Two weeks after Eamon and I got married we had "family dinner" at our apartment with about a dozen of our friends. It was great to have our new friends in our new place
soak up the awesomeness of our perfect new love over for a meal.
Then a funny thing happened. A few of my girlfriends came into our room and plopped down onto
my our bed in the traditional "SO. Tell us AAAAAALLLL about it" manner. I could feel the eyes pop out of my head, they were nearly dangling out of my sockets.
"PLEASE DON'T SIT ON OUR BED!" I vomited up to very surprised stares.
"I mean you can sit anywhere else" I said gesturing around the room with only a vanity and....nothing else "just not there. That's just...ours. You know?"
Now, if I had been more practical about this whole bed thing, I could have pushed them off of my bed in a far more humorous manner "So, out of the last 14 days, we've spent 10 of them in that bed and don't own a washer and dryer, AYO!" But no, I took the creepy, "sacred marriage bed" stance. It is possible this is why I have such a hard time making friends...
This morning I was cuddling with this hunk of adorableness and reflecting on the role our bed has had in our family. Even though the mattress has changed a few times, Eamon and I became husband in wife in our bed, we made life changing decisions in our bed. While there have been many a shout of praise (went there) there have been soul ripping pleas for grace and direction from our bed. We have made and grew three beautiful baby girls in our bed, and welcomed two of them at the foot of it. We have wept silently over loss in our bed. We have tossed and turned in worry and anticipation, only to thank the Lord for provision the next night in our bed. We have fought in our bed, made up in our bed. And there are times we've been so worn out, that all we can do is lay in our bed, and let Jesus meet us there.
My pastor reminds us almost weekly that we shouldn't have to go back 15 years to tell our testimony. Maybe the story of how we came to Jesus, yes, but our testimony should be alive- What is Jesus doing in your life RIGHT. NOW. Sometimes I feel like we, as Christians, treat our testimonies like I treated my bed in those first weeks of marriage. We like to talk about the beautiful ceremony that was the wedding, but we are full of pride thinking that there is something sacred, unshareable (awesome word I just made up, you're welcome)
, too good to talk about, or maybe even too shameful to speak of.
This morning, as the sun was coming up over the building in front of us, and Phoebe was scooting around in all her chubby glory, I saw Jesus in my bed. Saw Him there smiling as we welcomed Lily & Norah, saw His broken heart the nights Eamon and I went to bed angry, saw His patience as we were begging for the many answers that He had already given us; and I prayed that just as we've multiplied our family, our love, in our bed through our trials and joy, that we would grow Jesus' disciples through our testimony in our home and out in the world.
Happy Tuesday, Y'all