Five Favorites, and January 2015 Planning Pages

1. My fireplace is finally functional! I think this is my favorite favorite of all- no leaving the best for last going on here. Zeke still has some finishing touches to do- we'll be removing some more of the woodwork (sad, but that's what the insurance company requires), and putting up some great tile, but we can actually use it! And we have been. Every night this week.

2. Once upon a time, I used to take figure skating lessons. I know, I know. I was pretty terrible- I was too scared to actually do any jumps, and my balance was laughable. so spins were pretty much out of the question, but I did skate a lot in high school- I would put in about 5 hours a week at the rink. So when Zeke suggested we go, I was so excited!

Of course, I'm very out of shape and it took a while to get my "ice legs," but it was so much fun.

3. Peppermint hot chocolate in a giraffe mug. Need I say more?

We can just pretend you can't see those cords in the background, kay?

4. My super-creative mother-in-law asked Zeke if he had any old mattresses... and then turned bed springs into Christmas trees. So cute.

5. And (I didn't take a picture of it), but my door of Christmas cards is filling up. I love Christmas cards. There's something so special about getting cards in the mail, and then the glitter and pictures and joy... it's wonderful. Growing up, my folks put all the cards up along the windowsills, and I would spend at least ten minutes a day looking at them. Now that I'm older, I appreciate the little extra burst of color in my house from all the cards, and I take a couple minutes to pray for friends and family a couple times a day. Ah, Christmas cards. I just love 'em. 

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In other news, in printing out my December planning pages last month, I realized that I really jumbled the last few days of December... so I attached those days to my January 2015 daily planning pages for ya. Sorry about that!

January 2015 Daily Planning Pages

A note about printing: These pages are 8.5 x 5.5 sized, so they should fit in Martha Stewart small format binders, A5 size binders, and Classic size binders. You may need to trim a little.

You will want to print these double sided, flipping on the short end of the paper (or top-to-bottom printing). They'll look a little crazy at first (i.e. the pages don't seem like they're in order) but it should work just fine. After printing, cut the pages in half, and three-hole punch the edge you cut.

Oh, and if you're looking for monthly calendars for 2015, my calendar pages are also available as a free printable!

This post is linked up with Jenna at Call Her Happy for 5 Favorites, today. 

Investing in Littles and Being that Person for Someone

We've talked a bit about fostering relationships and community within our own families- beginning with connecting with our older relatives.

At the ripe old age of 25, I don't really consider myself an "older relative."

But to five (soon to be six!) little someones, I am just that.

You see, while in my own life I've been pretty well focused on connecting with older-than-I-am folks, multi-generational relationships don't always mean reaching up, but also leaning down.

Encouraging relationships with the littles in our lives is an important way to begin making connections multi-generationally.

Think about the wonderful relatives who invested in your life. I have an aunt who visited me regularly, brought me books for my birthday, and took me to New York when I was seven. She was a huge influence in my education, my passions... and she still is influential in my life today.

I'd like to be that person for someone.

And God gave me five (soon to be six!) someones in whom to invest. 

Go to their important events- baptisms, birthday parties, pre-school graduation. Take time to talk with them, as little as they may be- three-year-olds are hilarious. Share a little of yourself with them, whether it's a love for reading (like my aunt), or fishing, or fixing computers... inspire them to do something amazing! 

Of course, just like with older relatives, connecting with younger family members can be tricky when they're far away. 

A blogger (I don't remember who! Remind me and I'll link to them!) wrote a post about how her children received coloring pages and stickers in the mail, and the joy that brought to them. Do that! I've also marked mailing days on my calendar, and have a note with my nieces and nephews addresses in my binder so I have no excuses and don't forget. Choose something they'd enjoy. One of my nieces is four, and loves fairies and horses, so I sent her a horse coloring page. But don't over-think it. Just getting something in the mail brightens a child's day (and hey, we'll be honest, getting something other than junk in the mail brightens my day, too). 

For the tiny littles- like my nearly two-year-old nephew- I like to send a picture of Zeke and I along with the coloring page, so he connects "Auntie Adrie and Unkie Zeke" with our faces. (And it's a good excuse to get a nice picture of Zeke and myself.) 

And yes, we're busy. And yes, nurturing our family community takes time. But oh, it's so worth it.

Connecting with our Roots

I think it's so important that we, as young-ish women and young-ish wives, have role models and make connections with people who happen not to be in the exact same age bracket.

And, like many things, this starts in our own families.

