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.