Big Days

Some say that your wedding day is the biggest day of your life.  And it is a big day.  It's the merging of two lives into one.  A huge commitment of forever to another person without any kind of real guarantees for the future except for invisible promises and a faith in God that He will hold you together.  You say your vows in hopes that you can live up to them.

It's been ten years since our big day.  Ten years feels like a milestone.  An accomplishment.

Like we made it to double-digits in marriage and we need a trophy, or a blue ribbon, or at least a Target gift card to replace wedding gifts that have broken or are rusting and worn out.

Before I got sick this year, our plan was to take a "tennymoon" road trip to Colorado, just the two of us.  Stay in a cheap hotel and see the sights and go on some grand adventures in the mountains.  But because of medical bills and missed work, and you know, LIFE, our big together trip didn't get to happen.  We ended up splurging what we had in savings for a weekend beach getaway instead.

We got to eat in restaurants like grown ups without having to pour salt on the table for our three old to eat to keep him quiet (and yes, we really do this) and we got to have conversations outside of the subject of all things Star Wars.  We ate shrimp and took "fun" naps and went shopping and walked on the beach and made out in the pool.  I read a book and drank a coke ICEE and wore a dress for the first time in a very long while.  We celebrated each other, our love, our making it through so many bad things and so many good things.

Looking back I would say that some of the biggest days of our lives had nothing to do with our wedding day.

The day we found out we were pregnant with Tommy.  Buying our first home.  The birth of our first son.  When I stepped out in faith and quit my full-time job.  The day I decided I didn't want to end our marriage.  The day Jacob  was born and our hearts were so full we thought we might explode.  The time Todd left his job in North Dakota and we stepped out in faith once again about what life was going to look like.  The life-changing sickness I went through this year.

And those are just the monumental things.  Because there are a thousand day-to-day things that make up a beautiful life together too.  Like dinners around the table as a family, the date nights that end at the grocery store, the knowing glances we share when our boys bring us joy.  Nights spent around the fire pit talking and making s'mores, playing outside in the rain and countless light saber fights in our living room.

Our wedding day wasn't the biggest day of our lives.  It was the beginning of something.  It was the prologue to our story which has held so many big days.  And even more smaller ones that has somehow made up one very big something.

Happy Anniversary sweetheart.  Here's to the next ten!

Nine years and new beginnings

Todd and I celebrated nine years of marriage this last Wednesday.  We reminisced about the past and anticipated the future like we do on most anniversary dates, this year at a quaint mexican restaurant.  Afterward, we found ourselves sitting by the Guadalupe River at a nearby park and later capped off the evening by treating ourselves to new pillows.

Clearly, we know how to partay.

In many ways, these nine years have flown.  Having kids has a way of speeding things up somehow because life is always measured in milestones and themed birthday parties.  Tommy is always counting down to the next thing, the next event, the next holiday.  Our little man always has to have a plan or know what the plan is -he relies on consistency and predictability. Right now we are counting down to his sixth birthday and our promise of spending the day at Six Flags with him.  And potty training our second child is looming in our near future and just thinking about it is enough for me to wish time could stand still. 

But at the start of our ninth year of marriage together, we have found ourselves in an unwanted season of transition.  A chapter in our lives that we have loved living and doing and being a part of is at its end.  And we are heartbroken.

There's no way to poetically write it or talk around it so I will just say the things that nobody really says when these things happen:  our church is falling apart.  Or at least, that's how we see it.  People are leaving.  Dear, dear friends that we have done life with and loved on and been in ministry with are moving on.  And we are devastated.  The how's and why's and who's are irrelevant really.  The fact of the matter is, churches and pastors and leaders and members - everything and everyone of us broken.  And sometimes that brokenness causes divisions and disagreements or bad decisions or just humans being extra humanly.  In short - it sucks.  It sucks so very much.

The evening we sat by the river, there was nothing but he and I, some huge cypress trees and the sound of the water flowing past.  I took this picture as it perfectly captures us, our marriage and how we fit together.  He with his camo crocs and me with my overly girly and sparkly sandals. So incredibly opposite but somehow we were made for each other.

Life is often going to hand us unexpected realities.  Chapters and seasons will come and go and many of them, like this one, we won't even see coming.  But we're in this thing together just like we vowed nine years ago.

Right now we are grieving. We are losing our church, our community, a sense of familiarity and comfort and predictability - some of those things that must go if we to continue to grow.  We are trusting by faith that God gives and takes away, and tears things down to only build something back up in its place.  Before each new beginning, there is always an ending.

I'm simply grateful that nine years into marriage, we are living our endings and new beginnings camo croc by sparkly sandal.  Side by side.

In sickness and in health.....

My wedding day, though nearly nine years ago, is still a vivid memory in my mind.  Soft, yellow sunflowers, love song melodies, a reading from Ecclesiastes, my dad's shaky arms as he walked me down the aisle, my Grandfather's tears.  But what I remember most is the look on my husband's face when we spoke our vows that day.  Those old, well-worn words - I could tell he meant them.  He was serious about what he was promising me that day.

For better or for worse.

For richer or for poorer.

In sickness and in health.

Forsaking all others.

Til death do us part.

