Tip of My Tongue

worth it.

2012-01-29T15:40:00.001-05:00

Sneakers, jackets, and hands stuffed into our pockets. Pebbles grinding against the tar beneath our shoes, a crisp breeze combing through our hair, stiff brown leaves picked up by the wind, scrapping against the remainder of last week's snow, the sun shining bright against the blue sky. Soft chatter, giggles, cold noses, and smiles. I didn't have to ask him if he was okay. I didn't have to ask him if he hurt too much. I wasn't pushing him in a chair. His crutches didn't clink with every step. I didn't even notice the slight limp as he walked.

Not long ago, I wondered if we would ever enjoy an afternoon walk through our neighborhood again. I had faith that we would... but sometimes my faith wavered.

Today, we walked. And we kept walking until the end of the road, before turning on our heels and heading back home. We kept a steady pace, and he didn't fall behind. As we rounded the corner and saw our blue house up on the hill, I smiled. As I glanced at the man walking beside me, my heart swelled--he was no longer frail, he was strong; he was no longer broken, he was whole; he didn't watch his feet, he tilted his face towards the sun.

What a different scene from just a few weeks ago... I waned to freeze the moment, capture it with a photograph. I closed my eyes and tried to hold the moment in place and memorize every line, every shape, every scent. As we made it to the top of the driveway, and I headed toward our front door, Eric said my name. "Wait," he said. "Come here."

I stood beside him, facing away from the road, and waited for him to speak. "This is our home," he said looking briefly at the house and then gazing off into the woods. "We live here."

I nodded. "We do."

He turned to face the road. "This is our neighborhood. You don't hear the city, you hear the wind; the air is clean."

He breathed deeply. "You know those moments when the air is just right and it brings back a flood of memories? This is one of those moments... I'll look back and remember this exact moment." He paused. "We are so blessed."

I nodded again, breathed deeply, and once again, tried to savor the moment.

"I hope that when we settle down, we live in a place like this." It made me smile. "Me too," I smiled and stepped into his arms.

We can dream again. We can walk together again... and the future looks so beautiful and bright.

Although the mountain we've been climbing certainly isn't small, I can't sit around worrying about what I can't change. Because time flies by too fast, and if I'm not careful, I'll miss it. I'll miss these moments. And time will slip between my fingers. Love, this crazy love, is all that matters...

And its only time
But it flies right by
And today is sweeter than we know

And we want to stay right here
For a hundred more years

drifting.

2012-01-21T14:49:00.000-05:00

It's hard to stand on shifting sand. It's hard to shine in the rain. It's hard to pray when you feel like your prayers are bouncing off the sky; when you feel they can't penetrate the horizon and meet the heart of God. It hard for a heart to swell with faith and hope in the face of heartache.

But regardless, we are called to praise the One who is worthy of praise regardless of circumstance. It's easy to lift our hands in praise when things are going well, it's a whole different story to praise Him in the storm. So we put on crooked smiles to keep up appearances and convince the crowd that the sun is still shining, when in our hearts, we are walking on splintered glass.

There's no such thing as perfect people. Why then, do we all feel required to put on a mask to face the day? We convince ourselves that since we've suffered our share, that life will become kinder. But sometimes, the sun stays hidden for years. What then? Shall we keep up appearances for years on end to ensure the rest of society remains convinced of our happiness?

What if... we were honest. What if... we were emotionally naked. What if... we stripped off the lies. What if... we took off our masks.

What if we came broken, wounded, and scarred through the church doors and came as we are. Pretending the brokenness isn't there, doesn't make it go away. When you uncover, you discover. When you peel back the layers of your hurt, there is healing. When you allow your imperfections to be something other than mistakes, there is freedom.

As your wounds are exposed, allow them to heal and don't be ashamed of the scars that form. Let them be more that representations of the past. Allow them to be beautiful reminders of the supernatural healing and redemption that occurred in your life. Those small marks will testify of Christ's enduring love and hope for years to come.

We will all stumble. We will all cry. We will all make mistakes, hoard bitterness, face heartache, and drift. We will all drift away from our Creator in our feeble attempt to fix ourselves. To take on the pain.

It's hard to stand on shifting sand... so choose to stand on the Rock. Let hope endure. Let others see what is underneath your skin. When the storm rages all around you, when you're at the end of your rope, when the sky is an ominous gray and you haven't seen the sun in months... stand. Just keep standing... and allow the wounds to heal and form scars that will be a testimony of Christ's abounding love during a time when you were about to throw in the towel and sink into a puddle of tears. Let grace be enough.

On Christ the Solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
I will not be moved

Hallelujah.

2011.

2012-01-03T16:21:00.000-05:00

I'm not sad to see 2011 slip away into the shadows of the past. That's just what it was--an inky, black shadow that seemed to hover without welcome. Sure, there were moments of bliss: new friends, a new niece, conversations over coffee, birthday dinners, and a year of marriage under our belts. But the weight of the tragedies and heartache seemed to overpower the glimmer of goodness that surfaced every so often. Between Eric losing his job, unemployment robbing us, the accident in July, the nightmares that followed my experience in the ER, the surgery, inconsiderate nursing staff, the weeks that rolled into months of recovery, the loneliness that lingered for months as I slept on the couch waiting for him to heal, no power for a week, a broken toilet and washing machine, losing a childhood friend, the reoccurring infection, the exhaustion, my car kicking the dust, family trauma, another surgery, and then the icing on the cake: ringing in the new year, my hope for a fresh start, at the ER. And there is so much more... and not little things, big things.

When I look back on 2011, I am brought to tears. It was the most challenging, most difficult year of my life. But despite that, I can say that Eric and I are more solid than ever before. When the tears just wouldn't stop, he would pull me into his arms and remind me that no matter what goes on outside his embrace, that when I am in his arms, I am safe. When I am in our home, I am safe. And no matter what circumstances attempt to rob me of everything I've held dear, I'm never alone.

It's comforting to know... but even so, defeat swells my heart. Because sometimes, although someone is physically there, it is impossible to be emotionally there. The accident happened to Eric. He went through emotions and physical pain that was unimaginable. He faced losing his leg, he faced never being able to do the things he once did. I experienced a different pain... the pain of losing my husband for months. The challenge of caring for both of us, on my own. The pain of not being able to touch or hold or be held. We both went through it together, but we both went through different hurts because our experiences were from different vantage points.

As I watched the ball drop from a chair in the waiting room, I felt numb. Empty.

"Happy New Year! Kiss me!" he said from beside me. Two old people sat on the far ends of the waiting room, not even offering a smile at the promise of the new year.

We kissed, but oh how I wish it was at home with our party hats, confetti, blow horns and Chili's take out. The nursing staff applauded and offered merriment for all of two minutes before they morphed into the cranky people we met when we first walked in.

Then we were called into the back room. Up until that point I didn't recognize anything. But then, as we walked down the hall, it was if a wave of memories washed over me. Like an ocean wave after a storm. Harsh, cold, rocking you back onto your heels as you fight the current.

I was there all over again. I passed the room where we were just five and a half months ago. This time, the halls were much calmer, much quieter. An overweight, burly man sat wide awake on a cot. It was nothing like before.

But I hated it. I hated every minute there. Eric didn't remember, but I did. I'm never alone, true. But I was alone in my head, in my heart. It just doesn't seem to end.

Eric, in his sweet husband-like way, told me that the new year wouldn't start until we woke up. That this trip to the ER was a fluke--the year's final jab. I smirked at his childlike ways, but then my eyes pooled with tears. God never gives you more than you can handle, but this never-ending year had taken its toll. And just when I thought it was over, I was reminded it wasn't. Right up until the last hour.

I pray that this year doesn't leave behind fuzzy memories of heavy hearts. I pray that more time is spent going for walks, taking pictures, lying in the sand, playing in the surf, jumping in the lake, snuggling at the drive-in theater, picnicking at the top of a mountain, fist pumping at concerts, and driving with no destination in mind.

I pray for closeness, for healing, for hugs, for passion, for smiles, and for hope.

2011 did us in, yes. But 2012 just rolled in and I can finally see a glimmer of promise.

come.

2011-12-31T13:19:00.000-05:00

It hurts me to see you this way
I can't sleep, I'm lying awake
Wondering what you're battling tonight
You've bought into all of the lies
And you've buried your fears inside
Haunted by a past you can't erase

What will it take
There's no mistaking
Only one place you belong

Chorus:
Please come home
Please come home
The door is open wide
You don't have to fix your life for me
I die a little every time that you leave
So come home

Your voice rings inside my ears
I’m fighting to hold back the tears
How can I make you see while there's still time

What will it take
There's no mistaking
Only one place you belong

You're not a disappointment to me
You're just like the rest of us
Struggling through the journey
I don't care what secrets you may keep
I could never love you less
Than all the love inside of me

four.

2011-12-15T12:55:00.000-05:00

Four years ago I had a God-inspired encounter with someone who, unbeknownst to me, would change my life. I had just returned home from a weekend away and that same week, met a handsome man in a black leather coat. An invitation to an Intervarsity meeting on campus prompted the interaction and I was eager to meet the man I only knew on paper.

It could almost be described as a whirlwind romance--as cliche as that sounds. No more than two weeks later, this same person handed me a single rose, played a beautifully written song on his guitar, and asked me the honor of being his girlfriend. Through tears, I whispered yes.

It was the first of many yes answers I gave him. He asked me to say yes to memories on December 15, 2007, and ever since we've been exploring the world together and finding adventure in our own backyard. On March 18, just a year and three months later, I said yes to forever. And ever since, we've been building memories on the foundation of an eternal love. And finally, after what seemed like the longest wait, I said yes to being his wife before 150 of our closest friends and family. But more importantly, I promised to spur him on to become the man that God intended him to be, and to rest our love in the palm of Jesus' hands, with the sincere promise to ensure Christ remained at the center of our relationship as He had since the day I met him.

Our wedding song couldn't more accurately describe how blessed we are and how great our love truly is.

I wonder what God was thinking

When He created you

I wonder if He knew everything I would need

Because He made all my dreams come true

When God made you

He must have been thinking about me.

...My world just can't be right

Without you in my life.

The song is much longer, with more poignant words and romantic expressions, yet just these few lines so adequately describe how I feel about what God has done in our lives. The past finally makes sense. The future is bright. And it's true--my life wouldn't make sense without Eric-Thomas.

Just days before I met my future husband, I was sitting in a restaurant that (and he doesn't know this) we visited just two weeks ago. I was sitting on a bench, waiting for a table, fuming over my current state of singleness, the fact that I hadn't been on a date in nearly a year, and whether or not I'd ever meet an individual that held the same morals, faith, and lust for life. I slumped back against the wall behind me and watched as happy couples pranced by holding hands and wondered if God would ever find someone that fit me--an odd-shaped puzzle piece.

In that moment, after watching several couples walk by, I gave up. In my mind, in my head, in my heart, I gave up the romance I so desperately sought after and placed my heart in Christ's hands. I surrendered and silently prayed this simple prayer: "I trust you. I trust you with my heart. I give you my desire for a relationship and trust you'll bring along my other half in Your own time."

The next day I received the invitation and five days later met my future husband. There is power in surrender! God was just waiting for the green light. Everything was in place. Everything was ready for that grand encounter... He just needed me to give it all to Him. I can just see God jumping for joy as my heart surrendered my deepest desire. Finally... He must have muttered. And then He began to set things in motion. But it wasn't until I put Christ first.

I can't tell you how much my life has changed in the last four years. I have gone from cheerless to joyful, from unsatisfied to full, from quiet to playful, from uncertain to confident, and from apprehensive to hopeful. So much has changed. So much has improved. I am blessed beyond comprehension.

I'm often asked how I knew that Eric-Thomas was "the one" and the most simplistic answer is this: I knew I could do more for my Savior with him than apart from him. I am more bold for Christ, more involved in my church, and more open about my relationship with Jesus because of my husband's confidence and influence in my life. Just as I promised to spur him on to become the man that God always intended him to be, he has propelled me into an even deeper relationship with Jesus Christ.

Darling,

These past four years have been adventurous, tumultuous, hysterical, delightful, and unforgettable. I said yes to memories this same day four years ago, and my answer is still yes. A new chapter began when we exchanged our vows, and I am thrilled to continue making everlasting memories with you. You couldn't be more suitable for me, sweetheart. Thank you for encouraging me in my walk with the Lord, for putting Him first regardless of the situation, and for pursuing a lasting romance that I know will never fade.

You have done more for me--for us--than you'll ever know. God must have thought of you before I was ever born. You would have been four months old, but as He was forming me in my mother's womb, He must have had you in mind as He put on the finishing touches. Only you would be able to handle my my fears, my over-analytical mind, and my constant worry. And He knew only you could help me overcome those things. God knew we would be together from the moment we were conceived. Is there a greater miracle? Is there anyone more romantic than our Savior?

As He continues to write our love story, I pray that we will draw closer and have the capacity to hold more love for one another than we ever deemed possible. I love you more than words.

Love,

Happy four years!

pursuit.

2011-12-07T12:18:00.001-05:00

Although I wake up every morning with him, spend every evening with him, and fall asleep with him beside me, I still can't seem to get enough of him. I've known him for four years as of December 2 and we will celebrate one and a half years of marriage on December 12, and yet still, the giddiness that rises up in my chest at the mere sight of him still overwhelms my heart.

My husband is the most incredible man I know (most people know this). His compassion, patience, and understanding are worthy of jealousy. The way he honors, respects, and cherishes me is fairytale-esque. Just the simple way he touches my face, kisses my forehead, and teases me fills me with more joy than I could ever express.

So many people say that romance fades with time. That marriage--or rather the wedding--is the climax of a relationship, and that as the years pass the stress of work and responsibilities of a life shared overwhelm the relationship and diminish the fond memories of butterflies and flirty glances exchanged across a crowded room.

I personally am entirely against this notion. I believe that when time is invested, that romance can only blossoms, bursting forth with more color than ever dreamed possible.

When God first created man and woman I believe He intended for that relationship to prosper and flourish and for their hearts to hold more love as time drew them together. I think that when the grit of sin tarnished the beauty of the first chapter of humankind that it consequently began to take more work to make the relationship last. That's likely why the age-old poets and psalmists say that relationships take work. But work is such a negative word. That word is associated with long hours, little vacation time, and an inconsiderate boss. So rather than work, I like to say that relationships take pursuit.

Pursuit is a much friendlier word. It conjures up in us feelings of flight, energy, and excitement. Pursuit does produce a spark of energy, a bright charge, and yet it also produces sweat.

Most of us have worked out, pounding ourselves into the ground at the gym. But when you've finished the race, the gleam of sweat, the flushed cheeks, and the pounding heart feel so good. It's energizing and refreshing.

The same is true of the pursuit put into relationships. Sometimes it involves some sweat and toil, but the end result well worth the short time spent chasing your loved one's heart.

Romance, when pursued the way God had originally intended, should only flourish as the days pass. I have told a number of friends to think of it this way:

You know how when you are in the midst of a passionate romance in a dating relationship and you can't imagine loving the person any more because you are overwhelmed with love for them? Well, it's true. You can't love them more. Not in that moment because your heart is bursting at the seams with love for them and your heart cannot contain another ounce. But as your love deepens, God allows your heart to grow in order to hold more love for that person. It's not that you didn't love them before. It's that you loved them with all that you had--which at the start of your love story, is with a smaller heart.

In marriage, and with time, your heart only grows to contain more love. So although it may seem like you can't love your prince any more than you already do, you will. Because one day your heart will expand to hold more love, care, tenderness, and passion than you can carry right now. That's how love matures.

When I first met my sweet husband, my heart was little. And as we grew closer, my heart began to fill up with love for him to the point that I thought I'd never love him more. When we became engaged, my heart had grown and filled with more committed love. Once again, I believed that I couldn't love him more. On our wedding day, my heart had grown even larger, spilling over with love, anticipation, and tenderness that is beyond description. And now, nearly a year and a half into marriage, I can say I love him even more than on that special day. Because my heart continues to grow, allowing more love to fill my heart.

If we put in the pursuit, if we allow time to nurture our hearts, can you even imagine the love we'll share with our spouses when we are well into our 50th year of marriage?

Romance doesn't fade with time. Romance fades when pursuit stops. If we continue to study our men, treasure our time with them, and invest our energy into their lives, then love only grows. It only grows.

And when you make God the binding that holds your love story together, love will never fade away.

thanks.

2011-11-23T10:16:00.000-05:00

It seems like the holiday just creeped up behind me, tapped me on the shoulder, and exclaimed, "Here I am!" Usually there seems to be a gradual approach to the anticipated season--lots of waiting--but this year it just seemed to appear. No complaining here. I'm thrilled and filled with expectation and childlike giddiness yet again.

But this year is different. This year, I'm not just thankful for my husband, I'm thankful for his life. There's a difference. Last year, it was being thankful for him, but it was also being thankful for what he brought to my life. He was my husband, my future, my joy. But this year, I am just thankful that he is alive and well and truly living. This year taught me that life can be snatched out from beneath us like a throw rug without any forewarning. We must relish the time we have now, the present. We must be appreciative of life, of mobility, and of the mundane things we often take for granted. Regardless of whether or not Eric is my husband, I am just thankful this Thanksgiving for his life--that he is alive and well and healthy.

I'm also thankful for our family in a different capacity. They immediately responded to my trembling voice over the phone on that horrifying night. His mother drove over two hours to be by his side and my parents were already on the highway before I could utter my objections. They were there. They dropped everything and ran. That is love. Living, breathing, complete love. Selfless love.

And I'm thankful for my first love, Jesus Christ. Even when I demanded that He tell me why, when I pressed Him for an explanation, when defeat rose up in my chest, He never left my side. I wasn't alone when I sat on that ugly cot pushed up against the ugly, white walls of the hospital. He was there. When I shook with fear, His hand was on my shoulder. When I had to determine whether or not to transfer my husband to Boston Medical, He whispered His words of wisdom. When I slept on the couch for over a month listening to the horrible sounds of my husband moaning in pain at the other end of the hall, He wiped my tears. When I felt like I had lost my husband, He reminded me who my first Love was and His presence filled the room.

They say God fills you up to pour you out. I think that's true. But even when there was nothing left for me to give and my heart was in a state of drought, He poured into me and filled the empty spaces.

I thought last year would be the best Thanksgiving ever... how could I ever have anticipated what would be waiting for us down the road? This.. this is the greatest Thanksgiving ever. Because there is life. And life in abundance.

So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord,

continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith

as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness.

-Colossians 2:6-7

about.

2011-11-21T15:13:00.000-05:00

THREE WAYS I AM STILL A KID

1. I still squeal with delight on Christmas morning

2. I don't know what pot smells like

3. I want a bike

THREE WAYS I AM ALREADY OLD

1. I'm very conservative

2. Paying off my student loans would feel like winning the lottery

3. I'm saving for a house

THREE THINGS I WANT TO DO

1. Travel internationally

2. Go rock climbing--real rock climbing

3. Write a book

THREE WAYS THAT I’M A STEREOTYPICAL “BOY”

1. I like hunting and fishing and wood-sy things

2. I play video games... and I can beat the boys

3. I don't like talking on the phone

THREE WAYS THAT I’M A STEREOTYPICAL “GIRL”

1. I believe in fairytales

2. I love to dress up

3. Retail therapy is my drug of choice

THREE NEW THINGS I WANT TO DO IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS

1. Learn the ins and outs of my new-ish camera

2. Read Love and Respect

3. See Brad Paisley and/or Kelly Clarkson in concert

THREE THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MYSELF

1. My hair color

2. I'm compassionate

3. I'm a deep thinker

THREE THINGS I STRONGLY DISLIKE ABOUT MYSELF

1. I'm a chronic worrier. Hate that

2. My thighs

3. I'm a deep thinker

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE ME

1. The dark

2. Spiders

3. Failure

THREE THINGS THAT I DON'T UNDERSTAND

1. Why I used to tan and now I can't

2. Why someone wouldn't want to know Jesus

3. Why winter lasts longer than any other season

THREE OF MY EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS

1. Coffee

2. A hot shower

3. My cell phone

THREE THINGS I LOVE

1. Jesus

2. My husband

3. My family

THREE THINGS I HATE

1. Olives

2. Mushrooms

3. Injustice

THREE OF MY FAVORITE BOOKS

1. The Bible

2. Facing Your Giants by Max Lucado

3. The Shack by William P. Young

THREE CHARACTERISTICS OF THE OPPOSITE SEX THAT APPEAL TO ME

1. A heart sold out for Jesus Christ

2. Warm eyes

3. Strong family values

THREE THINGS I JUST CAN’T DO

1. Sing.

2. Play organized sports

3. Hula Hoop

THREE THINGS YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT ME

1. Writing is my greatest insecurity

2. I often feel misunderstood

3. I miss horseback riding more than anything

God.

2011-11-11T12:04:00.000-05:00

I've been reading William Paul Young's brilliant novel, The Shack, and I must tell you, despite all of the criticism it has received among Christian circles, I have been moved, challenged and thoroughly impressed by the author's representation of God.

By no means do I believe the book to be a factual, Biblically accurate testimony of God's character, but it does draw from truth and poses intriguing questions and though-provoking statements that truly confront the preconceived notions we have about God, Christ and the Holy Spirit.

God: "The problem is that many folks try to grasp some sense of who I am by taking the best version of themselves and projecting that to the nth degree, factoring in all the goodness they can perceive which often isn't much, and then call that God. And while it may seem like a noble effort, it falls pitifully short of who I really am. I'm not merely the best version of you that you can think of. I am far more than that, above and beyond all that you can ask or think."

My jaw dropped when I read that line. Not necessarily for what it says, but for what it revealed to me. I have projected my best self onto God and determined that my very best standard is His expectation of me. I've always known that we, as humans, have the propensity to do this, but it has never been said in such a remarkable way.

This book has revealed to me that in my quest for purity, for righteousness and for love, I have been determining what my opinion of perfect purity, perfect righteousness and perfect love is and then fighting my flesh to perform those virtues in the way I envision. But true perfection is far more than what I have envisioned. When did God ever define perfection as a set of rules, guidelines and strict procedures?

If I project my own standards onto God, I (in essence) worship myself. By projecting our own standards onto God we are making a feeble attempt at understanding who He really is. But by doing so, we place Him in a box and place limits on who He can be and what He can do. Who wants to worship a God that you can comprehend? There is no mystery in that. There is no trust, faith, and dependence.

We assume we know how Christ will react to our mistakes, our failures and our victories, because we assume He will react in the same way we react internally to those things.

This novel has shown me that by worrying, I am attempting to protect my heart from what I perceive will happen if I don't set up fortresses around it. It is my desperate attempt to gain control over the future, which is out of my hands. By imagining the worst, by envisioning abandonment, a broken heart, and empty love, and believing these things to come to fruition, it becomes my reality. Fear becomes my reality. And therefore, the human response is to set up boundaries and contingencies to avoid that which I fear.

Mack: "Why do I have so much fear in my life?

Jesus: "Because you don't believe. You don't know that we love you. The person who lives by their fears will not find freedom in my love... to the degree that those fears have a place in your life, you neither believe that I am good nor know deep in your heart that I love you. You sing about it; you talk about it, but you don't know it."

What if, after all these years, I still haven't grasped Who Christ truly is through and through. He is incomprehensible, yes. But what if I have only scratched the surface? What if He is far more that I've ever allowed Him to be?

What if the "rules" I have placed on my own life is my way of succumbing to religion. God is about relationship, and with relationship comes faithfulness, respect, servanthood--which could be described as "rules" of relationship--but God only sets guidelines because He wants what is best for us. He is not a little dictator sitting up on His throne demanding His own way, but like a parent, He requires us to behave a certain way so that we can bask in the greatness of all that He originally created for us. By going against these things, we are only cheapening the true version of love, joy, peace, respect, purity that we were meant to enjoy when He first breathed life into creation.

