Unlikely

(a remix from the archives)
Jeff is a delightful story teller. A master really. I've always admired it. He told me stories from the first time I met him and I was as taken by them as the crowds who love his stories now. 
But those stories aren't what convinced me. 
Instead, I was convinced in that one moment when I said all those things. 
Things I hadn't spoken in years because I was trying so hard to overcome all of my seriousness. But with him I said them. 
And he was leaning in. Not pulling back. 
I loved him. Right then. I know God made that so. 
All the Unlikely would continue to swirl through and around us, but it was that moment (how could we have known?) that gives me chills even now. 
I am so very grateful for this story, our story, that we live and tell together.

He was born to two parents who loved Jesus.

He grew up the adorable third boy, afraid of nothing.

He climbed his first mountain (Mt Hood) at age 5 and lived a majority of his childhood hours and days outside. He discovered, delved, created and dared over the beautiful forested acreage he grew up surrounded by.

Somewhere along the way he fell in love with Jesus. Not just an obligatory confession of faith, but an actual, “Jesus knows ME!” experience. It happened at a baseball field and involved a dramatic home-run. He was forever changed. Forever known.

He was well acquainted with limits. Because he loved to get right up in their face and push through them.

He dreamed BIG dreams. He never quit.

He learned to seek the Lord where he played. In the forest. Among all the adventure and freedom. He talked to God about whatever. Everything and nothing. Feeling full confidence that he was heard and adored.

He hurt. And fell. But he continued to pull toward the lingering, pervasive calling of his Savior and Friend.

He always had something to say and a story to tell.

He never ceased leading, but was saved in the following.

She was born to two parents who loved Jesus.

She grew up the first born of two girls.

She was cautious and afraid of everything.

Inside was her favorite place. Her sanctuary. She disliked the heat and wind of outside. She had an aversion to bugs and the way dying grass crunched under her feet. She preferred playing with dolls in the sanctity of her own space or reading books for hours on end.

She liked to know what to expect. She liked a plan.

She  followed every rule laid in front of her with obedience and persistence. She understood fully the concepts of right and wrong.

She never knew life without Jesus. She was told that following him was the right thing to do, so she obeyed.

She addressed her Lord as she addressed life—through the rules. She sought to do what He would want her to do. She read, studied and adhered to the regulations and expectations laid out for her by her family and her church community.

She came to know Christ as a trusted and faithful friend, falling more in love with Him as she realized how his gracious presence remained despite any errant choices she made.

She followed obediently to the ends of the earth listening intently to the stories of others, but ultimately she discovered a most astounding freedom that proclaimed in her own leading voice.

They were Unlikely in so many ways. Raised thousands of miles from each other, with completely different histories and communities and memories and friends.

Like dynamite they exploded intense at the counter balance of their strengths. Their early moments together were chock full of intrigue and interest as they discovered another one so completely different from themselves. They admired. And they were inspired.

Africa was decided long before they ever set eyes on each other. And over many long conversations and very many prayers, they turned their gaze together toward a faraway continent and a way bigger than them dream.

But they gazed from very different windows.

The disparate qualities of their home cultures threatened and taught them.  But they did not have a name for it. They just saw everything from a vastly spaced chasm—roles, rules, church, men and women. Life.

There was a constant pull in their conversations and in their decision-making and in their plans.

'Unlikely' was the street named for them. Where they lived. What they were called. How they were critiqued.

From where they were judged.

They realized in time, that this Unlikely was not what pulled them away from each other, but, in fact, was the force that anchored them close.

It wasn’t their own promise that made it so (though this did matter).

It was His promise.

For with God nothing is ever impossible and no word from God shall be without power or impossible of fulfillment. Luke 1:37 AMP

In a country called Uganda, they became Us.

And more than any other hospitality Uganda offered, this was one of the most sacred treasures.   One of the sweetest fruits.

In that third culture-- different from hers, different from his—they started from scratch. Together.

And in that wrenching, glorious transforming Uganda became their Home.

It was mercy that brought them there. Sweet mercy.

And for far more than the initial proclaiming they had in mind.

Their strongest commonality was always the story of Christ. And they moved to Uganda SURE that this was their purpose. To tell His story.

And they did. (They do.)

But they learned, as they spoke His truths, that the most astounding power in His story is how it redeems your own.

For this reason seeing the greatness of this plan by which you are built together in Christ, I bow my knees before the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, For Whom every family in heaven and on earth is named...Ephesians 3:14-15 AMP

And His Redemption radiates brightest in every Unlikely place.

Now to Him Who, by... the [action of His] power that is at work within us, is able to [carry out His purpose and] do superabundantly, far over and above all that we [dare] ask or think [infinitely beyond our highest prayers, desires, thoughts, hopes, or dreams]—Eph 3:20AMP

Their very union required His power.

May He grant you out of the rich treasury of His glory to be strengthened and reinforced with mighty power in the inner man by the [Holy] Spirit [Himself indwelling your innermost being and personality].Eph 3:16AMP

His Love did what they could not.

