We actually ended this blog about a month ago after posting every day for a year. Those 365 days represented the first twelve months of our marriage and we walked (and sometimes crawled) through joyous occasions like, well, like getting married and not so joyous occasions like the time I tried to watch the World Cup in the middle of our honeymoon.

Since the blog has ended we’ve both moved on to pursue other projects. I run an Oklahoma State sports blog and Jen is perfecting the ever-evolving world of craft she lives in.

Running this blog was a lot of fun. Writing about marriage, having an online community, and sharing in the glorious treasure that is our Lord were the best first blogging experience we could have ever had. It was time to move on to other pursuits though. I sent Acuff that guest post some five months or so ago when we were in the thick of writing on here but since he probably has a stack of guest posts ten feet high I think he was just now getting around to posting.

So thank you for visiting and sorry we don’t have more to show you! Also, thank you for reading my excerpt on Stuff Christians Like, and if you want to read about our story (the secret engagement portion of it anyway) in full you can do so here.

Dear marriage-

Sometimes you’re like another human being in our lives. One day you’re fun and silly, the next you’re confusing us with your seriousness, and some days we’re not sure what you’re feeling at all. But we all live under this roof together and try to make it all work: love and friendship and passion and grace and all our paperback books. We weren’t quite sure about this “two become one” thing initially, but the longer we battle through these things, the more we start to look like one another. And more like the one who created us all. I think we’ll keep meeting every day, but go easy on us for the next few decades. Life is about to get really interesting.

Dear Kyle-

Thanks for making me do difficult things, even when I don’t feel like it. You know that I struggle with being consistent in anything, but you’ve taught me nothing since I met you if not that discipline is the key to any success. You are the most disciplined person I know, which is mostly good, but sad when I want to play and you have to write. It makes me feel like a puppy and like you’re an old lazy dog, so confused by my scampers and hops but still focused on what you’re doing. Thanks for putting up with me and carrying dragging me through so many things. I have nothing but faith in you.

Jen

Dear Jen-

Thank you for carrying me when I needed it and loving me when I didn’t want it. This last year with you has been spectacular, the full physical manifestation of all my hopes and fears and dreams about relationship between two people. Living together has been tough at times and not very much fun at others, but I wouldn’t trade it for easy, I wouldn’t trade it for frictionless or less complex either. It’s been worthy and I think when you get married that’s really all you can ask for. Just think, only 49 (or so) more years. Most of which will be filled with other little people who further complicate our lives.

Always,
Kyle

Dear readers –

This blog would be little more than the working out of our relationship in the abyss of the internet without you guys coming to our site every day. Sometimes that was scary but we were always grateful for your feedback, your thoughts, your (sometimes spirited) opinions, and your love. And on love, writing on this blog every day has been a labor of such. We went through phases: first we loved it, then we loathed it, then we didn’t know what to do with it, then we loved it again, then it was time for it to end, and now we’re here.

I’m not sure it ever grew into what we wanted but that’s okay because we loved it for what it was. And we’re hopeful that it was something to you: encouragement, inspiration, hope, anything really, anything that moved your soul closer to the Lord and farther away from the things of this world. I think we’ll probably be around in some form or fashion in the coming months. We aren’t sure quite yet what our next project will be but we’ll alert our Twitter followers as soon as we know. If you aren’t following yet you can do so here. Thanks for reading- we hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as we have.

-Kyle and Jen

KT Tunstall “Hold On” from KFOG Radio 104.5/97.7 on Vimeo.

Somehow I’ve managed to live my life in one year increments. Ever since high school, there’s either been a job change, a house change, or a change in marital status right around once a year. I think it has something to do with the structure of academic semesters and summer holidays, but breaking yourself of that pattern as an adult can be quite difficult. I call it the one year itch, Kyle calls it baffling, but my desire for something new is satiated in semi-major life changes every 365 days or so. And yet I sit here in our little apartment and feel nothing major occurring within my heart or outside of it. After completing a full year of blogging once a day, we’ve both started to wonder what the next year will hold. It’s funny how there have been days I haven’t been able to think of a single thing to write, and now I’m inundated with enough ideas to fill up a month’s worth of posts. My darling journal will finally see some action once again. Or at least more action than the scotch taped pictures I find from catalogs to fill its pages.

I know I said back in January that Genesis and I were finished with our meet and greets, but I’ve started a one year bible reading plan. Two people inspired me in this recently- Chelsea is on track with day 140 something and Nathan is in the second year of his one year plan. I figure that I’ll either succeed or I’ll fail, but I’ll just push through, even if it takes me three years. The fact that I’m already on day 8 offers me a little encouragement, plus it’s been really fun. Come on bible, let’s focus.

The husband has started a blog project in the world of sports, and even though it’s not an every day project, he ends up blogging sometimes 2-3 times a day. This, as we’ve discussed, will either be a two year fun project or someone will eventually pay him money to do it. It’s unfortunate for him, but I’m not the type of wife who can be patient for more than two years while her husband works a part-time job without getting paid for it. I might not even be that patient if he was getting paid for it, but that’s really just showing you too much of my heart.

Sometimes we want to do things like open a snow cone stand (Dallas has a shocking lack of them) or spend all our savings on a mobile living space and travel the country (that’s only me) or start our own businesses or write a book or move to another country just for fun and blog about it as though everyone wants to read it. But for now, our hearts are rather settled on taking it easy and figuring things out one day at a time. Maybe living life one year at a time has decided it isn’t for me.

Or maybe it will just become a two year itch.

Photo Attribution

1. Even if husbands are clean before marriage, they won’t necessarily be clean after.

This is not a knock on my husband- he does a pretty good job most of the time. But one of the most surprising things about marriage for me was that his side of the bedroom looks nothing like his room did when we were dating. Maybe it’s because he finally has someone to clean up after him, though sometimes I’m tempted to leave that pile of clothes and see how high it can get before he takes initiative. I’ve said a lot of prayers while doing dishes after he’s used the kitchen. Marriage is a great adventure in sanctification.

2. Marriage is a great adventure in sanctification.

This has been huge. As a young woman, I could barely understand my own emotions before I added those of a whole other person. Under the same roof, mind you. It’s not really twice the emotional rollercoaster like you think it would be- it’s really four times harder. I can’t imagine what it will be like to have teenagers if God takes us that far, but maybe that’s why they start off really sweet and grow into their emotions- so you can slowly prepare for the disaster at the end. All that to say, marriage definitely reminds you that you’re not the only one on this earth. Sometimes rudely, usually abrasively, but rarely in a kind and loving way.

3. Life shared with someone you love is much sweeter than living it alone.

This is not a stab at singleness. I loved being single more than most people I know, and God will sanctify and purify you in his own way if that’s where he is leading you. But there’s something about always having someone to come home to- someone who knows your craziest thoughts and dreams and the darkest parts of your heart, but loves you anyway. Someone to laugh with and cry to and be silly with. And someone to protect you and love you through all of life’s battles.

And these are just a few things after year one. We have so far to go.

Oh you have softball tonight? Well I wanted to go out to eat instead.
You’re going antiquing this weekend? I was going to work on my web site.
We’re going to your family’s house again?!

It’s just one of the many ways our personal selfishness is revealed through marriage.

I don’t really think there’s a fix to this problem or a tried-and-true remedy for the ailment of feeling lonely all the time, but here’s what Jen and I decided on…

As most of you know, I’ve been rather busy running my OSU web site (it’s a second job really) and because of this our time together is sporadic at best. So we walked through my weekly schedule, hour by hour (literally), and blocked off time that’s just Kyle and Jen time. No writing, no reading, just being with each other and cultivating relationship.

And it’s been outstanding – to be intentional with your time to grow in the Lord with your spouse.

Of course we’re also only on day 2 so get back to me in a week, we’ll probably be in the midst of another Zeb incident.

Two lessons from our holiday weekend:

1. You can make a game out of anything.

Sometimes I’m a total girl. There are times when I don’t feel like getting my hair wet or playing in the dirt, but then there are times when I’m just as competitive as my husband. These times usually come during ridiculous games that take no athletic ability and I think I actually have a chance to beat him. Example? Let’s stand on the side of the pool while someone throws us a ball and we try to catch it for points. Or let’s take a golf tee to the bottom of the pool and jump on it when it floats to the top. For points, of course. I still rarely win, but the trophy is tantalizingly close. And so we play.

2. Road trips, even short ones, provide the best conversation.

I know part of it is the fact that we don’t have as much technology at hand while driving, but it also helps that neither of us has the chance to wander off or be distracted by anything else. I’ve decided over the last year that if you’re feeling distant from your spouse, it’s probably time for a road trip. No radio, no phones, just you. And whatever conversation comes up.

What did you do for the holiday weekend?

Don’t forget to call your grandparents, parents, siblings, and friends today to thank them.

Somehow I think that when you see something coming to completion, you tend to sit back and enjoy seeing everything you’ve done up to that point. All the work we did to gain one another’s affections in courtship provided great pleasure at the beginning of marriage, making it seem an almost effortless existence in the new world we were taking on. I really think, though, that a year is probably the limit on riding that out, perhaps bringing us to the end of what they call the honeymoon stage. I’m not sure at what point we no longer fall under the “newlywed” category, but I think it might have something to do with realizing that marriage isn’t actually quite as easy as it seemed during the first few months.

I’m trying to weigh this realization with the fact that so many people say the first year is the most difficult. On the one hand, we can’t ride the courtship wave much longer, but if this was the most difficult year, I can’t really imagine how great the rest of the years will be. Something in me wonders if “the first year is the hardest” was a line spoken once as a conversation starter that accidentally caught on with all of society. That’s where conversation starters will get you. Remember this.

I’ve been thinking about all the things we were doing at this time last year; running around making last minute purchases, packing for the honeymoon, trying to keep our families quiet until the last minute. There was so much expectation and excitement in my heart, and though it’s much different now, the expectation still resides there, looking forward to year two and all the rest that will follow. I know things are starting to look the same every day, but I’m praying for fresh eyes daily, that we would never take these times together for granted.

Clear eyes and full hearts and such.

Catch ya in the pool. Please wear sunscreen today. Our marriage will last a lot longer.

-Your bride

Peter Bradley Adams – For You : {el.de.te} from el.de.te productions on Vimeo.

Here are four things I learned from writing on this blog for the last year:

1. Writing is believing – There are times, and some of you probably know where I’m coming from, that I would start writing about a topic and I really didn’t know which side of the fence I was going to land on until I typed the last sentence. So I think that means I learned that I process the world through writing about it. And to that end…

2. I’m very thankful to Mr. Gutenberg – For setting in motion a 5-century long series of events that would, for the time being, culminate in my leaning back in a desk chair hammering away on a wireless keyboard at this post. Writing the 200,000 words or so we’ve written would have been a lot less enjoyable by hand.

3. Have a plan – We went into this without a plan to speak of. I really didn’t know what we were going to do or how it was going to end up or who would read it. Because of that it never turned into what I think it could have (and maybe should have) but…

4. Doing something > not doing something – I can’t even comprehend how much we’ve learned, how much I’ve learned about each other, about writing, about the blog world, about other writers, and about the Lord. So even though I would deem our endeavor mildly unsuccessful in terms of end result, the journey of actually consistently doing something for 365 straight days was an absolute experience.

We’ll be back for more over the next 9 days and have a farewell post next weekend so don’t go away yet. And thank you, as always, to all of our readers, we’ve had a terribly fantastic time interacting with you and learning from you for the past 12 months.

1. Take a trip.

Everyone knows how badly I want to purchase an Airstream, but did I tell you about the time I thought the husband bought us one as a surprise? Another story for a later time…

This is actually something we’re doing this year (thanks to the husband’s secret planning skills), but it’s only going to be a short weekend trip. The idea of flying anywhere for a short period overwhelms me, not to mention the price of flights is extraordinary right now. So we’re taking a short road trip to a secret destination, which will be more fun and less overwhelming than a big trip anywhere else.

2. Host a party.

via a cup of jo

This is something I really want to do, but I’m not sure where we’d fit all the people we’d want to invite to our tiny little apartment. Maybe if God blesses us with a house and a big back yard, we can try this on anniversary number 5. I love the idea of having some close friends over for dinner to celebrate another year of our love. Check out the links below for some free photo booth templates from the fabulous Jordan Ferney. She has the best party ideas.

via oh happy day

3. Make a photo montage.

With all the technology available these days, you can make any type of photo book or collage by just uploading some favorite photos to the website of your choice. Even if you’re not picture people, you can gather enough pictures over the last year to make something pretty memorable. Even if you have to include things like this:

What are some creative things you’ve done to commemorate an anniversary or special occasion?

