Photo Credit: Creative Commons, Derek M. Swanson

When I was twenty, I spent months praying one request repetitively,

“God, if we are not mean to be, I pray you make him not ask me on any more dates. If he isn’t supposed to be my husband, I don’t want to move forward. Make it clear, please?”

As a girl who was devastated by heartbreak several times in high school and college, I was through with what felt like having my life ripped apart. So when a great guy came into the picture, I couldn’t stop praying that God would stop things before they started if it ‘wasn’t His will.” I knew how badly it hurt to be loved and then not, and so I made a deal with God.

This guy, let’s just call him Sam, was everything I believed God wanted for me in a husband. We became fast friends and I knew he was interested in more. He asked me on a date and I panicked. I feared the heartbreak. I feared what was coming. So I prayed and asked God to keep things from starting if we wouldn’t end up together. And I didn’t just pray for a week, I spent months begging God to protect my fragile heart.

I felt an enormous peace.  Everything fell into place, we started dating, and I thought God remembered our deal. I thought He answered my prayer.

Imagine my devastation when this relationship ended with yelling and tears fight nine months later. Sam and I didn’t end up together.

I remember pacing around campus asking God, “Why don’t you listen? Do you not remember how fervently I asked you to stop this relationship if it wasn’t meant to me??? Is this seriously how you treat well-intentioned daughters?”

Have you felt like God wasn’t listening? Have you ever wondered if God hears you at all?

Maybe all your friends are engaged or married and you can’t even bare to be around them anymore. Perhaps you have been trying to start a family for years and you are convinced everyone will have a baby before you. Or maybe you took a leap of faith, felt called in a certain direction or to a certain career, and everything blew up once you arrived.

What the heck, God? I prayed so much and only wanted your will—why didn’t you listen?

If you’ve ever wondered if God was listening, if He even cares about you, I want you to know you are not alone. If you live in Nashville, will you join Michael & I at The Well for food trucks and a discussion about feeling like God doesn’t listen or even care. 7:00 this Wednesday, June 19^th.

Hope to see you there! Invite a friend, whydontcha? The cool thing is you can come for the food trucks and if you feel panicked about staying or don’t think we’re cool enough–you can easily exit & we’ll never know. But, we really hope to see you Wednesday!

Have you ever had a similar experience? Do you think God is listening?

Dearest friends,

Exciting news! Michael & I would love to come speak at your event this fall. Whether it’s a singles group, college, a church, a retreat, a nonprofit event–we’d love to come. After emails started coming in about us speaking (mainly on college campuses), we prayed and cleared some things out of our schedule to allow time to really hit the ground running in the fall.

Will you help us spread the word? We’d love your suggestions. If you just wanted to send our Real Men Don’t Text video or landing page (just launched!) to your singles pastor, sorority, college, anyone who would be appropriate–we’d be grateful!

Michael will be doing most of the speaking, but we’re open to speaking together at weekend events.

Will you help us get the word out? And don’t forget to check out our website for Real Men Don’t Text>>RealMenDontText.com

love to each of you,

Ruthie

Also, we’re on Facebook! Will you like the page?  www.facebook.com/realmendonttext 

For booking inquires, please fill out this form. 

Since I know many of you will be traveling this summer and perhaps find yourself in need of a stunning novel, I’m giving away three copies of one of my new favorites When Mockingbirds Sing. I could tell you about how wonderful this novel is, but how would you like to watch the trailer and see for yourself?

Pretty incredible, right?

The author, Billy Coffey, has a remarkable story about becoming a novelist. Raised in small-town Virginia by a redneck farmer and a Mennonite mother, Coffey wanted to use his talents to leave the rural behind and become a pro-baseball player. After he tore his shoulder during one infamous game in high school, the scouts stopped showing up and he was left with what felt like nothing but shattered dreams. But it was only the beginning. He started writing and discovered the baseball accident was a stepping-stone towards an even greater calling. His first article after the injury in the local paper saved a suicidal girl’s life.