Of course, that's easier said than done, especially now that families tend to be farther apart geographically. I have relatives from Pennsylvania to Colorado to Tennessee. Connecting with far-flung family is a tricky thing, and if you're not intentional about it, can easily get pushed to the back recesses of your mind.

I'm a forgetful type of person. I never remember that we have extra shoelaces in the drawer in the back bedroom. And now we have lots of extra shoelaces in the back bedroom, because I never remember and always buy more.

That forgetfulness extends to relationships, unfortunately. If I don't have someone right in front of me, I don't remember to connect with them. Thankfully, I've been blessed with a few dear friends who know that if I don't call, it's not because I don't care- it's just because I forgot.

But just because that's the way I am doesn't mean that's the way I'll always be. Putting on a new self and all. It just takes some work, some prayer, and some grace.

With family far away, I have to be very intentional in order to maintain relationships. So, as silly as it seems, I schedule it. I actually write down, on my calendar, when I'll be making phone calls, and to whom.

Connect with your roots! (Terrible pun, but just go with it.)

And if you're not sure about what to talk about?

I'll be honest, I run into dry spells in conversation, too, especially with my grandparents. I don't really have a very interesting life, and hearing about Bingo again isn't necessarily relationship-building. Don't get me wrong, just making time for one another matters quite a bit, and the Bingo stories can be pretty funny.

Sometimes I plan "I was just thinking" calls- when I call and ask a question. Usually with my grandma, I ask about a recipe. My aunt is a dental hygienist and a great shopper, so I ask her about gift ideas or any tooth-related questions. You get the idea.

Generally, when I call to ask a question, the conversation shifts into something more. If I call to ask about a casserole that freezes well, my grandma may tell me about when she made a particular recipe for a cousin of mine when she had a baby... and then we're talking about caring for those in need, the struggles of raising newborns, and how that cousin's baby is now in Kindergarten and lost a tooth the other day.

Creating community is important, but it's also vital for us to nurture the community we already have!

A Little Garden PHFR

{Pretty}

 

My marigolds are blooming! I planted them from seeds (which I've never done before) and ended up with so many weeds that I wasn't sure that I'd actually get any marigolds... but a couple weeding sessions and some time, and ta da! Pretty. 

{Happy}

Okay, so not technically garden related...

 

Due to some unseasonably cool weather this week, we've had our windows open quite a bit. If it were up to me, we'd go without air conditioning more frequently and just strategically open and close windows, but alas, the head of the household gets too warm rather easily. But having our windows open for the past few days has really been lovely. I'll take it.

{Funny}

Patience is not one of my strongest virtues. 

{Real}

My peas are not doing so hot.

The past two weeks, I've sort of forgotten that plants need water, and so... they're suffering from my neglect. Hopefully the good rain shower early this week and some extra love and care (and water) the rest of this week will help make up for it. The few peas that we've gotten have been so yummy- I'd like a lot more! 

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Links this week: 

FIGHT FAIR: PERSPECTIVE, TATER TOTS, AND TRUTH - Because learning how to fight is so essential to a marriage (and to a friendship, too.)

YOUNG MARRIAGE AND ROLE MODELS- We all need a little something to inspire us. Or a little someone.

THE HOPE TO WHICH HE HAS CALLED YOU- What Biblical hope really means, and what it means for us.


Head on over to see more Pretty, Happy, Funny, and Real stuff over at Like Mother Like Daughter!

Bumblebees, Close Calls, Dinner in the Dark... Just another Week at Camp

{Pretty}

My mother-in-law came by the other day

and brought me these. The Starbucks "vase" is a nod to the fact that we both love those things. 

I love my mother-in-law. 

{Happy}

The closest I come to sports, these days? 

Dodging campers as they fly past being chased by counselors wielding socks full of flour... or otherwise trying to avoid the gym at all costs. 

I had a couple close calls. 

But my, oh, my... they sure have fun! 

{Funny}

I think I have a bumblebee friend. I keep seeing this big fluffy bumblebee outside my office window, hanging out in the flowers. 

I know that they're not terribly easy to identify as individuals, but I'm pretty sure he's the same one. 

And I'm pretty sure that he's a he. 

{Real}

We had a big storm roll through on Monday, one that removed the roof of my co-worker's garage and pulled the roof off of the hospital and caused tons of flooding to the west and south of us. 

And it also resulted in lots of power outages in our area. 

Monday night here at Camp? 

Meatloaf by candlelight with 110 campers.

Six hours without power, but everyone safe and sound.  

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Time for some shameless plugs! 

Popular Posts this Week: 

Good Ole' Tucker Turtle has been getting lots of hits this week, especially the How to Clean Your Turtle Tank instructions. 

