Goodbye for Now

Hello world.

Before I say anything more, I would like to apologize. I am super cranky today, and I just can't handle my emotions. Aside from getting virtually no homework done last night (the school's computer server was down), I also found out that my husband has to work on my birthday. He asked for the day off, but so many people asked for that day off that, well, someone had to work. That someone is him.

I'm really having a hard time accepting that I'll be home alone eating Ramen on my couch on my birthday. It doesn't seem fair. It feels like a punishment. Will it steal my joy? No. But I have to say, I'm feeling discouraged.

So, instead of pretending all is well and writing something poetic and hopeful, I decided to just tell it like it is this morning. Nobody's life is perfect, and we can't expect them to be. Next month, when I'm looking for ways to make money by writing during a few weeks without employment, I won't even be thinking about this day.

I apologize because this is my last post for about a month, and it's not a great one. I have to finish this semester strong, and then I plan to get some hours in with the schools. So I'm sorry to leave you this way. If you haven't been around for long, please go back and read some of my previous posts. If you like what you read, please hit the little "follow" button. Or subscribe. You will be notified next time I post, and that way you won't miss a thing once I'm back. Also, it's always encouraging to gain more followers. You guys push me to do better.

See you in a month.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Christmas Festivities Lowdown (Long Version)

I'm excited to tell you that I had probably the best Christmas of my life last weekend, which is lucky, because it was my first Christmas with my husband, who I love calling Mr. Wonderful, because that is what he really is. But I'm warning you, this is a long one. Turn back now if you don't have the time, but I put a lot of work into this. Thanks in advance if you continue now.

Here is the Christmas festivities low-down:
We first went to Austin on Friday, the good old hometown.We had some time to rest at the in-laws', and briefly go over the music for the Christmas Eve service at church that the family was playing for. I'm pretty sure it was beautiful, or that's what everybody said, anyway. My nerves always go way through the roof when I play because I have never had high-self-esteem (don't believe in it) when it comes to my playing, and therefore can never tell for sure when to call it a job well done. That aside, after our rehearsal we had dinner as a family at the new Vietnamese restaurant in town, Top Noodle. If you're ever in Austin, MN, for whatever reason that would be, I have no idea, go eat at the Top Noodle. Austin has many great hometown restaurants, but this one is the most unique, and I would have to say, the most authentic. Oh yes, and it's delicious. I've never had such amazing egg rolls in my life. But enough about dinner.

Lo, there was no room for the newlyweds in the inn (err... parents' home, because of the foreign exchange student in their guest room). So we slept on the floor. Never again. I really hadn't thought sleeping on the floor was something I would have to give up for another five to ten years, but nope, age has somehow caught up with my body and sleeping on the floor is just not advisable. This is getting embarrassing. Segue.

On Christmas Eve we had a fab time trading names and Christmas lists/shopping guidelines with some of the cousins to do (now traditional?) Crazy Cousin Christmas! We all went shopping together and it was a lot of fun to avoid (or shop with) the person we were finding a gift for. We then went home and wrapped them, and headed to our Christmas Eve service, which I have already addressed as a success. My family even drove into town from 45 minutes away. It was nice to have them there.

After exchanging some quick gifts with some of the family members on my husband's dad's side of the family, (confused?) including our cousin gifts, my man and I took off to meet up with my mom's side of the family. Which was also a lot of fun, and we got some pretty cool gifts for our kitchen. And for my husband's head, neck, and hands, which shall be forever warm no matter what the weather. Thanks Grandma!

On Christmas day, the best day of the year, we got up early to get ready to go spend the morning with my family, but first we finished gift-opening with the in-laws. We received some super cool lunch bags, which we were both in need of, and some really handy cleaning supplies, amongst other cool trinkets and treasures. Then we were off to see my family, which was quite a nice way to spend Christmas morning!