Photo Attribution

Sometimes we look at the past year and wonder how it’s gone so quickly. Other times we wonder how we’ve only been married for one year and not ten. With eleven days left to go in our “Julie and Julia” blog project, we’ve got a bittersweet feeling that comes with the end of any era. We’ve been praying about what to do with this thing since January, and we both feel like the Lord has given us much closure in moving on, in letting it be a digitally tangible example of how we lived, what we ate, and who we met during our first year of marriage. The husband is already on to new projects, and the wife can’t possibly stay out of writing for long, though God only knows when she’ll commit to doing anything for longer than a week. We pray for that daily.

All that to say, we’d like to use this post as an opportunity to answer questions about marriage, about blogging, about anything you’d like to know from us (silly or not). If no one participates, it will just be like every other post on this blog. But at this point, with eleven days left, we’ve really got nothing to lose!

Have at it: If you could ask us one question, what would it be?

Four things I learned from traveling to the OC this weekend:

1. Always remove towel remnants and sand from your lens before shooting photos.

2. Not many people know the gospel. It’s really easy for us to forget that when we spend our weeks doing the same things over and over; work, home, church, play. We gather with the same people, who, for all intents and purposes, are exactly like us. But getting out sometimes makes you realize how close people are to finding Jesus. They’re reading books on Philosophy and worshipping the freedom they find in music and believing that there’s a higher power of some kind. They’re really just almost there.

3. Everyone I talked to who lives in the OC has lived there for their entire life. What’s interesting is that they’re praised for it because it’s a beautiful place to be, yet those who stay in their hometown in the plains are considered incompetent hicks. A strange imbalance, I dare say.

4. Husbands are pretty good at keeping things in order while you’re traveling, even if it’s cleaned up right at the last minute. Even after he forgot to crate the dog he was sitting and it chewed my art supplies into tiny pieces, the rest of the house looked great. There was no major harm done, plus I think I’m getting a leg up on the dog debate. Lost art supplies scores me at least ten votes toward the future of canines in this family.

Also, here’s a picture of one of the families I camera stalked at the beach. (Yes, there were several, and none of them were American.) This one was taken right after this elderly man was swept under by a wave. I’ve never seen anyone so excited to be in the ocean before.

What have you learned from your travels?

We had driven to Hennessey that day to visit her sister, who had just undergone brain surgery. I was a little upset because I was missing the OSU Texas Tech basketball game and all I had was a radio and miles and miles of Oklahoma farmland to traverse. In retrospect, her sister had just been prodded in the brain with multiple metal instruments and just wanted some company so my being perturbed was probably a bit misguided.

Anyway, we had fun that day reminiscing with some old friends who had also come with us to the place where (little did we know) we would be married at some 800 days later.

Then that night, well, that night was one of those nights that don’t really make sense unless you’ve lived in a college town It’s one of those fistful of wonderful nights that are seared into the hard drive of your mind and even if you wanted to erase it, you couldn’t.

Jen had just gotten her hair cut and she was wearing this crisp red jacket that made her look about 6” taller than she actually was. She looked elegant that night. Like Katie Holmes crossed with Rachel McAdams.

We were out with friends and everyone had a blast, but honestly we could have been out with strangers in a country halfway around the world and it still would have felt the same way. I couldn’t stop looking at her, I was completely and unequivocally hooked.

I wish I could have put it in a time capsule.

There were other nights in our dating relationship that stand out for various reasons: our first kiss, our first actual date, and “that one night in Austin” come to mind. But I think I’d be hard pressed to give you a more soul-debilitating twenty four hours than January 12, 2008.

To fifty more years of red jackets and fresh hair cuts.

I hope you’re enjoying your little mini-vacation as much as I’m not enjoying life without you this weekend. I thought I was going to revel in getting a lot of work done on my website (and I have) but when it comes to taking a break and going to Braum’s or just siting outside and talking I’m finding it’s just not as fun without you.

However, it has given me the opportunity to plan something terrific for our one year anniversary which is…wow…two weeks from today. It’s crazy isn’t it – this time last year I was at my brother’s graduation, you were meticulously organizing your parents’ venue for the wedding, we weren’t married yet.

Now, I can’t imagine not being married. Like I literally don’t remember what it was like to live by myself, have coffee by myself, watch movies by myself…until this weekend.

And that’s kind of the point I think. I was so looking forward to some me-time this weekend and I’ve ended up just wishing you were here the whole time. That you are so ingratiated into not just my life but my existence is something I’ve never known from another human. I think that’s how it’s supposed to be though, fights and all.

Have fun in Cali, try not to almost lose your ring in the Pacific Ocean like you did on our honeymoon.

Here’s to the next 50 weeks.

- Huz

Mason Jar Music Presents… The Wood Brothers from Mason Jar Music on Vimeo.

Unlike the husband, I have the uncanny ability to store about 3-4 nights worth of goodies into one overnight bag. Here, some I would purchase if I had the extra money saved.

From JCrew

Two things: 1) I’ve been very into navy and white lately. Such classic colors. And 2) who knew JCrew carried luggage? Yes, please.

Hartmann Wings

This one is on sale for only $475, but I’m totally in love with the design here.

Gucci "Wholesale"

And a final one with the tacky plastic still on its handles from an online “wholesaler” website. Because let’s be honest- none of us are buying the real thing. If you are I’m not judging you, but the fakes look just as great.

Happy travels to all- where are you traveling this month?

Sometimes I find solace in the written word, and while it should be the holy Bible, this week it manifests itself in a work of fiction that has been a source of giggles and encouragement to me in the last 11 months. Though its pages reflect the early 1800′s, the content is quite similar to today. It simply goes to show that we have been the same for all of eternity; ladies, let the crazy live on. Here, a contrast of my heart and another 200 years earlier.

I’ll just say it: sometimes the blog gets in the way of our marriage. Yes, I am so excited that Kyle is doing what he loves and having a great time with it, but sometimes I hand him his dinner plate and expect to sit at the table, only to watch him take it directly to the computer, put on his headphones, and eat there. To be fair, that only happened once. You can all imagine why.

February 16, 1837
Our honeymoon ends today. There hasn’t been quite as much honey in it as I expected. I supposed that Ernest would be at home every evening, at least, and that he would read aloud, and have me play and sing, and that we should have delightful times together. But now he has got me he seems satisfied and goes about his business as if he had been married a hundred years.

Even as I write these things, I feel rather ridiculous, but such is the heart of a woman. Sometimes Kyle and I have discussions on how I don’t necessarily have to hang out with him all the time, but I just want him to want to hang out with me. If you’re a man, go back, try to process that, and then give up.

Then in the evening he goes and sits in his office and studies; I don’t mean every minute, but he certainly spends hours there. Today I got a letter from Mother, which made me cry at once. He came and embraced me and I told him I was lonely and hadn’t been used to spending my evenings all by myself.
“You must get some of your friends to come see you,” he said.
“I don’t want friends,” I sobbed. “I want you.”
“Yes, darling; why didn’t you tell me sooner? Of course I will stay with you if you wish it.”
“If that is your only reason, I am sure I don’t want you.”
He looked puzzled.

I’m sure no one else has ever had these conversations, just me and little Katherine. My heart immediately wonders if I am being unreasonable and selfish, but I just can’t help but feel these things. I often think back to our dating relationship and think about all the letters we wrote one another, all the nights we spent talking over coffee, on walks, listening to music. And in my head, nothing should have changed, though I know this life is always evolving.

Am I unreasonable and childish? What is married life? An occasional meeting, a kiss here and a caress there? Or is it the sacred union of the twain who walk together side by side, knowing each other’s joys and sorrows and going Heavenward hand in hand?

And thus wages the battle between the poetic souls of women and the practical hearts of men. It must happen, I suppose, in order to get anything done and maintain all the order in the universe. Otherwise the world would run completely out of coffee and paper, and no one wants to live in a world like that.

It has come to my attention (who starts a sentence like that outside of British Parliament?) in the last few days and/or weeks through a bit of gentle appropriate reminding by my wife that I am failing.

I am failing to create time within our marriage to converse and grow. I am failing to carve out special moments for the two of us to share. And I am failing, mostly, to grasp that our wedded bliss is about something other than my day-to-day happiness.

Not abject failures, but failures nonetheless.

The good news, for me, and for any of you XY’s out there, is that I’m (we’re) close.

10 minutes of turning my phone off and being locked into what my wife is saying here. 15 minutes of shutting the computer down and cooking a quick dinner with her there. Thankfully, I’ve been blessed with a wife whose attention span rivals that of Tigger from Winnie the Pooh, so she doesn’t ask for multiple-hour-long blocks. She just wants me, the person she married, to be here, the place we live for short amounts of memorable time together.

Like I said…the little things.

Babies, babies everywhere. I think we probably know about 25 people who are set to give birth this year, and this weekend produced two babies within our circles. This one I get to post because we’re related, whether he likes it or not. He belongs to my cousin and his beautiful wife- I can’t wait to meet him and whisper in his ear that he’s got it really good and to enjoy life while he can. That’s my favorite thing to do with babies. Welcome to the world, little Logan David. Being alive is hard sometimes, but we’re cheering for you.

This weekend, I sewed a dress. It had pockets and sleeves and it almost has a zipper, which makes me so giddy I can hardly stand up straight. I’m on the last page of instructions, and while the pieces don’t match up the way they should, I will not be deterred. I had only two goals in mind when starting this project: 1) Don’t spill anything on it and 2) finish. So far, so good.

Last night we had a smorgasbord of raw and roasted veggies for dinner including our favorite summer snack: salsa. It’s a very secret recipe that’s only secret because it changes every time we make it. Last night we used tomatoes, carrots, bell pepper, jalapeno, onion, cilantro, lime juice, and salt and pepper. Chop, chop, chop. I see this in our future every day until all the vegetables dry up for the winter.

What’s a moment from the weekend you wish you would have captured in film?

Thank you for my new phone. This game where I yell out, “Whose number is this?” and you use the search feature to check my Google contacts is pretty fun. Maybe eventually I’ll put them all back in my phone, but for now I’m really enjoying the guessing game behind it all. I’m still not sure where we got the idea to switch phone companies, sell our old phones, change our minds, and switch back, but it’s been a good week for life lessons. I’m sorry you have to wait until November to get a new one, but by then you can tell me about all the new bells and whistles and fancies it has, and I’ll pretend to be jealous. I’m still not sure what higher power kept you from taking this phone yourself and giving me the less desirable one; that’s something I would have thought even Jesus himself wouldn’t have been able to overcome in you. Thanks for being selfless.

I still can’t believe that Zeb and I had the whole night to ourselves this week. I could have sworn you were going to be home for my fancy dinner, but it was sort of fun to eat it all myself. Thanks for bringing the Sonic drink at midnight as a peace offering. I’m not even sad that it kept me up until 4am- it was worth every drink. For our next fancy dinner I think we’ll just have salmon. Unless you’re up for cooking the lobsters.

I had so much fun with you last night. Thanks for cooking fajitas and taking me for ice cream while we listened to Robert Johnson and the sound of planes landing so close by. It was just the perfect mingling of two separate centuries, mixed together with all our thoughts and the faint scent of mint chocolate chip.

Cheers to being your bride-

Jen

After much research on the subject of boiling a lobster, I realized two things. One, I can do this. And two, researching anything online leads you to some pretty interesting websites. See below:

Some say that you can ‘hypnotize’ a lobster by rubbing the top of its head or its abdomen, thereby pacifying it before boiling. The theory is that the adrenaline produced by a frightened lobster adversely affects the texture and flavor of the meat. I have never seen or tasted any evidence of this, but if you want to cover all possible bases, go ahead and hypnotize your lobster.

I made fun of this guy in my head until I actually tried to boil Zeb. It was then that I realized that his lifeless little body wasn’t so lifeless, and hypnosis would have been my best friend. For when I put him in the boiling water, he began to squirm and proceeded to use his tail to grasp onto the side of my not-so-lobster-sized pot and pry himself out. Even writing this, I’m feeling squeamish. I gasped heartily, grabbed the tongs, and tried to maneuver him back into the water. There was lots of splashing and wrestling, and right before I passed out, Zeb relinquished. At this point I debated on a third glass of wine, but decided against it for the sake of my lemon butter. I set the timer for ten minutes (the standard time I gathered from about 15 different sites) and proceeded to wait.

