Stay.

"If you are staying married just because you told Jesus you would - for no other reason at all - you are winning." - Me to a friend several days ago

We want it all to make sense. We want the equation to work. Respect him and he'll love you. Love her and she'll respect you. While the idea isn't ridiculous and is biblically based, I want to offer some encouragement to all of you who are in a marriage that just doesn't quite pan out that way, but you're still showing up, loving and respecting the best you can today - or maybe you're just showing up with a fair amount of unsureness and inability.

Sometimes you are both doing the best you can do and it still isn't working. This is where more than 50% of the population calls it - time of death: it-doesn't-feel-good-anymore-o'clock. This is where we decide whether we meant our vows or we didn't.

The Blackwell's are there with you. We love each other - truly we do - but it's been quite a long stretch now of not feeling particularly excited about each other and certainly of not being on the same page. I'm not going to go into all the details because, quite frankly, this is not the forum for that, but suffice it to say - we are muddling and fighting our way through, too. We are frustrated, wounded, and exhausted due to the past several years of our lives together, and we can't quite figure out how to get back into a good rhythm with each other. Y'all, we have both wanted to give up - quit trying - stay but not work so hard at thriving. Oh, how we've wanted to quit, but every time, the Holy Spirit reminds us that this is not what our Jesus came for - He didn't come for half lives or half marriages. So, we pick ourselves up off the ground to look one another in the eye again, ready for another go at it. We are bone tired weary, but we are not NOT showing up. I promised to actively love this man until I die - and while there are days, weeks and months that I very much want to flip him the bird, roll my eyes, or head for the hills, I will not - because I promised my God that I wouldn't. I promised Him I would stay - and because I rest so confidently in His great love for me, His abundant power and resources, and His promises of blessing for obedience - I stay. We stay.

So, how do you stay when you reach the place of feeling like it's all a big pile of poop?

1. Pray that junk down. I have written about this concept before because it revolutionized my life. It freed me up from having to manipulate, push, and control circumstances or, specifically, Josh. When I know what my heart is telling me but my man isn't there yet, the answer is to submit and pray that junk down. This is also important and applicable in the realm of protection and power. His role in our home is a thing that we cannot begin to understand the weight and responsibility of. We should praying for our husbands even more fervently and often than we pray for ourselves and our children. When you don't know what or how to pray for your man (or anything else in your life), For the Family by Sylvia Gunter is my very fave. Don't be thrown off by the dated cover, she is an epic prayer fighter. I've learned so much by praying through her book.
2. Tell the truth. I am just now learning to do this well. I mean, not the part where I tell the truth - that's been relatively easy for me, but the part that I do it after careful calculation and without letting my emotions dictate my delivery. We ought to be intentional to create space for one another to tell the truth - about our own struggles and about potential pitfalls in our spouse's life. It's sticky and awkward and potentially dangerous because, in this case, delivery matters enormously. If you verbally berate your spouse and then tag on an, "I'm saying all of this because I love you," it doesn't have QUITE the effect you might hope. Speak with kindness, pour on grace, practice patience - and be willing to sit in the yuck with your spouse.
3. Be nice. I am so serious about this. This is a thing that, other than a few times a year, we do a pretty good job at. We don't call each other names - ever - well except in our heads. We are only human. We don't belittle or demean. We try to help one another and give each other space. We aren't always perfect, but the rule, in our house, is be nice. That applies to all of us, and it helps prevent long lasting, deep wounds.
4. Spend time together. Fight with every breath you have to make time to be together. Not on your phones. Not doing separate activities in the same room. Together. I'm not saying all day every day - but once a week-ish, in my experience, a few hours of just the two of you will make a big difference. I know the whole - but what about our kids, our job, our extended family - is hard. Your kids will feel more secure when they know their mama and daddy love and enjoy each other. Your job will still be there in a few hours. Your extended family will like you better if you like each other. Something's gotta give, friends - and it should never, ever be our marriages.
5. Be aware of your own humanity. When our needs are not being met in our marriages over extended periods of time, whatever that may look like, we become more vulnerable to allowing them to be met in other relationships. This is what, more often than not, leads to affairs. I am HYPER sensitive to this in my own life because I KNOW I am not immune. It's better to be considered cold by your co-workers or other friends of the opposite sex than to find yourself smack in the middle of a relationship with someone that you didn't even see coming. I'm not saying you have to BE cold to keep things healthy, but I AM saying that the world just might see it that way. See the whole Mike Pence thing for reference. 
6. Have the sex. I don't have a lot to say about this, but I remember reading something by Jen Hatmaker - possibly in For the Love - that sometimes you just need to have the sex. When you don't know what else to do and there aren't any serious, need to talk this out with a third-party emotional wounds - you just need to come together again. God values sex in marriage. Maybe we should, too.

When Josh and I moved to Colorado in the fall of 2014, we prepared ourselves for a full force attack on our marriage. We knew this is where we would likely be hit the hardest, and we weren't wrong. Josh was crazy busy and extraordinarily alive in what he was doing, which meant he didn't have a lot to give me or need a lot from me. I was still neck deep in baby while also trying to get our oldest settled in school and figure out what my role was or needed to be in our church. In some ways, I was also extraordinarily alive albeit not as much as Josh because of the baby situation - which IS a gift, but not one that necessarily made me feel vibrant and alive. This boiled down to us being prone to cross paths, throw high fives, and slap good enough on our marriage.

Also, we were sick a lot. Everyone. For all the fall and winter and most of the spring months we were there, someone was puking or snotting or coughing with fever. Let your imagination go wild.

All that to say, we knew we had to fight to spend time together, to see each other, and to protect our marriage. So, we did. We went out without our children about once every ten days - this was a result of having a good pool of babysitters at our fingertips who we knew well because we were planting a church with their families. We went out together often, and while we still had our share of issues (this isn't the first time I've written about marriage being crazy hard), we began to enjoy one another more and more. We began to live like we were on the same side. It was a gift.

Right now - it's not that simple. We are not on the same page. That isn't a cry for help or an admission of defeat - it's just the truth. We can say those truths aloud to each other and then plow through them because of one thing...we are in this. Neither one of us is packing our bags and hitting the road - not literally, not figuratively. We promised our God, and so we stay. We fight. We honor. We love. We screw up. We say we are sorry. We pray. We get up and try again tomorrow.

That's it. You're not alone. Stay. If the only reason you stay is because you stood at an altar and promised God you would, you are winning, and you are in the company of every couple who has ever made it 'til death do us part.

Making Space

Photo cred: Molly Townsend, my sister, queen of photography.

