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Life’s Little Surprises

We got a dog about a month ago.
Because that’s what people do when they’ve been married for a few months. It’s the inciting incident for children, I’m sure. If we can manage to take care of a puppy, surelywe can handle a kid. Right? Right….?!?!?!
I loveour puppy. 

I also want to punch him in the face at least 30% of the time.


meet Zeus at 6 weeks
Sometimes I fear it speaks to my character. What kind of person professes love for the cutest, fluffiest little creature and then two seconds later wants to throw him across the room when his little puppy teeth sink into my face?
Maybe I’m not alone in my bipolar emotions for our dog. Maybe they’re natural. Maybe they’re expected.
Maybe the frustration that ensues when I command him to come and he looks at me, blinks and runs the opposite direction doesn’t have to mean that I’m the worst human alive. Although…I can swear he’s smirking at me the whole time. And then, three seconds later, he’s melting my heart with those crazy puppy dog eyes.
The thing is—we want him to be a good dog. And while he’s a beautiful, playful and truly smart puppy… we know that if we don’t train him while he’s young, he’s going to be a giant terror.
Because not only did we get a dog a month ago…
We got a giant breed dog: a Great Pyrenees. His paws are already bigger than my face. In the four weeks we’ve had him, he’s doubled in weight. I can’t even begin to imagine the cumulative amount of hair that will soon be shedding from all of our bodies.
It’s kind of made marriage more awesome, though. Now we have this little thing that we are teaching together, raising up together, supporting together, and making memories with. We get proud of him and can’t wait for the other to see him do this new awesome trick or when he barks to be let out to go potty (that’s a big deal). We laugh a lot. Cuddle a lot. Discipline a lot. We’ve yelled more in the last four weeks than we have in our entire relationship. Just at the dog, of course.
meet Zeus at 10 weeks
I know a lot of people might say that dogs are a huge commitment and that they change everything… and yes. Both of these things are true. BUT, it’s been fully worth it. It’s caused us to have to communicate more and get on the same page about how we want to decide to do things as we teach this little pup to become a gentle giant.



We’re better for it.
We have something that’s ours.
Something we feel incredibly blessed by.
Something we are invested in together.
Something that reminds us even more of our selfishness and our own need for grace and discipline as we figure out what it means to grow deeper in our own journey of longing to be more like Christ.
Perhaps it is the inciting incident.
Only time will tell.
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To My 22-year-old Self

The Comment: 

I find myself (at 22) hitting that point in life where it seems that everyone I know is either A) Married, B)engaged, or C) in a serious relationship. I am still in school for my Bachelors, and the pressure is high to find someone during this time and that “there’s no other way.” To confess, I have very high “husband” standards, but have gone out on several occasions with young men who I know don’t share the same values, beliefs, and morals. I’ve had to ask myself the “why?” question, and I don’t like what my answer is: it’s usually along the lines of self-flattery and fun. 

I guess what my question is is what advice would you give to your younger self (or any 22 year old woman) in your years of singleness to honor The Lord in your coping with loneliness, a sex drive, and maybe even a hard heart and pride to go along with it.

Initially, my response is to tell my 22-year-old self to calm the heck down because my future husband is currently only 17. Five years honestly doesn’t feel like anything when I’m 30 and he’s 25, but when I noticed at Christmas that his high school graduation occurred a year after my COLLEGE graduation, I had to pause.. 

But, really…
22-year-old self, here’s what I would actually tell you: 

It’s okay. 
Really. Truly. 
And, beyond okay, what you’re entering into is better. Not better than all the young people who get married, but better for YOU right now. Because, 22-year-old self, you’re going to learn that there’s a whole lot more to life than marriage. You’re going to learn how it’s not the end goal of life. 

You’re going to get to see the world.
You’re going to get to be a part of changing people’s lives.
You’re going to get to sacrifice time, money, energy for the cause of Christ. Yes, you’re going to fight it. No, you won’t understand it. Yes, you’ll battle loneliness. No, it won’t destroy you. 

It’s okay. 
Even on the nights when you convince yourself that you’ll never find the right guy, when you declare your celibacy, when you question if your standards are too high… (after all, isn’t it better to be with someone even if it’s not the RIGHT someone?!). 

