7 Ways to Effectively Pursue Your Valentine

I was struggling, pounding it out about a mile and a half in. Sweat stinging my eyes and concrete blocks for feet. My short snatches of breath weren’t cutting it, and then the worst of the worst happened on a difficult run…a slow song came up on the playlist.  NOOOOOOOO! I love me some “Free” by Zac Brown, but just NOOOOOOOOOO! I had been meaning to edit the playlist but only remembered that tidbit in this very situation. Where was my Jerry Reed with some “East Bound and Down”? Or Ed with “Sing”? Though I hate to expend any energy on music wrangling while running, this was an emergent circumstance. When I looked down to scroll through the playlist, I had received a text from the hubs. And a big ‘ole ginormous smile broke out across my red splotchy face…he sent me flowers WHILE I was running. And, of course, I screenshot it because that was the coolest thing ever. And, of course, I went on to beast the rest of my run…maybe…

The past three years have been the most difficult of our sixteen year marriage; if you’re married long enough the hard years come. I know…I thought we were different too. But we aren’t. We spent most of last year in counseling, and you’ll never find greater advocates for marriage counseling than these two Cawthons right here. It may seem a little late in the game, but we learned how to love each other well. Primarily by loving Jesus more.

During this season, Chris and I have spent a lot of time studying how God loves, how he pursues, how he forgives, how he extends grace, and with his help we’re applying that to our relationship the best two jacked-up people know how to do. So, in the interest of saving you $100, some couch time, and a box of Kleenex, here’s what I’ve learned about how I (and I think it’s safe to generalize to most gals – single or married) want to be pursued.

A girl wants to be pursued…

1) With beauty. Think about how God dazzles by the ocean, with a sunset, in the mountains, through the warmth of sunshine. We are inherently wired to respond to beauty in a positive way, so intentionally add some beauty to the mix.

2) With purity. God never pursues our hearts because he wants anything from us. A woman has a sensitive radar for motives. If we ever feel “buttered up” as part of a goal – sex or any other ambition -your efforts are counterproductive. They make us feel cheap not cherished.

3) By a leader. God is the example of a strong, powerful, selfless “man” who leads with love. And, men, you need to know that a woman’s heart hungers to be led well. As John and Stasi Eldredge correctly assert in Captivating, even strong women don’t fear a man’s strength if she is confident he is a good man. According to little ole’ me, a man desiring to pursue as a leader must be pursuing Jesus at least as much or more than his lady is. I can get under that leadership all day long.

4) Personally. God doesn’t go after your heart in the same way he goes after mine. He knows me perfectly and he knows you perfectly, and he displays that by how he gets our attention. Driving the Jeep, with the top down and doors off, on a summer night, he woos me with a clear sky populated with stars aplenty and a big, bright moon. He may stir your affections for himself in a completely different way. Effective pursuit demonstrates how well you know your person, and we can just make peace with the fact…DETAILS MATTER.

5) Creatively. God employs an endless repertoire of creative pursuit.  He’s not the God of rut and routine, just look at the variety in everything he ever created. We can all feel challenged by his lead to love more creatively.

6) With security. Dudes, you can never overestimate the importance of emotional and physical safety to a woman. Throughout Scripture, God clearly identifies himself as our safe place. A woman looks for security in a relationship and assurance that she can let her guard down and not be intentionally hurt.

7) Extravagantly. God is clearly the master of grand gestures. So when I think of extravagant pursuit, I’m not at all talking about dollars. I’m talking about throwing the tried and trues out the window and going with a risky BIG idea. For instance, a picnic on the beach at sunset is extravagant to me…while costing less than dinner and a movie.

So, with Valentine’s Day about a week out, ladies in the house, agree or disagree? And, fellas, what should we know about how to be “caught” and how to love our guys well? I can’t wait to hear your perspective!

Passing the Baton…

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Hey there! I’m super excited to have an article about grace on the NewSpring blog today, so I’m gonna pass the baton to you. Run over there (Two Ways We Mishandle Grace), check it out, and then pass it along to everybody under the sun. 🙂 Thanks for reading, and have the best day!

How would you rate God’s customer service?

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As I lounged in my comfy clothes, ordering groceries online, legs outstretched on the coffee table, my frustration mounted.  Many of the items 0n my master list were no longer available – replaced by inferior brands or completely unavailable.”What is this injustice? What do you mean you don’t have Gevalia Colombia K-cups?” I queried and shook my fists in the air. Still quite satisfied with the fact that grocery shopping did not require me to be presentable, I triple-checked my cart and reserved my timeslot for pick-up. Once I retrieved and began to unpack my groceries, I wasn’t particularly jazzed with the selection of produce or meats. “What is this injustice?” I queried and shook my fists in the air. This was not my normal experience. I had used this service at my favorite grocery store for years. And then…a few days later a customer survey landed in my inbox.

