Glimpses to Cling to

Sometimes life is so complicated and cloudy that I can’t sleep. Sometimes when I pray I feel like I’m just talking to myself, so I exhale, shrug my shoulders and give up. “This is just the season I’m in right now,” I’ve been saying. But sometimes it feels like an awfully long season. Sometimes my inner voice is so mean she makes me doubt myself, my relationships, my abilities. She also refuses to let those extra pounds I’ve gained go unnoticed. Sometimes I spend an entire hour in a counseling session unashamedly crying as the pile of tissues in my lap gets bigger and bigger.

But then my counselor stops me. She tells me to breathe in deeply – as deep as I can till I can’t breathe in any more. And release.

But then I receive a note from a kind friend who describes me with words I wouldn’t have used for myself. Edifying words, words that build instead of break.

But then I look across the table and my eyes are met with Timothy’s eyes: eyes I love and want to look into forever. And I know that when I don’t know anything.. his love I can trust.

But then I go to a wedding and I watch a woman whom I have loved and respected and admired for a very long time marry a man who looks at her in a way that makes me cry silently, and happily, in my wooden pew. She’s a vision in her white, lace dress and I think about all the ways she has been so kind to me since I met her, and how her new husband is going to be loved so well and so.. big. I can’t sing along with the hymns because I’m distracted by the way he is holding her hand on the altar and looking at her like he doesn’t realize we are all there.

Glimpses of bigger, beautiful things. Heart, hold fast to these glimpses. To these things that make life worthwhile and full, because sometimes life doesn’t feel very full or even very kind. When its hard to breathe, remember the way he looked at her in her wedding dress. Remember Timothy – always Timothy – and the way his bearded cheek feels against yours. Remember that you’re loved by people who know you deeply, have seen you in your lowest.. and stayed.

Timothy, my husband.

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It feels like a crime – like I’m fighting against all that is right and good and natural – pulling away from the curve of your neck. That space where I rest my head. My forehead and nose cradle the line that rises from your shoulder to your beautiful jaw; that space where I fit. They say home is where you lay your heart – I think home is being nestled against you like two perfect puzzle pieces. Where I feel the warmth of your skin pressed against my face. Where your beard faintly rubs against my hair line as you speak. There’s never a good enough reason to leave this spot. No appointment so important or hour too late. For when we separate, my face feels cold away from your skin and my eyelashes beg to dance on your neck.

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Sometimes when I flutter awake in the middle of night I reach out and rest my hand on your back or your shoulder or your arm. Because you’re there: taking up space in the most private of spaces. Because I have you to reach out and touch. I reach for you because you’re mine, and I’m yours and we have vowed to always rest next to one another. I reach out for you while you’re so deep in your own sleep because I want to redeem all the nights I fell asleep so lonely. I think of those nights and my heart aches for my younger self, wishing she knew that you were coming. I think of the nights I cried myself to sleep, then I think of nights when we first met and I fell asleep thinking of you. Now you don’t just fill my thoughts, you fill my space. You’re there. I listen to you breathe, to your heart, and I thank God for your dependable lungs and heart and body. I ask Him to keep them working so hard and so long so that you and I have no shortage of these moments in our life together. I keep my hand on your back as I fall back asleep because you’re there, and I can.

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We often say to each other as we’re half out the door, “hey! you’re my best friend!” and you are. Wholly and truly, my best friend. You’re my safe space and home base and my true love. My heart was fragmented when I met you; tired and delicate, worn and used. I’ve seen you tenderly love so many people since I met you, and the first one I witnessed was me. You loved me like I had never been loved from the very start. You felt safe immediately, even when we introduced ourselves and laughed and told stories that very first night when you filled the only empty seat at your favorite Mexican restaurant, which happened to be next to me.

My heart rejoices at the thought of that empty seat next to me being filled by the man who would redeem every heartache. The curve of your neck is my safe space, your place next to me in bed is home, and you, undoubtedly, are my best friend.

 

The photo above is from a shoot we did with our super talented friends, Jake & Katie for Jordandene

 

 

 

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The Most Important Thing We Do.

I have decided that I will never ever again ask someone, “so how’s married life?!”

It isn’t a good question. It’s surface level and always asked in passing. It’s a feeler’s and introvert’s nightmare. Because what I want to say… is that it’s really good and so hard sometimes because you have to apologize a lot and often for things you have never had to apologize for in the past because you’ve never been married before and you were always able to make your own decisions and do things the moment you thought of them (that’s me to a T – I have to do everything the moment I think of it. My new husband, it turns out, does not share this crippling desire) and you always were able to watch whatever you wanted in the evenings and you never had to share your popcorn. But it’s all still really okay because now you have someone to help you wash the dishes and you get to lay down next to each other at the end of the day when the phones are put away and the blankets are pulled up to your chin and you talk about the silly bits of the day that had passed and those moments easily make up for every blunder.

Instead, though, I just respond with “Great!”

But it’s so much more layered than “Great”! It’s so much greater than that word does justice and it’s so much trickier than you expect! It’s allowing a colorful Star Wars pillow case to be on your all cream colored bed because your husband loved it, and it’s being the person who bought it for him in the first place – knowing that it would clash in every way- because life is more than keeping your home white on white on white (no matter what instagram says). It’s watching movies you don’t really care to watch (two weeks ago we watched both Braveheart and You Drive Me Crazy) (how good is Drive Me Crazy?) but who cares because you’re hanging out with your very best friend.