Those words are so romantic and so real.  We opted for traditional vows rather than writing our own because I felt like those are the biggest promises - to be there.  To stay in even when the going gets rough.  To keep choosing the other person even if life is trying to offer you different choices.  When money doesn't flow like it used to or things feel awful or just mundane and you find yourself asking questions like "Are we really going to last?"  Or when you get sick and your body is broken and you have to lean on the other for tangible, physical support - nothing takes sexy and flirty out of a marriage like sickness.

My RA pain has been awful.  The mornings are the worst and starting my day usually begins with many challenges because my hands don't work and my knees and ankles feel like someone glued them with cement overnight.  And I get emotional on top of my inability to move correctly.  I'm frustrated with not being able to get my body going the way I'm wanting it to.

Every morning, Todd helps me put on my bra as my fingers aren't nimble enough for the small clips.  (TMI, but this is my reality).  On the really bad days, he helps me with my pants or blouse or shoes.  And every time he does these things I cry, and he will just hold me and tell me he's sorry.  I read sorrow in his face, knowing he would carry my pain for me if it were possible.

My tears come from this place of deep emotion where I am angry that I cannot do these things for myself.  I'm angry at myself, at my story, at my past.  Physical pain has a way of bringing to surface things that have been safely stored in the heart.  But the tears are more than anger too.  I feel deeply loved by this man in all of my misery and neediness.  He helps me with such care and gentleness and when I call myself useless or good-for-nothing or that I'm nothing but a burden to him because I can't get on my knees and give our son a bath or because I've had to ask him to clean our shower - he reminds me that he is here for all of this.  This is what he vowed, what he promised, and he meant it.

The same face he looked at me with when we spoke our vows, is the same face he gives me when he reminds me of what is true.

It seems that marriage is always full of give and take.  There is this constant ebb and flow where one has more to offer when the other is down for the count.  And maybe that's how it is supposed to be.  Lifting the other up when they can't do it for themselves.  Right now, it's his turn to hold me for a little while.  And this man I love....he does a really, really good job at holding true to his promises.

Even with all the pain, I am one very blessed, very loved and very cared for bride.

Eight Years

In a world where there are no guarantees, nothing certain, nothing lasting, I feel especially blessed to have celebrated eight years of marriage with my husband.

This year he brought me a small bouquet of flowers and two breakfast tacos at work.  His sweet and thoughtful gestures always leave me feeling loved and cared for and remembered.

We celebrated by going to our favorite steakhouse, Saltgrass and ended the night by seeing Godzilla at the movies.  Nothing says romance and anniversary celebration like Godzilla right?

This year was another low-key year as we have been tucking away what we can for our upcoming family vacation and Tommy's big 5th birthday party.  My heart is full of gratitude and love my for the man who continues to do life with me amidst all of the chaos, the ups and downs and the messy parts.  Happy eight years to us.

A good-for-the-soul kind of day

This might sound silly, but I've always felt closest to God when I'm at the beach.  I've been that way ever since I was a little girl and when we would take family trips to the coast every summer.  It was as if I could reach out and touch the horizon and He was right there within my grasp.  As I got older, I would take my Bible out to the balcony of whatever hotel we stayed at and read and pray.  I would watch the sun rise and listen to the waves and feel the sea breeze in my hair and it felt as though God was right there - embracing me, surrounding me.  It's always been "the" place for me.  And not just for enjoyment, but for rejuvination and rest.

On the car ride home from church yesterday, I began to cry for maybe the umpteenth time that weekend.  My heart was aching and I had a lot on my mind and I blurted out to Todd how my soul was needing the beach.  I wished we could go, even if just for a little while.  And I tried to talk myself out of what I was needing.  Because how silly to need to run to the coast for a few hours just so I could get this invisible God-hug.  I told him I thought it was a dumb idea anyway and I went silent.

We got home and I crawled into bed for our usual Sunday afternoon nap.  Todd came in a few minutes later and told me to get ready.  His parents were coming over to stay with the boys and he was going to drive me to the beach for the day.  He knew it was what I was needing.  Before I knew it, we were on the road with our Icee's and beach towels, heading south.

The second I could see the Cos-Way, I quickened with excitement and anticipation knowing that the waves and the water and sand were within reach.  As a little girl, that was the sight I always waited for.  I knew we were getting close whenever the giant bridge came in to view.

The moment I saw the water and heard the waves and smelled the air, I was ready to run to it.  My tired, achy, sad heart ran to God.  As I stood there taking in some of my most favorite scenery in the world, I thought about all of the many moments and seasons of my life where I ran.  When I was angry or hurting or confused and would run from Him and run hard.  I ran away a million times.  And if He has been doing anything in my heart the last few years, it's been creating a heart in me that still runs.  But instead of running away from Him, I'm running to Him.

And that's exactly what I did yesterday.  I ran to Him.  

I walked and I put my toes in the sand and I took in every crashing wave, every hue of blue in the sky, every seagull's song and I let myself feel embraced by this God who meets me at the horizon and reminds me not only that I am loved, but reminds me of who I am.

I could have stayed for hours.  I could have stayed all week maybe.  But even though I knew it was for a short time, it was absolutely everything that I was needing.

Todd and I walked along the shore for a good hour searching for seashells.  The kid in both of us still surged with excitement when we spotted a piece of sand dollar or a unique colored shell.  We brought them home with us, these fragile pieces of spontaneity and adventure.  A reminder of our day, a reminder of God's faithfulness to show up.  And a reminder of the love Todd has for me.

