Lessons from a Newlywed

Holy moly.  It's February 2015.  That means it's one year since February 2014.  12 whole months since the day my husband and I stood in front of some 200 of our closest family and friends and promised ourselves to one another for the rest of our days on earth.

Holy.  Moly.

A whole year has gone by...and yet, only a year...

(Photo (c) Ziegler Photography)

There are so many lessons I'm only beginning to learn as a wife.  This last year has been the best year of my life so far.  Learning to navigate the waters of marriage with my best friend has been an incredible journey full of so many wonderful moments and experiences, and I know it's only just beginning.

Having said that, let me also just be really blunt and terribly transparent with you:  this last year has been the toughest of my life.  There, I said it.

The thing about tough, though, is that tough isn't bad; tough is just tough.  All of the tough in the last year has brought me to some pretty intense learning points.  So many times I've thought, "Man, I wish I had known this before I got married."  Honestly, I went through a little season of bitterness.  I thought, "Why didn't anyone tell me this about marriage?"  Well, I'm sure plenty of people did tell me.  And I'm sure I was probably so head-over-heels-I'm-wearing-rose-colored-glasses-for-the-rest-of-my-life in love that I thought it didn't apply to me or to our marriage.  I've come to understand, though, that some things you can't learn from someone else.  Some things, particularly some marriage things, you can only learn by going through them.

So, I'm going to share with you 4 things I've been learning about marriage.  Are you ready?  Brace yourself.  Things are about to get personal.

4 Marriage Lessons from a Newlywed

1.  Marriage doesn't fix you.

Contrary to my expectations, my insecurities did not magically disappear with the vocalization of "I do."  The struggles and body image issues I faced before I got married still exist as a married woman.  My short temper, impatience, and struggle with perfectionism are all still present.  Husband may be my other half, and we may complement each other really well, but he is not my savior.  He's not my creator, sustainer, author, perfecter--none of that.  As incredible as he is, he is still only human.  Our marriage, seeing as how it's comprised of two humans, can in no way fill the holes left by sin; only Jesus can do that.  Sometimes it's hard to remember to put Jesus before husband.  But I'm learning that the times I seek husband above the Lord, when I seek him for things he can't give, I place our marriage on shifting sands.  I think at some level, I really wanted marriage to be like a bandaid.  I wanted it to cover up my flaws and insecurities, not just cover them up, but also make them mysteriously disappear.  That has not been my story though.  In fact, marriage has been much more of a refining agent, bringing out more of my flaws and insecurities than I really care to admit.  The beautiful thing about refining is that the impurities are worked out.  Notice I said WORKED out.  Not erased.  Not covered up.  Not swept to the side.  They're brought to light and then worked out by the Refiner.  So, while I may feel ugly and tarnished at some points, I know that those flaws are being dealt with and fixed, not by husband, but by Creator.


2. It's okay to walk away.

Walking away in the middle of an argument--or even a conversation that's heading that direction--does NOT mean you're walking away from your marriage.  Repeat: walking away from a battle with your spouse does not mean that your marriage is doomed.  Likewise, if (more like 'when') husband says he needs space and can't discuss the current issue at the moment, it doesn't mean that he's leaving me.  It doesn't mean he's separating himself emotionally from me or giving up on our marriage.  (Oh, how dramatic that first year can feel!)  Sometimes, we just need space and time.  Space to breathe.  Time to think, pray, diffuse.  I love that my husband is committed to keeping peace in our house and, therefore, often walks away when I'm looking to fight.  It can sure be frustrating in the moment sometimes, but I so respect his desire and follow-through when it comes to choosing his words, tone, and volume wisely.


