I’m a reader. To a fault. The internet doesn’t help much either because now I have access to all kinds of book reviews and blogs and articles. I could read all day. Sometimes I do. That’s where the “to a fault” part comes in. *wink*

Right now I’m in the middle of the book Radical by David Platt. It’s a challenging read. And I don’t mean that it has big words that are hard to read or convoluted thoughts that are challenging to follow. I mean that it is challenging the hidden corners of my heart. The subtitle alone is enough to make you squirm a little bit: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream. Ouch. That’s a little bit, well, uncomfortable.

Like I said, it’s challenging. And I’m only in the second chapter.

As I read, I’m wondering what does it look like to take back your faith from the American Dream? I mean, put some flesh on that one. Who do I know that is living that way? Is this just another fad in Christian circles or is this something I can really do? I still have a lot of wrestling to do as I consider Platt’s ideas. I really think he’s on to something. But, more on that later.

In the meantime, I wanted to share an example of someone who IS getting a little radical. It might not be for everyone but it is a pretty cool story of a Kentucky couple and their unusual wedding reception. It came to me through my friend Kait, who knows the bride personally. Read on…

Tanya Ferguson and Christian Torp are getting married this coming Labor Day and are hosting their entire neighborhood at their reception in Lexington. Instead of handing out favors, they will hand out canned goods and clothing to those in need.

 “We wanted our wedding to be about more than a dress and a fancy dinner,” Tanya said. “We live in this community surrounded by people who work hard just to be able to put a hot meal on their table. What better opportunity to care for our neighbors than at our wedding, an occasion that’s supposed to be the happiest day of our lives!” The couple has invited local service organizations to attend as well.

 The couple has purposely chosen to live in the struggling William Wells Brown neighborhood so they can provide legal assistance and other forms of help to those without. The groom has formed his own law practice dedicated entirely to providing affordable law services. It has been no easy feat for him to achieve.

“We want our neighbors, the church and our love for people to intertwine,” said the bride. “We recognize that our neighbors are not a charity case, but are deserving of respect and dignity. We have spent time with many of them and look forward to living and working together for our community,” she added.

Sounds a little like taking back your faith from the American Dream, doesn’t it? If you’d like to participate, the couple is accepting donations of food, meal service items, clothes and canned goods. Monetary donations will be used expressly toward providing these items. Donations can be sent to P.O. Box 861, Lexington, KY 40588.

I’m intrigued by his quiet service. “Who is that guy anyway?”

He’s behind the project house stomping on pop cans for the recycling bin. No one knows he’s back there doing this thankless job. It’s only 1990 and recycling hasn’t even become very vogue yet. He’s alone in the alley and I watch him from my window. He in his Nike Vulturo hiking boots, cargo shorts and Denison tee. “Denison? Where’s Denison?”  I linger there a few minutes more and then on with my evening chores.

It was the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college.  I was far from home, living in a huge house with 90 other students from around the country – my friend Cheryle was the only other person I even knew. We were on an adventure with Campus Crusade for Christ. Little did I know all the ways that summer would shape my life…

Not the least of which was that Denison guy that I’d spied in the alley.

I hadn’t been looking for love. In fact, I’d started the summer dating someone else from my own college. He was a great guy but conversations with roommates, some soul-searching, and a “Dear John” letter led to the close of that relationship.

It wasn’t more than a few days after I’d sent said letter that I had been paired up with the Denison guy to go do spiritual interest surveys on the boardwalk in Atlantic City.

By this time I knew his name was Rick. We’d met in the lobby a few weeks earlier when his first words to me were “cop a squat” as he pulled up a bench for Cheryle and me. I in my navy blue, Delta Gamma pull-over, hoping that my Greek letters would hide all the apprehension and insecurity I’d been feeling at meeting 90 new people. “Cop a squat? What the heck does that mean? Sort of a weird thing to say.”

That survey pairing was just random; but, looking back, we’re pretty sure God had His fingerprints all over that one. For we talked in between surveys and something began to stir within both of us. Interest was piqued. Interest became pursuit. That pursuit was received and blossomed into romance. In time the romance became something deeper and love was born between us.

But it was more than a summer of young love. It was a summer of deep spiritual challenge as our director, Jim Sylvester, encouraged us to live in the shadow of God’s amazing grace. Not only for our own lives but he implored us to also take that grace to a parched and dying world.

Our fledgling relationship took root in that soil – right from the beginning we talked of living for something more than the proverbial picket fence. Of a life that revolved around Someone worthy of everything we had to give.

That was nearly 20 years ago.

Yesterday we celebrated 18 years of marriage. Eighteen years of covenant life together – no matter what has or will come. Eighteen years of letting Jesus chip away the junk in our lives bit by bit as we laugh and cry and agonize and rejoice through life together.

