Making Sense of Purpose

We often have goals for where we want to be in the next five years (lately, I've heard a lot about the "5-yr plan" wondering, "where's mine?"), but we can never really know where we will be in the next five years. I know that you know this, so stick with me here.

Lately, I have struggled to understand exactly what I am supposed to be doing with my life. I don't mean in five years, I mean right now. Anyone with me on this? I feel like an alien in the world I'm currently living, just waiting to feel acclimated to this life. I have so many questions like, am I where I am supposed to be in life right now? What's next? Where will I be in the next five years (or two, even)?

I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, but here on campus it seems everyone is just on their one-track paths booking it toward the finish line, and here I am wandering aimlessly without a distinctive path. It's just dried-up desert land. If I scream, will I be heard?

I take comfort, I have to take comfort, in knowing that even my thoughts are heard, and that when I cry out, it doesn't fall on deaf ears, or even merely soil. I am heard, and even though I don't know where I'm going right now, there is a  plan set just for me, and I can't make the wrong decision.

I have this theory that even when we make the "wrong" decision, it's the right one. Sometimes taking the wrong path at first helps us see what we are really supposed to be doing in the long-run. When we experience failure, we learn what doesn't work, and in turn, what does. When we live in uncertainty, we learn to depend on God, and more deeply understand that we as humans know nothing and have no control over the long-term plans.

All we can do is continue to put one foot in front of the other, even if we are teetering like toddlers. If we fall, we'll get back up. If we go the wrong way, we'll find arms reaching out, waving us in another direction.

Here's a parallel for life from that example: Toddlers have very little, often no sense of danger. Parents are often seen running behind them, bent over with their arms out to guard them. When the little one comes to the top of a stairway, they have no clue that one misstep could send them toppling down the stairs, so they don't understand when their parents turn them in another direction. Like learning toddlers, we have no idea what danger the next step could bring. When we are turned in a different direction it's frustrating. But we have to recognize that we don't know what dangers the next step could have brought, and have faith that we're better off going whichever way we have been pointed, until the next re-direction.

This is how we can know our purpose. To continue taking everything in stride, working faithfully toward what we believe we are supposed to work for. If we are wrong, it will be made known in time, because our Father will always turn us back in the direction He wants us.

Keep working at what you're doing, and do it faithfully. It may seem insignificant now, it may be testing your patience, but stick with it and you will see the purpose of it all. It may take years, but if you're doing it, you have purpose.

Keep going. I will, too.

2000 Page Views!

Well hello there. After weeks of learning how to juggle life (and dropping things many times), I have some (at least to me) exciting news. My blog has had 2000 page views... as of today! It's also been somewhere around a year now since I started this blog. How lucky was I to log on and see this perfect number.

In celebration, I will go out to dinner this weekend.

Actually, I was already going to do that. This weekend is in fact Mr. Wonderful's birthday. Really, I'm so excited I could poo. (Name that quote in the comments below! Feel awesome for a day.)

I am finally getting into a rhythm being back in school, and thank the good Lord above, because I really felt like I was sinking. Drowning, actually, in paperback textbooks and guided reading assignments. Oh, and the poetry, Lord help me with the poetry!

I used to love writing poems. Really, I did. Until I found out that I suck at it. Does it matter how the "conventions" are if people legitimately like it already? Seriously... my self confidence has really taken a hit in my poetry class. And to be honest, I don't even like some of the "professional writer" poems that we read in class. They're dry. They're boring. They don't mean anything more to me than the stuff I write matters to my professor.

There are some really good poets, with poems so cleverly designed I can probably only dream of ever writing like them. When I try, oh boy... let's just say when a wanna-be poet sees a "C" on her first poem for poetry class, the emotion that gushes forth isn't pretty. I mean, come on, think poet here. Emotion... yeah. You'd think a good poem would come of that, but no, just goober and snot, and angry words on a page. Nobody wants to read your anger. Frustration, maybe, injustice, for sure. Angry words written to a college professor, nope!

Not to make you think poetry class is my life or anything. Poetry doesn't even take up a corner of my life, it's like 10%. Probably less, even. It's just the one that has broken me the most, maybe. The other classes are much more time-consuming and technical, and I won't burden you with the load of information I cram into my poor brain's throat every day. (Brains don't eat, I know this, but I'm a writing major, not biology, and just take in that visual, okay? Now you're getting it.)


I'm hoping sometime soon, I'll be able to clean my apartment and invite some friends over. Seriously, I haven't cleaned at all since we moved in (not that we've been home to make a mess), and I also haven't spent time with any of my dear ladies in over a month!

Oh, except for my dear German who was visiting last month! I'm so glad I could have her stay with me the last week. It was so much fun comparing how the school systems here and in Germany are so different. I so wish I would have had less work to do while she was staying with me.

Something must change about that. Soon. Very soon, things will be different. My apartment will be clean and the laughter of beautiful women and the smell of cheesy garlic bread and spaghetti will fill it.

So, as I have a battle of wills with God and my husband, who both tell me to do things contrary to what I would like to be doing (i.e. not suffering through schoolwork), I wish you all the best in your many endeavors. May you feel perfectly and pleasantly whelmed, nothing more, nothing less.

Here's to the next year of blogging.

So Much Life, So Little Time

After so many weeks of quiet from my end of the internet, I finally have a moment to write (and not for a class). Yes, I chose to do it here.

The beginning of school came too early for me this year, honestly. I was working every night at the MN State Fair, and the day after class started Mr. Wonderful and I had to move. We both started the semester really strong... behind in every class. We are actually caught up by now, but other areas of life have suffered. For instance, most of our belongings are still in boxes (especially kitchen things), and I haven't cooked a single meal in over two weeks (you're killing me, smalls!). The area of life that has suffered the most, though, is my time with my dear husband.

I know, wa, wa, wa, cry me a river, right? Well, not for me. I need that time; I crave it! My love language is quality time, and without it, there is little thought or feeling of love received from my end. I feel so alone. If life had a pause button, I would certainly be pushing it the next time my spouse and I are home together.

So, as I look at what comes up on the horizon, all I see are piles of homework and work shifts that begin after (or during) dinner and drag on until midnight. Maybe someday we'll have the chance to sit at home together and enjoy our new place, unpack boxes, and feel relaxed and at home. Not this week, though.

Okay, so there's my outlet for complaining. I'm having a hard time seeing the upside to life right now. Pray for me?

On the other hand, Mr. Wonderful and I are both gainfully employed, and I am back in school (even if it might be the death of me). Also, our new apartment is more affordable, and somehow we have more space! It's quite wonderful. I'm excited to make it home.

Also, it's 9/11 today, so I don't plan to only focus on myself. I never write too much about this day, because honestly, it's overdone. I don't feel that I was close enough to the incident to really make any calls on it. I have no gushing poem, no emotional essay, no exhaustive account of "where I was that day." Just this:

I am so grateful to those who were willing to risk their lives to save others. I am thankful to live in a nation that can be shaken to its core and still rise from the ashes fighting. I am proud to live in a country blessed by people who continue to try, even when it seems everything has been taken away from them; and for people who help heal and protect those who have lost everything. Thank you to our soldiers, the firefighters, cops, and police enforcement officers who train hard and risk their lives on a daily basis, and who are willing to risk their lives in a tragedy like the one that took place eleven years ago. You are uncommon people to come by. May God bless you and your families, and also those who were close to the tragedy that day.

Note to self: School will make me a better, more prepared writer for life's future endeavors. Be thankful for life's opportunities, others are frequently robbed of them.

Note to readers: Thanks for reading. Those tiny little spikes on my reader stats poll keep me going some days. It's nice to see that somehow, this might all be worth it someday.

Grown-up Raspberry Lemonade

If you know me well, you know I love making up on-the-spot recipes with whatever I have laying around. I love it with the intensity of one thousand burning suns.

Okay, maybe not that much. But who doesn't enjoy the feeling of creating? Making new things, broadening horizons, expanding the palette?

Well, this one doesn't exactly "expand the palette", but it did have me beaming. It also turned my husband into a drink-stealing ninja.

Grown-up Raspberry Lemonade

Hubs really wanted pop yesterday (Minnesotans say, "pop"), so we went and got some 25 cent drink at Rainbow. Oh, cheap but close-to-the-real-thing sodas, how I equally love and loath your existence! 

