'til death do us part

friday i am going to go wedding dress shopping for the first time in my life. my mom is going to make appointments at various shops in the bay area and we'll go....play dress up. at least that's how it will feel, i'm sure.

amidst the fairly superficial wedding planning, i have thought a lot (and yet nearly not enough) about what marriage means to me now (an inexperienced soon-to-be bride) and what it will mean to me later (an older veteran to this lifetime partnership). i am not really a romantic person (even though i will only watch romantic comedies). no, not in the traditional sense at least. i do not really like nice jewelry, or fancy flowers around every corner, or candlelit dinners. i much rather enjoy discussing interesting things, or snuggling, or cooking together, or goofing around. this all leads me to my idea that marriage is not romantic. i think marriage is a lot of work. it is like building a huge, never ending structure or something. a structure that might even have to be torn down and rebuilt over and over as people (and the relationship) changes. i also believe that marriage is about service. it is about serving an individual (dying to oneself) every single day of one's life. it is about being joyful in that service (this might be the most difficult part) for the rest of your life. it is not about giving 50% and getting 50%, in fact i don't think it can be quantified in any percentage breakdown. it seems dangerous as it sets up all kins of expectations - even if you end up giving 60%, you still expect to receive 40%. but i am hopeful about marriage. i am hopeful because i believe that God is constantly working and moving and challenging two individuals in a shared life. with God as the foundation. so regardless of how many times the house needs to be rebuilt, the foundation is always the same.

i also think that God had some say (or most of the say) in how it is that i met peter. that he brought me to a place where i had a choice to take what God was offering me, or reject it. and i decided to take it in a way that i am not doing a good job of explaining. there is something deeply moving about the way in which two people come together that i believe has divine intervention. do i believe that there is only one person for us in the world? no. but that God saw where we were at in our lives and brought us to a place of willingness to give one to the other...that i believe. had i not felt that God moved me to pursue a relationship with peter, or had i missed God's intentions and not chosen to pursue peter, then i believe that God would have provided someone else in my life in a different circumstance and for different reasons.

basically what i'm saying is, marriage is God. it is a reflection of our relationship with him on some level. and it deserves the same work and love and prayer that we put into maintaining our relationships with God. and that i am hopeful and faithful about how marriage could radically change me and my life for the better.

ask me in about 10 years if i still think the same way. i certainly hope so.

what if we

i spent a lot of time yesterday looking for new music. in the midst of this search, i stumbled upon a new album called, "what if we." it made me long for this church that i used to go to, where the words that were spoken at every meeting were, "what would it look like if..." this concept of living out the love of christ. what would it look like? what would that mean? how would it change...everything? it was a powerful question that continues to challenge me at different moments in my life.

i've spent a lot of time these past two weeks being lonely. or irritable. or bitter. there has been a lot of angst around friends staying in touch and petty bickering about who is trying harder to make those relationships work. what would it look like if i just loved them, simply, where they are at, not who i want them to be? gave up my own sadness and hurt and need to be genuinely caring and compassionate to people who mean so much to me? it's a difficult place to be, especially for someone like myself who is stubborn, and self-righteous much of the time.

in order to help me along my way in this desire to really truly love people (to be on good terms, to not hold grudges, to not talk negatively about) i have some mantras. "do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider other better than yourselves" philippians 2:3. this one sits in a "verse-a-day" envelope on the wall above my desk that cassie made for me long ago. i refuse to change the index card to the next verse because this one speaks to me so strongly i like having the physical reminder of it. my other mantras include, "seven times seventy" in reference to the verse about forgiving people not seven times, but seven times seventy times. i think that's how it goes. it's really hard to forgive someone of the same hurt multiple times. but i am trying. i definitely don't succeed very often, but i keep on trying. and the last one is one of my favorites (of course it's from some chain email), "be kinder than necessary, for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle." this really gets me through moments when i am judging other people or when i think really bad thoughts about someone. it gives me a moment to recognize them as human beings with their own struggles and difficulties. no one is perfect. even those people who i see as having all their stuff together - even they are not perfect and are dealing with their own inner battles. it helps me to love them better.