I’m not the customer-service-survey type. I don’t send my food back when it’s not good; I don’t complain about bad service; that’s just not my bag. And it’s not because I’m conflict-averse; I’m actually a proponent of necessary difficult conversations.  My beef with giving feedback is that people ask for it but rarely want it. The passive aggressiveness of that annoys me to no end, but that’s a rant for another post…

But on this occasion – and because I genuinely love buying my groceries online and wanted to improve the service – I completed the survey. I mentioned the two areas of my dissatisfaction, sent it off to the mythical grocery store chain headquarters in the sky, quite pleased with myself for speaking into the process. Until I walked into the store the next time and the manager, who also lives in my neighborhood, graciously thanked me for my input.

Gah. Awkward.

The only other times I can remember giving customer feedback was at Chick-Fil-A because I was guaranteed a free sandwich and at the gym. A few years back, I emailed the head honcho gym guy to request that E! not be a channel option on the TVs. I’m not an E! hater or anything, but I didn’t think any of us needed to be subjected to blurred out Kardashian body parts while working out. And that’s my feedback resume. Over the course of all my years, I have made my voice heard in the service sector only three times.

Whether we frequently give feedback or rarely, we are conditioned to assess experiences in those terms – even if just internally: How long did we have to wait? How was the service? Were we blown away by the product? Did anything diminish our experience? How were we treated by the staff?

There’s nothing inherently wrong with that line of thought. Unless we allow it to leak in and saturate our relationship with God. We can be assured that He always wants our honesty, so we can pray about anything. But when we begin to approach him from a consumer’s paradigm. When we begin to score Him on how long we’ve been waiting.  When we begin to complain about the “service” we’re receiving or how our difficult circumstances are diminishing our enjoyment of him, we are operating out of an entitled heart. And it’s a sure sign we’ve gotten way too big for our britches…

We are not God’s patrons; he does not owe us because we are faithful subscribers. He is not threatened that we’ll go elsewhere if we aren’t satisfied.  He is the Creator of the whole stinkin’ universe, and we are wise to humble ourselves as we see in Jeremiah 18:1-6. We are not his customers; we are his creation. And sometimes – at least personally, I can stand to go a lot bigger on worship and at a lot less on whiny.

So, when I find myself asking with scrunched face, “What is this injustice?” as I shake my fists in the air, he faithfully reminds me he’s no short order cook who fulfills my demands. He is the one who placed the mole above the right corner of my lip. He’s the one who chose thick brown hair and short stubby toes for me, long before I drew air into my lungs and expelled it with a wail. With his very own Father hands, he made me. Knew me and loved me. And then He gently whispers, “Let’s be clear. I am your Father, the Creator of all your eyes can see. I am not your service provider, dear one. Now let’s proceed accordingly.”

Why does God promise to give us what we want? And then he doesn’t…

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.  Luxury German cars and holidays in Great Britain. Daily massages and living like kings. These are a few of my favorite things.

High maintenance much? Agreed, my appetites tend to run towards the indulgent and costly. I know, I know…the shiny of these things offers only fleeting enjoyment. But I can get into a thick dose of temporary comfort on occasion.

Admittedly, I like nice things. I also like less frivolous things like peace. Fulfillment, laughter, adventure, and friendship.  Real conversations with my girls, silliness with my husband, and opportunities to share Jesus.

So what does a greedy “wanter” like me do with Bible verses like Psalm 37:4 [single eyebrow raised in intrigue]?

Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

He straight-up promises to give us what we want.  But really…how does that work?  Because I keep an ever-growing Note on my phone. Are we talking an Amazon Wish List here? This is genuinely a question I’ve grappled with as a believer. We love Jesus; we go to church almost every Sunday. We spend time reading our Bibles and praying each day. We’re doing everything we know to do to grow in our relationship with God; so how do we tap into receiving the desires of our hearts? A husband or a wife. A baby. A promotion. An opportunity in ministry. A larger house. That trip to Hawaii…

What does it mean when we’re checking all the boxes for being a good Christian and we aren’t receiving the desires of our hearts?  What do we do with God’s promise then?  Do we – even if in the most remote corner of the cellar of our hearts – decide we can’t believe him?

I was baffled.  Because people don’t just get what they ask for. Why would God promise that when it’s clearly not true?