22-year-old self– NO. 
He’s probably somewhere (…maybe he’s still in high school). 
And he’s worth waiting for. He’s worth a thousand broken hearts and hopeless teary nights. Because he’s better than you ever thought possible. 

It’s not worth the messing around physically or playing with boundaries. Those things are temporary, fleeting. The way he makes you feel in that moment? The arousal? The teasing? The big questions of how far is too far? Leave it behind. This isn’t worth your time right now. Isn’t worth your energy. Isn’t worth the distraction. Your calling is greater than that. You are meant for more. 

22-year-old self…
You have bigger things to tend to. 
Discover who you are. Discover why you are the way you are. Figure out more about who the Lord is calling you to be and where He is leading you. 
And GO. 
Be willing.
Be obedient.
Run the race set before you. 

All of this love-y dove-y stuff will get sorted out.
Keep your high standards. Give guys a chance. 
But don’t let them become your drive, your focus, your everything. Maintain priorities. Maintain focus. Maintain perspective. 

Just because it feels like the rest of the world is “passing you by”, doesn’t mean that it’s true. Just because your path feels different, doesn’t mean that it’s worse. 

One day, you’ll be thankful for the years of singleness.
One day, you’ll wonder if you ever want to give them up. 
Because, one day, you’ll know the beauty of a life lived in attempts to be more like Jesus. One day you’ll recognize the ease that comes with making decisions, picking up and moving, finances, the opportunities that you’re able to seize without having to make sure someone else is on board. 
One day you’ll recognize that the life you got to live was better than you could have ever imagined for yourself, even if it’s very different from what you ever thought you wanted.
One day you’ll recognize how the Lord is far more faithful than you ever knew, especially when you doubted Him on those long, lonely nights. 

22-year-old self… you’re going to get to live life to the full. You’re going to get to grow up! 
Don’t wish it a way.
Don’t pine for something else. 
Dive in further into what the Lord has for you and trust that it is good. That He is good. His timing is perfect.
Forget the pressures around you.

Remember that a relationship status can never define you. 
Find your identity and your hope in the Giver of all good things–the One who saves, redeems and loves us beyond all comprehension. 

22-year-old self: 
There’s more to life, and I can’t wait for you to live it and learn from it. 

(And, let’s be honest, I could probably say this same stuff to myself from ages 20-29. It’s an ongoing battle as you seek to let go, trust, and walk into a purpose that’s bigger and better all the while learning, growing and understanding more about who God is and who I am in the process…) 

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The Birthday Questions

When I left graduate school after only a semester of being there, I knew I’d be hard to remember.

We’ve all had those people come into our lives for a short period…only to leave again, onto the next adventure. We say, “Remember that one girl who was here and wrote blogs about coffee dates and being single? What was her name again?”

As short as my time was in the Boston area, and as forgettable as I may have been to those I met and whom befriended me… it left permanent marks on me. They left permanent marks on me. Beyond Nick’s Famous Roast Beef or ultimate frisbee on Saturday mornings, I walked away different. Challenged. Ready. Confident.

There was more out there and I’d finally gotten a taste of it.
Some of the best things I took away from there were: The Birthday Questions.

If I’ve been around you on your birthday in the last year and a half, you’ve probably gotten asked two questions. They were questions asked to me on my 29th birthday… questions that made me think, open up, and take a chance. I can’t tell you where they originated, or even if these are the exact same questions that were actually asked (probably the case of the little game called “Telephone”), but I can assure you that I will ask some modification of them for a long, long time.

They are questions that some might ask themselves at New Year’s, but I like the idea of asking them upon everyone’s individual new year.

  1. What is the most important thing you’ve learned in the last year of your life?
  2. What is one thing you want to accomplish in the next year of your life? 
I’ve asked a lot of people these questions and gotten a lot of answers. Some people hate them. Hate thinking about it, hate giving an answer. Some people have too many things racing through their mind to just pick one. Some people are open, honest, thoughtful, insightful. Some people are outward thinkers, some people are inward thinkers. It’s really quite fascinating. 
Most recently, it was my father-in-laws birthday. Fortunately, I was around him… and fortunately, I got to ask him The Birthday Questions. 
I’ve gotten some really great responses to the second question. Answers that are inspiring and beautiful. However, I don’t think any response will ever be greater than the response my father-in-law gave. 
What is one thing you want to accomplish in the next year of your life? 

