A Good Marriage

"There is no more lovely, friendly or charming relationship, communion, or company than a good marriage." -Martin Luther

How hard it is, isn't it, to truly trust another human being? Even if you are totally convinced that this person would never intentionally hurt you, there's still those times when you feel like running and hiding, don't you? It's funny, I think I was perceptive beforehand, but after my training as an anthropologist, I analyze and look deeper into everything. Not only to I behave, act, react, speak, and reason out of instinct, I then look back and ask why I did any or all of those things! I bought a bag of Cheetos this month while Mike was gone. It was a frivolous purchase, and I knew it, so I was determined to have the evidence gone by the time he got back. Why? He already knows I'm frivolous and act on whims- what would this bag of junk food say to him that he didn't already know? We're funny like that, aren't we? We can rationalize away just about anything, excuse our bad, rebelious or impetuous behavior, a just generally float through life not taking responsibility for our actions. Owning up to my own selfishness and bad attitudes- that I wasn't even aware of- has become a challenge in our early married life. If I don't recognize them, how will I repent, and if I don't repent of them, how will I change, and if I don't change, how will I become the woman of God I so desperately want to be? Are you trucking with me on this, or am I out in left field?

I want a good marriage. Desperately. And I want to be a good wife. Wholeheartedly. Lord, give me the strength to look my sin and flesh in the face, recognize it for what it is, and crucify it daily. Lord, I give you all of the strength and ability that is within me, every cell, sinew, molecule; I am Yours. Use me in my marriage as a partner, a helper, a companion, a trusted ally and friend. You have created me for this man, and for this marriage. Help me to live up to that. Help me to excell in that. Help me to be an example to others.

Just don't let me screw it up.

Amen.

My husband- the teacher

What a great day it has been. Mike's parents are putting in wood flooring in their house this weekend. Mike's Uncle John from Phoenix does flooring for a living, so he and his wife Jennifer and their three boys came up to help out and visit. We've had the boys for a few hours, and have had a blast. Mike wanted to take them shooting, and I thought what a better time to practice his skills as a teacher, and as a family member. We took them to the gun shop to buy ear plugs, and then out to the outdoor range. Mike was wonderful. He is so patient, and goes over the safety of handling firearms so well. He had the boys repeat after him the safety rules; and the oldest being 13, the more repetition the better. He had them shoot their grandfather's .38 special. Grandpa Richard died in February, and the family is still intensely feeling the loss. Shooting his pistol was an honor I think each of them felt. They did him proud, and each shot exceptionally. They listened, followed instructions, and asked questions. Mike paid them each special attention, praised highly, explained things fully, and genuinely was proud of them. I did my womanly duty and cleaned up shells after them. ;) I made sure each one felt that they had done very well, because they had. We had a quick lunch at Ta*o B*ll, and then went to the indoor range to shoot the .22 Long Rifle. Again, they each did well. They are currently glowing. The conversation from the other room is still revolving around, well, revolvers.

Can I just say, I cannot wait until we have kids? I mean, I don't think we'll be intentionally trying anytime soon, but it is going to be fun. Mike is going to make a great dad. He keeps teasing me about us having all boys. Oh Lord, please don't be that cruel to me! :) I would really like to have boys, but I want a few girls too. Girls are just way too fun. But the patience and teaching that Mike displays is so wonderful. I pray for a brood with different likes and interests, giftings and abilities. Concert pianist, ballerinas, football players, black belts, soccer players, artists, singers, potters, motorcyclists, teachers- it doesn't matter to us. We will encourage each one of them separately, equally, and individually. But Lord, please give us boys who will share their dad's enjoyment of the outdoors and things that go boom. That's all I'm asking. And for girls. PLEASE.

Talk to you soon!

Adventures in Harleyland!

Thought you might want to see the maiden voyage of the S.S. ScaringOurParentsToDeath! (Or SOPTD for short!) Yes, Mike is back, has his licence and his insurance, and is off onto the open road!

More to come! Love ya!

It's Father's Day!

Want to meet my biggest fan? (Other than Mike?)

