"Why Do Black People Always Have to Make It About Race?"

     I was sitting in Walmart the other day, sharing a wicker couch (classy) with an adorable elderly woman as we both waited to have our oil changed. On the couch just next to us were three more seemingly kind people, two gentlemen and a lady, who were also waiting on their vehicles. It appeared I was the only stranger in this group. I chatted politely with the sweet woman with whom I was sharing the couch as we talked celebrity gossip while perusing a copy of In Style.
   
 Not so shortly thereafter, I answered a call from my husband just as a 20-something black man entered the store. The man was wearing a hat and sunglasses, a grill on his teeth, a tank top with basketball shorts, and tall black socks with neon stars and hearts all over them. I giggled to myself as I regarded this “take notice” outfit. My thoughts were quickly interrupted by the two men sitting on the next couch, for as the black man began to walk away from us and into the main part of the store, one of the men held up his hand, forming his finger and thumb into the shape of a gun and pretended to shoot the black man, a thought that seemed to greatly amuse his company. I could feel my whole body start to shake with anger. Immediately, and without explanation, I began trying to sort out his actions in my head, “It was just a joke; he didn’t mean it,” “Maybe it’s because he thought the black man was dressed funny,” “Maybe it was...”
  
  My excuses were immediately squelched as the man pointing his “gun” continued on, “Yeah, I’d like to get that one too!” he said as he pointed and "fired" at another black man in the store, this one wearing some sort of work uniform. The others continued to laugh and help him point out different black people that they, too, felt deserved to be shot. My insides were boiling.
   
 “Hello? Hello?” My husband’s voice regained my attention. “I’m sorry honey, I couldn’t hear you over these IGNORANT RACISTS sitting next to me!” I responded. I brazenly stared into the eyes of the men and woman who were no longer laughing. The older woman sitting next to me buried her face in her magazine. My husband, not wanting me to risk my safety by starting trouble, asked me to please let it go and ignore them. He would fight a bear for me (literally), but he was several states away and knew there was nothing he could do if these people decided to react to my declaration.  I told him I would call him back. The hecklers kept their silence for a while (seriously, HOW LONG does it take to change someone’s oil?!) but eventually couldn’t help themselves and again began hatefully discussing the black patrons who entered the store. The elderly woman next to me shushed them, and I looked over at her, relieved. At least SOMEONE was willing to stand up for what is right. Unfortunately, when I looked over at her, she was not-so-subtly pointing at me as she shushed. While the death threats didn’t phase her, apparently my crazy-lady outburst was more than she could bear.

  Approximately 1,483 minutes later, the Walmart auto department finally finished with my vehicle. The racist idiots managed to keep their comments to themselves for the remainder of the time, which I attribute primarily to my highly potent evil eye which stayed fixed on them, daring them to say another word. As I left, I may or may not have once again expressed my displeasure at the man’s actions with my own attitude and gesture. (Sorry you had to see that, old lady. And sorry to my grandmother who taught me better.) That’s all I’ll say about that...  And so, I was off.

    Now before I say anything else, let me just tell you, I did NOT handle this situation correctly, obviously. I did nothing but stoop to their ignorant, hateful level. I was beyond furious, and I believe my anger came from a righteous place. We SHOULD stand up for people when they are being mistreated or victimized. We SHOULD let people know that for every person that has a hateful or violent thought, there are many more willing to shut them down, regardless of the cost. However, I should NOT have handled it the way I did. I did not submit to the requests my loving husband gave in order to protect me. Most of all, in a situation that could have been glorifying to the Lord, my actions did not point towards Jesus. (Ok, so technically I pointed towards Jesus, but I’m sure it says in the Bible somewhere that it doesn’t count if do it the way I did.)  With all that being said, there are a few things I learned from this situation that I think everyone needs to hear:

Sometimes, it IS about race: Did you notice the first thing I did when the man on the couch pointed his “gun”? I tried to justify it. Why? Seriously, why is that? This was not an overreaction to some man’s “joke”.

He laughed, but he was not joking.

He was not being subtle; he made it clear that he felt that black man and several others should die because of their race.

Plain and simple.

I am constantly hearing things like, “Well, that could be racist, but it also could be...” “Sure that sounded racist, but he or she probably meant...” “That’s just how people are in this town” “Older people are just like that; they aren’t going to change” “Why are black people always making things about race?” For me, I just didn’t want to believe that that kind of hate was real. That kind of hate is not an easy problem to solve. It’s deep and complicated and does not have an easily implemented solution. I can tell those people not to be hateful, and I can strive not to be hateful myself, but the problem is still there. I tried to justify what he did because crass joking is an easier problem to solve than pure evil.
For some people, we justify this kind of behavior because we simply don’t give a shit about black people. Flat out.
You know how I know? Because some of you were just more offended by my use of the word “shit” than by the story about a white man who fantasized about murdering a bunch of strangers because they were black.1 We don’t care. We care about a dead lion, we care about a man who cut off his genitals and put on a dress, we care about our right to fly some flag, but we don’t care that our fellow human beings have legitimate reason to fear for their life. If you were the black man and you had been aware of what was being said about you, wouldn’t you be quick to be defensive in the future? Wouldn’t you always wonder if people who looked at you funny were thinking something hateful? If you said “no”, you are lying to yourself. If we want to show that we love and care about people of all races, we must stop justifying hate.