Wave after crashing wave, sand on my shoes, sun-kissed on my shoulders, I didn't want to leave.  

But I knew we had to.  My heart had it's perfect fill of the ocean's tide and the sound of the waves.  And of my Jesus who was faithful to meet me there and fill me back up again with His peace.

Before we headed back home, we stopped for dinner at our favorite restaurant in Port Aransas.  A little shack of a restaurant called Snoopy's. Sand on the floor, seabreeze-only air conditioning and some of the best shrimp you could ever eat.

They have an incredible view right on the water and we ate and remembered the other times we had come here, some with friends, others on random, spontaneous day trips to the beach much like the one we were having now.  We talked about how much we were looking forward to our family vacation this summer, and how we'd come back again with our boys.

I'm overwhelmed sometimes at the love this man has for me.  He knew what I was needing yesterday and went out of his way to make it happen for me.  He knows my heart well enough to know that a couple of hours spent on the beach is worth the time it took it took to get there.  That a few hours spent in the car together by ourselves was even what we were both needing together too.

It was a good-for-the-soul kind of day.  And I'm beyond grateful for not only knowing that I have a God who sees me and knows what I need, but a husband who does too.

Great Expectations

Ideally, Todd and I would like to get away alone together at least four times a year.  Maybe once a quarter where we could check out of life and kids and the daily routine and just be alone and reconnect and rekindle and renew, because marriage is always needing to re-something it seems. But, four times a year - who has the time or money for that?

A dear friend of mine offered to keep the boys for a weekend should we ever want to get away together, and since we were feeling the need for that re-something, we booked a hotel in Marble Falls, left the boys and ventured out, just the two of us.  I had been there once before in the spring - it was beautiful and show-offy with it's lakes and gorgeous Texas wildflowers and exciting outdoorsy restaurants.

As with any getaway I suppose, I had my own ideas and expectations of our time together.  I was envisioning wildflower photo shoots, a scenic hike at Inks Lake, dinner outside at a scenic restaurant, juicy steaks, lots of relaxing and sleeping in at our hotel, and long romantic walks.  And plenty of blogging fodder of course. Before we ever left, I had my own agenda.

When we arrived at our hotel I was immediately disappointed when I discovered that I didn't get the room I was promised.  We had two queen beds instead of the one huge king bed.  It was on the first floor.  It was right next to the lobby where we could hear everyone breakfasting over their waffles and bad coffee. 

The weather was cold and overcast that Saturday.  There was no dining outdoors since I brought nothing warm to wear.  I actually thought I could rough it when I snapped this picture.  And immediately after I took it, we asked for a table inside.  We went to see a movie, we walked around Walmart so I could find a new brush.  We perused some shops that contained over-priced boutique clothing and decorative items.

We discovered that Marble Falls wasn't nearly as big and scenic as we were expecting, and we spent all of Saturday watching movies and napping and almost feeling lost without anything to do or anyone to take care of.  It was both amazing and completely weird.

As with any time I spend alone with my husband, it was wonderful.  It's when we're alone that I most often feel the natural way we click together.  How doing nothing but laying on his chest in bed watching Indiana Jones is more delightful than any excursion I could ever plan for us.  And the time felt bittersweet.  Hard conversations, hard realizations and looking at how much "work" that has to go into making us, us.  It's work.  I don't want it to be work, I hate that it even feels like work, but yes, it's work.

Sunday, it stormed and our hiking plans were literally washed out.  And to my surprise, I dearly missed my boys and was ready to head home to see them.  I had originally thought Todd was going to have to drag me back kicking and screaming as I was in dire need of a mama-break as I thought I would need two weeks to myself and not just two days.

As we drove back home in the pouring rain, holding hands and quiet, I reflected on my expectations for the weekend.  The expectations of our room, of the weather, of the scenery, of the things we were going to do and how it was nothing like I had expected or planned for.  I remembered where my heart was two and a half years ago with wanting to be done with us, and how my perspective shifted when I began to love without expectation.  And when I did that, I saw how my husband had loved me like that for years.

I wasn't expecting to miss my boys and feel ready to head home.  Perhaps I needed to know I could miss them - especially Jacob.  After feeling discouraged and weary in motherhood for months, I needed to know my heart could miss that boy.  And I did.  And I never expected I'd feel that way come Sunday morning.

I didn't know I was needing another reminder about love and expectation, but the weekend showed me that I did.  And maybe our little mini-moon as I called it wasn't the re-everything that either of us had hoped it would be, but it reminded us that our love story our life together will always come with disappointments and surprising turns and quiet, lazy Saturdays to do nothing but be.  It will always be wildflowers and rain storms.

The Range is Hot

Last week was my birthday.  Apparently, I’m 33 now.  Or seven years away from 40 as I see it.  The up side of your birthday falling in the middle of the week is that you can stretch out the gifts and celebrations and get-togethers for a week, or even longer if you’re crafty.  Not that I do that or anything.

Come Saturday, we were still celebrating and Todd surprised me with a fun day-date out.  A long time ago I asked if he would take me shooting and show me how it’s done and could we maybe try out the world famous Saltlick restaurant.  I mean nothing says Happy Birthday like getting up close with firearms and barbecue sauce right?

Our first stop was to purchase some ear plugs.  And I have to laugh at myself, because I really can be the girliest of girls.  Me with my make-up and charm bracelet heading to a gun range where I most definitely don’t belong, going to shoot guns and stuff.