Being not much of a pop drinker, I was grateful for his buying me one, but also had to figure out what to do with it to make it, well, something I actually wanted to consume. This, this lovely, delicious, sweet, mouth-watering treat of a drink, was the result.

Surely this will be in heaven. Minus the cheapie soda.

Friends, I tell you. If you're an enjoyer of the occasional alcoholic beverage, you must try this drink. Especially if you like lemonades! You owe yourself this favor. And this lemonade... it's all grown up.

And the recipe is:

Grown-up Raspberry Lemonade

1 can of carbonated lemon-lime drink (sprite, 7-up, Sierra Mist, what have you)

1/2 packet Crystal Light raspberry lemonade

1/2 tbsp rum

Combine and stir.

Add a slice of lemon and you've got yourself your own little party for one!

I'll be honest, here. I didn't use the whole can of pop. The whole contents wouldn't fit in the glass, and I just couldn't leave one sip in there all by its lonesome. It probably wouldn't make a difference to add the rest, though.

Happy weekend! Please drink responsibly.

Real Conversations I've had with My Husband 8/11/12

 Ok, friends, I know you love these, so here you go. It's hard to keep track of our ridiculous conversations word-for-word, but when I get the chance I put them down as quickly as I can so I don't forget them. So here are more "Real Conversations I've had with My Husband". I hope you have a good laugh -- we sure did.

Mr. "Wonderful' wasn't listening while I was talking one night, so when he tried to reiterate what I had said he got it totally wrong, and realized he was caught. He made a face, so I laughed and asked him, "Why are you so weird?" as I crawled into his chair to cuddle with him while picking on him.

"Because I'm weird," was his reply.

"You're weird because you're weird?" I asked.

"Yup!" he yelled and hugged me closer, nuzzling the side of my face.

I made some happy gurgle-type noises, and he said, "Oh good, happy gibberish!" and snuggled me again.

I know I just don't say this enough, but this is what I live with, people! We really do have fun.

I'm not the only one fluent in gibberish, though. Another day, after watching a favorite television show, I turned to him, snuggled up close, and gave him a loving smile. It was a pretty sappy moment, and he started dramatically exclaiming, "Oh, Bre. Oh, Bre. Oh, Bre, oh Bre!" and then he made a noise that was sort of like, "RoaaAaaaugh!"

I looked at him, laughing, and asked, "What?!" to which his reply was, "Gremlin."

Then he said, "For my next impression: pterodactyl." And putting his hand in his mouth, made a noise close to "Roararargh!" Which made us both laugh.

"And for my next," he said, trying not to laugh, "Jaguar velociraptor! Aaaaar *gag*" And we laughed even harder.

And lastly, he ended with one more noise, which sounded very much like all the others, "aaaaaauraugh!" When I asked him what that one was, he added very simply, "Baby." We laughed our hardest after this one in particular.

When this was all done, I opened up the computer, and he knew without asking that all this ridiculousness was going on my blog, so he left the room in a huff. But in a kind of humorous huff. He's not mad, though maybe a tad embarrassed. As he should be.

He is so goofy and I love him for it. So much.

Our Story: A Ring and a Dream

Two days ago my husband and I completely neglected to acknowledge the anniversary of a pretty important day in our life history - our engagement. We're married now, so who really cares anyway, but still. I have to admit I felt like a bum of a wife, but what about that husband of mine? It's not like he remembered to bring it up, either. In fact, he worked until midnight that day. Yeah, that's right. Hardly even saw him. Just proving once again that we're not the types to use any excuse to celebrate. But we do celebrate when we feel the occasion. Mostly, we like it when it's just us, together.

It's okay, though. I got to hang out with a pretty cool former roommate of mine after she got off work at the STATE CAPITOL! That's right, we're growing up. I have a friend who works for the Republican party of the state of Minnesota. Okay, she doesn't get paid, but she's a recent grad and politicians don't technically have to pay their help. It's called an internship. But she does get to go to ritzy parties and schmooze with the higher-ups. Pretty cool.

Point is, I wasn't lonely, it was still a good time. However, I did miss the opportunity to update this on time to keep current events, well, *current*. To push it even further back, the next day, Mr. Wonderful and I said, "to heck with the world and responsibility!" and spent a day hanging out together, just being friends. So we did technically celebrate the day he gave me a pretty ring that he actually shouldn't have been able to afford.

Enough presentation. Here's the story you've all been waiting for:

Next week Garth and I are going to family camp with his family. We seriously gave up our date for the month, and our trip north to go to Sonshine Festival just so we could go. I know, most people don't give up their romantic dates for time with their in-laws; but this place is really important to him, and in turn, has become quite important to me.

The first year Garth's family went to Camp Okoboji, Garth was an infant. So, his second year there he was only one year old, and so on and so forth. He and his family have been going there every summer for his entire life. It's not a part of the summer he's willing to give up. I have been going with them since year two of our relationship, because we met in high school, and the first summer we were dating my dad said there was "absolutely no way" I would be going camping with my boyfriend. So, this will be my fourth year going to camp.

The second year I went to camp with Garth and his family, Garth had a surprise for me.

This is hard to admit, but the first year we were dating, Garth took a very strong position on his desire to marry me. I didn't want to talk about it for fear of being foolish and naive, so it hardly ever came up; but eventually we did start to discuss the possibility. As we got to know each other more, we talked about what we wanted to do when we grew up; what kind of house we each wanted to live in, number of future kids we expected to have, when we wanted to get married, and how we'd take it all in stride in God's timing. Except for my condition that I needed at least six months to plan a wedding, which I guess would have been negotiable, because things always are with God, but I was pretty stubborn about it. When he discovered that I wanted a winter wedding, he thought it was a cool idea, and I suppose he kind of just kept that in mind.

A few days before camp I had made plans to hang out with Garth after I got done babysitting. He told me he had to work during the time I would be babysitting, and that he would call me when he got done. I was oh so unsuspecting.

Here's what I didn't know: Garth did not have to work. In fact, that morning, he called his dad and found that he was not seeing patients, picked up his father, and took him out of town. They went to a local jewelery store in Rochester, MN, and bought a ring.

I should mention something here. Wait, swallow whatever you're drinking. This one's a doozy... Garth was still eighteen. He had just about two months earlier graduated from high school. Don't ask me what we were thinking. That we could love each other forever, I suppose. So far, we haven't been wrong.

Back to the story. You want me to finish this one, trust me.

So we hung out that night. He had the ring in his pocket, "just in case." I never even knew. So there we were, sitting on the couch of friends whose house I was staying in while they were on vacation - him buzzing with an excitement, a secret, that I wasn't even aware of.

"I'm excited for camp." He announced, then added, decisively, "We're going to go on lots of walks."

"Oh are we?" I looked at him, wondering where he was coming from. It was going to be my second year there, I knew the grounds.

"Yup. I want to take you on the trails."

I didn't remember any trails, but not knowing him to be a liar, I figured I just missed out the year before. "Okay, so should I bring my camera? Oh! And a dress, so we can take cool pictures? I need some new, good pictures of me."

"Yeah, oh yes, bring a camera, and a dress." His face just shined.

A few days later, when we got to camp and got our schedules, he sat me down and wanted to decide when we would go on our walk. We decided to go the next morning, as it was supposed to rain later in the week. He acted a lot like it was a very big decision, but I thought maybe he was just happy to be at camp. I also still thought there must be some pretty cool trails that he was excited to finally show me.

The next morning I put on my dress, grabbed my camera, and we headed toward the door. I stopped, realizing I forgot something, "I forgot to put on my rings!" I said, feeling a little bare without the two rings my mom had given me as gifts. My sisters both had rings that matched. "You don't need them right now," was Garth's reply. Then he grabbed my hand and said, "let's go to the beach!"

Yeah, I should have seen it there, but I still wasn't getting it.

When we got to the beach, we went straight to the shore, at the base of the cross that stands there. I took a few pictures, because it was a bright, beautiful morning and the sun was just perfection on the beachy scene. I wanted to go out to the dock, but there were people there, so I started walking back in the direction of camp.

Garth gave my hand a squeeze, then bumped me onto a bench. We had our backs to the beach at this point, but he was being snugly, so I didn't mind. He put his arm around me and told me that he loved me. I put my head on his shoulder and said that I loved him, too.

"I brought you something." He said, looking a little smug, and a little nervous. I watched him reach into his pocket.

"You brought me something?" I mimicked.