Sometimes we MUST say something. Look, if you know me, you know I’m mouthy. I’m 5’2”, scrappy, and people rarely have to wonder what I’m thinking. It is almost never a good thing. I often have to quote Proverbs 10:19 to myself, “When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise.” I actively strive to “live peaceably with all” as the Lord instructs us in Romans 12:18, but sometimes, especially as believers, we simply should not remain silent. The Bible tells us countless times to stand up for those who have no voice, for those who are in need, and for those who are oppressed (Proverbs 31:8-9, Isaiah 1:17, Psalm 82:3, Proverbs 25:26). We see Jesus stand up for the oppressed and mistreated repeatedly throughout the New Testament. If someone, black, white, young, old, likable, annoying, is being mistreated, we must be empowered and stand up for them, even if it brings trouble on ourselves. A lot of people would say to just sit there and ignore them, but if THIS isn’t worth speaking up about, what is?
Our culture thinks that speaking up means ranting about our cause on social media, but it’s all just a bunch of noise until we live it out in person.
No one is afraid of internet-you. We are not brave behind a computer screen. We can use social media to speak truth and spread love, but it means nothing if it stops there. Speaking our beliefs is nothing if we don’t DO our beliefs.

 Vengeance is the Lord’s With all that being said, there is a right way and a wrong way to stand up for others. We stand up for others because Christ stands up for us. If the way we, ahem, I, stand up for others doesn’t remind people of what Jesus did at the cross, I’ve done it wrong. I have contemplated why I did what I did that day (I feel like an idiot thinking back on it), and it was because I wanted those people to feel the same hate they were exuding and I wanted them to be afraid just like the victims of racism have to be. That’s called a thirst for vengeance. But, here’s the thing: it wasn’t my job to make them feel the pain and fear that they inflicted on others. Rather, that moment was an opportunity to say that what they were doing was wrong, stand up for the person being persecuted, and share the unconditional love of Jesus. Vengeance belongs to God alone (Leviticus 19:18, 2 Timothy 1:7, Romans 12:19-20). I wish I could tell you exactly what that moment in Walmart should have looked like. It’s something I’m still not sure of, but I do know this: I was not prepared. I was so overcome with anger and so unprepared to share the love of Jesus that I failed miserably. The Bible says we need to be prepared in season and out of season to share the love of Christ. If you don’t know how you would have reacted in the same situation, welcome to the boat. Let’s plan how we can stand up for others and share Jesus’s love, even with those who seem most unlovable.

We have to stick together, always. I am idealistic enough to believe that many of you who are reading this are just a furious as me. Call me naive, but I KNOW we are the majority. The world is coming at us from all sides trying to divide us. The powers that be would like to vilify our differences and tear us apart. That’s what sells. That’s what keeps people watching, “liking”, commenting, and sharing.  Rainbows and butterflies don’t bring in the money. Through all of the noise, we have to recognize when we’re being manipulated and remember that we stand TOGETHER.

“White” people: If a black person feels that they were mistreated because of their race, believe them. Love them. Show them that you will not do the same. Empower them to be strong in the midst of persecution and to rise above the adversity. Tell them that they are not alone because you love them, and most importantly, Jesus loves them. When the media or your friends try to tell you that a person must be bad based on something trivial and inconsequential (ahem, where one wears one’s pants) block out the noise. People can look, talk, and act differently than us without deserving a negative label. Recognize the subtle ways we do not show love to our brothers and sisters: crass joking, perpetuating stereotypes, judging all based on one, and strive to  remove those actions from your own life. We can’t control the idiots who cling to ignorance, but we can change ourselves. We must.

Black people: If a white person says they love you and do not see you any differently because of your race, believe them. Not all white people are like those idiots. There are many black leaders who would have you believe that they are. These leaders are not doing you any favors. No one makes it onto the news for being sensible. The men and women who want to tell you that all white people are born prejudice and can never understand you are trying to use you to perpetuate strife and propel themselves to fame. Don’t let them make you their tool. You are loved. You are not alone. When some person says something insensitive or careless to you, remind them that you are a child of God and that Jesus loves you... and them.


My heart is aching. How long will the disease of racism plague us? Let’s become the cure.

I Took A Leap of Faith and Nothing Happened

If you've been following along with my and Isaac's newest adventure, you know that we felt called to make some huge changes in our lives, a few of which include changing careers, giving away most of our stuff, and buying an RV to live life out on the open road.

Now, before embarking on this journey, we did everything good little Christians do: we prayed about our decisions, evaluated whether or not our choices aligned with scripture and our ultimate goal to glorify God, sought wise counsel, and finally, acted in faith. Honestly, at first it was a whole lot more fun than sacrifice. We LOVE love our new little home and the simplicity of having a LOT less "stuff" to clutter our lives. But, as Aristotle taught us, a journey isn't really an adventure without the ups and downs.

Isaac worked his cute little booty off to get one of the hardest and most valuable certifications for the job he wants. Everyone told us that pipelines can't keep enough Certified Welding Inspectors, and that we would have our pick of jobs. People in the business have stuck their necks out to connect us to the right people and help us open doors. We decided not to renew our contracts with the school because we didn't want to be dishonest to our employers about our plans and we DEFINITELY didn't want to risk ditching 150+ students each so that we could pick up and switch jobs when one comes along. We really strove to do the right thing by our employers, students, and other teachers who could fill our positions.

And yet, it's been almost three months and we still have no pipeline job to speak of.

