Desire [Re]defined

On November 8, 2008, God set me on the most exciting journey that I have ever ventured into.  He has given me the honor and privilege of courting his most beautiful and wonderful daughter, Joycelyne Absolu.  From the beginning, I have struggled to find words to express the depth of emotion that I feel toward her, and how I feel every day when I hear her voice, when I see the way that she looks at me, and as I contemplate her encouraging words toward me… wow.  I feel it now just writing about it.  Joycelyne is Absolutely amazing.  But like every other word that I have ever used to describe her or this experience of courtship, I feel like that was an understatement.  Every day, I find my limited vocabulary being stretched as its words are redefined by this joyous experience.

Before I continue, I want to acknowledge that I know that my readers are probably from one of two opposite camps.  Some of you are praying this will become a sanctified version of a Danielle Steele romance novel, full of juicy details, but for those of you who fear that I might turn into mush right before your eyes, let me assure you that there is a lesson to be learned in this blog.  If you make it to the last few paragraphs, I believe that you will get a little insight on the way that your maker looks at you and desires you.

For a long time I have held this theory about relationships.  I believe that every relationship on earth exists to teach us more about God, and I believe that strong relationship with God, in its various forms and paradigms (i.e. father to son, friend to friend, or lover to lover) will help us to be stronger in our earthly relationships.  I have never known this to be more true than I do now.  I now know that when I am touched by the way that Joycelyne looks at me, I am only feeling a glimpse of what the Lover of my Soul feels when I look toward him with a look that expresses honor, esteem, worth, and desire (See Song of Songs 4:9).

In the last few days, the word “desire” has been redefined for me.  I am currently in Haiti, and communication between Joycelyne & I has been, to say the least, very inconvenient.  I left my cell phone SIM in the U.S., so now I’m borrowing my Dad’s until mine is mailed to me.  Dad had our home land-line fixed, but it has been very inconsistent, working some mornings, or some evenings, but cutting us off very often.  Joycelyne often tries to call me through an international account that I set up in the U.S., but not only is it expensive, but has also proven to be very unreliable.  So, due to all of this, and also due to unreliable electricity, Joycelyne and I had not had a real conversation for nearly a week (up until yesterday afternoon).

I was frustrated.  I checked everything that could be wrong with my internet connection in order to get the home phone working.  I could not do anything to fix it.  Joycelyne tried calling me through my International Account since it is cheaper for her to call me… but she couldn’t get through.  Last night, Dad told me about a special that Haitel has on international calls.  This morning I found out that his Haitel phone was not working.  Everything was against me.  The two-and-a-half day electric blackout was the final blow, cutting off even email.

Frustration wasn’t the only emotion that I felt as I dealt with this issue all week, nor was it the strongest.  The most prominent was a familiar one, yet much stronger than I’ve ever felt before.  It was desire.  I just wanted to hear her voice.  I just wanted to encourage her in her work.  I wanted to pray with her.  I wanted to see her smile and know that she was happy.  I wanted to see her eyes one more time.  But I couldn’t, no matter how much I wanted to.

God spoke to me one morning as I was inspecting a cable that connects us to the internet, already “knowing” in my heart that my efforts were in vain.  (I was guilty of cutting my quiet time short in order to check into this problem, hoping I could talk to Joycelyne before she went to work.)  He said to me, with a hint of jealousy in his voice, “I wish you would try this hard to connect to me when it feels impossible.  Even more than you want time with her, I want time with you.”

I was floored by the thought of it.  My head started spinning with thoughts.  I had seen a glimpse of what Joycelyne was experiencing on her end through our little conversation snippets.  She was also trying everything that she could to connect to me, and probably also wondering what I was doing to connect to her.  Did I miss her like she missed me?  Had this disconnection negatively affected the way that I feel toward her?  She had no way of knowing what I was thinking or feeling.

Have you ever felt like you can’t connect to God?  You’ve done everything that you know to do, but you just can’t get through to him.  You wonder what he’s thinking of you.  Does he miss “the good times” as much as you do?  Maybe he doesn’t even care that you are trying to get through to him.  Maybe you should just stop trying.

DON’T STOP!  I can guarantee you that God is doing all that he can to fix the lines of communication so that he can have sweet communion with you again.  He desires to hear your voice even more than you desire to be heard.  He desires to speak to you even more than you want to hear him.  We may not understand the thing that stands between us and God and what happens to make it hard to communicate with him at times, but if courtship can be likened in any way to our relationship with God, then I can guarantee you that God awaits a breakthrough in communication with deeper longing and desire than you do.  Keep pressing into him.  One day you’ll get through, satisfying your heart and His very own desire.

To All You Long-Haired Babymakers

Thought that might get your attention… Hopefully for long enough to read this whole, superlong blog. This message is for everyone, but in honor of women, past, present, and future mothers. I hope you quickly realize that my tasteless title is just a bit more of my strange humor.

PART 1
I had a conversation with a ladyfriend of mine recently, and some of the points that we hit still remain on my mind. The main topic of the conversation was gender roles in modern society. What makes a man/woman? What is a manly/womanly act? Long story short, we decided that being a real man or a real woman (especially in a relationship sense, where gender roles tend to be more defined) is not about performing a list of actions; its more about your attitude, your motivations, and the way you carry yourself as you act. Society has changed, and what we do for each other has also changed. And that’s okay.