After taking Zeb out of the water I started to dig the meat out. This would have been much easier had I owned a lobster cracker, but after multiple trips to several stores I settled on my kitchen knife and a pair of scissors from Hobby Lobby. It eventually yielded acceptable results, though I soon began to realize why no one bothers to cook lobster. It’s not because it’s difficult to prepare, but because it takes so much work to eat. I’m not sure who decided to make this a worldwide delicacy, but if he’s still alive I’d like to talk with him. It really was delicious with the amazing lemon butter and savory meat, but in the end, all you really have are bits of shell and a wine cork that smells strongly of lobster.

Rest in peace, Zeb.

Today is “clean out the pile of crap in our bedroom that we meant to donate months ago” day. I have a love/hate relationship with these days. They’re so hard to get started, but once you’re on a roll, you want to get rid of EVERYTHING. Fortunately for us, we’re able to hand all of our goodies to a family that’s having a garage sale, they keep the money, and we never see our stuff again. (Thanks, Jen!)

Today is also “let’s learn how to cook a lobster” day. I don’t really know what happened- I think I read too many Martha Stewart Living articles on how to have the ideal summer party. Tonight’s party is just going to include the husband and I, but maybe if I perfect this lobsterness, we can have the ideal summer party too. As long as our lobsters don’t have us for the party first.

What are you learning today? Has anyone ever cooked a lobster?

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You know the old saying, “You never appreciate how many great mentors you have in your life until you ask them to write blog posts for your marriage blog?” No? No one? Well we’ll call it a new phrase then.

Walk into the Hebrews coffee shop in tiny Perry, Oklahoma and it’ll feel less like a small town and more like an uptown cafe in a much larger city. With towering front windows that look out onto the courthouse lawn, massive ceilings, and local artwork covering the exposed brick walls, I sometimes giggle to think that this little town barely knows what hit it. I (Jen) had the great pleasure of working with Tina at our church in Oklahoma until she and her husband followed God’s calling to an unlikely and often forgotten place: small town Oklahoma. Three cheers for their courage and all they’re doing to advance the gospel in small places. Try not to smell the coffee and muffins as you read. I dare you.

Someone asked us at the counter last week if opening up a coffee shop had been our lifelong dream. Brian and I just looked at each other and smiled a secret smile that 28 1/2 years of marriage lets us do. The short answer was, “No, it wasn’t our dream. It was God’s plan for us.” Our education background is education and psychology. We’ve taught school, worked in career services at Oklahoma State University, and most recently, LifeChurch.tv. Our restaurant experience together totals 1-2 years tops–mine at Hardee’s the summer after high school, and Brian’s at Eskimo Joe’s.

For the first 21 years of our marriage, Brian and I did not follow Christ. We re-committed our lives in 2005, and since we were such late bloomers, we both prayed boldly that God would use us however He saw fit. We acknowledged that our lives no longer belonged to us and we were willing to answer His call, whatever that might be. God answered our prayer by putting us on the fast track to living a life for Him. We started attending LifeChurch.tv in Stillwater, began volunteering after 6 months, joined a lifegroup for 5 months, then led one the next fall. During this time, God was working behind the scenes, and before we knew it we became employeess at LifeChurch.tv in jobs that neither one of us applied for.

Several months after starting his job in Edmond, Brian felt God calling him to plant a church. He was commuting back and forth from Stillwater every day–a forty-five minute drive each way. Brian and God had many conversations during his commute. It took a handful of months, and many conversations for Brian to accept this calling from God. You must know that he is introverted by nature and he’s also a high “thinker” on the Myers-Briggs personality scale, so while all this was going on, he was keeping it between himself and God. In my little world, I was just getting used to joining the workforce after 11 years of homeschooling the kids and working from home. This change was a major adjustment for me and for our family as a whole.

Needless to say, when Brian finally decided to share what God had put on his heart 6 months earlier, the timing was not great and the declaration was met with tears…many tears on my part (By the way, I’m a high “feeler” on the personality scale–yes, opposites do attract and marriages can work!) However, God knew what he was doing and he had put us right where He wanted us. We continued to work and grow in our relationship with God and in our positions at LC.tv, literally soaking up all we could from the amazing environment we found ourselves in 7 days a week.

Fast forward 2 years. I got over the tears for the most part. God helped me get on board when he gave me a double SOS during a fast–Surrender, Obey & Submit and Serve Others Sacrificially. He let us know that planting a coffee shop along with the church would be our passport into the community. We discovered that He brought us to Perry to build relationships (through HeBrews, the coffee shop we now operate), change lives (which we have seen and continue to see over and over), unite churches (we have a growing relationship with a local church and share distribution in their food ministry), and transform the community (this one is on the horizon, and is multi-faceted; God is moving and stirring us with His work and plans at present).

Looking back we feel like God was preparing us all along to work side by side, even when we weren’t following Him. We taught school together, worked at OSU together, worked at LifeChurch.tv together, and now spend nearly all of our waking hours working side by side at HeBrews doing the work God has called us to do.

Our days are long, but fulfilling. We get along without tension or irritation 97% of the time. (The other 3% might be a different blog post altogether!!) In the year HeBrews has been open, we have shared in life-change stories told at the counter, at a table over a cup of coffee, or in the experience room during one of our two weekly church services. Whenever we wonder if making mochas, baking blueberry muffins, or mopping floors is really what God wants us to do, all we have to do is reflect on stories told, or listen to people right in front of us, and anticipate the stories that have yet to be told.

Build relationships, change lives, unite churches, and transform the community. That’s the vision God has given us here. Staying laser-focused on His plan for us requires us to remember Psalm 119:105 “Your word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light for my path.” One step of obedience at a time while he reveals each step through His word, His people, circumstances and prayer.

No, we didn’t have a lifelong dream to open a coffee shop or plant a church, but God had that dream for us. He knew long before we gave our lives to Him what He had in store for us. Now it is our privilege to carry out those plans each morning at 6am as we make our way down to HeBrews to serve the people in Perry…the people He has called us to serve.

Well you can’t really stop me so here goes…I was supposed to write the post today. I was supposed to come up with something witty or enlightening or maybe spiritual and post it for all our readers to sift through.

Jen and I usually trade off (or try to trade off) doing the posts every other day and today was my day.

But I got distracted last night and woke up really late this morning. I was watching the Thunder and “I’ll write the post after this shot” turned into “my gosh it’s 1 AM and I’m completely exhausted” and well…here we are.

So I apologize for those of you coming today for something deep and to those of you who are coming for the first time wondering “who is this joker who won’t stop pontificating about the post he should have written in the time he could have actually completed a real post.” I apologize.

And as reparations for my misdeeds I offer you this, the culmination of my Monday night Tuesday morning.

Last Wednesday, as we walked into church for our congregation’s monthly prayer meeting, Kyle and I were in the midst of a domestic dispute. I can’t quite remember what it was about- I was probably irritated about not having eaten dinner or Kyle was upset because I seemed distracted by the fact that he was texting while telling me a story. Either way, it was something really mature. We walked in a few minutes late (because there’s always plenty of seating at prayer meetings) and both sat down in a huff, arms crossed, ready to address the triune God in all his glory. Almost immediately the pastor stands up and says, “Father, thank you for this time for us to gather in your name. Please bless our time together, heal broken marriages…” at which point I feel my husband’s strong finger poking in my back. This brought on some very serious giggles, followed by a snort, which was followed up with stares from the ones who were actually mature enough to attend the prayer meeting.

Sometimes I’m not sure what we’re doing. I honestly think we both had very realistic expectations going into marriage. But sometimes I think our expectations were of what our marriage should be. Not what we thought it would be. When you’re dating, it actually seems very realistic to think you’ll spend lots of time talking, dreaming, and gazing into one another’s eyes in marriage. That’s what you do when you’re dating. It’s easy to think that’s what marriage should be like because it’s all you know of love at that point. You think you’ll never argue over finances because you were each great at managing your own. You’ll never get tired of being together because you always had the opportunity to go home.

Well, my friends, we’re still working on all these things. It’s difficult for me to be realistic about our time together because I genuinely want more of it. It’s difficult for Kyle to relax a little on finances because he genuinely wants to buy a house in the semi-near future. When these things are matters of the heart, we realize that it’s about more than compromise.

And some days, changing the heart seems like the most impossible task in the world.

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I’d love to be able to write you some kind of hey, happy “we have lots of kids and I’m glad you’re the one in charge of taking care of them 24/7 and not me!” kind of letter today, on Mother’s Day.

Wait, no, no I wouldn’t.

Although now that I think about it, it would have been rather humorous if you’d written a lengthy Sunday letter to me today stating that we could, in fact, celebrate Mother’s Day nine months from now. And that was how I found out about our future mini-Porters.

No, wait, that wouldn’t have been funny either. Subversive, yes, but not funny.

I think instead it might be good if I just write to you about how thankful I am for our moms which they’ll both enjoy if, God bless them, they’re still reading these posts.

It might be good if I remind you when we get in fights that a lot of that is the independent spirit we inherited from both of our mothers and their hard-headed, if not usually correct way of doing things. I should probably remember to remind you of that after the fact rather than in the moment. Mental note.

Or maybe every time we make a new couple friend we should be grateful that we both inherited our mothers’ verbal (and non-verbal) communication skills, outgoing as they both may be.

It’s fitting, too, that we’re both so interested in entrepreneurial endeavors. I consider that a gift from our moms – yours with her craft store and mine with her personal quilting business. I think that’s one of my favorite things we took from them.

So on today, as we celebrate moms and all their ways I’m thankful that you have a blueprint for who you want to be, what the Lord wants from you. I’m thankful that God blessed us both with moms who cared enough to tell us no and loved us more than we, even now, can ever fathom. You’ll experience it someday, it’s the simple (yet complex) circle of life, and it’s beautiful and sad and funny and probably just a little bit ironic.

And I pray that you would carve out your own mom-ship with our children and that when you don’t know what to do or where to turn you have a pair of people who will know. A pair of wise old women who will just know what you’re going through and what everything was like at that age who will help you make it through.

Because, as I’m sure you’re well aware, moms just always…know.

Happy Mother’s Day to our moms and Happy Future Mother’s Day to you, Jen.

Love, Kyle

Creativity is essentially a lonely art. It is in the ability to reach inside yourself…and drag forth from your very soul an idea.

Gastrotypographicalassemblage from christian carlsson on Vimeo.

Standing in the middle of the field as a tepid breeze whistles in my ear, the sound of dirt and spit and discarded sunflower seeds crunching beneath my feet. The lights dancing off the chain link fence as 25-year old boys, mostly boys, run around playing like 5-year old boys with bloody knees and semi-inflated egos.

It’s my favorite place in the world to be. Not playing softball per se, but outside, under the stars with great friends and my wife watching and eternity on the horizon, just below the moon. How could it not be?

And as I marched around shortstop last night at our game, in between innings while girls speckled the air with their pitchy voices and those aforementioned boys loosened their muscles by waving bats over their heads I thought about how all of this is so very much like what I do every day with God.

See in softball, as is the case with most semi-sedentary sports, there are precious few seconds of live roll-the-cameras lace-up-your-spikes action. Most of time is filled with dirt being swept from side to side, gloves being smacked with balled up fists, and chalk dancing out of the straight line it was supposed to represent.

Most of the time you’re sitting there thinking, preparing for the 3-4 seconds of complete chaos that uncovers this truth about who you are as an athlete, as a ballplayer.

As extrapolations go, it’s a pretty good one, because I find my walk with God and my spiritual, if not actual, life to be much of the same. Hours of preparation and discipline equals success. But as is the case with both, one slip of the mind into something other than what is in front of me and poof, ballgame.

So how will it be? What is my priority? Can I focus on the day, on the moment? Do I have it in me to be humbled to the point that all I am is rigorously focused on that which is important?

The sound of metal on cork slices the air as my eardrums react negatively. The ball is rocketing up the middle of the field at a pace so frenetic I can’t even process it. I take one sharp step to my left, cross over with my right, and leave my feet…

I hope my mind was clear.

I hope I was focused.

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This post is from Jen’s friend Debbie. She has been blessed in marriage twice, and has been an example to so many on what it means to live out and support a husband in sickness and in health. We asked her to share a little about what that has meant for her and hope it blesses some of you today!

Have you ever made a promise to someone you knew was going to be difficult to keep? Did you pinky swear? That always makes things official, you know? It has been quoted multiple times, “Promises are made to be broken.” I must tell you, this is a myth. Promises are best when kept, no matter how difficult the task. Our story…

I met him, fell in love with him, and promised to love, honor, cherish and commit to him in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, for better, for worse, in poverty or in prosperity, till death do us part. I vowed these things before God and the well-dressed witnesses smiling in bow-laden church pews, candles glowing with my groom in a very uncomfortable dark navy tuxedo. My heart was full. My happiness overflowed on this my long awaited wedding day. I meant every recited word as I pledged my love to him. I promised.