Todd drove us out to a little gun range somewhere in Redneckville, Texas, where several years ago he brought me once before.  I chickened out and threw something of a tantrum and had a meltdown about something and pouted in the truck until we left.  It was a horrible day and I was determined that this time I would:  #1 – not sabotage our fun day out and #2 – actually shoot a gun even though I was a wee bit freaked out.

Apparently, everyone else had the same idea about gun shooting that day and we had to wait a while for a spot to open up.  To start, I was a bit shaken by some of the guns people were shooting.  They may as well have been firing canons they were so loud – even through my ear plugs.   

Every so often though, the gun range-masters (who knew such a job existed, and also, THE GUN RANGE MASTER  sounds like the title of a western movie - just saying.) would declare a cease-fire and allow for people to adjust or set up new targets.  When everyone is off the field again, they declare that the range is hot and we are good to start to shooting.  I wanted to ask for the megaphone and be the one to declare that the range was hot again but I didn't think the range-master would let me.  They seemed to take their range mastering very seriously.

Todd is most definitely an expert when it comes to the world of guns and shooting so I knew I was in good hands even though things were exploding all around me.

After he showed me how to hold the rifle and what to be looking at through the scope, I felt pretty good.  I got the hang of it pretty quickly and was able to actually shoot my target.  I’m now convinced I could totally take down a deer should I ever brave the hunting scene with him one of these days.

Handguns were up next and I was both equally terrified as I was excited.  I was most certain I was going to be a natural like James Bond after my experience.  I mostly wanted to learn to shoot a handgun in case I ever found myself in a situation of needing to protect myself or my boys.

Unfortunately, I was not nearly as good as I thought I would be.  I hit the dirt a few times and was carelessly flailing the gun around without the safety on, which is a big no-no.  Todd was adamant about me paying attention to that – it was almost as if I could hurt someone or something, geez.  He kept telling me to relax, but seeing as I wasn’t in a bubble bath and instead holding a weapon that was capable of killing someone, there was no relaxing to be had.  But, seeing as I didn’t injure myself or anyone else, I considered it to be a pretty successful lesson overall.

I went first and Todd went after me.  I bet you can’t guess which target is mine and which belongs to my husband!

After our shooting adventure, we headed out to the barbecue place of barbecue places – the world renown Saltlick.   

We had to wait an hour and a half to get in, but it was so fun to sit down at this place we have heard and seen so much about.  Their smoke pit is legendary, and so is all of their delicious food.

We most definitely had our fill of meat galore.

Anytime Todd and I are able to veer away from the normal pace of life, I am always reminded how much I love and enjoy being with this man.  We laugh together and enjoy each other....we just fit.  And sometimes it takes a long wait for barbecue and a shooting lesson to be reminded of how great and wonderful our love really is.

It was a birthday for the memory books.   Here's to 33, to good barbecue and to trying new things.

On the same page

We rang in the new year quietly this year.  No friends, no fancy outfits, no adult beverages.  Just the two of us snuggled up in blankets on our couch waiting for midnight to come.  Jacob has been sick and Todd had to work late on New Year's Eve so we reluctantly stayed in. 

Before midnight though, we remembered the year behind us.  Interestingly enough, the best and worst moments of the year for the both of us were the same. 

The highlight of the year was how Todd arrived at the hospital just a half hour before Jacob was born - that God brought him home in time for the birth of our son.  Even in the moment, we marveled at the miracle of His timing.  How He was in to the details and He wasn't late.  Watching God come through like that - to give us that memory even though we prepared not to have it - was the biggest gift. 

The hardest moment that 2013 brought was leaving North Dakota and closing the door on what we thought was going to be this life-changing thing for us.  And I suppose our lives were still changed even in not moving, but the disappointment from that has shaken us.  Honestly, I think we are both still recovering from what we lost.  It's funny though because it was our decision to stay here in Texas, yet it still feels like a loss, as if something died.  I second guess our decision all of the time, but Todd remains strong in his certainty.  Even still, our hearts broke this year - in different ways for the both of us. 

We reflected how we just coasted through the year.  How Jacob has changed the dynamic of our family and life together, what has felt hard and what's been overwhelmingly rewarding.  But after North Dakota, we went into this default mode of just getting by again.  I realize how much we do this with disappointment.  We go back to the familiar and do that because it's all we know.  

We talked about our hopes and goals for the next year too.  Again, we named the same things.

In many ways, we felt like the two of us got by and survived the year together, but it felt reassuring to know that we were on the same page.  And that we have been all along. 

The new year though has come with life annoyances.  Like a sick, snotty baby with an ear infection.  My car is having issues and no telling yet if it's minor or major.  I caught myself telling someone this morning that "I would be better" if I knew my car wasn't going to require a huge and expensive repair.  I was immediately convicted of how I still search for joy in easy and pleasant circumstances.  I still distance myself from God when life doesn't go the way I want.  And I'm very aware how I can't change this quality in myself. 

Today, I'm grateful for the man I do life with.  The parts we coast through, the parts we struggle through, the parts that are fuller than full.  I wouldn't change 2013 for the world.  I'm hoping this year brings less coasting through and surviving, and more living and loving.

And that we stay on the same page....