Yep, that's my dad! My dad is AWESOME. He adopts any kid that may come into his house- they are all his girls! I'm daughter #1, Rachel is #2, Danielle is #3, and after that, he assigns numbers as they come. We're probably up to about 63. Anyone and everyone are welcome in our house, and every one is loved the same. He never complained about the enormous grocery bill that accompanied feeding this mass horde of teenagers, and merely tiptoed around the thirty sleeping bags that occasionally populated our family or living room- or both.

There are many great fathers in the world, but it takes a special man to have all daughters. He was preconditioned for it, though, with two sisters growing up. I don't know many understanding men who would allow twenty years of dinner table discussions revolving around Barbies, ponies, purses, shoes, bras, and periods. Not occasionally. Litterally twenty years of it. He takes it all in stride; just finishes his dinner, pushes back from the table, and vacates the room. He is a master of listening, having a wife and three VERY feeling daughters (especially this one!). His patience is legendary. By myself, I could have given him grey hair. And he had two more!

Not that we were very trying children. I've told them how lucky they were. They laughed outright at me, but really, we could have given them a lot harder time than we did. No sneaking out, drinking, partying, or trying drugs. We had no reason to go do that stuff- all our friends wanted to hang out at OUR house!

Among his other winning characteristics as a dad, he was Mr. Fix-it. And I mean everything. The sink, the car, the Barbie's head, a tea set, jewlery, the fence, the window, and various broken hearts. He could fix it all. That was one of my favorite things about him. He has these two great big tool cabinets, and as a child, it seemed that the supply of magical fix-it (duct tape and super glue) was unending.

He poured into us in other ways as well. Some of our favorite times were our yearly science projects. Countless (last minute) hours were spent in the garage, side by side, using up all of his stock of supplies, creating an A+ project. Levers, pullies, race tracks- nothing was too complex, and he really seemed to own everything and anything that could be used for such projects. He would help with homework, Scripture memory verses, and was always, always encouraging.

Our personalities are similar, as I have hinted to before. Mike reads the manual, and my dad and I just want to do it. Damn the consequences! :) We lean towards being people pleasers, and can get along with just about any one. We are hard workers, and love music and worship. Both of my parents encouraged me to dance, but my dad really understood the application of it within worship. I love hearing his opinion on the latest worship song craze- whether it is good or bad, it is always entertaining. He's goofy and funny, and loves to laugh. He describes himself as "Tigger", just bouncing along, not a care in the world. He's quick and witty, and it's been fun growing up and being able to leave this rapier wit speachless. :)

My dad was also not afraid to be the discaplinarian. I love him even more for that now. Had he been bent on being my "buddy", I would not have an example to judge Godly men by. I'm so glad he didn't shirk that responsiblity.

When it became apparent to me that Mike and I were on the road to marriage, I began to appreciate my dad more, as I watched the natural progression of him relinqueshing the role of the man in my life. He did it with grace and ease- or at least it seemed that way to me. He loves Mike, and Mike loves him. They are becoming better friends all the time, and I am so glad. He was more than generous with our wedding, and lavished his love on us. What was even more amazing than that, and I mentioned this before, was his blessing over us during the ceremony. I need to get a copy of that. It was AMAZING. Heartfelt, passionate, loving, encouraging, and accepting, he welcomed Mike into our family with flourish. Nothing could have been more wonderful.

Anyway, that's my dad. We love him so much, and just wanted to let you know why! Happy Father's Day, Dad!

Elizabethtown

Ok, yes, I did go through my Hollywood crush phase a little later than most girls, and yes, Orlando Bloom was my main heartthrob. Those days are behind now. (He hasn't done anything in a while.:)

The movie Elizabethtown is one of my favorites. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it, although, I highly recommend it only if you see it with me. Karin hated it the first time, but then she watched it with me and liked it. The movie just speaks to me about how life can get away from you if you let it, and how we shouldn't let what is really important get lost in the midst of life. I love Kirstin Dundst in the film. She is quirky, bubbly, funny, fun, sweet, honest, and giving. The things she says and thinks reminds me of me. "I'm a student of names." she tells Drew Baylor (Orlando Bloom). She seems obnoxious at first, but she grows on him. (As I hope some of you are able to say of me!)

