Why Are You Dating?

The birthday festivities continued into the weekend. We danced, we dined-- it was marvelous. Afterward Brady and I headed to my parents for yet another game night. I stayed downstairs with the high schoolers reveling in their teenage drama and the fact that they'll look back one day and have a face palm moment. 

Was I really ever so naive to believe that I knew everything?

I know that when I was 16 I whole heartedly believed that I was ready for adult responsibility. That I could get married, settle down, start a family-- and I could have. But I'm glad I didn't. I was still figuring out who I was at 16 I don't know how I intended to contribute anything meaningful (other than feelings) to a relationship.

My parents got married when they were young and unestablished. For so long I believed that was how you were supposed to do it. By the time I was 18 I felt like an old maid--it depressed me because I felt like I was supposed to have my life all pieced together by then... much like my parents. What I failed to take into account was my parents relationship in their first 6 years of marriage. It was terribly hard. Divorce was contemplated. Two kids that hadn't even figured themselves out entered into an adult union.

Growing up was forced instead of gradual. 

God inevitably intervened and my parents are still together but if he hadn't. Things were headed downhill fast. There is no telling where we'd all be today. There probably wouldn't be seven of us. I know I wouldn't have the same view of marriage that I do today.

My point-- there is so much pressure, when you're a girl in high school, to date, to be in a relationship, to find your "soul mate". My perspective--the perspective of a former teenager-- I don't think it's smart to date in high school-- if you're looking for a spouse. I think it is best to wait until your hormones have calmed down and your brain is running the show instead of your heart (Jeremiah 17:9).

Sure. There are people who meet in high school, get married, and spend the rest of their lives together. I'm not saying it doesn't work. I just think it makes it harder in the beginning. It absolutely makes it harder to stay pure. If you meet the love of your life when you're a freshman you better be walking pretty close to Jesus because the next four years are going to be rough and at 14 you don't really have the option to marry instead of burn with passion (1 Corinthians 7:9). At 14 there is pretty much only burning.

When I was 16 I had a boyfriend who I wanted to marry. It would have been awful if we did. We were two completely different people-- though we sure did love each other a lot. Love is not enough to make it work. If there are no common goals or interests-- if Christ is not the center of your relationship and life. It doesn't work. Don't even let your heart go there (Proverbs 4:23).

"In whatever man does without God, he must fail miserably or succeed even more miserably." *George McDonald

There was a four year period of time where I struggled to move on. The heart is really a deceitful, wicked, thing (Jeremiah 17:9). I almost missed out on the best thing that has ever happened to me because of it. I was still talking to my ex when I met Brady. I very quickly realized that if I wanted to be in a healthy relationship with anyone I had to permanently sever ties.

It wasn't easy and that is why I love speaking to the younger generation about these things. Because I've been there. Because my parents have been there. Because history loves to repeat itself. Because no matter how much that 14 year old boy tells you he loves you--you are still not ready to marry him and he is still not ready to marry you. And if neither one of you are in a position to get married-- why are you dating?

Wreck

My house is a wreck. It looks like that tornado hit us after all. It started with Brady leaving his dumpster finds scattered around the living room and it ended with me literally not keeping house for a week and a half. I've been a bad house keeper lately...



There are piles of folded laundry covering the couch along with two baskets that still need to be folded, dishes piled so high in the sink that one more plate might send the whole disaster crashing to the floor, clothes at the foot of our bed that need to be hung in the closet, and then there are the random piles-- baby clothes, baby blankets, baby toys... my house has never been so messy.



I started my work on the kitchen this morning after Availeth went down for her mid-morning nap. There were so many dishes that I ran out of hot water before I finished so I sat down with a glass of ice water and a lot on my mind. I'm giving myself 15 minutes--to let the water heat back up--before I go to work again.



There is something about doing dishes that makes me very philosophical. The thoughts I have while doing the dishes rival the thoughts I have in the shower--which are always very deep and meaningful. I reflect on life while I scrub or sometimes I sing show tunes--both very good things.



On Easter morning I slipped into the shower expecting Brady to follow and got glimpse of my new hair do in the mirror. Which reminds me of Liza Minnelli, who in turn reminded me of how much I love Cabaret, and how hard I studied with my vocal coach in California to learn all of the German in Mein Herr... which reminded me how much I love to sing in German and then there was no stopping me.

In the car on the way to church Brady told me he was glad he didn't get in with me because then I would have never gotten out.