God does not demand denial of the fullness of a romantic relationship prior to marriage to burden us, but to protect us, admonish us, and so that we--as His daughters--can experience the fullness of all that He created. So that He can give us a small taste of the magnificent, perfected Garden of Eden and how He intended romance to be enjoyed.

In my pursuit of Christ I have adorned Him with flawless human qualities. I have assumed He would respond with anger and disappointment in the face of my mistakes because that is how the flesh responds. I have assumed that after not speaking to Him for a while that He would turn His face from me if I dare approach His throne. I expected Him to forgive, yes, but not to forget. He says that He will, yet I know it is impossible to forget a wrong done against you. I assumed God had rules because people have rules. But who am I to assume these things of God?

God is greater than the box I choose to put Him in. I give Him rules and boundaries because I can comprehend those; it is safe. As humans, we have a great desire to understand and if something is too big to wrap our minds around, we shrink it to fit our understanding. But God cannot be understood and that is the majesty of it all. And even more profound is that although He is too righteous, too perfect, too awesome to comprehend, He still wants to be known.

I'm not merely the best version of you that you can think of. I am far more than that, above and beyond all that you can ask or think...

It's true. God is far more that I've ever allowed Him to be.

won't.

2011-10-25T08:18:00.000-04:00

Stop being jealous of what someone else accomplished when you aren't
willing to put in the work it took to get there.

Touche.

I love Joyce Meyer because she is real, raw, and honest. I've been listening to hear television program, and I can't help but nod, and nod, and nod some more. Quit saying you can't and admit you won't, she said. It's not that you can't work out, it's that you won't. It's not that you can't go to church, it's that you won't. It's not that you can't get out of debt, it's that you won't. It's not that you can't forgive them, it's that you won't. It's not that you can't be happy because of this, that, or the other thing... it's that you won't.

How often do we actually sit back and realize that we are choosing our own unhappiness? I do it all the time. And sometimes, yes, it's warranted... but it's not necessary. And so often we remain unhappy because we are attempting to be happy by our own strength. Because, yes, sometimes being happy takes a whole lot of energy and willpower.

We ought to put a little more trust in God. Even if it means sitting in a chair and praying, "God, I can't do this on my own. I can't have a good attitude on my own. I can't be gracious, happy, merciful or grateful on my own. So I'm going to sit here and wait for you to make me feel that way." And keep your word. Sit there until your attitude changes. Because we can't often change or control our circumstances. But we can control our response to our circumstances.

For me personally, I often feel like I just can't write this book. I've accomplished a couple chapters, an outline, table of contents, the prologue, but I just sit back at the end of the week after not having touched it and with a desperate sigh mumble, "I'll never finish this." It's not that I can't. It's that I won't If I was honest with myself it's that I find myself too busy, too tired, and too OCD to put in the work required.

The other half of that message is this: after we become jealous of what someone else has accomplished, we want to know what they did to get there. If someone loses ten pounds in a week, we want to know what that person ate. If they ran a 5k we want to know how they trained.

Just because a method worked for someone else doesn't mean it will work for you. To have success in a particular area we have to start waiting on God's plan. He already has a plan for your victory... and He's probably already given it to you.

God doesn't work on an assembly line. He doesn't create "one-size-fits-all" life plans. As soon as we figure that out, we've taken our first step towards accomplishing whatever He has placed on our hearts.

doors.

2011-10-11T13:19:00.000-04:00

Some life doors, if you will, are good. They are open, warm, inviting... you may even catch a glimpse of what lies down that hall or in that room (figuratively of course). Some doors require no pushing, key jiggling, or knocking. They are just open. And behind them lies the promise of good things to come. Not every door you walk through requires a leap of faith.

But sometimes a good door isn't a God door. Even if the door encased in gold and beckons you with guaranteed riches and success in ministry, doesn't mean that God desires for you to walk through it.

That's where the trouble comes in. Defining a good door from a bad door is often an easy task. Unless of course your definition of good balks at morality. But for those of us on the straight and narrow a bad door is easy to recognize. But distinguishing a God door from a good door? One letter sets them apart.

Doing good for God is a phenomenal thing. As His children, we often jump at the chance. But n open door is not indicative of a good door. If we raise our hand at the first opportunity because it's labeled as ministry work, we may be selling God short.

Bold statement, yes; I'm working this out in my head even as I write. But truly, if it's not His will, it's not a good door. And if it's not a God door, it's a bad door even if it presents itself as a good door. That's the bottom line, right?

fall.

2011-10-07T16:31:00.002-04:00

Fall has presented itself rather gently this year. The leaves have turned gradually, and despite the torrential rains, have managed to hug their branches long enough to pronounce themselves boldly this weekend. The air has lacked the crisp, nippy bite that often comes with the turn of the season. But two nights ago, fall arrived in its true form.

How do I know this? Because it was the first time I thought: We still haven't purchased firewood. From the moment I arrived home, I could not warm my feet. Even slippers did nothing but provide a comfy surface on which to stand. Climbing beneath the sheets and down comforter did little to rid the chill. Regardless, I fell into a restful sleep thanks to our new, plush mattress. It's a luxury, really.

But yes, fall has arrived... only to flee this weekend. Welcome to New England, I suppose. This weekend is supposed to be in the 80s and I can't say I'm disappointed. Just as long as it is not humid. That would be rather disappointing as I love the crisp freshness of fall air. Especially since we are going to North Conway to spend the not-long-weekend. Some of us have to work on Monday, you know.

I'm thrilled for a weekend away from the madness that has been our lives lately. Between the accident, recovery, physical therapy, bills, appointments galore, work-related struggles and stresses, car problems, and a myriad of other things, this weekend has been a long time coming. The last time we went anywhere was in June--four months ago. A third of a year ago. To say I'm anxious to leave for the weekend is an understatement in great capacity.

I hope and I pray that I can rid the struggles of late to enjoy this phenomenal weekend away with Eric's family. They are such an enormous blessing in my life and I am so honored to share my life with them. I couldn't have married into a more warm, loving, and welcoming family. I know it is going to be a lovely time sitting around the fireplace, roasting marshmallows, enjoying the Fryeburg Fair, cuddling with my favorite nephew who has grown up far too fast, and laughing hysterically. Those are given. So rather than mull over the parts of life that need fixing, I think I'll rest in this Scripture that one of my favorite people sent me this morning:

“To whom then will you liken Me
That I would be his equal?” says the Holy One.
Lift up your eyes on high
And see who has created these stars,
The One who leads forth their host by number,
He calls them all by name;
Because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power,
Not one of them is missing.

Why do you say, O Jacob, and assert, O Israel,
“My way is hidden from the LORD,
And the justice due me escapes the notice of my God”?
Do you not know? Have you not heard?
The Everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth
Does not become weary or tired.
His understanding is inscrutable.
He gives strength to the weary,
And to him who lacks might He increases power.
Though youths grow weary and tired,
And vigorous young men stumble badly

Yet those who wait for the LORD
Will gain new strength;
They will mount up with wings like eagles,
They will run and not get tired,
They will walk and not become weary.

{Isaiah 40: 25-31}

Did you read it? Don't skip down to this part. Really read it. I often find myself skimming verses as opposed to really digesting them. Digest this. There are so many promises in these few verses. I don't know how Becky, my dear friend, knew that I needed to hear this today. God certainly has blessed me with our friendship.

So this weekend, I will cast my cares upon the Lord, shed my pride, and focus my attention on the second family that God so generously blessed me with. And I'll really laugh this weekend. And I'll really smile. Because God has not forgotten about me. He has named every star, named them all and "because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power, not one of them is missing." Not one. If He can't lose track of a star, even if He tried, He can't lose track of me.

When I feel that "justice due me escapes the notice of my God," He reminds me, us, here in this verse that he "does not grow weary and or tired. His understanding is inscrutable." We often hear the verse about mounting up with wings like eagles, but how often have we read the prologue to that triumphant statement?

So as you get ready to celebrate the weekend, remember that the Lord has not forgotten you. Just as fall arrived gradually, so may the answers to your questions. So enjoy the foliage. Enjoy the colors. And remember, your Rescuer will pronounce Himself in due time.

weary.

2011-10-04T20:10:00.000-04:00

Even in pain, the Lord is worthy of praise. Because when when I amoverwhelmed by all that is around me and the tears that flood myheart run down my face, I must remember that His heart and soul wasbroken when He held His skin up on that cross. For me. For thesemoments. For this brokenness I feel right now. Even in pain, He isworthy of praise.

CryingHoly is the
Lord God Almighty
Worthy is the Lamb
Who wasSlain
To Receive our
Greatest Adoration
Jesus Son of God
IsHis Name

To God be the glory.

defense.

2011-09-12T13:43:00.000-04:00

On July 14, I was forced to throw up a shield before my face, stifle my tears, and face our overwhelming circumstances with clarity and strength. That first night, the night he was rushed to the ER, I let my tears flow--but not until after he was put under anesthesia. Once he was in an unconscious state, holding back my sobs was no longer necessary. Weak Samantha could emerge while the nurses jerked, panted, and groaned as they tried to relocate his knee. Tears were allowed when I saw the looks of concern and urgency in the eyes of the staff. Tears were allowed when, after the second time they attempted to locate his knee failed, the doctor told me his arteries may be blocked. Tears were allowed when he muttered the words, "twenty percent" and "critical."

It was like a scene from a movie--where the main character is pulled out of the room, a hospital curtain yanked before his face. I was hustled out into the hall as emergency personnel poured into the room. I felt like I was walking in slow motion down the corridor as nurses, doctors, and aides rushed past me, dispersing into different rooms.

Suddenly, losing all strength in my knees, I sunk into a cot along the wall, and dropped my head into my hands. I couldn't stop crying or shaking or praying. I remember a nurse, seeing my fear, coming up beside me and pulling me into a hug.

"He's going to be okay," she said, rubbing her hand over my shoulder.

I'm not sure if I said anything in response. My chin was quivering so much that talking was next to impossible.

As she returned to her work, I called my mom, having told her just minutes before that she didn't need to come to the hospital. Everything was fine.

"Hello?"

"Mom? Mom, when are you going to be here? You need to be here."

"I'm already on the highway," she said, her voice tight.

The next few days I hardly ate, spending most of the day holding his hand while he slept, gathering information from the nurses, speaking on behalf of my worn out husband, and praying. I prayed a lot. As the first few days crawled by at a pace too slow to accurately describe, my next task was to breathe words of encouragement, extend my hand so he could squeeze my fingers through the pain, and stay alert through his surgery. I only truly cried twice during those few days--and not within Eric's presence.

When we got home, I focused on assisting him with basic care. I prayed he would just sleep... the pain was horrific and I couldn't bear to witness his furrowed brow as he fought off the pain for my sake. I began to work again from home. I tried to remain distracted.

Two weeks later, I returned to work, calling in a couple times each day to check on him. He was using a wheelchair and crutches. He was somewhat mobile, but hardly independent.

And then, two weeks ago, I let down my shield. Figuratively, I was too tired, too worn. I couldn't hold it up anymore. As my sweet, adoring husband began to recover, anger overwhelmed me and reality suddenly surfaced. I wasn't angry with him in the least--I was angry that we were here, in this place of turmoil. I was angry that he was the victim. I was angry that I felt helpless. I was angry that I couldn't fix it. I was angry he was in pain. And I was angry that "normal" seemed so far away. I didn't realize it at the time, but all of my emotions had been stifled as I held up my defenses on behalf of my husband. In those moments, I began to wrestle with the reality of what had happened. The accident actually happened. It happened to my husband. And it thwarted our plans, our summer. It changed us--both for the good and for the not so good. I became irritable and reclusive. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to work. I wanted to be away.

It's funny how the body works. How in the midst of immediate pain and heartache, we throw up our shields and put on our armor and fight. But eventually, we tire. And weeks later we begin to mourn the loss--whatever it may be. For me, I lost my husband for two months. We lost the summer. We lost weekends and plans. We lost freedoms we had always taken for granted. Life suddenly evolved around the injury. For those first few weeks my brain said, "I'm too afraid to feel this." But in time, my defenses weakened. And suddenly, I was reliving the whole ordeal: the ER, the surgery, the hospital... every terrifying moment was on replay. This time, with unhindered emotions. I cried all the time. I was angry. I felt robbed. I felt useless.

The Bible says in 1 Peter 5:10, "After you have suffered a little while, He will restore, support, and strengthen you, and He will place you on a firm foundation."

I can't help but think of David who wrote in the Psalms, "I am worn out from sobbing. All night I flood my bed with weeping, drenching it with my tears." He knew pain. He understood heartache. And the Enemy snatched up the opportunity and attempted to drown him in his own pain. But after David suffered a little while, he was restored and made new again.

This is so encouraging as I battle my own flesh and as I brace against the overwhelming force of these circumstances. I am so blessed and thankful that Eric is doing remarkably well. Good news and strong progress has been made. Eric is by far the most patient, most positive person I have ever known, and this point in time has not wavered his faith. That alone is encouraging, but I also find comfort and peace knowing that Christ understands pain, He understands heart break, and the man whom Christ called a "man after My own heart" also soaked his bed with tears.

Trials refine us, strengthen us, and grow us. They mold us into the individual that God desires us to be. Just like sandpaper smooths out the rough patches on a piece of wood, difficult circumstances refine our hearts and souls to reflect Christ's grace and provision. I know this: I must remain confident in Christ's refining power in my life and understand that this will only make me stronger, more compassionate, and more Christ-like. It will make our marriage bolder, stronger, and even more unstoppable for Jesus Christ. I may have only put my shield down two weeks ago... I may have only let down my guard days ago... but the refining process has begun. And I know I will emerge a stronger soldier.

prayer

2011-08-23T12:04:00.001-04:00

Lately, I have never passed up the opportunity to sleep in. However, this morning was a bit different. Rather than smacking the snooze button incessantly until the last possible moment, I swung my legs over the bed and got up. The circumstances were the same. Normally I would relish the opportunity to sleep in an additional thirty minutes before crawling out of bed in a fog, moaning all the way to the kitchen, shuffling my feet in irritation, and brewing my lifeblood. I would typically nurture my codependency on coffee and go through the less-than-glorious task of checking my emails, the headlines, and the pages of those with which I am Facebook-friendly. Some call it stalking, I call it being attentive.

But this morning, I felt a renewed sense of energy. I tossed on my flip flops and stepped out into the cool air. Yes, fall is quietly encroaching upon summer's territory. But this morning, I sensed that thrill of a new season and new adventures.

No coffee. No iPod. Just me, the gravel beneath my feet, and Jesus. That's how I spent the first twenty minutes of my morning. I took a walk and spent that time with my Heavenly Father, whom I am ashamed to admit I haven't talked to in a while.

Sure, we chat before meals and in the heat of trials, but when was the last time I showered Him with compliments? I'd rather not say. Days? Weeks?

The walk was so peaceful. The sun flickered through the trees and there was hardly a sound besides the chirping of little critters waking up to greet the day. I can't say the time was not entirely uninterrupted. There were a moments where a prayer would lead me on a tangent of thoughts. But they always circled back to my Savior. It was invigorating and it left me with a sense of weightlessness. I was able to praise my Savior, bring before Him my greatest dreams, needs, and failures, petition Him for wisdom and grace, and thank Him over and over again for His provision, timing, grace, and forgiveness.

Why don't we take time to do this every day? My day began so differently. I trotted through the front door at the end of my walk, brewed a strong pot of coffee, and drank in the quietness of the apartment. My sweet husband was still asleep and yet, I had already basked him in prayer without his knowing.

This must become a routine. I am doing my marriage no favors, my family no favors, my friendships no favors and my employer no favors if I do not spend time daily in prayer. But most importantly, I am shortchanging my relationship with Christ when I do not spend quality time with Him. He so strongly desires to interact with us, encourage us, move us, challenge us to the core, and love on us. But He can only do this when we meet with Him; court Him.

I pray that Christ continues to wake me in the morning. I pray that He gives me renewed energy and strength to meet the day with focus. By submerging ourselves in prayer before facing a world littered with sin, temptation, and disappointments, we are better equipped to respond with Christ-like grace, with love, and ultimately, with confidence in Christ Jesus. Prayer should be our first response... not our last resort.

pieces.

2011-08-22T15:37:00.001-04:00

As I look around and witness just the surface of romantic relationships, I often find my heart breaking. A couple from high school that got married just two years ago, is now divorced. Another's marriage is on the rocks. It seems as though most people are married and miserable, planning their second or third or four marriage, or getting divorced. And if they aren't married, they want to be. But why? Why would you want to be married when we are a culture of people notorious for stomping on and snuffing out relationship and relationship with regard only for self.

That is a rhetorical question, of course. Just to get you thinking. But when you truly step back and observe, I can't help but wonder... When did their love fade? What could be so catastrophic that you wake up and discover that the love once shared is nonexistent? What moves a person to crawl into bed with someone else? When did it start?

I can honestly attest to weeping when I hear stories of broken relationships. Because it was never God's intent. And it was never the intent of the people involved.

My husband always reminds me that no one goes to the wedding alter and thinks, I am totally going to cheat on my wife in a couple years... maybe even sooner. Definitely. He has an excellent point. No one thinks that. Broken relationships and marriages happen to those who least expect it. And that accounts for everyone. That is why my husband is so stringent with his boundaries. No matter if she is a friend, one of our youth group kids, or a co-worker, he makes every effort to avoid lengthy conversations or interactions without me present. Many people, myself included, often think he's a bit nutty. I mean, sometimes he comes across rather rude! But if you ask him why, it's because he doesn't ever want to consider himself "strong" or beyond the reach of temptation.

This is in part, due to his family's circumstances. And although I sometimes encourage him to be a bit "nicer" to those girls he comes in contact with, he won't budge. Why? Because he wants to protect our relationship. That's why he bounces his eyes when a provocative scene flashes across the television screen, or why he reaches for my hand and turns to look at me when a cleavage-bearing woman walks by. He is adamant about protecting us. And showing me love and respect.

That is why I limit my conversations with men. Women connect emotionally. Therefore, it is my responsibility to remind myself that I am not above temptation in any area. And that to maintain my beautiful relationship with my husband means strong boundaries. Isn't that worth the sacrifice?

So is that how it starts for these broken relationships? A chat, a glance, a brief touch to the arm or shoulder? Chatting at work leads to lengthier conversations in the break room, leads to a harmless lunch down the street, leads to a quick phone call, leads to making after-work plans, and then low and behold, you are in a nasty mess.

Given the statistics, shouldn't we be doing everything in our power to protect our relationships? Our second priority, next to our relationships with Christ, should be our marriages and our relationships. We should be thinking about them, watering them, cultivating them. Don't stop. Don't take a break. Work at it tirelessly.

Since the accident, Eric-Thomas and I have gone through some ups and downs. The first few weeks were difficult emotionally as I couldn't bear to leave his side and I was tormented by the memories of holding him down to the stretcher while he clenched the sides, screaming. We drew closer as we came to grips with all that he had survived, knowing he could have lost his life.

And then it got harder. Sleeping on the couch for over a month, the responsibilities, the ongoing pain, the constant need and lack of sleep... I was tired. And I felt distant. And I didn't want to put in any more effort than I already was. The situation suddenly became all about me. And yes, he was focused on himself as well... how could he not? He was trapped in the house, completely dependent upon me for daily routines. And so we drifted a bit emotionally. Soon, I found myself crying in the car, at work, and when curled up on the couch trying to sleep, my husband down the hall where I should have been. I missed my husband. I couldn't sleep in our teeny bed because he needed the extra space for his leg.

We stopped working. What we really needed to do was work harder. Press harder. Love harder. Romance more. When things get tough, when circumstances dictate your schedule, your mood, and your responsibilities, it requires more work, more love, more respect.

Is this where people lose it? A circumstance happens and rather than fight, they run? Or rather than work harder they throw in the towel? Because it's hard for them?

We have got to fight harder for our marriages. That's what gets you over the speed bump. Because that's all they really are. They turn into mountains when you let them grow unattended.

After a week or two of frustration, we are back to "us." But it required work and compromise from both sides. We've got to show more respect for marriage as a union. We've got to respect more, love more, and put the other one first more. We've got to be selfless not selfish. That's what a relationship is.

I don't know about you, but I'm determined to fall into another category: married and happy. You're bound to shock some people, I guarantee it. Let's fall in love, not fall to pieces.

change.

2011-08-16T16:39:00.002-04:00

   Things change. Seasons change. Fashions change. Technologies change. Jobs change. Families move. Babies grow. Finances fluctuate. Values shift.
   People.
   People change.
   Change that isn't controlled is chaos if you ask me. A shift in normalcy is like drilling holes in my foundation. I become weak. But when I choose change, when I'm prepared for it, I embrace it and flourish within it. Moving to a new home? A lovely experience filled with fresh adventure. Being evicted and forced to move? A horrendous experience void of enthusiasm. Okay, so that's a rather exaggerated example. But in all seriousness, don't you feel the same way?
   I can't tell you how many tears I have shed over change. Especially when people change. When I see friends who once shared in my faith drift away from their Heavenly Father, my heart breaks. When I see family members reject what I am most passionate about, my throat tightens. When tragedy strikes, immediately changing circumstances without notice, my eyes sting.
   It's hard to be strong during those changes.
   And SO much changes. We can never have the latest phone, the newest laptop, or the coolest gadget because within minutes it is replaced with something promising bigger and better bells and whistles. What was stylish a year ago, you would be gawked at if seen wearing on the streets. I'm sure the appliances in my kitchen once sparked jealousy in the neighbors. Today, they are antiquated, loud, and cumbersome boxes of rusting screws.
   Sometimes I feel like I'm standing statuesque in a snow globe while a four year old shakes the globe furiously--small change swirling around and around and around me. I'm still and the world around me is busy changing, fluctuating, and developing. Techies seeking the latest and greatest, children growing up too fast, families drifting apart, and friends splitting at crossroads. Sometimes change is good. But sometimes change is chaos. And there is nothing I can do to stop it, reroute it, or change it. Sometimes I feel like I'm standing in the midst of a furious storm screaming as normalcy is uprooted.
   But no one's listening.
   That's why it is so comforting to know that Jesus never changes. He never wavers. He is the same today, tomorrow, and yesterday. If we feel far from Him, it's because we changed. He never moved. Although we will do everything in our power to convince ourselves that He did. Whatever influences in our lives that cause you, your friends, or your family to change, cannot change God. He cannot be stronger. He cannot be weaker. He does not have mood swings. He does not change His mind. And He stands in the same place He always has.

"Whatever is good and perfect comes to us from God above, who created all heaven's lights. Unlike them, He never changes or casts shifting shadows" (James 1:17).

   Isn't that refreshing? When the world seems against us, when you are going through the "worse" of "for better or worse," and when you feel too far gone, God is still standing where He has always been. You can always find Him. He doesn't trick you, confuse you, or abandon you. In a world where change happens every second, it is comforting to know that my God will never change. When people drift apart, my God draws closer. When families break, my God stands strong. When tragedy strikes, my God walks beside me. And when I feel all alone and lost in a sea of responsibility, fear, and weakness, my God is there. Beckoning me. He isn't controlled by your feelings, your attitude, or your frustration. He just IS.
   And He always will be. Because my God is greater, my God is stronger, my God is higher than any other. And if our God is for us, than what, I ask you, can stand against us?
   So when people drift apart and separate paths are taken, when tragedy erupts, and when chaotic change overwhelms you, just remember. God never changed. And He never will. And He is still chasing those people you feared you lost.

forget.

2011-08-04T15:48:00.002-04:00

I wish I had faith that superseded my own emotions regardless of the circumstance. I have faith, but I want unwavering, supernatural faith. Ever since the accident, I have been in positive spirits... until this week. This week, I'm tired. I'm worn. I'm broken.

I miss my husband.

This is hard on both of us. I can't imagine the physical and emotional pain he must be going through and the annoyance of a leg locked straight. I know that he will gain a full recovery. But I also know it will be a long road. One that will have it's difficulties. But sometimes while I am remembering I forget at Who God is...

Who taught the sun where to stand in the morning?

and Who told the ocean you can only come this far?
and Who showed the moon where to hide 'til evening?
Whose words alone can catch a falling star?