Seven

Last year's anniversary celebration was so fun and romantic and full of adventure that we knew it would be hard to top it.  After all, we had much to celebrate especially since it had been the year that we had nearly fallen apart.  There was absolutely no chance of a getaway this year considering the way things worked out with North Dakota, which means absolutely zero vacation days for Todd the rest of the year. 

But last week, we tried to make the most of his grueling schedule and our limited together-time and headed off to a restaurant that is special for us.  We held our rehearsal dinner at a place called The Barn Door.  Maybe not the kind of location most would consider wedding rehearsal "elegant" - but Todd and I are more low-key and it suited us well.  I still remember that night - we all dressed in camo and had cut-outs of deer on the tables as decorations. Clearly, it was Todd-themed and casual - and I loved it.  We gathered our closest friends and family and we gave words and gifts to the people that meant the most to us and listened to their hearts for us too.  It was a sweet night I will treasure for always.  Going there to celebrate year seven of marriage just felt right.

We dined over some juicy steaks and reflected on the year behind us.  We thought about the special moments it held, how my pregnancy and Jacob and the North Dakota job changed so much for us.  How different life felt one year down the road from our last anniversary and that being parents of two feels much, much different than being parents of just one. 

In some ways the last year flew by.  And in others, the days were hard and long and struggle-filled.  And yet we looked at each other across the table and decided that the other was still the person that we wanted to do life with.

We talked about our hopes, our goals for the future - what we might like to see for year ten and where we might be three years from now.  We dreamed about a summer vacation next year, perhaps to Michigan to finally spend time with our much-missed friends there. 

But we caught ourselves dreaming.  About moving to New Braunfels (where we attend church and practically spend all our free time at now) at some point, about jobs, about things we wanted to do with our boys, about how we wanted to purpose to live in certain places, about adding on to our family later on.  Dreaming has never been something that has come easy for us.  We've usually been so discouraged by life and how things never work out and more often than not, we would sit and complain or talk about how life seems to work out for everyone else we knew and throw ourselves a pity-party.  True story. 

And even though we could easily add North Dakota to the list of things that didn't work out, that whole story has really done something in us.  We have become dreamers.

If year six was the year that God rescued us and held us together....year seven was the year he expanded our hearts and gave us the room to dream.

It is fun to wonder what might become of all of the dreaming.  Especially those that He has planted in our hearts....

Salt n' Peppa

Perhaps the very best date nights are the impromptu ones.  When you haven't gotten all dressed up or made big plans and had been looking forward to it for a week.

The spur of the moment dates that just happen out of the blue because you need to run and get a book and stop by the second job, and while we're at it, why don't we share a bowl of queso and get a half price shake at Sonic too and pretend like we're on some romantic excursion?  Errand running without the boys morphed into date night.  I was in shorts and my hair was up and it was casual and on the fly.  And I absolutely loved it.

It was a random outing and a much needed one.  Life seems to speed by so fast these days, that stealing time away together as a couple feels next to impossible.  I keep wondering why two kids feels like so many more than just one?  How adjusting to a new family member seems to take longer somehow?  Needless to say, we were both a bit grateful to have some adult time with no one needing to be fed or taken to the potty or told to eat all of their green beans.

Our seven year anniversary is days away and we spent the evening reflecting on where we've been in the last year.  How Jacob and North Dakota and God has changed up everything and we are still trying to pick up the pieces - especially Todd.  It has been hard watching him go through his own set of struggles with all of this.  The disappointment, the loss of a dream, and the hurt and anger he carries about all of it.

We talked some about life and what it feels like to share it together.  Sometimes I feel as though I keep running ahead.  I spent so much of my life unhappy and miserable and not living, that now, I get so caught up in living and going and doing and saying yes, that I often forget that we are sharing this life together and maybe I need to slow down a bit.  Maybe I need to let him catch up.  Or maybe I need to take a few steps back and come alongside of him - and wait.   

We're different, he and I.  We couldn't be more opposite.  But we go together - it works.  I may or may not have gotten totally cheesy at the restaurant and used salt and pepper shakers to make my point. (Which totally means that I did.)

I've been reflecting on what living might look like in the waiting.  Where I might need to slow it down for the sake of loving my husband well and caring for his heart.  Even though he might not know what exactly he needs from me right now, I can be there - be present, be with him.  I think God called me to be the one who will forever invite him out of the corner of life and onto the main floor.  God chose me for a role that means putting a face and a touch and tears and a voice to the invitations that God is constantly extending to him - to all of us really.  The best thing we can do for any person, especially our spouse, is to encourage them to be more of who they were created to be.  Remind them of the truth of who God is and who He says that we are in Him.

I remember reading this last year in the book "The Meaning of Marriage" by Timothy Keller.  He writes:

"If you don't see your mate's deep flaws and weaknesses and dependencies, you're not even in the game.  But if you don't get excited about the person your spouse has already grown into and will become, you aren't tapping into the power of marriage as spiritual friendship.  The goal is to see something absolutely ravishing that God is making of the beloved.  You see even now flashes of glory.  You want to help your spouse become the person God wants him or her to be."

Since meeting Todd back in 2005, I have always been able to notice those flashes of glory.  I think that's what drew me to him.  From the beginning it was obvious that Todd gave me parts of his heart that he never trusted anyone else with.  I have honored and cherished that about him.  And I know, that as his wife, my role is to spur him on and encourage him to be the man that God created him to be.  Not to so I'll have some ultra-awesome husband (though that is a bonus).  But because that's simply part of what marriage is.  Loving another undeserving, flawed, needy human being - it's a reflection of how much we are loved by the King.

