Thanks Be...

Every year at Thanksgiving, I wonder, for those who don't have a personal relationship with Christ, to whom/what do they give thanks?

And this year I wonder the same.  I don't think anyone anywhere would say they aren't thankful for something.  Thus, the question is begged... can you be truly thankful if there is no recipient for your thanksgiving?  They might be thankful for family, friends, food, shelter, bacon... but it loses their meaning if their thanks simply goes out into the great unknown; spoken words that die the moment they leave their mouths.

For me, when I give thanks both now and throughout the year, my thanksgiving is directed to the Giver of all gifts-- my God and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Without Him, life (including whatever thanks I might give) has no meaning.

So on this Thanksgiving Day, I sit on my parents' couch in my pajamas (still), post-parade, watching Miracle on 34th Street.  I'm browsing online for some Christmas shopping, and I'm counting my blessings.

Thanks be to the Lord.

And now it's time for a picture post!  Enjoy some photos from two of my bridal showers here in Chicago! :)

My cousins and me, minus Carolyn and Emily.

I received so many lovely handmade gifts-- like this afghan (Grandma) and cross-stich (Aunt Marge)

We <3 each other :)

Look at my fun shower surprise: one of my bridesmaids and best friends came in from Texas!!!

And yes, we went to a graveyard.  Whatev.

 

 A lovely montage by Kelly Johnson at Duna Photography!

 Looks like I'm laughing at my own private joke.  HAHAHA

 Mom made us a Chevron quilt!

 

 The flower girl and me, with the bow bouquet!

 

 HTB, whispering something sarcastic, to be sure. (photo by Kelly Johnson)

 

 My reaction... HAHAHA (photo by Kelly Johnson)

 YAY, we're getting married! :) (photo by Kelly Johnson)

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!!

Anticipation...

ANTICIPATION: how I both love and hate this concept.

I love anticipation because of that feeling I get on Christmas Eve.  You know those little exciting flutters in your belly that let you know that something really special/fun/happy is coming?  I think I still love Christmas Eve more than Christmas Day for that very reason.  Each year I stand in my parents' foyer, the multicolored twinkle lights on the towering tree behind me, Bing or Nat crooning around me, and I pull back the lace curtains.  I peek out at the snow (hopefully) falling softly and my brother faithfully lighting the lumenaria in the little paper bags down our driveway.  I smile and feel a sense of warm anticipation about the special day that will come in the morning. 

When I was a small child, my parents couldn't even tell me when exactly Christmas was because I'd keep myself awake every night with that same anticipation.

Call me weird (it's OK, go ahead-- I know you do anyway), but I even get that feeling about walking into bookstores or libraries.  I anticipate all the new information I'll find and the worlds that will be opened up to me, and oh, do those butterflies abound!

But then, I hate anticipation.  I went to my first "Howl-O-Scream" at Busch Gardens with HTB on our one-year dating anniversary (because nothing's more romantic than being chased by zombies through haunted houses, right?).  I wasn't actually scared in any of those haunted houses, no matter how grotesque or gruesome they were.  Sure I screamed when they jumped out at me, because who doesn't scream when that happens?  But what gave me sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach was the anticipation of the unknown.  What would they do to me?  What would it be like?  When will they pop out at me?  Will I actually die in this haunted house?  What if HTB makes me go first?  I hated that anticipation.  It ate at me as we waited in line for the first house, and a creepy "vampire" tried to chit chat with me about the scarf around my neck.  I nervously played along, but really I just wanted to not anticipate the unknown anymore.  Turns out it was all fun, but I didn't know it would be.

This is also why, when playing hide-and-go-seek as a child, I'd walk into a dark room and shout, "Don't jump out at me!" because I hated the anticipation of the unknown-- just knowing I was going to be scared, but not knowing when or how or by whom.

And if one event has ever given me more reason to both love and hate anticipation, it's this engagement time.  I just love anticipating all the fun stuff.  I get that Christmas Eve feeling about my wedding showers, and setting up my little apartment as our tiny "love nest," and thinking about the fun of the actual wedding day itself.  I have those giddy butterflies thinking about being married and being a wife to HTB, and making a life together.  Having children and living our days out together are all things that give me those warm fuzzy anticipatory feelings...