I don't need to go into the details of our personal lives for you to know that there have been many nights around our house full of tearful prayers and pained attempts to shake the feeling that we have failed miserably. We try to at least take turns being the strong and encouraging one, but truthfully, this season is really tough for both of us. We believe very strongly that God led us down this path, but why is this happening?

Now, I have sat in many churches and across many cups of coffee with believers and relished in the joy that comes with sharing how faithful God is to bless us when we take a "leap of faith." He is so good! But what happens when you take that leap of faith and nothing happens? No one ever really preaches about jumping out in faith because you just KNOW God will catch you only to end up hitting the pavement with a big fat SPLAT. (Or at least, that's how it feels, right?)

I'm not writing this post to complain or elicit sympathy. God has really been laying these words on my heart because I have a very strong feeling that that there may be others who have struggled with this-- and through far worse circumstances than ours. I have a feeling that deep down, in the places within our hearts we don't like to talk about, most of us have had the moments that sound like,

"I tithed, believing God would provide, and the ends still didn't seem to meet."
Or
"I did the ethical thing, knowing God honors those who thirst for righteousness, and the lying cheater won out."
Or
"I submitted to my husband like the Bible says, but it seems like it was the wrong choice."
 Or
"We painted the nursery blue, but with heavy hearts we came home from the hospital only two."

...and a million other examples.

In reality, this part, the hard, painful, "oh my gosh, has God forgotten about me" part, is typically the middle of the journey, not the end. The happy stories we hear from the pulpit are viewing these trials in hindsight. However, as a person in the midst of the struggle, I have been begging for God to talk to me about THIS place we're in, right here, right now. And He did.

You see, in spite of myself, I allowed my hopes and dreams--even the "godly" ones--to redefine what faith really is. As a result, I have been believing a lie that has acted as a breeding ground for a lot of pain and doubt. When I start believing that God owes me something because of my "super spiritual" faith-filled actions, I've begun to worship a genie, not an all-knowing, good and perfect FATHER who loves me enough to give me what I truly need rather than what I think I do. As a result, I unwittingly fell into a "prosperity gospel" mindset, which can lead to disappointment, disillusionment, and discontentment. Acts of faith are not a way of paying off God so that He will give us what we want. (I know we already know this, but I'm wondering if I'm the only one who knew it in her head but forgot it in her heart.) Faith is trusting God enough to know that He is working out a plan for our good and His glory (Jer. 29:11, Romans 8:28) even if it's not what we pictured!

So, as a reminder to myself and any others who may need this encouragement, here are some truths God has been laying on my heart about what real faith is (and is not):

1. Faith is not passive
True faith doesn't just happen. It requires action. Confession 1: I am deeply annoyed by people who assume that they have no responsibility over their own lives because "God will take care of it." If you can't pay the bills, DO SOMETHING. Trim the fat from your budget, get a job, change jobs, something. Sitting around doing nothing because "God will take care of it" makes about as much sense as practicing abstinence and expecting to get pregnant. While God can do anything, He created us with higher thinking and reasoning skills for a purpose. Even having the faith to wait on God requires action. He has us waiting for a reason, and if Isaac and I aren't actively seeking His will for this time, we will miss out. When we are not actively bathing ourselves in the truth of God's goodness, our faith begins to fade, or worse, morph into something false.

Our time here is a gift and a vapor, so we must be concertedly acting in faith.

2. Faith is not a trick.
Many people are reluctant to practice active faith because they are afraid they may do something "outside of God's will". I have definitely been guilty of this. I know I have a decision to make, but I don't want to choose the wrong thing, so I just passively wait around hoping that God will send me a sign or just work things out. Throughout this season, I have caught myself wondering if God is disciplining us for making a bad decision or not being godly enough. Unfortunately, when we believe this, we are subconsciously assuming that God is just some Punisher in the sky, waiting to inflict his wrath at our first misstep. God loves us. He is not trying to trick us so that he can say "I told you so." God gave us the Bible to guide us through the rights and wrongs, but he gave us a brain to guide us through the rights and lefts. If there is a decision to be made, and we have tested our options with scripture and know that all are godly, biblical possibilities, then we can choose and act with confidence. We see an example of this in Acts 16 when Paul takes steps to minister in Asia, but God closed the door and steered him towards Macedonia. It was not a sin for Paul to choose the "wrong" option. God gave him the freedom to do that and honored Paul's actions by steering him in the correct direction. God is loving and faithful to guide us towards His plan. How can he steer us if we won't put the car in drive?

3. Faith looks foolish to the world.
Confession 2: I have been really reluctant to publish this post because I feel a lot of shame. Thoughts like, "People will think we were being dumb." or "What if people think I'm an idiot or not godly enough to hear the Lord correctly?" have been continuously passing through my mind. We have avoided phone calls and get-togethers with our family and friends (sorry!) because we feel embarrassed. We don't want to look like failures. I wish I could say that our fears are completely invalid, but according to scripture, they are not: "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God." 1 Cor. 1:18. Faith at it's most basic and core level, looks like idiocy to people who don't know Jesus. If just the message of the cross is foolishness to the world, then OF COURSE centering your major life decisions around faith in this message is going to bring about some judgmental glances and scoffs.
Here's the good news: other believers, (you know, those people we've been shamefully avoiding) CAN understand. They are walking the same walk we are, even if the circumstances look a little different. God encourages us to walk with other Christians because we are going through the same things and can encourage each other. The few people who we actually have shared our gory details with have loved us, prayed for us, and spoken truth into our lives. Yes, the world may think our decisions are silly or stupid, but God knows our hearts and has sent us a lot of really great people to walk this journey with us. 

