Classic V-Day...

Yesterday was not my first Valentine's Day.  And yet, it was my first Valentine's Day.  Know what I'm saying?  It was the first year I'd ever actually had an honest-to-goodness valentine.  I have always loved the day, for whatever reason.  Don't lecture me about Hallmark-- I know, I know.  I know it's all ridiculous, but I love it.  I don't think I love it for its romance though; I might love it more for the pink and purple hearts everywhere. 

But this year I got to experience the quintessential Valentine's Day.  I'm the kind of girl who would be happy pulling on sweats, making grilled cheese, and popping in a new movie on Valentine's Day, but BF likes to pamper me.  It began on Sunday.  I had ruined his plan because I decided to have a five-day fever that meant I might or might not be at work on Monday.  So just in case, he brought over my first gifts that were intended for my desk Monday morning: a dozen long-stemmed red roses and a box of candy (let's get this straight: not waxy chocolate bon-bons with finger indentations to see if it's a toffee or a nasty eggnog cream... Lindt Lindor truffles, only the best chocolate ever).  As classic as hot dogs at a Sox game, evergreens on Christmas, and Lady Gaga having some sort of weird relationship with a food product/animal/shape/color.

Then on V-Day itself, he stopped in on my free period at work and brought me a teddy bear.  Not just any teddy bear, a Vermont teddy bear resplendent in Captain James T. Kirk's uniform.  That's right.  I don't know if you know this, but BF is a Trekkie (but a cute one, not a creepy one).  I loved it.  So... while a teddy bear is classic Valentine's Day, his garb is decidedly... "us."  After work, he came by my place and gave me one more gift: a framed DIY ancient-looking print of my favorite Psalm, in Hebrew.  That's right folks: DIY.  It was shocked and awed, in the best possible way.  He then informed me that we were getting high-class carry out, and he proceded to pull a tablecloth, placemats, and candles from his backpack.  This was BF's version of "cooking" for me; what girl doesn't love that?

As if that wasn't wonderful enough, he then cut up strawberries and put together little strawberry shortcake dessert, paired perfectly with our sparkling white grape juice.  We finished our evening of classic V-Day activities by heading to the beach.  Surprisingly, we were alone; two cold masses huddled in the sand, staring up at the impossibly bright moon and stars.  I flung sand in his face unintentionally and later crunched sand in my teeth, but that's the price one pays for romance, isn't it?

And thus was my very first Valentine's Day.  It didn't disappoint.  But as I wrote, even grilled cheese and my sweats wouldn't disappoint, as long as I was with my valentine.

A Very Big "First"...

I have a confession to make.  Over the last few weeks, I have experienced many "firsts."  But I haven't blogged about any of them, as much as I wanted to, because nothing was official.  But now it is.  So here's my list of firsts:

First second date
First time I didn't run from a guy who showed interest
First DTR that ended with a smile
First boyfriend

What?! you shout, What is this about a boyfriend?!  Would you like to know how this happened?  Good, I'll tell you, but only the condensed version.  I did not meet him online.  I did not meet him at the grocery store.  I did not meet him through a mutual friend.  It turns out, he was under my nose the whole time.  Or, as Bestie Jr. put it (here edited for content... hahaha), "He was under your nose like the stache under his nose."  Bestie's husband likes to rub in the fact that long ago, he told me I would find someone right under my nose, but I told him he was wrong.  And I believed it.  Turns out, I was wrong (Get your fill of those words now, Bestie's husband, because I won't say them very often-- not to you anyway).

It turns out that I was friends with a great guy, and that over the past few years I've had the opportunity to serve with him in ministry and get to know his character and laugh at his insanity.  Apparently, we were on each other's radar for basically as long as we've known each other.  Which to me, is really funny.  Who knew?  Certainly not me.

I don't really know how it happened, it just did.  At some point we started facebook bantering, which some people claim was flirting and I claim it was NOT.  At least not at first, anyway.  Regardless, it was fun.  And then I think I texted him (I know, can you believe it?)-- but only to make fun of his mustache.  Maybe it was the stache that brought us together because then we started texting often, then every night, then all day every day.  And then he asked me out and we began dating on the sly, until we made it "official" on Sunday night.  It's real now, but only because facebook says it is... just kidding.

Let me just say that through this whole process, I have wanted to blog so badly.  I have had to learn so many lessons I never expected to learn.  I thought I had a handle on this whole "trusting God" thing.  Turns out I was so wrong.  But I'll get into that another time.  I'll get into my struggle with fear and trust and all of those goodies that I've never experienced in this way before.

So now begins an adventure.  I have never done this before, ever.  I will make a lot of mistakes.  I have no idea what to expect.  I know I will fight my own fears again and again.  But I'm excited.  I'm still a little shocked that this is happening-- and that the Lord has answered prayers I've had for a long time.  I always wanted a relationship that grew from friendship.  Check.  I always wanted a relationship with someone with whom I served in ministry.  Check.  I always wanted a relationship with someone who loved the Lord more than anything else.  Check.  I always wanted a relationship with someone who could make me laugh a lot.  Check.  Actually, I could check off a lot of things on my checklist.

