... That they both are satisfied
    Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs
    If there's no one beside you
    When your soul embarks
    Then I will follow you into the dark

[I Will Follow You Into The Dark, Death Cab For Cutie]

I obviously don't agree with the theology of this song, what with the ideas of how one ends up in heaven and hell and if we can decide to just follow loved ones to either place (I'm pretty sure Jesus has something to say about that), but I do like the sentiment.

I realized, sitting here on Christmas Eve Eve and pre-writing some blog posts, that I've been on a sweet husband kick.  Not that there's anything wrong with that- I love my husband!  Even though, to be quite honest, last night I was so mad at him that I slammed the bedroom door and then threw his bottle of lotion (his poor hands get HORRIBLY cracked in this winter weather when he has to work outside, you know, his whole pool job... good thing that job ends with the coming of February... bummer that the Lord hasn't seen fit to allow Jas to find another job yet... faith is stretching believe you me.) at said bedroom door, breaking the cap in the process.  I can say, though, that he honestly did nothing wrong in that one- he just asked me a question, and it hit a scary-anger button and I just really wanted to throw things.  I've only had that anger hit me three times in our marriage, and twice in this last week.

I hate that I am admitting this, but I don't want anyone to get the idea that my life is purely perfect marital bliss.

To be honest, sometimes Jason's an asshat.

Sometimes I'm a complete bitchazoid.

The deal is, sinner + sinner = well... lots and lots of sin.

The good news is there's always plenty for Jesus to redeem ;)

Needless to say, I have a lot of maturing to do.  My dad was a very angry man when I was a child / teen, and sometimes I would literally sit on my bed and seethe in hatred, vowing to never be like him.  You know, that whole self-righteous bit.  I had some rather unpleasant corporal punishment- spankings when I was a kid and then a few what my family called "bitch slaps" when I was a teen- but I don't remember my dad ever throwing things.  So... while I don't hit people, my angry heart seeking to destroy is, at it's core, no different.  You can argue that a broken lotion cap is a different thing from a child's wounded soul, and you'd be right, but the perpetrator will still face judgment for sin in either case and, compared to Jesus, neither comes out looking so good.

What's amazing is that time, distance, and I'm pretty sure some anti-depressants have done a lot of repair to my relationship with my dad.  I've grown up, gained wisdom, and while his actions weren't ok, I understand him better.  I'm able to focus on why he's so angry- it's not my story to tell, and as long as he's alive I wouldn't dare divulge it via blog, but trust me when I tell you that if you think of a person you actually know who has had an absolutely shitty life (I'm sorry if that word offends... I'll go on a mini-rant about that later) my dad's was as bad, if not worse.  He was really just set up to be an angry and bitter man, and instead of hating him I feel a lot more compassion.  I see the deep, deep scars and pain that turn a happy and innocent kid into an adult who suppresses everything and trusts no one.

What's amazing to me is that, for as much as our relationship has changed for the better (I'm also not so much of a snotty brat like I was in my teens-no, really-- I used to be even worse than I am now!) I can only try to imagine what it will be like when- when, because I am trusting Christ- he meets Jesus and we can have true reconciliation.  It's a lot to get into, but there is no such thing as true reconciliation unless both sides know and love Jesus and surrender their need for judgment of the one(s) who offended them to Christ.  We aren't there, because while I adore my dad, he doesn't know Christ.  I look forward to the day when he does.

I can't imagine what it will be like for him, to have those wounds healed with the blood of Christ and he can know freedom in Christ.

I get teary eyed thinking about it.

I'll share my quick mini-rant:

Sometimes I use colorful words, cuss or curse words, if you will.  Increasingly, in fact.

I know that some would find this highly offensive, and I never want to offend people and hinder the gospel.

That said, I have thought about this a lot lately, and Christians tend to use this verse, and ones like it, as the reason to not use cuss words:

Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person. [Colossians 4:6]

The thing is... no where in the Bible will you find, "Thou shalt not drop F-bombs, lest your tongue be cut out because of your sinfully repulsive speech".  It's true, that as one who loves Jesus, every Christian is to take heed of this verse and let their speech be gracious.  But gracious doesn't mean nice and tidy and clean.

I contend that God is far more concerned with the condition of a person's heart, why they are saying what they are saying, than the words they use.  I mean, I know a lot of people- myself included, really- who will go on and on about good, Christian sounding stuff with nary a cuss word and yet it's all a bunch of rubbish.  They are stroking their own ego and being vile puffed up turds.  I propose to you that God is far more offended by that than a person using a colorful word that truly applies to a situation, like I did with "shitty life".  There really isn't a better word to have conveyed the message I was intending, and I'm not going to get all intellectual and pull some heady word out of my ass in order to sound better.

That said, these things have a time and a place.  For one, I don't go around saying words like that to just anyone.  I have Christian friends who get super uncomfortable if I even say "pissed" in front of them, so I'm careful.  I have other Christian friends with whom I can say those words and they totally get it.  And, obviously, I'm not going to walk into a room full of pre-schoolers and be all, "Did you m-effers see that effing snow out there?  $**t damn!".  There is such a thing as prudence.

But this is my blog, a safe place to be myself.  I hope that my heart will shine through, that it will be evident that I am a real person with a genuine desire to glorify Jesus.  If, over time, I am convicted that I should not ever use a word like "shitty", then I pray I'll be sensitive and listen to Him, and that I'll obey.

I'm sure some of my more conservative friends have told their husbands they are praying for my "loose" tongue and that I'll grow in Christ and be more gracious in my speech.  I'm cool with that.  I'm just saying that I care far more about my motives, the heart behind why I do things, than with what I actually do.  For five years I never said words like shit and yet my heart was a legalistic mess.  I'd rather be a messy mess in need of Jesus, surrendering to Him more and more, than a clean-mouthed hater of God living according to rules and religion.

Enough of rant.  Must pre-write one or two posts about what I actually meant to write about, and that's some tasty food I made in the last coupla weeks!