Billy started community college, but a seasoned editor begged him to stay away from creative writing classes because she feared it might ruin his voice. “Since that was the only reason I wanted to go to college at all, I decided to quit and focus on getting published,” Billy said.

He quit and started writing. As most dreams do, it took time for his writing ones to come to fruition. But eventually, an agent signed him and the rest is history. Billy lives with his wife and two children in Virginia’s Blue Ridge mountains, where there is no police force and where the fire department is funded by an annual summer carnival. Visit him at www.billycoffey.com.

To enter to win a copy of When Mockingbirds Sing, simply leave a comment below &  share this post on Facebook and/or Twitter!

On another note, some exciting news coming on the blog this week! Stay tuned . . . 

It was just two short years ago that we said “I do” under the birch trees in your parent’s backyard. It’s hard to believe isn’t it? These past two years have been so full of joy. My heart overflows just thinking about how lucky I am to be your wife; to laugh our way through the good times and hard ones, too.

The past years have encompassed celebrations and pregnancy scares, hospital visits and beach trips, emails & jumping & screaming that we have what it takes to be authors, pulling out our card table for dinner guests, and so much laughter.

Can you believe how much our love has grown? In honor of saying “I do” two years ago on that hot summer day, here are just a few reasons I love you. As I always say, I couldn’t love anyone more!

Much love,

Ruthie

Photo Credit: Creative Commons, Cuba

She is screaming and stomping her little tanned feet.

“Daddy, daddy, dadddyyy!”

She hollers and waves her arms perched on the edge of the sandy boardwalk. I determine she’s about four or five.

Her dad is the one with the terrible sunburn, in the blue shorts. I know because I’ve noticed him come down to the beach the past two days, and I’ve witnessed his daughter step right off the boardwalk into the sand. Why is she having a problem now?

Her dad is no more than 15 feet in front of her.  He has her baby sister perched on his hip and is (rather clumsily) attempting to put a stake in the ground for an umbrella.

There are three small stairs down off the boardwalk to the beach. The sand isn’t hot, because the hot sand won’t start until the later summer months. But she’s screaming that she can’t do it herself and she needs her dad’s help.

I am nearly in tears watching her dad’s reaction.

He drops the finicky umbrella, leaves their sand toys and bags behind, hoists the baby higher on his hip, and runs. He runs.

He doesn’t stand far off and let her figure out she can do it on her own. He doesn’t tell her she’s just fine and needs to calm down. He doesn’t roll his eyes at her childishness and ignore her wailing. Sure, she’s stepped off the boardwalk 35 times over the last few days without a hitch. Of course, he’s told her the sand isn’t hot and she has nothing to be afraid of because he’s with her.  But he doesn’t stand far off and teach her a lesson or let her stand their wailing and stomping until she grows tired.

Her good dad runs to her. He doesn’t walk, saying “ok, ok, you’ll be just fine.” He runs and bends down on her eye level and tells her everything will be ok because, “daddy’s here”. He scoops her up on his opposite hip and waddles with both daughters back over to the fallen umbrella and array of beach supplies.

There’s been a good deal of rhetoric lately suggesting that God is cruel and angry, out to punish us for offending His mercy. When tornado’s strike and children are buried, some have suggested that it’s because those people deserved tragedy because of their sins against God. Others have painted a picture of God as slightly more loving, but not intimately caring and seeing the affliction of our souls. This God teaches little girl’s lessons and stands far off too busy to run and help.

I spent 23 years of my life fearing God and tiptoeing around trying to avoid upsetting Him. I did a lot of good things in attempt to outweigh the bad. I lived in terror of His punishment. Bad things would happen and I would try to figure out what I did wrong to cause the pain and apologize to God over and over, begging for mercy. He was a cruel taskmaster. This God I feared for 23 years didn’t call me Daughter and didn’t run to me when I was scared, especially over little things like boardwalks and boys. I didn’t call him Dad and I didn’t believe He saw my wounded heart.

