“Lord Willing”

March 14, 2010 at 1:30 am (interviews, Purity, Singleness) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Ana Marie’s Story

Abigail writes:  When Lauren and Nathaniel started attending a church in Tulsa, they were attracted to the love of the brethren and the fellowship they found.  So was another family that started attending about the same time—Ana Marie’s.  Over the last several years, Lauren has gotten to know Ana Marie and in the few times I have visited, Ana Marie has reached out to me, as well.   We’ve both been encouraged by Ana Marie and her desire to use her single years for the glory of God.  Incidentally, a few months back I had one of those “aha” moments when I suddenly realized where I’d seen Ana Marie before.  On the chance that any of you were once readers of HopeChest magazine, so was I—and so was Ana Marie!

Pearls & Diamonds:  What do you say when someone asks “So, what kind of job do you have?”

Ana Marie: For the past 2+ years, I have worked as an assistant to my father who is the Director of Administration at Literacy & Evangelism International. I have the privilege of doing routine financial work to enable him to focus on various other tasks. My work also includes researching/purchasing office supplies. Another job I enjoy is teaching violin, currently at Saied Music Studios. Occasionally, I have the opportunity to work election polls and do some babysitting. Entrepreneurship is an interest of mine, and I hope to run my own businesses from home.

P & D:  How did the Lord woo you and bring you to Himself?

AM: When I was 6 years old, I would daily write things I was sorry for in a “Sorry Book”. On one of those days, my mom explained to me the need for forgiveness and that God was the only One Who could grant the forgiveness I sought. That day, I understood what Jesus had done to save me from my sins, and accepted His payment for them. Since then, doubts about my salvation have come and gone, but it is reassuring to know that God’s grasp on His children is greater than their faith, and nothing will snatch them out of His hand. As I consider the growth He has accomplished in my life, I know that He continually works in me to conform me more to His image. Realizing that His work in me will be carried on till completion is a great comfort when I am discouraged with my own failures.

P & D: What does it mean to you to be a sensible, pure worker at home?

AM: For me, this means contentedly embracing the sphere God has placed me in and not running from the difficulties in it. Home may be the hardest place to serve, but it is the place I must learn to be content in if I am ever to be content anywhere else. How should a grown daughter in her parents’ home live? Good question! It is one I am studying myself these days.

P & D: Do you hope to marry and keep a home someday?  What inspired your desire to marry and keep a home? How are you preparing for marriage now?

AM: Definitely! However, I must preface that by saying “Lord willing.” It is an issue I seek to leave in His hand. Over the years, my desire for marriage has progressed from immature fantasy to (I hope) more mature consideration of the topic (such as how to prepare myself for being a godly wife and mother). I must rein in my desires, knowing that God brings along the right seasons at the right time. I credit Him with growing the hope for a family someday in my heart. Over the years, He has increased my appreciation for godly homemaking. The greatest preparation for me is growing in character and trust in the Lord. As I spend time with Him and seek to glorify Him in my thoughts, actions, and relationships, I am preparing to glorify Him in a future marriage and family.

Books such as Female Piety by John Angell James and The Family by J.R. Miller have helped me understand God-honoring womanhood and family life, respectively. These are reading material I highly recommend!


P & D:  How does a single woman balance a desire for marriage and preparation for that with keeping focused on the Lord and keeping your heart pure?  What are some ways you recommend for finding encouragement and focus?

AM: A big part of living pure lives, especially in the season of singleness, is filling our time with the right things. Spending excessive amounts of time watching movies, reading novels, and talking with girlfriends about guys is a sure way to nurture inappropriate thoughts. I have made decisions to not watch certain movies or read certain books or listen to certain music based on romantic content that may have led my mind the wrong way. I have also limited my reading of material on purity and courtship. While commitment to a godly approach to marriage is important, much time spent reading courtship stories can foster discontentment and impure thinking. Not everyone struggles with the same things, so it is important to evaluate your own tendencies and struggles. Ruthlessly refrain from or eliminate from your life those things and activities that could lead you to wrong thoughts. This is not about rules and regulations. This is about guarding our hearts for the glory of the Lord and honor of our future husbands.