With no hesitation, he said, “I want to share the Gospel with more people than I ever have before.” 
Simple. 
But profound. 
How could that not be the one thing I want to accomplish every year? And how could it not have ever been the thing that I immediately thought of when asked that question?

I was struck by the humility in it.
I was struck by the ownership and responsibility he was taking with the calling on every Christian’s life. A calling I’m not as acutely aware of as I’d like to be, especially as I get wrapped up in all the things in life. All the “important” things. A calling that sometimes terrifies me. A calling that I sometimes turn from or avoid.

“I want to share the Gospel with more people than I ever have before.”

How could anything else matter more?

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Woven Stories

Once upon a time there was a wedding… 

I think all girls want their wedding day to be special, unique, something to be remembered.  More than anything, I wanted my wedding to point to something greater than me. I wanted it to point back to Jesus and the greatest romance of all. 

I wanted our wedding to tell a story. The only story that really matters. 
I had this dream of using Scripture to tell that story. The story of lives that are broken, shattered, searching for something, seeking to fill the void…the story of one redeemed. The story of how Jesus can take a life, change it, and set it on a path that’s continually filled with His goodness and faithfulness, even in the midst of running and doubting. 

It’s an unbelievable story, yet it perpetually happens over and over again. Hopefully it’s your story, too. 

Here’s ours. It’s what was read during our wedding ceremony by a older, wiser couple who has mentored us and loved us well. We hope you’ll take the time to read, absorb, and let the truth of these words resonate within you deeply. 
________________________

Wife: I’m just a girl.
Made in the image of God.
Husband: I’m just a boy.
Made in the image of God.
Wife: He has shown me what is good. And what does the Lord require of me? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with my God.
I didn’t know what it would mean for my life or how it would define me.
Husband: Let me go to Him, for I am just a child.
I didn’t know how much I would want Him or how much I would need Him.
Wife: I honored the Lord with my words, but my heart knew nothing of what it truly meant to be close to Him.
Husband: My parents trained me up in the way I should go, trusting that when I was old I would not turn from it….that in later days, I would return to the Lord my God and obey Him.
Wife: I was a white-washed tomb, a perfected Christian on the outside….but my insides were filled with decay and despair.
Husband: My heart became calloused, my ears deaf, my eyes closed….otherwise, I might have known. Otherwise, I might have been healed sooner.

Wife: I needed to see to believe. “Stop doubting and believe” He said… but I needed to see His hands, His feet…to touch His side…
Husband: “Come to me,” He said to me, “Come to me, you who are weary. I will give you rest.”  I didn’t want to listen…I can do this on my own.
Wife: He spoke tenderly to me, reminding me that no one could snatch me out of His hands. I was His and He was mine.
Husband: I sought after my lovers, but I could not catch them. The castle I begun to build for myself crumbled around me.
Wife: I wanted love. I deserved love, I thought. He pleaded: “Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires”
Husband: I was lost…and He found me. He spoke life into me, “My son…you are always with me and everything I have is yours”
Wife: Lord, if you are willing… you can make me whole.  Help me love my enemies, help me give to everyone who asks… show me how to take the plank out of my own eye before constantly trying to remove the speck from my brother’s…
Husband: I have been given a new heart and a new spirit. My heart of stone has been replaced by a heart of flesh.

Wife: And yet I worried, and still He said: “Do not arouse or awaken love until it so desires”
Husband: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
Wife: Lord, are you good? I keep waiting, I keep asking, I keep giving. Are you a dad who will give me a snake when I ask for a fish? And again You say: “Do not arouse or awake love until it so desires” I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him”
Husband: While I was still a sinner, He sent His son to die for me… I have found freedom in being led by the Spirit of God, reaping the gift of eternal life…longing to be obedient in all things for He has given when I have deserved nothing.
Wife: I’ve considered all things a loss compared to knowing Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. Everything else I consider garbage that I may gain more of Christ. I want to know Christ more. I need to know Him more…to act justly, to love mercy, to walk humbly…
Husband: I’ve learned to be content no matter my circumstances… in all things. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.
Both:  I am confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.
Wife: God is good.
Husband: All the time.
Both: You were shown these things so that you might know that the Lord is God; besides Him there is no other.

