July 24, 2014


I have ten minutes left in the morning before I have to dash out the door and head to work. He’s sitting on the couch reading a commentary (probably on Romans), his empty cereal bowl rests on the coffee table in front of him and the fresh scent of his cologne hangs in the air. I could empty the dishwasher or double check my inbox one more time or fold that last bit of laundry; but, instead, I find that open spot next to him on the couch and settle in. His hand finds mine and he tells me about how he’s been praying for me and how he’s so glad he married me and all I feel is wonder.  Wonder and gratitude. What outrageous Grace is this that I can call him mine. 

In what very little I know of marriage, having only lived it for four years thus far, it seems that marriages often go through seasons of change. For us, there have been seasons of inexplicable conflict, quick criticism, irritability, and general frustration. (Most often due to my selfishness) And there have been seasons of equally inexplicable peace and oneness, ridiculous fun and laughter, passionate love, and sweet, sweet friendship…  Most of the time this whole thing is really easy, and sometimes it is really hard and always it is really, really worth it.

I know a time will come when other distractions - in the form of heavier workloads, busier schedules or perhaps even diapers - will plunge us into new seasons of spread-thinness and exhaustion and leave little time for quiet mornings on the couch holding hands. So today, I am thankful for this season. For the respite and the shoring up of resources and the mysterious oneness that marriage brings. For the man whose hand I hold and whose prayers I hear whispered in the early mornings and whose warmth I find in the late nights. I’m thankful for the Grace that holds us together on the days when everything else seems to be trying to tear us apart. And I am so, so thankful that I am his.

July 17, 2014


Two months ago today, my husband walked up the steps and across the Pacific-black-and-red platform to accept his diploma and doctoral hood.  It was a hot, humid day in May when, surrounded by my family and his, I watched my husband finish his journey as a student and step into his new role as Doctor. (I only cried a little) Four years, three major Boards exams, four different preceptorships, and countless hours upon hours of studying later… we’re done. This post has surely been a long time coming, but – as it is wont to do – life inevitably hit “fast-forward” the moment he crossed the platform. And here we are, two months later.

Dr. Cole Boboth. I could not be more proud. “Proud” even seems the wrong word. I suppose it would be more accurate to say that I could not be more honored. I feel so honored to have been the one chosen to stand on the sidelines of this journey of his, cheering him on and watching him excel and grow into one incredible doctor.  Guys, can I just tell you about my husband for a second?

Here’s the deal: Optometry school ain’t no joke. It’s four intense years of studying, dilating, refracting, studying, testing, and studying and studying and studying. It’s a lot of material and a lot of work; and it takes a lot of time. And you know what? He’s done. We’re done. And through it all, Cole maintained the most incredible attitude and balanced his roles as husband and student with amazing grace.

It certainly was not easy, no. However, in the midst of the late nights and the big tests and the multiple relocations, these four years have been a phenomenal display of God’s faithfulness and grace in our lives.  I want to sit here and spill ALL.THE.WORDS. about how amazing my husband is and how hard he’s worked and how sacrificially he’s loved me and how proud I am to call him mine – but if we’ve learned one thing over these last four years at all, it’s that it was never about Cole in the first place. Granted, Cole worked his hiney off and I am humbled and grateful beyond words at how God has blessed Cole’s hard work; but even then, it’s not about that.

These four years have been so, so sweet and so, so hard.  They have been years of God wrenching from my hands plans that I’ve held too tightly – only to be replaced with plans far better than we could have dreamed up.  They have been years of late nights riddled with anxiety, as God gently put His finger on places in my heart over which I warred for total control. They have been years of discomfort, as we struggled to find our place and establish friendships in a new city – and then, as we had to say goodbye to those friends who had become family. They have been years of selfishness, frustration, and sanctification, and God (oftentimes through my husband) graciously reminded me that all is grace. They have been years of ridiculous laughter and hormonal tears and so many more games of “Four on a Couch” than we can count. They have been the very best four years of my life, spent by the side of my very favorite person. And I am so stinkin’ grateful.

This journey has been so long and so very short. And here we are at its end – a teensy bit travel-weary, a little overwhelmed, and so, so, so very grateful for the way in which we’ve seen God work in our lives through it all.  And now we stand at the beginning of our next adventure – excited for what’s to come and eager to trace the faithfulness of our Father in the journey.

Just Us

We will also remind you that this is just a BLOG…just the highlights. We don’t sit around happily smiling for pictures all day long. Our life is far from perfect: we are imperfect people serving a perfect God. We do strive to glorify God, but we fail miserably and find comfort in knowing that our debts have been paid and we have been set free.

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