It isn’t enough just to decide what not to do. Fill your time with worthwhile pursuits. Learn as much as you can about valuable topics. Develop skills. Start businesses. Mentor and be mentored. Build relationships. Serve. Read books that can teach you important things. Think deeply about things and journal your ideas/thoughts/lessons. Memorize Scripture. I have made New Years Goals for many years, but then promptly forgot about them. This year, I wrote down specific things I want to accomplish and posted the list on my blog. This provides some accountability, and though I may not achieve everything, I most likely will accomplish more than I would have without a public list. Now, I have something I can review every month, and my blog readers see my progress. Consider what method for accountability would serve you best, and then go for it!


P & D: Did you have examples of godly women that you look up to? How influential were your parents in your life and life choices? Are they influential in your purity battle?

AM: I have been blessed by several friends who have motivated me to pursue God’s best for my singleness. One friend would, during my teen years, regularly (almost every time we met) ask what God was teaching me. This motivated me to keep studying His Word so that I would not be without an answer! Friends who ask important (and sometimes hard) questions are a great asset.

My parents have been valuable companions in my quest for purity. Though it is the hardest thing to do, I have found peace and strength in sharing my struggles with them. Knowing that my dad knows how to pray for me is a source of encouragement to me.



P & D: How are you spending your single years?  Do you have any regrets?  What would you encourage younger women to pursue during this time?

AM: I am by far not a great example of how to spend one’s single years! The ideals I have had in my mind have not been fully accomplished. However, when I am tempted to be discouraged, I need to remember that God has ordained my path. Walking with and growing in Him is the main thing. My “accomplishments” do not matter that much. When evaluating my previous years, I wish that I would have fought the battle for purity with more zeal. I wish that I would have studied Scripture and academics more earnestly. I wish that I would have persevered in a schedule that it became an almost unshakeable routine. These are some things I would urge other girls to make priorities in their single years. I am grateful that God never gives up on me and has given me more time to grow in these areas.

P & D: What does “purity” mean to you?  Have you ever felt like you failed your own standards?  How did you deal with feelings of “failure”?

AM: According to the Webster’s 1828 dictionary, purity is “freedom from guilt or the defilement of sin; innocence; as purity of heart or life” and “freedom from any sinister or improper views; as the purity of motives or designs” among other definitions. Truly, a life of purity is a life of true freedom – the freedom from enslavement to sin. Because Jesus Christ washed me clean from my sin, I can walk in freedom from sin and pursue a life of purity. If you have not been set free from sin by Christ’s payment for them, this is where you must start. You will never be able to live purely without His cleansing.

I have found my motives to be one place where the battle for purity must be zealously fought. A few times, I have felt really guilty for certain things I did which maybe didn’t look wrong to anyone else, but I knew my motives were impure. Confessing those instances to my dad brought freedom.

P & D: What does it mean to you to treat young men as brothers in Christ?  How does this practically work itself into relationships?  Have your relationships with your own brothers been encouraging in this area?  How do you seek to avoid “defrauding”?

AM: Another area for me to work on! I am so grateful that God gave me brothers. It is definitely a good idea to not see each young man you meet as a potential suitor :-). It is beneficial to see each young man as someone else’s future husband. Seek to eliminate stumbling blocks for them as much as you can.

We should be careful about what we expose young men to. Is there anything in that picture (that I would so much like to post on Facebook) that could cause a guy to stumble? Is there anything in the way I carry myself that could attract inappropriate attention? Is my speech liable to cause their thoughts to go in a direction they shouldn’t? It is better to be too cautious than to cause our brothers to stumble. (Note: I do not believe that girls are the only ones to blame for guy’s thoughts, but do think it is important that we not allow ourselves freedoms which could ensnare them. This is a way to demonstrate godly love and care for the souls of others. Romans 13:8-15:7)

I sometimes think about what I want to save for my future husband alone. I try to guard the thoughts and hopes that I share when in mixed company. I think emotional and mental purity are as (if not more) valuable as physical purity. Being too open about feelings, hopes, and dreams when in the company of young men could result in regret for not saving those secrets for your future husband. Sharing your heart results in a kind of attachment to the one’s you share it with.