He got down on one knee, and I saw a little white box in his hand. He looked up and nervously licked his lips as he opened the box. "Bre, will you marry me?"

And that was it. No speech, no confession of his undying love. Only an eighteen year old boy with a ring and a dream; and a big heart for following God. I knew that if he was asking me this question now, he had been praying hard about it for some time.

The little diamond ring was far more than I expected. Tears came to my eyes as I thought of this tender vision before me, a side of him that had been hinted to but never seen. "Yeah." I replied. Then, feeling a bit foolish, I said, "I mean, 'yes'. Yes!"

We both sat there for a moment. Me staring at the ring, him watching me. "Take it." he said, bringing the box a little closer to me.

I just stared at it, bewildered. I put out my hand, then stopped. "I can't!" I laughed a little. He took it out of the box and put it on my finger, then came to sit beside me again.

After I was almost over the shock, I took out my camera and snapped a few pictures of the two of us, and of the ring. (One of those pictures is the one you find at the top of my blog page.)

We enjoyed the time together, being the only ones who knew, before going back to make calls, change our Facebook relationship status to make it "Facebook official", and announce our engagement to his astonished family.

Thanks to Facebook, by the way, when we got home from camp at the end of the week there was scarcely a soul who had to be told of our engagement. Everyone knew. Everyone was so excited. But no one rejoiced more than Garth and I.

Why the Bride Wears White

One year and a half ago, at the age of twenty, I walked down the aisle in the most beautiful dress to ever adorn my body, ready to commit myself to one man for the rest of my life. I wore white.

It wasn't about the white dress, the flowers, the music, the food. It wasn't about family or friends. It was hardly even about the two of us, though our wedding was the occasion for celebration. To my husband and I, it was all about God, forgiveness, and what was done for us, not by us.

The dress was a special blessing, though, as it had itself just months before seen its fiftieth year; and for me it was free. The dress was Garth's grandmother's. After looking at her wedding album on her's and her husband's fiftieth wedding anniversary, she heard that I had swooned over the dress and suggested that it could be made to look modern with a few tweaks. A month later, when her grandson proposed to me, she stopped by unexpectedly and dropped it off. A beautiful lace dress the likes of which I had never even dreamed of, preserved perfectly after fifty years, was put on my body lovingly by my now sister-in-law. It fit perfectly.

After quite a few moderations in under six months' time, it was quite uniquely beautiful, certainly one-of-a-kind, and I felt terribly undeserving of it.

During our engagement, my husband and I were both attending the same college. In my British literature class we discussed Queen Victoria I for a few days. I learned at this time the real reason the bride wears white, or how it started as a trend, anyway, which had less to do with chastity than sheer virtue. Women back in Queen Victoria I's time would wear elaborately beautiful dresses filled with color to show their social/economic status. Queen Victoria, as a bride, wore white to show she was frugal, as England was in the midst of economic crisis. Talk about irony! Today, that famed white dress is the most expensive dress most women will ever wear. This knowledge really changed my perspective.

So why then is this dress perceived today as a vision of purity? Well, it is not completely off-base, though maybe twisted a bit by our society. Actually, it may just be a tradition that the bride be perceived as pure, emphasized in weddings today by the unblemished white of a wedding dress.

We've all heard the jokes when certain "undeserving" women wear white on their wedding day. We may laugh, but there is a different way we could look at it. A way that shows us far deeper and broader the implications of marriage, and a demonstration of God's love and forgiveness.

This revelation came over me one day when I was reading Ephesians 5. Starting at verse 25, Paul is admonishing men to love their wives "as Christ loved the church" so that, "he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish." Ephesians 5:26-27 (ESV, emphasis added).

Now, I had read this passage plenty of times before, but on that particular day, I teared up. It dawned on me that the purity of the bride is not dependent on the color of the wedding dress, but the concept of the convent act of marriage that is significant. At the moment of the covenant it does not matter what has happened in the woman's past, who she was before, or what sins she has committed. What matters is the act of committing herself to one man for the rest of her life, and his intent toward her. That sanctifies her. She becomes a radiant example of what we are to Christ, and in that moment, she is pure.

Men, I would admonish you to treat your wives (present, future, or unknown) in a way that makes her a respectable person, so that no one can say a bad word about her. This is how Christ demonstrates His love for the church, and our human act of marriage is a significant demonstration of that covenant; that love. A woman forgiven of her past wrongs by a man who chooses to love her unconditionally is a woman worthy of being presented in splendor; holy and without blemish.

Finding the Treasure Trove

So, I normally try not to say this but, "it's been awhile." I know, I know, don't worry I'm not going to whine about how awful I am at keeping up with this blog, and I'm not going to apologize. Nope, no apologies here. 

Really, I have been busy and lethargic at the same time. We have been facing big changes here along with a lot of uncertainty, and when I get around to writing it seems everything comes out at once, with no rhyme or reason. I think that means I've been suppressing my thoughts for too long, but thoughts eventually sort themselves out over time. I have also been focusing on my novels more, so when the mood to write strikes, I'm more likely to go to that. Which is going quite well, thanks for asking. This, paired with my obsession with Pinterest (curse you, evil, time-consuming site of wonders!) has kept me from doing many of my normal activities.

As I said, recently Mr. Wonderful and I have been facing some uncertainty, which made his at-home nick-name even more fitting (he is quite wonderful, no matter how much I cry over our worries). But we're finally coming out of that. He was having a devastatingly hard time finding a job, and I was wondering if it was going to be possible for me to go back to school this fall. Just over a week ago, we finally had a windfall; right as everything seemed to be going down the drain, it all came bubbling back up at once. Blessing after blessing.

First, Garth was called for a job interview at Chipotle. It wasn't his number one choice for work as far as hours and pay goes, but as far as a work-place (and restaurant to eat at), it far surpassed all others. He was stoked to have something to write on our calendar, and I can only imagine that his good attitude and excitement showed in his interview. They interview three times there, and after his second interview they gave him a t-shirt; they seemed ready to hire him. After over a week of scheduling and re-scheduling to meet with his final interviewer, he finally went in yesterday, and filled out the paperwork last night! For a married, working college student, this job is probably going to be a very good thing. God knows what He's doing, and His plan is the best. I can only assume it will be just the right amount of pay for now, and that we will still have plenty of time to spend together.

In the midst of the job conundrum, I was given some very exciting news of my own. The college called and let me know that they're deferring my payments on my unpaid balance from my first semester there! We don't have a lot left, but it's more than can be paid right now, so this is huge! Garth has two years of undergrad left, and then he'll be off to grad school, which means I have limited time to finish my degree before I'm whisked away to our new life! I am now officially re-enrolled in school and taking steps to go back this fall. I don't know if you're feeling this on your end, whoever you are, but I'm so incredibly excited!!!

What we learned in our rough time of uncertainty was that we had, without realizing, tried taking on everything ourselves. Preaching a bit here, I know, but before all these blessings we had been praying for fell into our laps so effortlessly, we started reading the Bible together every day. This was something we had done when we first got married, up until about January. We got a nightly devotional for Christmas, and started it on the new year. Yes, there are Bible verses at the beginning of each devo, but it's a marriage devotional, not a daily time with God. 

The effects of recommitting to a (for us nightly) time in God's word, learning, communing, feeding our souls, were immediate. We felt general comfort and peace to begin with, and Garth was asked to a job interview the next day. Just a day later, I received news that it was entirely possible for me to go back to school. A week later I received an email stating my official enrollment. So now, above every other thing we do each day we make time to be in God's word together.

Want to know how to achieve happiness and assurance of your future? Always remember this: reading the Bible daily, and praying constantly bring many blessings.

Nothing In Particular

As I await this month's date night to begin, I am anxious, bored, and in quite a good mood. I have spent a lot of time on Facebook and Pinterest today, and I have run out of lazy things to entertain me. Being as this is more work than updating my status and stalking people's interests, and less work than writing a novel, here I am.