Until I start to anticipate the unknown: the fights, the hard times, the hard work it will take to stay best friends for the rest of our lives, the unknown challenges, the physical ailments, the things that could go wrong on our wedding day, financial worries...

This anticipation thing is so weird.  How can I both love and hate the feeling?  I guess the anticipation I love is when I'm anticipating something familiar, something I know to be good from either personal experience or word-of-mouth.  And I suppose the anticipation I hate is when I'm anticipating something unknown-- something I either fear or have heard negative things about from others.  I guess what I'm getting at is that I need to remember familiar, good things I know will come with the wedding and marriage, and not sweat the unknown, because it's just that: unknown.  Who's to say my experiences will be anything like those around me?  And knowing my God, I do know for sure that it will be good, because God created marriage, and marriage itself is good.

Now in the meantime, I do need to guard myself against a common mistake I made as a child.  I let the anticipation of Christmas Eve grow to such an extent that when Christmas came and went, I was left with the day-after-Christmas-blues.  After such great anticipation, there is nothing left to anticipate and therefore an emptiness where those fun butterflies used to be.  I don't want the let-down of December 26th (for those of us who don't celebrate Boxing Day) on January 13th... or any other day thereafter.  I hope I always anticipate the rest of my life with the best kind of anticipation, and that every new year brings the butterflies that indicate something very special/fun/happy is coming.  Though it may be unknown, it will be good.  Why?  Because I have God's Word on that, and I have HTB by my side.

Playing Dress-Up...

Here's one clue I've met my match: we both really enjoy an excuse to be someone else for a little bit.  Sometimes we get that privilege at a youth group theme night.  Other times, it's Halloween.

So yesterday night we met up with the group (now a quadruple date, really) at the Applebee's.  Mike was Dean Winchester (if you haven't seen "Supernatural," you really should.), and I was some kind of 80s jazzerciser, which morphed into being Olivia Newton-John.

The best was when HTB's mom watched me apply blue eyeshadow and tease my side pony and gingerly and tactfully asked, "Do you have plans tonight?"  "No," I replied, "I just like to dress like this on Sunday nights."

And it was so fun.  Nevermind that the rest of the group (save the Libertarian and the "celebrity" attempts by the besties... not bad ladies, for last minute :) ) didn't join us in our Halloween extravagance.  So here's to a forever with my HTB-- and partner-in-let's-play-dress-up-for-Halloweeen crime. :)

Fail Blog...

I'm a failure.

Yeah, you read that right.  I had a mini-meltdown (let's just say it's not the only one I've had during this wedding-planning season) on Sunday night and realized it's because when push comes to shove, I'm a failure.

I felt like I was just existing, that I wasn't doing anything excellently anymore.  Let me give you some background:

If you scroll through to my much-earlier posts, you'd see what my life was like as a single woman.  I kept an immaculate house, because I had time to clean it thoroughly every week.  I baked cupcakes like nobody's business, and made delicious meals from scratch, just because I had the time.  I blogged regularly, because not only did I have the time to blog, but I had the time to examine life and think about what would be blog-worthy.  I didn't gain weight for two years after I lost it because I could be picky about what I ate, since I was only feeding myself.

And then I entered into a relationship.  Don't get me wrong-- I wouldn't change a thing.  I would never want to live without HTB again.  But I look at myself now and see this:

A woman whose house is a mess because she doesn't have time to clean it, plan for a wedding, go to work, meet with friends, and spend time with her fiance.  She is gaining weight because she stress eats and now cooks for a burly man.  She never bakes because why tempt herself, and plus, who has the time?  She rarely, if ever writes in her journal, let alone blogs, though this is one of the most precious times of her life.  The reason: lack of time.

I confessed to HTB that I was afraid I wouldn't be a good wife because I can't juggle life like a good wife can.  I know how to juggle life like a single woman, but not a fiancee or a wife.  And because I'm so overwhelmed, I've simply been walking a tightrope, singly concentrated on my one step after the other, praying I won't fall.  And I feel like I'm missing life around me, and I can't see the forest for the trees.  I'm not doing anything well anymore; I'm just existing.