peter and i always talk in buber language when we are discussing our relationship or the relationship we have with others. buber is brilliant and should be read at some point in everyone's life, even if it is just his wikipedia page. but this main concept of "i-thou" has been pivotal in how i think about relationships to the people i love, the people i don't, the people i don't know, God, and the world at large. it is this concept of not objectifying the person, not making your relationship with them an "i-it" relationship. not making that person an "other" without feelings, cares, or soul. it is when we see people for who they are, rather than who we think they are that we are making the relationship, "i-thou." for me and peter it goes something like this, usually post-tiff: "i wasn't able to i-thou you then. i'm sorry." it is a very powerful concept that has also been something i have included in my running thoughts.

i expect change to occur in my life. i believe it can happen. i know i will not succeed. it is living with this constant failure to make people "thous" instead of "its" that makes me understand how much i need grace. and how if i can so easily fall short of what jesus asks me to do (love people) and how much forgiveness he is capable of, then there is no reason i cannot do the same for others.

what if we...

it's a very powerful thing indeed.

dinner: european style

living at home after six years on your own is a challenging experience. don't get me wrong, i'm extremely grateful for the free housing and food - it's very generous of my parents to take me back in and provide for me in this way.

and yet...it's like dealing with the most difficult kind of roommates possible. there are rules. there are obligations. there are complicated emotions. no longer can you eat a healthy, normal meal at a reasonable hour. you are obligated to eat dinner after 9pm, with family. no longer can you hide in your room and do schoolwork or talk on the phone. you are required to visit with family friends, grandparents, neighbors who come by. no longer can you be truthful (even lovingly) with those around you. you are bound to stepping on egg shells so as not to trigger an overworked father, or send your on-the-edge mother into a fit of weeping.

it can get tense. and stressful. and people don't really understand.

but in spite of it all, i am thankful for the opportunity to learn again and again how to love my parents in this new and very different way. i am thankful for the opportunity (albeit very trying at times) to be patient with them and recognize my own faults and shortcomings. as this wedding approaches, it will be for me a very significant change in my life. not that it isn't for most people, but because i will leave my parents' house and live with my husband. the separation will not only be figurative, but literal as well. so i continually remind myself of this fact - that i need to love them now and be present with them now because this time will most likely will not come again in such a context.

on faith

i don't like school. in fact, i loathe it. yes, i am in a 5 year phd program. yes, i just started year 2 of 5. but i really really can't stand school anymore. i'm not sure i ever could. i keep on going back to this question of "what really matters?" does it matter that i am stuck in a classroom all day discussing my "productivity" on my master's thesis and how i should be working more on it, because it is supremely important that i finish it fast and that it is good? does it matter that i know how to determine how many standard deviations away someone's IQ score is from normal?

i don't really know.

what i do know is the way i feel alive when i arrive at my practicum site, knowing i'll get to see "my kids" as i like to call them, knowing i might get one small chance to connect with one of them and that one peek into their lives makes my whole day worthwhile. it is there where i want to learn how to be a good therapist. so i begin to doubt this whole concept of academia. of following other people's rules, and not my own understanding and God's insight.

i've been reading this book alex gave me called "redeeming love," and it really has been challenging me and reminding me of God's love. i have fantasies of abandoning ship and committing my life to serving people. perhaps then i will feel right and content. peter made the good point, though, of being content and faithful in any and every situation we find ourselves. perhaps God wants me to be a light in this moment, even though it is so difficult to be a light when these people only want to see dark. and the goals for this academic life are how much you can publish, whose butt you can kiss, and how many classes you can take. it's demoralizing. it's demoralizing just to play their game. i'm trying to be faithful, so sit quietly with God trusting He will give me insight, or peace, or direction. is this desire to quit my own insecurities and disgust with this way of life, or is it truly from God, telling me to spend my time elsewhere? and if it is the latter, how will i deal with the larger sin of pride and failure if i were to leave the program after the first year?