4. Faith is not actually foolish.
I wouldn't be doing my readers justice if I didn't at least briefly address this one last point: taking a leap of faith does not mean acting like an idiot. Yes, we gave away our stuff and quit our jobs, but we are not sitting around crying all day hoping that our bills get paid. Isaac is working long, hard hours everyday in the heat doing construction like a champ. Regardless of how God has responded to our prayers and actions, Isaac knows his role as a provider and leader in our home, and he does not take it lightly. I am about to start substitute teaching. We send out his resume to countless companies over and over again every single week. Our faith may look like foolishness to the world, but that doesn't warrant us to actually act foolish. It is not a license to behave recklessly, neglect our responsibilities, cultivate our laziness, fail to plan, or make excuses. Wisdom and faith go hand in hand. 

So, that's where we are. I hope sharing these things has been encouraging and helpful. You are not alone. G.K. Chesterton once said,  
"Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found difficult and not tried." 
He was right, and God is good. 

While we covet your prayers right now, I cannot end without telling you that there are many good things going on right now. In my next post, I'll be letting you know why camper life is the best ever! :)

What the wha--?? Our house has WHEELS!

Hello all!

    If you’ve been following along the past few days, you know that Isaac and I have prayerfully decided to move forward towards our dream of owning a wedding venue.  If this is news to you, here is the link to the post where you can read all the details!

We also bought our first home!

And it’s a 5th wheel...

...This may make us rednecks...

...Or hippies...

...I’ll look into it.

    Ok, so obviously we aren’t trying to start some novelty RV-themed wedding business. For some reason, I don’t think the “Mobile Home Wedding” industry is exactly booming. HOWEVER, and as a completely unrelated side note, this post did tickle my curiosity, so I googled “trailer weddings” and found this site, which actually had some cute and quaint ideas. I’ll wait while you look at the pics and experience unexpected delight. Can you tell I’ve had coffee?

    Ok, focusing now. The fifth wheel. Our home! Here’s how that came about:

    First off, If you’ve never bought a home or land before, I need to let you in on a little secret: they cost money. Here’s another secret: teachers don’t make very much money. Don’t get me wrong, Isaac and I love being teachers. We find our jobs rewarding and challenging and fulfilling, but when we tried to pay for land in the currency of “the joy of changing children’s lives and making a difference in the world”,  it turned out that real estate agents don’t really barter.

    So there you go. We could scrimp and save, but it would be many years before we even had a down payment for the amount of land we are looking for in the location we would like-- Magnolia, Texas, if you’re wondering. Possibility two was to borrow. Again, this would be tricky because we would not have a respectable down payment for a while, and we, as our own personal preference, do not want to finance anything that will take a significant portion of the rests of our lives to pay off. So that left us with only two more options: change our income or change our dream.

    We prayed for a way to change our income. I’m going to be very brutally honest here-- with a music degree and English degree between the two of us, we were literally praying for a miracle. I have a feeling this comes as no surprise to anyone...











    So we prayed for our miracle, and surely enough, God provided. You see, at this time, Isaac’s father had recently begun considering changing careers as well. He has a friend who is a retired pipeline welding inspector. I am not certain I knew before now that this job existed, but as explained in the name, it is a person who goes around the country and looks at the welds on pipelines to make sure they are strong and up to code. As it turns out, these fellas make a lot of money-- about three times more than Isaac and I make combined. Well, both Isaac and his father have a good deal of welding experience, so we prayed again, and began looking in to this possible job opportunity.

It looked bleak at first.

    The certification prep. class for this job? Not cheap. The book? Not cheap. The certification test itself? You guessed it, also not cheap. I should also mention that Isaac and I could not afford a honeymoon when we first got married, so we had been saving up for a road trip to New York, and had just depleted our accounts with all of the hotel reservations, tickets, and other expenses involved in a trip. So there we were, wondering if this were God’s will for our lives. If we had found out about the job and the expenses required to get certified a few measly days earlier, we could have cancelled our trip and had the money to pay for all of it. But we didn’t and so we didn’t.

    The money for everything was due in 7 weeks, and if we couldn’t come up with it, we would be locked into our teaching contracts by the time the next class came along and would have to wait until next year to give this whole thing a go. And this is where I need to let you know how happy I am to be married to a prayer warrior. Isaac did not get discouraged; he just kept praying. I was fortunate to get some extra hours after school running tutorials, doing private in-home tutoring, and making cakes. Isaac received several orders for custom made rods, which he is awesome at making, and we both tightened our budget until every extra penny popped right out.

    As you can guess, we were able to come up with the money. Praise God!

    With all of these doors opening for us, we talked, planned, and prayed and decided that it was time to take a step of faith. If Isaac passes his certification test and gets a job as an inspector, we will be hitting the road and traveling wherever his job needs him. So, we saved and worked some more, and bought ourselves a truck and a fifth wheel. We made it a point to purchase within our means as teachers, understanding that God is God, and He, in his goodness and sovereignty, may choose to close the door on this opportunity, in which case we would still need to be able to make our payments. Either way, we’re camper people now. :)

    And so there it is. Our dream of owning a wedding venue is still far out on the horizon, but if Isaac gets this job, we will be able to move towards it much faster.