It's true. The two of us in there together is bad news because I become a silly goose. Singing louder and more enthusiastically which in turn encourages Brady to get silly and sing silly things with me--and then we're locked in this silly battle with silly voices and faces and bubbles. Lots of bubbles.



We're awesome. But we don't get a lot accomplished most days.

Hilarious picture I took the day before Easter. Spot the bunny?

Which brings me back to my wreck of a house.



Which I really should be tending to now instead of dilly dallying on the computer.




Auf wiedersehen, mein Herr.

Grow Together Or Apart

There is something sacred about the darkness, the stillness, and the silence that comes with night time. Brady and I lay together as close as we can get in the quite-- whispering things about our day, our dreams--tomorrow. I always want to have this time with him. Night time.



I will purpose my days to give him my nights.



I thought I was in love when we got married but if that was love than this is so so much more than love.



There is no piece of me that is hidden from him. He has seen it all. More than I was comfortable with at times but all nonetheless. The most affirming experience of my life was when he vowed to take the bad--the ugly--the not nice stuff--not just so he could get the good-- but because he wanted it. He was jealous for it. Because it was a part of me.



And any part of me to him is exquisitely good.



He is the strongest, kindest, gentlest human being I've ever known. No one compares. There is no competition. There is no doubt in my mind that every piece of him was made for every piece of me. He complements my madness. He thinks I'm hilarious. He likes what I look like without makeup. He likes to pepper kisses all over my face.



He gives me so much more than I deserve. Brady lays down his life for me like Christ laid down his life for the church. He continually sacrifices his wants and needs to serve me, to please me, to show me love in the most tangible and intangible ways.



It is my deepest hope that one day he can say that I've given him just as much life as he's given me.



One of my darkest moments was the day Avey was born. Getting wheeled in for a c-section after having meticulously planned an all natural birth and finding out that our baby was sick. That we weren't going to be able to take her home with us-- she wasn't even allowed to stay in the same room as us-- we had to leave and she had to stay.



He was there for the ugly tears. He was there for the showers that I was too weak to take by myself. He was there to wedge himself into a twin size hospital bed with me because I needed to be held. He was there to help me get to the bathroom because I couldn't do it by myself. He wheeled me to and from the nicu a million times. He reminded me to eat. He made a breast pumping schedule and cleaned all the little pieces after every use. Massaged tired muscles, refilled my water cup 1235983209581 times, held my hand, delivered milk to the nicu at 2am, and told me that everything was going to be okay--until I believed him.



We had the choice to grow together or grow apart. He didn't hesitate and neither did I.



The way he loved me during that time was so healing.

I am excited for our future and where we're heading. I know that no matter what comes my way I'll be able to face it with him by my side. God blessed me with such an incredible gift and I am so thankful.

It's Exciting!

After rifling through property after property after our offer on the duplex was declined I came across 22 acres of land in Trenton, Tx. Brady was on the phone when I found it and I did the potty dance as I anxiously waited to tell him what I found.





I acted cool when he finally got off his call. "I'm going to buy this for you." I stated as I turned the computer screen around listed off the details of the property.





Thus began the daydreaming. Going to bed is useless because we stay up talking about all the possibilities. We stay up until we can't keep our eyes open any longer, until we're too tired to talk or plan or dream.





“I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve. But I was outside the Bagdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes. 

After that I liked jazz music. 

Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way."
― Donald Miller

I never wanted to live in the country. I never wanted cows, or goats, or chickens. I never wanted to live anywhere but a cookie cutter home in a cookie cutter neighborhood in a cookie cutter town.





I want it now.

"Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way."

Part of being married is falling in love with someone else's dreams so deeply that they become your own. Watching Brady love teaches me how to love things that I never thought I would. 


It's exciting. 

A few thoughts on weddings and engagements...

Brady and I said our vows on January 8, 2011, just seven short days after deciding that it was time to become husband and wife. There wasn't a 20,000 dollar wedding budget, a chapel, or a wedding party, but a desperate man, and a desperate woman ready to become one.

On January 1st Brady and I were in Oklahoma getting ready for his older brothers wedding. We were both in the wedding party and were due to arrive at the church earlier than the rest of the guests. We decided that we were not going to wait till May to get married on the drive to the church.

The rest of the day was a blur. His brothers wedding was beautiful but it was hard to focus when all I could think about was the decision we had both made. Being the impulsive person I am I wanted to run away and do it that day... or fly to Vegas and do it the next. Brady however is a little bit more organized, and methodical. We debated days, and places, and court rooms, and people. In the end we settled on January 8th, the first wedding date we picked out way back in August, and a small ceremony in my living room with parents, siblings, and grandparents.