These are our babies, my sister's and mine - all spectacularly unique and still so little that they only know how to be - and make space for exactly who they are. My mom, in fact, overheard an interchange between Emily Ellen and Marilee a few months ago that still gets us tickled. They were coloring happily together until someone did something that escalated into the exchange of ugly words. They paused and Emily Ellen said to Marilee, "We should probably say we're sorry," to which my Marilee quickly replied, "I'm not sorry." At which point Emily Ellen responded, "I'm not either." And it was over. They went back to coloring. And while they may have some things to learn about apologizing when you don't feel like it, they also have some things to teach us about making space for each other. They had their tiff, said their junk aloud to one another, and then moved right along in their relationship with one another. They are so, so good at making room for each other's ugly, and I am just about smitten with it.

Can we just talk, for a minute, about how challenging it is to become the person we want to be? But seriously, I was just looking through my Evernote Notebooks (my husband just did a herkie because he has a SERIOUS Evernote crush) and found a note that I wrote in January. Not that many months ago. That I forgot existed. At all. It is a list of my goals for this year. It reads like this:

Bible

• Read through the New Testament with Calvary and journal via the FB page and Insta.

Prayer

• Pray daily with purpose and passion - but most of all with persistence.

Writing

• Write daily for one hour.

Bellwether

• Pray and watch for next steps.

Exercise

• Jog 1 mile 3 days/week. 

• Work up in ab exercises 3 days/week.

• Work up in pull ups 3 days/week.

Lumpkin.

I have managed to sort of mostly keep up with the Calvary reading plan. The end. That is all. 

I'm so good at list making and dreaming and feeling all the feelings. I'm so bad at list doing. There is more to this issue than just, "I mean - nobody keeps their New Year's resolutions." I am easily distracted by too many dreams, and I get all wrapped up in all my feelings. So many feelings and desires and passions. 

"Sometimes I have big feelings where big feelings are not needed." - Michal Lynn Tweedie

And so this becomes the issue for us dreamers. To step out of the dream world long enough to live in the real one. To put the feelings aside in order to take up the task at hand. But lists like that one up there - they are valuable, because now I remember. I remember what I set out to do in 2017, and 2017 ain't over, baby. Maybe I'll go for a jog tomorrow. Maybe you can ask me about it? Maybe I'll journal a little better about what God is teaching me through personal Bible Study. Maybe you can ask me about that, too?

Together is, in my experience, the hardest and also the most sure-fire way to get to the place you want to be.

If you're married - or really even if you are not - chances are God has put someone in your life who is the opposite of you. The very, exact opposite. I hung out with a new friend last week who expressed how very not-feely she is and how it slap wears her out when women pour out and swim in all their feelings. I giggled and shared with her that my propensity is, in fact, to BE one of those women - except that I have learned that my feelings can either be drowning agents or tools for growth. The first is what they are when I let them guide my life. The latter is what they are when I choose to look for what (or who) they are pointing me to. She later shared that sharing her "junk" in front of people is a hard thing for her. I love, love this about both of us. Can you see it? How our struggles and strengths actually complement each other?!

I have to tell you that Josh and I are struggling to muddle through how we can complement and not crush each other. We've been married for nearly twelve years, and we are so different than we were a decade ago. But our personalities are the same as they were - different as ever. Last night we had a big word vomit fest where we just laid it all on the table - everything we're muddling through. And apart from Jesus, it seems impossible to love each other well. That's the truth. But with Jesus, with Him - only Him - He can lead us both to Evernote (herkie #2) at the same time to sort out what we are thinking and feeling. Me in a coffee shop. Josh in a meeting room. And we can giggle wildly when we share our notes because his is in detailed bullet list form and mine is in the shape of a very pretty, wordy few paragraphs that reads half like a prayer and half like a journal entry.

My point is this - God has all sorts of ways of refining us - and I've come to learn that it's almost entirely through relationships. When we run into a person who challenges us, who forces us to think a little differently, who asks hard questions, who disagrees with us - what do we do? Do we run? Do we shut down? Or do we bravely, boldly say, "You. I choose you because walking alongside you will make me more like Jesus, more whole, more changed." Do we dare to be exactly who we are while blending lives with the ones who are not like we are, but are seeking to love Jesus like we are?

Gosh, I hope so. Because this is the body of Christ. Saying it hurts when it hurts. Asking about the run or the sin or the dream. Making space for feelings even when they aren't needed but loving a person too much to let them be led by their feelings instead of God's loving, disciplining Word and guiding Spirit. Making space for bullet lists even when they're boring but loving a person too much to let them be led by their doing instead of God's gracious, freeing Word and guiding Spirit. This is part of the richness of following Jesus alongside all the other ones who are following Him. It's messy and hard but He's using us to move each other toward wholeness, friends! Let's not miss it.

Again

I write this post so that all of you who are fighting for good marriages will know that you are not alone, that we are all struggling to choose to fight every single day, that we all have days and weeks and months and years where we wonder if it's really all worth it, to fight so hard for a thing that makes you so tired. If maybe it's all just a lost cause and we should settle for our relationship as it is. Marriage matters so very much. Don't let Satan slip in with His lies of not worth it because He desires to steal and kill everything that is good in this world. And marriage can be so, so good - even though on it's own, it usually isn't.

Josh and I fought last week. We said things that were unkind. It was altogether awful - the culmination of months of unsaid, unresolved hurts. My knee-jerk reaction was to run to Barnes and Noble for coffee and books - to seek comfort in the tangible and escape through the wonder of words. But on this day I made a choice to take God at His word:

Draw near to God and He will draw near to you. James 4:8 

I knew that seeking Him would not provide an escape from my circumstances but rather a way through them, that asking to know His heart would likely lead me down the harder path. Sometimes it's just so much easier to run away, but this time I didn't. This time I went to the place where I can always sense His presence, where I always see the possibility of what He can do.

The following is what I experienced while I was there:

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. Jeremiah 29:13

I watch the wind tickle the gold leaves against periwinkle blue skies, birds darting across my view like mid-day falling stars, grass-hoppers bouncing about - the popcorn of the earth. I rest in the middle of it all, entirely unnoticed by creation itself but entirely seen by the Creator.

Before Him, altogether seen, I pour out my heart - the anger, the frustration, the brokenness, the hurt, and the fact that I cannot see the next thing to do. A half-obedience, a half-marriage - that's enough, right? As long as we just stay together, it's enough. It is, isn't it? But it isn't. He is not a God who accepts half-obedience because He is a God who desires His children to know full lives.

...I have come that you may have life to the full. John 10:10

I listen. I hear what He is saying. He is asking me to fight, but I cannot muster the courage to say, "Yes."

That old tree is so grand, so magnificent. She begins to rustle at the tip top. She's going to drop all those gorgeous, gold leaves again soon and she'll stand there bare and grey in the cold for what seems like too long- but in the spring, He will fill her branches once more - old to new, bare to full.