May Christ through your faith [actually] dwell (settle down, abide, make His permanent home) in your hearts! May you be rooted deep in love and founded securely on love,

That you may have the power and be strong to apprehend and grasp with all the saints [God’s devoted people, the experience of that love] what is the breadth and length and height and depth [of it];

[That you may really come] to know [practically, through experience for yourselves] the love of Christ... Eph 3:17-19

And it was complete.

And I am convinced and sure of this very thing, that He Who began a good work in you will continue until the day of Jesus Christ [right up to the time of His return], developing [that good work] and perfecting and bringing it to full completion in you. Philippians 1:6AMP

They, the Unlikely Ones, are the Declaration.

God is Able.

Some Days Are London

I do not have the privilege of knowing every reader of this blog and so because I write today about marriage and it’s celebration please let me most humbly offer this disclaimer. If, my gracious reader, you arrive at these words today from any place of relational struggle or loss, you matter here. Jeff & I have sacred marital moments that would not read easy, victorious or in any way celebratory. We are marred humans honoring a God who has saved us. Many times. You will find no 'better than' here.

Also.

If you arrive as a brilliant, gorgeous, specifically chosen single then you matter here. And marriage is not, absolutely never, the ONLY way to experience awesomeness. It has been a part of my story, but it is not every story. Your life, beautifully designed, outrageously complete (RIGHT NOW!) is stunning to witness. Please enjoy my story, but this is not something for you to attain to. You have already arrived. You are exquisite as you are currently living.

Just as you are, friends, I am honored to share a portion of your very valuable time and travel alongside a bit. In this company, the company of broken, redeemed ones, nothing is required of you. I pray your current story can find place and encouragement among us.

 Several months ago, my amazing man bought me a ticket to London. Four glorious days with him, alone in our romantic musings accompanied by the stir of a magnificent city’s constant motion.

It was absolutely splendid.

Jeff’s primary aim for our royal excursion was to find my smile and he achieved this objective many different ways. New shoes, amazing food, delicate tea service in dainty cups, fashion museums. He endured all of that with such diligent grace speaking persistently into every next step, “What do YOU want to do? Because that is our very next good thing.”

Four whole days to the tune of Cheryl’s wants and wishes.

What a delightful privilege to be a bit high maintenance. To have my own way accompanied by concession and blessing. 

I didn’t know I needed that so much.

But I did.

And Jeff knew this. I’m so grateful for his persistence.

Because.

He had to talk me into it.

Over an embarrassing number of months, my generous man pitched trips to me in rapid succession with my very responsible ‘reasons why not’ volleying back at him in scripted and well-rehearsed cadence.

He countered that ‘the right time’ was elusive and we should just go. We needed it.

I needed it.

We snuck to nearby havens in the meantime. A night here. An afternoon there.

But Jeff did not relent. When it comes to me, he never does.

Especially when I’m hurting. He will scavenge out relief for me even if I miss the intent for all the practicalities his spontaneous plans require.

Love.

We all speak (and hear) it differently. And sometimes, in the midst of the noise of life, we can land completely tone deaf to the deliberate selection our nearest and dearest exercises for our good every day.

In the simple things, the regular things there can be a melodic accompaniment of care that settles indiscernible against the shiny intrigue of all the other stuff. Whatever the other stuff may be.

Especially when we stumble or hit a deficit in some way, that constant intoning of love can sound far too muted to recall or draw into awareness.

We may need help in the adjusting of all the volume settings in order to draw out that crucial commitment decibel that can become so usual we forget it’s beauty and it’s practice and it’s value.

Sometimes we need to get quiet and alone enough so that we can hear the constant undertones that are necessary for the whole symphony to swell.

Fidelity is costly and precious.

Fragile. Delicate. In need of constant nurture.

So very complex.

That complicated minuet of hearing and speaking, both necessary for the progression of motion. How every out of step stumble and (have mercy!) every gloriously treacherous sprawl accrues understanding and growth. Somehow.

We must keep stepping. Because once the vow has been spoken and God’s hand has silently knit two into one, despite all the irreconcilable we can so easily accumulate, it is a joining that will forever be ours.

Whether we land fractured or bonded together, both outcomes are acknowledged best by the honest acceptance that what has been joined was done despite us. And letting go or holding on will always carry a depth of agony and joy that is far, far beyond our reason and our understanding.

Beyond our ability.

In all the uniting, we are in need.

So graciously exquisite.

On the streets of a majestic city, we remembered and spoke and recalled and celebrated the things that have etched us together.

The moments that have made our history inseparable.

Investing in those days of alone, we remembered our highlights and gave praise for our salvation and vowed again in our attentiveness and response that we will continue to pursue the depths our hearts can love this one person.

This man.

I don’t think I ever really lived without him.

It certainly wasn’t as much fun.

Thank you for London, Jeff Cash.

And thank you for every enduring, choosing day that made London possible.

You make me less afraid.

And that, this, is a miracle beyond comprehension.

 A story I will always love to tell.