Giving up the big wedding wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. There is something ingrained in us women, at a very young age, that reads "YOUR WEDDING IS GOING TO BE THE HAPPIEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE. START DREAMING, AND PLANNING NOW!" And from the beginning its not about love, or your groom, or God. It's about a day, and more importantly... it's all about you. I think that some woman get so wrapped up in fantasizing about "the day" that they forget to think about other, more important things.

I was through overlooking the 'other more important things.'

My wedding would only be the best day of my life for one day, and then the next day would be the best, and then the day after that, then the day after that, you see where I'm going with this. If your happiness is dependent on the day, or the gown, or the guest count, or the venue, you are not getting married for the right reasons.

We eliminated all the distractions, and it was easy.

We wanted to enjoy the spoils of being married, so we planned a wedding in six days.

We felt that pleasing the Lord was more important than pleasing societies view of what an engagement, and a wedding should look like.

If you are engaged, and planning a wedding, I think that six months is a ridiculous amount of time to wait. Why tempt temptation? There is something magical that happens when the man you love slides that 2,000 dollar insurance policy on your finger.. oops I mean engagement ring, and all of the sudden you just want to jump each others bones all the time, and it's name is "we're going to get married anyway!"

There's no shame in a short engagement. Like Debbie Morris says, "God doesn't only bless big weddings. Why wait till you're burning with lust?"

Our families were extremely gracious. They stood behind us, and though they were surprised they had no problem helping throw together a wedding in six days. Six days of craziness vs six months of stress. We lucked out.

Our wedding was everything we ever wanted. I swear by short engagements now.

I'm looking forward to having hundreds of best days with my best friend.

As for today... it's a snow day, and we slept in till 11. Brady is playing Call of Duty Black Ops, and I am hammering away on these keys and watching the snow turn to ice. It feels like the best today I've ever had.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Brady and I have been talking about starting a blog for awhile. It's not that we think we're interesting, though we do, just that both of us feel like we have a lot to say. This(blogging), we both agree, is a sufficient way to express what we have to say. We both like to be heard. I think that's one of the many reasons why we adore each other. We both understand the other's need to speak out.

We weren't planning on starting this blog until life settled down a bit. We definitely didn't plan to start it on our honeymoon but something happened tonight that made me want to 'speak out'. It's not a statement or a declaration, more like a diary entry that I want to share.

Brady and I are here in San Antonio, TX on our honeymoon. It's been a wonderful, mind blowing week. Quite possibly the best of both our lives. Tonight we decided to stroll the Riverwalk and have dinner at the HardRock Cafe. After dinner and a couple drinks we decided to go in search of the bar Coyote Ugly. I've always secretly wanted to be a Coyote, I just love Jesus too much. We ended up getting turned around, and stopped to regroup on a well lit corner.

A couple nice looking guys asked Brady for the time, and began to walk on. We didn't think anything of it until one of them summed up the courage to ask us if we could give the two of them some money for dinner. The other stood off to the side and looked at his feet, you could tell it was a humbling experience for both of them. He went on to say that they were only in San Antonio for the night, and didn't have any money to eat. Brady didn't even hesitate. He pulled out his wallet, and handed the brave one a bill.

You could tell that they didn't expect us to actually help them by the looks on their faces. Brady sent them on their way, and we continued our search for the bar. Let me just stop to say that I love my husband. He is so generous, and kind. I don't know many who would have helped the two.

Not five minutes later we were crossing underneath a bridge, back on the Riverwalk, and a homeless man stopped us and asked if he could sing us a song to earn a few bucks. I don't know if it was the alcohol or the Holy Spirit but we stopped, and let him sing. He was terrible. He was loud, and smelly, and scaring the other couples that walked by.

After he had finished two songs, I asked him if I could sing for him. Anything to get him to stop. I got him to sit down beside me, and after a second of prayer I launched in to 'Here I am to Worship' and hoped for the best. He got teary eyed and sat silently as I sang. After I finished, I thanked him for taking the time to listen to me and then asked if I could pay him for his time. He readily agreed, and Brady pulled out a bill.

I think that this is the start of a beautiful marriage. We both like to be heard. I think the most meaningful way to speak out is through your actions, and Brady's actions are some of the most beautiful words I've ever heard.