Chai Chai Train

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

The Musings of Marriage

So, I have officially been married for a little over a month now and wedded bliss is immensely...blissful :)
So many things we have learned about each other, taught each other, and celebrated in and about each other. It truly is the greatest life, even when it sometimes stinks and we get our feathers ruffled.

So what have I learned as a baby wife? Lots. way more than I ever thought I would. Some comical, some way more real than I am comfortable with, and some things I would like to keep hidden forever. But I thought I might share some, for your enjoyment. But I must warn you...its not pretty.

If you forget to put out meat early in the day, it is much harder to "whip up a meal" when you suddenly realize it's 7:00 and your husband is starving.
Sometimes you get to do things together that other people would find silly, like coloring together, but its OK because it's just you and your very best friend.
Cleaning is the putz but it sure is alot more fun when you get to do it together :)
The Lord provides, every time.
The cliche' about men not putting the toilet seat down...ABSOLUTELY TRUE. (you will sit in water at 4:00am. And you will not like it. I promise.)
Cuddling before you go to sleep, and in the morning...My favorite thing ever.
Cuddling at 3:30am when you are both radiating furnaces and, dear goodness why do they invent blankets, and you feel sticky and gross, and dear Lord stop touching me....Yeah, not a fan.
I love building a home for my husband, and having him feeling comfortable in OUR nest together.
Husbands have weird smells.
My husband puts up with an insane amount of crazy, nagging, goofiness, imperfection from me and is so full of grace.
Two people make a ridiculous amount of laundry.
Hearing your husband call you his wife, will make you beam with pride and ask God how on earth you did anything to deserve such a privilege.
I discovered an obsession with fixing wrinkles in the sheets. My husband finds this immensely humorous.
Sometimes you stay up really late talking about the dumbest things.
Every day I love this man more, and I think how silly I was when I thought I loved him yesterday.

Well, that is my first learnings of this long journey. I can't wait for the many more years of discovery, and being married to the most wonderful man I know. I don't need a prince charming, or a shining knight, I am content with my quiet, man of logic and with loving him for the rest of my days (even when he leaves the toilet seat up ;)

Sunday, July 20, 2014

The Struggle Bus

Struggle. It's a perilous word. It causes an inner wince and an almost palatable tension. I try to shy away from the word, to avoid it's defining grasp but it still hovers in the air like a stench.

Why is that? This is a concept I have mulled over for several days now. A thought I have pondered and simmered on. And I can only resign myself to the realization that I have trained myself that way. I taught myself to hate the term, the definition, the concept of struggle. I have clouded my reasoning with tales of perfection, with lies of having it all together somehow, when the reality is as far from the truth as it could possibly be.

I struggle. And as much or as little as that is shocking to anyone, it is the truth. Most days I feel like I am treading water to just stay afloat, like I am gasping for every breathe. And somehow I have convinced myself that it's a bad thing. I have told myself to pretend, to give a facade that it's all ok. That I am at ease and without the fight. Which let me tell you is wrong. So far from right that it's zip code is unidentifiable.
I struggle. And even as I write this, I can't believe the strong and culminating desire I have to defend it. To somehow convince you that are reading that it's not that big of a deal. I slipped and told you I struggle, and now I have to back pedal. "It's not really a struggle, it's just a rough patch." "I'll be fine, I'll get over it." "I just have to be strong enough."

Gosh, I hate that word. Enough. I wish I was enough. If only I was enough. Smart enough. Skinny enough. Pretty enough. Good enough. Enough enough enough enough ENOUGH. For what? When did that happen? When did that word become a standard? What even is enough? And yet that word blares in my head all day, every day, every second. Why? It's because I have defined it by giving myself a line. If I cross this line of perfection. That is enough. I am enough. I struggle with being enough. And yet if you asked me "enough for what?" I couldn't tell you because I don't know. I have a wonderful fiancé who loves me. I have a family who supports me. I have many friends that love me, and a few of those friends that know me and all my flaws and would still take a bullet for me. I have a God who has never left me even though I fail him constantly. So what is enough? If I am honest, enough means I don't struggle. If I'm honest, enough means easy. Well, here is honesty; i struggle.