3.  Because it's tough doesn't mean you're bad at marriage.

Sometimes we fight.  There, I said it.  No newly married couple ever wants to admit that there may have been harsh words thrown around at unpleasant decibels, lest it be perceived that there is trouble in paradise.  But the fact of the matter is that marriage is a convergence of two people--two independent, free-willed, autonomous individuals.  Two individuals that have individual thoughts, opinions, ideas, jobs, goals, ways of communicating, friends, past experiences, pains, likes, dislikes, hobbies, interests, credit cards, decorating taste, bills...and on and on it goes.  Those two people say "I do," and go from separate everything to separate nothing.  OF COURSE THERE'S GOING TO BE CONFLICT!  It's natural to experience tension at some point in any relationship with another human being.  My sister and I used to fight growing up, and even as adults when we lived together.  Does that mean we shouldn't be sisters? Of course not.  That's a ridiculous thought.  Just as ridiculous is the thought that since I get angry and pick a fight (not condoning this behavior, just confessing!) that I'm not cut out for marriage.  Or because husband and I disagree on a subject that each of us feels passionately about means I married the wrong person.  RIDICULOUS.  These are lies that are so easy to believe and so toxic to both individuals and the marriage covenant.  It will be tough.  There will be conflict.  It's how you handle the conflict and what you do in the midst of the tough that is most important.


4.  Marriage isn't about me.

I think this is the biggest lesson of all.  And I KNOW so many people told me this one.  I just don't think I was really able to wrap my mind or heart around it at the time.  Y'all.  MARRIAGE ISN'T ABOUT ME.  It's not about Trevor and Jess.  It's not about our dreams, our goals, our future family (way, way in the future), our hobbies, or our successes.  Marriage is about Jesus.  It's about the unending love, hope, mercy, grace, friendship, and redemption offered only through Jesus.  The moments in which our marriage is strong and grace is evident point to Jesus, since He's the One to enable us to be strong and to give grace.  The moments in which our marriage is impatient and unforgiving also point to Jesus, as only through Him are we able to become patient and extend forgiveness.  Marriage is such a unique gift and opportunity, not to become experts in an earthly endeavor, but to become more like Christ and point those around us toward Him as well.


These lessons have been a long time coming for me.  I've sat down several times to try and articulate my thoughts and my heart on these matters.  Still, I've rambled, I know.  My apologies.

Maybe you're a newlywed just starting out, or maybe you've been married for 30 years already.  Perhaps you're single and want nothing to do with marriage; or, quite the opposite--you're single and would rather not be.  Whatever your current situation may be, I do hope that there's something useful or comforting--or even humorous--about reading these lessons from a humble newlywed.  I'm only just beginning to learn, but I'm so eager to share my experiences--successes and not-so-successes--in hopes of encouraging others.

Be blessed, friends.

My First Monday at 29 + An Attitude Shift

Well, it's my birthday.  And I feel like that means I should probably blog or something.

To be honest, it hasn't been the greatest day.  What I'm about to tell you is in no way intended to bring about pity or sympathy, but rather to provide a dose of realism and maybe a chuckle or two.

So, let's recap this first day of 29...

-It's a Monday.  Enough said.
-There's a crazy weather situation happening here.  Like cold front meets warm front meets cold front again.  Crazy weather situations mean crazy sinus situations.  Bleh.
-I woke up with a HUGE zit on my forehead.  I wish I was being dramatic.  I've had an ice pack on my face for a good portion of the afternoon.  It would seem that my body has gotten confused about my age and thinks that somehow I need to experience symptoms of adolescence randomly.  Note to body:  I do NOT need those experiences.  
-I came home from work sick.  I'll spare you the details.  As much as I value transparency, some details are still just too much to share.
-Right now, I'm supposed to be at an Army FRG meeting. Not the most idyllic place to spend my birthday evening, but given the choice between being sick and attending an FRG meeting, I'd still choose the FRG.
-Since I'm not at the FRG meeting, that means I'm home alone.  Just because I stayed home sick doesn't mean husband does.  Boo.
-In the midst of me feeling sorry for myself, my dog decided to get sick. Multiple times.  All over the laundry room floor, starting in his kennel first (which he went into by choice, strangely enough).  Poor guy.