Nicole C. Mullen belts out these lyrics with such passion and drive. And her lyrics paint powerful pictures of God's majesty. She goes on to say:

And the same gentle hands that hold me when I'm broken
They conquered death to bring me victory.

Regardless of our circumstance, we have victory in Christ. We have strength in Him and can lean on Him because He is alive. He lives. How often I forget this...

I am so grateful that these set of circumstances have drawn my husband and I into a closer relationship, and into a greater dependence on Christ. But please, Lord, remind me. Remind me that You are in control. That You are in the driver's seat. That I can trust You. Because all too often... I forget.

tragedy.

2011-07-30T09:24:00.002-04:00

"Don't panic."

Those were the last two words I wanted to hear over the phone. Especially from my husband.

"What's wrong? What happened?" My stomach plummeted to the floor, my feet suddenly cemented to its surface. Dinner quietly sizzled away in the oven and the murmur of the television hummed in the background of a relatively calm evening.

"It's my leg. It's okay. He's calling 911. I'm okay. I'm okay. Don't panic."

Panic is exactly what rushed over my entire body. Instinctively, I began praying through the headpiece, as I frantically changed out of pajamas and into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I hustled back to the kitchen, turned off the oven, grabbed my keys and was out the door by the time I said, "Amen."

"Where are you?"

"Okay, it's bad," my husband moaned, panic heightening the inflection in his voice. "It's really bad. Really, really bad. It's broken. There's no way..."

"Don't look, sweetheart," I said firmly over the phone. "Get Phil on the line."

There was a rustling and then I heard Phil's familiar voice.

"How bad is it?"

"It's bad," he said.

"Where are you?"

In less than ten minutes, I was in full view of fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars. Their lights flashed ominously against the pavement as I pulled my car onto the other side of the road. I grabbed my keys, left my purse in the car, and booked it towards the silent sirens, stopping traffic in my wake.

There was no noise. No people. It scene was straight out of a silent movie.

You've got to be kidding me, I thought.

I then made my way into the woods, tripping over sticks and battling pine cones as they slipped beneath my flip flops.

"Phil?!" I screamed. "Phil?! Where are you?"

Silence. The path immediately split and I went right, tromping through the leaves and dirt and sticks and pushing back branches. Suddenly, a flashlight illuminated my path.

"Who is that?" I heard an officer yell.

"It's his wife," responded a familiar voice.

"It's just me," I yelled back. "I'm his wife!"

By the time I reached the little clearing where my husband was, paramedics were already at his side and loading him onto a portable stretcher.

"Can I get some information from you, miss?" an officer to my left prodded. I couldn't take my eyes off my husband. He was calm. No tears. No screaming.

"Eric. Eric-Thomas," I said, following my statement with our last name and address.

No, no allergies. No, I don't know what happened.

I made my way to my husband's side and that's when I saw it for the first time. His leg. Going the wrong way at a 90-degree angle. I reached for his face and pleaded with him not to look down.

"Just keep looking at the sky, honey," I said. It didn't take much convincing.

It took six grown men to carry him through the woods and to the back of the ambulance. I crawled into the front of the truck after grabbing my purse and throwing my keys in Phil's direction. Immediately, they began giving my husband something to ease the pain. Machines beeped and droned. My husband gripped the sides of the stretcher. I couldn't even sit by him. I was forced into the front seat, but I had a small window through which I could offer my encouragement. The engine of the truck hummed as we took off towards the hospital as darkness rolled over the sky like a velvet carpet.

Five days later we left the hospital.

It was the most horrific experience of my life and one I will never forget. The screams I heard down the hallway, the pressure I had to place on my husband's chest to hold him down, the pain on his face... all images that are ingrained into my memory.

It's been two-and-a-half weeks since the incident. And this morning, on this beautiful Saturday morning, my husband is playing video games, eating Cocoa Puffs, and acting like the little boy he once was. He will not be able to walk for three months, but I am exceedingly grateful to our Jesus who spared my husband's life.

It could have been so much worse. He could have lost his leg. The tree that collapsed while they were in the woods could have easily landed on his back, paralyzing him. Or landed on his head, killing him. Praise God that it was just a knee. Granted the surgeon only sees this type of severity twice every ten years, I still praise God that it was just a knee.

And I am thankful for organ donors. Because someone chose to give their body to the medical field after his or her death, my husband now has new ligaments and new tendons. He has someone else's parts.

And I am thankful that throughout this whole ordeal, my husband and I have drawn closer than ever before. His not being able to function on his own has allowed me to care for him in a way I never have. I have been able to show him that yes, I do love him more than he knows, and that yes, nothing can destroy our relationship.

We have been through quite a bit this first year or so of marriage, but every circumstance has given us the opportunity to persevere and grow.

But don't get me wrong... I don't look forward to these situations. In fact, my husband has strict order to NEVER let something like this happen again because the emotional trauma and pain I went through was almost more than I could bear.

Life won't stop. He will go out and film videos again, play in the woods again, run again, play soccer again, and fall again. He will create grand memories with friends, and one day, this will just be a memory. It will just be a brief moment of time in the history of a life well-lived.

perfect.

2011-07-01T11:44:00.000-04:00

There's this odd thing that tends to happen as we grow, or attempt to grow, deeper into our relationship with the Lord: we freeze. Have you ever noticed that? I find that every moment spent in the presence of God is later tainted by self-condemnation and fear. Those emotional speed bumps can manifest into any area of life--work, school, friends, relationships, family. You name it. Perfectionism creeps in and suddenly I am struck with the truth that I am not as dedicated, not as enthusiastic about my faith, not as patient as so-in-so, not as pretty as that girl, not as domestic as his wife. It seeps into any and every areas of life where we have the slightest sense of inadequacy.

And if you are me, there is more than one category.

A week ago, I attempted to write the first chapter of the book. And then on Wednesday, I wrote out a rough draft of the proposal I intend to present to a few publishers while down in Atlanta. Two steps forward, right? And then one large leap backwards.

I stumbled upon a website that promotes purity and Godly femininity created by one of the industry's champion authors. She and her husband have written eighteen books on the subject of relationships, purity, and feminine grace. And instantaneously I began to think that my book would be too lenient.

Perhaps saving your first kiss for the alter is the only way to truly be pure in the sight of God at the alter. Perhaps struggling with intense temptation is wrong. Perhaps this book is not meant to be written, but it is my attempt at justifying myself. It went on and on until suddenly I was emotionally vomiting all over my husband's lap, truly terrified that I was not what God had intended. That He was disappointed and distraught over my slip ups and mistakes. That He wasn't confident in my ability to be His pen.

And so I haven't written anything sense. My moment of inspiration fizzled.

Isn't it interesting how the closer we get to God's purpose for our lives, the greater sense of obstruction we feel? These feelings have paralyzed me for over three years. This book has been on my heart for three years, but fear and inadequacy have keep the book restrained to a table of contents and a prologue for as long as I can remember.

Satan will do anything and everything in his power to keep you from the way God wants you to go. And yes, Satan is telling half truths--you are not adequate, but God is. You are not perfect, but God is. You are not capable, but God is.

And then he tells us that God is disappointed, when really, we are disappointed. He infiltrates our thoughts and convinces us that we cannot be used for God's glory. And guess what? We can't if we take captive that lie and make it our truth.

It is such a difficult battle of the mind. It's so hard to fight negative thoughts that the Enemy so conveniently throws our way because we don't need convincing... we already believe it, and those thoughts are just confirmation of the truth we have already made our own. Does this make sense?

God cannot use you for His purpose if you allow the lies of the Enemy--a real, live spiritual monster--to captivate your heart and mind. It paralyzes you. Stop looking to other people, stop relying on your own strength, and quit measuring yourself against another sinful individual. Dive into God's Word. Rely on His truth. Compare yourself to His standards.

Maybe then we'll actually begin to make a difference.

update.

2011-06-29T09:47:00.000-04:00

This past Friday, my sweet husband went to the church where they were holding a lock-in for the junior and senior high boys. While he was investing in the lives of children (love my man!), I was staring at a blank Word document. If I haven't mentioned it before, I'll mention it again--one of the greatest nuisances is watching that little black line flicker over the blank page. It's painful to watch. An entire white canvas waiting to be painted with word pictures.

I spent a good half hour or so praying and worshipping God prior to opening Word and I was confident that He would give me the words. And although it took more than a few minutes to get started, once the words came, they came like a flood. I took a couple of breaks mainly because I was so overwhelmed by years of research and how to organize my thoughts. But by 11:30 p.m. I had almost an entire chapter of God's book complete!

Yes, it's true. I finally put pen to paper (or shall I say fingertips to keyboard) and began writing the long overdue chapters of the book that God placed on my heart nearly two years ago.

In the midst of writing, I learned so much about Adam and Eve and the first marriage. There is so much depth in such a few verses and I can't wait to share what God revealed to me to those who choose to read this book upon its completion.

My goal is to have a sample chapter and proposal complete prior to July 10 when I leave for Atlanta. Please pray for me as my heart's desire is to give this entire project to the Lord. Pray that it is His book, His message, His words. I want to be so far removed from this book so readers can see Jesus Christ on each page.

This should be an interesting year as I plan to have a rough draft of my manuscript by Christmas. There is a lot more to write!

I am already praying for the ladies (and gentlemen) who read this book when it is complete. I pray that He ministers to their hearts in a powerful way.

If I were to have a life purpose verse, a goal verse, this would be it:

"Publish His glorious deeds among the nations.

Tell everyone about the amazing things He does."

Psalm 96:3 NLT

anniversary.

2011-06-17T16:52:00.001-04:00

I can hardly believe that my prince and I have been married for over a year as of Sunday. It has been an incredible journey and we have nothing but joy to look forward to in the years to come. Although neither of us can imagine a greater 365 consecutive days, we are intent on proving statistics wrong and pledge to make each year even greater, deeper and more emotionally secure than the previous year. There is no where to go but deeper, wider, and higher because we serve a mighty and loving God. I believe our commitment to Christ makes all the difference in our marriage.

Our celebration this past weekend wouldn't be considered picturesque by contemporary standards, but to the two of us, it was cozy. We drove up to Portland on Friday night and spent the evening with friends and then took the 9:30 ferry to Peaks Island, Maine the following morning. It was misty, to say the least, but we wouldn't allow the weather to dampen our spirits. This weekend was a gift from a very dear friend of Eric's family. On our wedding day, she gave us a weekend retreat to the island in a four-bedroom cottage that she normally rents out during the summer months. We were so grateful for a weekend away for just the two of us--the first trip we had taken alone since our honeymoon exactly one year prior.

Eric dragged our suitcase along the dirt road all the way to the cottage that would be our home for the next two days. We wasted no time. We explored the house and each little room and then laced our sneakers to explore the island.

As we were walking towards the center of town--which consists of nothing more than a restaurant or two, an ice cream parlor, an inn and a convenience store--it began to rain. Initially, I was disappointed as I had dressed sporty and cute for the occasion! But after breakfast, we found what we thought was the perfect solution: an Umbrella Museum.

You read correctly. This tiny little shop that was open by appointment only, just happened to be open as we walked by. This little old lady (okay, she wasn't that old), welcomed us in and showed us the umbrellas for purchase. $6.50? Deal. Before we left, we explored the walls, covered with a wide variety of umbrella covers. Odd ones, sexy ones (yes, that was her label), and enormous ones. And then, when it couldn't get more hysterical, she busted out an antique blue accordion and passed out sheet music. Before we knew what was happening, my husband and I were singing her umbrella theme song!

Priceless.

Within thirty minutes of leaving the little, one-room museum, our umbrella broke. By the end of the day, it had snapped in five different places. Three times we attempted to return the spindly contraption, but she was never there. Needless to say, the pictures captured with the finicky umbrella were priceless. Not only did it collapse on my head more than once, it folded inside out of itself with a slight breeze.

That night we bought mini pizzas to bake at the cottage and, quite naturally, one of the personal pan pizzas got stuck to the oven door and flipped over only to burn on the bottom of the oven. We managed to save everything but the cheese, so my sweet husband was forced to endure a cheese-less, pepperoni-less personal pan pizza for dinner.

The highlight of the evening? Sharing a pint of Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough ice cream in bed while watching this surprisingly good movie on what must have been a twelve inch screen.

By day two, it was no more than sixty degrees. Having anticipated seventy degree weather, I had packed t-shirts and even a little sundress. By early afternoon we were perusing the gift shop for discount sweatshirts. It just so happens that we both bought one and we consider them souvenirs. Oh, and we bought a Christmas ornament. The only delicate ornament amongst the clunky, grandma-looking ones.

Unfortunately, despite what the brochure indicated, we did not end up riding the horses. Initially I was disappointed, but I had already so enjoyed our honeymoon-esque weekend. We went to pet the horses instead and explored the barren World War II barracks on the other side of the island. We combed the beach, search for sea glass, skipped rocks, made silly videos, captured tons of pictures, endured the rain, got soaked, lost Eric's glasses, found Eric's glasses, ran out of toilet paper, and shivered in the middle of June.

Yes, it wasn't exactly what we had planned, but it was an incredible weekend nonetheless and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

And to top it off, in honor of the first anniversary being paper, I surprised Eric with a map of the world, complete with tacks that mark every adventure we have gone on together. There may be only a few tacks now, but I can only imagine the places we'll go in the years to come and the places we'll explore together, as best friends.

sunshine.

2011-05-29T16:30:00.001-04:00

I cannot believe my husband and I are approaching our first anniversary. We have been together for nearly three and a half years and have been married for almost one. It absolutely blows me away. The way that we have grown in our love together, floors me. The bonding, secret confessions, and the memories we have created together are worth far more than anything this world could ever offer.

There is strength in numbers. Particularly the number two. I am more equipped, confident, and effective when I have Eric by my side. As husband and wife, we are one and we are an unstoppable force.

Last night as we lay on top of the sheets, entirely exhausted by a day spent traveling about New Hampshire visiting family, I was overcome with appreciation and admiration for my husband.

"You could have had anyone in the world, and you chose me," I whispered, melting into his strong arms.

"But I wanted you," he said.

"Why?"

"Because you are the best one," he said, giving me his signature boyish grin.

I love that man. I am am so humbled and honored that of all the women in the world, he chose to ask for my hand in marriage. As I watch our wedding videos on re-run, I am engulfed by the memories and the emotions of that day. And as I reflect on those special moments, my heart flutters knowing that the years to come will be even greater. Because we are closer, deeper, and more relaxed in our relationship with one another. I didn't think I could be more in love, but God continues to surprise me by increasing my love for my husband. I didn't think I could be more emotionally closer to my husband, but we have reached depths in one year that I never could have imagined. Marriage truly is a gift. It should be cherished and applauded and celebrated. Not just on the wedding day, but every day. Every moment.

I pray that in this coming year, we will be challenged, we will grow closer to our Heavenly Father, and that we will do more for Him together than we could ever do apart. God is teaching me more and more that the only way I can love Eric-Thomas with every crevice of my heart is to engulf my mind and my heart with Christ--my first love. I must align my heart to His and grow closer to my Savior or I will never love my husband the way God intended. The more I grow in my relationship with Christ, the more my love for Jesus spills over into my interactions with my husband.

It is a sheer joy and honor to be married to such an incredible man of God. I can only hope that I give him as much as he so lovingly gives me.

Although our anniversary is two weeks away, I feel like celebrating. Right now. There's no need to wait. Especially in a culture that views marriage as a relational trial run. If it doesn't work, end it. If you aren't satisfied, leave it. If you aren't happy, abandon it. It was never meant to be that way.

So I vow to celebrate my marriage. Every day. Regardless of circumstance. Maybe this year will be even better than the first, although I can hardly imagine it. For a while now I have grown sad knowing that the first year is coming to a close. Why? Because it has exceeded my wildest dreams and I can't imagine it getting any better! But God has surprised me countless times... I can only imagine what He has up His sleeves.

beauty.

2011-05-23T07:59:00.001-04:00

I still cannot believe that I am married. Like, really married to a prince. I am living a fantastical, incomprehensible dream. I wake up next to the most lovable husband and still think, "I can't believe he chose me."

I am so eternally blessed to be so head over heels with the man that God intended for me. I am so blessed that he supports me, encourages me, and pushes me towards goals that seem insurmountable. He challenges me in my walk with Christ, guides me in my decision making, loves me through my weaknesses, and romances me with sweet texts and kisses on the forehead.

To be married to Eric-Thomas is a constantly evolving adventure. It's the most incredible feeling in the world and I pray everyone gets to experience love like this.

To be walking hand in hand with the greatest gift I've ever known... to be awed daily by the attention and affection of a man so out of my league... is a amazing. It's thrilling. It's God-breathed.

Thank you, dear Lord, for this incredible gift. Thank you for trusting me with your precious child. I promise You that will care for him with the greatest adoration. Please help me learn to love with more affection and grace than my human heart can put forth. I pray that I will draw close to your heart so that the love that we share will spill over into Eric-Thomas' heart. Thank you for blessing the broken road that lead me straight to my prince's heart.

Bless him today. Bless his heart. And draw him closer to You. In Your name, Amen.

serve.

2011-05-20T11:19:00.000-04:00

I tell myself that I have a thick skin. That I repel crass words and that I'm not internally bruised by harsh remarks and criticism. But I realized this week that it's a total lie. A complete facade. I thought that my years in the service industry prepared me for the critique I would one day face in other areas of life--as a wife, employee, daughter, and friend. No. Not so much. At one point, I became a bit calloused and stiff... I would shrug things off, say it didn't matter, and then go home with the words echoing in my mind, repeating themselves like a broken record.

It's hard to remember what Jesus thinks of you when others have nothing nice to say at all. It's hard to remember Who you're working for and Who has your greatest interest at heart. I came across Colossians 3:23-24 today:

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart,

as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you

will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.

It is the Lord Christ you are serving.

Yes, that is Who I serve. And in the end, His opinion of me is the only one that matters. But it is so easy to let the criticism and sarcasm of other people get under your skin and muddy the waters of your self-esteem. It's so easy to doubt yourself and your purpose.

In the end, I am encouraged by the words of Chris Tomlin: And if Our God is for us, then who could ever stop us; And if our God is with us, then what can stand against?

Come into my office any day of the week and you'll probably hear that song on repeat! It's my all time favorite worship song and it still gives me chills every time I hear the bridge. I raise my hands in my office while I'm reading over text that needs proofing and editing and praise the One whom my heart adores. I love Him. I don't show Him nearly enough and perhaps I am not leaning on Him which is why the words of the world are leaving scars.

I know I need improvement. I know I need critique. I know I need to sit before the Lord's feet more often and have one of our Daddy-daughter dates. Perhaps then, negativity won't hurt so much. And even though my skin remains soft, my heart will be strengthened knowing that my God is greater and stronger than any other and He has my best interests at heart.

Because at the end of the day, I go home knowing I served the Lord as best I could. And that is enough.

crazy.

2011-05-13T13:57:00.002-04:00

This week has been turbulent to say the least. Between bad news, a lay off at work, lots of tears as a result of the lay off, an increased work load as a result of the lay off, continued mechanical issues with my car, the washing machine ripping my brand new pants, the landlord refusing to fix the washing machine, and drama that could have otherwise been avoided, I'm mentally exhausted.

And I have to walk 40 miles this weekend.

Yes, the Avon Breast Cancer Walk is upon us and my mom and I leave tonight to begin a journey that will forever change us.

In 2009, we walked with my mom's diagnosis looming over us. Having already been through some procedures and emotionally draining appointments, the opening and closing ceremonies consisted of many tears and shuddering shoulders. This year, however, I am proud to say that we are walking in light of my mom's remission!

Although there was a scare just a couple months ago, the Lord was faithful and proved that even MRI scans can be wrong--or that what they portrayed could be removed with a quick whisper from His lips.

Tonight, we arrive in Boston to check in for the walk and then will dine out with my husband for some much needed relaxation before our 5 a.m. wake up call. Then we will return to the hotel, and most likely, go right to sleep.

Our wake up call will come before the sun even peeks its head over the horizon and we will shower, dress, and grab our gear before jumping a bus that will take us to opening ceremonies. We will be cheered, encouraged, stretched, and moved and then we will walk. A lot. An entire marathon's distance to be exact--over 26 miles. I will be passing mile marker number one before you even wake up Saturday morning.

For many of you, I will be gleefully skipping past mile number five before you roll out of bed. By mile 10? Well, I may not skip along. I may be putting my hands on my knees and asking someone to pass the Gatorade. But we will conquer. Because that is what my mom and I do. We resist and we put on our battle gear and we fight the fight that God has laid out before us.

We have both had our struggles with illness, and we have both emerged victorious by God's supernatural grace and power. This walk will not only be physically challenging, it will be emotionally rewarding. I cannot wait to cross that finish line, throw my hands up in the air, wrap my mom in a hug, and see my husband standing off in the distance cheering and screaming my name.

I will sleep soundly that night knowing that I did something that mattered--I did something that counted. And so did each of you who so generously donated to this walk, so that we can further the research being done to find a cure for breast cancer. And those of you who have been praying have been equally instrumental.

I walk for my mom, your mom, your friend, your sister, your niece, your daughter, your granddaughter, your grandmother, your babysitter, your housekeeper, your aunt, and your cousins, and as someone who is at high-risk for breast cancer, I also walk for myself.

Your names will be on my heart for the next 40 miles.

moments.

2011-05-04T23:00:00.000-04:00

I never thought it would happen to me, but it did. Life's undertow quietly lured me into the depths of stress, work, and the trivial. A couple days ago I woke up and realized I hadn't immersed myself in God's Word in nearly a week. My husband and I had become youth leaders and were attending church related activities nearly four days per week. It was heaven on earth, and yet, in the midst of new responsibilities, I had managed to neglect the One whom I was serving.

It's funny how that happens, isn't it? I remember my pastor saying that he feared becoming a full-time pastor and a part-time follower of Christ. I think, as Christians, we all fear this to some degree. Between the stress at work, deadlines, volunteer work, and other responsibilities, Jesus gets lost between activities. I have to remember that Jesus was far more impressed with Mary who sat by His feet, than with Martha who was scurrying about her house in an effort to "do" a number of tasks to accommodate him.

In that same regard, I think it is easy to get lost in the tasks of the day. The saturation of love and romance on the aftermath of the honeymoon is suddenly drowned by responsibilities and commonalities. Certainly it is no less important or blissful... but it collides so well with the outside world that the intimate, cute, and sweet moments are not celebrated as often.

Don't misunderstand me. I am so very much in love and in awe of my new husband. I am infatuated by his love and his character. He is my whole universe--I wouldn't be me without him. But sometimes, when areas of your world outside your marriage are crumbling, those sweet moments are taken for granted. For instance, this past Saturday we went for a stroll about the neighborhood talking about all sorts of things: work, hopes of travel, and the home we are saving up for. Then we played catch with those silly Velcro mitts in the driveway and laughed and chided and giggled until we were sweaty and bug-bitten. Those are the moments I live for. It's in those moments that I find true joy.

So for now, I'm going to set aside the stresses of my workplace environment and circumstances outside of my control and bask in the two things that remain forever constant: My Savior and my prince charming. I will digest the Word of God and I will relish the moments when my husband kisses me on the forehead and whispers goodnight.

Because those are the moments--the memories--that last forever.

risen.

2011-04-24T07:55:00.000-04:00

I gently rolled over, pulling the covers with me and peered at the clock: 6:00 a.m. So early. But as the fog slowly dissipated from my head, I realized very quickly that it was Easter morning. The sun had hardly made a presence, but the birds were already well into their morning routine. I gradually slipped from the covers, making note that it was a miracle I had woken up unintentionally. I had Easter eggs to hide.

Quietly, as not to wake my sleeping prince, I gathered the eggs I had stuffed the night before and began giddily waltzing about the apartment hiding one purple egg there and another blue egg over there. Now that I'm married, this holiday is entirely different, I surmised. Not only did I have to wake early to hide Easter eggs, but I had to hide his Easter basket in the laundry room--he'd never go there!