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Fat Days

The holidays draw closer and my waistband gets tighter.
Is it socially acceptable yet to wear elastic waistbands everywhere you go? Are maternity clothes viable options for women who just want room to expand two to three times a day?
I guess you could say I got married and “let myself go”. Or, at least some days I feel like it. Tighter clothes, more pounds, feeling self-conscious…fat days are upon me.
I’ve been here before.
I don’t want to return.
BUT… the holidays are here. How can I deny myself turkey, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie and the endless amounts of cookies from just jumping in my mouth?!
I told myself that I would do something about the weight gain after the holidays, but I realized I should probably start before then if I don’t want to be wearing sweatpants for the rest of my life (because, if we’re being honest, I’m too cheap to buy new clothes—especially in honor of gaining weight).
It doesn’t mean that I don’t get to enjoy the holidays…but it does mean that there’s a need for discipline that I like to forget about. Last time I lost weight, I decided to just doit and I stuck with it. Sheer determination. And grace during the times that I mess up. Two steps forward, one step back. But, it’s possible.
There are a lot of days in between Thanksgiving and Christmas and I don’t have to eat like a pig every day in between (nor should I). I don’t have to wait until the New Year to make a resolution, either. I can start today; a random day in November, four days before Thanksgiving.
That sounds nice.
I don’t have to keep gaining weight until January and then start losing weight. I can be disciplined. I can have self-control. I can still eat yummy things, but learn how to eat them in moderation. I can enjoy the holidays and not hate myself the entire time. I believe it’s possible. Even with a fat day here or there in between. 
Because as I eat and grow and let myself go, I begin to see a direct correlation between how I feel about myself and then how I interact with the world around me… as though it’s everyone else’s fault that I’m slowing inflating over time. As though I had no control as I pour large amounts of butter over my popcorn and shove rolls in my mouth.
If I really don’t like how I look or feel and if there’s something to do be done about it? I want to do something. I don’t want to whine and complain and feel sorry for myself, all while feeling bad about myself. Instead, I need to move my body and eat better. I just have to do it. One day at a time. Even on the fat days. 
When I start to trim away the excess things in my life, I start to feel like more of who I am supposed to be. More of who I was created to be. Never skinny, mind you… but healthy, confident, vibrant.
I’ve been there before.
It feels within reach.
I want to return.
And so today, we begin again.

Wish me luck.
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Parasitic Marriages

