Feb 12, 2015

Fifty Bales Of Hay...

We baled a lot of hay.

Early in our marriage my husband and I had two horses and a pony in the hundred acre woods where we lived. A log cabin with stone fireplaces, built from the slate of the land was nestled at the top of a lake that sat between the horse pasture and cabin. The wood we burned was cut by my husband from trees that had fallen along the forest floor. 

In the winter the husband would haul bale after bale of hay to his horses. Twice a day he would make sure they had water, hay, oats, shelter. 
Our barn was stacked full of the fresh smelling life. 

I remember crisp, cold winter mornings, the sun so bright and snow so deep, the husband would be frozen from shoveling, cutting a wide path to the horses. One winter it seemed to snow every Tuesday and Thursday. It was beautiful but I started to think we were living a real life, Little House In The Big Woods, that we read with our daughter each night. 
It was hard work. He would lace his LL Bean boots, heavy coat and gloves and be gone early in the morning, before his 8 am O.R. schedule.

In the spring the horses would be restless and the pony would start the gallop through the field searching until she found a broken fence post. The horses would follow her out into mischief.  The husband would get in his truck, searching the country roads, sometimes a phone call would come in, letting us know the three amigos had been spotted. He would lead them back to safe pastures, mend the broken fence. 

It's been more than a few years since we lived on that land, but I remember clearly. Hard work and green earth leaves impression upon us. 
Fifty bales of hay popped into my head as I was hearing commotion about Fifty Shades Of Grey, just in time for Valentine's day.... That was the plan I'm sure. A romantic movie for your valentine. Nice. Fifty bales, fifty shades, couldn't be more different, but they rhymed. A little.

When I think of what my husband does that makes me love him, desire him, feel proud of him, hug him hard when he comes home to me...
I think of bales of hay, working hard, day and night, being available to me, never quitting on us. Affirming me, pushing me, believing in me, loving me well. He never made me wonder if he loved me, or still loves me. 

So how should we, I, feel about Fifty Shades Of Grey? I have heard enough to understand the premise of the book and movie. I'm a reader. No, I did not read this book.
I can read a variety of books and have a take away from most. 
I chose not to read this book. 

Here are the questions I ask myself.
1)  Is this movie a picture of how God intended my relationship with my husband to be? Is it healthy? 
2)  Is it explicit and is that something that I should/will be comfortable with? Okay, cut to the chase. Is it porn? Is porn good for us, really? Really? 
                                        Then you can ask what moms ask their kids... 
3)  How would you feel if God was sitting with you in that movie theater... Because He is you know. You know that, right? Duh. He's God.

So, if you believe it to be edifying, will help your marriage, increase your love and respect for one another, and be an enjoyable night together... because you must go as a couple, right? Oh, men don't really want to see this movie ?! Gasp. No kidding.

I think number 3 is the question we should ask ourselves most days, in most situations. It cuts through  the crap we tell ourselves, the lies we believe, making us comfortable. 
If God lives in you, He goes where you go, as part of your soul. 
Think about where you want to take Him. 
Pretty simple.

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