The blog home of speaker and writer Mindy von Atzigen

The blog home of speaker and writer Mindy von Atzigen I am a lover of words, Jesus, and His church. I am also a wife, a mom, and a friend. I hope you'll consider me yours...

The Mystery of One Flesh

"And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again."   - 2 Corinthians 5:15

Sometimes it helps to put Scripture in a personal context.  "And he died for me, that I should no longer live for myself but for him who died for me and was raised again."

It also sometimes helps to focus on only a few words.  "That I should no longer live for myself, but for Him."

I understand this best when I look at my life as a single woman compared to my life as it is joined with another human, creating that mysterious "one flesh."

Before I was married, my choices were just that.  They were mine.  If they stayed that way after marriage, we would definitely have a problem.

Out of love and honor for him, I consult my husband on anything important, and often on things seemingly unimportant.  Out of love and honor for me, he does the same.  Just this morning, as I passed through the living room and saw him in his recliner with his fuzzy morning hair and cup of coffee in hand, I was overcome with the thought, "There's not another person in the world I would rather have joined myself to."  And that is exactly what I've done.  I've joined myself to him.  I am no longer one person making my own choices.  I am half of one flesh, as we make our choices. 

And Paul says it is the same for Christ and His church (Ephesians 5:31-32), which means I am joined to Jesus in the same way.  I no longer live for myself, but for Him.

He has already laid down His life for me, tenderly illustrating His passionate love for me on an intensely painful cross.  He has already proven His ability to be trusted, gloriously defeating sin and the grave through the resurrection.

Oh, my Jesus.  Such a glorious King.  Such a trusted friend.  Such a tender lover of my soul.

Truly, there's not another person in the world I would rather have joined myself to

Because that is true, why would I live any other way than for Him?  What could possibly be gained by living for myself?  How could I make even one decision on my own, without considering His desires? 

Out of love and honor for Him, I must not forget that I am no longer one person making my choices, but half of one flesh with the One who loves me most.

"And he died for me, that I should no longer live for myself but for him who died for me and was raised again."

"All Things New" Winners

Thanks to all those who entered the giveaway!  Here are the 3 winners:

* Steven Dale Alen
* Hunter Crawford
* Brandi Wilson

Congratulations, friends!

"All Things New" Giveaway

The post on Failing Forward gave me the desire to give away a few copies of our cd, "All Things New."  If you'd like to know more about the project, you can find it in the sidebar.  If you already have a copy for yourself, it could make a great Christmas present for someone you love.

To enter to win one of three cds, please submit your email address in the sign-up link to the right.  This will also cause you to receive an email in your inbox when there is a new post in "Treasure the Ordinary."

When you click "submit," there will be a confirmation link sent to your email account.  You will simply need to click on it to be registered.

You must be registered by Tuesday, November 22, to be entered into the drawing.  I will announce the winners the following day, Wednesday, November 23.

Blessings to you and yours this holiday season!

Failing Forward

“It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”
Theadore Roosevelt
“Citizenship in a Republic,”
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910

I love this quote.  I love it because it's true.  I love it because it's bold.  I love it because it makes me feel better about the many failures in my life.

In thirty-five years of living, I've managed to make quite a few mistakes.  Small ones.  Big ones.  Massive ones.  I've made all kinds.

And while the addage is true that I am not the sum of my mistakes, it is also true that I am the sum of what I have learned from them.

For, over the course of this journey of my life, there has been someone who loves me walking beside me, holding my hand, whispering in my ear.  He is not repulsed by my failures.  I think He may actually have chuckled at a few of them.  He is not put off by my humanity, my weakness, or my shortcomings.  Rather, He is proud that I have lived life in such a manner as to take enough risks to have even made mistakes.  And He will deal with the rest, slowly honing the rugged into the beautiful, gently wooing the stubborn spots into His hands so He can shape them with His goodness.

The only way I can truly fail is to leave the path where He is and strike out on my own.  And I've learned enough through the course of my life to know I will never reach my destination without Him.  On my own, I can't even choose the right check-out lane at Wal-Mart.  How would I live apart from Him?

