy, but he completes me... because he is who I am not. He is who God chose to finish the package. To tie up my loose ends.

I know that this post is going all over the place...and I'm officially into the ugly cry now. Please know that I am writing from a very, very deep place inside of me that goes untouched for the most part. But I just received the most beautiful gift. A plain white cd... it doesn't look like much... but it is full of pictures of my dad. And reading that blog, and then looking at those pictures, and I'm reminded of how temporary this life is. My daddy has been gone for two decades, but looking at those pictures I was the twelve year old little girl who just heard the words "your daddy is gone". And it was just like that. In a flash. No warning.

I know what God means by a "vapor on the wind".... I've seen the vapor vanish in a moment. But man, I do a terrible job living my life in the light of that reality.

Lord, help me to love better today. Help me to show my appreciation for the little things. Give me the grace I need to overlook small hurts and offenses. Help me love like you love Lord. I thank you for this day... I thank you for the breath you give me this moment. I thank you for the family and friends that you have put in my life that complete me. And I thank you, Jesus, than you understand what it means to be separated from someone that you love, and that you were willing to do that for me. Father, help me love through the annoyances, frustrations, and hurt... just like you love me. Jesus, make me more like you.

how he loves me

• The oil in my truck- that he changes faithfully every 3,000 miles.
• The large Dr. Pepper- that he will stop and get me on his way home. The kind in the styrofoam cup with the good ice. The kind that is better than any other kind, that he has to go out of his way to get.
• The gas in my truck- probably pumped and paid for by him. He does so without grumbling or complaining, which is more than I can say for myself when I have to put gas into my own truck. He just checks the gauge and then pulls up to the pump.
• The couch- that he always lets me lay on in the evening. The one with the best view of the TV.
• The time away from home- mostly spent at church, grouping, or Emmaus functions. Time that he graciously allows me to have, guilt-free... to do what God wants me to do even though he really doesn't understand yet why I'm doing it. Even picking the kids up from church every Wednesday night without question or complaint so that I can "do my thing".
• The chicken salad- that he makes while making his own tuna salad. Because he knows I don't like tuna.
• The green pitcher in our fridge- always filled with semi-sweet tea made just for me. Just to my liking. Because I'm the only person I know that likes semi-sweet tea. So when he makes the Kool-Aid and the normal person tea, he also makes mine.

there are dozens more. probably hundreds. sometimes i don't appreciate them. others i don't even notice them. but tonight, as i sipped my dr. pepper, the one with the really good ice, i realized just how good i have it.

he may not always be the most romantic man in the world. and most of the time communication is NOT his strong point.

but he speaks his love in so many other ways... i just have to be sure i'm listening.

it's the thought that counts

I talked to my mom earlier today, and she shared with me how excited my hubby is about Christmas this year. Apparently, he has purchased me a gift - which in itself is a miracle... it's been years since Jim got my gift before Christmas Eve- and he's about to bust he's so excited about it. Clandestine phone calls, sneaking behind my back, swearing my son to secrecy... the whole kit & kaboodle.

Admittedly, it makes me *very* intrigued as to what my gift is. I'm sure if I applied much pressure, Zach would fold... but I'd rather spend the next week and a half basking in my husbands excitement at surprising me.

He's not been giddy like this in a long time. Especially when it comes to me. All I can say is, God is good... and the most amazing gift I've received this year is the restoration of our marriage!

Yay God! And Yay Jim! I love you both :)

it's officially begun...

BALL SEASON in E'town has officially started. For my husband, it started months ago as he's somehow managed to inherit the league... but for our family as a whole it became a reality tonight at the kid's first practice- Zach and twenty other 3-5 year olds playing tee-ball.

Read that again... twenty-one 3-5 year olds...

Thankfully, in a moment of clarity, Jim decided to divide them into two teams. Seeing them all together tonight was completely overwhelming for me!!! So I can't imagine what Jim must be feeling with his binder full of registrations for tee-ball through high school kids! All I can say is ... Praise the Lord for other involved parents willing to help out as well, summer ball on any scale is a big undertaking. I got a little taste of why he does it though... Tonight, as my sweet hubby walked across the field a little three year old yelled out "Hey Coach!" with a very "that's the man that's in charge and I'm going to get to know him" kind of tone. Cutest thing ever [right Andi?].

It's been cool for me taking the back seat and watch Jim head this up. I'm usually the one with irons in the fire. The one getting home late. Or with meetings. Or running the kids places. But on the ball thing- I'm just the helpmate. And it feels pretty darned good :) I'm trying to be very patient. To ignore the number of meetings he has in a week's time. To be realistic about the fact that he will be at the ball field at least a portion of every night of the week. Because he's pretty good about letting me do my thing.

