on sex & souls

One of our students shared this video recently on Facebook, called Sexual Healing. The young man's passion and conviction reminds me of my students who wrote and performed their own poems at last year's Poetry Cafe.

It's worth watching, if not for this one line:

If sex is just for fun, why does it take such a toll?...
Because you don't just have sex with a body, you have sex with a soul.

on Day 151

I'll whisper this very quietly so as not to disturb anyone:

Sometimes I forget my wedding is in 5 months.

Don't mistake me: I remember every single day that I'm marrying the love of my life. It's just that sometimes, when people ask me about wedding details, I stumble a bit and then my brain says, "Oh, that's right! You're having a wedding in October!"

And you know what? I think that's okay.

I think it's okay that I anticipate the day when I will just be married to Jon more than the day I actually get married to Jon. Does that make sense?

I have it on good authority (namely, the opinions of the godly women I'm surrounded by) that it is beneficial that my priorities have fallen in this order. It's when women spend too much time preparing for the wedding and not enough time preparing for the marriage that couples get into trouble, or so they tell me.

In the meantime, I'll keep looking to my sweet, strong mother to negotiate contracts and keep details in check and remind me of timelines. But I'll forgive myself for forgetting that my wedding is in 150 days because I am too caught up in the wonder of Days 151 and following.

I might need you, my dear friends, to give me a little extra grace, too, okay? Thanks a million.

we fell in love and we're getting married, cont.

If you're just joining us, you should first read Parts I & II of this story. I'm very excited to have a terrific guest blogger join me: my handsome fiancé, Jonathan Keller.

Recap: We're on the 95th floor of the Hancock Center in Chicago. Maggie still hasn't figured out what's going on, and Jon is getting tense--it's time to ask a question!

Part III: The Proposal

On the other side of the lounge, Jon and I moved around tables of other seated parties, trying to get a good look at the lake and city lights. Standing near the back corner, Jon put his arm around me and thanked me for coming to Chicago to spend time with his friends. I still thought he was just being sweet, and I pointed out that his friends were becoming mine as well. I hadn’t really planned a speech. I needed to bring up the subject of, you know, asking Maggie to spend the rest of her life with me. Thankfully, she gave me a window by mentioning my friends.

Then Jon told me he had ulterior motives for inviting me to Chicago this weekend.

And suddenly, I knew. For sure and for certain, I knew.

He said he loved getting to know me the past 6 months, and in fact, he loved me! He told me he had invited our friends to join us this weekend. I thought, Oh they couldn’t make it, but that’s sweet he invited them! I named them one by one—they were waiting one floor below us! He told me we were here because he had a question to ask me. My eyes grew big, and I whispered, “Nooooo!” Jon grinned and said, “Oh, yes.”

Which is roughly when my brain detached from my body. Jon may have to correct the following details, because everything got a bit fuzzy for me. I was a little worried: if you know Maggie, she faints easily, and she hadn’t eaten much all day. Plus she had mono!

It was a bit surreal for me as well. This was a moment I had been waiting for my whole life. Perhaps movies or books had convinced me that time would slow down, that music would start playing, that this moment would somehow be more real. In reality it was a moment that passed like any other. Yet the joy in Maggie’s eyes and the relief in my heart were quite palpable. It was a moment that was very full. I wish I could have slowed it down to analyze it and find out how I felt about it, but all I could do was act.

He drew back, got down on one knee, and held a white ring box in his hand. From over my shoulder I heard a lady say, “Oh my gosh, he’s proposing!” Mercifully, Jon cut right to the chase: “Margaret Emma, will you marry me?”

To be honest, I was caught off guard. I had dreamed of this moment, wished it to happen, and even thought about what I would say. I wanted to be eloquent, gracious, ready with the perfect acceptance. Something like: “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.” or “Yes. Yes today, yes tomorrow and the day after, yes every day for the rest of our lives.” I wanted the perfect response...that's the actress in me! Just in case you didn’t know: I’m going to marry a movie star!

I think I said 4 words: I, love, you, yes. Super eloquent. I was just glad she didn’t faint.

