Y’all probably know by now that my husband and I recently moved into a new house. Generally, I would be publishing a book review for this blog post, but the packing, moving, unpacking, cleaning…well, it’s kept me busier than a one-armed paperhanger (as one of my colorful Southern characters might say).
I’ve been reading Healing the Mountain Man’s Heart, Book 1 in the Brothers of Sapphire Ranch Series by Misty Beller. I was hoping to have it read and reviewed for today’s blog post. It’s very good so far, so please don’t take my lack of discipline in finishing it as a slur on the book itself. There just doesn’t seem to be enough hours in the day. And honestly, it wasn’t until last night I got my reading chair cleared of miscellaneous paraphernalia. I had no idea we had so much stuff!
If you’ve ever moved, you know it comes with a boatload of stress. What should take only seconds becomes a monumental task when I can’t remember where I put what. And my poor husband! He just figures out where to find something when I move it to a new (better) location. He would be so easy to gaslight!
So, yes, there have been a few tense moments during this transition. Research has shown that moving is more stressful than divorce. What? I’ve been through a divorce, and I find that hard to believe. It didn’t help that we were very casual about packing up the house and planning the big day. Partly, it was because we weren’t exactly sure when our house would be move-in ready. But mostly it was because we thought we had a lot of time once it was ready.
Then an unexpected (I might even say miraculous) offer came in, and the owners wanted a two-week escrow. We went from casual to frantic in the space of twenty-four hours. Am I complaining? Absolutely not! It was such a huge sign that the Lord had been working out the details in the background while we were painting worse-case scenarios in our minds.
Why did we ever doubt?
I’m reminded about a book I read years ago when I was desperately seeking a way to keep my first marriage intact. I don’t remember the title or the author (otherwise I’d link it here for you), but I remember the term, love tank, and it stayed with me. When your spouse does something sweet for you, like making you a cup of coffee (which mine just did) or tells you what a gift you are to him, it’s fuel for your love tank. The more fuel your spouse gives you, the fuller your tank.
When you have a full tank, it’s much easier to draw from it when things get a little challenging. His impatient response, his dirty clothes left on the floor, or him using up the gas and leaving you with an empty car—whatever might have you grumbling about your lot in life like the Israelites through their forty years of wandering in the wilderness.
The other day, Chris and I went outside to walk the property to check out the excavators’ finish dirt work, and a neighbor drove up in his UTV to introduce himself. Larry and his wife live just around the corner, and he wanted to welcome us to the neighborhood. We talked for almost an hour. Some might say the time would’ve been better spent on other things (like getting a few more boxes unpacked or finishing up Misty Beller’s book), but not in God’s economy.
Larry shared with us that his 26-year-old son had been killed in a car accident down the road just last year. The young man left his wife a widow and his baby fatherless. Being a mother who almost lost my daughter to a car accident when she was eighteen, my stomach knotted at his news. I truly could imagine the pain of that loss.
“But God had us surrounded,” he said. He went on to tell us about his church family (God’s angels) and pastor who held him and his wife up during the hardest season of their lives. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without them. My faith got me through.”
As we said goodbye to Larry and headed back to the house, I pondered his words. I thought about all the trials we face in this fallen world, and how easy it would be to drown in sorrow and pain. I thought about our friend who died two weeks ago after losing her twenty-year battle with cancer. I thought about the many widows in our church who never seem to give into the grief they surely must feel being left alone. I thought about another friend who lost her three-year-old daughter to brain cancer years ago.
What makes some people draw closer to God during seasons of heartbreak and others walk away?
Just as we need a love tank for our marriages (or any relationship, really), we need a love tank for our walk with Christ. When trials hit, we need to draw from that tank all the gifts the Lord has given us, so we can trust that no matter what, He didn’t mistakenly hand someone else’s trial to us. He is good and faithful. The Lord gives and takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. The road might be hard, but He’s carrying us the entire way. There is a loving purpose in His plan, even when we can’t see it through the fog and tears of grief.
So, where do we get the fuel for the Lord’s love tank?
Remembering His faithfulness in past times is a start. I keep a prayer journal that I refer to on occasion. I’ve seen the Lord do such amazing things in my life—most especially through the hardest seasons.
Spend time every morning in His Word, reading devotionals, and praying. It’s fuel for our day—and fuel for His love tank.
Be thankful. Oh, how easy it is to forget all the blessings when we’re focused on the trials. Instead, we should remind ourselves of every kindness (mercy, really) the Lord has shown us.
We live in a fallen world, and we are never promised an easy go of it. Just take a look at Jesus’ ministry if you don’t believe me. God the Father loved His Son beyond measure, and yet He sent Jesus to die on the cross. For you. For me. For everyone who believes.
That ought to be enough to keep our love tanks good and full until we’re called home, don’t you think?