Impressed by my overall creativity in hiding places, I scurried back down the hall and slipped into bed. My sweet husband rolled over and gave me that squinty look from behind tired eyes. My eyes danced back, suddenly unable to sleep, thrilled that another "first married" holiday had arrived.

I continued to lay there, staring at the peppered ceiling, realizing very quickly that I would not be able to fall back to sleep. Rather disappointed by these new circumstances, I rolled back on to my side, my movement waking Eric from his sleep.

Craning his neck to see the clock he looked at me perplexed.

"What are you doing up so early? It's 5:30."

"It's 6," I said.

"Right. What are you doing up so early?"

"I don't know. I can't sleep."

"How can you be so awake? I am so exhausted."

He got up, used the restroom, came back and pulled the covers over his face.

I was jealous. I wanted to sleep too, but I couldn't seem to find that relaxed state of mind. And then suddenly, it dawned on me. Like a gentle whisper, I came to understand that yes, it was miraculous that I had woken up early... but not to hide Easter eggs. To spend time with Jesus, who, on this very morning rolled away the stone to His own grave.

Newly energized, I slipped out of bed and threw on my sneakers. I grabbed my husband's iPod and set the play list to Chris Tomlin's powerful worship melodies. I wrote a quick note on an index card and left it on my husband's night stand. I went for a walk, sweetie. I think I woke up early so that I could spend some time with Jesus. Happy Easter. Love, your wife.

The three mile walk was glorious. The damp fog hovered over the dew-stained grass and the sun was barely peeking through the large pine trees lining the street.

My Savior lives, my Savior loves...

As I walked, my heart sang along with Chris Tomlin. As I walked, I relished in the beauty of the early morning--something I hadn't noticed in quite some time. As I rounded the bend of the cul-de-sac, the sun burst through the fog and lit up the paved path before me. Walking toward the sun, I couldn't help but praise His name. It was if I was walking directly towards Him. He lives, He lives, He lives.

This very morning we will celebrate His resurrection. Three days after His horrific torture, the grave could no longer contain Him. I imagine that He too woke early, while the rest of the world was sleeping, just to bask in the completion of God's will.

This morning, at 6 a.m. I had the most wonderful encounter with Christ. He has redeemed me. He has redeemed you. And He is anxious to draw you into Him. I had felt distant from my Jesus as of late, but this morning, I felt Him holding my hand. He was so close, so intimate. It was like a romantic date as He wooed me with revelations of what happened that Easter morning 2,000 years ago.

I prayed then, and I pray now that Jesus would draw me into His warm embrace, that He will hold me against His chest so that I can hear His heart beat. I pray that He will reveal Himself today in the same way that He did to the apostles and to Mary on the day of His resurrection. I pray that people see Him today just like I saw Him this morning while the rest of the world slept.

Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead.

cross.

2011-04-22T15:36:00.000-04:00

Today, the thunder rolled, the sky went black and my Savior said, "It is finished" before His chin hit His chest and He gave His last breath.

I woke up this morning like it was any other day. Tired, groggy, dragging my naked feet to the kitchen to pack my husband's lunch and brew a cup of coffee. It was Friday, which meant this morning was better than Monday morning. But there was nothing special about it. It was just... morning. And I was tired having had to stay at work late the night before.

I hustled to work, my hair still went at the nape of my neck, weaved through traffic and jogged up the steps of the office building. I swung open the door, said hello to the receptionist and then placed my belongings on the window sill of my office--my tiny, little office. I worked on a number of edits, crafted a new letter for a client, filed, typed, and huddled around my space heater.

And then it hit me--Over 2,000 years ago, Jesus, my Jesus, was already dead. He had already suffered. He was already flogged, and He was already nailed to a wooden beam. I was so busy last night gathering the last remainders of Easter basket goodies, that I managed to misplace the real reason for this celebration with friends and family. On Sunday, my Savior rose from the dead. And He even appeared to a woman first--just like me.

The Easter eggs, the bunny ears, and especially the Peeps are all wonderful things that come with an Easter celebration. There is often spiraled ham, early dinners, and a delightful, homemade dessert. These are all wonderful characteristics of this pastel holiday, but I find that too often, I let this holiday pass without giving proper attention to my Savior's gift.

Early in the morning, a crown of thorns was shoved atop His head. He was tied to a pole of some sort and flogged with whips containing metal balls, glass, and sharp edging. Historians articulate that His flesh was ripped apart, His organs exposed and His intestines, possibly, spilling out of his abdomen. Quite often, the accused would not even make it past the flogging because the brutality was so horrific. But my Savior survived the flogging and was then instructed to drag his own cross through the streets and up the hill where He would be crucified. I wonder what the Roman soldier was thinking as he drove thick, railroad-like nails through the hands of this loving and compassionate man. His screams must have reverberated in every dream, in every thought.

And as my Jesus pushed on His pierced feet for each inhale, I wonder what John, who was standing below, was thinking. I imagine he was praying that God would take His son quickly, to spare Him of such agony.

When he breathed His last and His spirit was taken up, I imagine there was a sigh of relief from those watching Him. I would have been thankful that His suffering was over.

And how much more intense would my joy be when I saw Him three days later! To see that He was, in fact, the Son of the most high God. I imagine that I would have believed much sooner than that, but to see Him walk about and show Himself to me would be a miraculous moment and a moment of utter peace, void of any doubt.

Our Jesus, my Jesus, was crucified today. But on Sunday, I will celebrate His resurrection. And I will rejoice. And I will get down on my knees and lift my hands up high and thank Him for such a wonderful gift--a gift I more often than not, take for granted.

I pray you will too.

thoughts.

2011-03-30T14:18:00.000-04:00

I struggle with a lot of things. But one seemingly insignificant quandary that I often contend with is in regards to my writing.

Why do I write? Why do I write publicly?

I recently read a blog that posed this very question, and I must say, I agree entirely with her deduction. I shudder at the mere threat of vulnerability, yet there is this longing to be heard, to be understood. Though a blog is, in essence, a public viewing of my disorganized thoughts, it is also a place to process my ideas and discoveries. Though I do not presume that anyone is interested in or concerned with the matters of my mind, I write publicly for personal gratification and the sublime sense that somewhere in the world, I am heard.

Although documenting my thoughts, travels, and discoveries may seem like a poor use of time, to me, it's essential to my well-being. If memories, experiences, and defining moments--even heartbreak--were lost amid the hustle and bustle of everyday life, there would have been no purpose to the event or emotion. By extracting the nuggets of hope, grace, and purpose, they can be applied to future endeavors.

I often fear that in the midst of appointments, schedules, work and expectations, that I'll lose the memories and events that have crafted who I am. If we are distracted from those "God moments"... those precious in-between moments... and don't archive those brief junctures, we risk forgetting. No moment, no epiphany, no whispered word does any good if it is lost beneath the noise of busyness.

I have witnessed a lot, I have experienced a tremendous amount, and I have loved without bounds. To let those encounters go to waste would rid them of purpose.

Blogging is an odd phenomenon, and yet, it is so attractive. A place, a tablet, designed for the heart's expression. Throughout the centuries, writers have experimented the imperfection of thought, human intrigue, the abstruseness of romance, and the chastening passage of time. But now, we blog. It's messy, it often lacks substance, and it is rarely revolutionary. But it's there. And that's what matters.

talk.

2011-03-09T08:11:00.000-05:00

I talk a lot (shocking). I talk with words. I blabber my emotions. And I talk on paper. I arguably portray myself best on paper simply because I can see what I say and erase it before it gets before the eyes and ears of others. Consider yourself moderately blessed by this ;]

That being said, anyone who knows me understands that my greatest fear--next to being put in a small box with a million spiders--is public speaking. I noticeably shake. Like, my whole body vibrates at a rapid pace. These are not small eruptions that come and go throughout the course of speaking, it is a constant trembling that makes my voice sound awkward and my hands sweat. I may only need to speak before 10 people, but that's 20 eyeballs. Staring, wanting, and expecting greatness. Talk about pressure. I'm that person you get nervous for when they stand up and approach the podium. I'm the one you are praying for: Please don't let her make a fool out of herself, Lord, you pray. Yes, that's me.

Now, here's the kicker. So, God may have gifted me with written words and He may have called me to write a book, but I never really felt the call to speak. However, after a conversation with the youth pastor at my church about the book I'm writing, he may consider extending the senior high's relationship series and have me as a GUEST SPEAKER. As in, next week.

What?!

I approached him with a very specific question. After approaching a number of individuals for their advice and guidance, I felt more clouded than ever. God finally spoke to me (very clearly): HE was the wisest person I could ever consult! So rather than accumulating a variety of opinions on a very sensitive and controversial topic, why not go to the One who wrote the law in the first place! His opinion is the only one that truly matters (a difficult concept for me to grasp sometimes). Essentially, if I go to other people, it's as if I'm playing telephone. You know the game--someone starts off by saying something and then passes along to someone else? By the time it gets to the last person, the message is jargon at best. God revealed to me that by going to a number of people, I was ignoring the Source. The people I have approached, though well meaning and very helpful at times, are deriving their opinions from what they have learned so far--from the Bible, books, and other sources. So that means, I am hearing from a person, who learned from a book, whose author did research through other books already on the market, and the authors of those books pulled their information from God's Word. So, I was going through a number of sources and it would only seem logical that the message would eventually become clouded with opinions.

So God showed me to seek others' opinions, but take them lightly. Seek wise counsel--and seek it from Him. Especially if I claim this book is His! Does that make sense? I am certainly not disregarding the opinions of others. I simply need to take them as they are--opinions. I need to use God's Word as my hard evidence and approach the subject with a fresh mind.

Anyways, back to the story. I wanted this pastor to tell me one thing: what topics should be covered in my book that he sees his youth group struggling with? I wanted the topics, so I could perform thorough research on what was relevant to this generation--I don't want to miss anything important.

One thing lead to another and I started babbling on about my intentions for the book and how it was a spiritual burden, but a blessing to be called into God's purpose. I explained how there are a number of great sources on the market, but I wanted to take a different approach to target the hearts of young women (and men too!)

By the conversation's end, he said he may like me to speak to the group. My first thought was: heck no! My second thought was: Dang it, mom was right. Mom has always said that I would one day speak to young women, but I disregarded her silliness.

Well, looks like I need to start really writing. I think this is God's way of putting on the pressure haha. Love Him, but jeez louise...I hope He knows what He is doing! ;)

work.

2011-02-26T12:23:00.000-05:00

I can't believe the opportunity has finally presented itself. Despite a number of rejections from several well-to-do companies, I have landed a job that combines my love for the Lord with my passion for writing. Though I may not have the years of experience some editors may have, this company has put their faith in me to deliver results. And I intend to do just that.

On Thursday, I began my first day with Inspired Direct, LLC in downtown Nashua--a direct marketing agency that supports today's heroes of faith and missions by providing creativity and strategy that is rooted in God-inspired design and direct response marketing that is data-driven, Biblically sound and brilliantly executed.

Already, I have read and edited the personal stories of orphans and sex trafficking victims. The team, though small, is so bonded in their mission and I am thrilled to be part of such a group of people. For them, this is a major transition. Two of their five employees resigned at the same time after a number of years of service. It's as if their family was divorced in some way and now they have to get used to new faces and adjust to the way our personal organization and execution is different from those before us. I give them credit for that, but I am so excited to prove how I can benefit this organization.

There is certainly going to be a learning curve. Though I have my own office (so cool!) and a giant window, I also have a Mac computer that is going to be difficult to figure out at first. Though I am familiar with InDesign, I have never used InCopy--the company's major software editing tool. There's much to learn, but I'm thrilled to expand my skill set.

Side note. Allow me to take a brief moment to talk about my husband (this shouldn't surprise you). When I came home from my first day of work, I walked into a dark house with only a flicker of light coming from the table. When I turned on the kitchen light, there was my husband, arms open wide, candles lit, dinner prepared and the camera capturing the moment. "Surprise! Congratulations, Samantha!" he said. In the more than three years that I have known my sweet husband, he has never attempted cooking a meal. But there in front of me, for the very first time, was a home-cooked meal with my taste in mind: marinated baked chicken and a garden salad complete with sparkling cider. Attached to my chair was a hand-written sign that read "Congratulations Samantha!!" and the table was adorned with a beautiful bouquet of red roses. You see, earlier that week he was concerned that he had not shown his excitement for me in a way that I could translate. He isn't the type to jump up and down screaming (as I do), and he wanted to ensure that he knew just how proud he was of me. Can you be any sweeter?! To top it off, he bought a small heart-shaped cake with scribbled congratulations on top and he even bought me a new business outfit (another first for him!). I must say, he's got good taste and a fantastic memory. I had tried the clothes on previously, but they were too expensive. He went back the following day, and low and behold, they were on sale! He even remembered the correct sizes.

I don't care what anyone else says, he wins "Best Husband of the Century" award and I'm the most blessed wife there ever was : )

[End of side note]

Time and time again, God tells me to trust Him with His plans. Though I went without a full-time job for months upon months, God saw that this position would open up and allowed my resume to be overlooked and disregarded by other companies. Throughout the whole job searching process, I asked that He please shut the doors if the opportunity was meant for someone else. But isn't it ironic that when those doors do close, we wonder why? We're strange creatures, really.

When this job opportunity arose, I just kept my emotions in check--anticipating nothing positive to come from the interviewing process so as to not be disappointed when I was rejected for the 4,820,468 time. But once I met with the team, my hunger for the position grew. But I gave it up to the Lord, praying that the right person would be selected for the position, regardless of whom it was. How humbled I felt when I was offered the job!

As this coming week will be my first full week in my new position, the president will be in Guatemala interacting with orphans and engaging in the community. How cool is that? What a blessing to be a part of something that is world-changing.

I am truly looking forward to the future of this position and praying that God equips me with what I need to successfully execute projects. I encourage you to do the same. I know many of my friends are looking for a career change or job placement, and I can't encourage them enough to give that desire and that transition to the Lord. He really will surprise you with the end result.

faith.

2011-02-17T18:13:00.001-05:00

When something terrifying and unexpected occurs, it is natural to turn to the Lord. Especially if you profess Him as your Savior. But isn't it strange how so often we neglect His comfort, His strength, and His wisdom until those devastating moments occur? I know I am guilty of this. When things are going well, I keep up with my quiet times, my daily devotionals and my prayer time, but how often do I press into Him as though my entire being depends on His guidance?

Living in the culture that we do I think we often feel like we should cling to Him only when necessary. That if we are able to carry the burdens of life by own strength than we ought to. In our subconscious I think we believe we are giving God the chance to help those who are in more dire circumstances. How foolish. How much better off would we be if we listened to Him when He said to seek His face always (1 Chronicles 16:11)? Or when He warned us not to rely on our own strength but to trust Him from the bottom of our hearts. He called us to listen for God's voice in everything we do, everywhere we go (Proverbs 3:5). If we did this during the good times, as we do in troubling times, how much complete would we be? How much more efficient for Christ would we be?

As I write, our family is walking through a valley, riding over a speed bump, and climbing up over a mountain. Whichever expression you wish to use, we are facing one of the many trials we will face during our marriage. I am confident that Christ will fulfill His promise and lead us through these uncertain moments and I am confident that my marriage will grow in ways it couldn't have before.

And I know this: that God works all things together for good for those who love Him (Romans 8:28). But be sure you understand that this promise comes with a condition. We are to love God with all of our beings and press into Him in all circumstances, no matter what the cost to our pride. Not just when we need a miracle or a get-out-of-jail free card--but in every moment.

If you love Christ the way that I adore Him, let us take advantage of the relationship He has so generously given us. Let us develop a friendship and a deep, committed, intimate relationship with the Creator. Don't assume He wants to test your strength by having you carry the heavy end. You aren't a superhero despite how often you try to prove it.

From one sister in Christ to another (and to my brothers in Christ too!), let us put aside our pride and press into the One who has forged a plan for us. Let's prove to Him that we do trust Him. In the easy times, in the hard times, in the mundane times, in the not-so-spectacular times, in the decision making, in the illnesses, with our dreams, with our families, and with our hearts. There is no greater gift you could give Him. I promise.

sweet.

2011-02-09T11:57:00.000-05:00

There are few moments more precious than a touch, a deep gaze or a soft turn of the lips. And there's no greater feeling than when those brief, unanticipated seconds of admiration come from a husband. When he cups your face and traces the lines of your lips with his fingertips and leaves the space between you silent; when he pulls you in for a hug; when he brushes your hair from your face; when he calls you beautiful.

A husband is many things. He's the socks on the floor, the stealer of the covers, the smile on the cell phone and the scent on the pillow. He's a hug at the door, a prayer before bed, and a big, cozy blanket. He's a good morning kiss and a "honey, I miss ya."

A husband is so many beautiful things, but one thing he often isn't, is vulnerable. But when he is, it's tender and sweet.

Just last night, my strong husband held me close and traced every line, every curve of my face and just stared. Silently. A song from my playlist permeated the silence, and when I finally asked him what he was thinking, I was touched.

"I'm just taking it all in," he said. "So often, I'm in my own little world, in my own head and I don't take enough time to just...take it in. And then I was thinking about how I'll be doing this when we're 80 and thinking the very same thing."

Love--true love--is worth every risk. The view from the edge, the very peak, is exhilarating, beautiful and magnificent. Moments spent there take your breath away and make you feel truly alive. Its moments like these that hover and remain for so much more than a moment.

Don't harden your heart and shield yourself from the possibilities of a lifetime romance, a romance inspired by our Father. Don't settle, protect your heart, but when that person comes along, don't be afraid to believe in the power of love and the beauty of simplicity.

Despite what the world claims, love can last forever.

"Love is invincible facing danger and death.
   Passion laughs at the terrors of hell.
The fire of love stops at nothing—
   it sweeps everything before it.
Flood waters can't drown love,
   torrents of rain can't put it out."

Song of Solomon 8:6-8

attaining the unattainable.

2011-02-01T20:35:00.002-05:00

Romance has been defined as the offspring of fiction. It’s our deep human quest to find the unattainable perfect match. We will ransack the world and rummage through the past and go great distances in search of it. In the best of circumstances, we want that ideal relationship, freckled with small flaws of course, but ones that characterize its uniqueness. The man, in his boyhood, wants to be the hero—the knight in shining armor who will rescue the damsel in distress. We ladies want to be that damsel. We want a hero to sweep us off our feet, to rescue us from all uncertainty and give us secure freedom and a safe place to call home.

As little girls, we spent time fictionalizing the future. We played with dolls, helped mom bake cookies, twirled among the flowers in bare feet and pink frilly dresses; we idolized Cinderella and all that she was. We dreamed in fairytales and castles in the sky.

The boys played with race cars and climbed trees and got their hands dirty. They returned from the playground messy--caked in mud and filth. They declared war on each other’s makeshift fortresses and aimed their cap guns in defiance. They pretended to be cops or robbers or superman while the little girls dressed up as princesses.

Perhaps this is where the romantic idealism was birthed. The classic fairytale originated at our age of innocence--before we were inflicted with the world’s lies and offensive indulgences and transgressions. Yet the more life I experience, the more I witness the world settling for less than their childhood dreams.

Perhaps because romance has been fictionalized in literature, we subconsciously believe our childhood ideals are frivolous and far-fetched. Perhaps we learn from society that we should maintain a realistic approach; the world is an ugly place and nothing beautiful and pure could possible emerge from a people so corrupt by popular culture. What a myth and a façade we have fallen for. Perfection does not exist, this I am aware of. But to say that something so pure and lovely cannot emerge from the rubble of our past is absurd. What more proof of God’s existence than to wait patiently for the one He’s chosen just for you?

Sure, perfection is unattainable. But finding everything your heart desires in another human being? Possible. Why would God put on our hearts such romantic idealisms and hunger for another heart that beats the same rhythm if it was impractical? My God does not tinker with my mind. He does not author confusion and disappointment. He longs for me to be happy and content and on fire for Him. He is my first love. And if I am burning with passion for my Heavenly Father, why would He refrain from providing me with that tangible soul to share that type of love with?

If it weren’t possible, why would Christ command husbands and wives to love each other as He loves the church? If it weren’t possible, then why was God so in love with His children that He sacrificed His own son on our behalf? Christ sacrificed His own life because He was so infatuated with us. He loved us unconditionally. His love is the model for marriages and ingredient for a permanent romance. Christ’s love never dies. It never fails.

True love never fails.

Romance is not an offspring of fiction. Romance is an offspring of truth.

snow.

2011-01-21T16:34:00.000-05:00

I was tired. He was too exuberant for my taste. But regardless, we did some Google-searching and landed upon what seemed like a nice alternative to our typical evening routine. I slipped my eighth grade purple snow pants over my new jeans, zipped up my purple jacket, donned a scarf and a pair of mittens, stuffed my feet into my boots and meandered out the door. Needless to say, I looked like a purple jellybean.

Destination: Roby Park.

Eric looked about the same as I did, only "cooler" with his black snowboarding pants and dark jacket. I looked like I had stepped off an elementary school bus. No shame. We arrived at our destination within ten minutes and instantly my little-girl reactive instincts took hold.

"Cooooool!" I shouted, beaming a pearly smile. Right before us were a number of school-aged children and some not-so-school-aged adults using homemade sleds and blow up tubes to sail down this snow covered hill. A mountain really--it was huge.

We leaped out of the car and pulled the $5 snow tube I gave Eric for Christmas out of the back seat and jogged from the parking lot to the peak of the hill. It was a long way down. Ice-layered divots and bumps checkered the slope in so many places that I knew avoiding them would be impossible. A nose bleed, a broken bone or at least a high speed wipe out was a guarantee.

As only a good wife would do, I made Eric make the near-death experience first. Off he went, a million miles an hour, sailing down the slope. By the time he reached the bottom I had to squint my eyes to see him wave a mittened hand in my direction. Oh good. He's alive.

He returned to the top in no time and made me sit between his legs on the sled. My bum was barely covering a suitable surface area and my legs were like massive planks hanging off the side. A tube meant for one was now carrying two. He pushed us off and within seconds, I was screaming bloody murder. We whisked around the hill, spinning and twirling in all directions, my hair a flurry of tangles in my husband's face. We cruised along the outstretched field at the base of the hill and finally came to a stop I couldn't quit giggling. We fell backwards off the sled and landed in the puffy, shin deep snow. We stared at the velvet colored sky decorated with twinkling stars and for a moment, I felt like a child. No deadlines, no pressures, no bills. Just the thrill of a snow day with my very best friend.

We must have cruised down the hill twenty times before calling it a night. We tossed snow, threw snow balls and eventually wrecked the sled, ripping the bottom from the lining.

We came home and hung our snow gear up to dry before settling on the couch, snuggled up beneath blankets. I can honestly say that $5 has never bought so much fun. The still of the snow, the wonderment beneath the stars and the thrill of racing down an icy slope with the arms of my best friend around my waist...well, it doesn't get much better than that.

a while

2011-01-11T17:30:00.000-05:00

It's been just that: a while. Though I penned my thoughts on Christmas Eve so much has come and gone since then. New Years Eve was a riot in and of itself. As Eric and I donned our semi-formal attire to visit my parents and then spend an evening with comedy, dinner and dancing, the unexpected (naturally) occurred. As we were about twenty minutes from our apartment there was a strangle clinking sound coming from the undercarriage of the car. It was like a seen from a Will Farrell comedy: we both slowly turned our heads in the direction of the other when all of a sudden there was loud *ca-thunk* and Eric began yelling to pull over. It was a sound I couldn't ignore. Squeaky breaks were one thing...a loud *ca-thunk* was another.

Eric and I pulled over on the side of the road--a back road no less--and began walking down the road in the direction we had just come from. My husband pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed his uncle, a former mechanic, while I told passer-bys that No, we were fine; a huge chunk of metal just exploded from our car, that's all and No, sir, we don't need a ride.