    Friends, if you’ve made it this far into the post, I’d like to ask you a favor. Will you please pray for us, particularly Isaac and his dad? The certification test Isaac and his father will be taking on July 19th is incredibly difficult with an extremely low pass rate. (It is thankfully MUCH higher for people who take the class they are currently in.) They have been studying their hearts out since they received the materials a month ago, and are sitting in class every day for the next two weeks to prepare. The course gives them about 4 hours of homework a night, and weekend work. Isaac and his father are both mentally exhausted but pressing on because they see this as a chance to serve and provide for us, their family, well. They’re not looking for an easy buck; they’re working HARD. If you don’t know them personally, they are two of the most honorable and hard working men I know. :) I feel confident that we are moving in the right direction and that they will both pass with flying colors, but if you don’t mind, can we all just lift this up in prayer together? Any time you have a spare moment between now and July 19th, just send one up for us. Thank you in advance!

    I will keep posting with updates as we find out any news! Thanks again, everyone!

Our Dream... and Some Big News!

Hello, all!

    If you read my last blog post, Give Up On Your Dreams, you know I told you that Isaac and I are getting ready to embark on a new adventure in our lives.

Now let's just go ahead and kill the suspense: we are NOT pregnant-- neither one of us. :p

I'll give you a moment to get over your disappointment...

BUT...

We DID just buy our first home! Yipeeeee!

Now, before I tell you about the home, I want to tell you our dream and the story behind it:

    In one of my first years of teaching, I had the honor and privilege to accompany one of my lovely students prom dress shopping. This particular gem happened to desire a white prom dress, so we headed on over to a certain bridal store that shall remain nameless, as I’m pretty sure the events that transpired in said bridal store probably occur in most.
   
    As I sat outside the dressing rooms, alert and ready to be helpful with my nods of approval or pantomime puking, depending on what the dress my student was modeling warranted, I noticed a group of bridesmaids doing the same for their lady of the hour. When the bride-to-be would walk out, they would “ooooooh” and “ahhhhhh” and give plenty of commentary, as all good bridesmaids do. After trying on several dresses, the young woman came out of the dressing room in a gorgeous gown, and with gasps and smiles, the bridesmaids all knew she had found HER wedding dress.

Now here’s where it got weird:

    As she gave that tearful nod of approval, that nod that most girls can’t wait to give, that “this is the ONE” nod, the saleswoman handed her a shiny, golden bell.

   “It’s time!” the saleswoman excitedly whispered to her, and the bride held that bell high above her head and rang it with shouts of joy and reckless abandon.

Seriously.

    Simultaneously and inexplicably, all of the customers and employees began jubilantly clapping and cheering. Feeling my eyes become watery, I looked down only to find my hands clapping in approval as well! The excitement was hypnotic and addictive.


And we wonder why men don’t like to shop with us...

   
    Amidst the celebration, there was one thing I happened to notice. That bell, while seemingly an innocuous way of making the bride feel special, was actually something completely different: It was a signal--a signal to every salesperson in that store to start circling; there was blood in the water. Within seconds, women surrounded the bride-to-be and began adorning her with a veil, tiara, shoes, jewelry, and anything else you can think of. How could she not feel like royalty?

The princess had no time to waver--
“Oh, you’ll want to go ahead and get these shoes; they may not be here tomorrow!”

“This veil is a perfect match! That almost never happens. Aren’t you a lucky girl?” 


“Oh, you’ll want to go ahead and get this tiara. Once the dress is off, you may forget what it looks like, and you certainly can’t cart it around from store to store to shop for accessories!”

That blasted tiara? TWO HUNDRED FRAPPIN’ DOLLARS!

    I could see the bride beginning to buckle under the pressure, and, not being able to help myself, I leaned over to one of the bridesmaids and mentioned that I just happened to see a tiara that was almost identical for $15 at Claire’s a few days ago. From a distance, you wouldn’t know the difference, and maybe it would be a good idea to encourage the bride to get a good night’s rest before making a decision that was quickly adding up to north of a grand. The maid got my drift and rescued her friend by politely shooing away all of the, possibly well-meaning but most likely manipulative, salespeople. She must have been a truly amazing bridesmaid and friend.

After recanting the tale to some of our friends, we found that this sort of insanity is actually quite common.

    And thus is the wedding industry-- a frenzy of sharks financially feasting upon the blood of excited, emotionally vulnerable women.  Two years later when I became a bride, no amount of cognizance of this fact could shield me from the temptation to accept the industry’s fake worship. I mean, it’s been ingrained into us since we were little girls. The wedding day is “the bride’s day” and we get to wear our princess dress and marry our prince charming and live happily ever after. Basically, we get one day of our lives to shamelessly worship ourselves, and in keeping with this practice, no expense, regardless of what it means for our future, is too much.

    I get it, those salespeople are just doing their job. Many of them probably don’t feel they are in any way being malicious or manipulative at all; they are just helping make the bride’s day PERFECT. But I wonder if any twinge of guilt would creep in if they pictured the blushing bride 5 years from now, emotionally and relationally stressed to the max because she is still buried under a mountain of credit card debt from her "dream" wedding.

    The point is, these experiences planted a seed of desire within my heart to step in and be something different. There began to stir a longing to meet and interact with brides in an encouraging, positive, and NON-manipulative way. When Isaac and I sat down to discuss our future and where we wanted to be in ten years, we both realized that our gifts and passions were pointing us to the same thing: we want to own a wedding venue.

