Struggles

Honest.  I struggle.  Do you? Duh. Of course you do.  If you have skin, you struggle.

If you don’t have skin, you probably struggle, too.

Life isn’t easy.  At all.

Sure, there are bright and happy moments.  Like wedding days full of sunshine. Summers with bubbles and lightning bugs.

But seriously.  Struggles can eclipse the joys of life.

As is typical for me, I am struggling with transitions.  There are so many on the horizon and some even going on right now.

For instance, The Hunk and I both get a little sad when campus students leave for the summer.  Borderline depressed, actually.  We actually like those kids. A lot. Even when they frustrate us and remind us of how old we are–even though we really aren’t that old.

This and other transitions are really taking a lot of our brain time.  How do we help people who will be left in the wake of our transitions? How do we join in together with a new purpose when neither of us really know what that will even look like at this point? Should we buy a house? That’s another transition; are we ready for that? How do we help those around us deal with their transitions, too? How do we really know that these transitions are timely?

So, there you have it.

What are you struggling with?

Love,

To My Husband

Dearest Husband,

Today is your birthday.  An ordinary birthday.  No milestone.  You’re young, but no spring break college guy with ignorance ruling your brain and other organs.

I’ve been married to you less than three years.  I’ll be honest, when we said, “I do,” I thought that was when the short countdown had started that would tick off the seconds until you would stop being as awesome as I hoped you were.

You’ve done the opposite.

You’ve shown me what Christ’s love really is.  Even when I’m feeling as though I am at my worst, you remind me that you love the snot out of me.  That you think the world of me.  And that you love me no matter how horrible and slow and emotionally wrecked I may be.

You’ve shown me what a best friend really is.  My whole life, I searched for best friends who would accept me and be themselves around me as well.  You are that person.  You accept all versions of me: smart, ditsy, polished, grungy, creative, boring, goofy, serious, organized, flaky, grumpy, friendly.

I tell you these things all the time.  I love that about our marriage.  We can give one another what may feel like corny compliments.  But those compliments help us to trust one another even more, since we both struggle to accept ourselves in our imperfections.

Even at your worst, you impress me.  I’d say that you’re better than me when you’re at your worst. But you’d hate that I say that, denying it fervently.  I am continually impressed at how you carefully, diligently, and lovingly join with me to handle conflicts, problems, and concerns.  You’re the best teammate ever.  And I trust you.

So, on this day, an ordinary birthday, I look forward to spending many more birthdays with you.  Traveling with you.  Attempting spontaneity with you.  Seeking Christ with you.  Laughing with you.  Crying with you.  Dancing in the kitchen with you. Making decisions with you.  

Happy birthday,

Your Cute Wife

A piece of advice

Listen.  Despite everything you try to do on your own, you were born into a world wrought with sin. Sin sounds like a terrible word. Well, it kind of is. Except that we don’t initially earn sinfulness. In the same way, we don’t earn unsinfulness. Is that a word? Anyway, my advice is to take the only route out of the eternal falling: believe in Jesus. Believe. In. Jesus.
That’s it.
Then you’re saved from dieing eternally. Like, I mean constantly. Imagine burning forever without ever reaching death. That’s kinda what hell will be like.
So take my advice.
Believe.

Love,

The thing I’m most afraid of

As I think about today’s prompt, a few ideas run through my mind. Every time I think of something terrifying to me, I go through the if-then statement. It always ends with God. If that happens, I still have God.
I hope I can be that strong if the time comes.
So, my biggest fear would by default be anything without God.
Friends who never believe in Jesus.
Decisions made without considering God’s plan.
Money spent without consideration of God’s stewardship given to me.
Pursuits that are not evil in and of themselves, but that take away from God’s time.

Anything without God is terrifying.

What do I do?

I make a difference.
I could reply with a video.
But I won’t.
But it’s true.  All of it.
Definitely. Beautiful.
I could answer with Proverbs 31.
But I haven’t perfected that yet.

I dream of better and reach for it.
I hope for others to have happiness unending.
I push others to push themselves.
I snap…
pictures worth thousands of words.
I support my husband as he schools,
prepares preachings
leads leaders
counsels clients.
I forget to return phone calls
and I persist in classroom technological improvement.
I avoid awkward pauses.
I network.
I read.
I self-teach. I learn. I research.
I travel.
I find the impossible and make it plausible
even if the puzzle piece doesn’t seem to fit the space provided.
I love, teach, photographize.
I do too much, yet not enough.

Love,