I rise and walk, understanding that He's asking for my whole, aching heart. He's asking me to reach up and hand my heart above Josh and to Him - and in doing so I must, by default also draw closer to this man I have always loved but feel so distant from at the moment. I resist because I am tired. Weary. Not again. I cannot pour myself into this - again.

So, I crunch, crunch through the drying weeds back to my familiar path. Everything feels fuzzy, dream-like, a photo with a sunburst in the corner. Real but not - because the things that we said, the ways we've let each other down, sometimes it's painfully stunning to think about.

It's only a few steps to that house, my house, the one with the cathedral window and the falling down siding, the stone chimney covered in vine turned fire-blazing red in the autumn air, the old trucks piled out front and the sweet potato vine lime green along the fence. Maybe everyone else just sees a dump - a house falling in, unsalvageable, unimpressive. But I see dinner parties on the lawn, that Cathedral window clean and bright, white siding gleaming again. I see the stone chimney accented by that vine, not taken over by it. I see that unexpected stone front porch heavy with the footprints of people who need to believe in the possibility of restoration. And the sweet potato vine? It's just perfect as it is. I see the magnificence of "again."

And then unexpectedly, my God bends low. He whispers, "Emily, this is who you are. You see what could be - the old house lovely again, the forgotten chairs painted and right again, the drug addict alive and bright-eyed again, the sex slave walking upright and free, the orphan living in love and security in a whole family. You believe in restoration and you are a fighter. You are this because this is who I am. Believe in your marriage. Be a fighter for you relationship. Look hard for the possibility. This is who you are because this is who I am...a fighter, a redeemer, a God of 'again.'"

And so I turn around and walk back to my car, back to my regular, eternal life - unsure of what to do next, still so tired of trying - but at peace, complete peace, and

...sure of this - He who began a good work (on July 16, 2005, when two naive 21 year olds said yes to forever) will bring it to completion, all the way until Jesus comes back and makes everything new forever. Philippians 1:6 (Parenthetical addition mine)

Who knows? Maybe one day my man and I will restore that old house together, and the cathedral window will be the one that watches us grow a little older together with the passing of each day - maybe that house will always and forever be God's rainbow gift to me, a promise of His unending faithfulness. Because truly, God can do whatever He wants.

Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work in us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. Ephesians 3:20-21

Please know that if you are in a situation that feels impossible, suffocating, maybe even dead - God sees you. He is asking you to seek Him with your whole heart - no crutches, no safety nets - just the entirety of who you are before the magnitude of who He is. This is where beauty begins!

Sex, Thrills, and Fifty Shades of Grey.

Fifty Shades of Grey.

Let's just go ahead and throw it out there. The chatter is endless. The stances are varying.

I'm not here to write a critique about the movie or the books themselves. I've not read or seen them, and I do not plan to do so. It's a bad idea for my walk with Jesus and for my marriage.

Some of you are rolling your eyes. You think I'm being dramatic. You think I'm a prude and don't know how to let loose and have some fun. I want to tell you something...

I like sex. I like it often. I like it fun.

I like it with my husband - who is the only man I've ever done it with.

I know a lot of women stand on the side of sex as a chore - but there's not a thing about sex that feels the same as doing laundry to me.

When we first started - y'all. It was awkward and funky. Bless our inexperienced hearts. But it was okay because we figured it out together. It hasn't been without work - meeting each other's needs and loving each other selflessly in the bedroom. It is not without work ten years in. But seriously, it gets better and better the longer we practice. With each other. No one else is invited - not literally, not metaphorically.

There certainly have been seasons when I've felt so discouraged in our sex life that I just assumed it would always be mediocre. Early in our marriage I read tips in Cosmo and more than one cheesy "spice up your sex life" book. I bought crazy lingerie and tried my hardest to "get creative". None of it ever seemed to matter.

Finally, I started praying about it. I mean specifically praying about the details our sex life. At first it felt weird and sort of like writing this blog post knowing that my parents will probably read it. But then, slowly, things started to change. My relationship with Jesus deepened because in inviting him into this area of my marriage, I was inviting him into more of my heart. And Josh's and my sex life - all I'm going to say is - Prayer works, ladies.

I am also very familiar with that feeling of desperation to just feel SOMEthing again. To know fun and thrill and a life different than where you have ended up. I know what it is to want to escape. Running to Jesus is the answer there, too. I'm not saying that in doing so, everything suddenly comes up rosy. What I am saying is that as we run to him over and over again in the midst of our monotony, something in our hearts changes. Our need for adventure and pleasure doesn't diminish, but our focus shifts to the One who placed those needs in our hearts to begin with - to the one who will fulfill them in measures we could not even imagine.

Like I said, I don't know enough about the movies or the book to give any sort of accurate critique BUT I do know that your sex life doesn't need anything but Jesus to be awesome. Your real life doesn't need anything but Jesus to be delicious and exciting. Everything you're looking for - a way to escape, to feel alive again. You're not going to find it in some smutty movie. You will only find it when you start running with Jesus wholeheartedly.

I know from experience.

Fifty Shades of Grey is not the answer.

WARNING: Sappy Anniversary Post to Follow

To the man who has been my best friend since we were sixteen - the one who makes me laugh harder, live freer, and love deeper than anyone else - Happy Anniversary! It isn't always easy but I am desperately grateful to know that when we took our vows, we meant them. We didn't know what the keeping of them would demand of us - that it would require us to give so much of ourselves - but we never had any intention of figuring it out any other way than together. In each new challenge, in this very season we are in, I see so much Jesus in you. There is more love and grace in your commitment to me and our family than in a thousand well scripted love notes or any number of perfect anniversary weekends away. 

Good thing, because a'int nobody got time for that right now!

Thanks for an incredible nine years, Joshua Wesley, Joshy-poo, and all other manner of bizarre nicknames I assign you. I love you!

It's always been you.

The Truth About Being a Pastor's Wife: When Sharing Is Hard

[caption id="attachment_3823" align="aligncenter" width="720"] At Josh's ordination service...when the journey was just beginning.[/caption]

I have grown into this pastor's wife gig. I recently heard another pastor's wife say, "I just worry about being me and nothing else." I felt like that was really good advice, and I think that I am coming much closer to having that sort of attitude. I don't notice the loneliness like I used to. The Sunday Morning Single Motherhood thing doesn't even bother me much these days - puke-ville and all.

When Adelle - as in my first and only child at the time - was little and I still had time to curl my hair before church and be on time, nay early, to church - I made some comment about how hard my life was to a dear old friend who always calls me out on my junk and happens to also be married to a pastor's wife. His particular call out this time was an understanding head nod and, "Yeah. It's hard but you can do it. A lot of really good women have done it before you and a lot more will do it after you." As in - girlfriend, life isn't that bad and your situation isn't so spectacular that no one else has handled it, and handled it well, before.