And here is a short list of random things I have on my mind right now:

-My husband is listening to the blues, and I like it.
-I am wearing a mini-skirt with nowhere special to go. No, this is not something I wear in public. It's a leftover from high school and I pulled it out tonight for entertainment purposes only. Hey, if the mini-skirt fits...
-Date night starts in 12 minutes!
-We have $20 worth of retro candy and fine chocolates waiting to be delved into on the counter.
-My hair has gotten SUPER long! It's pretty much past time for a hair cut, and I still don't want to go get a trim.
-My female half of the E.L.'s just called me =) I can't wait to see them both tomorrow!
-I have to try not to spend any money while at the Mall of America tomorrow =S
-That little face looks more like it has a mustache than being frazzled.
-I need to redo my nails, which is unfortunate, because I really like the gray nails with yellow tips that I'm rocking right now.
-I have to get up early every weekday this summer to help teach summer school. That's okay, though, because I'll be getting paid!!
-Someday, I should take some pictures of things and upload them for my posts.
-Someday, when I have pictures on my posts, I should put a few of them on Pinterest. Because I have good ideas that should be shared. At least sometimes. Right?

Okay, I am now exhausting myself with peppiness. No worries, though, soon I will have enough sugar in my system to put me in a diabetic coma. Gee I sure hope I don't end up with cavities and diabetes after tonight!

Our Story: Saying the 'L' Word

Another class has grown and left the grade school system, and takes me back to my time in high school. This year is the first year that the graduates weren't even in high school when I graduated! I wonder how the first year of graduates who weren't even in school when I was will feel.

Graduating class of 2012, you don't even know. There is so much more to life than high school. Some of you may be frightened to leave your classmates and homes behind, some of you may be staying at home for another year or so and wondering what it will be like without seeing those classmates every day, and some of you are totally pumped to be done with all of this and finally "on your own".

I can tell you, though, that you don't even know. Heck, I still don't know where life is taking me, but I can tell you that I didn't expect to have anything that I have now when I graduated high school. Enjoy the ride, kids. Don't fear change, and don't hold on to your plans so tightly that you miss out on the bigger better ones waiting for you when you let go. Keep setting goals, re-evaluating plans, and working hard. It's not over. No, to be cliche, it's just beginning.

Something new is always beginning.

When I graduated, I had plans to go to an art school in Minneapolis for photography. Well, that plan was an expensive one, and the school was so new that they could not offer much financial aid. At the end of the summer, I had to change plans and ended up going to the community college, but it was probably one of the best things that could have happened to me at the time. I just didn't know at the time what plans could possibly be better than mine.

A week or so after graduating from high school, when plans for art school were still in place, I also had plans for my relationship with Garth. The plan was that we would continue to date and enjoy each others' company for the summer, then part ways when I left for school. I thought this was a particularly good plan because he would still be in high school the next year anyway.

His plans were different. Now I think of them as maybe more in-tune with God's.

As I was leaving one clear night in June, I hugged Garth good-bye, and realized that his hugs were something I liked too much to leave at the end of the summer. I decided that it would be best to end it all sooner than later, and through tears, I told him what I was feeling. I told him that we'd only end up hurt and that I didn't want to go through it at the end of the summer. I wanted to lead him to agree with me and end things himself, mutually, and when I was through I was met with complete silence.

He kept me in his grasp and would not let me go, as I stood by the door calming myself. The silence began to get to me so I said, "Say something. Please, anything."

Then he squeezed tighter and whispered, "I love you, too." He told me how he would come visit me at college and we would just see how things turned out.

I returned his tight squeeze and quietly asked him to repeat that first thing he said, and he responded, "I love you, too."

It was scary. It was exciting. And with my stomach in knots I told him I did love him.

Because I did. And I still do.

The End/To a New Beginning

Well, friends, the school year is winding down and I'll be moving on from the best job I've had so far. I never thought my stint as a photographer's assistant could be topped, but better hours with better pay, cute little kiddies that put a smile on my face every day, and encouraging staff that get along so well have made this job a treat.

Some things, I'm sure, will not be missed. Wandering the halls looking for the right classroom, for example. Then there's walking into a new classroom and not knowing which student is the one I'm supposed to be working with (usually worked out in a minute or two). I definitely won't miss chasing slightly unstable or off-balance, or even just simply attention-seeking students down the hall, or losing them all together... I certainly did get my exercise, though. Soon, gone will be the days of an early-morning call telling me where I will be working for the day (which I have had a break from for the last six weeks of school, thankfully).

Soon, gone will be the days of a steady lunch time, random hugs in the hallway, and excited faces wanting to show me things they have worked so hard on. No more going out to the playground every day after lunch, then again sometimes in the afternoon. Goodbye, plays and concerts put on mid-school day.

Yes, the good far outweigh the bad in this job. Teachers and administration work in schools for so long because they love what they do, not because they feel for any reason that they have to. I know that each of them, no matter how many things they can find to complain about on any given day, really love working with kids; molding the future.

So now, on to the next adventure.

To the [Single] Girls + a Real Conversation I've had With My Husband

Last weekend my hubby and I had a wonderful night out with some fellow college students. It was the spring banquet, which was themed '1930's Kentucky Derby' and held at a barn, on a beautiful plot of land with a lake and trails. It was cold and rainy, but still everyone got really dressed up, there were lots of big hats, and we had a great time.

 1930's fancy for a night

Playing lawn games

On our way home, we decided to stop at the grocery store across the street to grab a tasty beverage to sip on while we stayed up a little later. We got many curious glances and stares as we walked about in our banquet attire. One lady said to us, "you two look so nice!" As we walked away, my dear husband said, in a loud voice, "Bre, you're right. It is fun to get dressed up to go to the grocery store!"

I laughed and laughed and told him he's so funny. When we entered a new aisle he said quietly to me, "I said that loud hoping people would hear me." and smiled. What a funny guy I have.

I wish everyone who marries could have what we have. The kind of love and commitment, sometimes naive, yet often mature beyond our years. I notice the younger people I know chasing after things that just don't matter in relationships. Chasing after relationships that only leave them hurt or confused. I especially notice this in the younger girls, but women my age and older do this, too.

I want to tell those young women that they deserve better. I want them to believe, and really know that there is a better way. There is a way that cannot fail, and single or in a relationship, it will all be alright, because those women would know the hope they live for.

Looking through my thought journal the other day, I found the writing below. This is what I want to tell these girls and women who strive to give their hearts away, but always to the wrong people:

To the Girls

"You are a prize. Have you ever seen a prize passed around before given to the winner? To you, men should have to work hard, put effort into you, not only rise above the competition but rise above expectation. And you shouldn't be easy to win. You should be a mystery, exciting and intriguing; experienced by few, not many. Be careful and prayerful, for you are not your own -- you are God's child. Wait for someone who is not only worthy of you, but who has worth in your Father."

The key, ladies, is to know that there is a plan set up for you, and that it is perfect. It may not always feel perfect, but everything works together so intricately that we cannot always see the perfection in the chaos of the way our world works. Be patient. 

To you who are believers in Christ, know that this perfect plan is from Him. He thinks of you, and it breaks His heart to see you broken. Turn to Him, turn all over to Him, and watch as He writes your love story. Allow it to work into perfection beyond your wildest dreams.

We all have our plans. But when we hold onto our plans so tightly that we won't let them go, we often miss out on God's perfect and beautiful plan. Don't delay His plan, it's better than yours anyway. Be the cherished prize you're meant to be, without a blemish, and work harder at that than you do chasing after meaningless relationships. You are a prize. Be won, not given away.

Discernment

It's been hard to know what is worthwhile these days; which thoughts to express, what goals to pursue and which goals to set aside.
Words.

What words really make a difference? Which to express, or keep to ourselves?

I often-times decide it's not worth saying anything. Other times, I just can't handle it any longer, and they come out like a flood. I want to change the way people think, without altering the way they think about me (unless that changes for the better). Selfish.

Sometimes discernment is easy. God is important, always God. But are my words about God important to the unbeliever if it does not change that person's thinking? Is it ever okay to say nothing? Too often, maybe, I let it go.

Too often, maybe, I don't say something when I should have.

Then again, too often I may say too much, when I should have stopped myself.

Words of encouragement.

Is expressed encouragement always necessary? The obvious answer seems to be yes, but what about someone who is constantly discouraged no matter what? What about a child who just does not want to participate, no matter what the consequence? Say a little and back off? Perhaps the answer is to keep encouraging even if they don't believe it. I find myself backing off after awhile. Allowing certain people to figure out on their own what they're capable of. Because, that's important too, right?

Advice. More words. So many words.

To know what advice is truly valuable and what advice is unnecessary would be a helpful life tool. Too bad there is not an owner's manual to the human conscience. Always, I wonder if I should say something, and what that should be. When I say nothing, I later regret it. When I say something I hope would be helpful, I often wonder if it was useful information.

