Thursday Thoughts: What I Learned at a Dueling Piano Bar in Omaha

As the finale for my brother-in-law's 30th birthday, Christopher and I met up with him and his wife for drinks at a dueling piano bar in Omaha. It would be a new experience for everyone and we just hoped it would be fun.

It was definitely a new experience.

First, it was extremely loud. Set in the back room of a sports bar, the room consisted of a bunch of tables (filled with all sorts of people, including a few bachelorette parties) and some pretty sizable speakers that washed out any ability to hear even the waitress trying to take our order.

Second, it seemed innocuous enough at first. A few well-known songs. Guys playing piano, singing to each other. And then came the first hit of raunch, which we assumed was in passing and would get better as the night progressed.

But, third, we were wrong. It became progressively worse. And, to be honest, it's not the cursing or lewdness that got to me the most: It was the (seemingly) endless attack on marriage.

Marriage is the end of fun, of enjoying your partner. It's all about how one spouse can manipulate the other. Better enjoy the last night or nights you have before it's all over.

Chris and I later talked about how we're surprised anyone actually gets married anymore. There has to be something built into us that knows it is supposed to be meaningful, worthwhile, and beautiful. Most of the world has just seen the bad examples, the "irreconcilable differences," the affairs, the drifting apart after multiple decades together.

The Christian side of things isn't really any better. More than half of those marriages end in divorce, just like the rest. What's missing? Why are we failing at something we so obviously desire but just can't seem to get right?

About a month ago, I had a pretty rattling dream where I was surrounded by a number of believing couples whose marriages I greatly respect who, at the influence of one member of the group, decided that they should all get a "mass" divorce and swap wives. (Most of this is probably due to subconscious fears rooted in experiences at one of the churches my family attended while I was growing up, which is a long, crazy story.)

And, as they began to strip off their wedding rings and celebrate the finalized dissolution of their marriages, I got up on the table and started yelling at them about how foolish they were, about how God would never divorce them - and He had every reason to do so.

Which is BIG for me, you know, because whenever I start yelling in dreams, nothing actually comes out of my mouth. I typically start yelling and realize that no sound is coming out, and become increasingly burdened until I wake either shaking or weeping.

But I was definitely yelling in my dream, and I awoke with the words, "God will never divorce you," rolling over and over in my head. There is so much power in those words that we too often neglect.

You see, Christopher and I are married. We took vows in front of family, friends, and God, and we celebrated in style like so many others do. But we are committed to more than just one another. We're committed to something deeper - that Christ's sacrifice for the Church (His bride) ought to shape us and how we understand marriage. And divorce is not an option.

It's a covenant that's deeper than affection. It's rooted in the very fact that Christ chose us when we did not deserve it, but He did it anyway. We whore after lesser things, thinking they will fulfill us. We have been unfaithful to the Faithful One. Yet, though we fail Him time and again, He upholds His covenant with us that He will never leave us or forsake us.

Marriage can be a beautiful, life-giving thing. The world may see chains, but I see freedom in the fact that God will hold me to my covenant to this man. Freedom from fear. Freedom to believe that, in the same way, God holds Himself to His covenant to me. He will never divorce me. What a beautiful truth upon which to build my life and my marriage.

And, to think, I learned that at a dueling piano bar in Omaha.

Four Years and It is Lovelier (Still)

Four years ago, I slept in my bed at my parents' house for the last time. The 24 hours that followed bound me to my best friend in ways that I cannot even begin to comprehend - even now.

There is an incredible mystery to being one flesh. The idea that a man and a woman can join and image forth Christ in a new way is something so much beyond us that we could easily take our whole lives together in attempting to figure out just how He made this to work.

In the days that preceded my becoming a wife, I took time to reflect on some of the many reasons why I loved Christopher and the excitement I felt at finally becoming his bride. I put together a book for Christopher that was likely more piecemeal than story, but it was an incredible time to prepare my heart.