After that I made the decision to stop being dramatic and put my big girl panties on, and for the most part I think I've kept them on - in that category at least. But there are Sundays, like this one in particular, when I find myself telling God, "I know, Lord. My life is really good. I'm sorry I am feeling a little pout-y about it, but I am." I found myself facing the same insurmountable battle I have faced for a great deal of our life here, and I was so grateful to feel Josh's arm pressed up against mine as we listened to the sermon. I was grateful to have my strong and steady best friend.

Then the closing music began, he leaned over and whispered that he wouldn't be able to help with the girls afterwards today and then took his post at the front to be available to pray with whoever might need to be loved on. But today I needed to be loved on. I wanted him to be there with me as tears welled up behind my once-a-week make-upped eyes. I didn't want to share the only person who knows me through and through - and loves me just the same. It wasn't his fault. I wasn't upset with him. I was just...sad. And a little lonely. And so, so weary.

So the truth is that most of the time I don't mind sharing my man with whoever might need him. He is good and kind and wonderful at what he does. He points people to Jesus in whatever way they might need, and that is an amazing, wonderful thing. I've grown accustomed to sharing him logistically. But every once in a while, I find myself completely unprepared to share him emotionally.

I recognize that this isn't all bad because my only choice in that moment was to look toward Jesus - to whisper my sad - and to remember that He has taught me that I'm never alone. There are people all around who don't know...they don't know that they really aren't ever alone. But not me. I get to claim that peace and grab the hand of Jesus.

Maybe I wouldn't have remembered it so readily if I'd been able to grab the hand of my man.

A God Who Makes Room: Part 1

I went to the meeting. The announcement had stirred me - not many things stir me like that, you know? The way your heart leaps and your soul leans in because you know what they're saying matters. So I asked my man if he'd like to go with me to the interest meeting. He was less than ecstatic because the logistics - financially and in this season of our life - of me going on a two week long trip across the world are just a little daunting. I told him that God can do whatever He wants.

And He does.

It turns out that as I sat in that meeting, longing to leave my normalcy and embark upon an adventure, God said to me: This is your adventure right now, Emily. You cannot leave your girls for two weeks. You will be a part of this trip, but I am asking you to stay here in the trenches.

A few days later we found out that Josh WOULD probably be going as part of his job. For two weeks - during which he would find a refreshed passion and I would turn 30 - in the trenches.

I struggled with this, understanding fully what God had whispered at the meeting. My role was to stay behind and be the mama so that Josh could go and lead to the fullest of ability. I'm not very good at staying behind. And in my head I decided that I would not - that we would be plunking down the enormous amount of money to fly to Louisiana - or drive - if that's what it took. I was NOT staying here in crazy-ville - alone.

As we began to crunch the numbers, my heart looked toward the possibility of doing this alone for two weeks. I felt nauseated. Then Josh came home and mentioned that he'd be sending out support letters - that everyone going was responsible for paying/raising the funds for their own way - even the pastors. So, could I really, in good conscience, say, "We need you to help us send Josh on this trip, but we can totally shell out $500+ to get me and the girls to Louisiana?"

In the shower - AKA my prayer closet - God said "No." And I accepted His answer. I didn't like it, but I accepted it. And then this happened...

 

This is an excerpt from a little something my sister and I are doing together. This was originally written directly to her. Some of the language has been edited for safety purposes and because I talk different to the woman who has been my best friend all my life.

But I am pressing onward - learning to flex and release - because He makes it clear that this is all there is. To bend and let go of everything I want, to release it all to Him and trust Him enough to let Him do as He pleases with the tenderest corners of my heart.

Last night I took the girls to a Night of Worship at the church that was in support of Josh's trip. I knew it would be crazy trying to corral the girls in the back while Josh did his job and everyone else worshiped. I knew I would be flying solo because in everything about this trip, I will be flying solo. Hairy, it was. The girls were active at best, cranky at worst. I started to get that anxiety feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing that this is what I had to face in a month. For two weeks, this “hanging on to self control by a tiny thread” feeling was what there was.

I want to make it about me. I want Josh to know how hard it will be. I want him to feel sorry for me and maybe a little bit guilty about going. Well, part of me does. The other part of me is annoyed with that part of me. Because really I want to be humble and serve my family graciously. I want to be unafraid and selfless because my heart truly breaks for the people this team is going to serve. They know loneliness I cannot even fathom. I want Josh to know that we are going to be fine. That I am capable, not crazy. I want him to be free to love those people entirely, unconcerned about whether or not his wife is yelling at his kids everyday - or whether he’s going to come back to a full-fledged nut job. I want him to be excited about going.

And then they started in on You Revive Me. God said, “This is your anthem. I can do this through you. Let me carry you. I will be your River of Joy in the desert. I know you feel empty and poor. That’s good - Emily - so good. I’m the treasure you can’t afford. What you are doing here, with these girls IS kingdom work. You are their first picture of Jesus. How you respond to your husband doing ministry will affect them for the rest of their lives. What you are doing here - oh yes, it is a monumental, exhausting task. I will revive you. Even though no one sees. Even though they will all pat Josh on the back and share their stories of watching others be revived. Even though you feel the vastness of solitude pressing in on you. I see you. Your work matters. I love your little girls as much as I love those Josh is going to serve - you be my instrument of revival in their little hearts. I see you.”

And so, here I go. I know my God - I know Him in the dark and in the light. He will protect me and keep me. He will revive me at the last hour if I will not work so hard to numb His touch with country music, television, and even novels. None of those are bad, but they are when I use them to numb. Pray for me, sister. I know the enemy is prowling around the perimeter of this house, waiting for an opportunity to slip in and wreak havoc.

If he does try anything, pray that I have the strength and soundness of mind to go all ninja southern mama on his hiney.

 

What I want to say to you is that two weeks later, Josh came in from a very long day of work - which meant that it had also been a very long day for me - and informed me that a family that we go to church with wanted to pay for me and the girls to go back to Louisiana while Josh was gone. And also, my Mama and Daddy who have always worked so hard to make sure I am taken care of, offered to do the same.

We leave on Sunday to go to the place that revives my spirit and fills my heart with joy - to be with the people who bring me great comfort and love my girls like I do.

God did not have to give me this gift. All kinds of women all over the world do what I do by themselves AND they work every.single.day. This is not lost on me. I am forever in awe of what they do. I could have stayed here. It would have been hard, but we would have managed. But this gift - it leaves me humbled and speechless.

He is a God who sees. He makes room for me and mine. He makes room for you and yours, too.