I'm frustrated, tired, emotional, and ready for the day to be over.  At multiple points today, I've let myself throw a pity party.  It's been really easy to see the negatives today, to feel overwhelmed and moody.  In the midst of the unpleasantness today, I've been reminded of a couple of valuable truths:

     1.  God is good.
            No matter what.  Period.  End of story.  Even when I don't feel like He is good, He is still good.  He still loves me, pursues me, protects me, provides for me... He is good.

     2.  Things could be so much worse.
            I'm not even going to begin listing the things that comprise the "so much worse" list.

     3.  It's not about me.
            When things don't go my way--particularly personal things like sick days, gargantuan zits, and barfy dogs--it's not necessarily an attack on me personally.  Maybe there was something I would've stood in the way of at work this afternoon.  Maybe I needed a reminder that my flesh isn't my identity or my worth.  Maybe the Lord needed to get me home alone to remind me of His goodness.  Maybe I needed a less-than-stellar day so that all of the friends and family that have showered me with birthday wishes today would be so much more obvious and meaningful to me.  Maybe there's something that the Lord is doing that's bigger and greater than my human eyes can see.  Maybe my birthday shouldn't really be about me, the receiver of life, but rather should serve as an opportunity to recognize the Giver of life.

These three truths tie perfectly together and, if I let them, cause a change of attitude from grief to gratitude.  If I let them.  I have to choose what I focus on.  I have to choose my perspective, which in turn, affects my attitude.

Tonight, I'm choosing to let Truth change my attitude.  Maybe you had a similar Monday.  Or maybe your situation is more like a string of similar Mondays all put together.  And maybe, like me, you just needed a reminder of a few positive truths.  Will you choose to let them--to let Him--change your attitude?

Be encouraged, friend.  There's still hope.  God is still good.

A year in TN + Faithfulness

As of today, it's been exactly one year since I moved to Tennessee.  (Sometimes it feels like I've lived here my whole life, but other times it seems like I'm still settling in.)  Regardless, it's be a whole year.  That's one year since I took the biggest leap I could've imagined.  One year since I left two perfectly good jobs, a comfortable home, an ideal roommate, many close friends, my family, my church family, my favorite coffee shops and shopping stops, and basically everything else familiar.  I left it with no exact knowledge or outline of how things would unfold.  I left for a place where I knew no one--literally, I knew NO ONE since my husband-to-be hadn't even moved to town yet.  I had no job, no prospect of a job, no church home, no friends, no safety net, no clearly defined plan or map to follow...

And look where I am now.

I'm married to a man I couldn't have even dreamed into reality.  I have a great job teaching middle school students.  We belong to a really passionate, inviting, Gospel-sharing church.  I'm making friends.  I know my way around town, or at least to the important places:  Panera, Target, Food Lion, a natural foods store, and Nashville.

My point is this:  God is faithful, and in His faithfulness He is good.

This morning, I was reading Philippians 4.  One verse in particular nearly jumped off the page at me:

"My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory."  Philippians 4:19

Today, of all days, I feel like I am only beginning to learn to trust the Lord.  I've been walking with Him  (or doing my best anyway) for as long as I can remember, yet trust still doesn't always--or even usually--come naturally.  I forget that He is faithful; I forget that He is good.

But He is faithful.  He is good.

I would be lying if I said the last year has been a breeze.  There have been plenty of curves and bumps in the road.  There have been plenty of times when I've shaken my head and thrown a fit out of frustration, out of lack of understanding, out of lack of a plan.  But the truth is that there has been a plan all along.  The Lord has always had a plan; He's always known.

And He still knows.  It's all still unfolding and it's all being held in His hand.  That's such a great reason to trust.  Such a great comfort, such a deep sigh of relief, such a strong spring board for moving forward and trusting for the next step, whatever that may be.