Thoughts. Words. Questions. Discouragement.

Learning discernment. Wisdom.

So many words. Maybe, maybe I should just stop with the words, the thoughts.

Be still.

Trust.

Cheers to You if You Find This Post

If you are reading this, congratulations. Nobody was meant to find this, but I guess you were, because you did. You've found an easter-egg post. Yay you!

I was walking down the hall at work the other day and noticed my reflection in a window as I passed a dimly-lit room. As I don't normally see myself walking, and it was from profile view, I noticed something I had never noticed before. In a fleeting moment, I saw what my butt looks like when I walk.

It was an interesting thing, I must say. Now, I don't pay much attention to anyone's butt, but I couldn't help but think about them for awhile after seeing mine. A few different thoughts went through my head, primarily the following:

Butts are interesting things.
Almost beings in themselves.
The way the wiggle and jiggle
And giggle as they follow along.
They go to-and-fro
When we walk slow
And bounce up-and-down
At a brisk pace;
Not quite with the rest of the body
Kind of just in their own way
As if having a mind of their own
Shown in their refusal
To conform to our movements.

Yes, there you have it, something of a poem about butts. That's right, you've never really seen it all.

Our Story: Overcoming Guilt with Grace

Four years ago, when my relationship was new, I drove my man around because I had a car and he did not yet have his license. It's no secret that I am older than him, and that used to be hard for me, but he got his license a few months later, then graduated high school and grew up and the age difference has made less of a difference each passing year.

Anyway, when the relationship was new and we didn't know everything about each other, I struggled to let him see the real me. I didn't want to scare him away, but I didn't think it was fair to try to hide things about myself that were so much a part of me. One thing I certainly could not try to hide any longer was my standing with God.

"God hates me and I'm going to hell, anyway." I would say, too often.

See, I grew up in a Missouri Synod Lutheran church. Nothing against the Lutherans, they're Christians, too, but my church growing up preached forgiveness, but with a heavy emphasis on works. It always seemed to me that we were only forgiven if we just didn't sin. So, to my seventeen year-old mind, since I was a sinner, I must not be saved.

Driving Garth home from school one day, I said again, "well, I'm going to hell anyway." Garth just looked at me and asked, "Do you love God? Do you believe in Jesus? And that He died on the cross to forgive your sins?"

To which my reply was, "Yes."

"Well then, you're forgiven. If you love God, that means God loves you, which means Jesus died for you, which means you are forgiven, and you will go to heaven!"

It hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, everything made so much sense! I felt so much relief, so much comfort in those words. His words changed my life.

It wasn't until about a month after that discussion that I really learned true forgiveness, however. As we said our goodbyes in the car one night, we leaned in for a kiss, and I stopped. I suddenly felt overwhelmed with the pieces of me he didn't know yet; not physically, but the deep down, dark past side of me. I knew right then and there that I had to tell him. I started, "There's something I need to tell you..." but the words just wouldn't come. Instead, there were tears. Swelling up in my eyes, trying to breach the dam, but I held them back, which only made it harder to talk.

"Would it help if I went first?" he asked.

I nodded, then he proceeded to tell me the biggest shames he had in his past. The past he was trying to get away from. The old him he didn't want to be anymore.

What a relief those words were to me -- and at a moment when I didn't even suspect that he knew where this conversation was going. I understood this person who was speaking to me, and felt closer to him than ever at that moment.

I finally opened up and told him the sins I had committed, the biggest shames of my past. The old me I was trying to run away from.

"Bre," he said, calmly, taking my hand, "I forgive you."

"I forgive you, too" I replied.

We held each other, prayed together, and said goodnight.

On my drive home, I thought about the things that were said. How righteous we could think we were, or other people were, when really everyone has something they may be trying to hide. The biggest realization, the best comfort to me that night, was that if Garth could forgive me so quickly and freely because of his little, new, unprofessed love for me, then how much more quickly and freely did my heavenly Father with a great big, lifelong love for me forgive?

So much more! He forgave and loved so much more! And still does today. May you know that in your life, too.

The Fruits of Meaningful Motivation

For weeks I have come to my computer drained and mentally exhausted. The last thing on my mind has been writing in any form other than comments on facebook statuses. I don't even know when I last updated my own status.

Today, however, my mind is buzzing with thoughts and ideas. Things to write, things to do. I sat down and took apart a seam on a dress that is a tad too big for me with plans to take out the original elastic and replace it with a smaller size.

Early last week I set up my formerly exiled sewing machine and resolved to figure out how to use it over the weekend. So today I sat down the with the owner's manual and fiddled around for a few hours and tried a few test stitches, and will hopefully be ready to stitch my dress back up in the next two days. I plan to be able to make a skirt on my own by the end of the summer. Then on to a bean-bag chair. And I'm not kidding. If the bean-bag chair works out, I promise promise promise to post pictures for once in the history of this blog.

I think my energy today is partially from the sunshine and warm weather that has been so impatiently awaited all week. I was cranky about the weather on the way to church because of the cold, cloudy morning, but as we were in the service, the sky transformed from a gray sheet of gloom to a beautiful, open sky of gladness and possibility. It made me happy. It made me rejoice. It made me think of what today means, this day we call "Palm Sunday."

As Jesus entered Jerusalem humbly on a colt, this happened:

"As he was drawing near - already on the way down the Mount of Olives -  the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, saying, "Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!" And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, rebuke your disciples." He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.""
(Luke 19:37-40)

The book of Mark tells us that the people were tearing leaves off the palm trees and waving them before Jesus as they praised Him, thus the name Palm Sunday. But read that last thing Jesus says in the passage from Luke, his answer to the Pharisees. If we did not praise Him, the rocks would cry out! I felt so much this morning, as the clouds cleared and revealed a great blue sky that God was opening His arms and receiving our praise. The skies themselves were in worship this morning.

I know what I stand for, and I stand for it without fear of rejection or persecution. Even if I am silenced, there are still so many more proclaiming the name of our holy God. The work of God cannot be silenced. He will receive glory. The world can try to silence us, and when the last Christian on earth is put to rest, the earth itself would proclaim the name of God. Imagine the spectacle that would be!

Our Story: Becoming "Official"

During spring break in 2008, when Garth and I were still not quite a couple, Garth's family was going to Hawaii with his grandparents. I was a little sad knowing I wouldn't get to see him for over a week, especially a week when we had no school, but I was going to stay with a friend while her parents were out of town so I wasn't too heartbroken. Besides, I was still trying to convince myself not to get attached to the boy.

At youth group a few days before they were heading on their trip to the Warm Lands, Garth's mom asked me what I wanted them to bring back for me. I told her I really didn't want anything, that they didn't have to get a gift for me, but she wouldn't have it. Gifting is not my love language. In fact, they tend to make me a little uncomfortable, and being Garth's not-girlfriend made gifts extremely uncomfortable for me.

When I dropped him off after youth group that night, we had one of our nice talks that we always had, as he insisted he wanted to listen to the radio, and would never leave my car. When he finally did leave, I looked through the open door before he closed it and said, "What? No hug?" He smiled and leaned in across the seat, and what I got was not a hug.

Nope, he laughed nervously, leaned in, and gave me a very nice kiss. I was still smiling when I went to rehearsal for chamber orchestra the next morning. My obvious grin that led my friends to see right through to the happenings of the night before was fairly humiliating; but it was such a good feeling.

 That weekend I went over to his house one last time before he went thousands of miles away for ten days. We were sitting on the couch talking, picking on each other as we always seemed to do, and he asked me if I would call him my boyfriend. He wanted to know before he went away. I thought for a few moments, and responded that I would call him my boyfriend if I missed him while he was gone. Yes, I am aware that I was mean, but remember that I was "morally opposed" to becoming attached to him.

After all, I didn't want to ruin whatever possibilities he may have had with the island girls. If only I had known he just wasn't that type.

He left for a family vacation, and I moved into my friend's house for a week and pretended to be a grown-up for awhile. Three days went by, and I did not hear from Garth.

