Happy Anniversary!

Random thoughts about us...


I was 21-years old. You were 28. We met in March of 1993. One evening in early April you took me to see the movie, "Jack the Bear" at the Lincoln Heights Theatre on the South Hill. Afterward, we went to The Onion in downtown Spokane, shared french fries and mozzarella sticks. Then we walked through Riverfront Park. At the end of the night I thought, hm, nice guy. I was pretty sure I had scared you off: You were mortified when I wanted to waltz with you on the bridge over the Spokane River... in the moonlight. After all, someone might be watching.





But, you asked me out a few nights later. And a couple days after that, too.





Seven months later, I married you on November 23rd.

Overlooking the valley from up in the German Alps along the Germany-Austria border.

We didn't know each other. Not really. We both came into the marriage lugging our baggage along with us, blissfully, albeit naively, unpacking our metaphorical elephants and then spending the first few years tiptoeing around them.

Caen, France.

We struggled to mesh our hopes and dreams. We muddled along, sometimes taking great smooth strides, other times limping -- holding one another up -- as we figured out our family's values.

Sunset at the North Sea... near Brugge, Belgium.

Mr. Steady marries FreeSpirit.

Different in sooo many ways. Committed to a life-time of learning how to love one another better.

North Sea, near Brugge, Belgium.

I was in a whimsical mood -- He was being a total goofball.

My heart replays 16 years of history with this man who continues to woo me, pursue me, romance me. I, who am impossible at times. You, so true-blue.

We come at life from such vastly different angles: you from a silly, goofball angle; me from an analytical, pondering angle. I see the far-off vision, ask the "What if..." You live in today, ask, "What's for supper tonight?"

North Sea near Brugge, Belgium

16 years of God's grace and mercy. 16 years of memories. 16 years.

9 years of Married Couples Night Out (MCNO), a guaranteed date twice a month. How we miss that!!! We went to lunch, just the two of us, on Monday -- the fourth date we've been on since moving here 2+ years ago. Hmm. Something we need to remedy.

Beneath the Eifel Tower in Paris, France.

I dream of seeing the world. You figure out where we'll eat and sleep upon our arrival.

Me, the visionary. You, the get-er-done man. Literally, I dream out loud, "Wouldn't it be fun to ___________?" You have a knack for making it happen.

Chess Square, Amsterdam, Holland

On Monday we toasted, our iced tea glasses chnked, "To us."


When we mentioned our anniversary to our children Isaiah said, "Good job!" smile. Yes, good job. We laughed, and he wanted to know what was so funny. We explained marriage is no easy feat. Sometimes it's a lot of hard work. That it takes committment. He pondered that for a moment, then, "Really?"

Really, really.

That evening I looked into your eyes, "Thank you for asking me to marry you."

"Thank you for saying 'yes.'"

If I had it to do over, I'd choose you again.

I love you.

ROME, ITALY ~ April 16 - 21, 2009

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Encourage Thyself, Sister!

Overwhelmed by "mama guilt," disappointed in not meeting my own expectations, self-pity overshadowed my afternoon hours. Yet, later, in the stillness of moments when drifting into sleep, Spirit whispered,

But David strengthened himself in the Lord his God.

I Samuel 30:6

Today is a new day. And I'm charged with a sense of renewed purpose. Renewed hope.

(You're so right, Bethany, a good night's sleep does wonders! Two more in a row ought to set the gauges at full! Wise counsel, Dear Friend!)

"Every day is a chance for a new stance like every song is the beginning of a new dance!" (One World by Toby Mac) Time to dance! smile.

The story in I Samuel 30 reads like an action-thriller. All the elements of a fast-paced blockbuster are in there. What I love is that the story didn't end with David's discouragement. Instead, he encourages himself in the Lord and then goes on to win the victory.

Yes. Today I will take back ground. Today I will be victorious. Today I will spread an infectious attitude of thankfulness.

This is the day which the Lord has made;

[I] will rejoice and be glad in it.