It was then that HTB reminded me that I am not the girl I was a year ago.  A year ago, I was not ready to be a wife.  Even though I pridefully thought to myself, I'd be a wife like a boss!  Look at me-- cooking, cleaning, baking, writing-- I'd be freaking awesome at homemaking, I wasn't ready for that-- not emotionally or spiritually.  I wasn't ready to depend on another person or put his needs above my own.  While other things have fallen out of place, God has been readying my heart.

And the truth is, I am a failure.  But God knows that and can use me anyway.  I can't do everything by myself.  I absolutely, without a doubt need Him and His strength to help me juggle everything life's throwing at me at this point.

In the next two and a half months, I need to:
Get premarital counseling
Sort through and pack up tons of stuff I need to get rid of
Sort through and pack up HTB's stuff
Have a garage sale
Paint and set up my apartment as a home for HTB and me
Finish wedding stuff (that's a whole other list)
Help Bestie move across the state
Visit Chicago twice for the holidays
Buy Christmas presents
Lose 13 pounds
Have a Christmas youth group party
Bake Christmas cookie gifts
Keep up at school
All while still maintaining my time in the Word, spending time with HTB, spending time with friends, teaching at discipleship, keeping a clean house, cooking meals, keeping a handle on finances.

Oh, is that all?  Yet I know there are homemakers out there with lists ten times as long as mine.  Still, it's a lot to juggle, and I am failing at it.  Yet when I am weak, then He is strong.

Over Three Months Ago Feels Like Over the Rainbow...

For shame.  For a dirty, dirty shame.  To think that I have neglected my once dear friend Blogger for over three whole months!  What have I been doing, you may ask?  Oh, nothing... just a little bit of Israel, Chicago, wedding planning, Mom visits, curriculum planning, and house hunting.

And I think there are some lessons I'm learning, too.  At school, I seem to be learning that I am truly a broken vessel.  I'm handmade, but easily broken and quite fragile.  And the funny thing is, God somehow puts those broken pieces together and makes something useful out of something worthless.  He uses this broken vessel to fulfill his purposes, in some miraculous way.  See, I was pretty burnt out after last year.  And yet I received an email from a random student who needed help and prayer.  And they turned to me.  Not because of anything I had done, certainly, but definitely because of what God had done through me somehow, without my knowledge.  Amazing how God can even use broken things.  It makes me think of 1 Corinthians, when we're told that God chooses the foolish things of this world to shame the wise, etc., so that no one can boast before God.

Consider me humbled.  For now.  I'm sure I'll have to learn this again.

And as HTB and I make our way backwards through the Psalms as a countdown to our wedding, I have discovered another lesson God is trying to teach me.  I found myself in tears several times lately because of the stress of the following things:

1.  house hunting: should we buy now?  Should we buy a starter house?  What if we miss the buyer's window and it starts going up again?  Should we rent?  How much can we afford?  Can we commit to a 30 year mortgage?  How big should it be?  Should we get a fixer-upper?
2.  wedding planning: why is everything so freaking expensive?  When will I have time to plan this?  Will everything come together?  What if I forget something?  Will it be pretty?  Will people have a good time?
3.  debt paying/budget planning: how long before we're debt-free?  Will we have enough money to save and pay off debts?  Will we have enough money period?  How will we ever afford to have kids?  How can we make more money and still stay sane?
4.  thinking about kids: when should we plan to have them?  What if I'm too old when that happens?  What if we can't afford it?  Should we wait until we're debt-free?

This is a lot to think about.  Yet as we read backwards through the Psalms, there are two recurring themes: Praise the Lord, and God can be trusted to meet our needs.  I think the two must go hand-in-hand.  You do one, you naturally do the other.  So my goal is to keep handing all those worries over to God, who certainly knows about them and has a perfect plan, and that includes meeting our needs.  And in the process, I am trying to Praise the Lord in all things. 

That's a little hard when I'm really tired at 6 a.m. or I get a bill from the doctor, but there is simply no other choice.  If we as people failed to praise the Lord, the rocks themselves would cry out in praise.  So, with the hopes of avoiding creepy singing rocks, I will praise.

Here's hoping I'm back on the blogging wagon. :)