Living in Haiti for the past 5 months has opened my eyes to many things. One thing I see is that keeping a home is quite easily a fulltime job. Forget the microwave age. To get breakfast, you start at 4:30 or 5am. Its usually something simple, but lunch is another affair. If you don’t have a cistern at home, you go down the street to draw water; enough for a day (buckets and buckets). Since you can’t be sure if you’ll have power for your fridge, you go to the market daily to buy everything you’re gonna eat. Then you kill and pluck the chicken in your own kitchen. Even some of the spices you crush and grind yourself. There is little break between finishing breakfast and beginning lunch. And in the middle of all that, the house needs to be cleaned. To wash clothes, again you go down the street.

My dad is a very busy man. He has lived in Haiti without a wife for more than 13 years. If there was no one to help around the house all of the work that he does would be impossible. (For that reason, we hire someone to help with such things. Otherwise we’d starve or live in a filthy house. Or not be pastors and school directors…) All of this reminds me why someone in the household needed to be a “stay-at-home” back in the day. And seeing the kind of work that is readily available here, I can understand why that would be a stay-at-home mom. Seeing that the children tend to be the ones that help with household errands (going for water, buying in the market) it is also obvious to me why the mom (at home) does most of the childraising.

But things (in the U.S.) have changed. Cooking is faster, cleaning is faster, every job associated with the household is faster and easier. And anyone with a little bit of time can do it. I’ve been learning from interactions with my female contemporaries that I just might be the one that cooks most of the time, and that’s okay with me because I like being in the kitchen.

But there’s one thing that I don’t think I will ever compromise on: a child needs to be raised by his or her parents. Not a nanny, not a baby-sitter, and especially not the day care tv set. I know that things in the U.S. are not always easily set up that way (especially in the ghetto or with divorce and single-parenthood on the rise), but if at all possible, someone should be with the child at all times for at least the first few years of his or her life. I’m not saying who should be home, I’m just saying it should be someone in the immediate family (siblings who are much older can count if they are only temporary/seasonal caregivers—worked at my house, except for the many revolts, uprisings and coup d’etats against the tyrant, Weguens–just kidding:-)). One thing that we all have to realize is that whether you are father, mother, sister, or brother, a new baby WILL change your life. (I think that Dads need that newsbreak the most). We all have to be ready to do our part, and make our own sacrifices, but someone usually makes more sacrifices than the rest. That person is usually the mother. After all, she is the young tot’s lunchbox… (Unless you use pumps and stuff and give it to the Dad or the nanny in a bottle).

But why do we argue on this issue? In fact, when such a suggestion is raised, it often causes people to go up in arms about how women can work too. (remember, i didn’t say who should be at home, so don’t shoot me–some of you are thinking about it). I’m all for women working. And yes, the Bible is all for women working too (check Proverbs 31). But here’s the more important question: since when was raising children such an unimportant job?

Really? Have you ever thought about it? Sure its great to be able to provide for a family through working outside, but where would the family be without disciplined children with morals and character? In ancient times, everything that a man would do would be for the sake of his children. He worked hard to see that, when he died, his line would always thrive. His children were his sense of eternal life. (double-check the way that the Bible puts emphasis on the importance of children, generational blessings, and inheritance). Today, children become a hindrance to work rather than the reason for work. There is something seriously wrong with that. When you think about it, there is no job more important than raising children. To be cliche yet very earnest, childcaregivers are the shapers of tomorrow itself. There is no amount of salary that can pose as a worthy payment. Perhaps if we gave this job its proper importance, mother’s wouldn’t be underappreciated. Go thank a mother today. See everything around you, it was really people like her that built it. See anything that needs fixing? Go back a little further and you’ll probably find someone that needed a mother.

PART 2
We men probably didn’t help the image of motherhood. For centuries, we’ve liked to emphasize Ephesians 5:22, which says “wives submit to your husbands, as to the Lord.” Rather than letting that mean give your husbands their due respect, it has come to mean, in many circles, slave over your husband’s every whim…. especially in the home. If only we could read a few verses later where it says “Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” I don’t know about you fellas, but that’s a pretty tough one. Maybe that’s why we’ve ignored it. Sounds like there is something that we should do to be worthy of being submitted to.

When I think about it, there is no relationship that can be more beautiful. In an exhortation to an engaged couple, I heard a man say that the secret to a wife getting whatever she wants is submission. It sounds a little backwards, but there’s a lot of truth to it. As a man, I know that there is nothing like winning the respect of a woman who you are close to (I’d say “a woman you love,” but I don’t see any gold on my ring finger any time soon). When you win that respect, if you are a good man and you truly love her, you won’t use it to take advantage of her. You will do anything you can to keep that respect. In your mind there is an instant response. “She thinks so highly of me… I’m not really that good am I? I have to try harder to please her and be the man worthy of such respect. She’s so wonderful and she has to be mine forever. What can I do for her to show her that she is worth everything to me?” Suddenly, without realizing it, you are ready to lay down your life for her.

Sounding familiar, right…?

Of course I can’t tell it from a woman’s perspective, but I could imagine (from my relationship with Christ), it is easy to submit to someone who is ready to lay down his life for you. Looking for a way to show you what you are worth, he can find nothing that is enough… so he is ready to give up what is most precious to him to at least try to come close. What wouldn’t you do for such a man? It’s such a beautifully designed relationship… it fuels itself. Respect fuels sacrificial love, while sacrificial love fuels respect. Like God, such love is eternal. Unfortunately (more for me than for you), I am not married, so I can’t really give you the inside scoop on that process, nor the hard work involved. If you are married and reading this, feel free to comment and let the rest of us know. As for me, I’ll get back to you when my left hand gets some bling-age.

So in summary: women of the centuries, women of today, you are appreciated. One day I hope to look around and say in my heart, “Wow, there’s nothing I wouldn’t give to show that one what she is worth.” When I do, I’ll walk right up to her and ask her…

“Will you be my babymaker?” hahaha, just kidding.