Coincidentally, we celebrated it with our Community Group serving a meal to homeless people in downtown Akron. No silver or candlelight or wine. Just plasticware with big pots of chicken soup, donated cornbread and jugs of red punch.

I’m not sure I’d have it any other way. In fact, as I looked across the cafeteria last night at my man talking with a young man who has spent the last seven of his 25 years in and out of prison, I was sure of it.

I think it’s exactly the best way we could have spent our anniversary.

Isn’t that what we said 20 years ago when two college students sat on the rock jetty, stared out into hugeness of God’s Atlantic Ocean and dreamed of living for something more than the picket fence?

Happy Anniversary, Denison guy…

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I’m adding to my gratitude list today. So thankful for 18 years with the man who still gives me butterflies… and for the life we have together.

1969. It was a time of great transition and turbulence in our nation.

We were in the midst of a controversial war. A new president had just taken office. An American astronaut became the first human to set foot on the Moon. The most famous music festival of modern times “WOODSTOCK” took place on a New York Farm in August with more than 350,000 avid music fans in attendance. The Pontiac Firebird Trans Am was introduced. The Beattles released Abbey Road and performed their last public concert on the roof of Apple records.

On this very day in 1969, tragedy struck when the Australian aircraft carrier Melbourne collided with the U.S. destroyer Frank E. Evans in the South China Sea and 74 U.S. sailors were killed.

But June 3, 1969, was significant for another reason. On the other side of the world, another event was taking place. A smaller, but no less profound, moment in time. It was a short ceremony between a man and a woman who were pledging to walk through life together from that moment until death. It probably took less than half-an-hour. There were very few witnesses – they waited to tell family and friends until after the ceremony. There was no wedding party. Not much pomp. She wore a simple, stylish white dress instead of a wedding gown. He a coat and tie instead of a tuxedo. She was a recent high school grad from a simple, country town. He a recently enlisted private in the US Army. Within a few short days they would load everything they owned into their corvette and drive across the country to Fort Carson in Colorado Springs, Colorado.

They didn’t know it at the time for they didn’t give Him much thought, but God was presiding over that moment. He was there, uniting two distinct lives into one flesh. It would be years before they would invite Him from the fringes of their lives into their own hearts and, ultimately, to the Center of their family; but as they celebrate 40 years of marriage today both will readily admit that His grace was there all along. Wooing them; sustaining them; teaching them; even protecting them from themselves!

Today their marriage is a living testimony to the way that God’s grace can so permeate a marriage that by watching it, one gets a glimpse of God’s relationship with His bride, the Church. Their marriage is a picture of God’s greater story.

He by creating a safe haven where she can grow and flourish. Giving her time and encouragement to develop her gifts and passions. Leading with the heart of a servant. Listening to her perspectives and ideas.

She by willingly submitting to his leadership – even when it means a risk for her. Cultivating a dwelling that he loves coming home to. Pursuing excellence to bring him honor.  Biting her tongue when needed. Respecting his thought and initiative in their family and church.

In many ways on this day in 2009, we could say theirs is a charmed life. They are young for empty-nesters and are embarking on a whole new phase of life together.

When he comes home at the end of the work day, she has a creative meal ready and they have great conversation while they sit at the table together – each genuinely interested in the other’s day. Some nights they work in the yard together. Some nights they help a neighbor mow his meadow or serve in their church together. Some nights they simply sit on the deck and listen to the sounds of the woods behind their house together.

They have learned the art of good conversation as well as the ability to sit together in silence. They know each other’s quirks and rhythms – and they’re OK with those. Afterall, they have 40 years of history and practice. 

As I reflect on their marriage, I’m grateful for this legacy. I know that it wasn’t always a charmed life. Like every couple, they entered marriage with their own selfish ambitions and perspectives. Their foundational years were ones of holding God at bay. They were young and spent their first two years displaced from family and friends. Within a few months of saying “I do”, they were pregnant with their first child and then dealing with all the transition a new baby brings. In the years that followed, they would have their share of relational and financial strain. By today’s standards, they could have bailed at any time. But they stuck it out.

And, they didn’t just learn to live together. They learned to live together WELL. Like one of those great, beautiful trees that offers shade and safety and splendor for others. All that cultivating and pruning through all those seasons, year after year, has produced a bountiful harvest.

That harvest is the most precious gift they will ever offer me. For I was that first-born child. For 39 of those 40 years, I’ve been watching and learning. I paid attention as the tree grew. I enjoyed the protection of its branches and the beauty of its fruit. And, now, 17 years into growing my own tree, I will continue that legacy.

Let this day be full of revelry and celebration – both of the tree and the amazing grace of God that has nourished it these 40 years.