In whatever order my words came out, Jon understood what I meant. I leaned down, took the ring box, pulled him to his feet, wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him real good. I asked him to put the ring on my finger, and as he did so, he explained—again, because I missed it the first time—that our friends were, indeed, waiting downstairs. “They’re all here,” Jon repeated, “Jake, Spencer & Marj, Laura, Amanda & Kyle, Dan, Drew & Alison, and Claire & Tyler sent a letter.” And that’s when I became more or less absurdly emotional.

Her tears started to swell earlier than this, but they definitely started flowing when she realized that all of these friends were here to celebrate with us. It took a while for it to sink in for me. I’m apparently not one of those people who gets flooded with relief. After she said yes, my body wasn’t ready to completely relax, but at least the tension wasn’t building anymore!

Remember back in Part I, when we explained how our community has been a foundation for us? They have been crucial in the development of our relationship – they introduced us! Both Jon and I were made for community: we thrive in it, prioritize it, and are blessed by it. Having our friends and loved ones there to celebrate made the difference between the perfect night and the best night of our lives. It moved me to tears that our friends loved us so much. This is how we roll.

Part IV: The Party

After I had a chance to stare at the bling on my finger (oh, it’s definitely bling), giggle ridiculously, and check with Jon to make sure I’d actually said yes out loud, we made our way downstairs to the welcoming surprise party. Hugs all around!

Dan had been stealthily wandering around upstairs with Spencer and Marj’s camera and a massive lens. Unfortunately, he was unaware of the ring box/wallet dilemma, so he wasn’t checking the area where we were. After we came back downstairs and everyone congratulated us, people started asking, “Where’s Dan?” He eventually found his way downstairs, too, but feigned annoyance: “Where WERE you guys?”

Dinner at the Signature Room was fantastic. Obviously, there were the lights of the city, Lake Michigan, and an elegant ambiance. In addition, we had spectacular wait-service although they were a little surprised that someone my age would order what we did: between the 11 of us, I made sure we ordered every appetizer, most of the entrees, and most of the desserts on the menu!
Most importantly, we had a chance to celebrate around the table. In lot of ways we were breaking bread like the disciples did with Jesus. Being able to enjoy a wonderful meal with close friends was a taste of heaven. For many of us, it was the best meal of our lives. So far.

During dinner, the calls and texts started flying. Jon texted practically everyone he knew to let them know I’d said yes. He even included a directive not to post anything on Facebook until we’d had a chance to tell our grandparents (oh, proposals in the 21st century!). I called my college roommates from the bathroom; we’d celebrated our graduation at the Signature Room nearly two years ago. Jon and I were anxious to share the good news! Over champagne toasts, dessert fireworks, and much laughter, our group celebrated life, love, and the God who makes it all possible.

We left the Hancock Center for the W Lakeshore to continue the party with more city views. A limo driver happened to be sitting outside the Hancock and offered to drive us!
Several people in our group had never been in a limo—Jon included—and this unexpected treat made the night all the more memorable! $5 a person...how could I say no?

At the W, we visited the Sky Lounge and the bouncers even ushered us into Altitude, the rotating rooftop banquet room with panoramic views of the city. We were the only ones in there, too, so it was pretty spectacular! I love the W, whether it’s Hollywood, Silicon Valley, Manhattan, Foshay Tower, City Center, or Lakeshore...they’ve always treated me well.

We wrapped up the night at The Living Room, the W’s main-floor lounge. I was fading fast, and we had a flight to catch the next morning. Our party dispersed and Jon and I caught the Metra back to Hyde Park. We were so absorbed in talking and dreaming about our wedding, we nearly missed our stop! Jon yelled, “This is it!” and dashed out of the train car, while I sprinted to catch up. I figured I could hold the door while Maggie caught up. I also didn’t want to be walking around an unfamiliar part of South Chicago at 1:30 AM on Sunday morning.

Sunday morning, we enjoyed brunch at Medici with Dan, Drew and Alison before our flight back to Minneapolis. Of the 36 hours we spent in Chicago, the final 16 as an engaged couple were the most surreal, the most full, the most rewarding. In the words of Rebecca Black, “We, we, we so excited!”