Fast forward 10 plus years, two sons later. My husband was suddenly sick, hurting badly. He knew something was wrong. We sought help immediately. The doctors told us the battle would be long and would be hard to fight. The doctor was extremely accurate in his prediction. The battle raged.

As the illness grew stronger and he grew weaker, the idea of multiple medications, physical therapy, an amputated limb, wheelchairs, hospital beds, and sleepless nights all weighed heavy as I began to question my ability to transform from wife to nurse/care-taker as rapidly as his needs presented. I asked myself in numerous silent conversations, “Did I sign up for this?” “I thought I was to be the blushing, beautiful bride forever, not do ‘this’ for him.” “Why God? Why?” I was selfish. I was mad at the illness that was stealing him away from me. I continued to question my ability to take care of his needs. I cried, whined, but also prayed. My prayers were varied. Some days I prayed for his healing, some days I prayed for my own health and well-being. My sons prayed for their father. A lot of tears were shed. I would guess there were as many fallen tears as prayers offered up.

His pain worsened. His hope for a long life waned. He first asked and then begged for me to take his life, withhold his medication or give him more than was needed. He cried. I cried. We prayed.
We were thankful for days where his strength was good, especially if they fell on Sunday so that we could worship together, as a family. It was a very important part of our lives, but we missed many services due to his illness and healthcare needs. That week, we were welcomed into the church with hugs and handshakes from people we had not seen in quite some time. The minister was preaching a sermon series on The Ten Commandments, familiar material I assumed and then I heard HIM loud and clear, “Thou shalt not kill.” As my body shuddered from the impact of God’s Word, I heard another voice in my ears, my own words were echoing “In sickness and in health, in good times and bad, for better, for worse…” My vow, promise and commitment to him was written on the blackboard of my mind’s eye and I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that I could not ever help him end his life and that it was my honor to serve my husband in the capacity of care-taker until God choose to heal him. My frame of mind changed that day. I had a renewed sense of purpose and a spirit of thanksgiving. I continued to pray.

Time and illness continued to take its toll on his body and his mind. I began to pray for an answer in the form of divine healing, “please take him home Lord” I was not sure if this was okay to pray, but these were the words coming from my mouth. It was one of the most difficult prayers I had ever prayed. I wanted his earthly suffering to end. That same evening, he asked me to sit by the bedside as he talked, his voice unusually strong. We had not had a deep conversation like this in a very long time.

It was a cold December day, winds howling as a reminder of a new season blowing in. I remember his words well. I held onto his hand as he spoke about his heart-change that had taken place that day as he prayed. He spoke of a forgiveness that he had never felt before from his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I was surprised when he asked me to help him with the phone, dialing multiple numbers across state lines. He was telling friends and family of his relationship with Jesus. He asked for forgiveness from past wrongs he wanted to make right immediately. He made amends with people he once held very strong grudges against. I was dumbfounded at the change in him. I had no idea these deep issues even existed. I was feeling something new at that moment too; I was falling in love all over again, fresh love, for my husband; not a sick man in need of care and attention, but the man I loved greatly, the man I made a promise to many years before.

“Till death do us part.” It happened sooner than I had expected, but I held onto the Word, “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” It was my hope and God’s promise. The Word brought comfort during the difficult days ahead. I tried to be strong for our sons, but they offered me strength. We got through the next few days sitting with the many people that visited with baked hams and scalloped potatoes running over. We were numb at some moments, crying with sadness of his passing, and at other times, laughing at a funny memory of silliness, and the good days gone by.

Sympathy cards and phone calls came in large numbers those first few days after the announcement came of his death. The number of visits drew less and less as the world kept living at their normal pace. My new normal was foreign to me. I cherished a friend’s call or visit as days grew into weeks and months.
During those first few months after he was gone, I reflected on how God answered the prayers of healing in His perfect time. He waited until reconciliation was made and all was well in his heart before calling him home. I often remember with joy, that moment when I fell in love with him all over again because I saw before me my groom, not a sick body in need of care, but a man that I made a promise to.

As I looked through the envelopes the mail man had just delivered, I wondered who would be sending me a card. It was not my birthday nor any holiday where a card might be expected. I was full of anticipation, a card, I love cards! As I read the words, tears began to fall. The handwritten note from one of his many doctors read, “I have never known anyone to keep their marriage vows the way you did. You were an example to many…in sickness and in health, till death do you part.”

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So why is it that so often I find my movements, the things my body and my eyes and my hands and my feet and my mouth do, stray so far from the words I write and think?

I write that I love my wife and yet the words I say to her belie that. I think I’m disciplined and yet my ability to hit find the “snooze” button without touching the “OK” button on my iPhone is unparalleled. (Seriously- if that were an Olympic event I’d be representing the U.S. every four years). I blog on here that I am this or I do that and yet, nine times out of ten, I find my actions betraying that which I believe.

Paul wrote on this extensively in Romans, I know, it just seems so…other…to me that I, in all my humanness, am unable to overcome such things.

We are taught from a young age that we can overcome, that we can be stronger than the strength of the world, that we can outlast the daggers of sin and shame.

Which is why it seems so foreign to me that I need God in such a simplistic way, and yet I do. I always do.

After almost a full year of wedded bliss, I think most of what I expected from marriage has happened. Living with a boy is difficult but doable, and having two sets of emotions under one roof hasn’t made anything spontaneously combust. Even though some days I wanted to physically combust my husband. Our dynamic with friendships has changed some, partly because we moved to a new city, and partly because when you’re married, the best thing at the end of the day is to come home to someone who loves you more than anyone else.

I think in any scenario when you’re looking forward to the future (which would ideally be all stages in life) you put a certain level of expectation on that next phase. On going from high school to college, on being single to being married, on being a couple to being a full-fledged family. There’s always the stir of excitement, of new responsibilities, new things to decorate (girl stuff), and experiencing things for the first time. In each stage, we have a time of preparation, a time when everything else fades away and we focus solely on becoming who we need to be for where God is taking us next. I found a journal entry from our engagement that simply had four items.

March 24, 2010 6:30am

- Pikes Place Roast. Four creamers.
- Yellow sheet of paper
- Listen to listen, not to form a comeback
- Read his love languages.

This is such a great picture of our marriage counseling, not only because we were sneaking around at crazy hours trying to avoid scrutiny from co-workers and friends, but because we simply took one thing at a time to focus on. For me, the best thing to do right now is not to focus on the next stage in life, but to have three or four tiny goals to make my marriage better every day. Right now, these would look like this.

May 3, 2011 8:26am

Speak with kindness.
Choose your words carefully.
Pray for your husband.

And in these times of small focus, everything else seems to fade away. At least until it’s time to bring it into the light.

The last few days in Dallas have been particularly rainy and dreary. In order to combat this, we’ve been taking part in things that bring sunshine to the soul. Project one: Dallas Farmers Market. This is something I’ve been wanting to do since we moved to Dallas almost a year ago, but no worries; we went twice this weekend to make up for it.

Initially, I wasn’t sure about all the tropical fruits, knowing you can’t grow pineapples in Texas. But after some looking around, we found the local farmer section. The husband and I purchased some new potatoes and green beans, along with some non-local pears and tangelos. We had a great time just walking around and felt like we’d eaten a meal when we left thanks to all the generous vendors with samples aplenty.

Now we just can’t wait to cook and eat all our new finds. I’m already excited about their list of April and May classes. What did you do this weekend? Have you ever visited the farmers market in your area?

Hey hey husband-

I sort of can’t believe the royal couple stole our favorite kiddy names. I mean who isn’t going to name their kids William and Kate in the next ten years? We’re definitely going to have to reconsider. I’m not naming our littles anything ranking in the top 50 most popular names, mostly because I’m one of about 8 million Jennifers born in the 1980′s. Right now, some options are Howard and Doris. Great thing we have lots of time to keep looking.

I have two very favorite things from this week. One has absolutely nothing to do with you, but that’s only because you didn’t know what milk frothers were before I got one as a gift. The other one is all you. Thanks for letting me play fake golf with you in the yard this weekend. I had so much fun, even though I lost all four games in a row. Thanks for letting me start the scores over whenever I felt that a win was just beyond my reach. That isn’t why I married you, but it would have been part of it had we played fake golf during our courtship. Next time let’s invite that fun looking neighbor girl. I think we could definitely be friends.

Thanks for always encouraging me to learn new things, even when they seem frivolous. I know my hobby bouncing makes you crazy sometimes, but this life is so short and there are just too many things to figure out. I know this will make me one of those old people who always calls themselves, “a jack of all trades and a master of none!” I rather despise this phrase and realize it might become a detriment to our marriage as a whole, but let’s be honest. There’s just nothing left to describe me. I’m not in any hurry to purchase a house, but it will definitely open up a whole new realm of possibilites in the hobby department. Gardening and canning vegetables? Now that one is practical. I promise promise.

I think I could bump Jude up the list.

Na na na na na na na.

xoxo

Champions timelapse from Luis Caldevilla on Vimeo.

What is the resistance you might be asking. The resistance, as explained by Staven Pressfield, is anything that keeps us from doing the work we’re supposed to be doing.

So for me, when I sit down to write or plan a project, the resistance consists of the following things:

• Twitter
• Food and/or coffee
• Any www I frequent for pleasure and/or entertainment
• Thinking about anything that isn’t my work
• Twitter (again)
• My phone
• My wife

The list is not concise. I basically have to shut everything down and just spend some time inside my own head, thinking, pontificating, and writing ideas.

I’m terrible at it though, I always give in. I always find myself moseying around in the Twitter world or (and I’m so embarrassed of this) playing Angry Birds on our iPad.

The resistance is strong. What are you doing to defeat it?

Oh…and happy #royalwedding day…

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, we’re probably affecting our sleep schedules for the next 3 days to partake via technology in the “Wedding o’ the Century.” I’m still trying to convince Kyle that it should include mimosas to pry me out of bed, but he says it’s too early. However, I’m doing my best to find other reasons to get excited.

I am fascinated with fascinators. A term which has escaped me for far too long, the fascinator is what all the British wear to any fancy occasion. A trend I’m dying to bring back to America. Here are some of my favorites off Etsy. I’m thinking of making my own, though I can’t decide what colors would go best with my sweatpants.

via bridalcouture on etsy

via theheadbandshoppe on etsy

via bridalcouture on etsy

If your wedding is coming up and you’ve invited us, don’t be surprised to see me in a fancy black hat like the one above. I’ll sit in the back so everyone can see. Oh, and if you’re not feeling the hype, go back and read this post with a British accent. It’s much more festive. Darling.

Will you be watching the Royal Wedding?

If you are what you eat, then I am a giant vat of kettle corn. Ask me on any given day, and I am usually a large container of chips and salsa, but we recently discovered a recipe for homemade kettle corn. This stovetop popper is the best wedding gift we received (thanks to everyone who gave us Bed, Bath, and Beyond gift cards) and we use it more than anything else. The sugary salty crunchy goodness has become part of my life; the recipe, part of my brain.

2 T oil
1/2 c kernels
1/4 c sugar
1/2 t salt
Stir, stir, stir. Yum, yum, yum.

If you are what you read, I am a middle aged black woman working for a white woman in Jackson, Mississippi in 1962. I don’t know much about what civil rights are, I just do as I’m told, use what I’m supposed to use, and keep their houses clean, their kids raised. Until I have the chance to tell my story, in a book no less. Three cheers for Kathryn Stockett on this one, and three cheers for Becca for letting me borrow it.

And if you are who you hang out with, I am an 18 month old little girl with lots of personality and the ability to entertain myself with almost anything I can get my hands on. My favorite words are “go go,” “nacks,” and, of course, “no.” I love going to the park, watching Yo Gabba Gabba, and eating fruit. Life is really good, even though I don’t know it yet.

What are you surrounding yourself with this week?

I told him, I don’t care if I’m wealthy or I have a bunch of stuff or even if I’m successful, I just want to be comfortable in this life. Think about it, when talking world problems we almost always try to solve them by making the sufferers of such problems more confortable.

That plays itself out in our marriage too. Instead of confronting that extra $44 we shouldn’t have spent on the entertainment section of our budget for April, we let it slide. We plan vacations to cushy islands, not mission trips to war-strewn third world countries. We gravitate towards what’s easy, the path of least resistance.

Now I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with nice vacations or going to the movies at $22 a pop (actually there is something wrong with that, but it has nothing to do with me or you).

What I’m saying is that, when given the choice, Jesus sought out trial over free pass and pain over painless. Those things didn’t just come to him as if magically produced by life, He went after them. He saw the eternal gain in subjecting Himself to temporary physical and emotional decimation to become more like His father.