What encourages me more than anything is the fact that I know I didn't seek this out.  The Lord brought us together somehow, and whatever he has for us will be good for us and glorifying for Him.  I'll keep you posted... because even if I'm no longer single, I still have single girl issues that will be working themselves out in this relationship.  Fortunately, BF (henceforth he will be called) is patient with me.  Which is another thing on my checklist.  Check.

Ah, the Innocence of... a Twentysomething...

I took one of my classes outside today to enjoy the fantastic cool weather.  I started swinging.  Students started arguing about lip gloss.

"Miss Hardt, have you ever talked to your boyfriend about lipstick?"
"I've never had a boyfriend"
".....What?  Miss Hardt!  You've never had a boyfriend?"
"Nope.  But I don't mind."
She touched her finger to her lip.  "So you've never been kissed?"
I smiled.  "Nope.  But that's okay.  Someday I will"
She looked troubled and I felt I had to assure her that I was alright, and this was not a bad thing.  "Really, I'm just picky.  For me, the point of dating is to see if I would ever marry that person, so I don't go out with guys who wouldn't make the cut."
"But Miss Hardt!  Have you ever been asked out?!"
I kind of laughed.  "Yeah a couple times, but I said no.  Someday it will happen, it just hasn't yet.  I'm not worried.  Besides, the way I see it, once I get into a relationship I'll have a lot less emotional baggage to deal with.  I know it's unusual, but I think it's smart."
"Yeah, I can see your point... Miss Hardt, you remind me of a little girl."

I laughed inwardly and thought, good.  I'm glad I'm different from their worldly ideas of what a 26 year-old woman would be.  I'm glad I've surprised them.  I'm glad I gave them something to think about.  I'm glad they see me as one with childlike innocence.

It's a strange feeling, knowing that in many ways you're more innocent than your students who are nearly half your age.  Sure I've got years, experience, and wisdom on them, but in many ways they have worldly experience I haven't had.  And I'm not jealous of that.  I'll savor the fact that I'm not worldly, and thank God for the ways he's protected me.  This is not the first time I've been surprised by my students' worldliness this week.  Earlier there were girls in my classroom talking about a boy:

"I think he's a virgin!" One whispered, as if this were as surprising as saying, "I think he's an alien!"
I smiled from my seat at the computer and spoke without looking at them.  "You know, there's nothing wrong with that.  It's a good thing, you know?  Self control?"
They were a little quiet after that.

I know it's only God who has protected me from heartache and mistakes, both physical and emotional.  I'm sure if left on my own I would not be any different from my students.  I was encouraged this week that I apparently am different, because that's what I've always prayed for my life-- that God would help me to be holy so that others would see that and know the God I serve.  I hope my students see that I'm different and see the God I serve, not a prudish spinster. 

Being a teacher is the strangest, most challenging, most enlightening job ever.

I Smell a Change in the Wind... or on My Screen...

About, oh, maybe a year ago {?} I started writing a "book" on singleness.  Really it started as a pamphlet, written more as an extended journal entry and rant than anything else.  I was in the middle of dealing with some pretty strong emotions: anger, bitterness, sadness, disappointment, insufficiency, hurt, pride.  Most of my friends were in serious relationships, my roommate was dating seriously (which led to engagement), and I... well, I was still alone, unpursued, unattached.  While I'd never experienced anything more than one DTR (define-the-relationship, for those of you out of the Moody-speak loop) in my entire high school and college experience, the idea of being the "last one" was new for me; I was working through it with typing fingers and whirling mind gears.

There were nights of tears.  There were pleading prayers.  There was depression.  There was selfishness.  And now, as I change directions with my "book," it is fascinating to look back and see how my writing process mirrored my own process and progress.  My writing started as something for me, something to make me feel better and a way for me to work through my hurt.  While I thought I was focusing on the right things: moving forward, enjoying singleness, etc, what I find now is simply that I was altogether too me-focused.

Every month or two I'd pick up the "book" again... subtracting something that just wasn't right, adding something I'd learned in the meantime.  And when I look at the words before me now, on a bleach-white, bare, electronic page, I must apply the newest, most important lesson (nay, hurdle) I've learned in my life as a single woman.  What would be the point of my writing another book on singleness to sit on the nightstand of a single woman, for her to read before she goes to bed alone?  She'd be armed with more superficial artillery against her depression-- that "I'm not alone" feeling soothes for a time.  But with what would she really be left, when more of her girlfriends get married, and she truly is the last one?

With my own growth and struggles and victories and triumphs, I have found that it's just not enough to read the words of someone else; it is not enough to try to help myself.  No, there is one source that is sufficient for me and for other women to live and love their life of singleness: that is God's Word.  And so, my "book" has taken a new direction.  From here on out, I'll be using my musings and anecdotes only to introduce the meat that has satisfied me and truly changed my perspective-- I'm writing a devotional.  I don't want it to be one of those light, fluffy, cheesy devotionals that a single woman will pick up, read for three minutes with her breakfast and forget about by the time she hits traffic.  I want it to be a meaty, intense, truth-packed collection of real-life issues and lessons backed not by experience or feelings but the Word of God.

The only way to change perspective, the only way to find joy and contentment, is through His Word... so why would I steer women from that and towards my musings alone?  I can't in good conscience.  So there it is.  The winding road of my journey has changed me, and I do want to communicate that with other women.  But very simply, I didn't change myself.  God's Word changed me.  It is my true prayer and hope that women with similar struggles will be changed as well.