Up ahead we spotted it. A small arc of black rusted metal. "This is it!" Eric said with half-hearted triumph. We sulked our way back to the car, sure that our evening plans were ruined. However, after Eric spoke with his uncle, we were delightfully surprised that based on the damage we described we were safe to drive back to the apartment and retrieve Eric's car. Success!

So our evening got off to a rather hairy start, but once we returned home, used the opportunity for a bathroom break and loaded our items into Eric's car, we managed to only be about an hour late to my parent's for a reheated lunch.

That evening we drove to downtown Portsmouth where we were eager to spend a night on the town just the two of us. We purchased tickets to an all night affair at the Marriot Hotel and by 7 p.m. were seated amongst fellow guests at our dinner table. The buffet that night was scrumptious and the dessert buffet? Well, let's just say I was so glad my New Year's resolution was still hours away.

After dinner we, along with about 100 or so other guests, enjoyed the comedic expressions of three performers. And--thanks to the Reilly luck that Eric so graciously inherited by marrying me--were picked on throughout the entire show. Thankfully, I have a stand-up husband who was not quick to embarrass me with their newlywed jokes and rather crude wife-mockery. In the end, we had a wonderful time and a photographer even approached us after the event to let us know our photo would be available on the website later in the week.

The couples at our table were super sweet, though older than us by a decade or two. And since we weren't afraid of making fools of ourselves on the dance floor--we did. And with pride. Eric performed his break dancing moves and at midnight we clinked glasses, took a small sip of champagne, pursed our lips at the dry, sour taste, and kissed beneath the disco lights.

Perfection.

I must admit, I was almost sad to see 2010 fall behind us. 2010 was our year. I married my prince charming, graduated college, moved to a new place, honeymooned in the Caribbean, celebrated the birth of my first nephew, and landed a great freelancing gig. As much as it sounds rather, melancholy, I cannot imagine a more sweeter, more joyous year.

But 2011 brings hope and promise as well. I intend to write that book, for one. I have started it, yes. But I am determined to overcome the nausea that prevents me from working on it daily. And naturally, I am eager to start studying God's Word at a deeper, more intimate level than I have before and use the knowledge and wisdom I gain from the Lord to be a better wife and life partner. I have no doubt that God has so many extraordinary things in store for my husband and I as we start our first full year as a family. The anticipation mounts each day as I see my successful husband come home each day with a smile and as I kiss him goodnight before falling asleep with his arms wrapped around me.

I am, quite possibly, the luckiest woman alive. It is an honor and a privilege to bear my husband's name. And yet, even still, I wake up every day shocked that I am actually married. And when the phone rings and the person on the other end asks for Mrs. Arroyo it still gives me chills. It is such a blessing to feel so in awe of the one you married. I revisit our wedding day through photos over and and over again and I am still mesmerized by the whole ordeal. I wouldn't trade my life for anything and I will protect the love I have for my husband for as long as I live. Though I am sad to see 2010 fall behind us, I am so eagerly anticipating what's in store for 2011.

Though I know it is a bit belated: Cheers! And Happy New Year, readers. May God bless you with the desires of your heart and may you grow in your relationship with Him in the coming year. <3

eve.

2010-12-24T09:14:00.000-05:00

I couldn't have asked for a more lovelier holiday season. Thanksgiving was a glorious day filled with family and friends and included an entire weekend of festivities. We cut down our Christmas tree that Saturday and I cannot believe how quickly the time passed since then.

Eric and I have been busy wrapping and shopping and putting together gifts for family and friends. Two nights ago, we baked a myriad of chocolate chip cookies and the following day (yesterday) I wrapped sets of two with Christmas tissue paper and slapped a bow on top of each. I then made little tags that read, "Merry Christmas! with love from your neighbors, Eric-Thomas and Samantha Arroyo at 20 Williams Drive." That afternoon, Eric came home early from work and we skipped through the neighborhood (okay, I skipped, he didn't) as we delivered cookies to all of our neighbors. Eric videotaped and I felt like Little Red Riding Hood with my white wicker basket chock full of goodies.

Last night, I tiptoed down the hallway and laid out all of Eric-Thomas' Christmas gifts. I spoiled him rotten. My gifts were not yet beneath the tree, and already they were spilling into the adjoining kitchen. Eric knew that my heart was somewhat disappointed knowing we would not wake up in our home on Christmas Day, so he made me hibernate in our bedroom while he stuffed my stocking and arranged my gifts beneath the tree. I was not allowed to venture outside our bedroom until the next morning.

At 8 a.m., after tossing and turning throughout the night, I whispered "Merry Christmas Eve..." in my husband's direction. He rolled over slowly and smiled. And then, with that boyish grin, said, "Do you want to see your gifts?"

Did he need to ask? He scurried out of bed and down the hall to inspect the situation. Chloe, our nutty kitten, managed to keep her paws off the gifts throughout the night. Without any damage or gifts that needed re-wrapping, Eric summoned me down the hall. I slowly creaked the door open and squinted my eyes to fully capture the scene located directly down the hallway.

"Oh. My. Goodness." Presents galore. Eric had moved the couch and the coffee table off to the side so that on Christmas afternoon we would have plenty of room to spread out and exchange gifts. Red, green, maroon and gold wrapping paper had exploded (in an organized fashion) throughout the room. Eric was videotaping, naturally, and I felt like a five year old as I gazed longingly at the stockings hung over the fireplace and the gifts spread beneath the tree. It was like Christmas morning.

Now we just have to wait for tomorrow. But I am more impatient this year than ever. Why? Because I can't wait to give Eric his gifts! I have spent a lot of time researching and shopping and navigating the stores to find him just the right items and I hope and pray that he enjoys each and every one of them. Some may be hit or miss, as he is a boy and boys are rather difficult to buy for. But I found no greater joy than sneaking into the house with bags of boxes from the department stores and ordering items online for my husband. I feel as though giving leaves a larger impact on the one giving than the one receiving.

I think Jesus would agree. Some may feel as though shopping and giving and buying and crafting unique gifts is a hassle. But I think God knew that if he commanded us to have a giving spirit, that in time, we would gather so much joy from it. And at the same time, giving never hurt the receiver. God is efficient, yes?

This Christmas season has already surprised and delighted me. Today we venture off to complete the "Seacoast Tour"--our sweet reference to traveling up and down the seacoast visiting friends and family. The first stop is my parents' house for Christmas Eve dinner, Christmas jammies and the candlelight service. Then it's straight to my husband's mom's house where we will spend the night. At 6 a.m. it's rise and shine and we'll gather downstairs with his mom, his aunt, and Jennifer and Tyson and my favorite little nephew. We'll stay there for a few hours and then book it to my parents house where we will repeat the process. Then back home by late afternoon where my husband and I will share in our very first Christmas.

What a joy and a gift to be married to my very best friend and to sincerely enjoy the company of our two families. The Christmas season has never brought so much joy and the New Year has never brought so much promise.

Merry Christmas.

For Us.

2010-12-17T16:43:00.000-05:00

If our God is for us, than who can stand against us?

It's such a bold statement, but it is so true, isn't it? And yet so often we fail to see the truth behind that statement. Our God is so big, so great, that we have nothing to fear but fear itself. Because fear is what will limit our approach and reliance on such a marvelous Savior. Check it out:

With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn't hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending His own son, is there anything else He wouldn't gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God's chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture.

None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.

Romans 8:31-39 The Message

Some may say that a lot can stand against you, but that having God on your team makes it bearable. I disagree. I think the entire situation is redefined. I don't think anything can be truly threatening in the presence of an enormous God. Certainly, our human mind cannot comprehend God's power, but by faith our hearts can succumb to the promise that He will never leave us or forsake us.

Our God is bigger, stronger, higher than any other. He is awesome in power and abounding in love. If God is for us, than who could ever stop us?

The answer is no one. You see, God's plan, in God's timing, is the best plan for your life. It is when we do things in our own time that we end up blaming God for not coming through. You may not believe that you are unstoppable for the kingdom of God because you tried that approach and it didn't work. I encourage you to ask yourself why it didn't work out as planned. Were you trying to manufacture a plan with God's name on it?

I know I have. I love planning my own life. I love searching for new jobs and opportunities and living one minute ahead of the present. My heart is never satisfied with the status quo--but sometimes that's where God wants you to sit for a while so He can make Himself known to you in a new way.

It's easy to lose your focus. But keep your eyes fixed above, because God sees you. He sees you. And He sees you as His precious child anxiously trying to follow in your father's footsteps. You want to be just like Him. He sees that, He knows that, and He will continue to watch over you as you grow into His phenomenal plan for your life.

book.

2010-12-10T19:12:00.000-05:00

I started my book today...

I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.

success.

2010-12-09T11:13:00.000-05:00

I can't count how many times my internal monologue has convinced me that I have no direction. And despite the small successes I have had within the pursuit of my career, I tend to believe the voice that says I have no career. Over and over and over again. But you see, it's silly. Because even though I may not make a considerable amount of money, even though I work from out of my home--or a coffee shop, a book store or a cafe, and even though Chloe, my crazy, neurotic kitten, may be the only live interaction I receive all day, I am doing what I love. Just this morning I received an e-mail from a man I interviewed who thanked me for giving a voice to his non-verbal student. He thanked me. And all I did was write the truth.

I suppose that's what I love--shining light into the dark corner of a room or a town or a home, and allowing the surrounding community to peek in to see something that they may not have otherwise seen. I get to share other people's stories. I share truth. And sometimes, I even get to share little miracles. And for a brief moment, I am a part of those individual's lives. I may just be the reporter, but I get to meet each person behind the scenes and share their thoughts, feelings and concerns that may have otherwise gone unheard.

Over the last few months I have put my value in the monetary contribution that I make to our household. I bring in nearly a third of what my husband makes--before taxes. Essentially, I pay for our student loans, and he pays for the rest. We live in a society where success is determined by the size of your paycheck. And for the past few months I have fallen into that trap. But success cannot be measured monetarily. Success is measured in the joy you have doing the work, in the interaction you have with other people, and how you impact others throughout the course of your work.

What is the point of success if your paycheck grows and you don't?

denomination.

2010-11-20T11:00:00.000-05:00

So often I am asked which denomination within the church I associate with. And I never know exactly what to say. It makes me tense up because I know the sensitivity of the subject matter and how so many good-intentioned people will get offended or put off dependent upon my answer.

You see, the fact of the matter is, I don't associate myself with any denomination. When I say this, the initial response is, "So you are non-denominational." Okay, maybe you can look at it that way. But non-denominational is quickly becoming its own sector within the church.

"I just love Jesus," I say. Done. Enough said.

You see, the sooner you mention a denomination assumptions are made. Let me give you an example. Since my husband and I moved to the Nashua area we have been attending Crossroads Baptist Church. We love it there. We have integrated ourselves into a young adults small group and have been growing in our faith. The pastors are phenomenal and down to earth. And the young people we have met are on fire for the Lord Jesus. But if I tell anyone outside our church family that we attend a Baptist church, internally they assume we oppose dancing and have a strict dress code. Well, I can tell you that my pastor wears jeans and the congregation sways, claps and jumps to the music during our services.

I then hear myself saying, "Oh, not that kind of Baptist church. That's more like the Southern Baptist churches." Um, did you just catch that? Even the Baptist church split off from one another to form their own denomination. Now we don't just have Baptist churches, we have Southern Baptist and Baptist churches.

It's disappointing. You see, I feel like so many associate themselves with a certain denomination or "religion" when really it is not about religion but about faith. There is an enormous difference. So many say they are Catholic or Protestant or Evangelical or Lutheran because they were born into a family that kept those doctrines. But faith is not inherited!

When God addressed His followers, he addressed the church. He did not address a particular denomination or impress doctrines upon them. Denominations are a man-made institution and was not God's intention for the church. He wanted the church to be the church. Period. He wanted us to be a united force so that we could more effectively minister to the world.

Rather, man has segregated the church to meet their own agenda. By no means am I suggesting that the church be lackadaisical in their approach to the interpretation of Scripture. Certainly their are guidelines within the Bible that are very clear and that the entire church body must submit to.

In Matthew 16:18, Jesus says, "I will build my church." Jesus invented it. He established it. He did not say, I will build the Baptist church or the Episcopalian church. He said, "I will build my church."

Certainly leaders within the church disagree. There is always room for interpretation as God's way are infinantly higher than our ways. That's where segration occurs. But it is important to note that God did not intend it to be this way. His intent was for one body working together for the good of His kingdom.

Can you even imagine what would happen if the church body came together as one? We could light the world on fire for Jesus Christ.

What's my "religion" you ask? Jesus is my religion. Jesus is my denomination. The Son of God, the Prince of Peace, the Jehovah, the King of Kings. He is my "religion." I follow His doctrine and His Word. Period.

walk.

2010-11-17T09:57:00.000-05:00

I'm walking for my mom, ladies and gents. Just a couple years ago she was diagnosed with breast cancer and in 2009 we participated in the Avon Walk For Breast Cancer in an effort to raise awareness and funds to accelerate research.

In 2011 we'll be at it again! But I can't do it without support from friends and family.

Visit my personal page to find out more: http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR?pg=personal&fr_id=2020&px=5830098

Thank you in advance for your encouragement and your prayers.

I love you mom. :]

tolerance.

2010-11-11T08:45:00.002-05:00

"My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry"
-James 1:19

So often we consider anger to be inherently evil. If someone is to become angry, it is often seen as a lack of self-control and the instigator of conflict. I know for myself that I have often viewed anger as sin--that good God-fearing individuals should refrain from such behavior.

Anger, in this verse, comes from the Greek word "orgh" which means "an excitement of the mind" or "movement or agitation of the soul" or "violent emotion." It can also mean impulse. These definitions refer back to the mind or the heart again and again. James is emphasizing the danger of bitterness growing roots within our hearts. Be slow to engage the mind in abhorrence--justifiable or not.

Our pastor a few weeks ago spoke of this and referred to this verse. It struck me when he said that so often anger is seen as a manifestation of bitterness--an outward expression. But rather, anger (or wrath in other translations) begins in the mind. Yes, it can lead to sin. But God calls us to refrain from such passions to inhibit wrongful actions.

It's a matter of always keeping yourself in check. Because anger can smolder for a long time before it becomes an outward expression of a harbored emotion. There is one person in particular that has hurt me time and time again. This person is close to me and yet, despite my failure to act out in anger, I have been harboring it unintentionally and subconsciously. James is reminding us to be so careful of this progression.

Because it could lead to lashing out and sinful actions.

However, there are time when anger is warranted. I call this "righteous anger." Because love will get angry. If you are married, dating, courting, or in a close relationship with friends and family, you will get angry. Because love is angry. The Lord became angry. If God was angry than we can rest assured that not all anger is sinful, given the right context.

I'll say it again: love will get angry. If you are anticipating that your marriage will be "perfect" and you won't get angry because you are so in love and admire your spouse beyond words--think again. Those things may be true. They are certainly truths in my own marriage. But I still get angry. Why? Because I love my husband. Because if I don't become angry, I become tolerant. And tolerance no longer cares for the greater good of that person. And this truth is not specific to marriages. It is relevant to all relationships and the world around us.

Point in case:

I get angry when my legislators vote in favor of abortion. It makes me angry because I see the beautiful life within each and every one of those young women and it crushes my heart to see that life thrown away. It makes me angry that young girls are told lies about the procedure. It makes me angry when they feel they have no one to turn to. It makes me angry when the state mandates that girls can undergo an abortion procedure without notifying the parents. It makes me angry when I see a colleague, friend or peer whose eyes well up with tears because they regret their past decision and they can't get past the trauma. It makes me angry.

Poverty makes me angry.

Addiction makes me angry. When I see a young girl wrapped up in drug addiction and she isn't in the right frame of mind to care for her child, it makes me angry.

But let's remember the definition of anger--a violent emotion. It's an emotion. And that emotion spurs me to not react in rage as so often the emotion of anger leads to...but respond in care, in grace, in compassion and with understanding.

See, it's important to rid ourselves of our limited understanding of anger. It is vital that we throw away our misconceptions of what anger truly is. Because anger is natural. It is a God-given emotion. Most people channel their anger towards retribution. But as Christ followers we need to channel our anger towards change.

Don't become angry with the person--get angry at the sin.

Offer love and advice to the friend considering abortion, donate to local charities, participate in a food drive and talk to the friend with the drug addiction. Get them help.

Does this make sense? Tolerance is void of action. It accepts everything--even nonsense. Don't be tolerant. Initiate change.

wait.

2010-11-09T19:14:00.002-05:00

We'll be standing face to face, everybody in the place
Says "I know they'll be happy"

(Remember how everyone knew right away, baby?)

And as we walk back up the aisle I will turn to you and smile
Cause I know we'll be happy
And I will look to you and you will look to me
A million thoughts race through my head
But my smile is all you see

(but know that my heart is exceedingly giddy with joy)

And I will stand beside you, I'll hold your hand and say
"You were worth the wait"
Though I often stopped to ask God why
I always knew that He was right
When He told me to wait for you

(He did. He always reminded me that you were out there waiting too.)

When I was weak and couldn't see the way
I'd look ahead and see your face
And God would always bring me through
I had so many chances to throw it all away
But I knew if I stayed strong I'd meet you someday
I'd kneel and pray and I'd ask God to keep you safe
(I did, sweetheart. I really did.)
Because I knew you were worth the wait

It seemed so very hard sometimes, but you were always on my mind
I couldn't bear to hurt you
So grab my hand and hold on tight, we'll run together through the night
Just you and I
We'll be walking side by side, I'll be yours and you'll be mine
And I know we'll be happy
I made the choice to wait for you, you made the same decision too
And I know we'll be happy
We had so many chances to throw it all away
But we both stayed strong and God brought our lives together that one day
Now I kneel and pray and I thank God that you are safe
You were worth the wait

You truly were, darling. And I would do it all over again if I had to.
Because you, my sweet husband, are my prince charming--
the greatest gift God has ever entrusted me with.

jump.

2010-11-08T08:35:00.010-05:00

All that's left to do is jump. Someone who loves the Lord cannot ignore His prompting. I can no longer use the level of obedience of those around me as the standard for my own behavior. I cannot look to the lives of others to dictate whether or not I am capable, worthy, or prepared. Because I never will be. Rather, I must put my trust in Jesus Christ who says He will always be with me, He will never leave me and He will never forsake me. He placed words in Moses' mouth before he arrived in Egypt and He will do the same for me as I pen the words of my book. And I know that the power of obedience has a way of making the insurmountable, achievable.

Jesus has given me a passion for young women and relationships. And He has instilled in me a longing to share what He has taught me. Refusing to share it with others is arguably the most selfish response.

We must evaluate our thoughts and our motives and determine whether they are aligning us more with Christ or gradually drawing us further away. Otherwise, the mission will be tainted with pride and selfishness which will hinder the success of God's mission. The motive must be free of these things to ensure the calling is met with tenderness and benevolence. The motive must desire to lift up the name of Jesus rather than your own. You must decrease so that the name of God may increase.

Even if you believe in Christ you can choose not to follow where He's leading you. But you are making a somber choice. Faith brought the walls of Jericho down. But it took marching around its exterior for seven days. True faith requires action, not just a static belief.

Like a car in neutral that has been placed on a slight incline, failing to actively move forward results in a slow decline. If you are not following Jesus, you are resisting Him. Period.

So earnestly seek Him. Throw away insecurity, doubt and fear. Because all those things are anti-faith.

“I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a love letter to the world.”
-Mother Teresa of Calcutta

chloe.

2010-10-29T17:22:00.001-04:00

Meet Chloe:

Our brand new little addition.
Welcome home, Chloe <3

spooks and saturdays.

2010-10-24T20:41:00.004-04:00

Living with my husband is always an adventure. And I still claim that marriage is God's greatest invention--His greatest present to His eager children. This weekend Eric and I went kitten shopping again. We toured shelter after shelter in a 30-minute radius from home, but just didn't find the one we were supposed to adopt. Eric is so sweet. Though he is more fond of dogs, he is excited about adopting a kitten because he sees how much it means to me. I'm so blessed.

Which reminds me--this coming week is my last week at Ruby Tuesday (finally!). I always knew this day would come, but I never imagined it actually happening. Soon, I'll be working from home :) I am officially a freelance correspondent for the Cabinet Press which is affiliated with the Nashua Telegraph. I'm so excited. Already, I have been able to speak with so many inspirational and interesting people. Like the women who were walking to raise money for breast cancer, or the teenager who was granted a wish by the Make-A-Wish Foundation, or the curriculum enhanced gardens produced by the community and students at the Bedford elementary school. I've been able to take pictures and explore areas of my new home that I would never have experienced. It's grand. And I think it's something that God is going to expand and grow. (Maybe I'll even make it on salary one day!).

Anywho. That's another reason for getting a kitten. I need some company when I'm working from home. I've already experimented with my new routine that will start a week from tomorrow. On Friday, I stayed home and worked on articles all day. It flew by! And I got three done which equates to nearly triple the money I would have made during the day at Ruby's.

This will also give me more time to work on my book and do the incredible amounts of research that still need to be done. I'm excited. I think God has something new and extraordinary planned. I have peace with my decision, but naturally, I have that fear of failing. Or the fear that I won't make as much money...but I think this is God trying to tell me to trust Him. It's the proverbial leap of faith--but it's an adrenaline rush too.

Oh. And I think I'm going to name my kitten Chloe.

But back to today, after moseying around kitten shelters for a few hours, we stopped by a church selling pumpkins. We purchased two itty bitty pumpkins and hot apple cider (I burnt my tongue!). We carved them when we got home after we spread out last week's Boston Globe over our new coffee table. We then decided to watch a marathon of Ghost Adventures while we carved intricate designs. And they were intricate! I carved a kitten (duh), and Eric carved a sports car (another duh) lol. After illuminating them, we stood back and took pride in our new creations: our first Halloween pumpkins as a Mr. and Mrs! (I can't help it..I have to say it).

We kept watching Ghost Adventures and before we went to sleep, I made Eric leave all the hall lights on :p

Today we went to church (awesome message! I'll talk about that another time), and then did the kitten shelter search again. Nothing. But I'm not worried. I've been praying that God will lead us to just the right one :) Then we came home and just played. We made lunch and Eric played games and I cut coupons. Then, in a moment of spontaneity, we decided to go to Chuck E Cheese! Who knew there was one in Lowell which happens to be 15 minutes away! We dominated. Eric won two jack-pots on Deal or No Deal and two of the top scores on another game. And I actually won Skee-Ball--twice!--for the first time in my life! At the end of our little free for all, we walked away with 739 tickets. Domination, my friend.

And now, we're watching Ghost Adventures again. We are home and we are all snuggled and our tummys are full. This has been an awesome weekend. Relaxed, but with so many "firsts." I love being married to my best friend. Did I mention that? ;)

'till next time guys.

walk.

2010-10-19T10:22:00.002-04:00

I love my home. And I love taking walks in the morning in our neighborhood. It was absolutely glorious this morning. Eric left for work a bit later today, but after I had made his breakfast and lunch and kissed him goodbye, I laced my sneakers and took for the asphalt. I took the two-mile loop that I had mapped out months ago and used the time to pray.

To be honest, I have neglected Jesus lately. I have been reading and studying, but I haven't been giving him adequate talking time. You can read all about a person and have knowledge of them, but if you never talk to them, how do you expect to know the intimate aspects of them? That's how I believe it is with Jesus too. He wants to share His heart with His children.

I think I'm going to make mornings like these a habit. I certainly have time. Rather than responding to e-mails for an hour or so before work, I can take the time to respond to my Jesus. To listen and to communicate. I can get to e-mails later. They'll still be there when I come home.

I'm excited about what the rest of this year is going to bring. There are so many changes happening, and I think I'll throw these lovely morning walks in the mix.
The air is crisp and clean and the sun shimmers through the autumn leaves in a way that can't be described in words. And while I'm walking, I'll be praying. I can't think of a more beautiful way to start the day. Set a date with Jesus. He'll never stand you up and He'll never be late. He'll meet you there.

today.