    Isaac loves to build and till and be creative in many ways, and I love to encourage and plan and interact with women who are in this stage of their life. We both feel strongly that it is an opportunity to be uniquely missional while making a living-- without financially gouging young and unsuspecting people who are entering into a beautifully blessed but often difficult time in their lives. We’ve talked about being able to host many other events and love on the people with whom we come in contact through these interactions as well. Best of all, God has revealed to us some of the unique and special ways that having land and facilities of this nature can allow us to care for people who cannot afford “to be a prince/princess for a day.”

    So there it is. We want to buy land. We want to build. And we want to serve. That is the dream we have been given, and we are actively taking steps to pursue it.

The first step was to buy a home.

Oh, by the way, this is it:


Confused? Come back tomorrow for all the deets on our new RV and the traveling adventures that lay before us! :)

Give Up On Your Dreams

    I was 25 years old when I married. Isaac was 27. Now, while we weren’t exactly pushing walkers down the isle, we felt a little old for first-time (and last :)) newlyweds. As a former education major, I felt ANCIENT. My first year at A&M, I had a professor ask all of us future educators to tell her, by show of hands, who of us was engaged or in a long-term, serious relationship. About half of the students in the class (comprised of almost all females, of course) raised their hand. That was the first day of freshman year, people! By the time I started grad. school, the people who had raised their hand were married and had children, the people who hadn’t were now well on their way, and I, well, I was wondering if I should now, in my old age, just give up and start collecting cats.

    It’s amazing how we perceive ourselves and what life looks like based on who we choose to spend it with. If I had chosen to be a doctor, lawyer, or engineer, I bet I would have felt a lot different about myself and what I was supposed to be doing with my life and when said life events were supposed to take place.

    In a very positive way, the same shaping and molding of one’s hopes, dreams, and future occurs when he or she moves from being unmarried to married. Oh, the world will often tell you this shaping is negative. They may accuse you of “losing yourself” in a relationship or “giving up on your dreams”. To tell you the truth, I am fully convinced that that is one of the reasons many young people are getting married at a later in age in life (on average, and unbeknownst to college-me, age 27 for women and 29 for men). We are told to make our own plans and build our own dreams, which is good, but then we’re pushed past “good” and into “unhealthy” by the insinuations or out-right directives to NEVER unclench our tightened fists that hold those dreams, no matter who comes along. Well, if you are dating a person who is holding their  dreams just as tightly, with the same unrelenting conviction that “If my future spouse doesn’t want THIS, he or she is not my future spouse!” you can see how one’s dating life can be significantly prolonged. If these people do give in and marry, they often end up despondent and disappointed in a battlefield of a marriage.

    As it turns out, and as with most things in life, the truth of the matter lies somewhere in the middle of the extreme “lose yourself” and “it’s my way or the highway” philosophies. There ARE some, probably many, things that need to be non-negotiables when entering into a new relationship. My non-negotiable was finding a man whose life was surrendered to Christ. Period. End of story. An aligning financial philosophy was another important thing to me. These and a few other qualities were attributes I knew I could not and should not let go of.

    And then there was the rest. The stuff I felt was really important, but that I knew was not crucial to my spirituality, sanity, or survival. The little things, “Well I like silver dollar pancakes and he likes plate-sized pancakes...”, tend to work themselves out on their own. Come to think of it, that’s pretty much the entire first year of marriage: talking--or sometimes fussing-- your way through the small stuff.

    One’s “dreams” lie somewhere in the middle of faith and pancakes, and if we have truly laid down our life for someone through marriage, dreams can and should be negotiable.

    Now, I know what some of you are thinking, and NO, I’m not saying that you have to give up your dreams to get a spouse or that marriage kills dreams or some other crazy notion. Instead, I want to communicate from the depths of my heart the incredibly wonderful news that marriage brings about dreams you never knew you had. The things that bring you joy change because as time goes on, it brings you joy to see the other person happy. There is something truly enchanting and delightful about sitting down with the person to whom, by the grace of God, you have committed your life and talking about each other’s strengths and passions and what the two of you should be doing in life to infuse those into a future together. And no, it won’t always look like what it did when you were single.

And dang it, that’s ok.

    You’re not selling out or missing out by holding your dreams loosely. It saddens me when I see marriages or families suffer because one person came into the relationship with “dreams” they just can’t let go of.

“I have always dreamed of being an artist. It is my passion. Yes, my wife worries that we can’t pay the bills and it negatively affects our marriage. Yes, it stirs within her a heart of distrust regarding whether or not I can lead our family well, but this is my dream and she needs to stop being selfish and just understand!”

“My husband’s job requires us to move constantly. Growing up, I always pictured myself in a beautiful home where I could spend time planted firmly in a community with lifelong friends. This isn’t what I signed up for!”

    Oh, how I wish in these moments I could just hug the hurting person and tell them to just “let it go.” Not so as to keep it in their back pocket for later when they need to have a trump card in a fight, and not to rub their spouse’s nose in how holy and sacrificial they’ve been, but to experience the freedom that comes with allowing God, through their spouse, to mold a new and better dream-- one that creates harmony in their home and strengthens their marriage rather than pits spouse against spouse in some cosmic point system of who’s had to give up more. The sacrifices required for the plans you make together can be done with a joyful heart because you no longer feel like you’re losing a battle against your spouse or “losing yourself”, you instead realize you are simply working for your future together.

