Every fight Stephen and I have is due to miscommunication. It sucks. I mean, fighting with him at all. I hate it. It makes my stomach turn into a bed of knots. It never feels right. Even if I’m 100% right, it feels like I’m 100% wrong. Not that I’m worried he’ll walk away or anything like that. It just aches to know there’s blackness sitting there.

Of course, the recent miscommunication had to be over semantics. Important semantics, of course, but semantics nonetheless. Weirdness.

I’ve never been good with being patient. I guess God’s trying to teach me that lesson (again).

Speaking of God, Stephen came to faith this week.

I have to just stop and stare at that sentence. Roll it around and touch it and poke it and hold onto it. It’s too much to just write down in one sentence and let lie there.

He told me about it last night. He told me that he believes Jesus Christ died for his sins. He said he thought I should know. My head nearly exploded with colors. I can’t even imagine what happened in Heaven. I’m getting teary-eyed writing about it now.

I wanted so much for this to not be about me. Nothing to do with me at all. Stephen’s heart is so soft, so caring, so forgiving, so full of grace, that I knew God had already been in there working. But I didn’t want his salvation to have anything to do with me at all. I could be a catalyst, but nothing else.

And it wasn’t about me. I didn’t even know about it. It was everything to do with Stephen and Jesus. Just like it should be.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the LORD , “and will bring you back from captivity.”

–Jeremiah 29:11-14a

Perfectly astounded,
michelle