Living a Holy Lifestyle, based on Ephesians 4 and 5

Poetry in Motion, another Ephesians post

And of course, the Intentional Engagement posts, particularly June and Winning at Your Wedding

Links: 

I really enjoyed Haley's post about "child-free" weddings- so good-- The One Thing I Regret About My Wedding

And A Nail in the Floor by Ever Upward- a great post about finding purpose and growth, even in our imperfections and struggles.

It's Not About Being the Most Amazing by Heather- great inspiration to keep going and stop comparing!

Prayer Requests: 

We've had lots of friends and family members affected by the bad weather. Pray for safety as everyone cleans up! Also please pray for Pilger, Nebraska, who had two tornadoes ravage the town, killing a five-year-old. 

I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow to see about why we haven't been able to conceive thus far, and why I don't seem to be ovulating. Please pray for wisdom for the doctor, peace for me, and some answers to go on. 

Thank you!

This post is linked to Clan Donaldson for Theme Thursday, Amateur Nester, and Like Mother Like Daughter for PHFR.

(Last) Weekend Update

This past weekend, Zeke and I headed to Pierre, South Dakota (which is pronounced "pier," even though my third-grade teacher made it sound very French when we were studying state capitols) to visit our brand new niece. So because work has been nuts, and because the week went by soveryfast, you get to hear about it now.

And we're gonna do it Five Faves style.

Lucky, lucky you.

-1-

Well, obviously, squishy newborn-ness. Little baby Q was just so sweet and cuddly and content. Zeke and I spent some time with her and her two-and-a-half-year-old brother and gave the postpartum parents a bit of a break. Zeke's sister took and nap and his brother-in-law did some laundry, and I soaked up newborn smell while Zeke became a superhero fighting bad guys alongside our nephew and also did some hiding from "scary deer." I'm not really sure.

Also? New baby Q was 10 lbs 4 oz at birth. Can you even? She was like a five year old. Okay, not really. But still.

-2-

Zeke and I really (really really really) needed a chance to recharge and spend some time together before the summer craziness truly started. And my nerves really really really needed it. And hallelujah, even though we spent eleven hours in a car to visit family for about nine hours, it was refreshing. And good. 

-3-

We also got to stop at Cabela's in Mitchell (so the trip actually took about 3 hours longer on the way back home, but Cabela's.)

I stopped in the shoe department because I've been looking for some ballet-flat type things, but I have bad feet that need lotsa support... and I found one pair of these, on clearance, in the wrong size. 

Ahnu Karma Flat

But they seemed interesting, so I tried 'em on anyway and holy comfortable! Man. And (even though the picture I've got there doesn't really show it), they look great- and  would totally meet my summertime footwear critieria:
                 *Flat
                 *Comfortable with plenty o' arch support
                 *Has a back so my heel doesn't fall out all the time
                 *Works with a dress/skirt
                 *Not too fancy-lookin' so I can still wear 'em when, say, also wearing the most                    unattractive tie-dye ensemble (because camp).


I totally would have bought them if they were my size- but clearance and the only pair! Ugh. And online, they're more pricey than this cheap skate usually goes for shoes.

Anybody wanna buy me a pair of shoes? Or two pairs? I like the brown and the black, but wouldn't be opposed to the purple, silver sage, or tan. And I'm a size 6. Just sayin'  ; )

-4-

Okay, so maybe not so much of a favorite... more a question. I was talking to my sister-in-law this weekend (the postpartum one) and she mentioned that she'd like to have more kids, but her husband isn't so keen on the idea... and man. I so wanted to talk to her about openness to life and trusting in God's plan in everything, including family planning ... but I just held my tongue.   

What do you do in situations like that? I mean, I'd be a little cranky if someone tried to tell me how they think I should plan my family.... and it's really not my business... but we've found such peace through our choice to be open to life. Do you share? I don't know.

-5-

After our Cabela's run (see #3) that took way too long, we realized that by the time we got home, it would be 2:15 in the morning and really? I wasn't ready to go back to "real life" just yet. 

So we got a hotel room. The king-sized hotel room with whirlpool tub. Because we have a thing for whirlpool tubs. So we sat in our tub and watched TV for three hours, and it was simply glorious. 

And then we got up, went back home, and began this nutty week. And we survived it. 

I think the whirlpool tub had one heck of a lot to do with it. 

Christian Conflicts: Truth and Anger

In Ephesians, Paul gives us some guidelines about dealing with conflict in a God honoring way. We've already talked a bit about conflicts and that conflicts so often reveal our own hearts.