We are grateful to Dan and Janelle, Drew and Alison, Spencer and Marie, Kyle and Amanda, Laura, and Jake for celebrating with us in person and to the countless others who celebrated with us in spirit. We are grateful to our family for their support and blessing. We are grateful to our friends for praying for us. And we’re grateful to you all, for reading our story and being a part of our journey toward becoming one. The weekend went perfectly, and that is only by the grace of God. Thank you very much for your support and prayers.




And if you thought this story was good...

We are eagerly anticipating our wedding the evening of October 14th. We guarantee it will be the hottest party of the year, and we know it will be the new best night of our lives!











Special thanks and photo credit: Spencer and Marjorie Howell

basically, we fell in love and we're getting married

Despite the fact that I've always dreamed about writing this story, I can't do it alone. I’ve asked Jonathan McCrary Keller--guest blogger extraordinaire and my fiance--to help me tell what has become very much our story. I’m thrilled to be able to help out. I've never blogged before so bear with me.

We have attempted to be purposefully detailed for the sake of faraway friends and family who aren't able to hear us tell the story in person. Today's installment is the first half...stay tuned for the part where he asks me a question and [spoiler alert:] I say yes!

Part I: The Beginning

In the beginning, God had this all planned out. He has orchestrated, directed, and guided us in this entire process. Also in the beginning was a terrific community of friends and loved ones. We have been rooted deeply in this group of believers and have been well-supported, well-loved, and well-grounded. We are grateful for their guidance and accountability.

When I met Jon at a dinner party last August, I had no idea that the tuxedo-clad co-host with a penchant for bow ties and marathon running would win my heart so completely, so quickly. When I met Mags at Filet Friday Formal on Saturday, I knew immediately that I wanted to spend more time with her.

Turns out, when you know, you just know. And we knew. Very quickly, we knew. I almost bought an engagement ring within a few weeks of dating Maggie. Thankfully, I waited and was able to get something she really liked.

Part II: The Set-Up

In February, Jon’s friends Drew and Alison invited us to the Chicago Cubs' season opener on April 2nd. So we made plans and bought airplane tickets. And all the while, I thought I was going for baseball. Technically, Drew bought the tickets and it was Drew's idea. I just paid for it. :) The entire engagement planning process, I asked the help of numerous friends and family. I also prayed a lot. Our friends and family prayed even more.

Then, two Sundays ago, I discovered I had mono. I took the week off from work to rest. And suddenly, everyone wanted to know if I was still going to Chicago. Wow, I thought, this baseball game is a bigger deal than I thought! I tried to downplay her needing to go to Chicago; I even suggested that she might not have to go...all the while hoping and praying desperately that she would still be able to.

So we went to Chicago. Not really for baseball. But I didn't know that.

There were a couple hiccups on Friday night: things I noticed and things I completely missed. Jon was very late picking me up for our flight, and I was nearly frantic! I kept pacing the house, getting more and more upset that he was so late! I showed up at her place about 55 minutes before our flight left...I had to pick up the ring!

Later that night, in the cab leaving Midway airport, I tried to make a joke about Jon’s intelligence which completely backfired, thus proving that I am not the funny one and should just stop trying altogether. On the way to Hyde Park, Maggie freaked me out. She asked about dinner on Saturday and I said, "All I know is that we have to wear nice clothes." Maggie quipped, "That's not all you know." I almost had a heart attack...did she know???? Had one of the 50-plus people I told spilled the beans??? No, she was just joking. I HATE not being fully open or honest with someone—even if it is for a surprise.

We stayed with Drew and Alison in Hyde Park, and all of us met up with Dan, Jon's friend from high school for the game Saturday. On the way, I asked Jon about dinner plans, since he had promised me a fancy dinner in the city. Jon acted like he couldn’t remember and asked Dan, who casually mentioned he made a reservation at the Signature Room at the top of the Hancock Center. Jon alternately feigned surprise and delight as Dan described the lakefront and city views and as I pointed out that we'd probably be there just before sunset. (That, of course, like everything else, was planned.)

