Blogging

Posted on by
Reply

I began blogging back in 2004. Without any introduction, prefacing remarks, or words of explanation, I jumped right in with this as my first post:

Save Marriage!! Defend Marriage!!

If I get one more hysterical email about saving marriage, I think I’m going to scream. Mind you, I have nothing against marriage. I have nothing against saving or defending marriage. In fact, I’m all for it. And I’m old-fashioned enough to think that marriage, by definition, is between one man and one woman.

But I’m growing weary of the current hysteria.

I’ll know that the marriage-saving enthusiasts are truly serious about saving actual marriages when they begin to turn their energies to the following real problems that are threatening and destroying real marriages:

1. Pornography. I’m sure I’m not alone in knowing a number of marriages that have been damaged and destroyed by this blight.

2. Spousal abuse. Just recently, yet another aquaintance’s marriage dissolved as a result of ongoing abuse at the hands of her husband. At least she survived. She’s just one among many, many women I know who have tried for years to make an abusive marriage “work”.

3. Lack of good teaching about marriage—more talk about unity, self-sacrifice, friendship, and love, please, and less about the husband ruling the roost.

When I get some emails expressing alarm about the very real issues that I see destroying the marriages around me, then maybe I’ll join one of these campaigns to save and defend marriages.

At the end, it said:

Thus wrote Rebecca at 5/26/2004 07:04:00 PM

I had some idea that I was going to blog semi-anonymous, but that didn’t work for very long.

It’s interesting to revisit this post a decade later, especially since I’m planning some upcoming posts about marriage. I still think much of the Church gets a lot of things wrong about marriage, but I’m encouraged to see progress being made.

Today is a special day

Posted on by
Reply

I posted this on Facebook also:

Does God actually speak to us? And, if so, how? Depending on whom you ask, the answers vary widely. But this is what I know…

It was July 9, 1986. A very ordinary day. The only reason that I know the date is because I wrote a note on an index card, which I saved and have in front of me right now. I remember that it was about mid-morning, and I was washing dishes. Our oldest son was almost 11 months old.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I had this crazy, overwhelming thought, kind of a mental picture, and I couldn’t get it out of my head. It made no sense, yet was so strong and persistent that I felt compelled to run part of it by my husband and then write it down…just in case I would someday want to remember.

Here is part of what I jotted down: “Thought of name ‘Isaac Lawrence’ for next son…For some reason I feel strongly about the name.” I wrote that I thought he would be “born at home, and welcomed at birth with much joy and laughter.”

That last part seemed especially crazy. Matthew had been born by c-section. A home birth, at the time, seemed out of the question.

I also wrote about this “Isaac Lawrence Prewett”, who I was convinced would be our second son: “I long for him. Perhaps God has given me this desire that I might begin praying for him now.”

Our next child was our sweet Miriam, born by c-section after an attempted home birth. By the time I was pregnant after that, I thought I had the baby-gender-guessing thing down pat and was so convinced that I was carrying a girl that I almost didn’t bother getting out any non-girly clothes for the baby.

It was March 19, 1990, one of the most amazing, memorable days of my life. I took one look at my new son, just born in our living room, and laughed as if the most hilarious practical joke had been played on me. In that moment, I remembered…and I knew.

“This is Isaac!” I announced joyfully to my husband, who had no idea what I was talking about. And then…well, things suddenly got dramatic. The son I recognized as the one God had promised me had to be rushed to the hospital and, later that night, I wondered if his name held a more bitter meaning: was God asking me to give back my Isaac? Was his name less about laughter and more about sacrifice?

Our Isaac survived. In fact, he thrived. He’s our “miracle baby”, grown into a strong, intelligent, handsome man. Today I celebrate the birth of a wonderful son, the fulfillment of a promise, and a God who still speaks and answers prayer.

Happy birthday, Isaac!

I was wrong

Posted on by
Reply

It turns out I was wrong — not about everything, but about a lot of things. Chances are, if you’ve read anything I wrote in the past, some of what you read was, to put it gently, flat out bone-headedly wrong. I could probably spend the rest of my life trying to retract and correct everything I said, did, or wrote in the past that I now see differently, but I doubt it would be worth the effort. Besides, do I really want to revisit my misguided notions from yesteryear?

I’d like to think that I’ve matured, that I’ve worked through some stuff, and learned some valuable lessons along the way. By the grace of God, that’s true. But I’ve hardly arrived. Twenty years from now, I’ll probably look back and marvel at how clueless I still was in 2014.

Come to think of it, that’s a good thing. Who wants to be in the same place, with the same ideas and understanding, that they were twenty years ago? Aren’t we supposed to mature?

If you consider yourself a Christian and you’ve walked with God for more than a decade, and you haven’t had your faith and beliefs put to the test — if you haven’t endured trials and suffering, faced sorrow and disappointment, been hurt or wounded by people you trust, experienced loss and grief — if you haven’t had your life shaken up enough to force you to grow and mature and change, then I have one question for you: are you really sure you have been walking with Christ all this time? Actually I have another question as well: don’t you think it’s time you stopped stagnating and started really living — and don’t you think it’s time you let Christ actually make a difference in your life? (OK, that was a third question. I got carried away.)

Lest anyone get the wrong idea, I need to hasten with a disclaimer: growth and change isn’t necessarily the result of a continuos and close walk with God. He is, after all, the One Who came up with the idea of grace. He is a pursuer of prodigals, but He doesn’t force Himself on us.

We are either growing and changing, or we’re dead.

So, yeah…I was wrong about all sorts of stuff, and I have not yet reached a state of infallibility, nor do I expect to. God is still at work, refining me and purifying me, correcting me, and setting me straight.

And that’s a good thing…a very good thing. I wouldn’t have it any other way. (Not that I don’t balk at times, but that’s another story!)