Much is on my heart.  Tomorrow, school starts, and with that comes a whole bunch of new.  New students, new subjects, new lessons, new routines.  Sometime, my husband will deploy.  I'm not sure I really even know how to organize that in my heart/head yet, but it will come eventually.  There are plenty of unknowns, plenty of reasons to freak out.  But there are also plenty of reasons to trust, the best being that He is faithful.  I'm looking back on the last year in gratitude, humbled by the realization that the Lord still hasn't given up on me, but rather, He continually chooses to supply my need, according to His riches and His love and His grace, not mine.  So I will continue to learn to trust, more fully and more freely.

Here's to the next year, whatever the plan and the Planner holds.

We're ENGAGED!

We got engaged this weekend.  And I’m really excited.  And I absolutely cannot wait to spill the details of our proposal.  So, without any further ado…

So, we’re in the process of buying a house.  We found an incredible opportunity to jump in on this house in the middle of the construction process, so we dove right in.  The house sits on a beautiful piece of land backing up to a creek.  We’ve spent the last few weeks planning and preparing and selecting paint colors and really just getting super excited about living in our first home together.  Throughout the process, Trevor has assured me that our engagement would not happen until after we closed on the house.  Financial advisors had recommended not making any major purchases prior to the closing, thus, the bling would have to wait. 

And the joke’s on me.  While that may be substantial advice, it wasn’t relevant in our situation and Trevor, unbeknownst to me, took matters into his own hands entirely.  He bought the ring and made the plans, coordinating details with my sister along the way.  She came to town to visit this week, which was timely, no doubt. 

Friday we had planned to take my sister out and show her the house, then head to Nashville for an evening of music out on the town.  All day my sis had emphasized that she really wanted to see the house in the daylight so that she could take some photos to show our parents.  Little did I know…

We gave the house tour, starting in the basement and working our way upstairs.  As I was taking my sis through the master bedroom—relaying closet organization plans and whatnot—Trevor excused himself.  After much prodding from my sister,—“I’m really hungry.  It’s getting dark.  Let’s go to Nashville.”—I finally wrapped up the tour and headed back to the living room.  We rounded the corner to find Trev down on his knee in front of the fireplace. 

I wish I could say that I handled myself with grace and eloquence in the succeeding moments.  But, I can’t. 

Shock immediately took over and my brain turned to mush.

Turning around to my sister, who by now had her camera out and flashing away, I exclaimed, “This is not happening!  Is this happening?!”  Once she assured me this was, in fact, reality, I did the only natural thing I could think of:  I got down on one knee in front of my man.

Wait… What?!

Yep, like I said…grace, folks.  Oy.

Thankfully, I didn’t stay on my knee for more than a split second before I realized how absolutely absurdly I was behaving.  The next several moments—on my feet—were filled with squeals and gasps and utterances of disbelief.  I think it was probably a solid four minutes before the poor guy even got an opportunity to talk.  (Welcome to the rest of your life, Baby.)

Eventually, I shut up, opened my eyes, and let him talk.  Of course he said sweet things, proclaiming his love and asking for my hand.  I’ll keep the specifics between us; it’s so precious.  And eventually, I responded with a resounding, “YES!”  And eventually he got the ring on my finger. 

And eventually I’ll stop gawking at it…maybe… Actually, probably not. 

Seriously, I have the absolute best fiancé.  He picked out the most stunning ring.  And he planned the perfect proposal.  And he completely and utterly surprised me in the best of ways.  I love that we got to share this part of our story in what will be our first home together.  I absolutely cannot wait to build our life together.  Trevor is, next to my salvation, the greatest gift the Lord has given me.  I don’t even know how to say it any more accurately or emphatically.  I’m completely and totally excited about what the Lord has planned for our lives together. 

So, there you have it.  That is our engagement story.  Hopefully you get a big smile out of it, maybe even a giggle or two.  (I laugh every time I think about it.)  Thanks for reading and thanks for sharing in our journey.

Blessings, friends!

cupcakes with a dash of hope

Today, I baked cupcakes.

Yesterday, I ran...both cardiovascularly and in the errand sense.

But today, I baked cupcakes.  From scratch.  With a stick and a half of butter.