Our faith changes us- not because we're trying to earn salvation, but because we're grateful for salvation, putting on a new self. We're now to live a distinctly different lifestyle than we see in the culture around us- but how difficult that is!

If we're to live differently, that means that we're to deal with issues differently.

"Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members of one another. Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil. Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need. Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption." -Ephesians 4:25-30

Whew! That's a lot of practical advice from Paul. Let's talk about it.

First, we're told to speak the truth.

I'll be honest (ha! This is the right section for it, right?)- this is a problem in the Midwest. We're nice. Very nice. Because we don't tell the truth. If there's an issue, a conflict that comes up between people, we tend to ignore it rather than being authentic with one another. Avoidance is a form of lying! Avoiding an issue means that the same trouble will keep coming up, and will cause bitterness in the relationship.

After all, as Paul says, we're all members of one body. We're all "in it together"- working towards becoming like Christ and sharing his good news with everyone. Lying doesn't help anything. So when we have a conflict with someone, we need to be honest and actually tell them. Working through things may seem like quite a lot of effort, but it's worth it to not carry bitterness towards a brother or sister in Christ.

Now, it's also worth noting that telling the truth doesn't mean telling everything. We need to use our discernment. Not everyone needs to know everything. I may tell my husband the details of a conflict with a co-worker, but bringing up all the details during a staff meeting? Not necessary. There's a difference between being honest and dragging someone (or even yourself) through the dirt.

Paul also says that when we're angry, we're to stay away from sin. It isn't a sin to be angry. Anger is an emotion, often times very justified, especially if someone has harmed us. Jesus himself got angry several times in the Gospels. Anger, used correctly, can be productive.

That being said, a sin against me does not (does not!) justify a sin done by me. It's important not to let our anger get the best of us. There's a tricky balance that takes place here- between letting anger out and holding in our anger. Think about it. Pray. What's the best decision at this particular moment? I don't want to hold on to anger and cultivate bitterness in my heart, but I also don't want to say things I don't mean or explode.

My family is very different than Zeke's family. Zeke's family is reserved, quiet, generally calm and collected. They're not dramatic people. My family? Well... it's amazing we haven't been kicked out of more restaurants. We're a bit... fiery. Speaking our minds is something we do well, and (unfortunately), so is letting our tempers get the best of us.

But no matter your family history or quick tempered-nature, its been important for me to remember that when I was saved by Christ, I've been grafted onto the vine of Christ. I no longer have to grow with my family's histories or particular sins- I'm now a part of the family of Christ, first and foremost. 

This passage has so, so many implications for our lives. Let's just chew on this part for a while, and come back to it later, all right?

Sorry-Looking Menus, Impossible Expectations, and Seasons of Life

I guess I kind of had an image in my mind of what Dinners as a Married Couple would look like. It was all wholesome, creative meals with sides with fancy names like couscous, the occasional comfort-food casserole, candles and dim lighting, the sound of forks on plates and laughter, deep conversations and from-scratch and sitting at the table long after we were finished and joy and perfection.

And for a couple of meals, for a couple of months, that was true- with the exception of a couple of flavor flops, some suppers in front of the TV, and some charred food that I may have forgotten about.

This meal was really yummy- Brussels sprouts with pasta and sausage.

Then I started working full-time, and of course, working at Camp has the bonus perk that when there are campers, there's food, and when there's food, we can eat it. The meals in our household changed pretty drastically, and to be honest, I wasn't completely okay with it.

 And I avoided the issue because I was busy and overwhelmed and frankly didn't really want to go into figuring out my feelings. That's a lot of work.

But I've been reclaiming my home and my attitude the past few months, and finally dealing with those niggling annoyances and feelings that have gotten in the way of being a joyful and productive person. And yes, it's work, but I think it's an important work.

So I started actually menu planning. And the image came back- the image of how the "ideal" meal looks. And I looked at my menu, and it looked nothing like that ideal.

Monday's supper is something fast or leftovers, because we have small group at 7. Sunday, Friday, and Saturday are labeled with a big CAMP. That only leaves three suppers that could live up to my ideal... but of course we also sometimes have meals with friends or at church, or go out to eat, or Zeke comes home late and we eat my beautiful meal directly out of the pots and pans while watching a TV show.

My menu looks pretty sad, honestly. And of course, a sorry-looking menu is a problem in itself, because Dinners are Important, and it's the Role of the Wife to Create Beauty in the Home. Because we'd like to have a baby soon, I started feeling extra pressure because What If I Have Children and Still Don't Plan a Full Menu? and Practice Makes Perfect and Children Need Family Meals.