The Signature Room was originally Dan's idea. When I was brainstorming places to propose in Chicago, this had been the one Dan recommended most highly. I made a reservation at 7:30pm, but told Dan to act like it was for 7pm; that way we would have some wiggle room. On the train, I did my best to pretend that I had no idea where we were going. Drew and Alison had to turn away to hide their smiles.

The Cubbies certainly didn't disappoint: they managed a comeback in the bottom of the 8th to win 5-3 over the Pirates. Jon was excited, but I assumed it was because of the baseball game. It was a great omen for the rest of the night.

Go, Cubs, go!

So happy to be back in Chicago!

Drew and Alison like Chicago, too!

After the game, we made our way back toward Hyde Park. The whole mono thing had worn me out, and I fell asleep a little on the Red Line. And again at Dan and Janelle’s apartment. But never mind that; it’s so not important in the grand scheme. Maggie ate cereal in the morning and peanuts at the baseball game. I worried about her strength, but was also unsure how to remedy the situation; I was concerned that she might not be able to stay awake for dinner!

We made a stop at the University of Chicago, where Dan delighted us all with a comedic tour of campus: pointing out the purposes of various buildings, telling us where to get the best coffee, and providing general commentary. My favorite moment was while we wandered around in the afternoon sun, I caught Jon looking at me. I squeezed his hand and smiled, reveling in how blessed I am to have him in my life. My anticipation was building.

And still, I didn’t know. I hoped this was true.

Back at Drew and Alison’s, we all got ready for dinner as fast as humanly possible. It’s quite likely I set a personal record. I felt rushed and flustered—I even did my makeup in the car—and it kept me from noticing Jon, a complete wreck in the front seat (poor guy)!

Of course, I was unaware that 6 of our Minnesota friends had driven down to surprise me at our engagement party. Jon, however was fully aware. We were running a bit late. I worried that people would get to the Hancock Center too early and that we would see everyone. I worried that we would see one of our friends walking on the street. I worried that Jake would pull up alongside us in the car. I considered ways to distract Maggie from a potential friend sighting and texted our friends to delay or stay hidden.

By the time we parked in the ramp, we were late for our reservation and I felt quite anxious. I sensed Jon was upset about it as well, as he grew very impatient that the ramp elevator stopped at every single floor. Still, I couldn’t understand why he had basically pushed me into the corner of the elevator.

I was panicked that one of our friends would be waiting on the other side of the elevator doors. I hoped at least I might see them first and have a chance of keeping Maggie from seeing them. Not only did we stop on the 8th floor, we were stuck there. The doors closed and we stayed...the doors opened and closed again...but we still stayed. On the 8th floor. Panic levels were quite high. Finally the elevator starting moving, right when I told people it would be all clear.

On the first floor of the Hancock Center, there was an elevator line spanning the length of the entire lobby. Jon stood there, BlackBerry in hand, muttering something about how we should be able to move to the front of the line. With a teasing smile, I reminded Jon that he can’t achieve priority status for everything; Jon was not amused.

We were sitting ducks! I had no idea where our friends were and had already told them it would be all clear! I texted people to let them know we were stuck in line, but I had no idea if everyone had their phones or if they were checking them as obsessively as I checked mine. At that moment, an elevator attendant informed us that those with dinner reservations could come directly to the front of the line.

When we arrived on the 95th floor, we conveniently discovered that the reservation was actually for 7:30 (miracle of miracles!). Jon took my hand and led me up to the lounge to take in the sunset city views.

I thought I had it made. The sun was setting, we had detached from our friends, and given an excuse. We got upstairs and got in line for table in the lounge/bar area. We noted, however, that they were carding. I obviously had my ID, but the ring box was on top of my wallet! I tried to fish my wallet out of my pocket (if you know me, my wallet is not the slimmest!), but it was not happening. We needed to get out of line and fast! I looked around for another place we could go, but before I thought of anything, we were at the front of the line! I blurted out “I have to go to the bathroom!”, left the line, and took Maggie with me. I was only in the bathroom about 15 seconds, just long enough to take a deep breath, take out the ring to make sure it was there, and then go back out. We had to find a different place to do this! Also, if you know me: my hands were VERY sweaty at this point!