And we can barely fast for a day to catch a glimpse of this.

Yesterday, we got another badge on our grownup marriage vest. We spent our first married Easter in Dallas.

After a full morning of church, we feigned a real Easter dinner with some other 20 something pretend grownups. And it actually turned out to be pretty legit. There were fancy things like crescent rolls, green bean casserole, an actual baked ham, and a homemade pound cake with toppings. For the day, with all eleven of us and the two tiny ones, it sort of felt like being with family. There was laughing and crying (not any of the adults, thank goodness) and shared cleanup and games in the yard. There was nap time and life discussion and then there was even a birthday party. With more food and more games and the pitter patter of some rain on the roof, though we couldn’t really hear it from all the game-induced giggles.

All in all, it was a successful Easter, though I’m still not entirely sure what the Easter Bunny is for. Am I supposed to get my kids to believe in him like Santa? Is he supposed to leave eggs in the yard for them to find when they wake up? Or is he just some mythical creature we celebrate in the form of milk chocolate and eggs? Does anyone realize that bunnies don’t actually lay eggs?

Someone help me.

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It’s been a pretty full week I suppose. A pair of date nights, the worst softball game ever, NBA Playoff watching, new bike parts, and so so so very much fabric in our home.

First of all, I’d like to apologize to you for throwing my bat in the game on Thursday. I know there were a lot of kiddies around whose eyes had to be shielded and/or averted by their mothers so I’m sorry about that. No matter that I’d just displayed the most abhorrent hitting performance at a softball game in human history and blown the outcome in the waning innings, no more bat throwing.

Oh, and thanks for fetching me the Hello Kitty bandage for my cut open knee afterward. I know I didn’t laugh at the time but I was giggling on the inside.

I had a blast with you on Friday night sitting at our little perch at Chuy’s eating and watching all the people walk and bike up and down the streets. We could have stayed there all night I think.

But we didn’t, we went to see Water for Elephants instead. I was very embarrassed about this outing for three reasons:

1. I had to explain to you that Robert Pattinson was the star of Twilight
2. I liked the movie more than you did
3. I ate most of the Milk Duds and Sour Patch Kids we sneaked in

The last of those was the most unnerving too. I know, I know I grew up in a home where I was barely allowed to watch Mr. Rogers Neighborhood so for me sneaking candy and drinks into the movie theater is borderline grand theft…

So it was a good week, well it was a bad week too, but it was mostly a good week. And it’s ending wonderfully. Three Easter services then lunch and dinner with our favorite Dallas friends? So in.

These make me ready to have littles:

via oh, hello friend blog

Family Writing Club
How to Make Playdough

These make me wish I didn’t have to work and could spend all day crafting. And also wish that I had a greater attention span.

via design sponge blog

Rosette Necklaces
Rag Crochet Pillows
Spool Hooks

These make me want to redo lots of things in our house.

via design is mine blog

Build me up, Buttercup
Decorating with Wallpaper

And these, more than anything, make me want to throw a summer party. Who’s coming over?

via the coterie blog

Pretty sparkle ideas
Rooftop Dinner

What’s been inspiring you from around the web this week?

Well as you can probably see we have a new-look blog as of today.

It’s not anything crazy, and most of you won’t even notice the biggest changes that were done behind the scenes, but we’re going to continue to add to what we’ve changed and hopefully build something you enjoy coming back to.

I’m writing this post, not to wax poetic about the great job I did in re-designing everything (because it’s not that great) but to give a big thanks and promote the work of one John Saddington.

I’ve never met the guy, and probably never will, but he’s definitely worthy of a day’s worth of blogging.

See I emailed John the other day (because he’s the only person I could think of on the internet to help me out) after some code and hosting data had gone awry. Not only did he write me back within a few hours but he proceeded to walk me through all the mistakes I’d made and help me in re-coding, re-working, and re-everything-ing my site.

No monetary compensation, no grand parade in his honor, only the satisfaction that he’d helped another blogger get where he was going.

If you’re not reading his blog on how to build a blog or following him on Twitter, you should be. Oh, and we also started using the theme he created as of last night. Highly recommend it if you’re getting into the blogging world.

Enjoy the fresh site, feel free to click around (like, oh I don’t know, on that tweet and share button to your left right now), and look for more features in the near future.

As I make a mad dash to my old red truck, my shoes filling more with water with each step, I can’t help but giggle inside. I pull myself up into the cab, unable to jump in for lack of mobility in my yellow pencil skirt, kicking off my soggy red flats to let my feet dry. As I pull out of the parking lot, I crack my windows enough to let in the cooler air while only letting in a few drops of rain every now and then. I pull my hair, now damp and clinging to my skin, into a loose bun. I turn up the radio to the local blues station, taking in the gray hazy sun and cars and sounds of tires on water. Even seeing the new cars with air conditioning, windows up, perfect paint jobs, interiors untouched by the falling rain, I can’t help but remember that life is nothing if not felt; From the heat and humidity of the day to the drops of rain on my cheek to the sound of old blues music, which comes from nowhere if not straight from the heart.

I pull into a space across the street from our little red door, walking confidently through the now slowing rain, keys in hand, thunder all around me for miles. I notice our old man neighbor sitting in his car, give a nod and half smile in his direction, and unlock the door. Twenty minutes later, in the same soggy shoes, we leave for a date night dinner. Old man neighbor walks in the red door, gives us a quick hello and a, “It stopped raining, it’s safe to go outside now.” I pause briefly, though only in my head, struggling not to pause in the physical, and secretly hope he didn’t mean to use the word safe. I quickly wonder if he might possibly be a witch, the melting kind of witch, though all my knowledge of sorcery from the children’s books tells me he would have to be a warlock. And with that, my mind is on to dinner.

It’s hard to find a restaurant that will open its patio for dining when there is lighting in the area, but all the storm lovers know that this is the best time to be outside, the scent of the storm lingering, the clouds parting just in time to display the sunset, the pink sky in all her glory. We were seated at a yellow table, sound of dripping gutters and damp streets in the background. In the distance I see a man smoking a cigarette on his front porch. I observe him, wondering what he sees from that porch, what his house and heart are like on the inside. What a strange way for us to meet in this life, me and this man. To me, he is just the man on the porch.

And to him, I am just the girl in the yellow skirt. If I am anything at all.

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84 percent of employees plan to look for a new job this year.

What?!

I must have read that wrong. Am I incurring dyslexia at a young age? It must be 48 percent (and even that seems high). I re-read it, again, and again, eight times I re-read it.

Nope, eight out of every ten people you know want a new job, want a better job (one can’t decide I guess and the other is satisfied). That’s staggering to me.

But I think it correlates to one thing we talk about on this blog a lot: that we, as an American people, always want more. More money, more power, more cars, more square footage. The list goes on and on.

I’m not saying ambition is something to be sneered at, ambition is part of what drives people to accomplish great things and change the world, on some level, for the better.

Here’s my take on that 84 percent thing: I don’t think people are unsatisfied in their specific workplace, I think they’re unsatisfied by how much money they make and what they spend their time doing. For example, you could pay me $700,000 a year to stand on a street corner and be the dancing Little Ceasar’s guy and there’s no way I would to it.

You might be saying, “that’s crazy Kyle!” – and you might be right. But to me satisfaction in our work comes not from how bloated our pay stubs are or how prestigious our companies may be.

No, satisfaction in our work comes singularly from whether or not you love the work, whether you’re proud of it, whether or not you find yourself getting lost for hours at a time in it.

If you do that kind of work and have figured out how to get paid for it (even a minuscule amount), well, you’re one of the lucky ones. You shouldn’t be in the 84 percent.

This morning, I have three thoughts.

1. Mornings are much more beautiful than the evenings. There’s something so wonderful about getting out before the rest of the world is awake, smelling the fresh dew, seeing all of creation come alive for the day. This leads me to conclude that I should go to bed earlier and spend more time in the mornings reading, writing, and walking. This, as we all know, is much easier said than done.

2. Being 28 years old does not make you too old to decide what you want to do with your life. Sometimes I forget that one does not have to make all life and career decisions by the age of 21. Crazy, isn’t it? If you’re forgetting this, read Jon Acuff’s article on why you’re the perfect age to chase your dream here.

3. Holidays don’t have to fit the holiday mold every year. I wish I could make a Jell-o mold joke, but I don’t have one. I can’t imagine them being especially funny anyway. Because of timing and schedules, we won’t be going to either hometown for Easter Sunday. We will, however, be celebrating an Easter lunch with several families in our small group who will also be staying here. And for some reason, it still feels a little like family. Must be the work of Christ or something.

Happy Monday, readers! What are your plans for Easter?

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This week, even more than normal weeks, you have earned the official title of Husband o’ the Year. I know I’ve never been married to anyone else, but even if I had, I think you’d still win hands down. I feel like I haven’t stopped working or going places this week, and I’m in total awe of your ability to make our house sparkly without me asking and your ability to make dinners out of nothing. I still can’t believe we haven’t gone grocery shopping in almost two weeks, but I guess maybe we’re the reason God invented eggs. So many possibilities.

I’m really sorry about losing my house key and having to wake you up at 2am after my adventures of babysitting little Lively. I’m not quite sure what happened to my key, but I think it’s still somewhere in the universe of dog sitting and house guests and Masters gear pickups. We can only leave it in the mailbox so many times before the Mailbox Monster eats it. It was kind of fun to wake you up and see you all sleepy- something I rarely get to experience when you sleep only 5 hours every night. Thanks for listening to my “I’m going to be a terrible mom pajama incident” rant in the middle of the night- I no longer think her screams of terror mean she was possessed, which is great for her. I just hope she doesn’t harbor any anger toward me. Or the pajamas. They were really cute.

I love watching you play softball with your friends. I know I almost stayed home this week from the late game, but I always enjoy cheering for you and hearing the other wives brag on your swinging form. Batting form? I know I sometimes forget to look when you do the good things, but the girls always tell me when to look up from my embroidery and watch you bat. Another reason why living in fellowship is a wonderful idea.

I know we’ve found ourselves with so little time together lately, but this season of life finds us with so many words to write, so much time to work, so many summer parties, and so little space in our schedules for just hanging out. I’m happy to grab those times with you whenever we find the chance, just as long as it involves ice cream.

Forever and ever babe-

Me

The Market from Terje Sorgjerd on Vimeo.

Ever since I was quite young, I’ve found myself always looking toward the next thing. The moment I get bored with something, I start looking for something else to do, usually to the chagrin of family, friends, teachers, and employers. Sometimes it takes ten minutes, sometimes a year, but eventually, the only excitement my heart finds in my tasks is thinking about the next one.

Sometimes it affects me in small ways. Only half the dishes are finished when I get the divine inspiration for a new skirt that gets laid aside when I run out of thread which leads me to Joann’s to buy more where I get the inspiration to make some new pillowcases which leaves the skirt in my unfinished project box. The pillowcases take me longer than planned, which leads to me thinking about cooking dinner which leads me back to the fact that our dishes aren’t all clean and that I need to get food from the store. This leads to half a table of dinner and half a table of random sewing projects.

And sometimes it’s much bigger than that. I get a job that’s exciting for a few months and then it becomes monotonous. I start thinking about the next step which leads me to questions like, “What if I went back to school? What if I had a child? What if I started my own business? What if we moved to [insert state or country of your choice here]? What if I wrote a novel?” usually all in that order and within a five minute timespan.

My husband is so driven. He sets his mind to something and he sticks with it, seeing it to fruition with discipline and unshaken devotion. I. Don’t. Understand. It. I only wish I could decide on any one thing and finish it. As it is, I feel destined for nothing but a swirly, unsettled life.

Oh, to have a heart less restless.

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I’ll spare you the details because that’s not what I want to talk about. What I want to talk about is this idea put forth by one girl in our group in the midst of the discussion.

She said something along the lines of, “we should be grateful for the houses we live in and space we have for our families because millions of people in other countries aren’t afforded such things.”

I was instantaneously confounded, not by what she said (it’s true), but by this idea that all our lives we essentially work to buy bigger houses and more space for our families.

We get better jobs and purchase larger homes, even when we haven’t the slightest inkling with what to do with all our room.

I guess my question is, why do more American families not live communally? And do families in other countries (heck, other states) live communally because they have to, or because they want to?

I think it’s easy to assume they do it because they have to. That makes us feel better about our unnecessary square footage and mountainous mortgages we have piled up, but I’d like to know what the truth is.

Now we aren’t planning on buying a 12-bedroom home and inviting all the couples from our home group to move in (like these people). That would be madness. I just think the questions need to be asked.

