The post-wedding weight has arrived. Before Christmas, I wrote about the topic of marriage and weight gain. You can't tell me I wasn't warned. Well, it's here ... my post-wedding 10 is making my pants fit uncomfortably snug. I felt a little better the other day after talking to a friend. She, too, had put on some weight after marriage. "I was eating the same portions as my husband was, and we usually ate late at night."

My husband, Kevin, and I haven't succeeded at establishing any super-healthy habits yet. We love spending time together. And during the heart of winter when outside activites are not an option, and with varying work hours that prevent us from going to the gym together, getting fit seems ... well ... hard. So, at the moment, I'm focusing on healthy eating.

Have you run into this problem (a problem, ironically, caused by lack of running)? How can you get motivated together to establish healthy eating and exercise habits? What things work for busy couples?

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character."

I share that dream for my three little children, a dream explored in the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s most deservedly influential speech.

Why has MLK's speech endured? Why are we hearing excerpts of it today on TV and talk radio? Because it's true: While skin color, ethnicity, cultural heritage, and the such are of some interest, those things ultimately define neither us nor our neighbors.

Today, as I remember the work of Rev. King, I'm finding my very understanding of "race" challenged. Maybe I need to move beyond the concept of "race relations," perhaps even doing away with using the term "race" altogether, at least as it's typically defined. After all, what if this premise -- that "race" is even relevant -- is the very obstacle keeping us from true reconciliation, from making peace with those who look different from us?

If you're intrigued by any of this, I challenge you to read the following four-part series by Thabiti Anyabwile and leave your comments below. If you're on Facebook, I'd further challenge you to share these articles there, with the hopes of extending this discussion outside of the Focus on the Family community.

• Race Relations: Rethinking Christian Identity (share)
• Race Relations: Six Problems with 'Race' (share)
• Race Relations: Moving Forward (share)
• Race Relations: Live It (share)

I found myself thinking last night about differences between expressions of praise that are beautiful and crafty, and those that are clumsy and seemingly uninspired. Naturally I'm drawn to the former and sometimes tolerate the latter.

I can appreciate well-executed art, especially if it's godward. I love to hear a good Christian band get in a worship groove. I'm moved by well-crafted essays or poems that explore the grace of God and how fathomless His great love is in spite of my sin. I can't help but think that Handel's "Messiah" is the pinnacle of worship.

But then my thoughts go back some 15 years to a weekend retreat I attended during my days in undergrad....

A group of us from the college InterVarsity group were out of town together, spending the night in a church. Bedding and backpacks were spread throughout the sanctuary and adjoining classrooms; friends were gathered here and there to talk about the Lord, or about football. It was fairly late and I had already crawled into my sleeping bag. A friend was reading her Bible a few sleeping bags away, and began singing quietly. Her voice was sweet, but painfully out of tune. As she continued singing gently her adoration to the Lord, I was moved by her simple faith and honesty and tender passion for who the Lord was and what He'd done for her. And 15 years later, I still remember the time I drifted off to sleep in the presence of pure grateful out-of-tune worship.

And that makes me want to reevaluate my criteria for "good worship." Scripture speaks of a "joyful noise," and how it's good to make one. The heart of worship is more significant than the tone of worship.

I'm reminded of something G.K. Chesterton wrote a century ago: "If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly." It's better to make a fool of yourself engaging the Lord than to play it cool and remain disengaged.

And I'm reminded of a song Chris Tomlin wrote a few years ago, "The Way I Was Made," which includes the lines:

I want to live like there's no tomorrow
I want to dance like no one's around
I want to sing like nobody's listening
Before I lay my body down

An out of tune melody, an awkward moment of grateful sobbing, a simplistic song, the seemingly purposeless pouring of perfume on Someone's feet ... can all honor the Lord if the heart is true. Beautiful, intricate works of art may honor the Lord, yes, but a grateful heart poorly expressed pleases Him no less than Handel.

May I look to engage the Lord more truly and passionately, at the expense of my being seen as credible or sophisticated. And may I not be so quick to look down on others' godward expressions just because I happen to find them unpleasant.

New years always make me want to simplify my life.

As a newlywed (since September), my guest room, garage, car, kitchen and closets are currently a disaster. [The picture depicts what happens when I actually clean—I learn that I have much more chapstick and dental floss than I need!] The main thing I want to do right now is spend quality time with my husband. However, there comes a time when you have to take care of other things. And Steve Watters brings this out in his article "Clear Decks." He talks about how one of his college professors, Dr. Hubert Morken, used the term "clear the decks" as a metaphor for good time management. Watters writes:

During a recent visit I asked him where he got that phrase. "It's an ancient term that told sailors to get ready for action," he explained. When the captain told them to clear the decks, they would stow their hammocks, put away any tables, chairs or other loose items and make sure there was nothing cluttering the deck. He made the connection to the need to clear out any clutter in his personal life that might keep him from being ready for action.

It was something that C.S. Lewis said that challenged him to apply "clear decks" to his use of time. "Lewis encourages us to do an inventory of our time. He says there are things we have to do — like working a job or parenting kids, things we ought to do like exercise or care for the needy and things we want to do like read or explore a hobby. The problem however, is that when we look closely it's astonishing how much we do that doesn't fit any of those categories." This motivated Dr. Morken to attack wasted time — to keep his decks clear for important things.