If you’re still with us, congrats! The next part is when it gets good, so check back tomorrow!

i have a knack for embarrassing myself

Just because y'all are special

and just because it's my hundredth post

and just because I'm feeling generous and more than a little self-deprecating

but mostly just because I write whatever I want on this blog anyway....

Tonight, I'm going to tell you a story.*


Once upon a time (because that's how these things always start), there was a well-meaning girl with a heart of gold and honest intentions. Sure, sometimes she did brainless things like accidentally resending text messages to an ex-boyfriend, or losing her keys in a restaurant and not realizing it for approximately 7 hours, or oversleeping twice in two weeks, or even keeping an absurdly overemotional online journal throughout her early years of college.

But truly, this girl meant well. She tried to do the right thing in loving God and loving people. She tried to encourage them and point them back to a gracious God. It's just that sometimes she did stupid stuff.

Or, rather, does stupid stuff. Still.

Because this morning, this girl with the good intentions was supposed to get up at 5:15 to take her wonderful boyfriend to the airport so he could go spend the holiday week with his sister and his college friends. And she really wanted to be a help to him and getting up early on her day off was the least she could do. But even in that, she failed.

Due to a number of outside circumstances including, but not limited to: not going to bed early enough, setting the alarm for PM instead of AM, and--lest we forget--leaving her phone in her desk at work, our little Miss Congeniality failed to wake up until 7:15am, which was more or less the takeoff time for her boyfriend's flight.

Kai.

Thankfully, Mr. Wonderful made his flight, due to a great friend who has proved, once again, that he is great at coming through in the clutch. Not to mention that Mr. Wonderful has been nothing but gracious and forgiving about the whole mess. Which makes our well-meaning girl feel a bit less terrible.

But only a tiny little bit.

*This story may be my measly attempt at penance.

at a time like this

I feel obligated to talk about my grandfather. To remember and tell stories. To honor him in my own small way. To give details of the memorial service (which was beautiful) and of my long weekend with extended family (which was intensely rewarding) and of my grandfather's incredible life (which is to be celebrated).

I feel like that's what I ought to do, and yet, I know my grandfather. He would say, "Only write about it if that's what you want to write about." I'm not ready--just yet--to write about Grandpa. I'll get there. Just not today.

Today, what I want to write about is community.

About the people we surround ourselves with. About the blood-relatives and non-blood-relatives who share our joys and sorrows and do life alongside us.

Without them, the past several weeks would have been very, very different.

Losing a grandparent is new territory for me. I've never walked through this before. But so many others have. They know loss and sadness. They have grieved, and they know how to support me while I learn how to grieve, too.

My dear friends, relatives, coworkers--true brothers and sisters in Christ--have prayed for me, hugged me and held me, listened to me, and told me they love me. They have shown me patience and understanding, even when plans changed unexpectedly. They invited me into their homes and shared their sympathy-expressing cats (S&M, I'm looking at you). They gave flowers and sent cards, emails, and Facebook messages expressing their condolences.

They are the living embodiment of the Early Church and I am profoundly grateful.

This is what I mean when I talk about living missionally. Because yes, it means I desire to live in such a way that points people to Jesus--as my beloved Life Church says: loving others into a relationship with God. So there's that part of missional living. But it also includes living with other Christians. Reminding them of Christ's grace and mercy. Reflecting Christ's sacrificial love. Being Christ to each other.

I can't imagine experiencing loss without the support of the body of Christ. I believe I can speak on behalf of my family when I say we are thankful for you and for your expressions of love. It is my hope to continue to do life with you, bearing your burdens and sharing your hopes, as you have done for me.

it's not about pity

If you have ever lived through a Minnesota winter, if you have children, if you have been to Africa, if you know what culture shock is, if you have ever seen a homeless person, if you have ever felt cold, if you strive to live missionally, if you want to do something practical to help your fellow man:

I NEED YOU.