But now? I watch this little daughter and dad playing in the sand and am reminded of how deep and wide and long is the father’s love for us.

The Good Dad I know now runs to rescue little girls off boardwalks, scooping us in His arms and saying, “Dad’s here.  We’ll do this together.”

Now, the little girl is doing a gymnastics routine on an imaginary bar on the sand and her dad is watching and smiling. If you need rescuing or watching and smiling, I hope you feel our good Dad’s unfathomable tenderness. It might wreck you.

Let’s talk about your view of God. What is his response in the story above? Does he yell, “you’ll be fine”, roll his eyes, or run to scoop you up? Is He a cold tyrant or a good Dad? 

But I just couldn’t. I knew what I needed to do.

I needed to ask a friend for forgiveness.

It’s one of those messy situations where you can justify your actions, your words all you want–but there’s that lingering pit in your stomach that tells you it’s not ok. That you hurt someone you love and you need to talk about it. You need forgiveness.

All I wanted to do was brush it under the rug, write my blog post about the devastating tornado in Oklahoma, and deal with the situation tomorrow or perhaps next year. It’s humbling to admit you’ve hurt someone you love and telling them just makes that humility grow even deeper.

My pride told me to write my blog post and worry about it tomorrow; my heart told me to call her that moment.

I called her and told her how sorry I was, how I’d really messed up. I told her how I didn’t know what the truth was in the situation, but I did know that I loved her and wanted our friendship to move forward. Even though I did a terrible job being a friend to her over the last 9 months, I tried to communicate  ”I’m with you” versus what I’d been communicating: “I don’t agree with you”. 

I asked and she graciously gave. I feel relieved. A weight has been lifted. I can sleep, perhaps with a little less pride tonight. Until I wake up tomorrow and continue to hurt people and have to ask all over again. I am reminded that the simple question, “Will you forgive me” should never be far from our lips. And the grace of Jesus will always taste a little sweeter after we humble ourselves and ask.

Now, even though I didn’t write about the terrible tornados, will you consider texting the word STORM to 80888 to donate $10 to The Salvation Army’s efforts in Oklahoma? It I love when texting can be used for helping people! It takes one second and imagine how many we could help with our combined efforts. I’m praying for the people of Oklahoma and I hope you will join me. How quickly our lives can slip away. 

Photo Credit: Creative Commons, Helen Chang

I’ve spent most of my life feeling guilty for not doing more or being better, cooking like her or saving the homeless community like him. But the last two years for me have been about unwinding the guilt, the shame, the commitments that this week or this day will be different because I will do more or be better. I’m learning speak kindly to myself and not run around doing things merely to polish my image. I’m learning to say no to good things, in order to say yes to the really important ones. But it’s been a lot harder than I expected.

You don’t change your mind overnight, so a few weeks ago I slipped back into feeling inadequate and thinking about all the ways I was failing compared to everyone else. I mentioned in an email to a friend that I really should do better and she replied, “I’m going to mail you something.”

A few days later, a chapter from a wonderful book called Bittersweet arrived at my office with the title, “Things I Don’t Do.”

I started reading and the author, Shauna, talks about panicking about her inadequacies, her ‘to-do’ list, and how all the moms she knew were better at what felt like everything even though they had longer to-do lists than she did. She realized her mantra in life was “do everything better”. But she was coming unraveled and not doing the important things well, so she decided to stop.

She made a list of things she wanted her life to be about, a “things I do” list, and then gave herself permission to write things on a “things I don’t do” list. On the “things I don’t do” list, she listed gardening, scrapbooking, having a neat house, making her bed, baking, and getting dressed just to leave the house. She doesn’t apologize for going out in yoga pants everyday, not having a perfectly neat house, or showing up with store-bought cake. A “things I don’t do” list, gives freedom to focus on doing the important things well. But, it’s a lot harder than it sounds. As Shauna wrote,

“It’s not hard to decide what you want your life to be about. What’s hard, she said, is figuring out what you’re willing to give up in order to do the things you really care about.”