I picked up the book tonight on my way out of our bedroom when I couldn't sleep (I always have trouble sleeping the night before special things, perhaps because I'm prone to over-thinking and reflection in the wee hours). It was incredible to leaf through just a few of the pages, thinking about where we've been, where God has us, and the many places He has yet to carry us.

I am so incredibly blessed to have a husband who loves me and is willing to sacrifice for the sake of the kingdom, to call me out when I'm out of line and need correction, to stand by me day after day and yet not set me above the God who made him and saved him.

Before we were married, we attended a conference and heard one of our pastors talk about how he and his wife desired their lives to look like two people fighting back-to-back for the sake of the Gospel. Even though they may not have been 'looking' at one another, they were still fighting together.

Something about that idea caught fire in the both of us, and we have tried (and failed and tried again) to keep that idea at the center of our marriage. It has not truly ever been easy.

Our four years of marriage have been marked by a lot of ministry and the strained relationships that come with that commitment. We have had some intense family struggles that we have no desire to relive or revisit. We have learned that forgiveness and reconciliation are not the same thing. God has pulled me through two seasons of depression. Chris has struggled with work, returning to school for his teacher's license and seeking his place in the classroom that God has only granted him in the past year.

But the root is that life is "lovelier still" when Christ is at the center, and marriage is no different. We have not had an easy lot, but we are anchored to something more than a desire for each other. As we said in our vows:

For better or worse, richer or poorer;
In sickness and in health;
In the pursuit of Christ and His glory;
Until death do us part.

Our aim is to pursue Christ and His glory until death parts us. Not because of anything that we bring to the table - by no means! It is only by the grace and the goodness of the God who saves us that we can make it through each day.

But because of His grace and goodness, we fight onward. Together.

It is Lovelier Still

©2005, Alyssa Kate Grinstead

How beautiful to wake in the morning

And see your beloved’s head next to yours
How beautiful to see sleep in the evening –
To find rest near the one you adore.

Yet lovelier still is to walk hand-in-hand,
Bound in Christ through this foreign land –
Knowing love and life in His sacrifice,
It is lovelier still.

How beautiful to provide for the one you love

And know that they will never have need

How beautiful to see past every fault and flaw –

To know there are more important things.

Yet lovelier still is to provide daily bread,
To feed until your souls are fed –
To find living water when your souls are dry,
It is lovelier still.

It is lovelier still with Christ at the center.
It is lovelier still when faithful and true.
It is lovelier still to step out side-by-side –
The world’s grace in the marriage of two.

Yet lovelier still is to not walk alone,
To look forward to your heavenly home –
To love each other as Christ loved His bride,
It is lovelier still.

When there is no safe place to begin...

...You just have to start.

So, I got married. I had a wonderful time with family and friends celebrating under one roof with Christopher and me. We dropped off of the face of the state for a week and went to Tahoe while it was burning, where we had a lot of fun.

[[Just so you know, I love being married, and think that it is one of the most incredible things God has given us while we are here on this earth. Marriage is such an instructor in how our relationship to God should really look, and I fall so grievously short. The best part of the whole thing is that I am married to Christopher, who is my best friend. I am so graciously blessed. But I digress...]]

Then, we came back to Colorado, moved into our apartment, went back to work, and have been working ever since - though things have recently gotten more interesting.

The Rock is changing. Not a bad thing at all. It causes us all to lean more fully on Christ and to apply the buzzphrase in our circles these days - "fresh faith".

But the Rock split into two parts: the on-campus teams and the off-campus, working singles. Teams got reorganized. Teams merged before multiplying. Some teams split between on- and off-campus. Complete confusion ensued until things got sorted out.

In the clearing fog, however, Chris and I have taken over our beloved team of brothers and sisters, who are now few but still strong (if not stronger) after the summer paths that God took them each down. We returned sober-minded but ready to go.