and he calls us to love. in the meantime, this is my most important task.

a very long day

it's 5:24 am as i start writing. i have been awake for almost 24 hours and can feel my eyes start to close unwillingly and my throat close up. i want to sleep. the heaviness that comes when you haven't slept for a very long time weighs me down, deep in the blue vinyl airport seat.

we left duluth at 7:15 am Sunday morning for a 3 hour drive to the st. paul/minneapolis airport. we knew we would arrive 3 hours early for our friends who were leaving earlier than we were. but what we didn't know is that our flight (originally leaving at 2:43pm arriving boston 10:30pm) was delayed. first an hour. then two more hours. then another hour. then finally three more hours. seven hours in total. peter stood in line twice to see if we would miss our connecting flight, i stood in line for an hour once, and we changed flights back and forth, called our families, made glamorous plans and waited. when we finally board our flight to atlanta, we had been at the airport for nearly 11 hours and were informed that we would miss our connecting flight home to boston.

our flight took longer than the pilot thought and then when we landed at 1am, we had to sit on the runway for an hour. i can't explain the feeling or the sentiment that was trapped on that plane. it was like a living nightmare. i could actually imagine having that nightmare - stuck on a plane with panicked, angry, tired, self-righteous, and fed up. after going through all our possible housing options, we realized we weren't going to be able to sleep in a bed.

and then we exited the plane, finally, only to be greeted by swarms of sleeping families, panicked individuals, the smell of rotting food and human sweat, and stressed out airtran workers. peter and i looked at each other and laughed. what else was there to do? we both prayed silent prayers of thanks that we had each other, that we were still alive, and that we were still able to laugh at our incredible bad luck.

our luck turned a bit after the overwhelming scene of lost crowds (all of airtrans flight in and out of atlanta had been delayed four plus hours leaving thousands of people stranded). we were able to change our flight from 9:30am to 7:00am so we could make it to boston earlier. closer to a bed. peter snoozed for a bit, i finished some work, and tried to stay awake.

now, after a breakfast burrito and some hot chocolate, i will have successfully pulled my first (complete) all nighter. 24 hours straight. minus maybe 15 minutes on the plane ride to atlanta. i feel ill. i can't wait to get home.

how a blue tarp ruined my life

the series of unfortunate events really began that day in dr. webb's office. "i'm concerned about the mole on the bottom of your foot as well as the one in the middle of your chest," said the dermatologist. "since they might be cancerous, i'd like to just cut them off right now," he said matter-of-factly. i panicked, not emotionally prepared for surgery right then. "i'll be back in two weeks for a wedding," i said somewhat frantically, trying to get out of lying down on the paper covered plastic reclining chair and having my dermatologist cut holes out of my skin as if he were doing an art project. "no, no, i can do it right now. i'll only take five minutes," he said as the nurse walked in. it was awful. while i couldn't exactly feel the knife cutting my skin, i felt him pinch up the surrounding skin and felt the pressure of the knife enough to make me woozy and sweaty. good thing i didn't end up going to med school.

so then i hopped (literally) on a redeye to boston where i'll be for the summer. at least i'm going to a beautiful apartment near harvard square and can rest my foot and look out the window for a while, i thought to myself as i staggered off the plane jet-lagged and sore. i finally made it to my apartment and opened the door, only to be greeted by the sound of drills outside the windows, scaffolding, and construction workers directly outside my window. all this covered by a tremendous blue tarp, shutting out all natural light or view of the outside. a slip of paper on the ground notified all residents that the construction had begun its third phase and to keep all windows closed from 8am to 5pm so dust did not get into the units. thank you for your patience, it read, not very apologetically.

what else does one do in a situation like that but fall on the couch in tears, sobbing uncontrollably? i was so deep in self-pity after having been chopped up ruthlessly by my dermatologist, exhausted from jet-lag and lack of sleep, and miserably disappointed by my jail-like abode.