Attack wasted time. That's the main thing I need to do in the new year. Why is important to clutter-proof your life and be intentional with your time? Stewardship. If your time is filled with useless activity and a fog of things needing to get done, you will most likely miss opportunities for real service that God has for you. Watters concludes:

As you think about your own life, look for every opportunity to get rid of clutter — and perhaps even big, important things that have become obstacles — in order to be available for action and opportunity in God's kingdom. Whatever it is that might be holding you back, be willing to trust God's commands as the captain of your ship. You never know what adventures are ahead when he calls out to you, "Clear the decks!"

That's a worthy goal for the new year.

What's the difference between Christians and canoes? Canoes tip.

Anyone who's ever waited tables at some point in their lives usually ends up being a good tipper. The same is true for me. I have no trouble leaving generous tips because I know too well the low hourly wage of waitstaff. I actually enjoy big tipping. Other Christians, however, seem to have trouble letting go of the extra dollar or two that would make for a decent gratuity.

ThinkChristian blog has a good read on Christians and tipping, responding to a hyperbolic (but true) statement about legendary Christian cheapskatedness.

I recently encountered [a] blog post by Christian psychologist Richard Beck. He writes, provocatively, "The single most damaging phenomenon to the witness of Christianity in America today is the collective behavior of the Sunday morning lunch crowd. Never has a more well-dressed, entitled, dismissive, haughty or cheap collection of Christians been seen on the face of the earth." He admits that he exaggerates, but I agree with him that he has a point.

Though I’ve never been a restaurant server, I’ve seen this complaint before: the after-church crowd are rude, demanding and stingy. Ever since I heard about this, I’ve become more conscious of the way I treat service workers. My sense of Sabbath makes me feel a little guilty about eating out on Sundays at all, but I’ll admit I do it anyway, sometimes in large groups. These large group, split the check situations are notorious for tipping problems, it’s complicated math, you think maybe somebody else will make up for you if you short the bill a little.

I'll bet if you listen closely, you can hear the whisper of a collective groan every Sunday afternoon rising from restaurants across America saying, "the after-church crowd." So before you head off to the Golden Corral remember the Golden Rule: "Do to others what you would have them do to you." And as for tipping, I won't go into Scripture on this subject. There really isn't any. It's just that God is so generous to us. And that makes me want to be generous too.

While we were at my in-laws for Thanksgiving my mother-in-law gave me a giant box of my husband's Christmas ornaments dating back to his first Christmas. She also threw in some other decorations that she doesn't use anymore like a "Charlie Brown" type Christmas tree, a wreath, two strands of white lights and 10 ft of aspen swag. I hadn't planned on purchasing Christmas decorations this year since we'll be moving soon, but her hand-me-down decorations ignited my inner decorator.

The next day I woke up to a living room full of unorganized Christmas decorations and being a little Type A, I went immediately to work sorting and planning. My husband Brian had to spend the day working on an assignment for school, so I told myself I would only get things organized and would wait for him to really decorate. But being Type A it's hard to start a job and not finish it, so I did "a little more" and "a little more" until there was nothing left to do.

I vacuumed up the tree needles and looked around at my work. The decorations were fine and the living room was clean again, but I had a sinking feeling that I had missed out on something special. I had just decorated for our first Christmas together alone.

When we were engaged I was convicted that I prized efficiency more than Brian. Since then I've learned that loving my husband is worth a little wasted time. (For example, drinking coffee with him in the morning instead of cleaning up the breakfast dishes or running errands together that I could easily have run by myself.) But this thing with the tree was the first time that I felt I'd missed out because of my own efficiency.

Brian came home that evening saying how great the Christmas tree looked and how cozy the apartment felt all lit up. He doesn't particularly like decorating, so he was fine to just enjoy my work. But I knew what decorating could have been. We could have listened to Bing Crosby and drank hot chocolate while Brian told me about his childhood ornaments. It probably wouldn't have been magical, but I'm sure it would have been special nonetheless.

I said that this is the first time I've missed out because of my sick need love for efficiency, but the more I reflect on it I think I miss out a lot. This Christmas as I continue to look for ways to steward my time welI, I'm also keeping an eye out for opportunities to "waste" some time with my husband.

When I got married two months ago, my now-husband and I decided to write our own vows. After all, what kind of writer would I be if I didn't pen original vows?

It turned out that Kevin had already written vows as a school project during his semester at the Focus Leadership Institute. Together we made them our own, and then we agreed to each write several original lines that would be unique to our vows to the other person. As I pondered what to write, I considered what I felt my personal call to my soon-to-be husband would be.

One thing I had learned about Kevin is that he is a dreamer. And many of his dreams are God-given, such as his desire to be a children's pastor. Something I know about myself is that while I too can dream, I have a realistic side (I am an editor) that immediately sees potential obstacles and problems. Because of this, my tendency can be to "shoot down" dreams with realism. Even in our courtship days, I recognized the power and potential problem of this combination. On one hand, I am the person that can help my husband brainstorm his dreams and make them reality through practical steps -- or I can crush them in a single moment.

God helped me to recognize my calling -- to use my powers for good, as it were. To use my gifts and the way God created me to help my husband thrive in who he is in Christ. And so I wrote the following in my vows:

I will respect you and your leadership in our home.
I will seek to protect and nourish your dreams.

This is a high calling, I believe. God has entrusted another person's dreams and passions to my care. And I believe I must be a good steward of those. There have already been times when I have failed miserably. There have been other times where I have succeeded brilliantly. My goal is to be a godly asset to my husband at all times, and more importantly, be a tool God uses to help Kevin attain his God-given dreams.

How has God uniquely created you to support or refine your spouse? How does your husband or wife do this for you?