P & D:  Anything else? Feel free to share anything that’s on your heart!

AM: The battle for purity is worth fighting! You will never reach perfection in this area, but you will not regret pursuing a pure heart, mind, and life. Make the most of every opportunity to love the Lord. Live life today in a way that would enable you to have a beautiful pure love story someday.

We encourage you to visit Ana Marie’s personal blog and the family blog she updates!  In fact, here’s a couple of places you might like to start:

Pondering Death

Valentine’s Day is coming up on Thursday.  While the world focuses on an imitation of true love and pleasures which soon fade away, what should Christians focus on?  This week, I will be pondering death.

Pondering Love

What is love?  Is it a feeling?  Is it deeply caring for someone?  Is it knowing you can’t live without someone?  Is it being willing to die for someone?  Is it something indescribeable?

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The Three Weavers

September 9, 2008 at 8:19 am (Singleness) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Posted by Abigail

…in days of old there lived three men who made their living by weaving cloth for the mantles of others. Their small-but-tidy houses stood side by side on the pebbled street of a flourishing city and their fortunes had been so intertwined that whatever took place under the roof of one, happened under the roofs of all. But though trained in the same art they were as different in character as three close friends could be.

“I always weave my webs the same length,” Herthold confided to the other two. “There is no use wasting time measuring each man, when I know the size which a perfect mantle should be.”

“Don’t you get weary with always weaving the same size? What if you run out of the proper color of warp or woof? It is much more convenient just to end the web there.” Insisted Hubert, for it was well-known that he wove his whims into his fabric and then stretched or cut afterward to fit whoever would buy.

Hildgardmar shook his head sorrowfully and returned to his work. Carefully and painstakingly, he measured first the man and then the web by the inches and ells of his carefully marked yardstick. He knew the stature of those around him and his reward was his own satisfaction at the perfection with which each cloak fit the shoulders of the man for whom it had been made.

In this pattern of similar fortunes, each man took a wife and later each became the father of a tiny daughter. Thus were born Hertha, Huberta and Hildegarde.

One evening a short time later, the three friends sat together under the sparkling stars discussing the future. There was a lull in the conversation as each father mulled over the mysterious message he’d received a few days before.

Finally, Herthold spoke up: “Friends, rejoice with me! Wonderful fortune has befallen me and mine. Perhaps you know that the fairy of all the weavers was present today for my Hertha’s christening? she left a beautiful gift beside the cradle: a tiny loom, fashioned of the purest gold. And a wonderful promise, to boot!”

Even as Herthold spoke, his two friends exchanged knowing glances, for, you must know, that what had happened under the roof of one had happened under the roofs of all. The fairy had made her appearance at the christenings of the three wee maidens, and left beside each cradle a tiny, golden loom with the same foretelling for each: that a prince would come to seek her hand.

“Think of it!” Hubert laughed, boisterously. “I, the father of a queen!”

Herthold added, “It’s a good thing children provide for their parents in old age. I should have a comfortable retirement.”

“Gently now, friends,” Hildgardmar reminded them. “What if our daughters cannot fulfill the required conditions?”

The three men fell silent thought, the fairy’s parting words echoing in the halls of each man’s memory. “One thing is necessary: Your daughter must weave upon this loom a mantle fit for the prince’s wearing. It must be ample and fine, cloth of gold and woven in rainbow hues, and of princely size and shape. Many will come to claim it, for your daughter will be fair and charming, but if it is woven rightly, it shall be the guide by which she may measure her suitors. And when the prince comes, it will fit him in all faultlessness, as the falcon’s feathers fit the falcon. But if it should not be ample and fine, worthy of royalty, the prince will refuse to don it and the maiden’s heart will break.”

Herthold sighed heavily. “It is a grievous task to give a small girl. Mine shall know naught of the loom until she is old enough to weave with skill and style. I’ll not waste my time with a child who will be constantly distracted by childish fancies. Until then, I’ll lock it away where she cannot destroy such good fortune with her folly.”