Green Beans and Cold Spaghetti

We sit across the table over plates of green beans and cold spaghetti. Yes, it's kind of weird but weekend food is just kind of weird around here. Marilee screams loudly and bangs on the French doors while she smudges her spitty cheeks all over the glass panes. She's watching her sister play hard with the poor Figaro, the cat, who has proven to be QUITE the good sport.

Marilee's screaming, banging, and squeaky smudging tagged onto Adelle's thumpity-thumps on the deck outside. Cold spaghetti. Desperate stares.

I finally say, "We need..."

And Josh jumps in, "...like 7 days away."

We take a moment and imagine where we would go and what we do. We don't come up with anything very exciting because, really, how would any of it ACTUALLY happen? I tell ya', we haven't been away from our children for more than 24 hours as a couple in about 2.5 years. I recognize that this probably isn't unusual.

You know what I'm talking about, right? About how you scratch the plan to watch a movie because, hello, it's already 9 pm and tomorrow is Sunday/church/THE most exhausting day of the week and there's no way staying up until 11 pm is a wise decision for anyone. Or how when you ask your husband for one thing you could work on and his response is, "I know part of it is just our stage of life, but...um...is there any way you could, like, not fall asleep on the floor as soon as I get home?" Or how you seriously wonder - just for a split second - how bad it would be just to leave the kids in bed and run to Lowe's together. Or how your man gets excited for his bathroom time - because it means he gets to be alone. Or how your most intense fantasy now consists of mostly sleep and possibly a little communication or hanky panky - but probably not both.

Tell me you KNOW what I'm talking about. That we really are not alone. Because if not, I'm going to have to feel jipped in some major way.

You do. You know. And I'm here to tell you that we do, too. That we are desperately fighting to have enough nice left over for each other at the end of each day. That a lot of days we just don't. That when people tell us to enjoy these years because they are the best of our lives, we nod because we know that in some ways they are right and that, either way, we really should be polite, but on the inside we are imagining them clipping the handle bars of their bike on a road sign causing them to flip off awkwardly - not falling hard enough to really injure themselves but big enough to make us laugh hysterically. [I may or may not have witnessed this very scene happen to the detriment of a very cute twenty something girl. I slowed down to make sure she was okay. And then I only giggled a little because I am all too aware that it could have been me - but instead of the cute twenty something I'd be the really tired "so-a-mom."]

Somehow we will make it through, and with the help of Jesus there will be a lot of joy and laughter mixed in along the way. All together now, let's push forward in this great parenting and/or marriage adventure...fists in the air, shout it out loud, let it be your anthem: Green beans and cold spagheeeeettiiiiiii!

The Truth about Being a Pastor's Wife: Sitting Duck Syndrome

Disclaimer: I think that we're all very aware that I don't have it all together - that I'm just a gal limping along from one day to the next trying to figure out how to let Jesus be enough in and through me. It has recently been brought to my attention, however, that I may have given you a false sense of perfection within Josh and within our marriage. Let me be clear - he is flawed just as much as your man. Seriously. And our marriage? Today it might resemble a stroll in the Garden of Eden itself but tomorrow it will likely look more like a long crawl in a lonely desert. We do not have it all together. I think he's incredible in a lot of ways. In the ways that I don't, well, that's for me, Josh, and God to work through. I'm not going to lay it out there for all of you because his flaws are not mine to share. I just want you to know that they are there and they are real - just like yours and just like mine. More importantly, he loves Jesus and he is a better man than he was three years ago. We have a better marriage than we did three years ago. Works in progress, people! Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Appreciate your pastoral leaders who gave you the Word of God. Take a good look at the way they live, and let their faithfulness instruct you, as well as their truthfulness. Hebrews 13:7

Back in 2007 when Josh declared his excitement about working in ministry full time, I declared my UN-excitement for a variety of reasons - the most significant one being that I did not/do not want our marriage, our family, or our life to be one giant sitting duck. Let me explain. People have a tendency to place those who work in full time ministry a notch or two above the rest of us. The expectations are higher, the dependency is greater, and the attention to the details of their lives is more intense. This freaks me out because, hello? Gal limping. Works in progress. Flawed man. And people are supposed to be watching us carefully? Just typing that sentence makes my heart flutter and my stomach swirl.

Sitting Duck Syndrome. When God singles someone out and tells everyone else to "look at the way they live and to let their faithfulness instruct," Satan does not hold back. He takes aim and shoots to kill. He is ruthless and unfair and has himself a big ole' time wreaking havoc in the lives of anyone who anyone thinks is a faithful follower of Jesus. So, it freaked me out. It still freaks me out because I get it. He doesn't play fair. He targets my marriage where it is the weakest. He does it slowly so that I don't really notice. He targets our family life so that there is a constant feeling of unrest and lack of peace within our home but we aren't really sure what to give up in order to restore it. He targets my attitude and my fears so that I walk around so preoccupied with my own little world that I fail to live in the world all around me. He gives me front row seats to other ministry families barely surviving through sin or sickness or wayward children. He watches as I panic and hide under a blanket of worry and isolation because I'm trying so hard to protect our family. He's mean and nasty and he pretty much sucks.

My word for 2013 is Pray. I am not hiding this year. I am getting on my knees and joining the battle. If Satan wants to take a shot at us, fine, but I am not going to stare helplessly down the barrel of his gun. Shield of faith and sword of truth, baby. Do what you will, big fat butt-faced liar, but we are letting our Jesus fight for us, and he wins this war. Boo-yah!

So, this is me celebrating that last little bit of Hebrews 13:7. "...as well as their truthfulness." Jesus is the only source of any and all good in us - in our family - so we are hanging on to him. That's the best thing any of us can do - hold on to Jesus and be honest about the struggles and joys of this life. Thank you, thank you, thank you for letting me be honest with you and for being honest right back!


Keep on keepin' it down and dirty. Love y'all like crazy!

The Truth About Being a Pastor's Wife: Our Marriage Isn't Perfect Either

I feel like some women might fantasize about being married to a pastor because they have mistakenly believed that ministry marriages are all butterflies and spiritual conversations and praying together as a family all of the time. I feel like most of you probably haven't fallen prey to that misconception, but just in case there are any stragglers out there who are believing the "Marriage is incredible when you're married to a man whose job it is to love God and love people" lie, let me set you straight.



We probably talk about the Bible and spiritual matters as much as any other couple who is learning to follow Jesus and trying to raise a young family - maybe less in rough patches because we're so saturated with it in every other area of our lives. So, if either of us isn't seeking the Lord daily, He and His work quickly become the last thing I want to talk about because I lose the joy apart from Him.