My first solution: force it! I planned lovely, healthful meals for every day of the week, telling myself that we would eat at home and we would have that candle-lit-from-scratch experience because it is my responsibility to do it. Of course, this was a recipe for guilt, being sorely overwhelmed, and not having a clean house or a cheerful attitude but-darn-it-we're-eating-a-lovely-meal-tonight-if-it-kills-me.


My second solution: just don't make a menu! But that led to weeks of Chinese take out and frozen pizza, which made me feel terrible, first because I wasn't measuring up to the image in my head by any stretch of the imagination, and secondly because weeks of Chinese take out and frozen pizza will make you feel physically terrible. It's just the way it is.


Obviously, neither of these worked.

Which left me back at square one- with a sorry-looking menu and impossible expectations.

I had to adjust my expectations. Yes, I only cook a couple of meals a week, and they're simple. We don't eat in front of a crackling fireplace with soft music playing in the background, and we don't hold hands through the entire meal. It doesn't mean that I'm any less of a woman or that I'm not fulfilling my role in the family.

Right now, in this season of life, this is the way it is. This is what's working best for us. Just because we eat away from home more often than not doesn't mean this is what will always work or what we'll always do. It's the season of life. This is reality- not the "perfection" I painted in my mind.

And now that I've embraced the reality, I can see the beauty of it. We're blessed to share a meal with 150 middle schoolers singing rowdy Bible songs on Saturday nights. Eating green beans out of a big pot while cuddling on the couch is actually kind of romantic!

And those special meals- the ones with the candlelight and the actual dining room table and laughter- those are made even more beautiful by the fact that they're not the norm in this season of life. And that's okay.

Linked up with Marriage Monday, MMandM, Titus 2 Tuesday, Wise Woman, Works for Me Wednesday, and Wedded Wednesday.

Young Marriage and Role Models

Zeke and I have been married for almost two years. I think I've learned a lot in in these two short years, and I know that I've changed for the better.

One of the biggest blessings in our marriage thus far has been the wonderful marriages we've been able to see around us. Both Zeke's parents and my parents are still married, and I know that isn't the case for many. We've also witnessed the lasting love between our grandparents (the hands on the right of the picture above are my grandparents, who have been married for sixty-eight years). We each have had great examples of strong and faithful marriages in our own families.

We've also been incredibly, incredibly blessed to have other, non-related couples pour into our lives and become role models to us.

Couples like Dennis and Sarah.

When Zeke started his job at Camp, the Director of Maintenance, and thus Zeke's boss, was a guy named Dennis. Dennis and his wife Sarah actually lived in the house where we're currently living.

Zeke started at Camp the month before we got married, so I wasn't really around, but for that first month, I heard so many stories about Dennis. About how Dennis planned this project, how he remodeled that cabin, about how he plotted the layout of bathrooms. Zeke talked about him with such admiration- and that was one of the ways I knew Camp was a good fit for us. Dennis was a great role model for Zeke, and Zeke was learning a lot from him.

After we got married and got settled in to our new little home, Dennis and Sarah threw us a dinner party and invited all the other Camp staff families. The one thing that struck me, right from the moment I met her, was that Sarah was so loved. She practically glowed with love, confidence, and joy. And it didn't take long for me to find out why.

Dennis cherished her so deeply, and she respected him unquestioningly. They were best friends. They were sappy together- Dennis only calls Sarah four things: "Cutie," "Sweetie," "My Love," and "My Bride." They hold hands while praying, every single time.

After a couple of months of living at Camp and working with Zeke, Dennis made the decision that it was time for his family to move on. We later found out that he had told the executive director that he felt he could retire now, because he knew Zeke would take good care of Camp- I could see Zeke stand taller after hearing that incredible compliment- what an honor.

About a month ago now, Sarah called me to tell me that they'd be coming for the marriage retreat that Camp hosts. I was so excited! Sarah is so much fun, and I was looking forward to seeing her again and catching up.

I told Zeke that they were coming, and after saying that he needed to "clean the shop so it looks nice for Dennis," we started talking about Dennis and Sarah's marriage. And Zeke said something I won't soon forget:

"The way Dennis treats Sarah has really impacted how I treat you." 
 
And as I thought about it, I realized that the way Sarah responds to Dennis has made a difference in my actions, too. I watched as she greeted him at lunch time- full of love, obviously glad to see him- and I try to do the same thing when Zeke gets home from work. Her trust in him, even in a time of transitioning to a new home and new time of life, is something I (rather unsuccessfully so far) am trying to emulate as well.