One of the last nights of spring break, halfway through Garth's vacation, my friend and I threw a party. We had promised her parents that we wouldn't have anyone over, but we just couldn't go a whole week without breaking that rule. We went out and got some pop, and picked up the guys so that there wouldn't be any cars sitting outside the house, lest the neighbors be watchful. As we entered the neighborhood, we had everyone duck down in my friend's mom's Nissan Murano (nice big car for transporting a number of teenagers). We had rented some movies, and ordered a pizza. I remember us making fun of ourselves for throwing a party while her parents were out of town, and our drinking consisted only of caffeinated beverages. It was a fun night though, and I don't know if her parents ever did find out, but I'm sure they wouldn't have cared if they knew.

As our party was in full swing, my phone rang. I thought perhaps it was my parents, they hadn't heard from me all week, after all. I was surprised, and very excited, to see Garth's name light up on my phone. I took the call and ran upstairs, and the boy who claimed to not do well talking on the phone kept me retained for an hour.

Yup, he played it well. Gave me time to miss him, then called to show he cared. Smart guy, there. And I didn't suspect a thing.

When he came back the next week I ran over to see him during lunch. He was so excited to see me that he lifted me off the floor when we hugged. I felt like I was living a fairytale for the first time in my life. To my high school child self, this was the way it was supposed to be. The guy had me hooked.

That weekend, I went to his house to "finally" hang out with him, and hear tales of island life from his family. When I got there, his mom sent him away and they all acted suspiciously. Garth went to his room and came back with his arms clasped behind his back. He was acting nervous. He gave me a hug and put a tiny bag in my hand.

I opened my hand to find a string of pearls. I had mentioned once, offhandedly, that I loved pearls, and I couldn't believe he remembered. Maybe he didn't, and just had good taste, but either way he had me.

A week later I told him that I did miss him while he was gone, and that I would like to call him my boyfriend. It was official.

Our Story - The Beginning: Part 2

If you missed part one of Our Story, click here.

Around this time of year, nearing the end of February four years ago, my husband and I went on our first date. Neither of us bothered to keep track of the date, mostly because we didn't really expect to be together forever (well, I didn't, anyway).

The day after the Super Bowl party where my husband Garth and I first bonded, our school group found out that we would be staying at Luther College for an extra night, because school had been cancelled at home due to a snow storm, and the bus would not be coming to get us. Because of the unplanned night spent at the college, the girls had no place to sleep, as we had stayed in the study center. The girls, boys, and teacher all had to stay in the student lounge. Normally this would be a big no-no, but we were a small group of students, and our teacher woke up and patrolled a few times to make sure the boys and girls stayed separated and respectable. My man and I, however, who I called a man-boy at the time, were still awake at the 2:00 teacher patrol, and again at the 4:30 patrol. Why? Well, this beautiful blonde boy who was younger than me was reading his Bible right there in front of everyone. Just that he had brought the Bible with him threw me. I asked him about it, and he totally didn't think it was a big deal. It was just normal to him. I wanted to know more about this person, the type of person who was unashamed to read his Bible in front of his peers outside of church or youth group. The type of person I was not.

My questions started a discussion, which branched off into talking about previous relationships and crushes, family, and all the silliness in jokes and funny life stories that still make us laugh today. We stayed up all night, getting only one hour of sleep, then sat next to each other on the bus ride home and talked some more. Never in all of this time together did we think we would be more than friends; though I know both of us were hoping to be.

The week that followed consisted of he and I running into each other at lunch, as he passed my locker after school, all the places our paths had crossed before that we had never noticed. Then, on that Wednesday night, I finally accepted my best friend's invitation to her youth group, and found "that boy" once again. His mother was there that night, and remembered me as a little blonde girl from when her sons and I went to the same elementary school.

Garth and I found each other after the night's activities and spent the remainder of the night talking. He even begged his mom to let him stay until I left so that I could give him a ride home. When I pulled up to their house that night, I was a little taken aback at the large house they lived in, and asked what his dad did for a living.

"My dad's a doctor." He replied.
"Oh yeah. I think I knew that." I said, embarrassed.

I was invited over for dinner by his parents a few times (yes, not Garth, but his parents), and his brothers and sister took to me well, too. I started wondering if this would become more than just a friendship, but I didn't want to bring it up.

A guy friend of mine from school, who was also friends with Garth, was on to us before we even were. He kept asking us both if we liked each other, and we both always denied it. He kept asking if he could just ask Garth and I finally told him okay, but that I didn't want to know the answer. One day he told me he was finally going to ask, and that he would tell me the answer if I wanted to know. I told him to do with the information what he wished. The next day I received a text message that said, "he likes you!!!"

Of course, I didn't bring this up with Garth.

Two weeks later, on a Wednesday, as I drove him home from youth group, Garth asked me out.

As soon as I began to pull out of the parking lot, he started, "I've been wanting to talk to you about something, but I haven't wanted to do it after school."
"What is that?" I urged.
"Well, I'm wondering if you'll go out with me."
"What do you mean, 'go out with you'? Like, on a date? Or as your girlfriend?" I asked, nervously.
"Like, when people ask if I'm going out with Bre, I can say yes."

I could hear the smile in his voice. At first I was speechless, but when we pulled into the driveway I dug into every reason why he wouldn't want to go out with me, trying to convince him to change his mind. For forty-five minutes all he had to say to each of my reasons was that "that's what I like about you," or, "I don't mind."

So finally, we reached a compromise. I told him he can take me out on a date, and that after just dating and hanging out a little longer I would decide if I really wanted to call him my boyfriend, if he still wanted me to be his girlfriend.

So he asked if I'd like to go to a movie with him that weekend, and I agreed. We went to the theater, and he bought me pop. I can't remember if we got popcorn, or candy, but I remember that the awkwardness I expected was not present during our date. In fact, going on a date with him seemed perfectly natural.

We all know where this story ends. But I hope you'll join me as I tell the story of how we got there.

Real Conversations 2/26

Hey all! Though these tend to be a favorite feature on my blog, I haven't gotten around to writing down our silly conversations for awhile. Isn't it strange how when we try to get into a good habit it's hard to do it, but when we're trying to break a bad habit it's hard to break? If only it were the other way around.

Lately, I have been dealing with a lot of migraines. Most of the problem is caused by my inability to stay away from caffeine, but part of it is just because I'm a girl and my hormones are all wacked out all the time. Some nights my head just hurts so bad that I basically sit in the dark and can't bring myself to make dinner, so I have my man do the cooking. One night in particular, as we were eating a meal prepared by my dear sweet husband, we had a conversation that started out very normal, then escalated into ridiculousness, as they often do.

I said to him, "You didn't really seem to want to make dinner tonight."
He said, "Well, I'm tired, too."
I said, "But your head isn't pounding-" and he cut me off.
"Who said it isn't?"
Me: "... and your neck can still hold up your head. Mine hurts." I rubbed my neck.
Mr.: "My head could hurt."
Me: "Does your head hurt?"
Mr.:  "No. But my... heart.... and my... lungs were pounding."
Me: "I'm no biology student, but I think that's like, how we survive."
Mr.: "Well, point is, my spleen has been under a lot of stress lately."
Me: "Your spleen had nothing to do with your original point."

Yes, we had a good laugh after his spleen statement. Who comes up with that kind of stuff, anyway? What a silly, silly man. But ah, I love him.

Enjoy your week, dear friends. I hope you find laughter in the obscure.

Our Story - The Beginning

This week I have come down with a cold and just felt generally uninspired. Last night I had a drugged-up, groggy, cold-mind dream that I didn't like so much. Someone told me I was a horrible writer, and I then declared, with great conviction, that I would never write again. To me, that dream amounts to a nightmare. So here I am.

Last week, my father-in-law lost his job and is now scrambling for a new one, and we pray faithfully that he will find a good one that will suit him. We just keep reminding him that he's still a doctor, and God has a great plan for him. My husband is looking for a new job as well, and is feeling a bit discouraged. I feel for them both, I hate looking for a job, and in the months to come I will have to start looking for a new one as well, as teachers only get work during the school year.

There is still time, and willpower, to enjoy life, however. Last weekend I did not get nearly enough sleep, which probably kept my immune system from being able to bolster this cold that I'm sure I caught from a former roommate I visited on Saturday. She's a dear friend, though, and as I've gotten sufficient work this week, I don't mind taking a day or two off to get well. It was worth it.