At the end of my years on this earth, if I have stayed beside Him, with my hand in His, then all my failures will have been turned to work for my good.  They can't help but do it because He makes all things new and all things beautiful.

For My Husband On His Birthday

My husband turns thirty-seven tomorrow.  I can remember spending an hour in the card section of the drugstore in college, debating on which card to give him for his twentieth birthday.  We were just friends at the time, with a hint of something more.  I wanted to give him a card that said "I notice you," but didn't want to be too forward and have it say, "I NOTICE YOU."  And then there was how to sign it.  Love, Mindy?  Your Friend, Mindy? Sincerely, Mindy?


For a girl who always fancied herself to have the heart of Jane Austen, it seemed like a bit of defeat when I just signed, "Mindy," but it makes me smile now.


It was the spring of a relationship.  All new.  A little nerve-racking.  Quite a bit of adventure.


I never could have understood then what I now know for fact-- that every year he has aged has brought me more to cherish, to honor, and to respect.  I loved the college boy with all my nineteen year old heart, and yet I love the thirty-seven year old man with all of the heart of the not-so-far-behind-him-in-age, the one that has grown and changed and learned what true love is because of his presence.


It is, after all, this man who has laughed with me over jokes no one else would think funny.


It is this man who took the time to discover my wounds and then stayed to see them healed.


It is this man who has called me beautiful until I became it.


It is this man who has prayed for my children with the same heart of love for them that beats in my chest.


It is this man whose life looks more like Jesus than anyone else I know.


And it is this man who still takes my breath away when our eyes meet across a crowded room.


After our daughter skipped out of the room with her toothless smile tonight, I put my hand on my heart and told him I wished I could pause the passage of time and just live in this now for awhile.  He grinned at me and said, "Why would we do that?  It just keeps getting better."


My thoughts on his life, exactly.



New Season, New Grace

It had been a while since I'd heard the hurried steps of a child across the kitchen floor in the middle of the night, the sound of urgency unmistakable.  It didn't matter, though.  My ears were still trained.  I was awake and had the covers thrown back by the time his feet hit the threshold of our room.  His brother was sick and needed me.

I spent the next hour helping my teenager get over the hurdle of a middle-of-the-night tummy bug and made sure he was comfortable on the couch close to the bathroom and within earshot before I found my way back to my bed.  I was up with him again a few hours later, bringing him a drink to swallow down the Tylenol for his fever.

As I smoothed back his hair, I reflected on how seldom I have to do that sort of thing for him anymore.  When my baby came into my life, he needed me for every bite of food, every diaper to change, and every blanket to ward off a chill.  But, he's not a baby anymore, and the infant cries for help have long since passed.

And as I tucked him in and left him to rest, I pondered his new needs and my ability to comprehend them.  When he was young, his needs were obvious, and I couldn't miss them.  Now that he's older, am I as quick to recognize what he needs from me?  Because he still needs me, just in very different ways.

Instead of spoon-feeding him his meals, he needs me to challenge him to take in the Word of God on a regular basis, sharing with Him what God is showing me as I do the same.

Instead of the dreaded diaper duty, he needs me to gently point out when his attitude needs changing, modeling for him what it looks like to choose joy instead of irritation.

Instead of covering him up in the middle of the night, he needs me to blanket him with prayer as he heads out of our home on a daily basis to face things I still find myself wishing I could shield him from.

Instead of making all his choices for him, he needs me to allow him room to grow and take risks, while still offering wisdom in just the right places.

And I pray that I don't miss his need for all the little moments of conversation, the engaging of one heart to another--- that I will see the offers he presents to me to enter his world.  He won't be crying out for attention at the top of his lungs anymore, yet, his needs are no less important now than when he was an infant. 

And I want to continue to do the sacrifice of parenthood, and do it well.  To be able to lay down my life for another.  It's easy to know I would sacrifice my life in one fell swoop if it meant saving his, but not as easy when I realize that most laying down of the life occurs one tiny moment at a time.

May all our tiny moments be covered by the Father of all Fathers, for He is able to help us to see each one for what it truly is--an invitation to grace.