We hit the dorms hard the first few weeks and tried to be encouraged with the small batch of fruit that emerged (which we truly have been encouraged by recently). Unfortunately, this is the hardest year I've ever experienced in the dorms, merely looking at people's willingness to go out and do something fun - much less something 'religious' or 'spiritual'.

Each week, we feel like we're just learning as we go, looking to coaches and our team members for encouragement. There seem to be so many things that I have learned in the last week alone, yet I feel as though I have failed to have time to process them. God is so good. God is so faithful.

And in every little thing.

I have been working on an amazingly long post about things that I learned this summer, but I am not sure when (if ever) it will be finished, so I figured I should just write something else in the meantime.

Last night, we listened to Pat Sokoll's message entitled, "Discipleship" at our leadership training time. Having never heard it before but having heard a lot about it, I was eager to listen. There are so many things that stood out, but here are the main two:

1) I have no rights. I own nothing. I am not entitled to any thing.

2) We multiply after our own kind, both the good and the bad.

The second has been such an eye-opener over the past week anyway. We cannot reproduce that which we are not. If I want the women I disciple to read their Bibles daily and seek out God and dive deep into the richness of His Word, than I must do (and exhibit) the same. If I want them to serve others or share the Gospel boldly, then I must do the same.

And, honestly, I've been taking some serious stock of the traits that I do not want to multiply into these women. I don't want them to catch my laziness or my desire to go home and take a nap. I don't want them to learn how to be apathetic from me. I don't want them to learn how to withdraw from a group and decide they don't 'need' the fellowship.

Obviously, not everything can be changed overnight. I am still a work in progress.

But unless I show these women that I am changing, that I am being molded into Christ's likeness, then how am I to expect that they will go forth and do so? I must be working on the board in my own eye (Luke 6) so that I can assist my sisters with the specks in their own. I cannot expect them to grow if I am not putting forth the effort to do so myself.

Please understand that I am not saying that my salvation rests upon my efforts to make myself more Christ-like. I have no more ability to do that than I do of counting the stars in the skies that remind us of the promises God made to Abraham.

We are still called to action, however. We are still called to obedience. I am not called to be stagnant. I am not called to be lazy. I am not called to live outside of fellowship. I am not called to be apathetic.

I am called to serve. I am not my own.

Mood: Scattered Listening to: People yelling in the street outside
Reading: Madeleine L'Engle, Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art

The sneaking of days...

I'm not quite sure how I got to this point, but I'm getting married in what is now less than a week. This thing that has been so far off for the past year and a half is finally going to happen. I get so overwhelmed by emotion sometimes.

But it's been such an encouragement to see where I've been growing in the past few months. There are changes that I'm finally seeing in myself that I never thought would be possible, but that I prayed for anyway.

For one, I am becoming more bold. There's something that happens when you have to take ownership over your life. There's a process of growing up that takes away some of the "bashfulness," as Rick Whitney put it at the Rock Friday night. There's such a freedom when you begin to come to the realization that God is the source of everything you have and is your only true authority.

But it's more than being bold. I truly believe that being bold is rooted firmly in self-worth and confidence, based on who I am in relation to Christ. Ironically, boldness and confidence are found in humility. It was so strange to stand on stage last night at the Rock and lead worship with a brother and a sister, and feel fully at ease, yet fully in the presence of God. I didn't shake nervously during soundcheck or during the first few songs. The only time I began shaking was when I realized I wasn't!

I am such a long way from where I was four or five years ago, where I would shake out of nervousness, but truly only out of pride - not out of fear or reverence for the One who has given me talents to use for His glory. How gracious our God is!

I do not spend time with the Father in the same ways that I used to. I am sorely lacking in discipline these days, partially due to the long list I am constantly whittling away at for the wedding, partially due to exhaustion, and partially due to laziness. But tonight, I am off to calm my racing mind at my Savior's feet, where the whole of my being so longs to fall. Perhaps I'll even write something.