“What an old worrywart you are!” Hubert scoffed. “It is not as if the fairy has asked her to weave straw into gold. Besides, I am sure it is all a joke—you saw the loom. It could never make a mantle large enough to cover a man’s head, much less his shoulders. It is only a toy. Besides, what is written is written and I can’t change the outcome of fate. I have good fortune coming and I plan on celebrating!”

Hildegardmar said little, but his mind was busy long afterward. Often as his wife would come to bring him his lunch, she would hear him speaking to himself over the clacking of his wooden shuttle. “Upon the correct weaving of this mantle lies my precious daughter’s whole future.” Clackety, clack. “I must teach her to weave with care and give her a standard to measure by.”

…and the girls grew like the summer wildflowers. One day as they strung daisies together, Huberta said to the other two, “I have a loom made of solid gold in a little tower off of my room.”

“Don’t be silly,” Hertha retorted. “A loom of gold would belong to a princess.”

Undaunted, Huberta continued. “I have one and you do too. So does Hildegarde. A fairy gave them to the three of us at our christening and said a prince will come to wed us if we weave a mantle for him.”

“I don’t believe you,” Hertha snapped. “I never heard of such a loom, and I don’t believe it is true, or else my father would surely have told me.”

Hildegarde interposed, “If it is true, Huberta, just show us the loom.”

Silently the three girls stole into the weaver’s house and through Huberta’s room until they stood beside a doorway, standing half-open. Entering the room they saw, against the wall, a small loom of pure gold that had grown with Huberta’s growth and fit her as if made only for her. The golden warp was the fairy’s gift, but the thread of the shuttle was of her own spinning—from the airy dreams of a maiden’s fancy. Huberta ran her fingers over the smooth gold, and motioned to the beginning of a mantle. “See? Already I have begun.” She seized the shuttle as she spoke and crossed the threads of a rosy-daydream with the golden warp.

Hertha and Hildegarde watched in silent envy, their eyes following the glowing threads as they crossed in and out of the beautiful pattern, bounding and leaping like summer clouds. But soon they were drawn to a new wonder: in front of the loom so as to reflect through the window, hung an exquisite mirror in which the shadows of the world passed by. As they watched a curly-headed shepherd lad passed by in the street, his knobby staff held aloft like the a scepter.

“See that shepherd lad?” Huberta laughed. “Doesn’t he look a prince with his head held high and his crook in his hand like a scepter? Are you surprised that I am at my loom both sunrise and sunset to see him passing by?”

Hertha shook her head and pointed. “That long-haired page is more my style. He looks almost noble dressed in velvet with a feathered cap! I wonder why my father has said nothing to me of the angel’s marvelous gift. I too, should be at my loom and weaving. I’m as old as you are!”

Hildegarde clapped her hands. “I too!”

Huberta shrugged her shoulders. “Why don’t you ask your father? Perhaps he has forgotten.”

Hertha was not long in reaching her home, and sought her father as he busily weaved the same pattern he always used. Timidly she crept to his side and stood with downcast eyes until he paused. “Father, where is my loom? Huberta has already begun and I, too, would like to be weaving for my prince.”

Herthold leaped from his stool, sending the shuttle clattering. “Hertha, listen to me! Never again must you listen to such idle fairy tales. When you are grown, I will call you and then I will teach you the art of weaving, but not a moment sooner. I am ashamed that my daughter would indulge in such foolish fantasies.” He turned stormily back to his weaving, leaving a confused Hertha to creep away to her room, where she threw herself on her bed and wept violently. “My father must not love me,” she whimpered into her blankets. “But someday my prince will.” Suddenly she stood and walked resolutely to the wall, feeling behind a rich tapestry that adorned it until her fingers closed around the doorknob of a secret room. Inside she found a golden loom filled with shining thread and a mirror in which the shadows of the world passed by. Smiling through her tears, Hertha took hold of the shuttle to send the first woof thread shimmering through the warp, and as she did so the long-haired page hurried past, clutching his velvet cap. “How like a prince he is! My father is a tyrant to forbid me such a simple pleasure as weaving. How can it harm me?”