We argue - at least every other day. We are much better at not fighting and instead arguing kindly but we still do it. We are polar opposites and disagree regularly - about finances, about how we should spend our quality time together, about parenting, about sex. And occasionally we yell at each other. We don't always resolve it and then pray.

We are deeply terrible communicators - particularly with each other.

Josh is an incredible man, husband, and father, but he is not perfect. He doesn't have all the answers. He's not always sweet.

I do my best to be faithful to God in His calling on my life to be a wife and a mother, but I am not perfect either. I am stubborn and a recovering high maintenance gal. I'm DEFINITELY not always sweet.

So, what we've established is that we have issues, too, and quite frankly could probably stand to get some good counseling from an older, godly, experienced couple. Who do we go to, though? I mean, he's their pastor, too. It seems awkward to ask for help from the people you're supposed to be leading. I feel confident this is a sign of our pride, but still - we cannot broadcast our deepest marital issues for the world to see and hear. Everything I've shared with you is, I feel like, probably common to every relationship. But we have other issues - real ones that I'm SO not telling you about. :)

So what do I do with a marriage that is good but has room to be great?

I pray. I identify the specific areas of our relationship that could stand to be better and I lay them before the God who can do whatever He wants [Eph. 3:20]. And I choose grace instead of harsh words. I choose gratefulness instead of criticism. I choose to focus on a change in me and not in Josh.

This is vital for our survival as a family - my praying over our marriage, I mean. It is not an option but a necessity if we are to stand in the face of the powers that war against us [Eph 6:12]. Because of what Josh does, I'm not the only woman he hugs and counsels and shows care for. I once heard another pastor's wife say, "You look up and you're like, 'Who IS that woman and why does she keep touching my husband?!'" I laughed out loud because I totally get that. It's all too common for pastors and men in ministry to fall prey to the sin of adultery. The knowledge of this combined with Josh's kind heart, painfully good looks, and unbelievable sense of style could send me spiraling into the pit of insecurity. It actually does, from time to time. I know my God, though, and I know that He can and will protect us as long as we are diligent to keep our marriage healthy and alive and in fellowship with Him.

So, I pray. Basically, I do what you do when you want your marriage to be better, more solid, more vibrant and fulfilling! Gals, we pray.

Keep on keepin' it down and dirty. Love y'all like crazy!

 

The Truth about Being a Pastor's Wife: The Moments

A lot of days, being a pastor's wife is challenging - usually not in big, unbearable ways, but in a whole lot of little ways that pile up over time. The lifestyle certainly is something that requires adjusting to, but really everything unfamiliar to us requires some sort of adjustment.

With Josh doing what he does, there are these moments when the clouds clear and suddenly it all looks beautiful and just right - like a Florida summer sky.

Last Sunday was a typical Sunday - wholly ordinary. Good and challenging and like most every other Sunday. At the end of the service, Josh slipped out from beside me to be present at the altar for prayer and/or counseling. Again, typical. Sometimes I watch him during this time because he's my man and I like to watch him doing his thing. Last week, he was immediately swept up in talking with and loving on a deaf woman. The translator did come down and help but because God has given Josh a unique desire and ability to know different languages so that HE can communicate with people directly, he knows quite a bit of sign language all by himself.

As he finished up praying with her, an olive-skinned, dark-eyed, weeping woman who had required the help of two other pastors was ushered over to Josh because, as it turns out, she speaks Portuguese, and it took two of them just to figure out what she needed. They ushered her over to Josh, who also speaks Portuguese and has a deeper understanding of her culture and where she's coming from than the other two pastors do, and he talked and prayed with her freely. No barriers.

I am not sure, but I think that it happened again with a woman who spoke Spanish.

Here's the deal: the Holy Spirit can do whatever He wants and in no way do I think that the other pastors or even one of us regular Joe's [PLEASE sense my sarcasm there] couldn't have loved on those women just as effectively, but on Sunday I was struck. Hearing your own language in a land where you struggle to communicate daily or encountering someone who knows that you do one kiss on the cheek instead of a handshake is like the scent of your Mama's pot roast smacking you in the face when you walk in the door after church. It is warmth and familiarity and ease and truly the deepest sort of comfort there is. God is all over that because isn't everyone more likely to have an open conversation when the smell of Mama's pot roast is wafting around the room?!

Those precious women and countless others are able to get a taste of their Mama's pot roast because Josh said "Yes" when God asked him to surrender and serve Him in vocational ministry.  I'm so grateful that I get to witness those moments because they help me plug ahead when the little challenges start piling up and I think I might need a break from being  a pastor's wife for a while.

Told ya' there'd be a positive one of these bad boys :)

Keep on keepin' it down and dirty. Love y'all like crazy!

The Truth about Being a Pastor's Wife: Who teaches HIM how to do it?

Several weeks ago I attended our small group at church. I don't go every week and it seems that I don't go most weeks these days. There are a great many reasons for this that aren't relevant to this particular story but probably will be addressed at some point in the near future. Regardless, I was immediately sucked into the teaching conversation that was happening - Biblical Models for Parenting: King David and His Boys...What NOT To Do. It was so refreshing to hear from other believers, what they struggle with, how they achieve success, even if only one battle at a time. It was great to be reminded of the Biblical examples of parenting - good AND bad. It was refreshing and encouraging.

And Josh didn't hear a word of it. Because, ya' know, it was Sunday and he was working.

Disclaimer: These are my concerns, not Josh's. He has never complained about any of the following. I just want that to be clear.

This one pops up a lot for me. As a pastor he spends a great deal of time loving on, listening to, sharing with, and teaching other people. But, news flash, he's just a person, too. Who in the heck loves on, listens to, shares with, and teaches him? Who does he go to when he doesn't know what to do with our kids anymore? Better yet, who does he go to when he doesn't know what to do with ME anymore?? When does he get the opportunity to sit and soak in a lesson or a message without having to dart out three times to check on this and that? Who does he go to when he's struggling with things that are deeply personal? [I'd actually like to know the answer to that one for myself as well, but we'll save that for another day.] Who are his peeps? Who will help my man?

It feels like the direct result of my man working in the place that people go to for strength, encouragement, knowledge, and refuge means that I'll have to stand behind him and share the strength, encouragement, knowledge, and refuge I receive. Like since he doesn't sit under a teacher every week, I'll just have to teach him what I learned. I don't know if you've tried the whole "teaching" your husband thing, but it rarely goes well in our household. Actually, it's rarely actually heard in our household so I may as well save my breath.