Psalm 118:24

Like the sunrise that gloriously greets this new day, my soul is filled with gratitude and expectation. Today I'll lay mosaic tiles...

Are you as curious as I am as to the art, the beauty, the inspiration, the adventure that lies ahead?

Because He lives.

But thanks be to God, who gives [Sharon] the victory through [her] Lord Jesus Christ. ~ I Cor. 15:57

(Photos: Views of the sunrise from our village.)

Laying Tiles

"Thanks, Mom! You're nice and sweet!" She skips toward the door, lacing arms through coat sleeves as she steps outside. "Oh!" She puts her head around the edge of the door, "And if you had said 'no' I would still have a good attitude!"

{long, long sigh} It's the time of day for grand intentions.

• Make sure I'm available when Israel walks through the door. (No computer, no FB, no having my nose in a book...)
• Have a healthy snack ready... Maybe even meet her at the bus stop.
• Hang out with her while she works on homework.

I diligently keep an eye on the time, then procrastinate, reasoning Just a few more minutes, catch up on a few friends through their blog or FB status, read the latest celeb news, peruse the kitchen cupboards for chocolate (though I already know there isn't any -- I devoured the last of it recently)... Stand in the middle of the kitchen and laugh at myself as I relate to Evelyn Couch when she cries to Ninny Threadgoode, "I wish I had the courage to get it over with and get really fat!" (from Fried Green Tomatoes)

My! This wallowing in self-pity! These self-talk mosaic tiles, things I wouldn't think of saying to another person! This pattern is hopeless. Utterly defeating.

Tiles of good intentions that I lay in a pattern wrought in procrastination and perfectionism. Overwhelmed by racing thoughts, I try to subdue them with food while the tangled mess becomes -- well, not what I had pictured. But then, that's the way of distraction, isn't it?

To live up to the "nice and sweet" in me. To lay the tiles in a pattern that makes sense, makes art. Brings about inspiration. To follow through on the goal. To fix my gaze straight ahead, not distracted by what is on my right or my left, but to proceed forward.

This funk leaves me feeling emotionally exhausted, used up, anxious... and no good to anyone. Self-absorption drains resources.

I long to skip toward my destination full of thankfulness, no matter what. To carefully place tiles that will be a blessing.

Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eyelids look straight before thee. Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established. Turn not to the right hand nor to the left; remove thy foot from evil. ~Proverbs 4:25-27

(Photos from an Ancient Roman Bath House nearby.)

Guilty By Association

I laughed so hard I almost cried. She gave me a disclaimer before she began, "This may seem a little petty..." A momentary pause as though she considered whether to go on or not. And then, "But I asked the family who has been sitting on our bench at church the last couple of weeks to move to another bench." Overcome with disbelief, I looked at her in confusion. She explained, "Well!" wide hand gestures punctuated the air, "We've been sitting on that bench for the last six years! Now that we only have a few weeks left, I just want to sit where we've always sat. Everyone at our church knows that's our bench!" As her words sunk in, I laughed.

I slapped my knee. "That sums up all that's wrong with Christianity and the churches!" I said. And then I said expletives like, "Oh heavens!" and "My goodness!" Exactly. May heaven have mercy on us sorry pharisees. And may my goodness be seen for what it is, the sadly arrogant, self-centered, narcissistic endeavors that they are.

I thought about her story. all. day. I mulled it over. Until, that night, I cried. Not laughed until an almost-cry. But cried at the sorry state of Christianity. Realized again why I cringe when someone asks me if I'm a Christian. What do they associate with that term, Christian?

I asked my friend if this other family was new. Perhaps that's why they didn't know whose bench they were sitting in? She confirmed their recent arrival.

Christ came to bring the Gospel? And Gospel means Good News? Yes? Okay. Did that family receive good news last Sunday? A smile. A hug. An, "Are you new to the area? How are you settling in?"