Sometimes life and marriage feels like it's simply one struggle to the next though.  You make it over one hurdle and you find out that the next one is just right around the corner.  But at the same time, there is so much joy and passion and life and love in between all of it if you can stop to notice and acknowledge it.

And Saturday night, amidst the queso and conversation, we noticed.

I am grateful to do life with a man who desires joy, passion, life and love.  And who wants to share those things....with me.

He giveth and He taketh away....

From the very beginning, we saw God in this entire plan.  From the timing, to the job, even in our separation while we made this transition from Texas to North Dakota.  We felt complete peace about Todd taking this job even at the end of my pregnancy. 

To say that the last couple of months have been hard would be the understatement of the century.  I've had to heal from a c-section, take care of a newborn and a three year old, prepare a house to sell, and if I wanted to go anywhere, I had to ready myself plus two, all on my own.  I've been weary, exhausted, emotional, tired, angry, and overwhelmed.  But in all of it - in my weaknesses and weariness and aching for my husband - I've carried on.  For the first time in my life, I really stayed near to God while I was going through something hard rather than distancing myself from Him. 

I lost count of how many nights I sat up late crying out to God about how lonely I was.  How hard this felt and how I wanted to be done.  Could He even speed up time a little so the move would come faster and we could be a family again?  I needed and longed for my Savior in ways that I never have before - maybe because I've never had to.  I've started to wonder if God needed my heart to be this vulnerable and weak and needy so I could not only see Him, but to clearly see that His heart for me was good. 

Will you trust Me?

He asked me this months and months before the call for the job came.  And I only answered yes two days before.  I will trust you God.  You are able...

Since Todd left the very first time there has been one truth that God continued to remind me of.  I am with you!  Through every day - the messy ones where I've lost it with Tommy or never made it out of my pajamas or found myself ugly-crying to a dear friend - somehow, I was reminded of that truth.  That I wasn't alone.  He was with me in all of it.  I gave up control, I chose to trust, and I knew that I knew, He was with me in every grimy detail.

Could I still trust God if Todd didn't make it home in time for Jacob's birth?  I decided that I could.  I could because He knew my heart and knew what was best for me.  I was at peace knowing that Robin would be there if Todd couldn't make it in time - I wouldn't be alone and she would be there to hold my hand and witness the moment my son came in to the world.  But God.....He brought my man to me THIRTY minutes before Jacob came.  THIRTY minutes.  Only God could do that.  Todd was right on time.  And God was with me.

Could I still trust God if our house sat on the market for weeks?  Meaning that it would be even longer until we could be reunited in North Dakota and be a family again.  Our home sold in two days.  And the issues the buyers had with our soil (?!) was put to rest and everything was ready to go.

But then the story shifted unexpectedly.

Friday afternoon, our carefully planned out world began to unravel.  The last few months have been full of preparations to move away, uproot our lives and start anew in North Dakota.  I've been grieving all that I would lose, but I've also seen my husband come to life with the hope of a new job and career.  Even in all of my emotions, I was ready to do this.

Todd received some disappointing news that day, and we were faced with a monumental decision:  take some chances that could prove to be foolish, proceed with our plans to move away and uproot our lives under present conditions - or leave.  Come home knowing that he tried.   

By the end of the day, we both knew the answer was to leave and come home.  Yet, the decision didn't feel good or easy.  The only comfort we had was that we felt God was in Todd's going up there and we could most definitely felt Him in his leaving too.  Todd told me that maybe this job was only supposed to be a for a time and not forever like we thought.  After all, it allowed me to be on the bedrest I needed before Jacob was born and recover as well - things that we wouldn't have been able to figure out realistically with both of us working where we were.

God totally made that happen.

And now He was leading us out of North Dakota.  It was clear we needed to stay and not move away.  The invitation to trust God was there yet again.

Could I still trust God if He brought Todd home?  If he had to return to his old job that he hates?  If I had to find work again too?  And what would happen with our house?  Could I trust him if we lost that too?

Todd left North Dakota immediately after making the decision.  I got on the phone with our realtor finding out what we could do to save our house.  Was that even an option?  Were we bound to the agreement? 

Basically what I found out was that we were at the mercy of the buyers.  They would have to agree to terminate the contract, but it could cost us greatly.  If we terminated the contract on our own, we could face a potential lawsuit.  Todd and I made the decision to do what was right.  If we had to go through with the sale, then we would go through with the sale.  And according to our realtor, the buyers  really wanted our house.  In fact, the house hadn't even appraised for what we were selling it for and they still wanted to go through with it - paying for the overage out of their own pocket!  When I found out that news, I knew it would be a miracle if we could stay here.

Saturday morning as Todd was making the long trek home, I was sitting in my living room wondering if I was going to lose this house on top of everything else.  I sat there sobbing thinking of leaving here and having to find a place to rent, my mind reeling with possibilities and fears and disappointments. 

Can you trust Me if you lose the house?

I wanted to say yes.  But, this house.  My home....