There is so much to be said for discipline, for showing up every day ready to work for the kingdom. I am so often unprepared. Tomorrow will be different.

Mood: Simply Tired Listening to: Last Summer's Demos
Reading: Not Nearly Enough

One Month

It's amazing to me how time just seems to fly right past and that, once it picks up, it doesn't let you back down. The past six months have been a whirlwind of planning and preparation, searching and staying. I've become engaged, graduated, moved out, commuted to work, gone to work for a church, been sick countless times, slept little, loved a lot of people, spent a lot of time with my parents, and begun to realize what it's like to not only be post-high school, but post-college as well.

Sometimes, it's incredibly hard. For instance, there are times when I talk to my brother on the phone and I just wish we were still in high school and living in both the same house and the same state. There are times when I get so frustrated because my mom doesn't grasp the fact that my life exists apart from her and not everything can get done within her timeframe. There are times when I'd love to just curl up on the couch and listen to my dad as he plays and writes music.

But it's so incredibly rewarding and worthwhile. Certainly, I have cried my share of tears, but so many of them have been tears of overwhelming joy.

I've gotten to know the beautiful woman that my brother loves. I've seen the girls on our team open and flourish and grow so much in their faith in the Lord. I've re-opened a relationship with a friend from middle school. I've known the freedom and excitement of worshipping with a band behind me. I've healed. I've become a little more confident. I've seen a front-page byline at a newspaper with my name on it.

And, in one month, I get to marry my best friend - perhaps the cause of the most joy and excitement.

In the midst of all of this, however, I have found it hard to write. There are times when I find it difficult to process my circumstances without writing. Perhaps this season has even been one of those times. I simply felt incapable of writing, of trying to put down all that has been going on both within me and outside of me.

Last weekend, I watched two of our closest friends marry each other. They were so excited that they fidgeted through the ceremony and cried during their vows. That swept me into overjoy - I fear there is no other word for it! I cried for joy the three days prior to the wedding, almost the entire day of the wedding, and have been crying sporadically ever since.

How incredible it is that God grants us such a gift as to spend the rest of our lives with our best friend!

The reality is beginning to sink in for me. One month.

One month to finish preparing for a lifetime of preparation, of kingdom building. One month to move as much as possible north to the Fort, even though I can't come home often and gas prices are ridiculously high. One month to figure out insurance policies and whether or not we'll actually have someplace to live. One month to organize two persons' lives into one as much as possible.

One more month with my last name. One more month of sleeping and living alone. And one more month of saying "good night" and having it mean "goodbye."

How did we come down to merely one month? Wasn't it yesterday that it was November and December and we were just putting shape to our plans? How do we now have rings and vows and RSVPs and gifts arriving?

It is so surreal, yet so real all at the same time.

Christopher started packing in the last few days, and I just get so excited to think that I get to live with and serve with my best friend for as long as God wills us both to live. We get to celebrate with friends and family, and we get to set off on our own to make our own lives and decisions, and to seek God's will for our "family."

Which is such a strange word, but one that I am so grateful for its many meanings.

I have a family that I was born into. Mom, Dad, little brother, dogs, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins...

But I also have families that I've gained: multiple church families, a high school family, a camp family, a college family...

And I'm about to gain Christopher's family as well.

It's so incredible to think that representatives from each of these family branches will be celebrating under the same roof with us in only a month. I used to get so excited for heaven simply because it meant they would all be together - how wonderful a foretaste this will be!

I don't know how I wound up 22, or getting married, or with a journalism degree, or stronger in my faith, or anything. I just know that I let go and God has swept me along to where He desires me to be in this moment.

It has not been and may not always be easy, but I don't think that ease truly plays any good role in life. It simply results in stagnant people. Change happens. We grow. We learn what it means to look a little more like Christ.

Being married apparently refines you. I look forward to that.

One month.