One of my favorite movies scenes of all time is at the very beginning of their relationship. She is a stewardess on his flight to pick up his dad's body for burial. He carries with him the "lucky blue suit" that was his father's favorite. She has just talked his ear off for quite a while in the middle of the night, and stands up to leave. "I'll take this." She says, picking up the blue suit. He lunges forward to take it back from her. She doesn't relinquish it, however, and tells him: "I can handle this." He hesitates. "Let GO." He does so, and leans back in his chair, exhausted.

Orlando spends the rest of the movie experiencing the life he has missed out on for the last eight years of his father's life, because he was too busy. He let life control him, and he had lost himself in it. It is a wonderful road back to where he needs to be, and wonderful to see him get there.

The journey, however, would not have begun without that first scene. When faced with separation from what we cling to, don't we hold on for dear life? Aren't we so afraid to relinquish that which holds us back? Why? What is it really we are giving up? Control. I love her line, and I hear that one echo in my head on more than one occasion. "I'll take this. I can handle it. Let GO." How many times does our Heavenly Father say those exact words to us?

When faced with that choice, our humanity scrambles to hold onto all that we hold dear, even when it really means nothing. Without that transfer of control, our Father is not able to begin his work within us. And we may not even see the work going on! Her presence is healing to him, but he misses it completely. Half way through the movie, he confesses to her that he is a big fat failure (the opening scene is him being fired for loosing a major company close to one billion dollars). There have been all of these things going on, but he doesn't even see them. Claire (Dundst) replies: "So, you failed." He makes it clear that she doesn't get it. "Ok, you REALLY failed. You failed, you failed, you failed. You failed. You failed, you failed, you failed, you failed. You FAILED, you failed-". He cuts her off with a look. "You think I care about that?" Isn't that what Jesus tells us when we are broken? He looks at us, at the mess we've made, at the destruction we have caused in our own lives, and all of the shattered pieces of our broken hearts. And asks us one question: "You think I care about that?"

What freedom and redemption there is in that one sentence! Thank you so much, dear Lord, that when we are at our worst, your work has already begun. You never leave us, nor forsake us in the mess we make of things. You pick us up, clean us off, wipe away our tears, and begin HEALING and RESTORING us. Your mercy and grace are too wonderful for words, and I praise Your Holy and Awesome Name.

The next time you find yourself in the belly of a whale, in captivity in Egypt, in hiding on Mount Carmel, or in Elizabethtown, listen intently. I promise you will hear these words. "I'll take this. I can handle it. Let GO." And when you try to tell God He can't make use of any of your life because you have screwed it up so badly, I guarantee His words will be, "You think I care about that?"

If you needed to hear that today, I'm glad I was here to say it. As Claire would say, "We may never see each other again, but I just want to say: We are intrepid. We carry on." Love you!

Letters of Intent

Dear Attitude,

Can I just say that you are my worst quality? I mean, in pictures, you're great. Don't get me wrong, the "kissy face", the "hip pop", and the "eyebrow", are greatly appreciated. By the way, I'm running low on scrapbooking supplies; chip in, or ship out.
So it's not that you don't have your uses. Like when mom used to ask us to do something. Or when we are on stage. There, on stage, you may let yourself run wild and free. It's the stage! You can be, do, say, think, and feel anything you want, Attitude. But not here.
You see, you tend to rear your ugly head at just the most inappropriate times. That person did not wake up with the intention of cutting you off in traffic. That person didn't mean to say that the way it came out. Or maybe they did, but that's on them, not you. The mosquitoes have a job to do. A nasty, annoying, aggrivating job, but their just doing their job to the fullest extent of their ability. And the sun did not unleash a personal vendeta on us today... we just apparently don't know when to apply sunscreen. And Mike certianly wasn't prepared for the appearance you made this evening. It was undeserved, and we had to appologize for it.
So, to be clear: In the future, we need to stop, take a deep breath, bury the diva, and use our nice voice. And if you could let your good friend, Emotions, know that we're also running low on mascara, and would appreciate cooperation in that area, that'd be great.