And then I began to understand a little more about what it means to delight in the Lord.  It’s really not at all about doing the right things. We can’t “do” our way to delight. Obligation strangles delight; they are not friends. Delight is characterized by natural enjoyment. It’s every bit about having a heart for him. About sincerely digging time with him and wanting more of it. And when we do, he will give us what we want OR change what we want so he can give it to us. When my heart is engaged with his, he has access to change my heart to be more like his. So if I am praying for another international speaking opportunity (I spoke at a women’s conference in Germany in 2013) and that doesn’t line up with what he has in mind, through our time together he will reshape my desires to run consistent with his plans. At which point he can completely grant the desires of my heart.

And then. Through the darkest season of my life, he gave me an even truer insight into this verse.  When I truly – like “I cannot get enough of you” – delight in God, HE BECOMES THE DESIRE OF MY HEART.  I just want more of him. That’s it. I want to see him more and hear him more and know him more and love him more.  And I can ask for more and more and more of him and he can give it.  All day, every day. I can ask and I will receive.

So.  As the queen of wanting more (i.e., chocolate chip cookies, sleep, coffee, shoes…), I find that I can have as much of him as I want. I can be a greedy “wanter” of Jesus, and he’s more than okay with that.

Okay, God, let’s say…hypothetically….I want a black Mercedes SUV (exactly like the one pictured above – cough, cough)… 

The very real danger of buying pajamas too small…

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It was one of those nights you’re just glad no one can see what happens inside your house when the blinds are closed and you and your sweet family lose your dang minds.  My nine year-old certifiably flipped her lid.  It began with whining.  It escalated to yelling. She then stepped it up to screaming with tears as every staple, stitch, and cell that held her together shot out like lethal ammunition at high rates of speed, many of them intentionally aimed in my direction.  She completely disassembled before my eyes over footie pajamas.

It all began innocently enough. The next day was Pajama Day at school.  Well, since we wear our pj’s until they are capris with well ventilated wrists and forearms, we cannot participate in the recent trend of wearing them to the mall.  While I feel like I am supposed to be galled by the imprudence of folks wearing their fuzzy smiley face pajama pants in public, I tend to – in the inmost parts of my soul – call it a stroke of brilliance.  We had to make a purchase.  My Campbell is not a shopper, so I braced myself for the frustration of pushing my big red shopping cart through the narrow maze of girls’ clothing at Target.  To my immediate delight, Sweet Stuff found three pairs of pajamas she liked right away.  One of those being a onesie with feet.  SHE LOVED THEM!  When we arrived at home, she gladly bathed and washed her hair – without any coaxing – so she could put on her new most favorite pajamas.  She was tickled.  She came out to twirl around for me; at which point I noticed that the sleeves were three-quarter length sleeves and the neckline was pulled taut.

They were clearly too small.

She has the waist of a six year-old, the height of an eight-year old and she’s almost ten.  My size guessing had been off, and she did not have the elasticity that night to handle a verdict of, “I’ll exchange them tomorrow.”

Pink fuzzy cheetah print never looked so vicious.  Wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued.  My insistence that we were not keeping too small pajamas elicited, “You’re just being mean!”

She groveled, “Please let me keep them!”

No.

Then she began to bargain…”Can I just sleep in them tonight before you return them.”

No.

She got creative, “I’ll pay you for them, so I can keep them.”

No.

And then she whined desperately, “Can I pay you to just let me sleep in them tonight before you exchange them?”

NO!  NO!  NO!  YOU ARE NOT KEEPING PAJAMAS THAT ARE TOO SMALL!  YOU ARE NOT SLEEPING IN THEM TONIGHT!  YOU CAN WAIT ONE DAY FOR ME TO EXCHANGE THEM!

I yelled.  I reciprocated her insanity and totally lost it.

As we piled in the truck to collect her sister from church, I asked her not to speak to me.  To give me a break.  We rode in silence and after about ten minutes we quietly began to discuss the unfinished homework that needed completing.  We both handled each other with care as our anger was now tempered by regret and breathing room.  We finished out the night without additional fireworks and were even able to poke fun at the hysterics of each other as we recounted the festivities to sister.

After the girls were in bed, I moved slowly about the kitchen – readying breakfast, packing lunches, filling water bottles, washing a few remaining dishes, and I saw myself in her.  I saw how determined I can be to have my way.  Despite reason.  Despite what is best for me.  I whine; I get angry.  I pout; I bargain.  I scream.  I yell, “You’re just being mean!”  Yet God is undeterred by my tantrums.  He will not compromise what is best to pacify.  He is a good, good father.  The best.  And I am so grateful he doesn’t allow me to settle for too small pajamas.