Do you know what an anglerfish is?
They are these fascinating creatures that live deep, deep in the dark sea and I only know about them because of Finding Nemo. Many years ago, I decided to see if that light-guided gross-looking fish was real… and it is.
What’s most interesting about this fish is not that they have translucent teeth or that they can swallow prey up to twice their size… but the relationship between the males and females. The male is smaller than the female and when one encounters a female, it will use its teeth and latch onto her. Eventually he is fused to her—he is connected to her “skin and bloodstream and losing his eyes and all his internal organs except the testes”. A lady anglerfish can have up to six or more of these males latched onto her.  (animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/fish/anglerfish)
WHAT?
That’s crazy and gross and weird and PARASITIC.
When I read it to my husband, he was appalled at the male’s lack of ability to do anything for himself. He may have even commented about how opposite to marriage it was, which of course left himself wide open for a jab about how men are absolutely the inferior species and I should probably write a blog on it. Our banter continued… and now, here I am… writing a blog.
Because…
As I think about it (and since over-thinking is what I do best), I’m not sure we ladies are as different from Mrs. Anglerfish as we think we are. Maybe he’s not latching onto us with his teeth and literally becoming fused to us… but, he kind of is (whether he knows it or not). We get married and we become “one”.
It isn’t long before we start raising our eyebrows when he starts acting up in public, making comments under our breath when his stories go on too long, correcting him when his information is slightly inaccurate. Over time, we might find ourselves with a blind husband who is lacking passion and only seems to care about sex (sound familiar)? 
WHAT?
That’s crazy and gross and weird and PARASITIC.
And yet, sometimes, I think we do it.
Sometimes, I see myself starting to do it. When my husband yells randomly and spontaneously and I fear for my life for a brief moment, I scold him. When he tries to be close to me when I’m feeling particularly introverted, I push him away. When he says something to someone that I think sounds weird or wrong, I widen my eyes at him with a warning look. And I can’t help but wonder if those “little” things might increase over time and eventually I’ll be serving to suffocate his soul and spirit.
I’m this controlling woman who thinks things ought to be done a certain way (my way)…and when he doesn’t do everything that way…………
Fortunately, I married an opinionated man who is free-spirited and unwilling to mold himself to my petty expectations and demands. A man who is quick to call me out on my controlling nature and urges me to see the beauty in allowing him to be exactly who the Lord created him to be—boyish-ness and all.
I laugh more.
Enjoy life more.
Let loose more.
And when I don’t, he quickly snaps me out of it or we dialogue about it until we can reach a common ground.
In the end, I’m reminded that those things that I can’t control are a lot of the reasons why I love him. I don’t want to break him, change him, or drain him. I don’t want him fused to me, I don’t want to lose him as he dies a slow death of foregoing his identity as we become one.
I want him to remain him.
And me to remain me.
And be one, as two individuals saved by grace, united in Christ–growing toward Christ.
Joined.
Supporting.
Loving.
Respecting.
But never controlling.

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On Marriage

“How’s marriage?!”
It’s a question I get a lot now. Sometimes it feels like the question that a waitress asks you right after taking your first bite of food in a restaurant, “So how does everything taste?”
Gosh lady… I barely have my taste buds on this enchilada. But it’s great. I’m going to tell you it’s great because it’s too awkward and too late to offer anything other than that. I chose enchiladas and, goodness, they’re going to be good (even if they aren’t my favorite).
Marriage, while I doactually think it’s great… still feels a bit premature to give any sort of  “accurate” analysis on. Or else it just feels discounted. I can only think it’s so good because we’re newlyweds and we’re in the honeymoon phase. But, really… I get it…  my taste buds are barely into this marriage.
Before I got married, my roommate and I had a running verbal “Pro/Con” list about marriage. As I transferred from single into a dating relationship and then into an engagement, I felt pretty insistent that the “Pro” list should be longer (even if I never admitted it aloud). Because, who wants to walk into a life-long commitment thinking that the cons are going to outweigh the pros?
I’m happy to announce that the pro list is still longer and I’m not making them up or searching for little things to stack up against a long list of cons. In fact, my con list is pretty short. I imagine it’ll grow with time… but I’m also imagining the pro list will grow, too (I hope?).
But, so far, marriage is great. Better than I thought it would be, actually.
We still disagree on how to spend money or if we should spend money.  He still wants to cuddle as we fall asleep while I want room to thrash around and change my position at least 10 times in a minute.  We are still learning the art of communication and how our tones can come across to the other as negative and insulting. We’re learning how to have friendships together and also separately. We’re learning not to assume things.  We’re growing.
© Catherine Rhodes Photography 2014
I realize I’ve still only had a taste.
And maybe it’s just because we’re newlyweds and we’re in the honeymoon stage… but I’m content with what I ordered. I wouldn’t have chosen anything else off the menu, even if I had a wait a while for it to arrive. I hope I’m savoring every bite.
Thanks for supporting us, encouraging us, and loving us as we jumped on this lifelong journey of learning to love each other better each day. Thanks for asking. Thanks for caring.
It’s good.
Truly, truly good.
It’s almost like life can sometimes even be like a fairytale.

We’re thankful for these moments, even it it’s just because we’re newlyweds or because we’re in the honeymoon phase… we’re thankful for easier times and pray that these moments would serve to root us in the Lord and in each other as we inevitably face harder times.