Zeke and I were thinking, a while back, about joining a Life Group with all young couples- couples married five years or less, most without children. I'm sure that group is great, but I'm kind of glad that we chose a different one, with a mix of young marriages and more mature marriages. Having those role models, people who have been there before and came through it, is really important for my marriage right now.

I hope that some day, my marriage will be an example to a young couple. I know that our young marriage has really been impacted, changed, and bettered, because of role models like Dennis and Sarah.

Pretty, Funny, Happy, Real

{Pretty}

Well, I may not be thrilled about the fact that it started snowing again today, but I have to admit, it is kind of pretty....

{Funny}

Early this week, Zeke and I took a couple days "off" to go up to northern Minnesota and pick up some mattresses for Camp and drop off a piano.

I'm not sure when we got the most looks- when we were driving though a snowstorm with a piano strapped on the back, or driving home with the leaning tower of mattresses.

{Happy, and Pretty, too}

When Zeke's wonderful grandmother passed away, we inherited many of her paintings. I've been storing many of them, but I dug a few of them out the other day and started finding new places for them.

They make me smile.

{Real}

Honestly, this has been a rough week. A rough week that's led me to find far too few moments of contentment. I'm dealing with some of this, while also struggling with a lot of this.

Yesterday was especially hard.

See, some circumstances beyond my control led me to a dark place where the enemy pelts me with lies.

"Zeke would be better off if he'd never met you."

"Your life is meaningless and hopeless."

"You deserve this more than she does and it's not fair - you're better than her."

 "God doesn't care about you." 

"Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places." Ephesians 6:11-12

Those lies are just that- lies. Lies told to me by the evil one. I need to cling to the Truth, hear once again of God's amazing love for me through Christ. I need the belt of truth that Paul talks about later in this passage, to center me and ground me and keep me together.

And you know what? This whole thing hurts, and I am allowed to feel that. But the way I deal with it, in light of the hope to which God has called me- that has to change. 

Linking up today with Clan Donaldson and Like Mother Like Daughter.

Grand Beginnings: The Story of Us Part II

The much-awaited Part II. Which won't make much sense if you haven't read the celebrated (cough cough) Part I. 

Zeke helped me onto the backseat of the motorcycle, laughing at my clumsiness- which I maintained was caused by my lack of coordination but probably also had something to do with  nerves and my lack of coordination. (For the record, I can now get on that backseat with no assistance). Then he got on and lifted the bike off the kickstand. I touched his sides gingerly, and then realized that I could hold on as tight as I wanted and it would be deemed completely appropriate in this situation. Well then.

About five seconds later, I was glad to be holding on tight. That bike was much more powerful than I thought. I squealed and held on tighter as he turned the corner, and tighter still when he turned the next one. He admitted to me later that he liked hearing me squeal and turned hard corners just to tease me.

Then we talked. And talked. And talked a little more. About dreams and high school and family and friends. He was deep, intelligent, caring. He’d always been so quiet, but once he started talking, he had a lot to say. He had important things to say, and I started regretting everything I’d ever thought about him. Except that he was cute and had nice eyes (I'd thought that back in high school, too). He was so much more, so much different, that I ever thought. I felt bad that I’d judged him so harshly in high school. That I’d wasted time not being friends with him.

I also felt bad that I hadn't worn waterproof mascara. All that wind in my eyes made for some pretty smeary eye-makeup... not attractive. (And that's how I learned to always wear eye gear when riding a motorcycle).

We went back to the party. I felt mellow, a little sad. The motorcycle ride had been exciting, an adventure, something that I’d never otherwise do, and I was so glad that I had gone with him. But I was sad that Zeke and I had never been friends. What made me so superficial? Aren’t unpopular kids supposed to be accepting and understanding? And why hadn’t I made friends like him in college?

I was pretty tired, and had to work in the morning, so I made my exit pretty soon after we got back. I thanked Angela, said goodbye to the birthday boy, and then waved at Zeke before leaving. I was glad that I’d gotten the chance to talk to him. Never judge a book by its cover, I thought. I’m glad I got to read a little more of your story.

I got home just as a storm was rolling in. Thunderstorms in rural Iowa are impressive to watch as they gather. All that open space makes it possible to see the lightning from miles away. Lightning has always spoken to me, reminded me of what a powerful God we have. A powerful God who looks past what people see, and into the heart of a person. I got out of my car in the driveway and sat on the trunk, watching the lighting.

