The reasons we aren't married at 35 - Part 2

Idle Tears by Edward Robert Hughes (English, 1851–1914)

At the same time, blessing of blessings, He also gave me a man.  Oh, such a man.  A man I would never be worthy of in a million years.  A man full of intellect, and wit, and kindness, and sweetness, and gentleness.  And so handsome and pleasant to look at, and strong times a million.  But a sinner like me...we are so much alike!  We have both light and darkness and are aware.

And now these same things bite at my heels.  From years of changing, years of fear and wanting, longing and sins.  Years of war in my heart.  I am laid waste in many ways, while Jesus builds me up.  I wish I had more to offer him than a 35 year old heart which has been torn to shreds in every direction.  I am angry.  I felt like I had so much to give at the tender ages...18, 19, 20...before anger set in.  Before my parents divorced.  Before I was taken up by so many things.

But Jesus said I am His girl.

Do I trust Jesus with my soul but not my heart?
Can Jesus pull me out of Utah and folly and depression, but not pull me into Chris' arms?  My struggles to come to Jesus and my struggle to come relax into love are so similar.

I feel fully confident in my new-ish relationship.  I absolutely feel that it is meet and right.  It is blessed.  Even heaven-favored, but that's a separate story.  The story of me becoming a Catholic is intricately woven of late into the life of this wonderful man.  Jesus is speaking to me through him, my Christ-Bearer, sanctifying me and giving me hard won graces from His own heart.  He is changing me.

Fairy tales always seem like tragedies if you stop in the middle of the story.
Think about that for a minute.

Being in this amazing love story sometimes feels like being taken to the gym.  It's an awesome place with amenities: a pool and and sauna and free towels.  But you are there to work.  And the work makes you look awesome and feel amazing and be your very best you.  But some days you just wanna sit on the couch and eat Doritos and watch X-Files.

But we are better than that.  Jesus is better than that.  My relationship is better than that.

If I didn't have years of utter baggage behind me, maybe I'd be married by now.
If I had not been so terribly hurt by church, maybe I'd be Catholic by now. (Or Orthodox, or Lutheran, or Southern Baptist, or Presbyterian).
If I had only had a good relationship with a dad, maybe I'd have kids by now.
All of these things make the years seem so empty; such a painful waste.

But we can't live our lives in maybe, just like we can't live our lives in someday.
This is our time. It really is.  It's what we've been given, and what we have.  It's our gift from God.  It's our gift to God.  I'm getting a little better at it, very slowly, about trusting my Jesus with all those somedays and maybes.  I just want Him.

And I want him.  The best him I've known.  I'm a huge fan.  I'm so excited for my life with him.  I'm so excited about where Jesus is taking us, and how we will figure out the details.  It's so good.  Now to just get to that gym every day and not skip #legday.

Seriously though, y'all.  So in love.  We are babies in love, but oh...sweetness!  Kindness and hope are chasing me round.  Hold tight to me, my good sir.

The reasons we aren't married at 35 - Part 1

Nikiphoros Lytras

The Waiting

c.1895

This post is gonna be really honest.  Soul-baring, perhaps.  Maybe I won't post it.  Maybe I'll delete it later.  Who knows.

This past week I turned 35.  I can barely bring myself to type that number.  Part of living in our youth-obsessed culture is shame at being a relatively young "old" age.  Youth is the goal, and pretending to be young is the way we do it.  Memes about forever being cat ladies, eating pizza under a blanket on a Friday night, or dressing up like 19 year olds in mini-skirts and going to clubs at age 40.  Things like that.

We find molds and try our hardest to stuff ourselves into them.
"I'm a poor college student."
"I'm a tired mom."
"I'm a gamer."
"I'm a church girl."

Or, for me, "I'm an actress."

Or more accurately - "I'm an actress, I don't have commitments.  I am young and free.  I won't commit to anything because it makes me freer. So my life is a blank canvas.  I kinda want to belong to a church but am not sure which one so I just visit and float around between them.  I can argue various theological positions and I go with what feels right at the time.  Whatever guy I'm dating at the time is my world.  And when he breaks up with me, or I get sick of him, I recreate my entire world.  I am really nothing except whatever chameleon shade I morph into."

But who am I, really?  Who was I?  Who am I being to become?

I recently left one life for another.
I had morphed into someone that I didn't like.  I was chasing good dreams, but in the wrong way.  I was so depressed and trapped in my own pain and fear that I didn't know how to get away from it.  I drowned myself in my own tears for trying to swim out.  Then, a hand through the pitch black, Jesus himself pulled me out and we started over.  But this time, it was different.