I think it’s important to challenge the status quo even when nothing comes of it in the end. I think it’s important to question what we do and why we do it. I think Jesus thinks so too.

We have a few mirrors scattered throughout our little space, but none that help at all with full wardrobe decisions. If this had happened with my knowledge, if I had broken the one I had or if a mirror bandit came in and stole it, I would have been quite upset and gone out to buy a new one. But as it is, I don’t actually miss it.

In exploring this more, I have found a few things:

1. Getting ready is much more enjoyable. I spend much less time trying things on. In fact, I have found myself doing something I never did before: pulling something out of my closet, putting it on, and wearing it for the rest of the day. For guys, this sounds ridiculous since you do this all the time, but there isn’t one girl out there who hasn’t piled her bed full of tried-on clothes, only to find that nothing in her closet is acceptable.

2. I don’t really care if I don’t look perfect. This could be a combination of phenomenons. For one, I am married, so I just care a little less about trying to impress people, boys specifically. For another, I have now worked two jobs in a row that allow me to wear jeans to work. I will never go back. Also, the less often I stare at myself in the mirror, the more I like the way I look.

3. I don’t always want to run out and buy new clothes. This is quite fortunate, considering my vow to buy used clothing is still in effect for another few months. I’m not even sure I look good in skinny jeans, but having them on means that I’m clothed. And that’s really all that matters.

I once heard a quote that has come to mind quite often in the last few months. I can’t remember the words exactly or even who spoke them, but they were something to this effect:

“Any time you’re worried about what to wear for a certain occasion, just remember: Everyone else will be too caught up in what they’re wearing to even notice.”

And that, my friends, seems to always ring true.

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That said, road trips do make for a lot of great conversation, great snacks, and creative ways to pass the time. Husband usually prefers games like 20 Questions while I go more for the low key state tag games. Mostly because I can nap mid-game if I like.

Happy Monday readers! What are some of your favorite road trip games?

I was so proud of you today when you pointed out to Becca that the guy with all the logos on his clothes was Lee Westwood and he is indeed from that country across the pond.

Then I laughed when you tried to rationalize young Rickie Fowler’s multi-colored day three attire by saying, “well it wasn’t worse than Friday’s rainbow infestation.”

Your irrational love for K.J. Choi hasn’t wavered I see as you started quietly chanting “My boy Choi! My boy Choi!” while he ambled up towards us late in the afternoon.

We had a blast downing “domestic light brews” (because Heaven forbid the Masters label their drinks with a corporate sponsor) and trading our thoughts on the last ten groups as we sat in the third row on #16, Redbud as the locals call it.

I showed you Eisenhower’s tree and you spat Tiger stats at me while we trolled the course. Oh, and I’m sorry about my cigar smoke, I know it’s not your favorite.

Enjoy sleeping in this morning while Chad and I cut through the morning darkness towards the course to strategically place our seats so we can enjoy them later on.

I’m enthralled with this day, Sunday at the Masters, as you well know by now. It’s my favorite day of the year and it’s not close. You can’t name five other sporting events combined that I’d trade today’s tickets for.

Thanks for accompanying me to Augusta again this year. I’d come with anyone but you’re always my number one choice.

It’s now girl breakfast time with Panini pressed muffins and lattes on the patio in downtown Augusta. Motorcycles keep driving down the sidewalk and we’re making small talk with the locals. Something about a nephew and a job and living here since 1968. There are church bells in the background and antique shops calling our name.

This is Augusta for me.

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I’ll save you the prose and not drone on about how the green at Augusta is somehow greener than it is anywhere else, and so on and so forth ( you can read about that here). I did, however, come up with my 8 favorite things about taking my wife to the Masters.

1. I was chided on Monday when I told her I wanted to follow Peter Uihlein, Rickie Fowler, and other OSU golfers around on Friday (our first day). I believe her exact words were, “I want to follow K.J. Choi, do you even love me?” The look on my face was similar to what I imagine it would have been had she told me she was pregnant.

2. For those of you now wondering, K.J. Choi is a semi-successful journeyman PGA professional to whom Jen had no viable ties before last year. She quickly jumped on the bandwagon (because he was playing Tiger and she “always roots for the underdog”) and apparently hasn’t jumped off.

3. Walking in the merchandise tent and hearing her say, “no woman under 60 should ever have to wear a polo.”

4. Playing the “how many golfers can you name” game on the drive to Georgia. Last year it was seven, I expect double digits this year.

5. That she’s as infatuated with the south (and specifically the old south) as I am.

6. Leaving her and Becca in our hotel while Chad and I (Chad and Becca are the couple we’re attending with this year) leave at 5:30 AM to set our seats up for Sunday.

7. Stuffing our faces with $1.25 pimiento cheese sandwiches and $1.00 chocolate chip cookies all day.

8. That Augusta National is the most perfect place on earth.

So look for us on Sunday (or Saturday or Friday). We’ll be sitting on #16 to the left-hand side. I’ll have on a yellow hat and be cheering irrationally when anyone who attended Oklahoma State passes through our hole. Jen will have the binocs out trying to spot K.J. on another hole, or so she’ll say. I know in reality she’s really going to be eying Australia’s most eligible golfing bachelor, Adam Scott…

Last Friday was our getaway day, which is really only a day that we’re both off work and one of us wants to go somewhere more adventurous than Whole Foods or Joann Fabrics. Last Friday was one of those days. We chose Canton First Mondays, a giant, once-a-month flea market about an hour and a half east of Dallas. And here are some things we found.

1. Jalapeno Cheese Bread made by our friends, the Amish.

They might not know they’re our friends, but I feel such a strong connection with them that I sometimes wonder if I was supposed to be born Amish. It could be all the documentaries I’ve watched, though I’m thinking it’s something more innate. We passed on buying their handmade butter and cheese (still regretting that decision), and are now on the hunt for a jalapeno cheese bread recipe.

2. Globo Globe

The little beauty now sits atop our newly painted computer armoire. Globes have been on my radar for quite some time, though I had yet to come across one I really loved. This was it. It is no good for reference- it still has things like East Germany and West Germany, along with the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, but to us it is perfect. Reality has no place in our world. Or our globe.

3. Vintage Ironing Board

      

I waited 9 months after marriage to purchase an ironing board. Yes, it’s sad and yes, I found this one in month ten. So if anyone is looking for an ironing board from Target, we now have one for sale or lease.

4. Sewing books

I didn’t actually purchase these since I have a cabinet full at home, but aren’t they perfect? I imagined myself as a housewife in the 50′s as I flipped through to learn how to darn my husband’s socks and make cloth napkins. And then I realized I’m really not that different except that I lack the clothing and hair. Me and little Betty Draper- one and the same.

Altogether it was a day of treasure hunting and good conversation and sunburns. Kyle got voted “Husband of the Year” by a lady who, sadly, had to carry her own finds. As she saw us walking toward our car, she yelled, “Now that’s a great husband!” I have to fight the old women off with a stick.

Thank you, Canton, for another successful trip. Long live great finds and long live the Amish.

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As we were thinking through the process of buying used clothing, it struck me that it’s sort of like making sushi. Remember the post a few weeks ago? The most difficult part of making sushi is finding the initial ingredients in your store. Once you know where they are, you can make them part of your grocery list, pick them up quickly, and make sushi part of your life on a regular basis.

The same could be said for thrifting. It can be super frustrating if you spend all your time searching for the things you want. But once you find those few perfect places, the odds of you finding something you love increase greatly. You can make more regular trips to a few shops, spending more time choosing between great things instead of desperately digging for anything worthwhile.

This has spurred more conversation about our next year. Should we make a new pledge? Not buy anything new for one year? Buy only clothing new but nothing else?

What’s one thing you would never buy used?

Also, click the Thrifty Pledge below for a link to one of our favorite thrifters.

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This, however, does not make me want to crawl back into bed. Enter: our new computer armoire. Technically speaking, it’s not that new anymore. We purchased it off Craigslist, and it’s probably been at least 3 months since I helped Kyle bring it inside, my end dragging significantly, both praying that we wouldn’t have to take the whole thing apart to get it in the door. It has been the best solution to our tiny space issue, and it’s so nice to be able to shut the doors and hide our computer when friends come over. And also to hide all the things we throw in there to clean up before they get here.

I decided, based on this post by Jordan Ferney, that I would paint our little find. I initially regretted the use of semi-gloss paint, though it’s starting to stick less and wear better as time goes on. A few touchups will be necessary in the coming years unless we chalk up all the marks to “giving it character,” our immediate recovery phrase for anything that goes differently than we had initially hoped.

Have you done any projects in the past few weeks?

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People think we’re crazy. I think they might be right, but it’s the only way I know to live this life with you. Prepare yourself, for I think the next few years are only going to warrant more crazy talk, from the careers we choose to how we raise our littles to the strange things we buy to go in our strange little house. It can’t be helped and it mustn’t be fretted about, for we know but one way to live and we’ll just have to do it. And that will be all of that.

I loved making our new friend this weekend, who, if I believed in reincarnation would definitely have been Ernest Hemingway, what with his beard and his rough old face. This time he’s gifted as a carpenter rather than a writer, because he knows what we know- that working with your hands is the best kind of work no matter the profession. I know God dropped us off in this city for a reason, but hearing him talk about working on his 1903 farmhouse just made this life seem so busy. We’ll keep putting the brakes on against the world while we’re here, but maybe someday we’ll buy that farmhouse. And maybe you could grow a beard.

Thanks for making me a smoothie this morning even though I had to beg you to do it. I know you wanted to volunteer, but I stole your joy in that, so I’m sorry. I won’t tell anyone your recipe of “a bunch of secret stuff.” Even though I think it was just blootleberries and milk.

Cheers to the next few weeks of life together. I love you to the moon.

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Also, has anyone ever seen John Paul White and Johnny Depp in the same room together?

The Civil Wars “Billie Jean” from Seth Tindol on Vimeo.

There’s a lot they don’t tell you going into marriage. For starters: how to buy a house, how to balance public transportation with owning vehicles, and how much to put in your respective fantasy sports/crafting budgets.

Side note: how did we go through four (or more) years of college and never have a primer on fundamental life decisions like home-buying and budget-balancing? I must have taken 39 hours of statistical analysis and I can literally not give you a one sentence synopsis of anything I learned. Are our priorities that messy or are these actual classes and I just managed to sleepwalk through everything?

There’s also a lot of future to be sized up: how much to put into retirement, which stocks to invest in, how to prepare for kiddos. The never-ending laundry list of what we must do to be successful is overwhelming. Because this is the case, there is plenty of room for fear and doubt to creep into your marriage, your relationship, even your individual lives. What if we aren’t reading the right books? What happens when truck #1 (or #2, or both) dies? What if I’m missing out on a great vacation by going on this one? What if my renters insurance doesn’t cover jewelry? What if…what if…what if?

We prepare, I’m not saying we don’t. We categorize our finances for the future in a responsible way. There’s a new car fund and a baby fund and a house fund. But we’ve made the conscious decision as a couple to not be overcome by worry or fear about what that future, or really what tomorrow, holds. In America in 2011 there’s too much to be fearful of or overwhelmed by. You’d just end up spending all your time paralyzed and never get anything done.

So we do our work, we hold ourselves accountable to the responsibilities we have as adults, and then we release from our grip that which is incapable of saving us to look to the only one who can.

What do you stress out about?

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The relationship between a husband wife is like that between Christ and the Church

Just for the record my personal favorite wedding ceremony analogy is:

These rings signify that your love is forever because they are in the shape of a circle and a circle never ends, it goes on forever

Okay, really, what if I put an onion ring around my wrist and call that my wedding onion and vow that our love will go on forever? I’m not judging you if you’ve said it or had it said at your ceremony, I’m just imploring young pastors across the nation to rescind that bit from their wedding repertoire. I’m begging, really.

Anyway, back to the Christ + Church analogy. I’ve been thinking lately about how a marriage is, in many ways, this physical manifestation of one’s relationship with the Lord.

There’s this Biblical concept that a person is progressively sanctified in Christ as he or she walks with Him day after day after day. This idea that one must be refined by the prodding of His hands and the wisdom of His ways.

Note: don’t let this be confused with positional sanctification, which is the acceptance of Jesus into one’s heart.

Never have I been more acutely aware that of the Biblical meaning of the words ‘progressive’ or ‘sanctification’ or ‘progressive sanctification’ than in the 300 days since I’ve been wed.

There is either a force pulling us to the end or a force pushing us from the beginning. Often I cannot tell. All I know is that we are headed somewhere and along the way it becomes imperative that we work things out to get there.