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One of the best parts, to me, has been praying together. Sometimes we both pray, sometimes one of us prays the entire time if the other is feeling heavy. Sometimes it’s entirely about others and sometimes it’s entirely about our relationship. Every time, though, it’s good.

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Last night, after devouring a sleeve of Saltine Crackers for dinner, we pulled two of our wobbly dining room chairs together. One of us was about to make a phone call to a family member and we weren’t excited about it because truth needed to be spoken and love needed to be given and Christ needed to be reflected. And that’s really intimidating sometimes. We knew that it had to be God speaking – that He had words to share with his beloved and our mouths were just going to be the vehicle that he would use. We asked God to get ourselves out of the way. We asked him to prepare the heart and the ears that were going to receive our phone call and to be oh so present.

Sometimes when I pray, particularly out loud, I start to realize things only as I am saying them. It’s the same as when I write – I don’t have the words ahead of time, God tosses them to me as we go and they usually are ones that I needed myself. Last night as we were praying, I heard myself say “God, let us remember that loving other people is the most important thing that we do. We get distracted with our hobbies and friends and the people we wish were our friends and our list of tasks, but all of that pales in comparison to the importance of loving other people.”

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And now, an overheard conversation between Katie and her incredibly patient Heavenly Father:

“Hey, Katie. God here. Loving others is the most important thing you do. I noticed you were spending a lot of time doing the opposite of that.. so I just thought I would remind you. ”

“So true. Could you come back in like a second? I have to post on @choosetampa and like all the tagged pictures, it’s a whole big thing..”

“That’s not even importan- no. Listen, your time could be wiser spent. Loving others is the most important thing you do.”

“That makes so much sense, God, but I’ve only watched the entire series of Gilmore Girls seven times and I know I can make it eight*. Hey, while I have you, go ahead and bless Amy Sherman- Palladino because this show is just..”

“What? Just- Katie, for once in your life be cool. I’m telling you to do one thing. One thing. Love others. Write letters and cook a meal and help people move even though it’s hot (I hear you complain – I KNOW it’s hot) and make difficult phone calls and use your money for wiser things and, seriously, pay attention to the things that people are carrying because as my daughter and my love, I expect you help carry that weight right off their shoulders.”

*I have watched the entire series of Gilmore Girls WAY more than eight times. Way more. Embarrassingly more. Team Jess till the day I die. 

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Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.

Loving others it the most important thing that we do. It’s the best use of our time and money and hearts. Friends, I’m going to try to love you so much better. Timothy, I will spend my whole life learning how to love you like Christ. 

What My Parents Taught Me About Love ♡

ImageToday is my parents 36th wedding anniversary. 37-38ish years ago my dad was a little league coach to a group of young boys, one of which was one of my older brothers. My mom thought he was a babe, my dad thought she was a fox (they were both right). She invited the coaches over for dinner one evening to thank them for being so great to my brother, and told my dad to bring his wife along. But as it turned out…

… he wasn’t married. And the plot thickens.

Having parents who are still married is now the exception and no longer the rule. This makes me really really sad. But also, really aware of how blessed I am. Our culture has a very morphed and contorted view of marriage, generally speaking. There are lots of reasons for this. A large one is based simply on statistics: if most marriages end in divorce, why bother? And I understand why individuals would be inclined to feel that way. After all, we don’t see many solid marriages in real life or even on television. And yet, no matter what those statistics say or what cynics say or what movies and culture tell me about marriage… I’ve seen a biblical example of it right before my eyes.

A SAMPLING OF WHAT MY PARENTS HAVE TAUGHT ME ABOUT LOVE:

  • It’s hard. All good things are, this is a no brainer.
  • It’s something you choose every day. Marriage isn’t a black hole in which you keep perpetually falling more and more in love. You must decide to stay there in the moments it would be easier to not.
  • I’m not making a bold egalitarian vs. complementation stance here (although I could), but no matter what the conservative church or Mark Driscoll says, love is made up of mutual submission to one another and ultimately to Christ. My parents are partners. My parents fill what is lacking in the other so that they can most glorify God. My parents care deeply about the other’s relationship with God and tend to it.
  • Love is praying together every morning even when you’re mad.
  • Love is also dancing together [ Sidenote: the most romantic thing I have ever witnessed was when my dad built my mother a dance floor in our backyard with white christmas lights strung up around it. He led her out there and they danced and laughed and cried together ].
  • Often you go places you don’t want to with people you don’t want to. Tough beans, do it with a smile because your spouse’s joy is more important than your comfort zone.
  • You can be angry and you can yell and you can slam doors. But apologize.

But the main thing my parents taught me about love and ultimately marriage is that while it’s never perfect, it’s worth working for. My parents don’t have a romance like in The Notebook. They have a way better one. They hold one another while weeping over the loss of family members, or when face to face with health scares, or when life is just really really hard. But then, when the weeping has ceased, they tenderly set the sadness aside and play scrabble together on the back porch.

Happy anniversary, mom & dad. Thank you for teaching me about love, God, marriage, grace, and forgiveness.