And I licked the batter off of anything and everything that even had a drip of batter on it.  And I don't even feel remotely guilty about it.  Thank you, Martha, for this divine cupcake recipe.  It's so simple, but seriously, it's the best cupcake batter I've ever tasted.  The cupcakes aren't even done yet and I don't care; I'm completely satisfied with the batter alone.

Lately I've had lists galore.  A to-do list for the week, a to-do list for the day, a store list, a job list, a workout list, a meal-planning list, a coupon-searching list.  The only thing lacking is a list of my lists.  No joke.  Sometimes lists can be counterproductive and totally suck the life out of me, robbing me of my joy.  So today, I badly needed a break from all that my lists had to offer.  Alas, in true Type-A form, I couldn't completely steer clear of the list, so I added to it:  bake cupcakes.  On Friday, I will take said cupcakes to my nanny job and turn them into delightful spider leg cupcakes with the little Miss I watch.  I'm sure it will be fun.

I promise this isn't really a post dedicated solely to baking cupcakes.  But it is about what baking cupcakes--and the smell of the cupcakes drifting through my apartment currently--does for my soul.  Sometimes it really is the little things that make a big difference.

In the last few weeks, I've gotten back into more of a regular quiet time routine.  Several months ago, I started journeying through the Gospels, and yesterday I started John.  A new devotional book that a friend gave me has had me rummaging around all throughout the OT and NT, which I've really loved.  There's something about digging in and getting my hands dirty in the soil of the Word that really does restore energy and life and hope.

Today I read about hope.  My devotional took me back through the stories of Ruth and Abraham, then ended with a passage in Romans 5.  This is what hit me so hard.  Check it:

"Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.  And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope.  Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us."  

Romans 5:1-5

What struck me most today was the last verse:  "Now hope does not disappoint..."

As humans, we're so privy to using phrases like, "I've got my fingers crossed," or "I don't want to get my hopes up."  But why are we so leery of hope?  Of really letting go and believing in confidence?  In reality, the reason we have hope is because of God's love.  And His love for us has already been settled and proved, once and for all.  Therefore, there's no way that hope can disappoint, not if hope is found in Him.  There's really no reason to not get our hopes up, since He is the source of hope.  And so this renewal of hope in my heart brought with it a renewed joy.  Finding joy in the little things makes life so much richer and fuller and it makes me so much more effective as a minister, girlfriend, sister, daughter, friend, etc.

Okay, so I keep trying to draw some deeply spiritual parallel between baking cupcakes and living in hope, but I'm not really coming up with anything.  The bottom line for this post, my thesis, if you will is this:  I love baking and the Lord is so good to give me a hope and a joy that allows me to enjoy even the little things in life.

I hope you'll be encouraged and find hope today.

If I could bring you freshly baked cupcakes, I would.  Just so you know. ;)

A Reaction To Thunder

I’ve had so many thoughts tumbling around my noggin’ lately, yet somehow, I’ve managed to articulate next to zero of them.  It seems that my incessant list making has robbed my brain of nearly every creative cell.  Oy ve.

However, the creativity has somewhat revived through a couple of different events: 
=Helping Trevor house hunt
-Taking on a nanny role

Both of these happenings have revived a part of my heart that had been asleep for quite sometime.  Assisting in the house hunting process resuscitated my love for construction and design.  Yep, the paint samples, carpet swatches, fresh drywall, and unplumbed model homes really do inspire me.  Call me crazy, but the blank canvas of an unfinished home provides an ample amount of creative fuel for me.  

Also, taking care of a little person (a two year old doll, who shall remain nameless out of respect and protection) has already proved to be a source of reflection and introspection, along with satisfying my heart of investing in and teaching others.  

