Our Story: The Wait

My husband and I waited until marriage to have sex. That's practically unheard of these days, I know. Sometimes I wonder if we only waited for fear of being caught in an awkward situation, but then I remember the times we had opportunity but parted ourselves anyway. There is one time in particular that frequently comes to mind, and occasionally I feel we should win some sort of medal for purity - though most of the world would just call us foolish.

One year, before my man graduated from high school (I was in my second year of college), I went to Orlando with his family. At the resort, I shared a room with his sister, and he and his brother slept on the hide-a-bed in the living room. On our last day there he and I were sent back up to the room for a forgotten key to return it to the office. While in the room, we thought to double check for any other forgotten items. We also, since we were alone, essentially locked in the room, took the opportunity to kiss without his family members making comments. Two young people rarely kiss in private without going horizontal, so it follows that we ended up on one of the beds, he on top of me. 

This, of course, would have been the opportune time for us to tear each others' clothes off. And oh, we wanted to. Between kisses we talked about how exciting it would be, and how no one would know. After all, society expected it of us anyway, right? Who would ever believe we didn't? 

But we stood up, grabbed the spare key, and returned it to the office. Then we crawled into the van with the rest of his family, unembarrassed, and watched the resort disappear into the endless line of Disney-themed hotels and chain restaurants. That's my favorite part.

I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,
    that you not stir up or awaken love
    until it pleases.

               Song of Solomon 8:4

Secret-Keeper

When I was senior in high school I once planned and hosted a surprise party for a friend. Actually, the friend was my ex-boyfriend, but we were good friends for awhile after our break-up. I remember how hard it was to get the chance to talk to his friends without him around or making him suspicious. It was so hard to plan the party without letting it slip that we were doing something so special for him. But the reward was that he really was surprised, and felt so good to have all his friends work so hard just for him.

Have you ever had really good news that you're not allowed to talk about... at least not yet? If you've ever been invited to a surprise party, you know how hard it is not to talk about something that's exciting. For me, well, I have two exciting secrets that are not yet to be revealed.

How does one go about not gushing about exciting news? For me, I think I may sort of over-compensate by being perhaps overly friendly to the bearer of the good news. When I find myself having a hard time not telling anyone I just contact the person whose secret it is to be told and talk to them about it. The problem with this is that when the conversation is over I then find myself bouncing with anticipation to tell others.

What I've realized, though, is that secret-keeping pays off when done for the right reasons. In my present situation, it's not actually my news to tell, and as excited as I am to talk about the news and make plans, I've committed to being faithful in keeping the secrets of others.

Get ready, because in the next few weeks (or in about a month), there will be an explosion of fantastic news on this blog. I am so excited to share with you the wonderful things happening in the lives of my family and friends.

I'm curious to know: how do you keep a secret, well, secret?

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.

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 - 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.

A Little Update

I am only here to tell you that I am far too tired to update today. Not that you knew or anything, but I decided to take the week off my blog, meaning today, as the beginning of the new week, I should update. I do miss writing on here. But oh, I am really just so tired.

Coming soon:
-Why I hate Black Friday
-Pics of the new car (yes, that's right, new car)
-Pics of my beautiful plants which are successfully growing!

Also, I'd just like to let you all know that words cannot describe how much I love my husband. Meaning that how good God is to me is completely inexplicable.

Blog #22, done (phew). I hope your Thanksgiving break was filled with things to be thankful for.