Sincerly,

Woman in need of sleep, aloe, Benadryl, a good friend, and her husband.

Two Months Today...

Can you tell I'm lonely- and bored? I've posted every day this week. Eh, it's good for me. Mike is in Texas this week at a conference, and I am MISSING him. I made up an excuse to go into his favorite gun shop yesterday, just to have some normality, and a little peice of him. It has been two months today since we got married. Wow. When I pointed this out to him tonight, he replied, "Yep, and before you know it, it will have been twenty years." I love my Mr. Realist.

These two months have been JAM PACKED. I feel like God is speaking constantly right now, showing us things about ourselves that need to change, pointing us in new directions, bringing up new things to think about. My mom laughed when I told her it's been nuts. "Didn't you tell me you felt like God said you were going to hit the ground running after the wedding?" Yes, yes I did. So this is what He meant.

"Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking in the same direction." -Antoine-deSaint-Exupery

We are definately taking turns right now in gazing at each other, and then looking together into the future. But we're newlyweds, so that's expected. :) We are so excited about what God has in store for us. Mike is in the throes of online classes, persuing security management. I can't wait to see what our Father does with that. Mike is an excellent teacher, very paitent and methodical. He also loves protecting people, so going into teaching safety and security tactics would be an ideal spot for him. You'll see us on the news one day, protecting some higher up official. Beyond that, he took his copy of John Elderidge's Fathered By God with him on this trip. I am hoping that his love for God, love for the outdoors, and love for teenagers will combine someday. We are hoping to start an outreach and discipleship program where Godly men take young men into the wilderness- where their hearts truly come alive- and teach them about God, and what it means to be a man. There is no better manly man to learn from than my hubby! What two halves of a whole we are!

God has brought me into some very interesting positions this year, relationally. One after another, after another, women from broken relationships have shown up on my doorstep. A very good friend, a relative, a friend through a friend, a long time friend, and now a coworker- all women who are going through the sheer destruction of a relationship. God is teaching me and training me how to speak to these women; how to shed tears with them, but not become engulfed in their sorrow. Every time, it gets a little bit easier, and I am finding that I am helping each one a little bit more. It has been amazing, though, the rapidity of these occurences, and the similarities between them. And what's more is that the best thing I can offer them- is Mike. His experience and past with his failed (let's face it, hellish) marriage speaks more to them than anything I have to say. His mistakes, his faults, his concerns, his triumphs, his woes, his regrets, and now his joy is theirs if they want it. He is so open and honest and transparent with each one of them, it's increadable. He has been wonderful, and an unmistakable testimony to what life can look like if, when you are at rock bottom, you allow the True Healer to do His work. The best way I can describe Mike's relationship with God then, and continuing until now, is "Here God, I'm on the operating table. I'm handing you the scalple, do what You will." And now, being on the other side of it, he can speak to these broken women in a way that continually touches me. Other than that, as my friend Jill says, "Marriage will show you just how selfish you are." Amen, sister. But we're working on it.

We are looking in the same direction- to where God is calling us. We have a ways to go yet, I think, before He calls us to the next step, but we are progressing every day. I can't wait to see what the next twenty years are like.

My sister Rachel

I haven't told you much about our families- other than mine is crazy (I have told you that, right?) How about an installment of who's who in our family line up?

My sister Rachel is- well, let's face it, amazing.



She's a doll. Rachel is probably the most merciful person you could meet. Don't get me wrong- she's also the first person to kick you in the butt about something, but she does it in love. Rachel was always the "Let's take home the starving puppy" child, although most of her lost "puppies" were hurting kids from school or church. Growing up, she was my constant companion. We did everything together. She was my shadow when we were kids- which means I was the bosy older sister, and made her do whatever it was I wanted to do. (Hey, what are older sisters for?) Countless hours were spent playing school, Barbies, dress up, tea party, house, and a vast variety of other games of pretend.

