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About Eric’s Wife

I am Eric’s Wife. I am also mother to two teenagers on the very cusp of adulthood, the founding director of Scripture from the Heart, an avid world watcher, bold and insecure at once. I serve a merciful God and I love a guy who makes my knees weak. This is where I write about it all.  Thank you for reading!

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Grow Up.

June 23, 2020

“Yeah, Amy, but can you even read Greek and Hebrew?

I have heard this question more than a few times. It always comes from someone who can read Greek and Hebrew and it always follows me having the temerity to offer an opinion on Scripture, translations, or interpretations. The first several times I heard it I felt immediately shut down and sheepish. I mean, who on earth do I think I am, developing thoughts on Scripture without a working knowledge of the original languages?

The last time I heard it, I had it printed on a t-shirt.

I need to first start this line of conversation off by stating that I have a deeply humbled appreciation for the scholars who have put the Bible in its current form into my hands. When I put my hand to my well worn copy of Strong’s Concordance or my Greek-English New Testament parallel Bible, or any form of Hebrew text with translations, I know that I am standing on the shoulders of giants of scholarship. I never want to be considered dismissive of the incredible gift we’ve been given by the work of these giants.

This post is not a passive aggressive attempt to shame anyone who shut me down by one upping my amateur opinion with pedigreed skill. I am writing this post for Christians like me, who have no Bible degree and who might feel like they have no ability to read it and understand it.

It is understandable that Christians in America would hand over the studying and reading of Scripture to the professionals. You cannot cut hair without a license, you cannot pull a tooth without years of school, and you certainly cannot preach a sermon without a certificate from a seminary. We leave a lot of things to professionals for our own good. Why would we assume we could read a Bible without some sort of assistance?

If you believe that the Holy Spirit exists and that He wants to train you in the way you should grow, then you must believe that He stands ready to assist you when you read His Word.

There is a spirit creeping through the church that seems to treat Scripture as a dead body at autopsy. It is approached with a Gnostic sense of secret knowledge that is only for the very elite learned. The bones are separated from marrow, veins expertly exposed, and yet, the living and breathing Life that comes from Scripture is dimmed to a point of becoming lifeless. It is an autopsy by the most skilled of hands and it is killing the American church.

You have an enemy who hates you and he does not want you to read the Bible. He wants you to read books about the Bible, sing songs about the Bible, listen to sermons about the Bible, and then never feel like you are responsible to read it.

Christians, it is time to grow up. If you spend more time gathering news stories and following current events than you do in time with God, you are in very real danger. The time is coming very soon when the sheep will perish if they do not know the Shepherd’s voice and there is only one way to know His voice. Read His Word. You can. You must.

On Leaving Childhood

June 17, 2020

During a recent attempt to make me crack, Spotify threw an Enya song about mothers at me. It all started with a peppy “sail away, sail away, sail away” while I washed dishes, and then suddenly I was sobbing while loading towels into the washing machine and Enya sirened,

“May it be an evening star
Shines down upon you
May it be when darkness falls
Your heart will be true
You walk a lonely road
Oh, how far you are from home”

I was powerless. I took a long moment to deep breathe before knocking on my daughter’s door to a-a-a-ask h-h-h-er if she had any t-t-t-t-ow- ahem- t-t-towels she needed wa-wa-wa-wasssshhhhed.

I really believed I was going to be a stoic like a palace guard when it came to these months where a child’s departure from the home is imminent. I mean, this is precisely why we raise them, wreck them, build them, apologize to them, grow with and before them, and this leaving is a good sign that we did okay.

A thing I often hear people say of and to their aging children is, “I can’t wait to see what God is going to do with you.” I cringe every time I hear this, because I already know what life is going to do. Life is going to load my child up with failures, wrong turns, landmines, random trauma, disease, heartbreak, and unimaginable loss. And, what is God going to do? He is going to not waste a single bit of the agony and let it burn her up with a refining fire. I know he will redeem her life and bring it up from the pit. But, I also know there will be a pit. And so, I cry while washing towels. And I weep while driving to the store. I can wait to see what God is going to do with my child, even as I trust God implicitly.

Her name is Fireborn Faith. Ready to launch.

I Don’t Want to Sound Cliche, But

June 10, 2020

Nobody told me how much of my parenting time would be spent asking for five more minutes.

I’m on the phone. Give me five more minutes.

Please, please, please let them stay asleep for five more minutes.

I’ve been home from the grocery store, but I’m gonna sit in this driveway for five more minutes.

Can I PLEASE have some privacy in the bathroom? Just five minutes?

And then, suddenly…

Can you linger, please? Just five more minutes?

I look back at the past 18 years with children and catch my breath when I consider how fast the next 18 will go. Every cliche I ever heard about the speed of time has come true.

One cliche that I wish I had never visited is the one where little old ladies tell young Moms of toddlers to “Savor every minute. They are gone before you know it.” The cruelty of that constant remark was that I let it guilt me into feeling extra awful about bad days. “I yelled at them for spreading peanut butter on the toilet and never once told them that they are special, sniff sniff, and important, sniff, gulp, snort, and the very best thing that ever h-h-h-ha-ha-happened to me.. Waaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh” (And, seriously, when I was in that place, a single line from “Cat’s in the Cradle” by Jim Croce would end me.)

Time does go by so very fast. It does. If it is awful, it goes by fast. If it is wonderful, it goes by even faster. I don’t want to waste a minute of it worrying about whether I am savoring it enough. When that feeling wells up, I hope I remind myself to just savor the present without calling to mind every moment I failed to savor, because then I will have wasted a precious fleeting moment with Mom guilt instead of savoring it all.

Single Musical Notes | Free download on ClipArtMag

The cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man on the…

Stop it, Jim Croce. You stop it right now.