And that’s “how being married” is…

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The Fight

I know I’m really great at making it seem like I have the perfect marriage and that I’m married to the perfect man. I don’t mean to… because it’s not and he’s not… and I’m certainly not.
So… I guess it’s time to share a little bit of our ugly.
I guess it’s time to tell you about The Fight.
The Fight we had four days before we were to be wed. The Fight that made me wonder, “Uh oh…”.
It involved a suit.
A tie.
An undershirt.
Shiny, shiny shoes.
Don’t forget the belt.
And some money.
Lots and lots of money.
Oh. And my credit card.
Now, under different circumstances (like ones where we are sharing a bank account and had thoroughly discussed things ahead of time), I might not have balked my head when dear Mike rung up my husband’s total at the check-out counter. But, circumstances weren’t different…and so I balked.
It wasn’t so much vocal as it was through clenched teeth and glaring eyes as I tried to “not speak speak” to my to-be-husband that he should double check why in the world it was costing this much money. Did you know that men can’t read minds? Even when we’re seething?
So instead, he whips out the card and swipes away.
Five minutes later we were in a nearby department store searching for undershirts that don’tcost $50000000 because of the way the keep the sweat off your body.
We tried to communicate.
“Debbie, you need to use your words. You didn’t say anything back there so I figured you were okay with it…”
“Why would I EVER be okay with you spending that much money on all of that? I can barely buy myself a new toothbrush because I don’t want to spend money.”
We never yelled.
We were in public.
With my mom and my aunt.
Of course.
My anger wasn’t ceasing and so his only solution was to run off to return everything. He had to make it better, and I was giving him n.o.t.h.i.n.g. to work with.
“WAIT!”
I called behind him.
His impulsive desire to do something drastic because of my irrational reactions caused me to pause.
He really wants this.
It’s our wedding day.
My dress cost more than this.
We can afford this.
We are getting married.
Our lives are becoming one.
My money isn’t mineanymore.
Breathe
With tears in our eyes, in the middle of the department store, with my mom and aunt wandering around awkwardly waiting for us to “work through” our spat… we came to some sort of understanding.
His ability to spend extravagantly for our wedding didn’t mean that this was the way he was going to spend money our entire lives.  This was a once in a lifetime celebration.
Oh.
Plus, there was the fact that I was the one who handed him the tie… so why wouldn’t he assume that I had (a) seen the price and (b) approved it? (Unfortunately I had seen a bunch of ties on sale for $15 and when the sales rep handing me this beautiful tie I had just assumed it was from that rack…. Yes, I’m quite sure I was conned).
© Catherine Rhodes Photography 2014
So we worked it out.

He kept the suit. 
But it was ugly. Not the suit. The situation. 
I was a ball of tears, humiliated that just days before our wedding we were in such a predicament in front of my family.
Surprisingly enough, they told us they were actually impressed with how we handled the situation when we tried profusely apologizing to them for our ridiculous behavior.
We almost laugh about it now. 
You know… 40 days later.
But really, it feels insignificant. And, true to his word, while he spends money more quickly than I might, he isn’t an excessive spender. And, he does love those new shoes- so much so that he wore those shiny guys to work at least once or twice this past week. He insists that he’s not trying to prove a point and that he truly just loves them… but I’m not entirely sure.
That’s The Fight.
I’m not naïve enough to think that we’ll never have another… but I am relieved to know that I have married a man who can remain level-headed, who will talk through things, who will seek to place me and my desires above his own in the midst of conflict.
Even if he does like expensive things.
And even if I’m cheap.

It somehow all works out in the end as we learn to extend grace to each other and as we seek to love each other the way Christ loves us, imperfections and all. 
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Pregnancy & Children