I sent up a little prayer. Lord, thank you for the reminder. I could have had such an amazing friend in Zeke, but my own pride got in the way. Let me see as you see, and thanks for showing me how wrong I was. Thanks for letting me actually meet him.

I opened my eyes as I heard a motorcycle rev past my driveway, rumbling with the thunder into the distance. That must be Zeke going home, too, I thought.

But then I heard the rumble get louder again. The rumble of that motorcycle was headed back towards me. Zeke pulled into my driveway.

“Hey,” he said, “what are you doing?”

“Well,” I said, blushing again, “I’m watching the lightning.”

We talked for another two hours, until the storm got closer and it started to rain.

“I better go,” he said. “I’m gonna get wet on the way home.” He motioned towards the bike.

“Oh! Yeah. Well, I’ll see you later, I guess.” I said.

“Yeah. Have a good night,” he replied, swinging his leg over the motorcycle. He was so comfortable with that bike. He was so comfortable with everything. I blushed again and wished that I was a little more like him.

“Bye,” I said. He pulled away, the bike matching the thunder. I stood in the rain until I couldn’t hear the motorcycle anymore. Then I walked inside, feeling like something had just happened, but not knowing exactly what it was.

I now know what happened that night-  it was the beginning of something amazing.

If you wanna hear more of our super romantic stories, you can check out

THE ONE WITH THE SNOT,

or THE ONE WITH THE VOMIT,

or, if you're feeling particularly brave, THE ONE WITH THE TESTICLES.

So actually, this story is the most romantic one we've got. And the one with the fewest bodily fluids.

Grand Beginnings: The Story of Us Part I

It’s cold and snowy and I’m ready for winter to be over… but instead of complaining, and because it's almost Valentine's Day, I’m gonna be romantic. Because I’m married now and life is all romantic. Right.

 <Imagine the watery time-travel transition they use in movies>



Let me take you to a time that was, um…six and a half years ago. Or so. Something like that.


It was the summer after my freshman year in college, July 20th, to be exact. I’d come back home to small-town Iowa for the summer, and was beginning to regret my decision. I could have stayed in Chicago and worked at my school-year desk job, watching movies and doing just about whatever I wanted. No manure smell, no working at the fast food place where I spent most of my high school evenings, no obnoxious little sisters… Chicago was looking pretty good. 

That night was no exception. I was, once again, kicking myself for coming back to my tiny hometown rather than staying in the Windy City as I was getting off of my shift at the fast food place. It had been a rough night, and while fast food is notoriously pretty easy, I was sick of it. Really really sick of it. When I went to college, I thought my days at this fine greasy establishment were over. But I needed money and a summer job, and the fast food place really wanted me back, so back I went. 

Like I said, it had been a long shift. I was tired and crabby (not a terribly unusual state for that summer), and was just taking off my apron when my co-worker (whose name I completely forget! We’ll call him Jimmy) walked up to me and asked if I was going to the birthday party. I’d forgotten about the party. It was for another co-worker whose name I forget and isn’t terribly important. The important part is that this kid was having his 16th birthday party, and his girlfriend, Angela, had invited me. Angela’s a sweetheart. I’d known her in high school- she was a year under me- and we’d been pretty close back then. However, a 16-year-old’s birthday party? Really? I was soo above that, being 19 and all. And in college. It was bad enough that I was working with all these kids, but socializing with them? I didn’t think so. 

Until Jimmy told me that he was going. Jimmy was a (cough cough) older man. He was a junior in college, and was my manager. And I thought he was pretty cute. I’m not sure why anymore. The fact that I don’t actually remember his real name is probably pretty telling. Suddenly, a 16 year old’s birthday party didn’t sound quite so lame. 

“Yeah, I’m going,” I replied as I rushed out the door. Had to get home and shower to get rid of the burger smell. I convinced myself I was going to the party for Angela’s sake. She’d been such a good friend. I owed it to her, cute boy notwithstanding.

I got to the party late. Fashionably late. Too-cool-for-a-high-school-party late. I planned on going in, getting some cake, hugging Angela, then ignoring Jimmy until he decided to come flirt with me. Unfortunately, I’d arrived too late to ignore Jimmy. He’d already left. But as I surveyed the room , Jimmy suddenly and dramatically didn’t matter anymore.

Zeke, my Hunky Husband (well, at the time, just Hunky Guy… but we all knew where this was going) was there. Sitting quiet and comfortable on the couch.

Zeke’s eyes met mine. I blushed up to the roots of my hair. Smooth. Real smooth, I thought to myself.