    Letting go of dreams does feel painful at first; it hurts and is uncomfortable. When Isaac and I married, we both had completely different dreams and plans for our lives. They were comfortable and safe plans that, yeah, involved church and serving others and all of the other good things Christians should like, but ultimately centered around ourselves only. However, when we both laid down those dreams and thought of what the other was good at and passionate about and found joy in, we began concocting a dream that looked beautiful for our life together.  I thought I would be a teacher for the rest of my life, but let me tell you something, if I had clung to that dream in spite of my husband and the changing needs of our family, I would have not only become miserable in my marriage and hurt my one true love, but my dream would have become a burden, not because my husband nagged or guilt-tripped me , but because I would have lost fellowship with him and ultimately ignored the better opportunities God was trying to offer us. Trust me on this.

So, yes, give up on your dreams, for they can often be chains holding us tightly to a past that is but a fraction of what could now be.

   
With all that being said, come back later this week, as Isaac and I are embarking on a new and exciting journey towards our together-dream! I can't wait to tell you all about it! :)

Chapter 3: The Spark

May 30th, 2012

The smell of my exquisite culinary masterpiece fills my car as I pull up to his house.

Ok, so it's just homemade Mexican food, but still, it smells pretty dang good! 

It's been a while since I've seen Isaac. We've both been tying up loose ends at work, so free time is a hot commodity. Luckily, school is finally out for me! Isaac's been preparing for his end of year pop show with his choir students, and even though he doesn't let on, I can tell he's feeling a little stressed. Despite his workload, he invited me over to watch some scary movie tonight. So, here I am, standing at his door holding a pink file crate full of hot food that I've made just for him.

After our last date, I knew that I was beginning to develop feelings for the straight-shooting 6'4" choir director/hunter/fisherman/chef/opera-singer/who-knows-what-else guy. He is more than just a man of many hats; he was a man who clearly loves God and His people.

And still, I can't help but ask myself, what about the butterflies? You know, that wonderful, bubbly feeling you get in the pit of your stomach every time HE comes around. That spark of attraction that stirs your heart so deeply it causes a physical reaction, where is that? Am I being unrealistic? The Lord has convicted me in the past of being too reliant on and/or driven by emotions, and maybe those things are just "teenager stuff" anyway. Regardless of this (perhaps trivial) inner-struggle, there is something in me that believes I am meant to continue dating Isaac and see where God leads us.

Sharing a meal together is pleasant, as always. We chat about our day, discuss his upcoming show, flirt, laugh, and play. We've only known each other for a short time, but being with him is so comfortable.

As we move over to the couch, I whimsically ponder to myself if he'll try to hold my hand or kiss me for the first time.  I mean, he DID invite me to a scary movie; that's guy code for "I want a chance to put my arm around you", right? And saying "yes" to this invitation was my girl code for "no matter how much this movie stinks, I'll at least pretend to be scared so you can 'protect' me"... right? I quickly snap myself back to reality, feeling slightly embarrassed to be a 24-year-old entertaining such immature musings.

He sits at the end of the couch and I sit in the middle, right next to him. He pushes play, and The Devil Inside begins playing.

A real winner!
Not.

 About a half hour into the movie, I feel him reach to put his arm around me. I turn slightly, resting my back against his torso and putting my bare feet up on the other end of the couch. Somehow, I seem to fit perfectly in this Christina-shaped cutout created by his arm and body. That feeling of comfort mixed with happiness washes over me again.

And then, it happens.

*Now, just a disclaimer, I feel completely ridiculous writing about this part, because I KNOW how foolish and lame it sounds. Nevertheless, with Isaac's permission, I have resolved to tell our story, and this was a major part of it, for me, at least.*

After sinking in to the comfort of Isaac's embrace, I reach my hand over and put it on his knee. We continue watching the (horrible and creepy) movie for a while when he reaches over and grabs my hand. He holds it tightly for a while and then begins to gently trace circles on the inside of my wrist with the tips of his fingers. I don't know why, but this simple act causes me to melt into a puddle! My stomach fills with butterflies and it feels as though bolts of electricity are running through my entire body. It is nothing short of fantastic.

Meanwhile, back at my pituitary gland:
-"General, we have hand-to-hand contact."
-"Thanks, Lieutenant. ALRIGHT PEOPLE, we have hand-to-hand contact! This is not a drill! Cue the palm sweat! Sergeant, get me the adrenal glands on the phone, we need a racing heartbeat!"
-"Pardon me, sir, but don't you think this is a bit much? I mean, he's just--"
-"That's enough out of you, soldier. WHERE IS THE AWKWARD SHAKING? Somebody is falling down on the job!"

I feel my legs and arms completely stiffen. My toes begin to hug each other. It feels like every muscle I have is inching its way towards my wrist, so that they can be the lucky ones feeling this exciting touch. If Isaac knew the effect this was having on me, he would probably realize what a weirdo I am and run in the other direction. Thankfully, I think I'm doing a pretty good job at playing it cool.

"Are you ok?"

Issac's voice interrupts my concerted efforts to act natural.

"Um...ya... I mean, why? I mean, I'm good. You? Is there water here?"

Smooth.

I take a deep breath and turn to look at him. It only makes things worse; I mean, better; I mean, AAAHHH!!! He looks down into my eyes and smiles sweetly at me, completely oblivious to my internal absurdity. He leans in and kisses me gently. For a moment, I become, if it's even possible, even more stiffened, and then, I feel all of the tension in my muscles completely fall away as I blissfully sink in to our first kiss.

