It's the way he moves the potted tulips to the sunlight during the day.
It's the way he wipes down the counter.
It's the way he always cooks my fried egg a little longer.
It's the way he holds my hand when we pray.
It's the way he kisses me when we're done praying.
It's the way he opens the door for me. Everytime.
It's the way he meticulously dries the dishes.
It's the way he makes the bed because he knows I feel better when it's made.
It's the way he closes the shower curtain because, as silly as it may seem to anyone else, he knows it matters to me.
It's the way he takes out the garbage. Every week.
It's the way he dances a little bit after the first bite at dinner.
It's the way he greets me when I walk through the door.
It's the way he loves people. Without reservation, without pretense, without agenda.
It's all these little things and it's all these big things and it's things that can't be put into words and it's things that aren't even things at all. This man has captured my heart.
May I never take this gift for granted.
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April 17, 2012
April 14, 2012
Independence
I'm fairly independent. I've always been quite independent.
I just spent the last few days exploring the Oakland/San Francisco area on my own. Part of me loves the independent, jet-setting lifestyle of the young professional. I love the adventure of exploring a new place. Nerdy though it may be, I love figuring out new airports and highway systems. I love that feeling of accomplishment.
And yet, while I love exploring and travelling and discovering new places, I'm learning quickly that - even though I can - it is not as fun to do it alone. This weekend, I saw the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time. As incredible and awe-inspiring as it was, all I wanted was to share it with Cole. To pull at his hand in excitement and marvel, "Look at that, Babe! Let's walk it together! How long do you think it is? What do you think it was like while they were building it? Look at the way the fog nests beneath it... Oh man, this is cool!" Instead, I drank it in alone, memorizing the details to recount to him later. Not the same.
If I consider myself independent, I suppose the opposite would be 'dependent.' Not that I am dependent upon Cole, but after nearly two years of marriage, I have gotten to a point of feeling somewhat incomplete without him. I suppose part of me has always craved dependence. We are created for dependence.
On one hand, my pride tells me that I can do it all as long as I work hard, try hard, and use my head. The thrill of "going it alone" and succeeding can be exhilarating. Independently, I'll be just fine. As it turns out, the moment that I begin to believe that, I'm in trouble. You see, this thinking extends far beyond checking my luggage, getting the keys to my rental car, and flying down I-680. This "I-can-do-it-on-my-own" mentality has a tendency to encroach upon my faith.
How easily I fall into the trap that I can, singlehandedly, earn my salvation. How often I must be reminded that there is, indeed, nothing good in me; and it is only because of what He's done that I can live. In a society that so values the independent, the autonomous, the liberated, may we proudly stand as dependent. Dependent upon the only One who gives life. Dependent upon the only One in whom hope is found.
In other news, I can't wait to get home and kiss that husband of mine!!
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I just spent the last few days exploring the Oakland/San Francisco area on my own. Part of me loves the independent, jet-setting lifestyle of the young professional. I love the adventure of exploring a new place. Nerdy though it may be, I love figuring out new airports and highway systems. I love that feeling of accomplishment.
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If I consider myself independent, I suppose the opposite would be 'dependent.' Not that I am dependent upon Cole, but after nearly two years of marriage, I have gotten to a point of feeling somewhat incomplete without him. I suppose part of me has always craved dependence. We are created for dependence.
On one hand, my pride tells me that I can do it all as long as I work hard, try hard, and use my head. The thrill of "going it alone" and succeeding can be exhilarating. Independently, I'll be just fine. As it turns out, the moment that I begin to believe that, I'm in trouble. You see, this thinking extends far beyond checking my luggage, getting the keys to my rental car, and flying down I-680. This "I-can-do-it-on-my-own" mentality has a tendency to encroach upon my faith.
How easily I fall into the trap that I can, singlehandedly, earn my salvation. How often I must be reminded that there is, indeed, nothing good in me; and it is only because of what He's done that I can live. In a society that so values the independent, the autonomous, the liberated, may we proudly stand as dependent. Dependent upon the only One who gives life. Dependent upon the only One in whom hope is found.
Dependent.
In other news, I can't wait to get home and kiss that husband of mine!!
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April 11, 2012
Family
I know that I've said it many, many times in this space. And, I'll say it again. I am utterly overwhelmed at the way that we have been blessed with the gift of family. Immediate, extended, in-laws, and out-laws, we are exceedingly blessed.
The month of March worked extremely hard to set itself up as the favorite month of 2012. While the remaining 9 months of the year are bound to hold lots of excitement, March will be a tough act to follow. For all throughout March, we ate and drank and inhaled and exhaled family. Our weeks were book-ended with new sets of arms to hug, new stories to tell, and new memories to make.
March entered, bringing with it my big brother and his wife. We reveled in the pizza-making, the story-telling, the card-playing, the being. My brother was my very first best friend, so it is a gift, indeed, to share this married-in-grad-school-without-kids stage of life with him. We talked and laughed and felt no shame at calling it a night at a measly 10:30pm. (Our younger selves would be incredulous.)
The next weekend signaled the beginning of SisterWeekend2012. Words upon words have already been spilled over that weekend. What a wonderful, wonderful time it was.