Today I found myself rather overwhelmed at the amount of tasks I needed to accomplish during naptime.  And it rained--actually stormed--in Cville.  For the first time in ages.  Conveniently, during naptime.  Consequently, my stress level elevated with every clap of thunder and the increasing sounds of whimpering coming from the front bedroom.  Pay bills.  Cancel satellite in Spfd house.  Find a new bank.  Transfer insurance policy.  Finish substitute application.  Call Mom.  Write bios for Women’s Retreat.  The list goes on…

Yet, at the first cry from the wee one—I’ll call her ‘Little Miss’—I was crib side, back patting, voice soothing.  And I had no idea what had taken over.  Instinct?  Perhaps.  The thunder ceased momentarily and the whimpers subsided, so back to the crib it was…only to be repeat the cycle twice more over the course of the next twenty minutes.  And so I wound up in the rocker, two-year-old gripping tightly, snuggling to sleep.  All I could think about was the Father’s love.

Only moments before, Little Miss cried from the crib, “Ganger!  Ganger!  Ganger!”  (Translation:  “Thunder!  Thunder!  Thunder!”)  Yet, now she clung tightly, securely, calmly to me and slept peacefully.

And I thought about how often I do the same.  I freak at the sign of the storm, the threatening sounds of thunder.  I panic at the lack of employment, the insufficient funds, the unresolved stressors.  But all I really need is to trust in the arms of Love—to find the place, the Giver, of peace.  And rest.  Rest.    

My, how I struggle with that.  I knew going into this whole life-turned-upside-down-transition mode would be tough.  Among the uncertainties, that was one thing the Lord made clear.  I didn’t, however, anticipate the ways that this would be tough.  So far, the toughest part is the trusting part.  It’s trusting in the midst of the thunder and the rain and the low visibility—that’s the challenge.  But that’s also the reward:  trusting and resting in those arms.

So, what’s my reaction to thunder?  Is it to cry and fear?  Or is it to take advantage of the storm as an opportunity to draw near, to find comfort, to find rest?

What’s your reaction to thunder?

Be blessed, friends.  And find rest.  

Tennessee Adventure: Day 4

So I've lived in Tennessee for a whole four days now.  Whoa.  And I decided that I should probably blog about it.  It seems that, once again, I'm overdue for a blogpost.  This time, I decided to go for a vlog.  Check it out and let me know whatcha think.  :)

(Disclaimer:  I am TERRIBLE at walking whilst carrying my laptop and trying to film.  If you become motion sick easily, be forewarned that this video may induce such illnesses.  Oops..)

So, the video is pretty light-hearted and silly, I know.  But on a deeper level, I wanted to share a few reminders that have been game-changers for me these last few days.  I've fought pity-parties, self-doubt, fear, sadness, frustration, anger, etc.  But that's not where I long to dwell.  Maybe these few reminders can help encourage you, just as they've encouraged me:

1.  Tough isn't bad, tough is just tough.  I repeat:  tough isn't bad, though is just tough.  Say it with me...

2.  His grace is sufficient.  Even when antibiotics aren't.  Even when all I really want is a hug from my momma.  His grace is enough.

3.  Be brave.  It's okay to step out in faith and then mess up.  Nothing says (including  my Creator) that I have to be perfect at this whole moving-to-a-new-state-getting-a-new-job-and-making-new-friends business.  Whew.  That's a relief.  Because I don't have to be perfect means that I can be brave.

4.  He does have a plan.  It may not be my plan and it may not happen in my timing.  But He does have a plan.  I can trust that.

5.  People are just people.  Why did I think that people would be ogres in Tennessee?  They're really no different than MO...other than the accents and extra-poofy hair.  Oh, and the fried food!  Do you know how difficult it was to find unbreaded ANYthing in the freezer section at the grocery store?!  Yikes.

6.  God is in control.  He hasn't brought me here to fall on my face, and if He has, then it's going to be for His glory.  But, really, what are the odds that He's really going to bring me to a point of total trust and then abandon me entirely?  Yeah, not likely even in the least.  He's too good for that.

And, so, there ya have it: a little bit of depth from this scattered brain/heart.  Thanks for reading.  Oh!  And thanks for watching my vlog.  :)


Be encouraged, friends.