On Sunday we had the E.L.'s over to watch the Super Bowl, and this was a special one for Mr. Wonderful and myself. I have developed an irrational superstition that the Giants winning the Super Bowl is somehow a good omen for me, but not completely without reason. See, it was four years ago at a Super Bowl party that my husband and I first spoke to each other and really got along for the first time (we were on an orchestra trip with the school, and spent the first part of the day avoiding each other since we had insulted one another earlier). It was the Giants vs Patriots that year as well, and I was rooting for the Giants. They became my team (though I will always be loyal to the Vikings). 

At half-time that year, I had given up on watching the game. I never really did watch football, but attempted to watch it every now and then because my dad loved it so much. I went and found the group of students from my high school, and learned that they were about to play a game of charades. Our orchestra teacher, Mr. Berdine, asked me to "round up" the rest of the students and ask them if they'd like to play. We had one girl on the phone, so I bypassed her and looked for my next target.

And there he was.

Off in the middle of the room, on a couch, away from any other activity, was a blond-haired sophomore from my school who played viola (and quite well, might I add). He was sitting alone and sulking because his ex-almost-gf was there (which would be the girl on the phone I mentioned a moment ago). I invited him to play charades, and he said everyone should move over by him. I told him it's a lot easier to move one person than a whole group, and turned a chair to face the circle, telling him that it was his if he wanted it. I went off to talk another person into playing with us, and when I turned back to the circle, there he was. In the very chair I set aside for him.

We ended up on the same team and had a really good time. The two of us made an especially good team, and that helped us get along for a few hours. The next day, we were practically inseparable, and to our astonishment, we have pretty much been that way ever since.

Spicy Citrus Pork Roast

My husband has to be one of the best picky eaters in the world. Not a huge surprise to me, since his mom spent the majority of his teen years actually trying to make new things he had never had before, but he used to throw things away if he didn't like it or just wasn't sure about it. He has come a long way since then, folks. And that is why I call him Mr. Wonderful. He tries every new thing I make (even the occasional vegetable, but he's not quite okay with those yet), and eats it. And often-times, even likes it!

Mr. Wonderful's love of my cooking doesn't make me dance in the kitchen with glee just because of some vain satisfaction I get out of being the Queen of the Kitchen. No. It's because most of the things he loves come straight from my mind to the table. He is simply flabbergasted that I can look into the fridge, pantry, and freezer and piece together a meal without looking at a recipe online, or running to the store to get things I need. It's really what I do. Seriously! And last night it went oh so well for me.

Doc recently returned back from his home with a huge bag of grapefruit. Now, I didn't doubt that he would eat all of that stuff before it went bad, but he was a little concerned about it. So I told him I'd use one and come up with a recipe for it. After all, we did have a big grocery trip coming up, so I looked at the sales and picked a nice pork roast, and whoa, there it was. A sweet, sweet idea. Oh, and little spicy.

Here's how to make Spicy Citrus Pork:

Ingredients: 1 pork roast (mine was 2-3 lbs)
1 cup Ginger-ale
1 large grapefruit, cut in fourths
1 golden delicious apple, cut in half
1 onion, chopped/diced
1 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4-1/2 tsp ground black pepper
1 tsp crushed red pepper (or to taste)
1/2 tsp coriander
salt, to taste

Directions: In a small bowl, mix cayenne pepper, black pepper, crushed red pepper, and coriander. Rub onto pork and allow to marinate in fridge for at least half an hour.
Before putting roast in crock pot, add 1/4-1/2 cup water (I always do this to prevent sticking and help with moisture). Place pork roast in crock pot. Add half of the grapefruit, and both apple halves around roast, and onion on top and around. Pour Ginger-ale over entire roast. Add salt.
Cook on high for six hours or low for eight to ten hours.

The other half of the grapefruit we squeezed into a pitcher, leaving a slice of grapefruit inside, and added the rest of the Ginger-ale. It made a nice complimentary drink with our meal. Next time I do this, I'm going to try cooking it in Coca-cola instead of Ginger-ale, but this was really good!

Savin' Up

Hey all! It's good to have you reading, again. Six out of the last eight days I suffered from migraines, so I spent little time on the computer. Which was really hard. But I mostly sat in the dark with a caffeinated beverage, or water and  ibuprofen, trying to cure the pain. My fabulous husband gave me a massage almost every day (incentive to fake the occasional headache? Eh... no, I can't do that). But now I am migraine-free and so happy.

So, due to lack of work the week leading to Christmas break, for several reasons, I had a pretty pitiful first paycheck of the year. My husband and I try to live a frugal life, but this past month we've had to step back and take an even closer look at what we really need, and what we can live without. So, for you, I will set my pride aside and share some of the ways we have decided to cut back and save money.

1) When we first moved, we decided not to buy snackie foods for the most part. No fruit snacks, pop tarts, chips, etc. We would get cheese, crackers, and we bought ice cream by the gallon, along with a few toppings to choose from, because ice cream lasts a long time when it's shared between two people who only indulge on occasion. We slacked up on this rule around Thanksgiving, but we have implemented it once again. When we do have snacks, they're usually homemade, and dessert is a luxury here. We don't eat it every night, and feel so much healthier that way.

2) Laundry here is $1.25 per load for washing, and then for drying as well. That's $2.50 per load, which really didn't seem like a big deal when we first moved in. But after a week and a half, the hamper starts looking pretty full, and it's time to do laundry again. For us, that's usually two or three loads of clothes alone. Then there's sheets, towels, etc (about once a month or so). So we made a cut in our budget here, too. Don't worry, we didn't cut laundry out of our budget completely! Just drying our clothes in the dryer. Last weekend we tried out bringing our clothes back up to our room to air dry them, and it worked out fine. They're not quite as soft, but beating them out a little while they're in the process of drying takes care of that for the most part. We're going to head out to Target and pick up a drying rack for about $20 soon. This way, we'll be doing four loads of laundry for the cost of two if we were to dry them. That money adds up.

3) I noticed that I'm running out of household cleaners, especially my bathroom/kitchen surface cleaners. It makes sense, because those are the rooms I clean the most, since they're the rooms where the most germs happen. As I was ravaging my cleaning solutions cabinet to see what endless list of things I need to buy on our next shopping trip, I noticed that I had a huge bottle of Pine-sol tucked away in there. I normally just use it to clean the floors, I mean, that's all it's normally credited for, right? Turns out, that stuff can be used for just about anything. Bathtub, sinks, floors, counter tops, toilet. This stuff does it all. It's also much cheaper than most other cleaners, and is super concentrated so you add it water. Using Pine-sol (or an even less expensive generic) will really be giving us more bang for our buck.

4) One more thing that we do, which we have been doing since we moved in, is try to save money by using as little electricity as possible. We have all of our computer hookups, internet, etc, and our television and everything that goes with that, plugged into power-strips.  We don't turn them on until we need them, so normally at the end of the day after we get home from school/work, and we turn them all off every night. We also unplug all chargers, and kitchen and hair appliances when they're not in use. If you don't already do this, it can be hard to get used to, but once you start consciously doing it, it slowly becomes a habit, and it saves money as well as helps the environment.

So, to you who are poor like my husband and myself, there are some ideas for you to implement into your own lifestyle. I hope this was helpful. It doesn't feel good to watch the bank account dwindle and hope and pray to make it to the next paycheck, but it does feel good to be doing things to help save money.

By Faith

Today, we remember one man.

His name was Martin Luther King, Jr. and he had a dream. And it wasn't just to have a holiday named after himself. His dream was that all people would be considered equal, not judged by the color of their skin. His dream was that we wouldn't choose friends, spouses, who gets what job, where to eat, where to sit, how to dress based on the amount of melanin in one's skin.

He was controversial. He was loved by many and hated by many. He was a revolutionary. He wasn't afraid to speak his mind, he was articulate even when put on the spot, and he was passionate about what he was fighting for. We don't have many of these types of people anymore.

Why is he so well remembered, even though he was controversial? Not only did he stir up the masses in his day, but he caused a movement that went on even after he was killed over the cause he was fighting for. He succeeded in his goal, and he is remembered today for all that he did; what he died for.

Martin Luther King, Jr. was a Christian man. A godly man. And he was not afraid. Not afraid to share God's word, not afraid to fight for his cause, not afraid at all. He knew the hope and the joy that was set before him, so he kept going, reassured that God was on his side.

The testimony of this man's life has me thinking about Hebrews chapter 11, the chapter on all that was achieved and set into motion by faith of those who loved and trusted God. I long to have such faith, such conviction, that I would know what to fight for, when to step down, and when to keep right on going no matter how rough the road. By faith.