Although, as we got older that time was mostly made up of dancing together, which took up a great deal of our time. Rachel and I danced together for almost thirteen years. Not always in the same classes- hardly at all until the last five or so, but every week, there we were, being driven together to pursue our passion. When I began driving is when our time together really became constant, as I was now the one with the keys. We have a song- don't laugh- "Without Me" by Eminem. Yep, because that was really popular right when I began driving, and so we heard it together ALL THE TIME.

When the youth group at our church began a dance team, Rachel and I were leads because of all of our experience. As the random dances became full on productions, Rachel and I were placed in lead positions, as well as choreographing assistants. We made up the most AWESOME dance- no, seriously, it was wicked cool- to "Crawling in the Dark" by Hoobastank. Our second and third great contributions to the productions were "Wake Me Up" by Evanescence, and "Cry Me a River" by Justin Timberlake. Not exactly docile songs. "Crawling in the Dark" was our masterpiece and great collaberation- ask us about our "choreographing" sessions sometime. I think that basement is still echoing our laughter. But to watch us do it- numerous people said we gave them goosebumps, because, from our history of dance and our connection as sisters, we were PERFECTLY in sync. Every movement, every jump, every look was identically mirrored in the other. It was awesome. I miss those times with her, and wish we could share a giggle behind a couch on stage, or a lightning fast costume change, or lying on the floor in agony from every muscle screaming at us- just one more time.

As becoming adults goes, we are pretty normal. I did the move out, move in, move out, move in thing for several years. Rachel graduated high school and started college, but wasn't quite convinced that that was where she needed to be. And so began the great adveture of her life- seeking her Master. Rachel ended up working at Hume Lake Christian Camps in Hume, California, just outside of Fresno. After her first year, she joined their discipleship intensive- and I mean INTENSIVE. They basically are in Bible school for nine months straight, while they serve on staff, and at the end of every month, they do a missions outreach. She has been to a deaf orphanage in Mexico, and the streets of L.A. and Las Vegas, among others. At the end of the nine months, they spend almost three weeks in Israel, visiting places mentioned throughout the Bible, and not just the main touristy ones. It was life changing for her. She came back a different person- no, that's not right. She was still Rachel, but God had done some amazing healing and work within her.

I tend to be on the loud and crazy side, and while we were growing up, Rachel had been right there with me. That has changed a little as of late- not completely, because if you don't speak up at the dinner table, you are NOT heard- but a little. She has become more contemplative and reserved, like a small oaisis in the midst of the desert. Her waters run deeper, and have calmed down, despite what goes on around her. She still loves with all that she has, but has the self respect now to refuse being a doormat. She cares very deeply for those around her, and I pray that God will continue to surround her with people who both need her, and appreciate who she is. Rachel has always found joy in the simple things (which is kind of a family trait), and is just as content coloring with a five year old as with having a cup of coffee with a trusted friend. She still loves a crowd, but has found the peace that comes from solitude. It's just her and Jesus right now, and that's the way she likes it.

As of this moment, Rachel is living with a cousin in Idaho, nannying for their only daughter. She is saving up to return to school; first a community college, followed by Bible college. She has missions work under her skin, and after her trek to Thialand last fall, is even more in love with the Asian people. She is the hither-and-yond child of the family, and Mike and I hope to support her whenever God allows us to. I love her very dearly, and can't wait to see what the Creator, Sustainer, and our Passionate Father has in store for her next!

Sometimes I wonder...

This may become a regular instalment for the blog, because I wonder some weird stuff. Mike will just look at me sometimes, like, "Really?!" :) That's ok. It makes him laugh. But sometimes, you just have to wonder...

Does where you were conceived play a part in your personality?

Ok, go with me on this one. They say that there are all sorts of factors in life that dictate who you are and what you are like. Birth order, how many siblings, early trumatic experiences, a loving family, a broken family, living in the city, living in the country, small school, big school, what kinds of foods were available, financial status, educational quality and quantity- and that is just the NATURE part of that. What about the nurture? Blue eyes, brown eyes, blonde hair, black hair, curly hair, straight hair, long fingers, long toes, being short and squatty, being the girl from Ipanema, being susceptable to liver cancer, lung cancer, breast cancer, ect. ect. ect!