It’s been almost 40 days and I’m not pregnant. I don’t think. 
Sometimes I pat myself on the back for the accomplishment, but then I wonder if it’s really an accomplishment at all.
Realistically, it could probably happen at any moment. Not because we aren’t being proactive and preventative and all that jazz… but because we aren’t being as preventative as we could be. I’ll let you figure out what that means.
As we talk about our future, our “plan” is to wait at least two years. This is for all of you who are already wondering when we’ll start “trying”. I mean, I’m old and my child-rearing years are upon me and now that I’m married we oughta start pushing them out… right?
Realistically though?
I wouldn’t be all that sad if it happened sooner. In fact, there’s a small part of me that hopes pregnancy is right around the corner.  Not because I’m itching to have children. Not because my maternal clock is ticking. Not because I’m excited about any part of actually delivering a baby . And no, I’m not planning an unplanned pregnancy behind my husband’s back.
I get excited about a baby because I’ve been pretty awestruck and humbled by how miraculous they are. I get excited about the Lord’s timing in all of it and Him deciding when and/or if. I get excited about me being pregnant because I know it isn’t something that’s promised to me. It’s this gift. And I want to cherish it… even if it’s unexpected and unplanned to us.
And so no, we aren’t “trying” and no, we are “not not trying”… but, that doesn’t mean it won’t or can’t happen (I’m quite all right having to post next week with a pregnancy announcement, if it happens). But it doesn’t mean that it will happen the moment we start trying, either. We’re okay with that.
I fully believe that children are in our future, whether they are biological or not. I do believe (and sincerely hope) that part of our story will reflect God’s heart for us as we long to love His children as our own. It’s perhaps an even more beautiful picture of the Gospel to me than any other imagery: adoption.
We’ve been married 40 days and we’re praying about adoption. Praying that our hearts would be opened to the Lord’s leading as we consider the possibilities of everything this might entail. Praying about when. Praying about where. Praying about how. Praying.
Praying about children.
Beautifully annoying children.
Children who Jesus asked us to care for.
Children that Jesus insisted upon letting come to Him.
Children who need people to be their mothers and fathers, their brothers and sisters, their aunts and their uncles.
Children who are much like us; in need of love, in need of a Savior.
For me, I can’t read the Gospel and not be open to adoption.
I may never have biological children… but I’m walking in faith that someday I will have my own children. 
I can’t wait until He reveals who they are to us and the day when finally get to meet them. Because children are a miracle. Biological or not.
It’s been 40 days and I’m not pregnant. I don’t think.
And I’m thankful that the Lord’s plans always continue to be better than our own. Whatever that may mean.
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Hair Envy

“You have great hair! Is it naturally curly?”

My heart leapt with joy at the flight attendants compliment and I discreetly pumped my fist in the air after answering her.

“Did you hear that?!” I hissed to my husband as we boarded the plane. “Someone finally complimented me on my hair instead of you getting a compliment on your hair.” It was a small victory to write down in the books.

I couldn’t remember the last time it had happened, honestly. He gets compliments all.the.time. And these are the problems you run into when you marry a man with long, luscious, blonde locks *sigh*. I certainly didn’t anticipate him stealing all of my hair compliments when we entered into our relationship. And I certainly didn’t anticipate all the other weird parts that come with long-haired men.  Sometimes I even threaten a little Delilah action in the middle of the night…

He loses hair ties. He breaks hair ties. We share hair ties. We’ve bought more hair ties since being together than I’ve bought in five years (or something like that).

Things I didn’t anticipate.

Sometimes, when we’re running out the door, he rushes back into the bathroom to fix his hair. It wasn’t pulled up right, so he needs a mirror to re-do it. I get it. I do it, too. But, that was my reason to be late…it wasn’t supposed to be my husband’s.

There’s hair in the drain. Hair on the floor. Hair in the food (just kidding, that’s usually mine). It’s a good thing I am brunette and he is blonde because I always know who is to blame.

He often flops his Fabio hair in my face when he turns, or bends down and stands back up, or leans forward than sits back up. He swears it’s not on purpose, but I’m convinced he wants me to be aware of how great his hair is and acknowledge it. I mostly get concerned when he adopts these same mannerisms around strangers and whips his hair back and forth. “What are you doing?!?“

He loves braids.
He likes it when people play with his hair.
He thinks I’m jealous.

Things I didn’t anticipate.

But, it’s okay.
Even with his compliment stealing, loose strands everywhere, drain clogging, and breaking of hair ties… I still love him. And his hair is beautiful.

Mostly it’s just funny. Something to laugh about and (occasionally) be annoyed by. Because it’s all worth it. And now we’re one. Unified. One braid, under God.

Things I didn’t anticipate, with a man I didn’t anticipate…
But it’s always better than what I hoped for and imagined.
And it’s always full of surprises.

I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

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