The only way I can think to describe it is that his face was like a pillow. Now, I know how that sounds, but it wasn't a pillow in the sense that it was all fluffy and squishy. No, it was... Well, you know that feeling at the end of the day when you get home from work or school and you're just EXHAUSTED? All you want to do is go to sleep, so you climb in bed and rest your head on your pillow and it's just the most amazing feeling you've had in what feels like forever? It feels like this, laying here on your pillow, was what you were made to be doing, and you wish you never had anything else to do but this, forever. AND, what makes it even better is that it's YOUR pillow. Other people's pillows are just not the same. Yours is the best; it's comfortable and wonderful. If you've ever felt that, you can understand what I mean when I say his face was like my pillow.

"You're kind of good at that." I say stupidly.

"You too." he replies, chuckling.

"I guess the past week or so, I have been doubting myself and where I stand with you, Isaac. I'm pretty good at reading people, but sometimes you're a question mark to me."

"What? Why?"

"Well, you don't text me very often." I immediately realize how thin the basis of my concerns has been. "I guess I just thought if you were interested, you'd text me more."

And this is the moment when the Isaac-ness that I like so much comes out again: the part where he never leaves me guessing or wondering because real men don't need to play games like that to keep a woman interested. "I guess I'm not much of a texter, but rest assured, I am extremely interested in you. I will not waste your time by asking you out if I'm not interested. I want to be in a relationship with you." (For the record, he's texted me everyday since this exchange).

It was a sweet night. We ended up hanging out and talking for several more hours after this amazing moment. Although we had technically only been seeing each other, we officially declared ourselves "exclusive," which in the online dating world means we deleted our profiles. haha. We talked about past loves and mistakes, our beliefs about dating and romantic relationships, and boundaries that we felt were biblical and appropriate for our relationship. What a wonderful night!

~Chapter 4 Coming Soon~

Once again, if you've made it this far, I've left you a few little treats.

Video filled with awkward pics explaining the pituitary gland

Boy and girl humor

Chapter 2- Creepy Fish Tanks

I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is so not me!

All I can do is scold myself as I pull into the driveway of a man I’ve met face to face only once. My mother would kill me if she knew. I text my best friend Jenn and give her Isaac’s name and address in case he turns out to be a murderer. I tell her what time and pulling up and promise to text her the second I leave.

Is this one of the most reckless things I’ve ever done?

Yes.

The location of my and Isaac’s second date wasn’t my first choice. I was actually led to this driveway by a series of my own flakey tendencies. Since our first date a week ago, I had agreed to see Isaac twice and backed out because of scheduling mistakes and school obligations. (Oh, so THIS is why people use  calendars!) In my defense, it is the end of the school year, my most hectic time. Either way, he has been intentional about expressing his interest in me as well as a desire to go out again. I like that he doesn’t keep me guessing. It seems mature and ultra-manly, if that doesn’t sound silly. Isaac knows what he wants and goes after it, not in a desperate way, but rather, with resolve. (Trust me, if you have any experience with online dating, you KNOW the difference.)  And now,  I’m starting to worry that my natural “Christina-ness”, what with all of the committing and backing out, won’t last much longer before he shakes the dust from his feet and walks the other way. He’s leaving to be in a friend’s wedding tomorrow, which means he has to stay home and wash clothes tonight, but with my schedule as crazy as it is, I won’t be free for another week.

So here I am. I walk up to his front door nervously. Very little light is coming through the windows, but I can hear the TV booming. We planned to watch Thor, so maybe he has already started it. As I wait for him to answer the door, something catches my eye through the glazing.

What is that? A huge fish tank? Why is it brown? Oh, God, he’s going to chop me up and put me in his fish tank. I knew this was a bad idea. I KNEW this was a bad idea...

My internal struggle, “to run or not to run,” is interrupted when Isaac answers the door.
Well hello, handsome fish tank killer.
Oh, uh, I mean, “Hi.”

I reluctantly enter his house. He lives with his brother, who, at the moment, is conveniently away at work for the night. Entering the living room, I notice he has MULTIPLE fish tanks. Four, to be exact. Thankfully, the others’ water is clear, convincing me that no unsuspecting victims now reside in them. We sit down and start chatting. We discuss our days and the many grievances we have towards the public education system. I muster up the courage to ask about the brown fish tank. At this, he laughs and explains that he has recently added real driftwood to the tank's setup. Whew. The conversation shifts to our personal lives. He tells me of his many adventures traveling to sing. He shows me souvenirs from all over the world. As we talk he tells me some of the most interesting stories about people he has known, things he has done, and finally, one beautiful tale of a close friend he lost to cancer. The emotion on his face when talking about Maura tells me that Isaac is a person who loves his friends and family passionately and would do anything for them. My heart hurts and smiles for this truly unique man sitting in front of me.

After four hours, we realize that watching Thor is no longer an option, and I decide to go home and get some sleep. Isaac, respectful but sweet, gives me a long hug at the door of my car. On the way home, I text Jenn and tell her that I’ve not only made it out alive, but that tonight was absolutely fantastic. As I’m telling her all about the night, I feel the faintest hint of a spark run through my body. I think I might like this guy.

~Chapter 3 Coming Soon!~

If you've made it this far, your reward is this link to a how-to dance video my friend Cassi and I made in college and thus an explanation as to why I remained single until age 24.
How to shake your salt