long live


Long live date night.

Long live pillow talk.

Long live dual dish duty.

Long live walks at dusk.

Long live hand holding.

Long live book discussions.

Long live happy hour.

Long live ice cream runs.

Long live Office marathons.

Long live this institution of marriage.

flashback

Me, circa 2010

As I was reading through the archives of my old blog - paying a quick tribute to college Lauren, I stumbled across a post that took me by surprise:

I’ve never been in love.

Maybe once or twice in a Taylor-Swifty-I-can-only-see-the-next-five-minutes kind of way.


And then once in a maybe-this-is-love-but-it-was-actually-something-else kind of way.


But those don’t count. If anything, they reaffirm that I have yet to be in love.
And I’m excited. I don’t particularly have a timeline for my life. I used to think I understood how my life would fall, the order of events that would transpire as I grew. But all that plan has taught me is that I shouldn’t really make concrete plans at all.


There are so many things that I’m excited for today. The upcoming holiday, seeing snow for the first time this season, seeing Christmas lights explode about the neighborhood.


And bigger things as well. Being able to introduce a man as my husband. Making dinner for two. Holding my child for the first time. Playing tooth fairy.


But those are plans, aren’t they? Ben Gibbard wrote in his song “What Sarah Said”: “And it came to me then, that every plan, is a tiny prayer to father time.”


The truth in those lines astounds me. My grandfather used to say “Lord Willing” before his verbs. I found it so frustrating, a waste of words. Mostly I just wanted my plans to transpire, to be able to go to Disneyworld if I wanted to go.


But plans are like the wind. So quick to appear and so immediate to shift. Besides, some of the best moments of my life took place because of broken plans.


God makes better plans anyway.


So I’m excited to see what he has up his sleeve. For us to take this next step together. For him to once again throw my plans out the window.


. . .

How funny to read that now and have the answers to so many of the questions circling around my heart then. I now know the man I'll spend my days with. After nine months, I still love introducing him as my husband. No children yet, but I know whose eyes I hope they have, and the man that will help me parent them.

I also noticed something else - a sense of adventure that I've lost touch with these past few months. In college, I took so much pleasure in the unknown. It thrilled me.

Now, it frightens me.

I think I'm frightened, because I have something so precious to protect - something I can't bear to loose. I can't imagine adding children to that equation. My poor mother. I have a small inkling to how much she's worried all these years.

But being afraid takes all the hope out of life. Fear doesn't leave room for the pleasantly unexpected, it's too busy blocking out the future. And I don't like living that way. I envy my college self - the sheer simplicity the future seemed to represent.

The verse, "Perfect love casts out fear," (1 John 4:18) keeps floating through my head. I keep it pinned on my bulletin board. Nothing is truer. I trust perfect love - and I want to keep trusting Him with my future. Whatever it may bring.

Thanks college Lauren, for reminding me of hope's crucial role in the seeking of joy.

what this taught me - marriage edition




I have a single friend who always says, "Don't tell me marriage is work. Being single is work."

I think she has a point.

That isn't to say marriage isn't work, it is.

It is a day in, day out, challenge. But I think of the alternative - coming home to an empty apartment. Not snuggling with someone in bed each morning. Eating all the leftovers myself. Having to deal with a lousy air-conditioner all on my own. Not having someone to dream with, plan with, cry with.

And I am suddenly very, very thankful. And the work seems very much worth it.

Photo by Paul Norman Photography

friday favorites



1. mid-week dinner dates (the good conversation, can't stop talking, "Me too!" kind)

2. surprise doughnut holes at work

3. taxes done early

4. hints of spring in the air

5. group fitness classes

she & he: february



He is completely stoked for grad school, and has been studying for the GRE all month.

She is getting better at not interrupting him.

She is nuts about The Bachelor. (She realizes that most of it is fake, but especially loves Sean & Catherine)

He humors her.

They are so ready to redo their tiny TINY backyard with new furniture and a flower bed.

Grilling season can't come fast enough.

He thinks there is no such thing as "Grilling Season."

She has a seasonal cookbook.

Spring can't come fast enough. 



Post inspired by Elise Cripe's blog, Enjoy it.
Her "She & He" posts here

back at it

I used to blog. I used to blog here.

I started then for the same reason I'm re-starting now. I wanted to write. I wanted to contribute. I wanted to put words and pictures in a place that I could re-visit.

But I stopped because I lost that drive. I was lost in general. I was living in a foreign country, far away from my people, struggling to survive the day to day. Writing about it was like re-living it. And I was having a hard time living it in the first place. I kept writing in my journal, but I missed hitting "Publish."

There is power in that.

So I'm back. Two years later, and I have more direction. I have more purpose.
And I am so ready to write.