He basically told me that I was His girl, and no more dating.  It was now or never.  We marry...or I was free to not marry Him.  But He told me I'd be so happy with Him and He'd take good care of me and always feed and protect and comfort me.  And LOVE me.  Love me fruitfully.  He never loves anyone without fruit.

So we got engaged.  I started letting Him court me.  Kicking and screaming and full of young loves' tears at times, I let Him love me.  I'd cry when I saw other married couples sharing physical communion, because I had to wait.  And I still wait.  And I still long.  It's so hard seeing people who aren't aware or appreciative of their marriages being able to share each other...while I wait for the okay to share in my Jesus.  But I'm waiting.  And someday soon I'll have my first Confession, Confirmation and First Holy Communion.  My wedding, so to speak.  To Him...I'm already His but I'm waiting.  It seems like forever.

I'm His girl.

He remade me into yet another version of myself, but without a silly man at the center.  HE is at the center.  He is my world, my King, my Love.  I get really really mad at Him sometimes for making me wait and for some of the deputy decisions made by his earthly court.  But I'm HIS, y'all.  Forever.  I don't get to remake myself anymore.  He reminded me that the core parts of me won't change because He put them there.  The virtues He has given me are who I am.  I just have to practice them.

So this is who I am.  I'm so glad to know it, and it won't change.  My church is solid and ready to welcome me.  I'm just waiting like a patient bride.

Future Husbands, Pray for Us!

I just finished reading a silly, fairy tale children's book, and it made me long for him.
Him...whoever he is, if he exists. And if I'm not over romanticizing him. (Which I very well may be, but I'm so jaded in every other aspect of romance that I feel I can allow myself a few silly minutes to dream about his good qualities).

To my future husband:
I freaking miss you. I'm lonely for you. There is nothing more I want right now than to cuddle up into your arms and make you so glad you married me. (I am talking about marriage here...so you can interject any naughty images that brings up, if you want. No shame in it.)
I don't feel like this a lot, and I know it's not unique to just me to feel this way. But right now, I am praying for you. I hope you are praying for me. I could sure use it!

Please pray that I'm strong, that I don't lose hope, that I keep myself pure for you.
Pray that I see a broad picture of the future and don't only focus on myself.
Pray that I will be patient.
Pray that I'll do you good now, even before I know who you are.
Pray for our marriage...that we will be prepared for a wild, difficult ride that will ultimately glorify God.
Pray that I won't be too depressed and let myself become more negative and cynical.
Pray that I'll glorify God now, and not just dream about tomorrow.


I am not always the best future wife, but right now I really want to be.



April 25th, 2009

Lustre

By a crisp December morning
We'll harvest these seeds of love - sown in May
With prayers and tears, and hours on knees
And darkness unfled, nothing unspilled.

You've poured your love on me
Only mixed with breath - Untempered by touch
In prayers collected by a Spring wind
In the mirror of the thoughts of God.

Come with me, love-drunk on a dream!
Run aground this airy flight
And talk of every nothing we can spin
Unrepentant future, unspent.

The night buds have burst
Their scent drowning time like wine
Bashful darkness hides her head in shame
We will shine on till morning.


Oct. 11, 2009

Burn

If God wants a fire,
If He wants to set my heart on fire,
To give light and warmth

I will walk through fiery trials to get there.

And nothing burns better than the bitter, dried up wood that my heart used to be.



June 23rd, 2009

I'll have warmth to give you

I'll have warmth to give you
In a short time I'll
Press my face to the Glass
not just fog with breath
rest with me
share this space for one
Two is half too many
it must be One
for the spark of formerly lonely nights.

October 4th, 2009

Every 3rd Day - an Intro to Fire Life

I am the babbiest of babies in the "Fire Life".  So I know if some awesome senior fire department wife finds this blog and reads it, she'll probably laugh and roll her eyes.  If she's Southern, she might say "Bless her heart".  And that's okay.  I hope to do that too, someday.

Today I'm feeling it keenly - the one day on, two days off schedule.  Don't get me wrong, it's a great system.  It works.  I'm really grateful for it.  It is a tremendous blessing to me right now.  I don't think I could date someone who had a regular 9-5 job.  I am working 3 jobs, which is the equivalent of a full time job.  It's a juggling act!  My whole life I've battled laziness and irresponsibility.  I was a blanket burrito throughout most of college, depressed during my 20s, etc.  I did a lot of things well, but I'd give up sometimes.  Take on less than I could.  Build in escapes.  Undersell myself.  I've always been content with someone taking care of me.

Not that I don't want to be taken care of!  But in my 30s, I figured I'd messed around enough and that it was time to get serious about my life.  I've always been intensely serious inwardly, with ideas and beliefs and desires.  But I couldn't quite make that translate to the bravery required to work really hard for a really long time.  Well, here I am, world.  I am teaching 54 voice students a week, teaching a class at the gym, and singing professionally at a church.  I'm about to take on opera rehearsals.  Put on top of all that my conversion to the Roman Catholic faith.  It's a busy and beautiful life!