2010-10-18T09:45:00.002-04:00

Today is the day that the Lord has made. Today starts anew. Today is the beginning of something grand. I feel it. I feel it in my skin, in my toes, in my heart. I'm giddy. I have this sense of peace and sense of joy. It's superseding the fear of giving my notice and quitting my job.

Because there is something better in store. Something far greater. Something with more purpose.

It's scary. It's weird. It's change. And I'm not so good with either of those things. But I'm ready. I'm ready to jump despite fear. Ready to work despite the risk of failure. Because God deems me ready.

And the best part, is that I will write more. I will write and write and write until my fingers beg for relief. Because that's my calling. That's my purpose. And I am finally going to be able to charge forward with my Jesus at my side. I will race towards His goals and his purposes for my life.

And in between, I will write about my fabulous marriage and my loving husband. So I don't miss a thing. So I don't forget. And so I don't scramble trying to remember the details.

You're about to see a lot more of me. Because October 18, 2010, marks the day that God stepped in and made a change.

<3

Kenny.

2010-09-21T10:06:00.001-04:00

Denver Broncos wide receiver Kenny McKinley was found dead in his home yesterday from what appears to be a self-inflicted gun shot wound. He was only 23 years old.

I look at this picture and I see his vibrant smile and his healthy form and I wonder why. What was occurring in his life, on or off the field, that made him believe that the only escape was to take his own life? He was a quarterback in high school and broke the record as the University of South Carolina's all-time leader in receptions and receiving yards. According to the Bronco's website he was the only rookie in the league in 2009, to average at least 22 yards on kickoff returns and 10 yards on punt returns. He was considered average for his size, but he was dynamite on the field. Though he suffered from a knee injury at the start of this season, Head Coach Josh McDaniels, said Kenny had a promising future on the field.

His professional career had just begun--life was good, yes?

So why.

I watched the video below that highlights his emerging career at the University of South Carolina. The plays and the receives he made were incredible. There are shots of fans going wild and his teammates huddling around after a great play. It seemed like he had it all.

And he had a son. A little tike whom Kenny had reportedly just taken to visit his Alma Marta to show him where daddy made his big break. So why?

Last night I watched a sermon online with my husband. The sermon was about envy--the sickness within. Pastor Craig Groeschel outlined so many areas where envy affects us. How often do we compare our career with someone else's? How frequently do we wish we had a bigger home, a nicer car, or a larger television? When something great happens to someone else--they get the promotion, the ring, the boyfriend--do we secretly cringe inside with jealously? Do we inwardly resent God's greatness in their lives rather than rejoicing with those who rejoice? More often than not, if we truly look at ourselves, I believe we do.

Let's rewind a moment. Look at Kenny's life. On the outside, things were great. The future was promising. His career brought in boo-ko bucks. He was rolling in fame and fortune. Jealous much? I'd be. But like Pastor Craig said: though the grass looks greener on the other side, there is still poop on that lawn. You just might not see it from where you stand behind your fence.

It's interesting isn't it? We often compare our lives to those of others believing they have it better no matter what our circumstances may be or the blessings God has doted on us.

I wonder who Kenny was comparing his life to. I wonder what was going on in his mind and heart. I wonder what the pressures were and what he dealt with that others may have never noticed. I wonder who left poop in his lawn.

I think it behooves us to take a moment and realize the danger of comparing ourselves to others. I think it's important to realize that no matter who you are, someone's grass is always greener. Maybe if we stop selfishly comparing ourselves and ranking our status with others we'd see what God wants us to see. That everyone needs Him. That everyone has a God-shaped hole that needs His presence and His love.

My heart breaks for Kenny's friends and family that have to cope with such a tragic, premature loss. But I hope that all of us can see that fame and fortune and prestige doesn't necessarily bring bliss and happiness. Just because someone is "set" doesn't mean you shouldn't dig deeper--ask: How are you--really? What's going on? How can I pray for you?

Go deeper with people. Don't ask "how are you" and be satisfied with "good" as an answer. Go deeper. Because everyone has poop in their yard. Everyone.

Reliance.

2010-09-04T15:22:00.003-04:00

We have such a big God, but isn't it funny that we still tend to rely on our own strength? We like to be the little gods of our own life, rather than rely on the supernatural strength delivered by the God of the universe. I think those of us who love the Lord tend to do this a bit subconsciously. Using my own life as an example, I never intentionally deem myself more worthy to handle a situation, but my carnal nature tells me I am more than capable of handling it. And that I should be capable of handling it. Our human nature tells us that reliance on others is a form of weakness. So I listen to the loud voice of the enemy rather than the sweet whisper of my Savior. The same goes when we intend to bank our successes on our own talents. Using my own life as an example (yet again), I studied journalism in college. I took four years of classes, fell under the scrutiny of numerous professors and publications, and was forced to handle tight deadlines. I wrote more than I read and typed more often than I studied. It was my life for four years. Naturally, at the point of earning your Bachelors degree within a said field, the world expects you to accomplish any task within your industry by your own strength. If you can't, than you are unqualified and under experienced. Since the world contains us, it is difficult to rely on Christ rather than our own talent.

So are you relying on your own talent or are you relying on your God? It's important to remember that God will not allow us to rob Him of His glory. The sooner we allow Him to take control of the pen (in my case, anyways), the sooner the task will be complete and the greater the outcome will be. When we allow God to take the metaphorical steering wheels of our lives, we do ourselves and Him a favor. The pressure is no longer on us to succeed, and Jesus Christ can fulfill His purpose in us without fighting our unintentional resistance. If you rely on yourself for your success and your fulfillment, you will be very disappointed when things begin to fall apart.

Period. You aren't as amazing as you think you are ;)
(I say this in love, guys).

So put aside nominal Christianity. You aren't what you say, you are what you do. I can write about who I am and what I believe, but if my actions do not correspond with my words, than I'm living a lie. The Lord will take the glory. But He will not steal your dreams, either. His heart's desire that your deepest needs are met. So give Him the reins, let Him take control, surrender your fears and hesitations concerning that project or proposal or situation and let Him use your talents to bring greater glory to your Savior, Jesus Christ, and more satisfaction to your heart.

nothing.

2010-08-25T23:05:00.003-04:00

It's the overused, slightly abused answer: nothing. "What's wrong?" Nothing. It's easy. It's straightforward. And it ends all further conversation. But we all know that "nothing" means "something." And yet, "nothing" seems to be the perfect answer because in reality, we have no idea how to find the "something" behind the "nothing." Make sense?

But sometimes it really is nothing. Nothing in the moment at least. Nothing at the forefront of my mind. But it's the convergence of so many minor and inconclusive factors or situations that convince your family, friend or lover that something is most definitely wrong.

So what's the right answer? Perhaps saying, "I'm not really sure. I just feel off." Okay, well, that works for a moment, but then there are gentle probing questions: Did something happen today? What's bothering you? What's really going on? And for the person who is bothered by nothing, suddenly has something to be bothered by. It may not have been that person a few hours ago when you got turned down for another job. Or when your best friend called to tell you bad news. Or when your mother called and in her voice you sensed weariness. But all those converging factors that never had a place of release suddenly are spewed out with a negative tone or a careless shrug. Nothing offensive or accusatory or mean. But misplaced. Rudely misplaced. And entirely not intentional.

So if you are bothered by nothing, but know that it's something, how do you find the something behind the nothing?

crazy.

2010-08-25T10:32:00.002-04:00

Do you ever feel like God totally and completely lost His ever-loving mind? Let me preface this. I certainly mean no disrespect to my loving, passionate Savior. But seriously? Sometimes I feel like Moses when he first saw the burning bush audibly communicate. I bet his eyes bulged and his heart started palpitating. It's just a hunch. But I mean, a bush speaking? I would have seriously thought I had lost all my marbles. Let's face it...the whole scene is a bit creepy.

I love the Bible. I do. If you read the Bible as if reading a historical account rather than an allegorical story, there is great power and humor between the lines. So many people argue that the Bible is irrelevant. That it doesn't speak to the culture today. But nothing could be further from the truth. Look at David. He was messeeedddd uppp. He had a one night stand, got the chick pregnant, lied to the woman's husband, and when that didn't work, he essentially hired a hit man to kill him. Are you sensing the plot for a Lifetime movie? I am. And yet this guy was called "a man after God's own heart." Isn't that striking? It wasn't what David did, it was his heart that was so attractive to God. Once he repented with sincere remorse, his slate was wiped clean and God had the opportunity to use him. Rahab was a prostitute. And she was in the direct line of Jesus' heritage. Gideon was a farmer, but God used him to deliver Israel. Jephthah was the son of a prostitute, and yet he too was used to deliver Israel from the Ammonites. Jesus' own mother was a peasant! And yet God chose her to bring His son into the world. And Matthew, one of the twelve disciples, was a hated tax collector prior to his following Jesus Christ. Each of us can relate to someone in the Bible. My favorite is David. Sometimes I feel so inadequate and so used up and yet, God still whispers my name and calls me to my knees.

There's nothing like loving Jesus. But like I said, sometimes I just don't follow His way of thinking. If I were God, I think I would be more apt to choose individuals who were more equipped to carry out my promises and my missions. I wouldn't choose those who were outwardly inadequate. And yet He does. Has He lost His mind? Of course not. But that doesn't mean that when I am called to do something that seems astronomically impossible, that I don't (for a brief second) question His sanity. It's hard to feel empowered when you feel inadequate.

Let me get to my point. God wants me to write a book. A book about purity, sex, engagement and relationships. He wants me to put my pride in my pocket and sit on it (as a good friend of mine always says). He wants me to be extremely vulnerable, real, raw, and honest with my readers. His readers. He wants me to put my hesitations aside and just do it. Now, I must admit, I have known this for over a year now. And so far all I have is a table of contents and a terrible first draft of chapter one. But now God is speaking loud and clear. I am now standing before the burning bush and God is saying "write." I would lay my life down for my Savior. I would do anything for Him. I love Him more than anyone else in the whole world. But I feel like He chose the wrong person. I'm so passionate about this subject matter, and yet, I feel as though I won't get the words right, or someone will take what I say the wrong way, or it will fall under the scrutiny of the Christian church. But I can't be afraid. I know this is God's purpose and His will. But I don't know where to begin. My eyes are bulged and my heart is palpitating. Now I know how Moses felt. But if God could use the most unlikely character to free His people from Egypt, I guess, maybe, He could use me too.

This is where you come in. I want to hear your stories. Tell me about your struggles with purity, with God's will, with dating and relationships and what the church has taught you about sexual intimacy. You don't have to be a Christian to respond to this. I'm looking for a variety of feedback. I'm ready to transform what the world has taught our generation about sex and I'm going to do it in a way that hasn't been done before. God has given me the blueprint--I just need to build it. And I need your help and your voices to help establish the grounds on which God wants me to write. Your stories will remain confidential. I say I don't know where to start...but guess I do. I'm ready to revolutionize the way our culture views sex and even our thought process regarding intimacy.

Look out world. Here I come. And it's all for God's glory.

Dear Lord,

May my name be minimized so that Your name may be glorified. May Your words come through my pen. This is not about me. This is ALL about You. Have Your way, Lord Jesus. I love You.

Love,
Your willing, but admittedly freaked out daughter ;]

To share your stories, email me at: samantha-arroyo@comcast.net

afternoons.

2010-08-20T17:18:00.003-04:00

The little old lady who lives upstairs is about as sweet as a peach. And I get to have her as a landlord too! Today was one of those days I had mapped out by the hour. Everything was arranged just so--drop my husband off to work, indulge in an extended coffee break, shower and change, work on the latest and greatest Applaud Magazine article, and then hunt down sources for the Bedford Journal. And maybe send out my resume somewhere in between. But, naturally, my plans did not go accordingly. Around 11am, I got a sweet voicemail from my landlord upstairs asking me to call her back when I had a moment. Having just missed her call, I called her back right away.

"Hi, Samantha."

"Hi, Elaine. How are you?"

"Oh, good. Hey. What are you doing today?"

'Well, I have some writing to do for some freelance articles, but not too too much. Why?" I de-emphasized my schedule incase something was terribly wrong. Having just lost her niece, I thought perhaps she needed some help around the house or was calling about dinner plans this evening.

"Oh, well I thought maybe I could show you that consignment store down the way."

"Oh, that'd be lovely, Elaine! Are you busy around 1 o'clock?

"No."

"All right, let's plan for 1 o'clock then!"

"Great. See you then, Samantha. I'll meet you outside."

After showering, changing, emailing Eric some documents at work, and writing a single sentence for nearest deadline, it was 1 o'clock. Thinking this would be a mini adventure down the street, I wasn't concerned with the amount I had yet to accomplish on the article. Three hours later I arrived back home. And within the hour I had to leave to pick up Eric from work.

But you know what? I wouldn't trade the afternoon for anything. We perused three consignment stores in the area and I felt like a child in a toy store. Furniture and odds and ends galore. And for a good ticket price. I didn't buy anything on our trip, but I will most certainly be back. Elaine was like my little tour guide, showing me what each piece of furniture was used for. What I thought was a child's desk turns out is a phone desk. It's this cute little piece that is set up for a phone and phone books. Back in the day, they actually had a designated spot in the house for making telephone calls. Fancy that! And just at the other end of the store was a piece created just to hold thread and needles and sewing supplies. Had she not explained it, I would have never guessed what the strange contraption was. And even better was when she saw what I thought was the ugliest looking lamp. "This is from the jail," she said. Bewildered, I think I mustered a "huh?" She went on to explain that the eagle carvings were a trademark of a jailhouse in Maine. Apparently the inmates carve elaborate household furnishings and when they sell in a consignment store, they actually earn a bit of profit!

In the car, Elaine pointed out every little store and breakfast joint she knew of. I now know where the best ice cream is, the best breakfast diner is, and where the Walmart Superstore is. And thanks to Elaine, I am also aware that the superstore charges 8 cents more a gallon of milk than the one closer to home. Good to know.

On the way back, she asked if I wanted ice cream. How could I resist? So we stopped on the way home and she even paid. There we sat. Two young ladies (young at heart, at least) on a little wooden bench overlooking the Merrimack River.

I think I've found myself a new friend.

wonder.

2010-08-11T17:13:00.002-04:00

Sometimes words get so jumbled, twisted and misconstrued, that it's a wonder if anyone can recall the original intent of what was said. Sometimes what you hear is not what was meant to be heard. For instance, sometimes words are read with a tone or with an inflection that the author did not intend. Sometimes words can only paint a hazy picture and other times silence says it all. A misplaced comma or punctuation can change the entire meaning of a sentence. Or a poorly placed pause can alter the effects of a casual comment.

Sometimes things are better left unsaid. And other times, something must be said--to adhere to accountability, to protect, to nurture or to forgive. But sometimes there are too many words. Words can fail. No matter the intent or purpose, they absolutely can fail. And when they do, I find myself at the feet of Jesus time and time again

.

sweet.

2010-07-30T16:52:00.002-04:00

Eric and I were snuggling in bed the other night. But this time, his head was nestled on my shoulder. I was running my hands through his hair and down his back as he curled up against me. It was peaceful and I was reminded once again of the sweetest bliss that comes with marriage. Silences are not so awkward--they are welcomed. And it was beautiful to just lay there and listen to the ceiling fan lightly buzz above our heads, every so often tossing a strand of hair across my face.

Then Eric said something that I wasn't expecting. "There aren't many people in the world that have the capacity to love like you do." I paused. My hand stopped moving against his back and suddenly a soft smile spread across my face.

"That's the sweetest thing you've ever said."

He nuzzled closer to me. "It's true."

It was in response to a question I had asked. One I ask all the time--"Do you know how much I love you?"

If his response is "yes" I tell him he's wrong. "No you don't. You can't possibly even fathom the strength of it."

I'll ask again--"Do you know how much I love you?"

"No," will come the reply. "But I'm starting to get it." Satisfied, I'll resume what I had just previously been doing.

This time was different. "Do you know how much I love you?"

"Yes."

"And why do you say that, mister," I replied, teasing.

"Because there are not many people who have the capacity to love like you do."

I was stunned. I have been trying to teach Eric that a woman grows up learning to behave in a modest fashion. She is told to cover up and act like a lady in front of gentlemen. A boy is taught to conceal his emotions from those around him. Boys don't cry. Boys are strong. All those messages that are taught to young men and young women. Neither are necessarily wrong--they are just sometimes misunderstood. Eric's emotional tank was hindered even more so. When his father left he took on responsibility as the man in the home. Though it wasn't expected of him, he felt the duty to fulfill it. When things were turbulent, he was the calming balm that nurtured and protected the rest of his family. He kept his own emotions at bay.

Newly married, we both have to get comfortable sharing in different ways.

That's why I was so stunned. Rarely the emotional type, Eric shared with me something I'll never forget. For the first time, I could not respond. Instead, I just kissed him lightly on the forehead and drank in a compliment that I won't soon forget.

For the first time, maybe he is starting to "get it."

puzzled.

2010-07-28T16:21:00.002-04:00

It has occurred countless times, and yet each time it astonishes me. So often I find myself engaged in conversation with someone concerning my husband and the newness of our marriage. Today, for instance, happened to be one of those occasions. A fellow co-worker approached me and asked if I was married. "Yes," I responded, grinning from ear-to-ear. She reached for my hand and gazed at the bands dressing my ring finger. "Do you love him?" she asked.

Though puzzled, I quickly collected myself and replied, "He's my world."

"Really?" she responded, smirking a bit. Her subtle smile and uncomfortable glance back to her work made me certain she did not believe in everlasting love.

Two weeks ago I had a similar encounter. "Do you really think you'll be with him forever?" I was asked. "Absolutely," I responded, not a quiver of doubt in my heart. She stared at me for a moment and then shook her head before walking away.

Another young woman at work is 33 and engaged to be married. I giddily asked her to divulge all the wonderful details. She was not entirely forthcoming and I soon learned why. Her first marriage was when she was 22--my age. "I think this one is the one," she said staring at the floor. "I think he was the one I was supposed to marry all along."

I find it absolutely perplexing and severely disappointing that these young women don't believe in an everlasting, no matter what, hungry, jealous love. What my husband and I share is inconceivable to the world. The joy we find in one another is a foreign concept. It saddens my heart to see young women--and young men--waltzing through relationships without ever abandoning their heart to the other. Without ever fully trusting. Without ever loving recklessly.

This is not to say that romance is all gumdrops and butterflies. Certainly not. Rather, it is an unbreakable bond that no man can separate. God is the source of everlasting love and the commitment that enables His children to love on others in a likewise manner. My heart breaks for the girls who no longer believe in happy endings. I wish I could sit down with each and every one of them to show them that a Cinderella love is possible. I would love to hug them each and tell them to hold out for their prince. God has shown me more and more that from the very beginning He hand-picked Eric to be my husband. There were many suitable men to choose from, but none would measure up to the standard that God had already met for me. God gave Adam one Eve. He did not place several women in front of Adam and tell him to pick the best helper. Rather, God chose for him, because he knew the best for his son. What a marvelous Savior we serve. God tells us that He is unchanging, and therefore, He has woven together the perfect mate with you in mind.

The world would not believe me if I shared Eric's and my story. Because the world does not believe a love like that exisits. I am so blessed to share a passionate relationship with a man so close to the Lord's heart. Of course there are messy moments and slip ups and skinned knees along the way, but the bottom line? I love my husband. I love him more than words could ever express. And I love the Lord who provided such an immense blessing all the more.

teach.

2010-07-06T22:05:00.002-04:00

I've learned a lot since being married. For instance, a man's white t-shirts will never be white--even after bleaching. Weird habits you didn't know you had come to the surface. Changing your name requires traveling around half the state to different departments, divisions and associations. Sharing a bank account can be an adjustment. Independence takes on a new definition. Boys eat a lot. Hudson feels like forever away from family and friends. Pneumonia is no fun. And I have a tremendous amount to learn.

But I've also learned that love is unconditional. Marriage is the strongest bond two Jesus-lovers can share. Living far away town means more adventures and explorations than two people can handle. Decorating is probably my new favorite hobby. I can actually make a decent meal! There's a level of comfort and security that I didn't know existed. Family will always be close to heart. I love my new name. Waiting was absolutely and entirely worth it. Intimacy is nothing like I ever even imagined. God loves to bless His kids when the seek His heart. And my relationship with Jesus has a greater and deeper dimension now that I share my everything with someone else.

Though I have graduated and moved on to the next stage of my life; Though I'm married and am currently pursuing a career--I will always be a student of life. I will always be a student of my Heavenly Father. I'll be a student of life. I'll never stop learning. I'll never stop studying. There is so much to explore, so much to indulge in, so much that Jesus wants to show us. I can't wait for all the other little lessons I'll learn and re-learn. Some of the lessons are far from new. Some lessons are never truly learned. They are re-occurring. And I am learning to consider that a blessing rather than a frustration. It just means I'm being more refined into what God wants for me to be. And whatever He wants, I want.

And I can say that with total confidence and sincerity. And there's no better feeling.

I can't wait for each new day.

new.

2010-06-28T09:32:00.002-04:00

I am officially a married woman. I have married my prince and he has whisked me away on a romantical journey. I could not imagine being any more blessed than I already am. Our honeymoon was fantastic. We flew down to Saint Lucia and spent seven days in the tropics. We went snorkling, horseback riding in the ocean, toured the island, walked through a volcano, took a mud bath and even had a couple's massage. The weather was fantastic and the water was a brilliant blue-green crystal. We dined at five-star restaurants that were all-inclusive with the resort and spent the nights watching karaoke and fire dancers and walking the white sand beaches. It's a dream. Truly, it is.

Arriving home was just a continuation of the adventure--not a stop to the fun. We got home from the honeymoon at 2am and there was a sign on the door that said "welcome home mr. and mrs. eric-thomas arroyo." It was darling! And on the table sat my wedding bouquet--browned and wilted from the time passing. Our communion cups from the ceremony and a ceremony program accompanied the bouquet and our refrigerator was filled with eggs and muffins and bagels and yogurt and orange juice (among other things) so that we would be able to have a hearty breakfast the following morning. To excited to do anything else, we raced to the closet and exposed all our gifts to the hall lights. There was a trunk filled with cards and beautifully wrapped boxes of all sizes. We spent over an hour going through each card while sitting on the couch..each time shrieking with joy and disbelief at each generous gift.

We slept until noon the following day, exhausted from over 12 hours of traveling. We spent the day organizing and shopping for food and cleaning supplies and miscellaneous items we still had to purchase. It was hysterically fun. We took pictures up and down the isles of Market Basket and joyfully filled our trunk with food. That night, I cooked a pizza--burnt the bottom and set the fire alarms off. The next day we were inundated with ants! After watching a movie in the dark, we flicked on the lights and low and behold, there were over 25 ants scurrying all over the ground! Frantic, I took Eric's sneakers and started pounding the ground and the wall. Eric followed my lead. What a sight! Two newlyweds haphazardly killing insects that were crawling all over the rug and up and down the walls. Finally locating the source of their entrance, Eric handed me the vacuum cleaner and told me to man the fort. He went to Walmart and bought cocking, Raid and ant traps. After closing each and every tiny hole where the brick met the plaster near the fireplace, we haven't seen an ant since. Okay, maybe three or four...in four days. My baby is my hero.