I was on the phone with our realtor half a dozen times.  She was doing what she could to negotiate a deal with the buyers to let us out of the contract so we could keep our home.  As I sat there waiting for the phone to ring that last time, I surrendered in prayer, "Lord, this isn't our house.  It's Yours.  It's never really belonged to us.  I would love to stay here, God.  I love this place that You provided.  But if you take this house away, just like the job, I will still trust You.  I will be okay.  I trust that You have something better in mind.  It's just a house and I can make another place home if that's what You have for us."

And then the phone rang with the news.

The buyers agreed to terminate the contract.  They were very understanding about our situation and even agreed to accept only half of what they had put into the house in regards to fees and inspections - a sum that we were not expecting at all.  They had the right to ask for every penny, yet they didn't.  They didn't have to terminate the contract, but they did. They didn't have to be gracious, but they were.  Needless to say, I was blown away.

Later that morning I was in the shower sobbing with emotion.  We lost this job and we got to keep our house.  All of it felt amazing.  A song came to mind and I began singing the bridge to a worship song called "Blessed be Your Name."

Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful.....

Blessed be Your name when I'm found in the desert place.....

 

You give and take away, You give and take away

Still my heart will choose to say, Lord Blessed be Your Name!

It was in the shower, tears streaming down my face that I sang my heart out in worship and meant every word.  I praised Him for giving us the job.  And I praised Him for taking it away.  I praised Him for letting us keep our house and should we have lost it, I would have praised Him for that too.  He is the Giver, the Taker, the Knower of our needs, the Great Provider.  He is trustworthy.  He is the Great I AM.

I don't think I've ever been able to praise or thank God for a loss before.  That's never come easy for me.  Yet as I have journeyed with Him these last few months, He has strengthened and deepened my faith in ways I never could have imagined.  I knew that I was able to praise Him for taking this job away because of the work He has done in my heart. 

Losing this job means I'll need to find work again.  Even though I had wanted to stay home with my boys, I'm okay heading back to the workplace.  I feel grateful that God enabled me to have skills that I do so that I can work.  And to be honest, I'm not worried about finding employment because He knows what we need.

After all - God provided a job for Todd so I could be on bedrest and have a real maternity leave and a much needed break from working full time.  He brought my husband home thirty minutes before my son was born.  He has paid every bill and met every need.  He sold our house in two days and gave it back to us just as quickly.  I'm pretty sure He has the perfect job lined up for me soon too.

Needless to say, life has been a bit of a whirlwind.  None of this was expected or planned, yet we know we are right on time, right where we are supposed to be.  Planted and rooted right here.  Deep in the heart of Texas.  Home.

 

The prayer of my heart is that as a married couple and as a family, that we may always need for God.  It's in our neediness where we come to love and to trust Him.  And it's there where we find peace, contentment, joy and life abundant.

 

By the look on the face of my oldest son, I'd have to say we are experiencing life abundant indeed.  

A lost job.  A lost dream.  And a deep faith, a deep trust, and a wild ride with the God of the universe has our hearts, our home and our smiles filled with complete and utter joy.  To know God is to truly know what LIVING really is.

Amen.

Come to life

It's in the air today.  Everyone seems to be buzzing about spring.  Grateful for warm sunshine and blooming flowers and winter nearing its end.  I never tire of the changing of the seasons even if the changes are more subtle here in the south. 

The rosebud tree outside my living room window is budding with it's usual pink flowers before growing it's yearly leaves shaped like hearts.

I can smell spring blowing through my house this Wednesday afternoon.  The windows are open, the curtains making their in and out motions as the breeze comes and goes.  My heart feels full and content as I busy with housework and the unending organizing projects underway as this time next week, it will be on the market, strangers coming to look at my walls deciding if they want to make them their own.  Much of my heart feels blessed and at rest and peace.

Even my bedroom feels peaceful.  Four years living here and I just now have our bedroom the way I had envisioned years ago.  A beautiful new bedspread, and a piece of watercolor art that my Great-Grandmother Dorothy painted.  Thankfully I can take it all with me and put it in a new home.  But I love the way the light from the windows warms everything.  Makes it bright and inviting.  Romantic even.  Just like a master suite should be.

In all of the projects and even in the beauty of my newly decorated bedroom, sadness is present too.  Knowing this is my last spring here, my last March of warm sunshine and budding trees and sandals.  It's not even 30 degrees in North Dakota - snow on the ground, snow still coming.  Spring still weeks (and weeks) away.

Before Todd left again, we had dinner with some good friends from church.  Our friend Andy commented to me how different my husband was - he was chatty and had a lot to say about his new job and North Dakota and this adventure ahead of us.  "He's different, he has this new sparkle in his eye," Andy said.  I smiled hearing someone else observe what I've seen change in my man. 

I've watched my husband come to life right in front of my eyes with all of these changes.  A new job and career, something he can take pride in, and up north - the place where he feels most like himself.  He has a new energy in his step, a lightness in his voice.  I've fallen in love with him all over again just seeing him soften and sparkle in ways that I've only ever seen glimpses of before. 

My husband has waited long and hard and slow in winter's grasp.  Of evil's assault on his heart telling him he would never be more than what he was.  That he would be stuck, that he was forgotten, that he wasn't worth anything more.  But God....

But God is able to do exceedingly above more than we could ever think or imagine!  Oh how true, how magnificent, how wild is our God!  Like a fierce wind and changing of a season, He brought a long awaited and highly anticipated spring to my beloved.