Mr. Wonderful got his circus peanuts he always asks for but I never let him buy (ack! so icky!). We also got a mixer (more pie! more pie!), an air popcorn popper, and an air mattress (never sleeping on the floor again!). But really, it was just so nice to spend some time with my family on Christmas day, and made the fact that we had a brown (rather than white) Christmas. Yes, somehow, MN is in need of some snow!

After a fabulous, over-indulgent brunch with my family we drove up north a bit to see my mother-in-law's side of the family, where we got to see all of the cutest cousins. We had some fun games of dirty bingo for the kids, the men, and the women, and exchanged normal, nice gifts with the family as well. I got a nice blue throw, which is on my couch, and I find reasons to use it even though our house is too warm.

We exchanged gifts together after we got home Monday night. I got him some more candy I never let him buy, and some games because gaming is his way of destressing, which is important because he is normally so mellow! Which is one thing I love about him most. Another thing I love about him is his ability to buy me great gifts, especially when it's something I only mentioned once and didn't put on my gift list. I am now the proud owner of every Jane Austen book, conveniently packed into one giant book. He also gave me a box of all dark chocolates. I couldn't possibly have a better husband for myself. And that's why he is Mr. Wonderful.

We are now cozy in our home, with all of our gifts tucked away in their new homes. We had decided to dedicate ourselves to working out every day this week, and so far I want to give up. I do not have more energy yet, but maybe a better attitude. It's kind of hard to tell with PMS and a headache induced by post-work-out sore muscles. By the end of the week, though, we expect to feel better and be on our way to having bodies of the gods. Ho-ha! Tomorrow I hope to have the energy (and relaxed muscles) to begin cleaning my apartment, which I want spotless by the end of the week. Just the way I like it. Wish me luck!

Blog #28, done! Thanks for reading my long long post. The next one will be more entertaining.

What was your best Christmas present this year?

Mr. Wonderful Learns How to Cook and Remove Stains

He cooks, he cleans, he is my Wonderful. Over the weekend we were trying to figure out what to do with our old (never used by us) printer from his grandparents, and Mr. Wonderful noticed an ink stain on the carpet. We have no idea where the ink is coming from, but every now and then it just inks. He started panicking and asked if it would come out and I directed him to the linen closet for the stain remover we have, which is actually for laundry, but not exclusively if you ask me. He came back with it, still panicking, "what do I do now? What do I do?" he was asking as he sprayed it on the spots. I told him to let it sit for awhile and then come back with a cloth and dab, not rub. He came back a bit later with a cloth asking, "Dab, rub, dabrubdab?" I told him dab, yes, and he started at it and lo and behold, there was no longer a stain. He was remotely surprised that it worked but now he knows for a lifetime how to remove a stain. Thank goodness!

Even better, however, last night he made pork chops. Usually if he's designated the cooking job for the night we'll end up eating pasta with no sauce, mac and cheese, or ramen. I am now beginning to think this was a ploy to keep me from desiring him to cook, because last night, without writing a thing down, I gave him verbal direction on how to cook pork chops before I left to help a friend with a Comp assignment. When I came home the apartment smelled delicious and we had some very tasty pork chops stored away in the refrigerator, which we ate for lunch today. I'm so proud of my hubby!

Get them while they're young, that's all I'll say!

Now, for those of you wanting to expand your cooking skills, or perhaps teach someone an easy way to cook pork chops (or large slices of pork tenderloin), here's what we do:

Pour enough vegetable or olive oil in the bottom of a skillet to cover the bottom. This varies depending on the size of your skillet.

If you want seasoning, make a dry rub, and rub it on entire chop, but pork chops are fine plain. For beginners, sprinkling some seasoned salt, garlic, or just salt and pepper works fine, or use a favorite seasoning. (My husband just cooked them straight up, no seasoning, and we seasoned them before eating).

Place them on skillet and turn stove on to Medium heat. Cook for 9-10 minutes, then turn over and cook for another 8 minutes. To prevent from dry meat, turn only once.

When time is up, voila! You have some pork chops. Hooray for you (or your friend/relative/college student), congrats on your new cooking skills and enjoy!

Blog #18, done! Now go impress a friend.