At the same time, little Hildegarde stood before her father patiently measured a web by the silver yardstick he kept near him. “Is it true, dear father, what Huberta says about our looms? After I saw her loom, I pushed back the bolt to an inner room from mine and there I found such a loom as hers, and a fascinating mirror. I want badly begin my mantle, but I crave your permission and your advice, since you are a more experienced weaver than I.”

Hildegarde’s father laid down his yardstick and placed his hands on his small daughter’s shoulders. Smiling tenderly he answered, “I have often looked foreword to this day, my little one, although I did not think you would come so soon with your questions. It’s true. On the right weaving of this web depends the happiness of you as well as your descendents. It’s a dangerous gift the fairy left you, for that mirror will tempt you to weave to fit the shifting shadows. But listen to your father who has never yet deceived you: keep always by your side this silver yardstick for it marks the inches and ells to which the stature of a prince must measure. Not until the web cloth fully equals it can it be safely taken from the loom. You are young and the loom small, but it is a marvelous gift that lengthens with your growth until you can hold it up against the yardstick and find that it measures to the last inch the size demanded by a prince’s noble stature. You will often be dazzled by the mirror’s sights, and youths will come to you begging, ‘Give me the royal mantle, Hildegarde–I am your prince.’ Do not be persuaded to cut it loose and give it him. Weave patientlyuntil you have fashioned a web that will fit your prince faultlessly.”

With a quick impulse, Hildegarde threw her arms around her father’s neck. Then Hildegardmar took up the yardstick in one hand, and his daughter by the other and led her into the inner chamber where her golden loom awaited. He hung the sterling yardstick next to the tempting mirror, laid her hands on the shuttle and left her with his blessing, to weave.

Hertha grew tall and lovely, treading the house with the airy grace of youth, yet fearing her father’s disapproval she fled more and more often to the inner chamber where she worked in secret, hoping for a glimpse of “her” page. She called him a prince in her thoughts and was sure that, clothed in the mantle she wove he would soon appear as royal as she perceived him.

Huberta laughed brazenly about her web and the prince she hoped to capture with it. Her father often teased her while she sat by him at his weaving. “Is that your prince?” But he never went with her into the inner room so he never knew that she cut the strands of one year’s weaving and gave the cloak to the curly-headed shepherd lad. But Huberta saw other figures in her mirror which pleased her fickle fancy and she began another web.

Years passed by, Huberta scattering favors to whoever would call her “darling” and Hertha, faithful to the page. Hildegarde worked carefully under her father’s guidance, weaving intricate patterns of rose and gold. One day a face flashed across her mirror, so noble and earnest that she started back, her heart fluttering in her bosom. “Father! Surely it’s him!”

“My daughter,” old Hildgarmar said gently. “He only measures as an ordinary man. You are still young. Weave on and you shall fashion a royal web. This is not the one for you.”

Obediently Hildegarde went back to her weaving, and watched in silence as the man disappeared from her mirror. Again time swept over the figures of the weaving maidens, and spring came bringing restlessness to Hildegarde’s heart. The face that crossed her mirror this time was bold and brave, decked with plumes and glittering with a silver helmet. She knew how lovely her mantle would look spread across his broad, mail-clad shoulders and hastened to her father to plead his blessing. “Father, a knight in shining armor has come to me and asked me for the mantle. Measured by your yardstick it would fit him faultlessly.”

Hildgardemar followed his daughter into the inner room and stood for a long time looking into the mirror at the shining stranger. Then he held up the yardstick and shook his head. “It fits only because you are not yet ready to wed a prince. See? Your mantle reaches only to the size of a knight. A knight may seem noble, my daughter, but he lacks a handbreadth of full stature and you must weave that handbreadth for the wearing of a prince.”

Tears sprang to Hildegarde’s eyes. “But father, suppose the prince should never come? Suppose I should give up the one destined for me and be left forever to weave in solitude?”

Tenderly, Hildgardmar took his daughter in his arms. “I am an old man, Hildegarde, knowing far more of the world than you, my daughter. Better to weave forever, than to settle for a man who does not measure up. Have patience just a little longer. In another year, think of the mantle you will have made!”