And the more I thought about this, the deeper the conviction ran. I cringed at all the ways in a day that I stir up strife over meeting my comforts, my expectations, my wants and needs. As Kay Warren writes in her book Dangerous Surrender, "The kingdom of me."

Seriously?

Jesus, rock my world. Does that prayer scare me? More than I can say. Jesus, I surrender all. Really? Well, I admit, it'll be a struggle. The kingdom of me has a fierce ruler who won't be de-throned easily. Flesh loves her power, her control, her comforts. But count me in. For the battle. For the stretch. For the adventure like no adventure -- that of a life completely surrendered.

I am crying as I write this. The gift of a spirit of intentionality. The gift of brokenness. The desire to have a heart that cries over the things that God cries over. To celebrate what He celebrates. To quite turning a blind eye to that which isn't pleasant. To live as though I really believe that life is short. To live grateful for these precious gifts, heart's desires, longings from a generous Father, Who gives more grace.

I hesitated to post this blog. Talking. Always talking. Passive. Noise.

My sister, Catherine, has a quote on her FB that sums up my feelings, "The only measure of what you believe is what you do. If you want to know what people believe, don't read what they write, don't ask what they believe, just observe what they do." ~Ashley Montagu

I've posted a short video clip below (go to my actual blogsite to view). In the video Straton says, "I used to think that preaching was enough."







I long to know Christ's heart. I long to live... fully alive. I understand that someone else may "sit on my bench" and that sometimes I'll have an opportunity to grow through accomodating someone else. I understand preaching is not enough. I understand I need to show up. I understand I need to kick Flesh off the throne in areas of my heart which I've selfishly held onto -- and invite the King of Kings to reign instead.

Christ's grace is scandalous. I want to be associated with that kind of grace. That kind of love. That kind of service. Guilty by that kind of association.


Please pray for me.

My Inflated Ego

Israel: Mom, I know what I want to dress up as for halloween.

Me: (raised eyebrows since I'm always a little traumatized at halloween and still haven't figured out how to get through it with charm and grace) Oh yeah?

Israel: I'm going to dress up as a mommy.

Me: (long, adoring sigh... feeling totally encouraged that my daughter would admire me so much that she'd want to dress up as... Me!) Oh, Israel! How sweet!

Israel: (looking slightly confused) Well, I want to be a mommy so that I can scare everyone!

Me: (hearing the record needle slide off the record) Um... (then me, Zae, and Zeke are doubled over in laughter as I simultaneously try to salvage some of my ego...) Are you implying that mommies are scary?

Israel: (eyes watering up, more confused than ever, wondering what in the world is so funny) What?

This is when it suddenly occurs to me, mummy, not mommy! Oh, goodness! I stifle the giggles momentarily to explain, wait for her to catch on, her smile slowly graces her lips, and then, oh the grace in being able to laugh at ourselves.

That the Lord would bless me with more and more of these merciful moments in which I get a glimpse of just how inflated my ego really is!

A mommy... so I can scare everyone. Really.

Untitled

Somewhere in the recesses of my brain, I recall a poem, In Flanders Fields. These tidbits that got stored in a cortical lobe sometime in the last 37 years, tidbits that mental fingers flip through looking for appropriate tab to match with in-this-moment-experience. How we set out on these small adventures with only vague ideas, varying schemas, of what's ahead. Six of us putting in our two cents. Anticipation rising.


We're in Chievres, Belgium, this weekend. Our Bitburg Barons won victoriously over the SHAPE Spartans in the football game yesterday.


Flanders Fields... I doubt my children have ever heard of Flanders Fields before. Together we'll set out today. I'm filled with questions. Questions I'll ask out loud to young ones who I hope will join me in the wondering about...


We'll visit the In Flanders Fields Museum in Ypres (pronounced Ee-pree). I hope to fill in more on the page of that file... To pique my children's curiosity...


I can still hear the words -- as if it were yesterday -- of a dear friend and mentor, (Penny K.), "Expose your children to as many different experiences as you can..."


Good idea.


Wrapped in His grace...