Thank you Lord for change.  For creation and budding flowers, for warm sunlight, and for making all things new.  Thank you for spring and adventures and grand surprises at the work of Your hands.  May I remember this warmth and beauty and peace in the seasons that are ahead...

Two Days

He walked in the door at almost 1:00am Tuesday morning.  I wrapped my arms around him and felt his embrace and didn't want to let go again.  For two days - he was and is all mine.  It's amazing how I am able to sleep better because he is near me again.

Even though it's a short 48 hours, I needed this time.  I needed him.  I needed his face and his warmth and his nearness.

And so did Tommy.  He is thoroughly enjoying having his daddy back.  Though I'm dreading tomorrow and how he will be gone again when he wakes up in the morning.  I'll be left to care for my hurting, confused three year old that can't fully grasp what is going on, what we're doing and why we are not all together as the family he has always known.  Why dad has to be in North Dakota and not here.  And how I don't have the answers as to when we will be all together again - permanently - either.

We had some alone time together last night.  We sat at Chili's and started dreaming over our Dr Peppers - about where we might live and what we needed to do to get the house sold.  What life might be like in this place I've never been to.  The possibilities and and things we can do - like how he will be able to take the boys hunting for snow geese and pheasants and white-tail deer.  How we can build snowmen and make snow angels in the winter and enjoy windows-open weather far more often there than we ever could here.  Though my heart has begun aching for all that I will be leaving behind, to dream with my husband, to really dream about things that are really happening for us - it felt really, really good.

Tomorrow morning, long before the sun rises, he will be gone again.  Driving back up to this place without us to continue training and work and making plans and preparations for his family.  Leaving us, leaving me behind on Valentine's Day.  It's hard and I feel sad.  Dreading the lonely that will once again fill the house with his absence.

But the rest of the day.....the rest of the day, he is here.  He is ours.  He is with us.  And I'm grateful to have this little bit of time.

Changing normal

After work yesterday, Todd and I came home and got dinner started. He put some burgers on the grill while I prepared the trimmings.  One of the perks to living in south Texas is that January can sometimes mean spring-like temperatures, which is definitely the case this week.  Burgers sounded like the perfect thing to have on a south Texas "winter's" night.

Tommy kept running back and forth, from inside to outside, wanting to be with both of us at the same time.  Our evening was normal - our normal.  Where we enjoy our little family and talk about our day, eat a simple meal, and check a thing or two off of the baby-is-almost-here list.

But last night felt extra special.  Probably because the normal that we've known for so long is about to change.  It was the very last Monday that will look like having us both home after work, Tommy's energy bounding through the house and the backyard.

This time next week my husband will be in North Dakota and I will more than likely be sitting at my desk at work wiping away tears and trying to think about anything but his departure and how many miles are separating us.

The long-awaited, much anticipated job that we have been hoping for Todd has finally come through.  Only, it's looked different, much different, than we had originally thought it would.  There is much excitement in the air, though I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't just as equally terrified about the whole thing too.

Todd sent me a text message yesterday telling me that he had turned in all of his paperwork at his current job to begin his leave of absence, making this even more real.  I've been absorbing all of this in waves, finding myself feeling excited and at peace one moment, and crying the next.  All of this has come with more tears and aching than I thought it would, considering the timing of it all.  It's the end of my pregnancy and so close to the birth of Jacob....and now my husband, my beloved, has to leave.

This is the thing that has come with tears and tissues and trust and many late night conversations. Todd is taking a new job - leaving the safety and security and the predictability of the work that he has known for TWENTY-SIX years - and taking a huge leap into something new.  An endeavor that could possibly have us packing for northern country by the summer, if not sooner.  But an endeavor that will allow him growth and the challenge he longs for and the ability to provide for us the way he has always wanted to.

In the last week, I've watched my husband come alive.  He has filled with excitement and hope and something new inside.  I see a spark inside of him starting to grow even though I know he has his own share of fears about what we are doing and what is all changing.  I have fiercely prayed for this - for change and a new job and for more for my man.  For years.  Years.  And while it's always amazing to see God an answer a prayer, those answers can come at the oddest times or in ways that you wouldn't expect.  Todd leaving me in the third trimester of pregnancy and on my own with our three year old son, isn't exactly how I would have wanted God to answer this particular prayer.  And yet His ways are mysterious and glorious and somehow all of this will be as it's supposed to.

It's quite risky.  There are pro's and con's on both sides, but at the end of the day we have both felt God's leading in this direction.  Even though this comes at a cost, especially his absence for Tommy and I for a season, we both feel at peace about taking these first steps that are in front of us right now.  Even if it may eventually lead us all the way to North Dakota.  Which is very, very far away from Texas and all that we have known here for our entire lives. 

Todd will be back before Jacob is born.  He is making sure that I am cared for and looked out for in his absence as he has talked to his dad and my dad and friends at church and given them all instructions and asked for their help.  We are hoping that the wonders of technology will allow Tommy to still see Todd even if it is just over a computer screen.  For all of these things, I am grateful.

The last several days have been full of affection.  Of extra long embraces and kisses.  And the next several days are sure to be full of more of the same.  Our lives are about to to completely change and be turned upside down by this new job and a baby and so many other things.

So for now, I'm going to soak in the lasts of the normalcy we've known for six and a half years, cry when the waves of sadness or fear come, and lean on my crazy, wild, surprising God who is leading us into what could be the adventure of a lifetime.