And I believe that names also play a huge part in who you are. If your feminine name means "great gray battleship", how likely are you to feel that you embody femine beauty? If your masculine name means "coward", how would you ever see yourself as the divine right-warrior you are?

So if all those things make a difference, couldn't where you were concieved play a part? If your child is concieved while camping, will they love the wilderness? If you get "friendly" at your mother-in-law's house, will that child be very quiet? If you make whoopie in a more public place, will that child be a tad on the naughty side, but full of passion? I'm sure you're laughing by now, but think about it- should prospective (or accidental) parents play it safe and never leave their bedroom, so they have nice, normal, slightly boring, but no trouble at all children? Hey, I've never had to think about this stuff before, but now that we're married- I mean, it's got to cross your mind!

I married Mike: the oldest of three, the only boy, strawberry blonde hair, blue green eyes, with glasses, grew up in a very LARGE city, went to a very LARGE school, had a VERY close, very large extended family, the only Christian, with an athletic build, dog lover, finished high school, has had some college, been in the Marines, named after his father, traveled the world, been a firefighter, been in war, extremely masculine man who likes to dissapear into the wilderness for days with a Bible and a gun.

So all in all, this oldest child of three girls, ash-blonde, straight haired, blue eyed, very loved daughter, brought up in a stable Christian home with both parents, in a small town, in a small school, in a middle-class neighborhood, with a dog, danced for years, graduated high school, almost through college, brought up on fruit, chicken, garlic, and pasta, been out of the country once (but it was half way across the world), with relatively close relatives, closer to short and squatty than an underwear model, has to watch out for breast cancer and high blood pressure/cholesterol, dance lover, named "Princess", and after her great grandmother, who apparently was a really amazing lady, extreme girly-girl who thinks roughing it is a Motel 6 (DEEP BREATH), has to ask herself:

What are our children going to be like? :)

It's going to be wild.

Letters of Intent

I love reading Tiff's, so I must do one of my own!

Dear Lands Conference,

Really? Did you really have to fall on THIS year of your five year rotation, and take my baby away? I'm sure you were aware that we just got married, and that I would not be ready for Mike to leave FOR A WHOLE WEEK! The spite and malice within your schedualling is really unbecoming, and unappreciated. I'm sure you think your talks about water, and land, and acquisition, and dams, and all that reclamation mumbo jumbo is vital and necessary to the continuation of life on planet earth- BUT IT'S NOT! How do you expect me to sleep without my foot touching his, or listening to his gentle snoring that at first was cute and now is a little bit annoying but I'm getting use to it? So you get to see him for a week, and I don't?! How fare is that?!?! NOW RETURN MY HUSBAND, OR ELSE!

That is all.

Sincerly,

Lonely Lover

A dirty little word- and a great encouragement.

I got called a "housewife" today. It was interesting. The girls were all going out to lunch, and I really didn't have the motivation or means to go, so I told them I needed to do some things around the house, which was true. "She's going to be a housewife" was the response. And while I don't think it was said derogatorily, it stung a bit none the less. The first thing that came to mind? One of my biblical heroes.

"Who can find a virtuous and capable wife? She is worth more than precious rubies", Proverbs tells us, but is that the way women in the home are really looked at today? The media shows these women as tired, broken down, less than feminine women, who have to deal with selfish, childish husbands, and rebellious, mouthy children. Most of these women look like whiny, needy, emotional messes, who, when asking for some consideration, or, God forbid, romance from their husbands, get treated with contempt, making the husband into a martyr for caring for his wife! The stable wife is never portrayed as the attractive woman of the show; that is always the single girl, who is on a different guys arm every week, having the so-called time of her life. Let me tell you, that is not the position to be envied. Is this the thanks we give to the women who nurture our young? The ones who make a house into a home?

"Her husband can trust her, and she will greatly enrich his life. She will not hinder him but help him all of her life", Proverbs goes on. Isn't that what a wife should be viewed as? His helpmate, his partner, his friend? That's what I want said of me. I have always wanted to be a wife. When you asked me as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would say, "A mommy." Wife and mother go hand in hand. I have waited for years for God to mold me into the woman I am today, so that I may be a great asset to my husband. Am I a housewife? Darn right, and proud of it!