Now, “working things out” is a rather ambiguous term by which I simply mean: compromising disagreements, melding mutual ideas, and growing in Christ-like friendship.

It’s an opaque endeavor, and yet the most specific, clear thing in the world. You know what I mean if you’ve ever walked with God.

We measure our self-worth not by the influence of our social sphere but rather by the girth of that sphere, or how girth-y we can make it.

There is an obsession that we be immersed in as much as possible.

It’s taxing, really. Tiring too, but mostly mentally and emotionally taxing on our beings. As bloggers (and writers, because there’s a stark difference between the two) we’ve been learning this. You give and connect and work and grow this platform you’ve been blessed with because, for whatever reason, you think everyone in the world needs to hear what you have to say.

There’s a tricky balance to it. Not unlike a chef creating the proper ebb and flow of a delectable five-course meal.

We (as Americans in the 21st century) feel the need to expand our personal brands to the point that they become so diluted we don’t even know what we’re delivering anymore. We’re so obsessed with more (not more stuff, just more) that we don’t stop along the way to engage in the treasure of conversation to be had between new friends and good, threadbare relationships.

And that’s really the travesty in it all — that we miss out on slowing down to enjoy the fulfilling moments because we’re too busy trying to see how many moments we can accumulate.

So to you my wife, I’m sorry for putting Google analytics ahead of asking you about your walk with God. I’m sorry that I fall, so often, into this camouflaged pit of destructive behavior that society calls “success.”

And I’m sorry that I’ve let knowing people be easily replaced with following and reading people. It’s one of the great flaws my generation faces, but I have no excuses (and few solutions for that matter) to offer up.

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Here are some I added to my list last night (along with one whose title I can’t remember about overdiagnosis of ADHD in children)- What are you reading?

Ingredients:
Sushi rice (short grain Japanese rice)
Rice vinegar
Nori (Dry seaweed)
Fillings of your choice

Boil your rice according to package instructions. Some people prefer to add a little rice vinegar and sugar, but this step is optional. Once rice is cooked, spread rice onto a sheet of the nori. Yes, it’s sort of like a weird green paper that smells like tobacco, but just go with it. Make sure to leave about one inch of nori without rice in order to seal the roll.

Once your rice is spread, lay ingredients on top of your rice. Our favorites are rather simple- imitation crab meat, cucumber, avocado, or cream cheese. Feel free to try actual raw fish, just be careful to prepare it correctly!

Most recipes call for a bamboo mat to roll your finished product, but we just roll with our hands. It works great, plus there’s one less thing to wash. Definite bonus.

Slice with a serrated knife and enjoy!

We love to serve it with soy sauce and Wasabi, lighter on the Wasabi. Get a little too much and your nose will understand. Cheers for sushi at home and money saved by eating in.

Happy Monday! What are you guys making for dinner this week?

(Special thanks to my friend Shari for the recipe and encouragement to make these!)

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I had a lot of fun with you last night on our mini-date, eating Chick-Fil-A and watching the tournament games and subsequently The Fighter. My favorite part was when you were breaking down what Florida did incorrectly to lose to Butler. 1.) Because you were right and 2.) because it’s always cute to see you get all bent out of shape about a sporting event.

Speaking of the tournament, your tweet on Thursday when I went to play basketball with the boys was a classic, “Husband went to play basketball while I’m staying home to watch it on TV. I’m not really sure what happened but I think I’ve been Jimmered.” You have definitely been Jimmered.

Oh and thanks for understanding when I told you late last night that I have two fantasy baseball drafts tonight. You were borderline asleep so I may or may not have used that to my advantage but I appreciate you understanding anyway.

This week has been full of so many different things: conversations about our future occupational endeavors, dreaming about being in Augusta now instead of two weeks from now, girls night, boys night, softball practice, dog-sitting, and book-buying are but a snapshot of what we’ve been doing and working on the last seven days.

I love every second of it with you too. Surely I’ve said it before (and will undoubtedly utter it many times over in the next 60 years) but I could not have picked anyone better than you for me. Thank you for looking at my sin and darkness and choosing to continue teaching me and helping me and most of all, loving me.

AML,
Kyle

They were coming in on Tuesday afternoon and I had kind of been coordinating the activities for the week back and forth with them. On Monday, over lunch, I casually mentioned to Jen that I’d told this couple they could have a key to our apartment and come and go as they please. Here’s how that conversation went:

Me: “yeah, I’m just going to leave them a key when we see them tomorrow.”
Jen: “why?”
Me: “uh, so they don’t have to be locked out of our apartment all day.”
Jen: “why will they be at our apartment?”
Me: “because they’re staying with us?”
Jen: “$%@* what?!?!”
Me: “ruh roh”

Clearly I’d forgotten to slide the small tidbit that they would indeed be sleeping in our apartment into our conversation in the last week we’d talked about it. How? I have no idea. I only knew that I had a maniacal wife on my hands who suddenly had less than 24 hours to get our apartment ready for the guests, make sure the air mattress was ready, and buy food and wine for dinners.

I have to admit, it was a fairly humorous situation, given the levity involved. What’s not going to be so funny is one day when we get home from Target and one of us says, “did you get [young child to be named at a later date]?” and the other says, “what?! I thought you got [him or her]!!” and we’re driving 85 MPH in a residential area to correct our communication mistake.

So on this Friday, to you my wife I promise to be more assertive with my words and punctual with my thoughts. And here’s to [boy or girl to be named] never wailing away on a Target aisle while we stare at each other in fear by ourselves in our home.

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Okay God, I’m trying to have an open mind here. But every time we walk into the apartment to feed her and take her out, I’m praying that she doesn’t eat us alive. That’s right, she’s nothing cute like a cocker spaniel or one of those dogs that’s so fuzzy you can’t tell where their fur ends and they begin. No, this is a larger-than-life, probably-weighs-more-than-me can’t-tell-what-breed-she-is gigantic mut named Roxy. The first time we walked in to take her out, she let out the deepest growl I’d ever heard and I really just prayed that we wouldn’t end up in the ER or have to kill this dog we promised to watch over. I just keep reminding God that we won’t be very close with our neighbor if he comes home to a stuffed dog versus the real one he left in our care. Even though the thought makes me giggle.

There are several things I don’t understand about this scenario, starting with why you would own a giganto dog when you plan to leave the 48 contiguous states for weeks at a time. While our neighbor is traipsing the isles of Hawaii, we’re risking our extremities to feed and nurture his dog. Also- why would he choose us to dog sit when every other person in the building actually owns a dog? Who can really say? Maybe the lack of a dog screams, “Aw, this poor couple doesn’t have a dog to play with. I’ll let them hang with Roxy for the next few weeks.” When all it actually means is that I don’t particularly enjoy the canine family and choose to live dog free for the sake of my furniture and my marriage. But those are just little details.

God- I know this is an answered prayer, so I’m trying to accept while not kicking and screaming. At the dog or at you. I’m willing to do this. But I really hope you come through big time.

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We don’t have any deck chairs (or a deck for that matter) but we’ve been heeding his advice as of late and spending more time under the sky than under our roof.

Jen and I tend to look at taking walks from two vastly different perspectives. Because I love playing sports like basketball and tennis I see them as a mundane form of exercise, not unlike a chef would sneer at a mere peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Because the extent of Jen’s sporting experience includes “that one time she threw an intramural touchdown pass” she tends to look at mile-long walks as an activity of strenuous proportions.

No matter, I think we’ve found some middle ground. No pun intended. The last few weeks have been fraught with lengthy strolls in woodsy areas. Along golf courses, through neighborhoods lined with opulent homes, and just-around-the-block-and-back.

We’ve been talking more and sitting less and I have to tell you, it’s been really good for our marriage. We talk about where we want to live and what we want to do and how many kiddos we want to bring forth (that’s usually a quick convo).

Walks are great for emptying the emotional tank (mostly because there are no doors to slam or pots to sling) and catching up on where we are in marriage and where we are in our metaphorical walks with the Lord.

So to all of you who are dating or married let me suggest that you take at least one walk this week. It matters not where you go or how you get there, only that you’re together and talking and working out the sanctification of your marriage.

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5 Things_Expectations from Cross Point Church on Vimeo.

What are some expectations you had going into marriage?

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1. Use the tiny space we have to carve out more creative nooks and store small children.

We’re doing pretty well with the small space we have, but I love the idea of having at least two littles while we still live here, mostly because people think we couldn’t.

Jordan Ferney‘s little boys sleep in a closet. She gets reamed for it daily, but I just adore it.

I’m dying for a space like this, or anything that’s a tiny version of what’s seen below. Right now, the only option for a sewing nook is our bedroom or the dining room, which leaves Kyle without sleep or both of us without dinners like adults at a table. Dilemmas.

2. Buy a house somewhere and have lots of space for writing, running around, and creating.

I would have a whole room full of color and Kyle would have a man cave with many televisions and Blue Moon on tap. We’d hardly remember the other existed if we had walls between us, which, for a few hours a day, might be hugely beneficial to the state of our marriage.

3. Buy an Airstream and travel the country, living wherever the seasons take us.

This might be my favorite option so far, and I love the idea of living minimally while seeing the country as Kyle blogs and I sell crafties to whoever will buy them. I found a 23-foot long Airstream online yesterday and I almost bought it. Except that I have limited access to our funds and my craft budget simply wouldn’t cover it.

From The Room Vote

Would you ever live in an Airstream?

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I know you don’t understand the importance of Gonzaga and BYU shooting an orange object through a hanging cylindrical cut of metal but thanks for pretending like you do. And thanks for breaking down the end of the Pittsburgh Butler game for us. I’m going to try and get you on with the CBS guys next year.

It’s been really fun learning with you over the last year that it isn’t whether or not we get to spend solid quality time together every day but rather when we do that I treat it as such. Sorry for when I’m trying to do 44 things at once.

I know I said you could spend $50 at the fabric store yesterday but I appreciate you being conscientious of our budget (and upcoming Masters trip) and only spending $35. And I can’t wait to see what you make for your new project.

Speaking of projects, I can’t wait until we can buy a house and I can build hire someone to build you a sewing/crafting/awesomeness room. And I can’t wait to have my own real office with a huge wooden desk that makes our big-screen computer look tiny.

Lastly dear wife, I hope you had as much fun with our friends this week as I did. Traipsing about Dallas, acting like we knew a lot more about it than we did, playing spades, drinking beers from five different continents, eating cheap Mexican food, and streaming Tournament games over the computer is always better with the Godly peers you hold closest in your life.

I know you feel the same.

Love, husband

A Brief History of Title Design from Ian Albinson on Vimeo.

I’m writing from the office of my in-laws, looking out their window onto the quiet goings on of a beautiful old neighborhood with the tallest, skinniest trees you’ve ever seen. They have a large yard and an office (can we please acknowledge that again??) and I can hardly help but compare it to our tiny, dark armoire stuck in the corner of our living room. For the next few days, we write in freedom and space and lots of light.

There are a few things I always look forward to about a weekend away- time together, relaxation, a break from normal schedules, and exploring new things. Somehow, I think maybe this weekend will be different, though I’m trying not to resent the NCAA for existing or doing what it thinks are fun things. I’m just trying to figure out at what point no one will notice I’m gone and I can sew or walk or shop in freedom. And if I catch a game or two, it might not be the end of the world. I’m just not looking to make a Jen shaped indent in the couch.

Here’s to sports in moderation and weekends away from the normal.

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Here are our Final Four picks with the reasoning behind each one. Happy March!

Kyle

Ohio St. – Best freshman duo in the country with Sullinger and Craft.
Kansas – Feeling it after storming through the Big 12 Tournament.
Duke – Their guards are ridiculously good and super-frosh Kyrie Irving is back.
Wisconsin – I changed this at the last second when I found out Kansas State’s star guard has the flu…

Jen

UConn – Because Connecticut is where Gilmore Girls took place.
Pittsburgh – Although she said she wouldn’t have picked them if she’d known people call them “Pitt.”
Kansas – Because I like Big 12 teams.
North Carolina – That’s where she wants to go on vacation this year…

So there are our picks, sure to fail on their own but probably pretty good when meshed together.

Enjoy the madness.

At the beginning of our relationship I think I viewed this as an inadequacy. Why doesn’t she get me good gifts after I send her on week-long scavenger hunts? I looked at it as a manifestation of where her love for me was coming up short instead of realizing it just wasn’t part of her make-up.

Jen is, and you have to understand this completely to understand where I’m coming from, the most abstractly creative person I know. That is, she can create and draw ideas and concepts in her head and then build those ideas into real-life material objects. I would say for every craft or project she makes she probably has twenty others that never make it out of her head. It’s just how she’s wired. I could barely think this sentence out in my head before typing it and she’s drawing 3D objects.