It’s hard for me not to do everything and especially difficult not to compare myself to other women. When I see someone who is an author, a mom, has a clean house, puts a hot meal on the table every day, and knows how to DIY a living room, a small part of me feels like a failure. I want to go home and jump on the performance treadmill and push myself harder, faster; chanting “Be better” and “Do more”.

But I’m a firm believer that we will miss the greatest gifts and opportunities in life if we are always in a hurry, measuring success by the accomplishments of those around us.

So I scribbled a list on a notepad and wanted to share my  ’things I don’t do” list with you. I don’t do these good things, because I’m committed to doing what I’m called to do well. I’m committed to writing and loving my husband with all my heart and reaching out to hurting, hopeless women.

Things I Don’t Do

1. Impress people with my house or my cooking. I don’t have the gift of hospitality and when I open my door, my goal is for people to feel at home, not to wow them with my perfect decor or from scratch cooking abilities. That’s great for some people, but I took the pressure off myself in this department. 
   
2. Apologize for missing church activities. I give myself permission to not be at everything Michael needs to be at (he works at church) and squelch the guilt feelings about missing church.
3. Volunteer. Sure volunteering is great,but at this point in my life in between writing and working I have nothing left to give and no more time. Maybe someday I will, but for now the answer is no.
4. Agree to more than two activities after work. I need downtown and crave time with just Michael. This rule allows me to spend quality time with my husband.
5. Diet. Dieting makes me cranky, sometimes irrational and I simply cannot love my husband & write coherent sentences with a restricted caloric intake. If I am stressed about my weight, I’ll always choose the gym for my sanity and everyone else’s (you’re welcome).

So there’s my list! Freedom! I hope you make one too.

 What can you give yourself permission not to do in order to do what you were made for?  What will be on your list? 

The sky turned black within seconds. We sat perched by the doorway of a muggy noodle shack, watching the tanned Asian faces stir the big steaming pots that rested on the floor. The storm was coming, my friend, “Small Moon”, told me and we weren’t going to make it home before it hit. So we continued to sip our piping hot tea and slurp our noodles, discussing this new God I spoke often of. She’d just become a Christian three days before.

The storm came, starting with a heavy rain.

Small Moon wanted to see me for what we thought would be the last time, to ask questions of faith and life and understand how to talk to her family about Jesus. I gave her a handful of the booklets explaining the Gospel in Chinese, did my best to advise her in simple English, trying to ignore  the two older gentlemen who stood, hands behind their backs, just feet from our table. My white face made me stand out.  We ignored the gathering storm.

We left just in time for her to make it a mile or so back to her dorm before curfew. Small Moon and I  put on our ponchos, rolled up our jeans, opened our umbrellas; she commented that the storm wasn’t nearly as bad as she expected during the “rainy season”.

We sloshed our way through the streets that flowed with water up to our ankles, our conversation turned to shouting because of the thunder and lightning. A taxi flew by, splashing us with muddy water. I cringed, but my friend just giggled.

The winds picked up and the rain slanted across the sky, drenching us. “Let’s run!” I shouted and we quickly, yet carefully made our way up a steep hill in the dark. The lightning flashes came closer and closer together, enabling us to see the sidewalk and pick up our pace.

Just five more blocks. 

You don’t understand the phrase, “the sky opened up”, until you’ve experienced water like we did that night. It was like buckets of water dumped out of the sky and came off the ground and hit you from every angle, like a very angry car wash was trying to cleanse the entire city. I started running, but stopped when her yellow poncho wasn’t in my peripheral. I turned around and Small Moon had dropped her umbrella. She wasn’t running, she just stood there . . . laughing.

Staying dry was futile.

We started jumping and splashing and shouting and chasing each other towards the biggest puddles, visible when the lightning flashed across the ink blue heavens. It was more than just a party in a rainstorm–we rejoiced that we were His; laughed with the absolute beauty, yet absurdity that our good Dad called us daughters.