So if you need to talk to us the next couple of months, and we aren't home... follow the sound of "hey batter! batter! batter!....."



[ps. photo of Jim and Zach taken 6.30.07]

friday flashback

this is something i've hoped to make a feature on my blog for a while... but alas i seem to remember about "friday flashback" on saturday! none of you who really know me are surprised, are you? hopefully i will do a decent job remembering. my idea is to include pictures & memories that are special to me. i tend to live in the today and it's nice to have a good excuse to take a glance over my shoulder at the path that brought me here.

today's pictures were taken on our honeymoon. check out how skinny we are! holy cow! we spent our honeymoon not in an exotic far-off location, but in beautiful brown county, indiana. we went to the mall one day and cheesed it up in one of those corny [yet irresistable] photo booths. i love the third one... you can just see how happy we were, how much fun we had. the feeling was and is indescribable.

marriage can be tough. eventually the honeymoon has to end. but i'm learning now that with a little effort, a bit of work, a lot of patience, and a smidge of grace... the joy, the love, the happiness, the closeness, the desire, the fun... doesn't have to.

thanking God today for jim. for the way that he takes care of my family. for his smile. for his sense of responsibility. for his loyalty. for putting up with me when it had to be difficult for him. for his friendship. for his love.

for better or worse [but mostly better]

marriage is a funny thing... intimate, frustrating, comfortable, disappointing, wonderful. i've been thinking about marriage a lot lately. my marriage. marriage in general.

God has focused my mind on this topic lately. i've known for about two weeks i wanted to blog some about marriage... and as i thought about what picture i would use to accompany the blog, i considered some photos of jim and i together. nice, but not exactly what i had in mind. i took numerous pictures of my rings on my hand. it still wasn't right. Then i pulled my rings off, and took the picture you see above. there was purpose in my removing my rings... i noticed some things that i hadn't really thought about before.

the first thing i noticed was this little piece of fuzz hooked on one of the little prongs. hmmm... wonder how long that's been there? who knows, really. and marriage can be like that. you can get caught on something little, and it just hangs there, unspoken, unnoticed... yet detracting from the beauty of your relationship. i've done it. let something ridiculous hang there between us, not even realizing it's there, knowing that something's not right but making no effort to remove it.

then, as i pulled my rings from my finger i noticed that my engagement ring has actually molded to my finger... no longer the perfect circle jim placed on my finger ten years ago. i'd never noticed that before, but it too says a lot about a marriage. over years, the spoken can go unspoken. all the jokes are inside jokes. entire conversations can be had in glances. knowing there will be someone home when you get there. having a soft place to fall. comfort.

comfortable, yes, but not perfect. as i took this picture i was a little surprised to notice all the nicks and scrapes in the gold. ten years of daily wear evidenced all over both rings. ten years of the daily grind, evidenced in our marriage. a little scratch here when i took his dinner for granted. a little cut there as he spoke unkindly. without a little time to polish and care for it, a marriage can end up completely marred by these tiny hurts. [and now is the time to polish]

finally, i took note of the stone itself. not impressive in size. not the kind of ring that people comment on it's beauty. just a simple single-stone ring. but absolutely beautiful to me... for the stone in my ring is a diamond my dad bought for my mom. ahhh, and who do you learn marriage from if not from your mom and dad. now i realize that their marriage was not perfect [none of them are]... but it was as close as i have ever known. our life was not easy. money was tight. dad had to work as a truck driver- gone all week. but there was so much love. unconditional love. they fought, sometimes so loud they'd have to take it to the garage! but they always made up, and they always reassured my brother and i that while sometimes grown-ups don't get along... no matter what dad and mom loved each other. i remember a marriage of fun and laughter. a marriage of forgiveness. a marriage of joy. a marriage of compromise. a marriage of generosity.

their marriage is the foundation of ours. we were married on their anniversary, in fact. but sometimes i forget the example i have to go on. i get my feelings hurt and i hold a grudge. i get offended and fail to forgive. i take for granted and fail to appreciate. and i want to make it [his] fault... before i know it our life is marred with a bunch of tiny little scratches- so many of them that it becomes hard to see the amazing man that jim is. the person that God ordained for me. the man that God wrote into MY story.

but lately, God's been opening my eyes to how blessed i truly am. and as i slide my rings back onto my finger, i'm thankful that after all these years... it's still the perfect fit.