after i had cried out all conceivable tears and coughed and snotted my way threw handfuls of napkins, i immediately emailed the girl who is subletting me the apartment. i wrote a scathing, irritated, desperate email and then revised it to make it a bit more humane. after many emails back and forth, it has not been decided that she will give me 50% off the rent for the month (yes, a month) that the blue tarp will be making my once-lovely apartment a depressing hole. there is nothing the management can do, apparently. i have no idea why the tarp is up and why they refuse to take it down at the end of the work day. i have pleaded with the workers themselves, but they claim to not speak english except to say, "de boss say put de plasteek up. so i put de plasteek up." i try really hard not to start shouting at them. i think they speak portuguese, otherwise i'd explain how sad i am all the time because i cannot see the sky. el cielo, i'd say. no puedo ver el cielo o el sol o la luna. por favor.

every morning i wake up hoping the tarp will be gone, magically. every time i come back to the apartment i say a mini prayer, hoping the tarp will be gone, magically. and every morning and every time i return, it's still there. taunting me with its glowing blue-ness.

today i scrawled a note in desperate writing, "please take down or remove the plastic at the end of the day. i can't see outside my windows :( " and i hung it outside my window. it is now past 5pm and the tarp is still up. i am trying so hard not to be completely miserable, but since my foot is bummed, i can't walk anywhere easily to get away from the suffocating apartment. i have fantasies of cutting the tarp down myself, in the middle of the night, when no one can see me.

three days ago i found out the mole on my chest is "pre-cancerous" and that my dermatologist wants to cut out an ever deeper and wider chunk of skin, "just to make sure." i don't mean to sound ungrateful, because i'm so thankful that i can afford health care and that he caught the skin cancer in time. it's just another addition to the pile.

two days ago i massively burned a two by three inch section of my arm while boiling water for tea.

last night there were thunderstorms and i had nightmares about random people crawling up the scaffolding to my window and breaking the windows and killing me. and the ceiling fan squeaks, making me paranoid there were mice in the apartment. needless to say, i had to take two benadryl to get back to sleep.

it feels as if the blue tarp has blocked out all my sense of joy by blocking out the light. it's hard to understand anything or do anything when i am surrounded by blue plastic. it's suffocating and miserable. i try not to be so self-pitying because it's an unattractive and unfortunate quality, but every time i look out the window, or every time i have to return to my apartment, the panic and dread well up inside of me.

i was listening to a jesus song yesterday and the words went like this, "even when the darkness falls, lord, i will not be afraid. i know you are with me, you are with me." i thought of how there is so much darkness both literally and figuratively in this apartment, and that i need to be satisfied in the blessings and peace my god promises and provides.

in all the excitement, i've forgotten to write anything about the engagement.

yes. i am engaged.

!!!!!

it's a funny thing to sit here typing and see a diamond ring on my left finger. sometimes i don't recognize my own hands. but it's a beautiful, beautiful ring that reminds me of the wonderful relationship i get to be a part of and all the changes in my life that i get to look forward to. it also helps me remember that my life now, right in this moment, will not always be like this. it helps to remind me that the countdown of days left being the only child here at home with my parents is limited. it helps to remind me that i need to be kinder to my mother, more supportive of my father, and more peaceful of the distance between me and peter. this year or these years will slip by so quickly that i know i need to open myself up and soak it all in.

we discussed early adulthood in my human development class the other day and everyone was talking about their concerns with long-term, committed relationships. some were worried about letting people get too close to them, others were worried about experiencing the "escape" fantasy where they want to leave the person they are with and start a new life. still others were worried about "how do you know when this is the right person for you" question. as i sat there, trying to come up with something to say to contribute to the conversation, i could think of nothing. nothing besides, i've never felt that way.

now, maybe this is a bad thing. i imagine there are people who would argue that since i've never been in a serious relationship before this one, i've never experienced what it's like to get tired of someone. or perhaps they would say i was naiive and letting my heart speak instead of my head.