My friends Samuel & Shola, and their two daughters, Esther (8) and Grace (2) relocated from Nigeria to Minnesota in August. (Do you know where this is going yet?)

Weather.com says Minnesota is going to get cold this week, with wind and rain.

Samuel and Shola and their daughters are not prepared for a Minnesota winter.

And for once, I can help. I know how to help.

But I need your help. They need winter clothes. All of them. And boots and coats.

MN Moms and Dads: Esther and Grace need the clothes your kids have outgrown. I don't have sizes for them, as their parents are unfamiliar with US sizing. From holding her, I would say little Grace is a 2T, maybe 3T. Esther is tall for an 8-year-old, but quite thin.

If you want to get on board with this, please email me at maggie.e.thomas@gmail.com. I'm going to check with the family on sizes and compile a list of what we have and what we need.

It's not about pity, it's about love. And right now, my Nigerian friends need some MN lovin'.

a few of my favorite things

[This post has some incredible photography, none of which is mine. Thank you, Marjorie Howell.]

Once upon a time, it was October.

Which is probably my favorite month of my favorite season. For a lot of reasons. October brings changing leaves, harvest time, birthdays, crisp weather, and tiny whispers of winter.

It also brings apple picking, which is probably the most delightful activity there ever was.

If you plant me a Cortland apple tree, I'll love you forever. Fact.

So this weekend, I went to an orchard.And I picked. And I ate. Well, we ate.

And we took pictures and laughed.

Oh, did we laugh."We" being me and three amazing people that God has seen fit to bless me with.
How it makes sense, I don't know; but I am grateful.

It was the most enchanting day I've had since coming back from Nigeria. By far.

It is true that life also goes through seasons. Some are filled with trials and pinching and stretching. Other seasons, like this one, are filled with innumerable joys. The differences between today and 365 days ago are vast, but my trust is in the same God, who is still faithful, still in control, and still blessing me.

Here's to a new season, which coincides nicely with my favorite season.

All pictures courtesy Spencer and Marjorie Howell. Thanks, you two.

the truth about encouragement

God gave me a big heart. True story. I mostly feel made to love on people.

(Unless you're a jerk, in which case, God is probably using you to teach me about loving people.)

In the past few weeks, I feel like God has put me in a place to encourage others. I would say this is different from the spiritual gift of encouragement, but I have had some choice opportunities to talk with dear, beloved people--people who are buried deep in the heart of God--and to encourage them.

I've been radically blessed in my own life. I've seen God show up in big ways and small ways, and I can testify to new mercies and amazing grace. Having that perspective puts me in a place to be encouraging and motivational.

But there's a drawback here; one I can't get around. I've spoken with some very broken-hearted people, people who have not seen God show up in big ways and small ways, people who can barely remember evidence of new mercies and amazing grace.
Others are just plain struggling--nothing extraordinarily awful has happened, but they feel uninspired, frustrated, not fully alive. When I talk to these people, do you know what I feel like?

A proselytizer. A phony. A lucky girl whose life just happened to work out.

It breaks my heart. I can imagine being in their shoes, and I would say to me: "Well, that's all well and good for you, and I'm glad God has been faithful in your life, but from where I sit, it doesn't look like God even cares."

So I'm torn between two reactions, and both feel disingenuous:
1. Don't believe the lie. God does care. He is near. He is faithful.
2. It may be difficult now, but I believe time will grant you perspective and answer the why

Either response makes me out to be an effervescent optimist: empty-headed, ungrounded, or worse--ignorant. Not the good kind of optimist, the annoying kind.

And yet.

I still feel that in their sharing of pain, of trouble, of stress, of discontent, of life, and in my response of joy, of hope, of perseverance, of promise, there is still a tiny provision of encouragement there.

So I press on. I can really only be two things: a cheerleader for those needing a boost, and an empathetic heart for those experiencing pain I will never know.