What God is teaching ME is that I'm mistakenly making it my job to teach, convict, or guide Josh. And even if there IS no one else, Josh sits under the ultimate teacher - Jesus himself - and that's enough. That's actually best. Maybe Josh understands more about leaning directly on God instead of others than I do. Maybe God's got it under control. And maybe I should focus more on applying the things that He's taught ME. Maybe ;)

As you can tell, I'm still working through this one and chances are, there are a great many of you who have husbands who don't go with you to said classes or to any classes or have a community to walk with them through the junk and you feel the same way about them. This one is most definitely NOT restricted to pastor-hood. So tell me, how do you handle it? This wrestling gal would like to know!

A night of more exciting digs

After a full day of appointments and impulse purchases - hair re-dyed red and nails painted hazy, I slipped the Marshall's deal of a dress over my head. The cheap red wedges that have laid dormant and dusty in my closet since the days before toddler chasing became most of me felt like summer and a touch of sass on my feet. Jewelry draped and a flower in my freshly auburned hair for good measure, I found a touch of those butterflies I used to get when he showed up at my front door as a girl and an almost woman. They felt something like comfort and anticipation all snuggled up and giggling shamelessly, eager to share a little bit of their happy.

I moved through the remainder of my maker of our home responsibilities - half sweating to death in my new impulse buy dress and willing the whiniest part of me to stay silent. The hooligan child within me joined my own hooligan offspring in a wild, excited dance around our living room - celebrating the bliss of a thing anticipated. We doled out quick and genuine goodbyes to that girl who has brought so much life into our home and very nearly hop skipped to the mini-van we swore we would never own.  

We digested God's Word Truths over Thai food with nary an awkward moment of silence.  Moments of silence may have popped in, but they were so natural that I cannot be sure whether they were real or not.  I marveled at the freckles on his nose and the green in his eyes.  He flirted without abandon and said he meant it with a wink or two.  

His pockets emptied for my Junior Mints craving and a photo booth experience, I felt valued and loved and worth it. And sixteen again. I so hope he felt all of his favorite things from me, too. The night sauntered by along the waves of the sultry, summer heat and we sauntered right along with it, savoring the richness of alone and together - the two things that started it all.  And I believe we were able to shake off the sweats of roommate love and slip into the more exciting digs of slap crazy about each other for a little while because of genuine prayers from the deepest places of my heart.  

He hears those sorts of things, you know?  And He wants us to remember what's so great about each other. I'm just grateful He gives me sense enough to open the door when it comes a'knockin', the remembering, I mean.  

And tomorrow or the next day or the next when we've slipped back into our sweats, I'll glance at those photo booth pictures and remember that there IS something more exciting in our closet - even though in this season we don't wear it quite as often as we used to.  

Six Years. Amen.

Saturday was our anniversary.  Six years we've been married.  We've been together for nearly twelve!  Saturday also happened to be one Miss Magnificent's birthday party.  My Hunk went out to pick up the birthday cake and returned with these...

I was utterly and completely surprised.  My kitchen has smelled like our wedding all week :)  That was the extent of our celebrating on Saturday but tonight we get a real date night.  And Harry Potter.  How silly, right?  But he is my best friend - through and through - and when our life together is over, it will be like breathing the closing of one highly extravagant praise, a deeply honest prayer...to the One who has stitched us together with the threads of grace and time. 

Joshua, you truly are the love of my life.  Happy Anniversary!  Every word of this song makes me think of you...

Disclaimer:  This video is utterly ridiculous but it's the only copy I could find of the song online.  Just close your eyes and listen.  Or read the lyrics at the bottom :)

We will have love
We will have pain
There will be days and days and days that feel the same
We will have fear
We will have joy
And maybe little girls and little boys

We will have friends
We will have peace
There will be nights of lights and music 'til you sleep
We will be strong
We will still break
We'll live through so much more than we can take

Amen
Amen
With the dawn, we all begin again
Amen
Amen
What is done, and yet to come
Amen

We will have hope
We will have doubt
There will be memories we could never live without
We will have tears
But there will be grace
There will be prayers that we never thought we'd pray

Amen
Amen
With the dawn, we all begin again
Amen
Amen
What is done, and yet to come
Amen

In the sun or the storms
The flood or the flames
Let everything come, and I'm the one to blame
In heartache or hope
I swear I'll say, I'll say

Amen
Amen
With the dawn, we all begin again
Amen
Amen
What is done, and yet to come
Amen 

Not enoughs got you down? Me, too.

We move through our days doing and going and playing and wiping.  Loving and supporting and praying and help-mating.  We strive and we toil and we drink a lot of coffee.  Then we lay down in our beds and wonder if we did enough.  If we are enough to the people who truly matter most in our deepest soul places.  And if you are anything like me, we usually decide that we are not.  That we must do better tomorrow, be better tomorrow.

And it doesn't matter how many times our friends dole out good mama compliments or our hunks gush over our enough-ness, we still cannot completely believe them because they do not see us in the moments when we are not enough.  We are broken and cannot possibly always be enough.  We are not Him.

But He IS enough.  

I, I'm the One comforting you...For I am God, your very own God, who stirs up the sea and whips up the waves, named God-of-the-Angel-Armies.  I teach you how to talk [insert all your not good enoughs], word by word, and personally watch over you.  Even while I'm unfurling the skies, setting the earth on solid foundations..."  Isaiah 51:12-16

And so if today or last night or every night you find/have found yourself shedding tears into the silence, mourning your not enough-ness, perhaps you should turn on a light, even if only a small one, and think about who GOD is and what HE promises to do FOR you.  He doesn't lie and He doesn't fail.  

And when you find yourself comforted, the not enoughs quieted, remember that He is the One who comforts you.  He hears your cries, holds your tears, and sends your help.  Acknowledge Him when the comfort is true and lasting and passes understanding because such comfort is always from Him.

And though those not enoughs will probably continue to peek around the corners of our souls now and again, we do not have to invite them in for tears and self-mourning.  We do have the power within us to leave them gazing longingly at a life lived hand in hand with God-of-the-Angel-Armies.  Our God who IS enough.  

We praise you, Father!

How in the HECK did we end up together?!

Some girls lay in bed as high school and college students begging that God would let them marry a minister. It’s true. I know them. They are nice, genuine women who I have a great deal of respect for. I was not one of ‘em. Nope. Never did I ever ask for a life in vocational ministry. Never did I even consider it. Instead, my prayers, from the time I was about sixteen and a half, if I remember correctly, consisted of pleas for marriage to one man…one boy at the time. Joshua Wesley Blackwell. With his strong jaw and soft chuckle and gentle spirit. Did I ever love that boy! [Still do, for the record]

Head on over to He Loves Us and check out my latest downest and dirtiest words.

