If Not, We . . .
My husband said a lot
of sweet words
(and some unsweet words,
as did I – let’s just be honest)
over the course of our dating years
and days as husband and wife.
One of the sweetest things
he ever said to me, though,
was when we were still dating.
Trying to be hospitable,
me and my
not-anything-to-impress anyone with
cooking skills
had invited my new love
over for a meal.
In an attempt to make the perfect meal,
I had made one of the few meals
I felt confident making.
When the doorbell rang,
everything was “just right”.
Until . . .
I opened the door
to greet my dinner date,
and he handed me a bag full
of ears of fresh corn.
And as silly and as embarrassing
as this is to admit,
I had never cooked fresh corn.
I froze.
I panicked.
I (sigh) started to cry.
Honestly, looking back now,
it’s a wonder he didn’t
turn around and walk away
right then and there.
Thank God he stayed.
And, thank God
for what this man
said next.
“What’s wrong?
Why are you crying?”
“I’ve never cooked corn before.
What if I ruin it?”
He laughed –
not a laughing at you
kind of laugh,
but a
“oh – is that all that is worrying you”
relieved kind of laugh.
“Oh, baby –
it’s so easy.
All you have to do
is boil it.”
“But, what if
I don’t boil it long enough?”
Wiping my tears,
he looked me
right in the eyes and said,
“It’ll be ok.
If not, we’ll just
boil it some more.”
I know –
you were expecting to read
some really “sweet words” here.
But to me,
hearing this man say,
“if not – we’ll just“
were the most loving words
my heart had ever heard.
They took my love for this man
to a whole new level.
And I soon learned,
this “if not, we’ll just”
attitude of his
wasn’t just limited
to cooking a pot of corn.
One day while he was at work,
I decided to go over and
surprise tidy-up his home for him.
It was mid-summer.
I didn’t turn on his air conditioner, though,
because the night before he had mentioned
it wasn’t working quite right.
When he got home
and discovered me
working away in his hot home,
naturally, (and in disbelief!)
he asked why I hadn’t turned on the AC.
“I didn’t want to burn up the motor.”
“Oh, baby –
the motor doesn’t matter.
You matter.
You wouldn’t burn it up,
but if you did,
we’d just get a new one.”
Now,
I was the one
standing there
in disbelief.
What love was this?
A love that didn’t
get upset,
hold it against you,
or think things
(like corn or motors)
were more important?
I soon discovered
this man
loved like Jesus.
He showed
grace,
forgiveness,
mercy,
kindness
and a love
that loved me –
me! –
in spite of me,
flaws, idiosyncrasies, and all.
And you know what?
Those sweet, sweet words –
“if not, we’ll just”
released me from the fear of
failure and messing up,
to walk in a new freedom
to try,
to grow,
to branch out,
to believe I could.
His love and grace
set me free
to be me.
And sweeter even still
than the words of my man
are the words of my God.
“My dear children, I am writing this to you so that you will not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate who pleads our case before the Father. He is Jesus Christ, the one who is truly righteous.”~1 John 2:1
Just like I longed to do right
for the man I loved,
I long to do right
for my God.
I long to be holy as He is holy.
I don’t want to sin.
I don’t want to disappoint Him.
I don’t want to break His heart.
And, with the Spirit’s help,
I try my best not to –
but if I do –
how beautiful to know
He’s still there.
He doesn’t leave.
When I confess,
He gives
grace,
forgiveness,
mercy,
kindness
and a love
that loves me –
me! –
in spite of me,
flaws, sins, and all.
And you know what?
Those sweet, sweet words –
“if not, we have advocate”
release me from the fear of
failure and messing up,
to walk in a new freedom
to keep pleasing Him,
to keep loving Him,
to keep answering His call,
to keep running to Him,
to keep trying to be like Him.
His love and grace
set me free
to be me –
the me He created me to be.
“if not, we . . .”
Is it any wonder
this girl said “I do”
not only to my man,
but also to the Jesus he loved?
To be truly loved –
what a precious, precious gift.
I am so blessed.
And if you have Jesus,
so are you.
~Stacy
