I look at these yellow walls, the love notes marking where we’ve been, and where we’re going.
Lists of backpacking adventures below two old, rusted railroad ties Justin wound together and hung on the wall, in the shape of a cross.
The painting of the huge, white barn, the work of my friend’s hands, above our couch. Perfect blue sky and white cloud fluffs and four six-paned windows that invite, “come closer, peer inside!”
We hang words, images, in our house that grab our attention. We are forgetful and need reminding sometimes: Our identity is in you, God. We need community around us to help us walk close with You. We want to live lives of faith—lives of adventure where we lock arms with you, Father.
The black canvases on each side of the barn painting remind us of some of our favorite memories with God, as a family. The days and weeks of climbing, of hiking, of seeking beauty outside the usual bustle of our town, where we live. Even though they are simple lists of words describing places where we’ve been, they remind us of things we love to do with God, moments when we have felt most ourselves and heard His voice in our hearts. They are physical reminders of our unique identity, as a marriage couple, in Christ.
The barn painting, with its white walls and tall rafters, and the fact that our dear friend created this painting with her two hands, reminds us how we want to pursue community in our lives—trusting our Savior to help us love people. It’s a painting of a barn near where we have shared winters and summers with a family whom we love. The barn represents to us community with whom we can be open and vulnerable and honest. Community that will challenge us and ask the tough questions and stick by us when life is hard.
And this canvas below, with the water and the mountain peak, daring, just to be climbed? Justin created this canvas, a photo reminding us of the first mountain we climbed together. This canvas reminds Justin and me to grab fast to our Savior’s hand and be unafraid to head into something new.
Oh darling, let’s be adventurers. Yes, let’s.
And we wonder if you think about this too? Specifically, how might we, as the Holy Entangled, work to remind each other to stay true to our unique identities in Christ, doing things with Him that we most love to do? How might we, as the Holy Entangled, seek community around us, relationships that urge us on in our relationship with Christ? How might we, as the Holy Entangled, claim adventure and go forward into all that God has for us, as individuals, and as spouses in marriage?
We’d love to hear your ideas. Practically, how do you remind each other of what is most true when the world distracts us from it?