but i believe it is different than that. i believe that there is some greater meaning or purpose or reason for this engagement. oh we had talked about this, so i knew that i would be engaged before i started my second year of graduate school. but i had felt long ago that peter would be the person who i wanted to share my life with. i felt long ago a peace that i had never felt with anyone before, a confirmation that has proven to be one of the few stable things in my life, besides family, close friends, and my faith.

so i simply feel blessed that i don't have any escape fantasies, that i didn't have much anxiety surrounding my decision. i'm looking forward to spending more time in prayer, preparing my own heart for sharing my life with someone else.

i'm enjoying the celebration and am thankful for the congratulations and am brimming with excitement. i am so content with my life, so joyful.

sometimes i listen to pandora radio. it's fairly amazing. when i have it set to ginny owens, i often hear a nichole nordeman song called 'legacy.' it really pulls at me because of its simplicity. i think that's why i like contemporary christian music so much. it's so simple. regardless, this part of the song always gets to me and makes me think about how people really will remember me and whether or not i'm spending my time loving people and praising jesus.

I want to leave a legacy
How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love? Did I point to You enough
To make a mark on things?
I want to leave an offering
A child of mercy and grace who
blessed your name unapologetically
And leave that kind of legacy

today i did yoga on the porch in the sun. it was incredible. yoga indoors cannot compare to yoga in the sunlight. spring is such an incredible season because everything is new and hope is in the air.

today felt very long. there were spaces of my day where i felt like i should be filling it with something like studying or letter-writing or organizing, but i wasn't prepared. on the bart this morning i simply sat there staring at people. i had no book to read, no articles to examine, no stationary on which to compose love letters to friends. during my fairly miserable class that i had today, i could have studied for a stats exam that i have next week (next week!), written more letters, organized my life. then i had an hour break and i could have done something meaningful, but i didn't do anything.

unproductive. going through the motions. fairly useless.

i think spring break was a terrible idea - i rediscovered how wonderful it is to let go of every iota of stress in my body. while school doesn't actively stress me out like it did last semester, there is an underlying cord that pulls at me constantly throughout the day. it is as if i am primed for action that doesn't exist. and yet, i'm sure it should.

i am disappointed when i feel like i have not fully appreciated a day. when i have let my selfishness cloud my ability to love. to rest. to trust. to let go of the cord that keeps me tied to the ground. my days are not always like this, but these ones are reminders that going through the motions is not what Jesus had in mind.

i've been taking excessive amounts of naps during my stay here in boston. i'm not usually a napping type person, but so far i have had no trouble falling asleep at any point in the afternoon. maybe my body is fighting off a cold or i have underlying stress or something. i usually wake up from the nap feeling extremely groggy and uncomfortable, kicking myself that i slept through the afternoon.

breaks when you are a student are misleading. they tell you that you are on vacation, but really, there is no vacation. the work still looms in the background, work that i have yet to get to. i better get into gear, that's for sure. but all i want to do is nap.

so we sing from rooftops

i've finally switched over from xanga. it's like getting a haircut or moving into a new apartment. starting over. clean slate. i'm excited.

i'm in boston for my spring break visiting people i love and reminiscing about a year ago when i used to feel like i belonged in this town. it's strange how i feel like a visitor, not really comfortable to walk the streets alone even though i know my way around better than current residents. of course, life moves on regardless of whether or not i'm living here, but returning makes me mourn the days when i could claim this city as my own, knowing i was in the center of it all. now i feel forgotten and unnecessary. clumsy on the brick sidewalks, uncertain as i cross the streets. what a metaphor for my life.

in other news, i found an apartment for this summer! very exciting. it is a huge studio with big windows and is right next to a park (see photo above). it will be the first time i will be living in an apartment complex as opposed to a house-like apartment building. something to look forward to. i called the girl back right away to let her know i wanted it for sure and she kind of laughed at me for being so excited. a blessing indeed.