The Ever-Changing Us-Ness

Down and Dirty

@

helovesus.org

Budget Blues

I've always been very well cared for. Always had more than I needed. Never really wanted for anything. And I am exceedingly thankful for that! I wish that in my heart of hearts I never REALLY wanted for anything. Oh but I did, and I do, want for more. More than I need. More than is necessary. It's a battle that I've been having with myself probably since middle school. For example, while all my friends got new cars when they turned sixteen and then another round of new cars when they headed off to college, I drove the same 1995-no power steering, locks, or windows-stick shift-hand-me-down-from-my-Daddy-Saturn until just a few years ago when a big 18-wheeler totalled it. I had to work for most of the things I did on the weekends - going to the movies. Going out to eat with my buds. Going to the beach in the summer. This continued on into college. I worked for the money I got and did without fancy clothes or fancy anythings. And I'm genuinely not sad about this at all. Occasionally it frustrated me when I was younger - but that was only when the amount of money I earned did not match up with the amount of money I liked to spend. My parents gave me a lot - for sure! They paid for my college education - all of it. I am so grateful for that! I am also grateful that I had to work for things. And that I had to do without things. Because that is real life. [I'm not saying that if your parents gave you money they were wrong or you're not a well-rounded adult as a result. I'm just saying that God knew that I could not be showered with the fancy stuff because if I had been, I would place entirely too much importance on it!]

I do love fancy things, though. And when I find something I want, I'm not very good at waiting to get it. It is, therefore, good that I married a man who is, ummm, frugal. Yes frugal is a nice way to say that [I love you, Joshy!]. A few years ago we made the commitment to live debt-free and save our money so that life's little surprises wouldn't completely throw us into the hole. This means that we live within a VERY strict budget, thanks to Mr. Frugal, and do without a lot of things so that we can save like crazy. In our present situation, with a husband who is working a decent paying but not necessarily well-paying job when the cost of living is what it is and a wife who is working a no-paying, monetarily speaking, job, things can get a little tricky! And I sometimes find myself very frustrated.

We use the envelope system. For groceries and for all spending money. When it's gone, it's gone. So use it wisely. Sooo, Friday I sat down to make my menu for the week and my grocery list and then thought that I'd better check to see how much money we had left for the month. The grand total - $84 for the rest of the month. For anything you purchase at a grocery store [not including Adelle's formula and diapers]. And I'm hosting a Girls' Night here on Friday night. And I had yet to buy the goodies for the partay. Very trick business, I tell you. So, I carefully weighed my menu options - choosing only meals that could be made using canned goods or ingredients I already had. This will not be the healthiest two weeks of eating, but we will be fed. I decided I would make our bread. I have a yummy Honey Wheat Bread Machine recipe and all the ingredients to do it, so why not?

Armed with the grocery list, my trusty calculator, a handful of coupons, and a somewhat apprehensive attitude toward the budget puzzle I was staring in the face, I marched myself into Publix and began weaving my way up and downt he aisles. After having placed all the items I needed into the cart, I was at $53. This would not do. I had to get it down to $42 so that I could at least have $42 for next week. Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmmm. What will I give up? I made my way over to the coffee aisle and traded the $7 bag gourmet coffee [for the girls' night] for boring, shmoring $3 Foldger's. Then I returned the ground beef to it's resting place and decided I would trade that meal for good ole' beans and rice, which Josh happens to love. This still did not get me down to $42, but I decided to just go with it and face an even more difficult budget puzzle next week.

The nice Publix cashier announced my total as $40 and something cents! [I am sharing with you the exact amounts of money spent so that you know that it is, indeed, possible] Go coupons! Go God for honoring my little sacrifice of gourmet coffee and ground beef! I walked out feeling very triumphant and determined that I must write about the experience.

If you, like me, feel a like it is IMPOSSIBLE to live on such a limited budget, take heart. And be encouraged by my story! No one really cares whether you serve gourmet coffee or Foldger's. And if they do, you may not want to be their friend anyway. AND don't be embarrassed to put things back. This does not mean you are a loser! It just means that you are wisely spending your money on things that are necessary and important. And celebrate the self-discipline God is teaching you through your budgeting blues!

Keep on keepin' it down and dirty!

If you need a cheap-o meal, this is an all time fave of mine. A recipe of my mother's, as always...

Simple Soup
1 can chili, no beans
1 can corn
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can Veg-all
1 can vegetable soup

Dump it all in a pot and heat it up. The end.

To be Fifteen-ish Again

Me with my buds - at fifteen-ish.

I went to see New Moon this afternoon.  By myself.  After rewatching the first one, Josh decided that he definitely did not need to see the second one in theatres.  So off I went by myself (he, being the grand husband and daddy that he is, hung out with Adelle while I took some time off) for two hours of pure enjoyment.  Really and truly - I enjoyed every minute of it.  And I knew what was coming!  I must say that in the realm of books becoming movies, this was an excellent depiction of the real spirit of the book.  Go movie people!

I digress.

So back to the by myself part.  I was mildly saddened by the fact that I was going alone but only as I was buying my ticket.  There's just something sorta depressing about saying, "One for New Moon," and knowing that you are 26 and teeny-bopper movie watching girlfriend-less.  But I got over it.  Clearly.  When I walked in, there were actually zero teenage girls to be seen, which I was sort of glad about because teenage girls are not my specialty.  Funnily enough, I was at one time the epitomy of an annoying teenage girl.  Just before the movie started, though, in marched about eight 15-ish year old girls.  Still awkward, but not for long - you can see them now.  They were very giggly and clearly elated to be there.  And I surprised myself with a little smirk...because the spirit of that movie really isn't complete without the ooo's and ahhh's and giggles of 15-ish girls.

The movie began and I slipped into the world of vampires and werewolves and supernatural boys who are borderline crazy about regular old girls (I mean, she's beautiful but exceedingly insecure and doesn't smile very much).  They fight monsters and are willing to die to be with her.  I mean, does anyone wonder why girls (and women) love these books/movies so much?  We all want to be pursued, protected, and unabashedly loved by supernaturally spectacular men who are (let's be honest) fun to look at and our best friend at the same time.

After I left, I thought about those 15-ish girls, cheering for their respective teams - Edward or Jacob - and I couldn't help but be a little envious.  Because for a lot of them, that's the most important thing going on in their world.  And because some of them still believe that such a supernatural, awe-inspiring, monster-killing man exists.  Don't get me wrong...we "old ladies" love our men.  But they are human.  And they don't kill monsters.  And our relationship with them is hardly epicly romantic.

It would be nice to revisit that time when all your dreams could and would come true.

But here's what's great about where I am now:  I'm dreaming with my God rather than with myself.  And I'm raising a little girl who has her whole life to dream fantastically.  And although I did not marry an Edward or a Jacob, I did marry a Joseph (as in Mary's husband, Joseph).  And he is loving and kind and also fun to look at.  And real.  And there is definitely something supernatural about that!