After the burnt pizza episode, I did cook my HUSBAND'S favorite meal: Chicken Fettuccine Alfredo. Only, I used spaghetti instead. :p That was a success, thank goodness. But that night was a different story. Moving from a king size bed that we were fortunate enough to have on vacation, to a full size bed at home, proved to be a challenge. That night I was given about six inches of space by my new husband. With my bum hanging off the bed, I twisted and turned trying to get comfortable. The man was dead to the world--in such a deep sleep, my shoving him over didn't wake him. Moments later he shoved his bum into my spine! I rolled over and gently nudged him. Nothing. Within minutes he was tossing and threw his leg over mine, grunted and started talking in his sleep! I nudged him and he rolled over...right before he wipped an elbow around and clocked me right in the face! That was it. Having no luck at all I spent the night huddled on the couch. :p I missed my lover, but I was able to sleep. At around six in the morning my new husband came padding down the hall utterly perplexed as to why I was sleeping on the couch. "You beat me!" I said. After telling him the whole ordeal, he apologized and then we both burst out laughing. I followed him back to bed and we haven't had a problem since :)

We have certainly had our adventures. We had hamburgers on the grill with our landlord the second day we came back. I've had a cough since we returned which means we have to invest in a de-humidifier, and today, my husband starts his new job! It has been quite a whirlwind, these past few . But I have loved every second of it. I have never experienced such peace and joy as I have since I got married over two weeks ago. We had a phenomenal wedding and a lovely start to our marriage. We have had little mishaps along the way, but nothing more serious than a burnt pizza and ants. We still have a few things to figure out, and there are some things God is teaching me about love and marriage, but I am excited to learn. Today, reality is back in play. There is work and there is lots to do again. The vacation is over, but our new chapter is just beginning. And with God writing our love story, I cannot wait to see what He has in store for us next.

love.

2010-06-24T09:30:00.002-04:00

being married to my best friend is the greatest blessing in all the world.

dear heavenly father,
thank you so much for giving us the strength to wait for passion until marriage.
it was worth the wait.
your way is the only way for true peace and joy and romance.
thank you for trusting me with such an extraordinary blessing.

i love you.

love your daughter,
samantha

grad

2010-05-22T16:54:00.003-04:00

There I am.
Magna Cum Laude, kiddos.
Stick a fork in me.
I'm done!
:]

thought:

2010-05-18T20:17:00.001-04:00

If you are accused of being a Christian, there should be enough evidence to convict you.

pure

2010-05-09T21:42:00.003-04:00

Purity.
Purity rings.
Soon we will wear our wedding bands.
Until then,
You and me, babe.
We can do this.
We can wait.
We can.
True love is patient.
It is not self-seeking.
It is kind.
It is trustworthy.
It perseveres.
It endures all trials.
This is hard right now.
No one tells you in church that it will be hard.
That you will constantly be tempted.
That you will make mistakes.
You will go a little too far.
Kiss a little too long.
Embrace a little too much.
Touch a little to passionately.
The standard for purity is so great and so unattainable.
(and Jesus knew that when He said:
If you look at a woman with lust, it is as if you slept with her.)
Impossible standard.
He knew.
He set the bar high.
But He said it so that we would reach for holiness.
So His grace would be sufficient.
So that we would need him.
Because we are so imperfect in our fleshly longings,
desires,
lusts,
and passion.
Solomon and his lover resisted as much temptation.
They were passionate.
They were heavy with lust and admiration.
They were lovers in the most passionate sense.
And they waited.
They were flirty and danced with immorality, yes.
As have we.
And through this God has illuminated my imperfection.
My strength can only come from Him.
God designed me to be passionately in love with you.
He created sexuality.
He loves it.
He made it.
It was His idea.
But it is the only thing He makes you abstain from.
The only thing He makes you wait for.
And then?
When you are married--
when you are in covenant with Him as a couple--
He says to not resist.
To lavish affection,
love,
caresses,
kisses,
and sensuality.
To refrain is to sin.
It's a 180.
In 34 days God expects us to make a 180.
Flip a switch.
Turn around.
No longer resist.
I wonder why He called us to wait to marry until June.
We have stumbled and slipped.
Put each other first instead of Him.
It makes my heart ache and my skin hurt
As I wait to be with you in the way we are intended to one day be.
It makes me cry myself to sleep.
Because I was made to love you.
Made to be your wife.
God created me for this.

We are pure now despite dancing with fire.
We are pure because our hearts' desire is God's will.
We are pure because we seek His purpose.
We are pure because we have waited.
We are not perfect.
No.
We are carnal,
fleshly,
guaranteed to fail.
But we have waited.
We have not engaged ourselves with one another.
We have remained virgins.
I have saved myself for you.
And you for me.
No one approaches the alter with us.
And we can keep going.
We can continue this journey.
Though it may be hell,
a book of our journey will spring from it.
There is purpose for everything.

So we will wait.

We will continue to wait.
We've gone this far.
Only 34 more days.

Then we can love without bounds
without reins...

Holy and pleasing in God's sight.

mail.

2010-04-28T13:07:00.002-04:00

The response cards are filling the mailbox. I absolutely love it. It's my new favorite thing to rush home and scatter the mail all over the counter tops searching for little envelopes. Our first responses were from Jennifer and Tyson, my new family. I love her to pieces and she has been such a phenomenal help over the past few months. My only complaint is that I never get to see her beautiful face! But I'm sure that will change over the next few weeks as we get closer and closer.

I continue to pray for supernatural patience during this time of waiting. It takes far more of a toll on me that I allow myself to admit. Not seeing Eric throughout the week wears on my heart and the amount of busy work with school tends to just make me frustrated. But I am working on finding joy in the Lord during this time of waiting and trusting.

Eric has still not found a job, but we are both trusting the Lord that He has everything worked out for us. We are His kids and we have prayed so diligently over this that we just need to trust Him more than ever. But it's very difficult as we only have 45 days left until our marriage. He has another interview lined up though. And ARC Technology should return with a verdict about the job position this week. It's so hard to wait patiently. Most of my waiting involves pacing and fidgeting and finger tapping. It's so difficult to wait when there seems to be such little gain.

But God is teaching us both that we need to rely on Him more fully and more entirely. It's amazing to see how He has already performed great miracles before our eyes and taken care of monetary situations that we thought would overtake us.

I only wish I could rely on Him even more wholeheartedly. I broke down in tears yesterday--probably from the overwhelming list of things to accomplish--and wallowed in guilt and embarrassment for shedding tears over the phone with Eric. I'm not sure why I desire perfection so greatly or why I am so self conscious. I only hope that this subsides the closer we get. I only hope that perhaps I will learn to let go and learn to not apologize for things I didn't do wrong and for things out of my control. I pray and hope that through this time, God stirs in my heart His own confidence. That way I can more fully represent His love.

Crazy things are happening. So much has taken place and there have been so many inner-workings in my heart and behind the scenes that I simply do not have time right now to talk about.

But I'm still pressing on. Still surging forward on this journey to the alter.

In the meantime, I'll keep myself distracted from the waiting by opening those little envelopes.

Thanks for reading.

something.

2010-04-15T19:27:00.003-04:00

Something isn't right. Something feels off kilter. Something hurts. Something is broken. Something cries. Something is numb. I don't know what it is. But whatever it is, isn't. It isn't right.

I don't like how I feel today. I don't like how I have been feeling for over a week. This long ache in my heart that won't go away unless I pretend not to care. But I'm not good at that. I care. I care about everything and anything and everyone. I feel like I'm encased in this warped void of unending chaos. And yet in my head, sometimes it's so silent. Nothing, empty.

Where does one person end and another person begin? How do two become one? And how were they ever two in the first place?

Is there a proper way to wait? Is there something I should be doing that I haven't?

Do I care too much? Am I a prodigy of some sort? A strange embodiment of loyalty and vulnerability? What does love mean to you? What does love mean to me? And if they are two different things, than what conclusion do we draw?

What would it mean if I really lived like I was dying? If I was dying, I wouldn't be doing this. I would be at the court house, at the alter, pledging my life away so fast it would be reminiscent of a shot-gun-Elvis-Presley-Vegas-drive-through-wedding-ceremony. And I wouldn't care. I wouldn't regret a second of it.

What does it mean to do "faithfully the work I have put in front of you?" What work? And in what order of preference?

What about loneliness? What is the remedy? Is it tangible? Or is it in the intangible? The conversation, the hello kiss, the friendly hug, the coffee date. Can loneliness be measured? And why does it disappear when I am with you, but crawls back when you walk away? Joy is to be found in Christ first and foremost. So where is He? Is my faith lacking? Do I not trust Him with my aches and my frustration?

And guilt. Why can I only feel right until I am guilty? Why do I apologize for what's not my fault? Why do I attract the hurting?

Do I even really help?

What change have I made? What difference did I make?

To have the opportunity that George Bailey had--to live as if you never existed. If I stepped back, I wonder if I would see anything. I wonder if I would be able to see my fingerprints on the hearts of some.

I have so many questions. I have so many emotions bouncing off the sides of my heart.

Something isn't right.

Something is not right at all.

And I can't place it. It hurts. It's lonely. It's intangible. And it aches.

If anything, it's something.

who knew.

2010-04-13T13:02:00.002-04:00

Who knew that my personality would parallel with the most miserable man in the Bible. Hello, Job. Now, the guy is pretty rad. I mean, he still converses with God after the most terrible maladies are inflicted upon him and his entire family dies. Not gonna lie--I'd have trouble with the whole trust thing if my whole family died and it could have been prevented. Now, despite this loyalty, the man complains. He complains, but can you blame him? And it's not the complaining that makes me identify with the guy. Thanks so much ladies and gents, if you thought that's where I was going...

;]

No, the part I identify with is in Job 3:25. Read it and...ponder.

What I feared has come upon me;
what I dreaded has happened to me.

Rewind.

The man had it good, folks. He was wealthy, he had a fantastic family, he was set. Golden. And yet, he feared the worst would happen. That there was no way God's goodness wouldn't come to an end. He allowed fear to play and tangle with his every day thoughts. He didn't think about this once. He feared it, he dreaded it. If you dread something you expect it. You can't dread something that you haven't expected. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Job thought that if he worried enough, if he feared enough, that it would prevent disaster from striking. That perhaps worry would keep him aware of the worst and therefore he would recognize if it was coming his way.

I. Do. This. All. The. Time.

Yes. Yes I do. I am golden, just like Job. I have a great family, a freakin' fantastic, unbelievably adoringggg fiance. He is the love of my life, the man I have prayed for since I was 12 years old. There are so few people that can say they have what I have. I am getting married in less than two months. I am graduating from university. I am writing for a magazine--my dream job. I have incredible girlfriends and two amazing best friends. I am on top of the world. I am so blessed. And yet, I worry. I worry like Job because it's safe. I worry because I know, like Job, that I am so unworthy of all of it.

Essentially, if I doubt that I am worthy of love, than I won't take it for granted. If I admit my unworthiness of receiving the love that I have, and if I am remain in this pseudo-humble state of mind, then God won't take it away from me. Truth? No. Lie? Yes. If I know I don't deserve Eric, and remain in a state of unexpected blessing, I convince myself that I'm protecting my special gift. But the truth is, that he never will never leave me. And since he never will, and I know this to be fact, I still believe the lie every now and then and put enormous pressure on myself to emit a perfect image both physically and psychologically. But by doing this, I miss the opportunity to enjoy what I have for what it is. I miss out on the freedom of being...me.

Don't do this guys. I'm working on it. And if you are anything like me, you should work on it to. God doesn't want you to live in fear of losing His blessing any more than He wants me to live in fear. He blesses out of the goodness of His heart--out of grace and mercy. If you fear He will take it away, what does that say of your trust in Him? I'm talking to myself, to be honest. If I fear I'm not good enough or worthy enough or lovable enough to receive His best, than that means I'm not trusting that He loves me. And if I don't think that He loves me and God defines Himself as Love, than what I'm really saying is, "You lied."

Ouch.

Let's get on this one. Let's trust more. Expect more and live more. Live the blessing. Don't just hold it so close to you that you miss all the details.

Live it out. Show it off as an example of God's unending, unfailing, miraculous love.

love.

2010-03-31T13:46:00.002-04:00

I will never forget Sunday night. Ever. I will never forget the words you said or the way you held me in your arms. I will never forget the tears in your eyes or the way my heart fluttered as you caressed my face at midnight. I will never forget the way you lifted me up, squeezing me to your chest and declaring to anyone in the parking lot that you are the luckiest man alive. I will never forget the way you calmed my fears and brushed my hair from my face. I will never forget how close I felt to you and how connected our hearts felt.

And in 73 days we will become far closer than ever before. We will become one. But as you said, in the past month we have become closer in heart than ever before. And we truly have.

I will never forget Sunday night. I will never forget that bitter cold and damp parking lot. I will never forget the way you looked at me and I will never ever forget the words you said. I will keep them forever pressed to my heart, and inscribed on the pages of my diary.

I love you, Eric-Thomas.

I'll love you for all eternity.

soon.

2010-03-26T12:53:00.002-04:00

I wish I had time to write more. Because the more I write, the more I remember and the less I forget. I don't want to forget. And I especially do not want to forget this time in my life.

In 78 days I will no longer be a "miss" or a "fiancee" or a "Reilly." I will be married. And I will enter into a intimate relationship with a man for the first time in my life. I will take his name. I will take on a new role and a new identity. I will still be me, but I will no longer associate with self. I will be one with someone. One--in the most real sense of the word. That's fascinating to me. And yet Eric and I both talk about how it seems so strange. Like it will never happen. Like we will never get there. Like it will never just be him and me in a room without supervision. Our entire relationship will change. One of public supervision to one of intimacy and romance. It will blossom into something deeper than we know now. Which seems so...impossible to me. I never thought I could ever love someone so deeply and passionately and sincerely, and yet, I know that when we are married, what seems deep today will seem trivial.

I am hardly making sense to myself right now. But I suppose it's still good to write. Still good to dream. Still good to fantasize about a life spent with my husband. I cannot wait to be his wife. To walk by his side like God intends. I can't wait to care for him and to make our teenie apartment [that we'll be looking for soon] into a home. I can't wait to see him off to work and greet him when he returns. I can't wait to surprise him. I can't wait to smother him with affections that are not permissable right now in a pure relationship. I cannot wait to make him want to come home. I can't wait to be home to him.

There are so many things to look forward to. So many things to hope and anticipate. I can't wait until we dance that first dance at our wedding and he can't take his eyes off me. I can't wait to feel like we are the only ones in the room. It's been so long. We have shared so much with so many others and the only time spent in seclusion is when we are driving in my car.

I can't wait to pronouce my love for my husband in front of our friends and family. I can't wait to prove to the world that we have something grand--something heaven sent. I can't wait to prove that love can be faithful for sixty years. I can't wait to share the most vulnerable, intimate moments with my husband. I can't wait to cry with him and rejoice that we both waited and saved ourselves for marriage. I can't wait to stand at the alter, be prounced man and wife, raise my eyes to the heavens as the congregation applauds and thank Jesus with all my heart, and walk away from that moment towards our dreams for our forever. Never again having to be separated. Never again having to wait. Never again having to withhold our affections. And never again forced to do life apart.

three.

2010-03-12T11:00:00.003-05:00

Three more months. Three more months until I burst through the church doors with my arm looped through my dad's. Three more months until I tiptoe slowly down the aisle. There more months until I meet my prince at the alter. Three more months until we recite our promises before friends and family and Jesus. Three more months until we are pronounced man and wife. Three more months until we are one.
Three more months.

In three months I marry my very best friend.

I can hardly wait!

menus.

2010-03-05T00:21:00.002-05:00

Tonight was absolutely fantastic. Gourmet food, free drinks, and dainty cakes. It couldn't have been more lovely. Kyle, my mom, my dad and Eric's mom were there to give us their feedback as well. The entire time I could not believe that in 100 days from that moment, I would be eating the same foods, consuming the same beverages and sitting next to the same man on our wedding day. I am so blessed beyond words to be marrying such a charming and faithful and lovable man. He is more than I had ever anticipated the Lord would bless me with.

At the end of the evening, I chose to drive Eric back to the university so we could spend some more time together since our time this week has been nonexistent. We laughed and joked and chided all the way back. We imagined and dreamed and I squealed with utmost delight. I can't tell you the joy that consumed my heart. It was beautiful.

Before I knew it, we had parked. And I went on for another ten minutes or so about walking on the beach, laying under the stars, about how we will wake up and fall asleep together, I went on about the St. Lucian waters and the romantic whispers, dancing by Tiki lamps and not having any boundaries. I talked about moving into our first place and what it would be like to race each other home to see one another. Two best friends, two lovers, doing life together. Forever.

I took a breath and turned my head to look at Eric's face. His head was leaned back against the head rest and it looked like his eyes were glistening. Watering.

"It's going to be so amazing," he whispered. "It's going to be so amazing." He rocked his head from side to side as if imagining the beauty of what we were about to share for the first time. "You have no idea how much I love you, Samantha. You have no idea."

He squeezed my hand.

"You have no idea."

car rides and mood lighting

2010-02-26T15:27:00.002-05:00

This post could totally start with: It was a dark and stormy night. Because it was. Nathan, the pastor who is marrying Eric and I, called to tell us that the church had lost power and we had two options. One: reschedule. Or two: drop on by and pray that the lights turned back on by the time we reached the building. We went with option two. We had been looking forward to this meeting for over a week and decided to take our chances.

Twenty minutes or so later, in the torrential rain, we pulled up to Eliot Baptist. It was locked. And not a soul to be seen. We called Nathan and on the third or so try, he picked up. He swung around the front in his jeep and parked at the front door before bringing us inside. The place was dark, sans the emergency lighting. And yet, low and behold, up in Nathan's office, there was enough light for us to meet. The dim florescent light was romantical. I kid.

We huddled around near the single light fixture and began to study each other and the Lord. I will be honest--I never imagined pre-marital counseling to go quite this in depth. I have learned more about Eric and more about myself in the last two sessions than I have in the last year.

Marriage is a big deal. Like, a big, big deal. I knew this when I said yes to happily ever after, and I still know this now, but I know now how critical it is to understand the fundamental aspects of marriage. Marriage is a choice. Nathan said, "you don't make engagements work or dating relationships work. You make marriage work. But not the other two." You shouldn't try to make something out of nothing. You shouldn't try to make an engagement work. It should just work. Plain and simple. Now, once you are married, by all means, you must go to the front lines for your marriage.

Nathan used a metaphor involving car shopping. Now, this is when I really enjoy seeing a man for counseling, because he knows the language in which Eric bests understands. He told the story about when he went shopping for his jeep. The dealer told him he had the perfect model for him right on the lot. It was everything he could have possibly wanted. But after seeing the car, Nathan realized it had the navigation system he didn't want, it was the wrong model, and it didn't have tinted windows.

"It's not exactly what I wanted," Nathan said.

The car dealer responded, "This won't be a problem though, right? You can make this one work for you! It's what is right here. Right now. You could drive it off the lot today. It's a beauty. Is this going to be a problem?"

"Yes. Yes it is a problem. It's not the one I wanted."

Nathan went on to explain that he could have made that car work. But it was worth waiting for the model he wanted with all the fixings he had saved for. "The jeep would've worked," he said, "but I didn't want to settle. It's just like engagements. I could have made that car work, but I shouldn't have had to. Neither should you."

When we got into the car, Eric commented about how wonderfully the session went and how he loved getting together with Nathan. I nodded, but I was focused on other aspects of our meeting. I closed my eyes and leaned back, pulling my hood close to the sides of my face. I didn't want to talk. I was emotionally exhausted. Eric put his hand on my thigh and squeezed my index finger between his knuckles. We were silent as the rain washed over the car in torrents.

About ten minutes later, Eric spoke up. "I was so confident before, but I'm even more confident now," he said. I stayed quiet and let him collect his thoughts. "That car example was great. I started thinking about everything that I've wanted in a wife and you really do fit everything." Tears sprang to my eyes. "You have all the things I wanted and characteristics that I didn't even know I wanted." Tears were streaming silently. I was so thankful it was dark and he was driving. I hoped he wouldn't see. "And even the things you don't have are so unbelievably trivial."

"Like what?"

"Like, the texting thing," he said. I squeezed my eyes shut. I knew that's what he would say. It was something that came up in counseling. Apparently, I text way too often. I am so quick to tell him everything through a text--eliminating my mysteriousness, and causing frustration and irritability. Or at least, that's what I took from the conversation. "But that's sooo trivial," he said. "It's not like you abhor video games," he laughed. "Now that would be a problem." He squeezed my hand.

We pulled into the parking lot and he asked if I would like to come up for a bit. "Not tonight," I said, "I should be getting home. It's already 9:30."

He turned towards me, my face cleaning wiped of any remnants of tears. "Sweetheart. What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He knew. He knew and I didn't have to say anything. We sat for a bit and I kept telling my heart to keep quiet. I hate when I get overly emotional. I don't want to be like that. And that's when I knew I needed to take my pride and sit on it.

"I'm sorry I've been adding to your stress."

"What? What are you talking about?"

It seemed so obvious to me. "The texting. I know you've said it was a little much before, but you never expressed the annoyance until tonight, when we were with Nathan. And I don't want you to have to walk on egg shells when you speak to me. You could have just told me you were annoyed. I don't want you to need a third party just to tell me how you really feel.."

I was being a bit dramatic. Maybe.

"I realized something tonight about myself. The reasons behind my trivial actions."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I think I text you and call you and tell you I love you and miss you and admire you and can't wait to marry you so much because" I started to choke up, "because I don't trust." I paused. "When Nathan read the love verse in 1st Corinthians he asked us which part we struggle with the most. You answered irritability. He didn't give me a chance to answer."

"Huh. That's right."

"It's trust. I think it's trust and I hate that. I want to hear 'I love you's all the time because I'm so afraid that I won't be enough to make someone stay." I lost it. Tears cascaded down my face is turrets. "I think I go over the top and invest SO much in you because I don't want you to ever forget, ever doubt or ever wonder if my love is as deep for you as I say it is. And I need to trust you more. Trust that when you say you love me, you love me. And I shouldn't need to be reminded all the time."

We talked about my past and the people that I felt like I hurt and how they left and we talked about his inability to get excited until the anticipated moment arrives. We talked and I cried as he unbuckled his seat belt and reached over into the passenger seat to take me in his arms. "You are enough, Samantha. You, just you, are enough."

I just don't believe that about myself yet. I try, and sometimes I think that man is dang lucky ;] But some days, I am afraid he will forget. And really, it's not about him, it's about me. It's about selfishness. And I was humbled last night when I realized that maybe I text too much not because I want him to hear my words of love, but because I need to hear them to make me feel lovable. Because if I knew it irritated him, I would have stopped texting so frequently. I mean, come on, I'm the reason the man is on a texting plan.

Pre-marital counseling is ESSENTIAL to undergo before you are married. In two sessions accumulating to four hours, I have learned more about Eric's needs and how to voice and define my own needs. I have learned that Eric is not going to change and neither am I. We are who we are and that's okay--quirks and all. And even though two people have a fairy tale story line that would make any Hollywood producer jealous, we are two individual human beings who, though so similar, have different wants, needs and desires. In a test we took, we learned that Eric is the "captain" of the ship and I am the "steward" (based on scoring and such). Eric can be too direct and appear insensitive whereas I attract the hurting, use too many words and need emotional security. We are who we are, but we are both needed to make the ship function. Relationships are fascinating--absolutely fascinating.

I can't wait for our married life to begin, but I'm so thankful to God for the adventure we are already living. <3

round.

2010-02-18T12:29:00.001-05:00

Hey
You can say you fit in like a joker in the deck
But now you're skipping like a broken record goin' round
and round
You're the last to ask for help.

[Dear Daughtry,
Love your music.

-Me]

baby.

2010-02-16T16:51:00.002-05:00

My BEAUTIFUL nephew was born this morning at 4 a.m.

all i want to do

2010-02-11T13:25:00.003-05:00

...is give my life to You.

All I wanna do is give this life to You.

But sometimes, in the midst of a wonderful moment, there is the fleeting shadow of the past. I said I moved past it, forgave it, forgot it. But then a nightmare brings me back to that place of confusion. A conversation sparks a memory. I know I have control over those thoughts that I sincerely and wholeheartedly forgave. I promised. I forgave. Forgave. Past tense.

I know that I can choose to dwell and feed those thoughts or I can choose to denounce them, humiliate them, and crush them in the face of the One who conquers all of our pasts. I can choose to linger in my selfish thoughts and succumb to the evil one's power to call me unworthy. I can listen to his lies. And believe them. I can believe the lie that the future will be compromised. That the past will infiltrate my marriage.

No.