If you need it, I will cheer you on. If you need it, I will sit with you and hold your hand.
But either way, I'm going to tell you that God is faithful. Even when you can't see it. And that might be frustrating for you to hear. But you need to hear it, from someone who means well, from someone who believes it is true, from someone who will remind you of it until you believe it, too.

Also, to those people: you are loved. You are loved by me, a girl who received a big heart from a God who loves you even more.

speaking of faithfulness

Most of you know this already, but my mom is a pretty big deal. Officially, she's known as Organized Audrey and runs a professional speaking and organizing business, specializing in corporate training. Yep, a pretty big deal.

Last night I had the privilege of speaking side-by-side with my mom.

We were asked to speak at a women-only service at our church. As we began crafting our informal presentation, the theme started leaking out everywhere: God's faithfulness & answered prayer.

As Mom and I think about the last 18 months of our lives, God's faithfulness to us and His faithfulness in answering prayer is the only way we can summarize that time.

So last night we shared. Together. In a tag-team kind of way. We laughed, shared pictures, made jokes. We told stories of faithfulness upon faithfulness, of answered prayer after answered prayer.

Some of the women present were people who had prayed, advised, cried, laughed, and lived alongside us both during the past school year. Some of the women there had never met us before. There were a lot of tears. (Not me. Mom, though.) One of my childhood friends came from an hour away and brought her mom and grandmother! The nurse from my high school was there, too! (Not only did I remember her by name, but I admitted to faking illness on numerous occasions. Once a drama queen...)

What an incredible time to celebrate all the ways God has come through for us, to thank our friends and support systems, to remind myself of how the past year wasn't about me--it was about God proving Himself faithful in every situation.

I've been dwelling on a particular piece of feedback Mom received. A woman said to her afterward, "I had no idea that was going on last year." Her comment really gave me pause. As women especially, how can we support one another--as a functioning body of Christ--if we don't know what's going on with one another? And how can we know if we don't ask or tell?

If you are going through trials of various kinds, take heart. There is power in the telling. There is support to receive. There is faithfulness to be seen later on. Mom & I know; we've lived it.

goalsetting

Today's pennyworth wisdom: Know what you want out of life.

If for no other reason but that someday an important person on the other side of a mahogany desk may just ask you, Where do you see yourself in 5 years? or What's your ideal career path--where do you want to end up?

I've been thinking a lot about this very concept, and even though this might not be my go-to answer in an interview, this is really what I want my life to look like in the next few years:

1. I want to get a full-time job. Something with benefits. Doesn't have to rock my world. Does need to be steady income.
2. I want to get my own place. I'm content renting. A studio is fine. And I think I want to live alone.
3. After those two things happen, I think I'll get a Netflix subscription or maybe a puppy. I've always wanted a yellow lab. Okay, maybe not in a studio apartment, but I can dream.
4. I want to find my passion. I hope it will be a cross between writing and bettering mankind, but I don't want to set the bar too high.

Wait a minute, you know what? It's my passion. My dreams. I don't think the bar can be too high there. I mean, it's not like I'm hoping to become a pop star. It's writing to change lives. Still within the realm of possibility. Maybe we'll classify it under "high hopes."

If there was a number 5, it would be optional. But if this was a theoretical universe where 5 did exist, number 5 would be a man. As it is, 5 is optional. Because #1-4 are definitely possible without the theoretical number 5.

Check that: I just discussed my job search, my life goals, and my relationship status in the same post. I'm getting good at this.

Celebrating Small Victories

In the face of my overwhelming future options, it's really nice to claim tiny moments of success.

Yesterday I completed my second triathlon. This one I did for me. I didn't have my security blanket running every step of the way with me (although Jake was there in spirit - I wore his t-ball t-shirt from kindergarten). I wasn't in a lake, I wasn't on Mom's bike, I wasn't running in the forest preserve back home, I didn't have my iPod workout mix. Nothing about this race was familiar or comfortable, but I completed it anyway.

The race was scored by distance, not by time. And my personal goal was to log 6 miles in the 3 events. I finished with 7.68.

So it wasn't a marathon, and it wasn't Olympic distance, and I didn't win anything, but I didn't come in last place and I beat my personal goal. I did it for me this time, and there's a lot of power in that.