Proverbs goes on to describe a woman of many talents, calling her energetic, strong, thrifty, merciful, compassionate, and competent in business. An early riser and a night owl. Some people see this as Solomon's sexism coming out, describing a woman that doesn't exist. Some think this is an amalgamation of traits that he thinks women should posses. At any rate, she would be a fearsome thing to behold, and one to whom we should never compare ourselves. But I think the Proverbs 31 woman is a person I would like to strive to be. And you know what? I won't get it all down all the time. It doesn't say anywhere in the chapter that she must be all of these things at once, so I will content myself with using her as a guide. Do I know squat about business? Nope, but we may one day own our own, and then I'm going to have to learn. Am I thrifty? My mom always said I had a champagne taste on a water fountain budget. I like those Coach purses! Am I always "extend[ing] a helping hand to the poor and open arms to the needy"? I do what I can, when I can. Mike and I tend to give until we bleed. No, I will not always get it all right, but I can look up to this woman, whom the wisest man who ever lived, praised above all other women.

"Her husband is well known, for he sits in the council meeting with the other civic leaders." (A position of great respect.) I heard a broadcast recently of a sermon done on this chapter. My favorite part was this part. His opinion was that he was well known at the city gate, because of how his wife was capable and respected. He (in a "Jewish" voice, which was hilarious) had a conversation with himself between the woman's husband and another leader of the city. "What do you have in your lunch today?" "Gufilte fish! Always gufilte fish! I'm sick of gufilte fish! What do you have?" "Roast lamb sandwich on homemade bread, wine- my wife makes her own wine, you know- (he listed several things here), baklava- oh! And a pudding cup!" "Baklava AND a pudding cup?! I wish my wife took care of me like that! Do you think your wife could come over to my house and talk to my wife?" At this point, they see a beautiful woman on a chariot approaching. "Who is that?" "That's my wife!" His wife comes up and says "I just made a pan of brownies, and thought you guys might want some!" And the second man is blown away. It was a funny way to look at this verse, but that is how I want to be seen. I want to be known as Mike's right hand, his greatest encouragement and asset. I want to take care of him in a way that shows other married couples what it really means to love your neighbor as yourself, because what neighbor is closer to you than your spouse? Again, will I always get it right? No, but I sure am going to try!

"She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs with no fear of the future. When she speaks, her words are wise, and kindness is the rule when she gives instructions. She carefully watches all that goes on in her household and does not have to bear the consequences of laziness. Her children stand and bless her. Her husband praises her: "There are many virtuous and capable women in the world, but you surpass them all!" What a testimony! What a life! There are no mouthy and disrespectful children in this scene, no incompetant and lazy husband. They recognize the blessing from God that she is, and publicly acknowledge that. Why shouldn't I add this woman to my heroes list? She fears the Lord, and is greatly praised. She is a housewife, and I am proud to join her ranks!

Naysayers and critics- if you don't like what I'm saying, get out of my way! I don't have time for your insults and discouragement- I'm a housewife, and I have a lot to do!

Yes, we're ACTUALLY married.

I thought some of you might like to see this video. As I said before, we forgot to sign the marriage license before we left the reception. As my dad says, in the state of Colorado, you could be married by a duck and it would be legal, so we were actually ok, but it was really funny to come back and capture this moment. Enjoy!

Just call me the Biker Chick!

So Mike picks me up from work today, and I asked him how his afternoon was.

His morning was spent lazily doing his first homework assignments, which are very basic "What are you goals in college?" "What are your goals after college?" questions, and he was HATING it. So during lunch we stopped into the Harley Davidson store to drool, just one more time. Mike has made up his mind about which one he wants, now he was just trying to figure out when. As he dropped me off at work again, I told him that if he went back and bought the bike, he better change his answer to the question: "What are you doing today to pursue those goals?", from "I'm taking a nap, because they're underrated", to "I'm buying a Harley."