Enter Mr. Wonderful.  The Mister of my life.  A hunk of a man who came out of nowhere and swept me off my feet.  He is gentle, kind, strong, talented, smart as the dickens, musical, verbal, sciency, and loves Jesus.  I don't want to live my life without him.  I love him.

And he's a firefighter.

Which means 33% of his life is lived at the fire station.  The other 2/3rds is very free.  Like anything, it has pros and cons.  On the pro side, I am free to be an introvert and have my precious alone time.  This is a need for me.  I get snippy, anxious, and tired when I am around people too much.  I have time to scheme and plan and be independent a bit.  Also, on his two days off, he can come see me at odd hours (lunch break) or all day if he wants.  Super cool.

The con side I am feeling right now.  Christopher is at the fire station, and I am home in bed.  I feel ill, like I might be coming down with something.  I'm not advocating that he should drop everything and come sit with me, at all.  But it's hard to converse with him even on the phone between calls.  It's spotty, and good.  I'm so grateful for it.  Absence DOES make the heart grow fonder.  I'm spending time with Jesus in prayer, relying on Him.  It's good.  But I miss Christopher.

Actually...bottom line, I WANT to become an expert on this way of scheduling my life.  I'm excited about my life.  I'm excited about growing closer to my boyfriend and becoming great at communicating through these unique challenges.  Weird to talk so assuredly with 'just dating'?  Maybe.  I don't care.  I'm done with my 20's style underselling myself and building in escapes.  I'm gonna do this.  Even when I feel like poop, like right now.  Because he's out there, through the night watches, fighting for me.  And for you.

That's what love does.  We aren't alone.  Not even on station days.

Betweenpie

My own heart let me more have pity on; let
Me live to my sad self hereafter kind,
Charitable; not live this tormented mind
With this tormented mind tormenting yet.
I cast for comfort I can no more get
By groping round my comfortless, than blind
Eyes in their dark can day or thirst can find
Thirst's all-in-all in all a world of wet.

Soul, self; come, poor Jackself, I do advise
You, jaded, let be; call off thoughts awhile
Elsewhere; leave comfort root-room; let joy size
At God knows when to God knows what; whose smile
's not wrung, see you; unforeseen times rather — as skies
Betweenpie mountains — lights a lovely mile.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

There is a stretch of jaw

leading down to the crease of your neck

Where my nose can nuzzle into my future

All the thoughts that pile up and day over day spill

into your waiting arms, into that exquisite patch of rough, manly stubble.

and planting a kiss

I unplant my fears

toss them into the grey sky

So an October wind blows them far away, into the Advent

of the coming of the Bridegroom

And salty, dewy, delicious skin

I am allowed for a moment or two

Where I might safely giggle, or dream, or want, or long

But always be loved.

Press me there, may I tell my whimsy to your throat

Kiss me at least a hundred more times

Let my lips flit upon yours 

Let me be Home, just a moment more!

Let my hairs stay snagged on you somehow

Let me live on long after I've gone

Let me find you tomorrow 

Hungrier than today, but satisfied

Knowing each day I will come to you with myself

With an offering of the best of me, as the Lord wills it

He made my nose cold

And your skin rough

..and mine soft...

We shall know Him in our lacking, 

in our longing

And in our loving.

Come, holy friend.

You on the nightwatch

Me in my bed, asleep.

You pay me compliment just by being. 

Let me love you, scratchy as you are.

I will nuzzle you on the morrow.

And a million times onward. 

Stella Maris

And shall I whisper to the sea?
It tells me a never-ending story of you.

How you bore all my hopes and fears together
Saying "this mulberry tree shall be cast into the sea".
And flung far away, like a message in a bottle
Upon waves which reached exotic lands.
Moonlight began her vigil
The travails of this night set themselves upon us.

Undulating --
Dying in the throes upon craggy rocks
And quiet resignation upon sandy shores
Washed pale and helpless, choking in unfamiliar air.
How the demons of night were matchless
For a matched set of two mustard seeds.

And starting again with each new breath
Hoping with each beat of your heart
And the stars are my witness
Your true heart finds North
And the sea bears us far away
Under a Mantle of sky
Where night is our bounty
Starlight bathing us in crisp memory
Of our first night in the Sea.

Take my hand, and we shall sail onward.
To that land where promise meets us
You, my captain and my confidant.
I, thy dear handmaid.  Thy bidding is sweet.
On this Barque we have started.
And Mother sings us home,
A string of roses binds our hands and hearts
to an Unbound home in a new free land.