Stomping water in the streets during a furious storm, taught me so much about God’s love. It was almost as if, at that moment, God showed us the total fury of his love. I was across the world, laughing and playing in a rainstorm with my new friend who was different from me in every way, yet who too had seen the beauty and love of God. She now wanted to tell her whole village about Jesus, which we would do together four years later.

In that storm, I stood in the perfect representation of when Christian rules and even good deeds meet God. It didn’t matter that my sin list was longer than everyone else’s I knew, that I skipped my morning devotion, or that those booklets would be soaked and illegible once Small Moon made it home.

We can follow the rules, force our faith into a tiny box, hide our shortcomings, judge others–but then the furious love of God washes over, leaving us completely undone. Because His love is not a gentle, quiet love that you take in under a poncho. It cannot be contained by our rules, or denominations; understanding, or theology. Neither can it be ruined or diluted by our disgrace.

After one of these experiences, you don’t want to waste your time debating ‘church’ issues, or hating the sin, not the sinner, or worrying about what percentage to tithe–you want to love people. Your heart overflows with gratitude for what Jesus gave and you want to love with everything inside.

You want in on this furious, raging love of God that sweeps away our futile umbrellas and soaks us to the very core.

But often we get busy. We grow numb. We become important. Or maybe, our hearts break. All hearts do at one time or another.

I’m reminded today that God isn’t concerned about our rule-following, our Christian image, our church attendance, or our theology.

He wants our hearts. That’s all He’s ever wanted.

When the furious love of God capsizes your ship, you’ll feel so silly standing there worrying about your image, or comparing your sin list to your friends’. When the storm hits, you’ll see there is nothing you can do but stand still and soak in the intense energy of the waters. God loved us not that we could perfect our lives but that we might live and experience His love.

A furious love, that sweeps us away.

Have you experienced a moment where you felt completely and totally overwhelmed by God’s love? What was that like for you? Is it easy to forget & grow “busy” or “important”?

How do you know if the guy you’re dating is ‘the One’? Will you “just know”?

The scary part about marriage is most people make this decision of gargantuan proportion in love, which by definition means your mind is hazy from all the 3am make-outs and sheer thrill thinking no one has ever loved like this before. Dating Michael for me meant my journal entries were frequent and swirly with emotional statements in all caps like “MICHAEL DEAN IS THE GREATEST . . . & HE LOVES ME!” I will tell you that I knew he was ‘the One’ the first month we started talking; he knew I was ‘the One’ after he saw he perform a Taylor Swift song with some kids I was babysitting. Long story. 

But how do you know? How do you know if the man you are dating is the person you should spend the rest of your life waking up next to?

We’ll talk more about this in Real Men Don’t Text (which is now just $7 at Amazon
& Barnes and Noble), but it isn’t necessarily true that you’ll just know when you meet him. The ability to discern if your guy is right for you depends on who you’ve dated in the past and whether or not you know what a good relationship looks like. For example, if you’ve only dated players or even mediocre guys in the past and suddenly you decide your boyfriend is “the One”–I would caution you to take a step back and really evaluate. Sure, he may be better than all the other guys you’ve ever dated . . . but you don’t marry better, you marry BEST. Amen from the married ladies?

Let’s look at a few characteristics of “the One”:

1.) Your friends and family agree. Most of them, at least. If most of your friends and family think your guy brings out the best in you and will be a great person to start a life with that is a very good sign you might have found “the One”. You’ll want to be careful here with extremes. If everyone in your life has raised concern–parents, friends, and most people who know you well–I promise they are not trying to bully you; only care for you because they can often see red flags that you can’t. But it’s unreasonable to think that everyone will agree with your decision, so don’t worry if just a handful of people don’t like his taste in music or his career.