So he picks me up, and I asked him how his afternoon was. He told me he wasn't really motivated to finish his schoolwork, so he was just on the computer most of the afternoon. I thought there were some holes in the timeline of his afternoon, but didn't press for details. I asked him what he wanted to do this evening, and he said "Maybe we could go for a bike ride."

I was on the phone with my sister, when he went out the front door. "Where are you going?", I called from the couch. "Just out here." Which is weird, because he doesn't just do that. A few minutes later, being the nosy wife I am, opened the front door and looked out. The Harley Davidson truck was out front. I closed the door, squealed to my sister, and then acted like nothing happened. I heard that unmistakable engine start up a few minutes later, and after a while, he came back in. He came up behind me, kissed me on the cheek, dangled the keys in front of me, and said, "Wanna come see what I found?"

So, we are the proud new owners of a beautiful blue, something something something, Harley Davidson. Hey, I don't care what the thing is- but I sure am going to look hot on the back of it!

Putting My Foot Down- a People Pleaser's Breakthrough

I am my father's daughter. I have the hardest time saying no. I also have busy-beeness on both sides of my family. The one adjective I would really not ever consider using on myself is "slacker". This makes me a very excellent worker. And a very abused one as well.

My Aunt Pammy bought us a book for our wedding called "Sex Begins In the Kitchen"- and yes, you all wish you had my family. I started reading is at a very opportune moment this week. It is a surprisingly insightful book into who your marriage partner actually is, and how their birth order, personality, and childhood experiences make up their paradigm of life and who they are today. The second chapter talks about birth order as a means of defining who you are. As a first born, I am driven to succeed, and have a few perfectionist tendencies. The third chapter is about seven general personalities that stem from birth order. Firstborns tend to be people-pleasers because they want people to like them. Add to that my father's temperament- make every body happy, don't make waves, life should be happy-go-lucky (the ultimate Tigger personality), and both of my parents finding their identity in a job well done- and you have me. The best worker slash frequent doormat you could ever want.
You know what's great about God? How well He knows us. Mike is truly the best husband he could have given me in this area. If Mike was a people pleaser as well, he would have just stood by this week and let this situation play itself out. But he's not. Mike isn't afraid of confrontation, he is well read and prepared for every situation that arises (it seems like), and he is more than able to say "No". Which is good for me.
I work in retail, which means my schedule changes every week. I have been in my current position of leadership almost as long as I have worked for this company, and did not have any boundaries in my scheduling up until I stepped down last January. I can take a few for the team, and I am more than willing to come in when someone is sick or hasn't shown up, or any number of things. I have been the on-call girl, in a job that doesn't pay to be on-call. I stepped down because I had gotten mono in December, and really needed that time to heal, as well as plan our wedding. I stepped back up in March, more as a favor to the manager, who was in a tight spot, than anything else. They gave me the time off for the wedding, as well as for the two graduations that followed last month. But our manager is gone now, and we have an interim, who has been wonderful, don't get me wrong. Up until now. She went against my availability (Sunday's off), and scheduled me for Sunday, all day. Mike is willing to let me make the decision to take it or fight it, but his vote is for fighting it. The wonderful man not only told me to say "No" flat out, but then brought home a printout on Title VII of the Civil Rights Act; Religious Freedom. An employer must make allowances for religious freedom. I'm not really sure why I was hired and promoted with a very open understanding that my Sundays could be accommodated, if that is not the case. So I did it. I said "No". I was shaking, my stomach hurt, and I was having a hard time breathing, but I did it. The new manager, who starts this week, said she wants to talk to me about my availability on my next shift. I am needing to step down anyway, as school starts next month, but I stood up for myself. And I feel awful. But my needs are important too. I need a day to spend the morning worshiping with the Body, and I also need to spend a lazy afternoon with my husband, going for a walk by the river, having family dinner, going to the range to shoot, reading, going to a movie- doing whatever it is that is fun and strengthens our relationship with each other. Because that is way more important than the bottom line of a company ever could be.
Am I still a hard worker? Definitely. Just one who is learning to stand up for herself.