I won't allow it. I have said on numerous occasions that I will do everything in my power to protect us. I cannot control when Satan appears metaphorically in my dreams. I am in an unconscious state. I cannot control that. However, when I wake, I can make a decision--convince myself it's a form of truth. Or laugh in the face of Satan's pathetic way of trying to destroy something grand. I can focus on the nightmare or focus on worshiping the Lord in the car, on my way to class and in the classroom. I can focus on Jesus and me and Eric and myself and the love triangle that makes this joy I have inexplicably possible.

How does doubt slip in, so silently?
And why does condemnation come so naturally?
Why do I still get the best of me?
Loving so little and living so selfishly?

Those lyrics echo such a truth into my heart. How does doubt slip in? Why do I still get the best of me? Why does condemnation come naturally? Why? Because I serve a mighty King and because I do, Satan has every more reason to attack my heart and my mind. He doesn't need to go after the ones who don't believe in Jesus because Satan already has them where he wants them. I, on the other hand, am striving to make Jesus proud. And Satan hates that. He loathes it. So, doubt and condemnation and selfishness come naturally because it's just that--natural. My faith can be so fragile at times. I lose my faith and trust in not just what Christ has promised me, but in the ones that I love the most because it is so much easier to trust myself. My faith is so fragile at times. But that's what makes me human. I am meant to be breakable and pliable. I am not made of stone. And I refuse to live that way.

The enemy has easy access to your heart the moment you give him a foothold in your mind. He got there today. He got there and I dwelt and I was nearly brought to tears as memories and thoughts and images flooded my head. But he won't stay there. Because I serve a mighty and awesome and gracious God. And the bottom line is that regardless of what life throws at me, I can only hope and pray that my one desire remains true: I want to give this life to Him. Over and over and over again. Because often times, I take it back. I make it mine. And it's not.

It's His.

gift.

2010-02-08T12:25:00.002-05:00

Eric-Thomas and I had our first pre-marriage counseling session last Thursday. It was absolutely fantastic. We talked about our goals for marriage, why we want to get married, why we want to get married now, and how God is directing us in this journey. We turned to one another and listed two positive things about the other's personality and we managed to discuss one potentially negative aspect as well. And we managed to discuss those negatives without hurt feelings ;] Nathan, the pastor who is marrying us is a wonderful man of God. What a blessing it is to have someone who is so filled with the Holy Spirit. He knows Eric from the inside out; he's known him since he was so young. And he testifies how he has grown in the Lord since his adolescent days. As we sat there, discussing our future marriage, Nathan asked some difficult questions. He asked some deep questions and he asked some questions that made me want to talk for hours.

Why do you want to get married now? Why is this time the best time? Why not later?

Hi. May I have an hour of your time to answer this question? As I contemplated how to answer this in a way that was concise while effectively bearing my entire heart, I came up with this: I am a better person when I am with Eric-Thomas and I am more effective for the Lord while being with him. Nathan, I want to set the world on fire for Jesus Christ. I want the world to burn passionately for Him. And I can do this more effectively with Eric by my side.

Pretty good answer, eh? It's so true though. I am entirely certain that I can do more for Jesus with Eric as my husband. He encourages me, pushes me, challenges me, and keeps me accountable. He has fostered me to grow in my relationship with Jesus and constantly reminds me to put my trust in the One who created it all. God has used him as such a example of His truth and promises. I am honored to one day be Eric's wife for all these reasons and more.

He asked us hard questions, do you think you can be compatible with more than one person? What if you meet someone down the road and you think they are more compatible with you than your spouse?

It won't happen. Know why? Because I have a fantastical view of marriage. And because God has shown me truth in the story of Adam and Eve. Adam was alone and God didn't like it. So He made Eve. He didn't make five Eves and tell Adam to pick the most suitable one--the one he liked the most. No. God created ONE Eve. And he created her to be perfectly suitable for Adam. Not perfect. Perfectly suitable. And if God is a never-changing God, then I believe he continued this tradition. He makes one woman for one man. Do I think I'm compatible with other men? Sure. I can be compatible, but that doesn't mean that that person will fill the hole in my heart that God created for only Eric to fill. Compatibility means getting along. It means working together with. It is similar to a roommate situation. I can live with multiple roommates and get along with some and not get along with others. I can be a compatible with multiple roommates, but I was intended to live with Eric.

And as far as if I meet someone later that may fill various needs that perhaps Eric isn't filling at the time--yes, this is possible. But it won't happen. Let me explain. I adore Eric-Thomas and I love him more than anything on this earth (barring my relationship with Jesus of course!), and I will do everything in my power to make him feel respected. Eric does the same. He "bounces" his eyes. When he sees an attractive woman walking or jogging down the street or provocatively dressed, he makes the conscious decision to remove his eyes from the image and look elsewhere. Men are visually stimulated. Women are emotionally stimulated. In the same way Eric bounces his eyes, I bounce my conversations. If I am having an enthralling conversation with a man who loves the Lord, there is potential for me to become attracted to his heart. That's a danger zone. Therefore, I make the conscious effort to maintain platonic and surface level conversations with men other than my almost-husband. Does this mean I don't talk to men? Of course not! Kevin is one of my closest friends. But I don't talk to him about my emotional hurts and needs and dreams. I save those for Eric. And Kevin and I still maintain a wonderful friendship. I guard my lips and Eric guards his eyes. That way we always are ready to protect this amazing and beautiful blessing the Lord has given us.

Nathan talked to us about exes and past loves. That was awkward. But it needed to be done. And quite honestly, no new information was passed between Eric and I. We've already covered the past and moved away from it. We've accepted what was, but have moved forward to what is and what will be.

I felt so strengthened and renewed when leaving the church. I felt like Eric and I re-verbalized everything that we find endearing about each other. I felt loved and pursued and ecstatic about our pending marriage and our wedding day. Nathan put such an extraordinary emphasis on our vows and how we will know our vows so well by the end of our sessions. He believes that our vows will be different from anyone else's--that they are so personal and so unique to us. He says they are foundational to our marriage. We have to decide what we want to promise one another because that is what our marriage will stand on. I am so excited to begin writing my vows to Eric-Thomas. There are so many things I want to say and yet, I have to make sure I can fulfill the promises I make. I also have to make sure to save some of my most heartfelt thoughts for after our ceremony. Words that will only be had between the two of us. And I am thrilled to one day hang the vows we wrote to each other on the wall of our bedroom.

The only question I did not have an answer for was when Nathan got personal. What are your spiritual gifts? I stared at the wall of Pez dispensers (yes, you read that correctly...there are hundreds of them in his office) and cocked my head to the right. Hmph. Good question. I honestly have no idea.

Well, what do you want to do with your life?

I want to write. That's all I know. And serve God with all my heart.

We will definitely discover your spiritual gifts by the time you are married. This will be exciting.

I'm pumped. And perplexed. I have no idea the spiritual gifts that God has blessed me with. Is loving the Lord a whole lot a spiritual gift? Because if it is, I got that one! But no, in all seriousness, I'm not sure what my gifts are, or if I have any. I hope to discover at least one though, because then that means I can serve the Lord even more if I can recognize the areas in which I am gifted.

I can't imagine someone having as much joy as I have in my heart. I am blessed beyond my wildest dreams and so humbled by the gift of love God has bestowed on me. I am so honored to be Eric's wife and so undeserving of a love so transparent and so deep and so faithful. I am undeserving, but I am honored.

I cannot imagine all the plans that God has in store.

last.

2010-01-26T14:51:00.002-05:00

It's the last first day of school. Ever. I've said it so many times in my head, out loud, on paper, and still it has not fully registered. I mean, let's think about it, I am a senior. I am graduating college in May. I have no idea what I want to do with my degree except write--and you can't get more broad than that. I'm going to be an aunt any day now. I'm moving to a new town. And I'm getting married. Jeez Louise, 2010 is going to be a year of change, adjustment and surprise. And all that is happening by June! I am thrilled for the journey. I really and truly am. It just hasn't fully sunk in yet.

On another note, this semester should be interesting. Two classes down, one left to go for today and two new ones for tomorrow. So far, so good. The first class is going to stretch me, I know it. It's a literature class. Surprise surprise, I know. I love books, I love words and I love language. And this particular class uses one text: the Bible. You are probably thinking, dream class, right? Maybe. It could be. It also could not be. We are looking at the text from a narrative, textual perspective. We are not studying it as Scripture, as divinely inspired, or wholly and entirely Truth. We are looking it from a literary perspective. We will examine plot, characterization, dialogue and structure. Hm. Should be intriguing, to say the least. Our first assignment? The beginning. Genesis. He told us to ask questions, like, "why would the main character, God, choose to span the creation of the world over seven days? What does this say about his character?" Good question. Essentially, the professor sees the Bible as an extraordinary work of literature that spans many years and tells of the story of this "God" and his unending battle with coexisting with humanity which fails on numerous occasions. He sees the book as a set of stories. A novella, almost.

Interesting.

I think this particular class may be my favorite and my least favorite. I have a feeling I will disagree on many levels and yearn to dissect the theological truths. I know I am going to argue when he teaches that Jonah and the whale was a fable and simply "symbolic." And I know it is going to unravel my mind while I watch my peers and fellow scholars read the Bible cover to cover and yet remain unchanged. I think my heart will hurt. And yet, I think that examining the Bible from a literary perspective will change the way I approach the Word of God while conversing with other people. I think the class will cause me to ask questions I never would have necessarily asked since I take the Word of God to be truth. I don't question it or ask things like, "why did God create the earth in seven days and not all at once?" I've never questioned it because, well, He's GOD! Someone who is approaching the Bible as a novel, however, might question that and the choices God made as revealing facts about His character. I think that could be true. And I think looking at it from a different angle could be enlightening. And other times...I may just want to have an alter call!

It's strange how God works. To us, anyways. To Him, it wouldn't make sense any other way. But I think in the months leading up to my marriage, that God is going to reveal Himself in ways that He hasn't--through a secular Bible class. Who knew, right?

I only hope that maybe, just maybe, someones life is changed. That the words of Christ come alive for the students in the class and that they come to recognize that this literary work is far different from any other Shakespeare, Kant or Rousseau that they have ever read. That it is relevant, real, and revolutionary.

And that it is the greatest literary work ever written.

God:

2010-01-22T21:29:00.001-05:00

is always teaching me that only He can fulfill all my needs.

then.

2010-01-20T15:46:00.000-05:00

I remember, trying not to stare the night that I first met you
You had me mezmorized
And three weeks later, in the front porch light
taking forty-five minutes to kiss goodnight
I hadn't told you yet
but I thought I loved you then

Chorus

And now you're my whole life
now you're my whole world
I just can't believe the way I feel about you, girl
Like a river meets the sea,
stronger than it's ever been.
We've come so far since that day
And I thought I loved you then

And i remember, taking you back to right where I first met you,
You were so surprised
There were people around, but I didn't care
Got down on one knee right there once again,
I thought I loved you then

Chorus

And now you're my whole life
now you're my whole world
I just can't believe the way I feel about you, girl
Like a river meets the sea,
stronger than it's ever been.
We've come so far since that day
And I thought I loved you then

I could just see you, with a baby on the way
And I could just see you, when your hair is turning gray
What I can't see is how I'm ever gonna love you more
But I've said that before

And now you're my whole life
now you're my whole world
I just can't believe the way I feel about you, girl
We'll look back someday, at this moment that we're in
And I'll look at you and say
And I thought I loved you then
And I thought I loved you then

change.

2010-01-19T14:54:00.002-05:00

I shouldn't reject change. No. Change can be good. Change means growth. But not all the time. Certainly when change inhibits the refinement of one's heart, I shouldn't demand silence or in any way demand that he or she no longer develop into who they are to become. But change can be hard. Especially when it's not in my control and especially when I see the ill effects that change can have.

I have boxes and boxes of trinkets and letters and notes from those I have held close to my heart. I have a wooden trunk beneath my bed littered with awards and cards and the like from grade school and junior high. I most recently found a small box I had neglected put away with the rest. A box of cards and letters from one year. A very prominent year. A year that marked signifcant change in my own life. A year when I learned to be free from myself and rely more heavily on the Lord. A year when I felt alone. A year when I lived far away but took a train home every weekend. A year where I blossomed into more of the woman that God intended me to be. The year I found my way back.

The letters from that year vary in length and size, but they are marked with a measure of hope and encouragement from someone very close to my heart. The words scripted between the folds of paper seem so drastically different from what would be written there today. I miss those days. I miss that hope and trust and glimmer. Maybe that's what it was...a sparkle. Something bright that seems to have dimmed.

Change occurs most often when we least expect and least desire it to take place. But it happens. And there is nothing one can do but sit back and watch it all unfold as if examining a play from the audience's perspective. The only change that I can manipulate is the change within myself. For now, I must focus on me. Focus on what I need to do and where I need to go in order to live a life more boldly characterized by Jesus' influence.

And in the meantime, I need to pray more diligently. With more steadfast earnest.

For that is the only way in which I am responsible.

every little thing.

2010-01-10T23:07:00.003-05:00

I'm pretty sure I love every little thing about you.

I love how you make me laugh.
I love that you have a child's heart;
Innocent and full.
I love that I can be anything with you,
That I can be silly, that I can be silent, that I can cry
And you are always at the center of it all.
I love that you can act like a boy and be silly,
But you can be a man and treat me like the only woman on earth.
I love how you protect me
Provide for me
Hold me
Pray for me
Tickle me
Tease me
Kiss me
and love me.
I love how you love.
You love without boundaries.
No walls. No limits.
Unconditional.
I love your quirks.
I love how you respect me--
respect us.
I love that your eyes know only me.
I love how you treasure me.
I love that you make fun of my driving.
[sometimes]
I love that you wipe my car off after it has snowed.
That you pay attention to the things I don't say.
I love that you can carry me and pick me up.
I love your voice.
I love that it can change my mood.
I love when you dance with me.
Please dance with me more.
I love that you love to romance me.
I love your confidence.
I love your sense of humor and your silly jokes.
I love all your vocal impressions and your playful accents.
I love when you speak Spanish.
I love how you celebrate everything and anything.
I love your goofiness.
I love your heart.
I love how I can see Jesus in you.
I love to love you.
I just love, love, love to love you.
More than anything in the world.

It doesn't get better than this.

It simply can't.
:]

dillon.

2010-01-06T15:49:00.001-05:00

Do You see something there?

beauty

2009-12-23T16:02:00.003-05:00

Who determines the beautiful? How important is one's physical appearance? Is not beauty found in the glimmer of the eyes? The way you walk and speak? In they way you see life? Beauty is superficial, fleeting.

True beauty can be seen in the dark, no? Because the beautiful are those that have light on the inside.

Why this quest for tight skin, long luxurious hair, porcelain skin, lean legs, taunt abs, and perfect posture. If I see beauty is something that exceeds the outer appearance, than do others? A beautiful woman that speaks terribly about others instantly seems cold and calloused to me every time I see her physically. What was beautiful at first glance is not tainted. How do you define what is beautiful?

If the women and men in my life define beauty in terms that are hardly physical, why do we seek to perfect the physical? Should we not focus more attention on our hearts? The nonphysical features that so many attribute to beauty?

I find it perplexing.

Especially that I fall into the very trap that seems so outlandish.

memory.

2009-12-22T22:50:00.002-05:00

I want to remember everything. Not some things. Everything. God has given me such a precious and extraordinary love and I don't want to forget a single moment, a single whispered promise or accolade, every kiss, every joke, every laugh and giggle, every stroke, every look and every touch. I am so afraid of losing memories. I sit here in anguish wondering why I didn't write everything down. I read stories from our beginning and wondered why I haven't written as much since. Is time really keeping me from preserving what matters most? I want to share what I have and I want Eric and I to be able to reminisce. I want to conjure up the feelings I felt in that moment.

For our two year anniversary, Eric gave me a lovely gift. Seventy-seven prayers. Three prayers a week until our wedding day--prayers he has for our marriage and life together. And then there is a letter on the bottom of the jar that he wants me to read on the morning of our wedding day. And then finally, I am to pack the jar, with the number 22 etched on the bottom. And I am to bring the jar with me to the hotel. He says it is very important and that he will explain everything when we get there. Could I ask for a more endearing husband? He is absolutely wonderful. Extraordinary. He knows my love language. I never want to forget moments like this. Moments where I sat in the chair in his dorm room, read the letter amidst heaps of clothes with tears streaming from my face. It was perfect. So perfect. These moments, with their emotions and beauty...I want to immortalize them. I'm so afraid of losing what is so precious to me.

So I need to write more. I need to write more and then I need to print what I write and correlate them into pages of my love story. Because when I am gone I want to leave a legacy of love and I want people to be able to share in the greatness of Godly love. And I want my husband to know how blessed I was and how priceless his love is to me. I want him to look back and remember. Remember that he was the best thing that ever happened to me. And that he'll be able to see that I have tried my best to be the best thing that has ever happened to him.

A chord of three stands is not easily broken.

Baby...with Jesus by our side, we will be unstoppable for Him.

place.

2009-12-02T13:46:00.003-05:00

I'm in that place. That place when the world exists and moves around you, but you can't seem to find your place amidst the madness. The world is moving. Fast. Circling. Like roller skates and ferris wheels. Like spinning pottery. Centered just so. Molding, shaping, creating. And there you are. Standing there. Hands by your side, limp. Watching and waiting. Waiting for things to stop twirling and twisting so you can see the intricate details.

That's where I am. Inside the snow globe, in my own glass orb, peering through crystal smeared by tiny fingers. Blurry, but vivid. Silent, but loud. I see it all around me. I see them as they dance their way unknowingly through life; unaware. From my own little corner in my globe. I watch the happenings unmoving. Still. Standing. Watching. Waiting. Waiting for something to break, something to stop. Something to shatter on the ground like glass. So they all see that this doesn't last forever.

I'm in a different place. A place that's quiet and pensive. A place of peace and promise. They are lost in the chaos. Peace and happiness, real joy, can come at a cost. It means being on the sidelines and stepping further ahead. But it's okay. Happiness depends on what happens. Joy. Joy is something different. Something constant.

The world is moving. Spinning.

And I'm still waiting.

it's just like you said.

2009-11-24T12:19:00.002-05:00

if it was just you and me...

politics.

2009-11-12T11:08:00.002-05:00

Let's talk about politics. And about how much I hate them. In today's culture it is like right against left and no in between. That concept is silly. Certainly it is impossible to categorize individualized beings into cookie-cutter groups without having some fall outside the lines of one and blur into the other. I just don't get it. I don't understand why each side is stretching itself thin to prove his or her belief to the other side. Debate is necessary, don't get me wrong, but why can't we have civil public discourse? Why is there a right and wrong as opposed to different sets of values? What I value may not be what you value, and that's okay. If we all valued different things than some important groups of people would be left out of the system.

We are imperfect people navigating an imperfect society. There has to be room for error. It should be less about who's right and who's wrong and more about listening. I don't understand why people can't put aside their preconceived notions and open themselves up to a variety of opinions. Certainly you are entitled to make the final say on where you stand, but not before educating yourself with the other side of the equation. Case in point: I am a pro-life advocate. But I became a pro-life advocate after examining the beliefs and values of the pro-choice movement. Taking into consideration their values of individualism and a woman's right over her own body (all good arguments), I chose what is considered the "right wing" belief. As someone who has a very strong faith in Jesus Christ, I weighed my moral beliefs against those of society, and although I agree with some of their values, the sanctity of life and my beliefs that life begins at the moment of conception has brought me to advocate for the right of the child (or fetus).

There is a considerable debate surrounding the legitimacy of Fox News channel. Some say it is unethical to consider it a news station as it is (to some) very conservative in its approach and does not present the news without right wing bias. The heat of this debate started when the President chose not to include Fox in his series of road table discussions, though he met with every other national news source. Though I agree that Fox News should not present journalism with a bias, neither should other news stations. I find that when I am watching television that various channels take stabs at the conservative side. Shouldn't that be seen just as biased as the only conservative channel on cable? I don't watch as much news as I would like to, and therefore can not give too much opinion on how Fox presents its news, however, I do watch Fox News on occasion and from what I can tell, the straight news seems unbiased to me. Now, I do not watch their commentary. But at the same time, if there are liberal channels, why wouldn't a conservative channel be able to articulate their opinion. If it's opinion journalism (which is a form of journalism) would that not be allowed? Simply because the President is not supported on all of his projects and stances does not mean he should not include them in a round table discussion. Are we seeking conformity? Certainly that is not cohesive to our desire for a democratic society. And at the same time, if Fox News is reporting with a biased edge, I understand the President's concern because NO journalism agency should report from a biased standpoint. Our job is to present the truth--the facts, the quotes, the numbers the quantitative analysis. Leave the qualitative to opinion journalists. If you have an opinion, keep it. But don't slant your news. That's not what journalism stands for. Journalists should uphold a public forum where all views and expressions can be brought to the table. It is where the community can express their opinions. Journalists provide the information, the public incorporate and form their own opinions; we should not dictate what they should or should not believe.

Politics make me angry. Because there are so many inconsistencies.

My point: listen to one another. Don't approach a political discussion attempting to convert the opposing side. Listen. Listen genuinely. I'm so tired of the he said/she said debates. I'm tired of being told what my values are as an individual simply because I may side one way or another way on a particular topic. I applaud those who have strong views on either side of the spectrum. But, and I'm talking to myself as well, step off your high horse and engage and honest civil discussion with one another. Engage as equals. Remember, we are imperfect people attempting to navigate an imperfect world. Perhaps, in the end, there is no right answer.

one of those.

2009-10-28T09:25:00.000-04:00

Go here:
If you click on this link, then I get points for sharing. That's all. ;)

http://www.campuslive.com/homepage/20673

fiction.

2009-10-26T12:51:00.003-04:00

I've discovered something rather illuminating and very important:
Fiction is not my genre.
I will not write fiction.

Knowing this makes me feel better about this semester.
Some pressure is off.
Fiction is not me.
So don't expect a snapshot of novel-esque literature.
It's not me.
God has a different plan.
And He gave me a sneak peek today.

milk.

2009-10-15T11:15:00.002-04:00

There is this place that I often frequent four days a week. Maybe more. I buy a small cup of hot coffee every single time--unless I'm cranking out a massive paper and need four more ounces of caffeine. It's in the library on campus and it's name is Zeke's. I love this place. The coffee is good and the protein bars are laced in chocolate peanut butter which makes me very happy. The girls that work the counter are dolls and since I visit so often I should probably make an effort to get to know them a bit more.

Zeke's and I have never encountered a problem that has truly influenced our relationship in a negative context. There has been the occasional instance in which they run out of Splenda, but this is always a bittersweet situation. In fact, I have quit Splenda (mostly) and it has resulted in a much more contented digestive system. So really, it's not really a issue.

What is a problem is what happened today. There was no half-n-half. Now, I understand that this cannot be helped by the employees. Food and merchandise and products are delivered on a weekly or bi-weekly, or possibly even a tri-weekly basis since this is a college campus. I know that the lovely baristas who work the counter cannot control how much product they go through and what is in and out of stock. But they could take preventative measures. To explain this I need to lay out the demographics.

If you are looking into the room the ordering station is on the right and on the far corner the cream and sugar station stands by itself against the wall adjacent to where you enter. Now, if you are anything like me, you bee-line it straight for the coffee (which should really be inserted into your arm intravenously to protect the greater society--I exaggerate). In doing so, you completely miss the counter that holds the coffee condiments.

I propose this: put a dang sign on the counter that list the products that are missing from the table on the other side of the room. Because quite frankly, I am a picky coffee drinker--thank you, mom for that obviously genetic quality. If I had known there was no cream, I would have walked the two tenths of a mile to BNG and gotten myself a real cup of coffee. Rather, I paid for black coffee only to be disappointed--scratch that, thoroughly peeved--when it was discovered that they were out of the necessary ingredients to perfect the calculated ratio of cream to sugar.

Instead, I was forced to hold up an ever growing line of impatient students as I poured, then sipped, shook my head, added more, dumped more, stirred, sipped and perfected my 12 oz coffee.

Oh, Zekes. You could avoid such tragedy if you posted a sign. Please, for the love of coffee, post a sign.