And maybe, just maybe, it was a little bit for the person who told me I didn't have a high energy level. I might have done it to prove to myself that I'm not who he thought I'd become. I might have done it to prove us both wrong. Maybe just a little.

Thoughts on Marriage

I'm finally sitting down to Lauren F. Winner's book Real Sex: The Naked Truth about Chastity. She came to chapel at Wheaton 2 years ago, where I sat in the back row of the balcony and cringed; she was talking straight at me. So now I'm finally getting down to what she's getting at, and I'm surprised. I'm surprised by how sensible it is and how receptive I am to it. So here's the passage that keeps bothering me:

"The reasons we give for delaying marriage are entirely understandable. We want to make sure we know ourselves...We want to see the world, or finish college, or graduate from law school before making a time-consuming domestic commitment to another person....
But these impulses, while perhaps laudable, speak to a distorted understanding of marriage. The anxious parent who wants her college-aged daughter to postpone marriage rightly recognizes that people change a lot in their early twenties. But what that parent perhaps fails to recognize is that there is no point at which we can be sure. There is no age at which we truly know ourselves, and there is no length of courtship after which we really know our sweetie. To underscore that making a marriage is not about making an informed, rational calculation is not to suggest that in an ideal world, high school seniors would marry arbitrarily and hope for the best. It is not to join the chorus on Christian college campuses that sings about having a 'ring by spring.' Rather it is to remember that marriage not merely an exercise in finding the perfect mate; though the companionate marriage has reigned triumphant for these last two centuries, marriage is not only about companionship. It is about children, and household economy, and stability. And marriage is also about God. No matter how clearly we see ourselves and our fiances, marriage will prove difficult. We will both change. We will argue, and feel broken, and wonder why we ever married in the first place--and it is God who will sustain us in those spells." (emphasis mine)

So this passage keeps haunting me, and while I feel twinges of regret at not having read this earlier, I've more importantly come to my own conclusion that I was wrong. I've been assaulting myself with this idea that I have no business being in a relationship until I really know who I am, until I can be fair to the other person by being confident in myself as an individual. This, stated plainly, is crap. At least I think it is.

As Winner reminded me, who among us is ever really sure of ourselves? Which of us can stand at an age and say, "Now. This is who I am; it will not change."? I cannot do that, and I will not because I know I will continue to change as I gather life experience and wisdom. As caught up as I've been in this idea of companionate love and being truly compatible, people change anyways. If they're compatible now, they may not be in another 5 years, and vice-versa. Maybe if I'd read this 3 months ago, my life would look different now. Then again, maybe not.

Life Changes Fast.

Joan Didion reminded me that life, indeed, changes fast and in the instant. In this season of change, I cling to these verses.

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." - II Corinthians 12:9

"In Christ alone my hope is found. He is my light, my strength, my song. This cornerstone, this solid ground, firm through the fiercest drought and storm. What heights of love, what depths of peace, when fears are stilled, when strivings cease. My comforter, my all in all, here in the love of Christ I stand."

"But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord endures. His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness!"The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him." The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord." - Lamentations 3:21-26

"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for He who promised is faithful." - Hebrews 10:23

after all we're only human

My roommates and I are attending a breast cancer benefit in the city next week, and Jon McLaughlin is performing. I was looking up some of his older songs tonight, and I ran across this one, Human. It perfectly sums up this stage of my life, and I found myself strangely encouraged.

Can you tell me how we got in this situation,
I can’t seem to get you off my mind,
all these ups and downs,
they trip up our good intentions,
nobody said this was easy ride.

After all we’re only human,
always fighting what we’re feeling,
hurt instead of healing,
after all we’re only human,
is there any other reason why we stay instead of leavin’ after all

Can we get back to the point of this conversation,
when we saw things through each others eyes,
cause now all I see is ruin and devastation,
we all need some place we can hide inside.

I’m smart enough to know,
that life goes by,
and it leaves a trail of broken hearts behind,
if you feel I’m letting go,
just give me time,
I’ll come running to your side.