With a bowed head Hildegarde returned to her work. As the tempting images rose before her in the mirror, she turned her eyes to the yardstick and wove on.

…when the maidens had all three grown into tall and beautiful women that a prince came riding into the village and, stopping before the house of Hubert, asked him for the hand of his daughter. With a bow and a flourish, Hubert vanished to seek her in the garden. “Well, Huberta, your prince has finally come. Run and get your royal mantle. It must be splendid after weaving all these years!” When she returned with a small, shimmering cloth over one arm, Hubert was startled by its pigmy size. “Is this a jest?”

Hanging her head, Huberta answered, “I—I have already given a few mantles away.

I have no more of the golden thread the fairy left me.”

Hubert rubbed his chin, his brow knit in thought. “Surely it is no worse than what many another has done. No doubt you were only passing time and meant nothing serious by your favors. Besides, it’s still a mantle. Only an unreasonable prince would expect a beautiful girl to wait forever for him.”

Together Hubert and his daughter bore the small out to where the prince stood waiting. When he saw them approaching, he bounded eagerly forward to receive from the maiden’s hand his cloak, but his face fell as she held it up before him. He gazed deeply into Huberta’s beautiful eyes and sadly shook his head. Turning his back on her, he mounted his horse and rode from that house forever. The dwarf mantle fell from the shocked Huberta’s hands and she covered her face and sank to her knees and wept until her heart broke.

The same day a prince approached the house of Herthold and dismounted. Entering, he found Herthold studiously at work, and requested his daughter’s hand in marriage. Herthold rose abruptly and answered, “Have you come at last? Excellent. My daughter is as rare a jewel as you could desire. Wait one moment.” He walked briskly to the doorway leading to the garden and called for his daughter. When she did not answer, he ascended the stairs toward her room and met her halfway, her face downcast and blushing. “Your prince has come!” Herthold explained, seizing her hand and leading his unwilling daughter into the room from which she’d just come. “We must make haste!” But even as he said this his eye fell on the loom, standing empty by the far wall. “What is the meaning of this?”

Defiantly, Hertha raised her head. “If you mean to teach me to weave, you’re too late. Since you scorned me as foolish I wove in secret, and when my prince came long ago, I gave him the mantle. Look! See him?”

The astonished Herthold turned his eyes from the loom to the window, where he saw the long-haired page standing eagerly, clothed in the mantle which Hertha had woven for him. In a rage, Herthold tore the mantle from the lad’s shoulders and dragged his daughter downstairs. But the prince looked contemptuously on the mantle, the angry father and the resistant daughter. Without a word, he left the house, mounted his horse and left the town at a gallop. Standing brokenly in the doorway, Hertha saw her adored page, now stripped of the princely robe which her fond imagining had woven around him. She saw his unworthy shoulders against those of the retreating prince and with a cry she flung her mantle at her father’s feet, screaming in agony as her heart broke.

Then came a gallant prince to the humble abode of Hildgardemar, and entered the house to seek permission to claim his bride. Hildgardmar looked long and carefully at the young prince, then nodded to his daughter who sat by his side. With a pounding heart she dashed up the stairs to her room and clipped the golden threads that held her now-finished mantle in the loom. For a brief instant she gazed at herself in the mirror, her eyes running over the silver yardstick as she held her web before her. “It measures!” she breathed in a tone of awe. “So perfect!” With the mantle in her hand she returned to offer her gift to the prince. He knelt at once so that she could spread it across his shoulders and, glancing shyly into his face, she observed with wonder that her weaving fit him faultlessly. The prince took her hand in his and led her outside to his waiting horse. As her father assisted her to mount behind her prince he whispered, “Farewell, my daughter. Because you kept in view the silver yardstick which I gave you, even in childhood, because not even one golden thread of the golden thread was squandered on another, because you waited cheerfully and patiently until your womanly fingers had woven the best that lay in your womanly heart, may all happiness be yours! Receive it as your fitting crown!” Then Hildegarde stooped to kiss her father, and with his blessing crowning her lovely brow, she rode away behind the prince. With tears in his eyes, Hildgardemar watched, knowing that her life would be filled with joy and love as it had been written.

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