2.) Character. Is he trustworthy? Kind? Forgiving? Character makes marriages stand the test of time. Character is who he is when no one is looking. Does he do what is right or what is easy? Men of high character bring out the best in you. Are you a better version of yourself since meeting him? Will the two of you be better together rather than apart? These are all great questions to consider in making this choice.

3.) You don’t want to change him. Do you love him just the way he is? Does he love you for you? If you have major changes you’re hoping happen in his life, he’s not “the One”. You can’t marry someone hoping they’ll change; just like he shouldn’t marry you hoping you’ll wake up one day and be a different person. Major changes sound like, “I really hope he stops drinking.”; “I’m praying for him to believe in God”; “I’m hoping he’ll open up to the idea of children.”

4.) Companionship. You love being with him. You have fun together.  If you couldn’t make out with him, would you just enjoy being around him? Are you friends? The rich companionship in marriage is my favorite part. I’m telling you, Michael Dean makes me laugh more than anyone I know and I have more fun with him than with I could’ve imagined.

5.) He is a servant leader. Lately, I’ve heard horror stories of ‘Christian men’ berating their wives and running their households like a dictatorship. Jesus demonstrated for men how husbands should love their wives–leading by serving. Michael is an incredible example of this style of leadership and he never demands that I “submit to his authority”. Can you trust him to lead your family? Or will you have to do all the heavy lifting?

6.) You are on the same life path. Do you want the same things from life? Is his idea of success converting a Muslim country and yours is living down the street from your parents and traveling to the Caribbean every year? Does he want to live in a shoebox apartment in New York, but you can’t stand the city and long for a quiet house on acres of land? Talk about the future now and seriously consider if compromise is possible or if you need to move on. It may not seem like a big deal now, but it will become one.

7.) You have a voice in your relationship. Does he  make you feel special? Do your opinions matter, or is it all about him?  You will suffer in the long-run if you have to put your dreams and goals on the back burner because he doesn’t see them as valuable.

8.) Chivalry. Chivalry doesn’t mean you’re not a feminist and it isn’t degrading. Does he care for you and keep you safe? Treat you with respect? Do you feel special when you’re with him? Would he get in a fight on your behalf? Passivity is eating away at many men and you want to marry a man who rejects the urge to sit back.

What would you add to the list? If you are married, I’d love for the single ladies to hear in the comments how you knew your husband was the One.

Love Runs

Occasionally, I just need to make a list of things I love around the internet. Here goes!

LOVE RUNS Remote 5k

In lieu of presents and parties for her 30th birthday, my friend Ally Vesterfelt is raising $30,000 to build a classroom in Gulu, Uganda with Bob Goff and Restore International. Pretty amazing, right? This Saturday, runners around the country will run a remote 5k and all the money will go to build this classroom. The cost is $35 and includes a “Love Runs” t-shirt we can all wear while we run (inspired of course by Bob Goff’s Bestselling book Love Does). The first three people to register from my blog and email me your receipt get a copy of Love Does. Register here: http://loveruns.eventbrite.com/

What is Love? Video

An elderly couple after 50 years of marriage share their story. Get out the tissues for this video: http://ow.ly/kK3QP

Brilliant Design Work Reaches Abused Kids

This might be one of the most genius advertising ideas I’ve seen in a while. This poster gets a secret message to kids across that adults can’t see. Check it out here.

Art: 

Sarah Virginia Fine Art is a website you absolutely must check out. Sarah Virginia’s mission as an artist is to art is to capture significance by creating permanent impressions of life’s fleeting moments. Oh and she’s my little sister!

Matt Appling wrote this fantastic book called Life After Art.  It’s all about regaining the creativity we had as children & not being afraid to pursue our creative passions. LOVED IT. Check it out. You’ll love rediscovering you were made to create beauty, not ugliness.

Laughing Really Hard in My Cube:

14 Engagement Photos that Will Make You Happy You’re Single

Dove Campaign Parody: Men, Less Beautiful than They Think

Contact me here if you sign up for the 5K & the first three people get a copy of Love Does!

What have you found around the Internet lately that you love?