The weekend that followed found us venturing back to Cole's hometown to drink afresh that sweet 9-month-old niece smell. The weather was absolutely perfect, and sometime on Sunday afternoon, time stood still. The sun was out, there was baseball on, sweet spring air wafted through the house, and we were together. All 8 of us. And, for a moment, all was right with the world. If only moments like that were catch-able, bottle-able, and sell-able. I'd be a millionaire. Weekends like that make my heart beat with anticipation to return there, make a home there, and have weekly Sunday barbecues after church there.
March made its grand exit with a visit from my parents. My parents: fountains of knowledge, wisdom, generosity, love, and a fierce competitive streak. Seriously. Among 3 hour lunch dates, homemade pizza nights, shopping trips, and eye exams, we had the grandest of times. They mercilessly cleaned our clocks at nearly every card game we played, and left us with an uncontrollable excitement for the next time we'll be together.
In typical fashion, I wasn't ready for the fun to end, simply because the month of March did. So, this second week in April came carrying my mother-in-law. I don't care what you say about mothers-in-law, my mother-in-law is totally awesomer than your mother-in-law. (That is, unless you happen to be Carrie or Kelly Marie, duh. In that case, we'll just call it a draw.) She showed up Monday night - just in time to talk politics, catch up on family goings-on, and lose at Settlers. Then, Tuesday, I came home from work to find candles lit about the house, the kitchen cleaned, and dinner on the stove. On a weeknight, there are few gifts greater than that. We spent our last evening together talking and playing endless games of Settlers. Our time with her was too short, but oh-so-sweet.
March was a treasure that has stretched into April. It's been the perfect medicine to keep homesickness at bay and to refresh the heart. What outrageous Grace.
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The month of March worked extremely hard to set itself up as the favorite month of 2012. While the remaining 9 months of the year are bound to hold lots of excitement, March will be a tough act to follow. For all throughout March, we ate and drank and inhaled and exhaled family. Our weeks were book-ended with new sets of arms to hug, new stories to tell, and new memories to make.
March entered, bringing with it my big brother and his wife. We reveled in the pizza-making, the story-telling, the card-playing, the being. My brother was my very first best friend, so it is a gift, indeed, to share this married-in-grad-school-without-kids stage of life with him. We talked and laughed and felt no shame at calling it a night at a measly 10:30pm. (Our younger selves would be incredulous.)
The next weekend signaled the beginning of SisterWeekend2012. Words upon words have already been spilled over that weekend. What a wonderful, wonderful time it was.
The weekend that followed found us venturing back to Cole's hometown to drink afresh that sweet 9-month-old niece smell. The weather was absolutely perfect, and sometime on Sunday afternoon, time stood still. The sun was out, there was baseball on, sweet spring air wafted through the house, and we were together. All 8 of us. And, for a moment, all was right with the world. If only moments like that were catch-able, bottle-able, and sell-able. I'd be a millionaire. Weekends like that make my heart beat with anticipation to return there, make a home there, and have weekly Sunday barbecues after church there.
In typical fashion, I wasn't ready for the fun to end, simply because the month of March did. So, this second week in April came carrying my mother-in-law. I don't care what you say about mothers-in-law, my mother-in-law is totally awesomer than your mother-in-law. (That is, unless you happen to be Carrie or Kelly Marie, duh. In that case, we'll just call it a draw.) She showed up Monday night - just in time to talk politics, catch up on family goings-on, and lose at Settlers. Then, Tuesday, I came home from work to find candles lit about the house, the kitchen cleaned, and dinner on the stove. On a weeknight, there are few gifts greater than that. We spent our last evening together talking and playing endless games of Settlers. Our time with her was too short, but oh-so-sweet.
March was a treasure that has stretched into April. It's been the perfect medicine to keep homesickness at bay and to refresh the heart. What outrageous Grace.
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April 8, 2012
Bucket List
If you've spent much time around this blog, you know that, being in grad school, our current living situation is temporary. In other words, we have an expiration date. In just over a year, we'll be packing up and moving. Most days, it is hard to believe that we're nearly 2/3 of the way through our time here. And 'here' is actually a pretty great place to be.
Before we moved down, (knowing that our time would be limited) we made a list of things that we wanted to make sure we did/saw/experienced before we left, making the most of our time here. So, as promised, here is our "Things To Do Before We Leave Forest Grove," or The Portland Bucket List.
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Before we moved down, (knowing that our time would be limited) we made a list of things that we wanted to make sure we did/saw/experienced before we left, making the most of our time here. So, as promised, here is our "Things To Do Before We Leave Forest Grove," or The Portland Bucket List.
Visit the Tillamook Cheese Factory- done 1/7-1/8/12Go to Tree-to-Tree Adventure Park- done 8/4/12Do an Oregon Wine Tour/Tasting- done 1/8/12Go to Roloff Farms- done 10/15/11Visit Oregon Zoo ChristmasLights- done 12/9/11- Visit the Newport Aquarium
- Visit The Grotto at Christmastime
- Graduate OD School
- Run the Portland Marathon
Attend a Blazer’s Game- done 3/3/12Attend a Timber’s Game- done 8/5/12Voodoo Donuts- done 8/5/12Visit the Rose Gardens- done 8/4/12
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