New Approach

I have decided that it's a new year, and so I will try a new approach to blogging. Less talk about just my boring same-old, same-old life, more writing about the things that matter to me. My goal is to be more relational. Though I'm living in a kind of strange, limbo time in life that is occasionally interesting, I have a desire to draw people in through my writing and have content that people can actually relate to. I want to spark conversation, to spur intrigue. I'm sure you'll still get an occasional peak into the goings on of my life, but it won't be constant and in every post.

As I was tinkering with these ideas last night before bed, I heard the same sound I hear each and every night at bedtime as my husband turned on his amp and tuned up his electric guitar. Each night my husband begins the nightly routine and gets ready for bed before I do, then sits down to unwind and play the guitar. Each night I am serenaded with a few rock songs, and also some beautiful hymns that my husband plays as inspired. I love hearing his interpretation of how to play them, and relax as I get ready and listen to his private, heartfelt bedtime worship.

After I'm ready for bed, we read our Bible passage, do a devotion from our Love Languages devo book, then pray and say goodnight. And that is just one more reason why I call my husband Mr. Wonderful. He's not only a helpful resource around the house, a kind, loving companion, but also my faithful spiritual leader.

Who's the most influential person in your life right now?

The last week, an invitation, and a prayer

So in case it's gone unnoticed, it's been quite a busy week! I haven't been exhausted, but when I'm home all I can say for myself is that I get a sudden burst of laziness and just don't really do anything. I have, however, been a fairly productive straighten-upper and cook around the house lately, so there. Not entirely lazy, just internet/writing lazy.

Yes, my friends, I have hardly written anything other than a text message or note to myself in over a week now. How will I ever finish the two novels I have started? I think I'll just need a nice writing nook and no job, but that would mean I would have to actually finish, publish, and make money off of even one book. Oh my...

So the hubby and I have been very poor all week, and have succeeded in spending money on nothing (with the exception of gas) in a week. As Americans, we feel very accomplished in this! We were even out of quarters so couldn't do more than one load of laundry for the week, which we luckily weren't desperate to get done (don't worry, we're still wearing clean clothes!). We had so little money in our bank account that we were afraid to take anything out just in case, so there was room for bills to be withdrawn. I'm so so thankful that I have a decent job, and for my father-in-law who has been such a blessing to us, though I know he considers not having to live alone up here a blessing himself.

I am quite excited for next week, and a little nervous because of making a new time commitment. But this is a very good time commitment, and it's call Good Morning Girls. Here is a link to the blog, so you can explore the concept for yourself:
http://www.goodmorninggirls.org/2012/01/women-from-all-50-states-and-around-the-world-are-joining-gmg/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+GoodMorningGirls+%28Good+Morning+Girls%29

Now, I get up at 6:30 as it is, and that's really tough, so for me it may be more like a good afternoon thing, but still. It's daily alone time with the Lord, and accountability with other women. I feel that I really need something like this right now so I'm very excited for it to start up next week! The best part, to me, is that it's done through e-mail so I don't have to go to weekly meetings, and I get to do it with my sister who lives in a different town and my friend who lives out of state!

And now a reminder to pray for those in Haiti today. It is the two year anniversary of the earthquakes that shattered their homes and cracked open the opportunity for many to pour out their love to the country. A work still in progress, but changing lives every day.

Crock Pot Hot Sauce Chicken

Tonight I cooked my first real meal of the new year. I'm not actually so lazy, I was going to cook earlier in the week but forgot to thaw the meat out in time. Then yesterday, when I did have some chicken thawed out in the refrigerator, my husband and I were both sick so of course I did not make dinner, or anything really. However, I feel that I owe the whole week's failure of kitchen savvy to tonight's delicious meal. I also owe it to my one past relationship before I met Mr. Wonderful, because without that relationship, I would not have gotten the simple recipe that led to the incredible meal I made tonight.

Rainbow had a sale on select chicken this week, for 99 cents a pound, so we went over there and stocked up on chicken thighs, so naturally we will be eating quite a lot of chicken in the next few weeks. When thinking of what to make tonight, I went back to a recipe for hot wings that my ex-boyfriend's sister gave to me. The only regret I had after breaking up with my ex was that I wouldn't get to eat his mother's cooking anymore, and she was a fantastic cook. Well, today I decided to start with that recipe and spruce it up so it was crock pot friendly (and a little easier on the taste buds).

I tried to get pictures, but the lighting in our apartment just doesn't cut it, and I refuse to post sub-par pictures for this incredible meal. My camera just can't handle the demands I put upon it, and despite my pleas and hint dropping to all family members to pool money and get me a nice new camera, I'm stuck with the one I got around five years ago. Camera aside, I will now give you the recipe. Please remember that I rarely measure things when I'm just making it up as I go along; I tend to have a pretty good eye for how much to use of each ingredient and only measure when really unsure.

Crock Pot Hot Sauce Chicken:

Ingredients: 2-4 chicken thighs, one stick butter (no substitutes), crystal hot sauce - to taste, 1/2 cup water, crushed red pepper, salt, black pepper, garlic, 1/2 tsp thyme, lemon zest.

Instructions: Heat whole stick of butter in a dish or bowl until entirely melted. Add Crystal hot sauce to taste, more is better, but too much can be, well, too much (it's pretty spicy). Add water to crock pot, then place the chicken thighs in water. Pour hot sauce mixture evenly over and around thighs. Sprinkle in salt, pepper, lemon zest, thyme, and garlic over top of chicken, covering lightly. Set crock pot on high for 6 hrs. Serve with sides of choice.

We had au gratin potatoes with our chicken tonight, which was delightful, but I also thought that baked potatoes, fries, or couscous would have been very good as well. And of course, don't forget a veggie!

My husband kept commenting on how tender and moist the chicken was, which isn't always easy to get using a crock pot. We both also liked how well the flavor really penetrated through the chicken and saturated it all the way through. It was overall a terrific meal, and I am very proud of myself, I can't deny.

I hope you will try this and enjoy =)

1 Year of Marriage: In Memorium

Yesterday my husband and I celebrated our one year wedding anniversary. We went on a little stay-cation (which is apparently a word now), and treated ourselves a bit, and had a really good time. It's surreal that a year ago we were on our first day of marriage, not really sure what to do, getting over the events of our wedding day! Which was a really beautiful day that I will, of course, never forget.

I said in the last post that we were staying at a four-star hotel, which I feel safe and free telling you now was the Hotel Sofitel in Minneapolis. My french class would stop there every year for lunch in their restaurant, Chez Colette on our way to Concordia Language Villages for french camp, and I have always wanted to stay there. So months ago I began searching for deals for a room there and found a great one on priceline.com. We're both so glad I did! It was a wonderful stay; the lounge was beautiful, the room was clean, room service was on time with our breakfast in the morning (I like room service. Expensive, but I think my new favorite thing).

 This was called a "Black and White" cake. The cake wasn't very good, but the toppings, chocolate, and white chocolate filling were delicious.

 All dressed up with nowhere to go. That's our favorite way.

It was no cruise, which we did for our honeymoon a year ago, but it was a very pleasant way to spend our anniversary. We brought Chinese take-out (to a French hotel, teehee), our cake, and sparkling spumante (because we don't drink much), so that we wouldn't have to leave the room all night. We're both introverts, so when we "go away," it's preferable that we have to deal with outsiders as little as possible. Last night we got all dressed up and stayed in and enjoyed our food and each others' company =)

We discussed last night what our favorite parts of our first year married were, and of course, both had pretty similar things. Highlights from our first year of marriage:

-Our wedding day, of course!

-Our honeymoon cruise to the Bahamas, a gift from his grandparents.

-Volunteering at Sonshine Festival together and seeing some of our favorite bands in concert, and selling their merch! Even though it rained pretty much the whole time and was extremely muddy.

-Okoboji family Bible camp, where he has gone every year with his family since he was a baby, and where he proposed.

-Moving into our first home together! (Especially the first month before his dad moved up... not that we don't love him! It was nice to be just the two of us together, though).

We're hoping for another nice, blessed year this year as we enter our second year of marriage. This year we look forward to seeing two of our favorite couples get married. The future E.L.'s, and our ex-third-wheel, Papa Bear, and his new fiance! We're excited to welcome them to the realms of the young-marrieds, and can't wait to see what's in store for them all.