So for her to show me love is for her to say, “hey, I had this idea for our apartment” or “why don’t you do this with your blog” or “let’s handle our family in this way” because I know she’s thinking upon such things. The problem with deadline gifts is that the ideas have to come to her. She can’t force them. They just…happen. Trust me, I don’t understand it any more than you do.

So to you my wife, thank you for helping me learn that you don’t giftFAIL because you don’t love me, but rather because the ideas didn’t come at the appropriate time. And thank you for showing me that the older we get, the less it matters, and the more we must focus on the Lord rather than each other.

In the last few weeks, I’ve dropped bowls (RIP pretty blue bowl), cracked coffee mugs, and swept up some of my favorite dishes, reduced to crumbs after being dropped or tipped over in living life. But when I start to get attached, I remember this:

One day a few years ago, I had the privilege of visiting one of the most creative houses I’ve ever been to. Every room was painted a different bright color, wallpaper was made from pages of magazines and books, and every piece of furniture had personality. When asked if we could eat in the living room, the owner simply stated, “We don’t really have rules around here. If we break something, we just turn it into something else.”

Now I know how many of us are cringing at this moment, thinking of that very pretty couch we don’t want spilled on or that antique serving dish we love so much. But just when I start to feel my heart ache over something lost, I remember her words and immediately try to picture the little pieces as something completely new. I’ve started a collection of reusable broken things to be used at my creative whim, and my pretty blue bowl above is now serving as a soap dish in our bathroom. Sure the edges are a little sharp, but we have plenty of fabric to stop any accidental bleeding. Totally worth it in my book.

What’s your favorite thing you’ve accidentally broken?

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Today you are 26. It’s still very strange to me that you’ll always be younger than me, but this is the one sport in which I’m better than you. That is if you consider birthday having a sport, which I do. I’m sorry for the two failed attempts at gifts this year, though it was fun to tell you about them and really fun to plan you a Masters Preview picnic instead. The only snafu in this plan happened when my debit card was denied at the grocery store, though my text of, “Are we having financial difficulties!?!” was met with the confident answer that you simply had to move some funds around. I’m still not quite sure what this means, but hopefully we have a secret stash of a million dollars wherefrom you pull extra cash when I take a cooking class or go overboard on my fabric budget.

The pimento cheese sandwiches and domestic light beer with chocolate chip cookies were the best ways I knew to say I loved you this year. I know our trip in April is what you’re looking forward to most, and I still feel a little guilty about my promise to buy you a new Masters polo during our year of thrift store only shopping. I think we made up for it by promising to get rid of two older things in your closet, but this year will be forever tainted by the pastel mass of cotton soon to grace your closet shelves. We are becoming weak.

Today, more than our wedding day, I love who you are, admire your discipline, respect your convictions, and have even more fun with you that when our love was just beginning. Thanks for making marriage easy most days and challenging me to be better at everything.

You are my sunshine.

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This week I lamented the lack of sufficient systems within our marriage which made you recoil in horror because you’re not as nerdy as me and think we already have too many. Marriage, where arguments over spreadsheets happen.

Thanks for watching basketball with me last night after you got done with your girl date. I know you probably get tired of it, but I have to say, when you get all serious and try to give legitimate sports analysis, it really makes me giggle.

I’m super excited about the time change because it means many more nights sitting and talking on the front porch of our apartment. Or, actually you sitting and me honing my golf swing…either way we’ll still have good conversation.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, last night you said you really loved the dog we’re currently dog-sitting and wanted one if we ever get a house. I was scared it might be the wine talking so I made you sign and date a piece of paper that will resurface at the appropriate time I’m sure.

I’ve also been wanting to tell you that I’m so proud of you for being brave and engaged in the world around you. I get so lost in my little sports blog sometimes but I can always count on you to drag me out and re-introduce me to real life. I love you for that.

Lastly, this is our 284th post in the last 9+ months, you’re a champ.

AML,
KP

Ray LaMontagne on talent and hard work from KindaMuzikTV on Vimeo.

This week I have found myself wishing I had a secret stash of money with which to purchase Kyle’s birthday gifts. Sneaking around is no fun, especially when your husband does the budget and knows that you don’t normally make any sort of purchase at Dick’s Sporting Goods on a regular basis. I’m not usually the best gifter. I know- I don’t understand it either. I have all these creative juices flowing incessantly, but when it comes to giving gifts to loved ones, my juices turn to icicles. The handheld head scratcher I got my mom for her birthday one year? It’s made for a great family joke. The reusable lunch bag I made Kyle for Christmas this year? Already retired because his coworkers told him it looked like a purse.

It’s true- I’m not the best person to be married to if you want really awesome gifts. But this year I’ve really tried. All the odds are stacked against me, all the retail chains in America are enticing me with crap he’ll never use, but I press on.

Good luck this year, my darling. Maybe, just maybe, this will be the year to get me on track for great gift giving. But if all else fails, please remember this: There’s always next year.

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Much of the discussion centered around a portion of the Bible in which the Israelites were exiled to Babylon and then instructed that they were to,

…seek the welfare of the city…and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. (Jeremiah 29:7)

As we talked about what this means for us in our place in 2011 society of Dallas, Texas and what our group could do to “better” the neighborhoods and cultural pockets we reside in I was struck by a few things.

The first is this idea that the growth of our faith is fully played out within our small homogenous church groups. It’s not. I would argue that progressive sanctification is more likely to take place outside of these comfortable parameters we’ve laid for ourselves than it is within them. Progressive sanctification is more Derek Webb than it is Hillsong United.

The other thing that struck me is that Jen and I have this blog that’s read by hundreds of people each day who sometimes know more about our lives than we do ourselves and yet I can’t tell you any of the first names of the people who sleep in our eight-room apartment building.

That’s sad and needs to change.

So to my lovely wife I herein charge you with the burden of helping me reinforce our spiritual backbone and to pray for the courage to ask our God for help when we haven’t the strength to do so ourselves.

How to Make Your Own Butter
(via Prudent Baby)

Check out the tutorial on their website. Have any of you ever made your own butter?

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Some roles come easier than others depending on the day, but I’m finding that most things that apply to one apply to all the others. This theory gives credence to the fact that I feel sorry for only children who find themselves in the midst of marriage. They’ve had much less practice than the rest of us.

2. When we go to sleep at the same time, our marriage feels a lot more successful.

I write this after having fallen asleep at 8:30 last night while Kyle didn’t come to bed until the wee hours of the morning. It’s difficult to do most days (especially when running two blogs and requiring different amounts of sleep) but there’s nothing that compares with the half hour before sleep. We get to break down the day together, laugh about weird things that happened, talk about the future. And those times are our favorite part of any day.

3. When painting a piece of furniture, use a matte finish.

After spending countless hours painting a computer armoire that isn’t quite finished yet, we’re finding that all my work is useless when things stick to its semi-gloss finish and peel the paint off. I really think this can be helped with a matte finish, though I really wish I would have read more about it before I started. Chalk this one up to my stubborn self thinking I can conquer anything with a gallon of paint.

4. Keeping a house clean requires your constant attention.

I know my mom is laughing at this one because I’m finally getting to practice what she’s known for years, but if I want to have a clean house, I really can’t stop cleaning. Dishes are continually needing done. Things are always being left in the living room, laundry never stops piling up, and how does the bathroom sink look that dirty so quickly? Then there’s sweeping, mail, bed making, shoe pick ups, and the endless string of craft supplies throughout the house. And there are only two of us. Hug a mom today. They deserve it.

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Jen: “yeah, I got Lady for ‘famous females’”
Me: “who?
Jen: “you know, ‘Lady’ from ‘Lady and the Tramp’”
Kyle: “okay, first of all, she’s not famous. Second, she’s not real. And third, she’s not even human.”
Jen: “whatever, I’m counting it.”
Kyle: “[usually shouting by now] Okay well then I’m done playing if you’re going to blatantly alter the rules of the game to your advantage!”

{cut scene}

Next day…
Kyle: “yo”
Jen: “she’s real to me!”

We’ve come a long way since those days and still have a long way to go. I guess the point of this post was to ask you guys what your favorite games are and I started Jesus Juking all over the place.

So here’s a Cliffs notes version of our favorites:

1. Scattergories – even though Jen never wins…
2. Bananagrams – (see above, replace ‘never’ with ‘rarely’)
3. Catch Phrase

We’ve been looking to mix it up a little bit though so tell us what yours are in the comments section…

I know weddings aren’t always my favorite thing and that I’ve often won the award for worst bridesmaid amongst my friends, but this weekend was really fun with you. I think maybe now that we’re married, the wedding itself holds a little more meaning and a lot more emotion. Let’s be real- I always cry at weddings, but when you hear the pastor talk about marriage representing Christ and his church, it stirs up so much within me to remember that we get to live this out every day.

Chalk this wedding up as another that proves rehearsal dinners are the best part of any wedding. More intimate crowds combined with a more relaxed atmosphere plus time for conversation plus a lack of scheduled photo shoots plus a lack of scheduled anything and really heartfelt toasts? Any day. I’ll do that any day.

I write all this without my wedding ring on, and can’t actually quite remember where I left it. This always turns out to be a little funny, but I know the day is coming when I lose it for too long to be considered humorous. Good thing it doesn’t hold all my love in it.

Not sure why you married me because sometimes it’s like babysitting,

Your bride

What is being creative? from Kristian Ulrich Larsen on Vimeo.

Untitled from Marriage Project on Vimeo.

Untitled from Marriage Project on Vimeo.

We haven’t had internet for about 48 hours. I have no idea why or what the problem is. I’ve tried everything I know to fix it and come up empty-handed each time. Thankfully, our internet service provider provides online chat support which is wildly helpful so we should get the issue solved shortly.

In the meantime though it makes for some interesting blogging days. Uhhh, I’ll go to Barnes & Noble tonight at 10 and use their Wi-Fi but not buy anything. Okay, you put together a few posts, put them on a flash drive, and I’ll upload them at the coffee shop on our laptop in the morning. Sometimes we just resort to typing things out on our phones. I know, I know, privileged first world people problems.

But still problems, and frustrations. More of the latter than the former. Here’s the thing though, because we (and by “we” I mean Jen and I and most of the people reading this blog) have been blessed with so much material wealth we find ourselves leaning on that wealth to prop up our deepest desires for joy.

Is it imperative that we have the internet at our house? No, but it is convenient, and for some reason we think we’re entitled to the most convenient, easy lives imaginable. Jesus even called people like us, who get frustrated when their broadband 100000000 gigabyte (I don’t know if this is a thing?) internet doesn’t work in .0002 seconds, out in Luke when talking to a man who probably had sundial-up (thank you, I’ll be here til June),

When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich. Jesus, seeing that he had become sad, said, “How difficult it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!

It’s not that we have things, it’s that we cling to them as if they can save us.

That might have been two Jesus Jukes, my bad.

At midnight last night for one second (or at least that’s the way I calculate it in my head) we celebrated the three year anniversary of our first date. Leap year days make it easier to remember anything, especially when it comes to first dates. I still remember coming to pick you up for a trip to Tulsa to hang out with our friends. There was so much tension between me and you, the kind that comes only from the sort of love that blossoms out of really cool friendships and a lot of coffee dates. This was the same driveway in which you would ask me to be your girlfriend several months later, but that day it was simply a driveway, now hopefully a home with kids who ride their bikes and play basketball every day. But then it was the driveway of 5 college boys who had no plans for the future and only dreams of winning the next tournament of FIFA soccer. But as we got ready to leave, I remember you stumbling through the fact that you thought of our 4 friend hangout as more than that. And I remember how I hugged you so tightly- our very first real hug- and then held my breath until you got in the other side of the car.

We were so late. Mostly because my taillights kept going out periodically, at which point I would pull over, jump out, and change the fuses. A moment, as I remember, when you were completely in awe that I knew anything about changing fuses or broken lights. I never told you that’s really all I knew about cars, though I would guess you’ve figured it out by now. And after many attempts at fixing the lights, we had to turn around and take your truck- the way I think it should have been from the beginning. Maybe it was God’s way of letting you lead me to Tulsa and into a relationship with you.

I think it was the most silent I’ve ever been on a car ride with you, except for the times when I’ve been severely frustrated. I just remember watching all the lights go by, hardly wanting the car ride to be over but so excited for our first date to begin. Happy three year anniversary of our first date on the invisible yesterday. I can’t believe you liked me then and still can’t believe you love me now.

All my love and all I am-
Your bride