“Hey. It’s been awhile,” he said. I couldn’t remove my tongue from the roof of my mouth.  Say something, say something! Speak, woman!

“Uh, yeah,” was my brilliant reply.

“What have you been doing?” he asked. I couldn’t feel my feet. Where were my feet? And how come I was so shy around this guy?!? I was acting like I was twelve. I hadn’t gotten butterflies or blushed like this since Kevin, my very first crush, had held my hand under the table in the lunchroom in 6th grade.

“Oh, I’m going to school in Chicago. Elementary Education.” I’m mundane and boring! Think interesting thoughts! Oh, never mind. Refocus the conversation back to him so you don’t have to talk anymore. “How about you?”

“I’m workin for my dad yet,” he said, with no signs of the internal struggle that was currently making my insides churn. “But I’m going to school this year, in Minnesota.”

Well, that was unexpected. I’d known Zeke in high school. He would cut Math class to come and visit me in Home Ec (where I unsuccessfully attempted to make a quilt. My teacher wrote on my evaluation, “Great job for your very first sewing project!”). He was on the football team, which meant that he was too cool for me. We were in Government together, too. I woke him up one time, thinking he’d been partying too hard the night before. He corrected me- he’d been running his family farm for the past week. Oh.

I’d always thought of him as just another stupid jock. A stupid jock with a nice, comfortable family farm to support him for the rest of his life. College was the last thing I expected from him. In fact, just the fact that he was talking to me again was kind of the last thing I expected. He was a football player (and a good one); I was just a nerdy girl who thrived on Speech Team. He was waaay too popular to talk to me.

But here he was, talking to me anyway. We talked for a little while longer, about college, about our high school friends, about work (he wanted to use me for my curly fry connections).  Slowly, very very slowly, my prejudices about him started to dissipate.

Angela interrupted us, asking me about how school was going, wanting to catch up. I found myself reluctant to end the conversation with Zeke. I was confused, very confused. This 6’5” man was nothing like the guys I usually liked. I liked the shorter, skinny, talkative kind, not the well-muscled, exceedingly tall, soft-spoken sort. He farmed, for heaven’s sake. I knew nothing about farming. At all. I couldn’t tell a heifer from a steer, and I don’t think I even knew what those words were at the time.

Angela and I talked for a little, but pretty soon, there was Zeke again next to me again.

“You wanna listen to some music? I have a song you’d like,” he said, and pulled out his iPod. We shared headphones and listened- all the while, I was very aware of the fact that we were acting like a high-school couple. Like I acted with some other guy a year before. But that other guy did not smell this good.

Stop smelling him! I ordered myself. This is NUTS.  I don’t remember anything about the song we listened to. I wasn’t paying any attention. Zeke’s shoulders looked way too nice. Like I could just lay my head down right there….

“So, when are you leaving for school?” He obviously didn’t realize that he was interrupting my shoulder-lust.

“Oh, um, August. August 15. I have to go back early because I’m going to be an RA.”

“Oh, okay. I’m actually going up to Sturgis a week before that.”

From some dark corner in my brain, I retrieved any knowledge I’d ever gained about this “Sturgis.” Sturgis, Motorcycle Rally. I’m still very impressed that I figured that one out.

“You have a motorcycle?” I asked.

“Yeah. It’s right outside,” he said. “I rode it here.”

“Really? I’ve never been on a motorcycle. You should take me for a ride sometime.” What is this? Now I’m flirting with him?! What is WRONG with me? And I don’t want to go on a motorcycle!!! They’re fast! They have no seat belts, they’re dangerous….

“Well, you want to go now? I just have to take some of my stuff off the back…”

Crap. Now I was stuck. Tried to act all cool and tough and adventurous, and it totally backfired. Who knew that he would actually offer? Now what?

“Uh, okay.” I’d sealed my doom, I was sure of it. He left to take stuff off the back. I’d later learn that this “stuff” is called a T-bag. But at the time, I don’t think I would have cared. I was too nervous, there was too much dread deep in my core. Me, on a motorcycle?? No way.

My parents forebode trampoline-jumping. I was not the motorcycle type. I’d probably have to confess to my mom that I rode a motorcycle. Like I did the first time I went on a trampoline… when I was 18.

Zeke walked back into the room, which I was just noticing was becoming more and more empty. People were leaving the party, and I was still there. I had planned on leaving early… but oh well.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Sure.” I gulped.

I barely trusted my legs as I followed him outside, where the motorcycle sat waiting. Well, here goes nothing.

This is getting long. We'll do part two soon! (The anticipation is killing you, I know. Don't fall off the edge of your seats, now).