You ready for more honesty? Here it is: I struggle with dishonesty, irony I know. I lie. I exaggerate. About the dumbest things too. I am so insecure in myself that I decide for people how they feel about me and that I am not good enough and so I have to create something different so that you will like that better. It is a serious temptation for me. Whenever I am telling a story, I decide that I'm boring you, so I make it bigger. Sometimes I have to remain completely silent, or hold my breathe because it is so strong of a fight for me to not lie. I got asked to leave school for a semester because I lied, and I hurt a lot of people. I fight everyday with this. [ I have erased this part twice because the thought of anyone knowing this struggle makes me panic. But you know what? It is a part of me. I wish it wasn't but it is and I struggle with it.]

I struggle with anxiety. I worry about things and cry over things out of my control. I panic and hyperventilate at not knowing what will happen. [ like what people with think of me after reading what I wrote above.] I have to count to 10, and recite verses to not throw myself into the nearest wall sometimes.

I struggle with insecurity, big time. Like humongo, gargantuan, big fat enormous dose of insecurity. I am loud, and obnoxious, and have problems with personal space. I talk too much, and want to be the center of attention. I want you to like me, and I'm aggressive abut it. I cry at night sometimes in my bed because I feel like I am the most inadequate person around? I struggle with the thought that I am ugly, that I'm fat, and stupid. I struggle that I am inadequate at my job, at my major, my minor, at my friendships, at my relationship, at my future marriage, at everything. Sometimes I change myself, without thinking about it, if it means you like me better. I'm insecure. Boom, I said it.

I struggle with lust. Not much else to say other than, I have to fight to keep my mind pure. And let me tell you, keeping your mind pure(or body pure) while engaged to a man that fulfills your needs and loves you and happens to be absolutely, undeniable handsome is a STRUGGLE. But I do it.

Do I sound pathetic or what? so what's the point of all this confession? Please stick with me for a minute. Well other than to be real and honest, it's to say that I'm proud of my struggle. Yes, I said it. I'm proud of it. Because as much as it stinks and sucks to struggle, it means I'm fighting. Oh! More shocking statements; struggle is a good thing. Yes! Because Satan wants to convince us that to struggle means you aren't strong enough (there's that word again) Which is totally and absolutely true!! Thus, we need a savior! If we didn't struggle, we wouldn't need saving. So I wake up in the morning and I fight! I exert myself to not lie, I exhaust myself keeping my mind pure, I gasp for breathe to stay calm and trust it's all going to be ok, I crawl on my hands and knees to be secure in my heart. Do I fail? I DO, EVERYDAY! But I try. I don't give in. And I STRUGGLE, not for myself but for a God who loves me and died for me. . And one day, I will say "I have fought the good fight. I have finished the course, I have kept the good faith" - 2 Timothy 4:7
So, think what you will about me now that you know my flaws. Hate me or love me, judge me or don't. But I challenge you, to struggle.
Love you all. Thanks for reading.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

You is Valuable…

Something that has really been on my mind and heart recently is the concept of Value. How we place value on ourselves, and others and how that impacts the way we feel about ourselves.

How do we measure the value of an item that we find in a store? We measure its value by the Quality of the item, and by the Function of the item. If an item is good quality, sturdy, holds up, if it performs its function or purpose that it was originally meant for, then we deem that item valuable for purchase.

People are the same. No, we are not items to be purchased. But we place upon ourselves a value, that each moment in our lives measure. Friends, School, Relationships, Work, all aspects of our lives we use to evaluate how “valuable” we are in society. Sometimes we put labels on ourselves and others that make the value of a person seem greater, or lesser but in reality the factors used to measure their value have never changed.

Like when friends, some who even claim to be your “best friend”, tell you “I am always here for you.” But when a time comes when you really do need them, and suddenly they are too busy, the have moved on, they found someone “better”, or they really just never cared? Or maybe you feel like you never really had friends. See, we place a label on ourselves that we are “DISPOSABLE” and a “LOSER”.

Or when you sit in a room, and watch all the members of the opposite sex scanning the room for perspective companions, and no one pauses for even a second glance at you. You are perpetually single, and everyone around you has someone. Or you can get a date, but no one wants to stick around and it makes you feel “UGLY”, “UNLOVABLE”, and “DIFFERENT”.

What about when you get that paper back, or a math assignment and the grade you made was less than perfect or just plain lousy. If you tried your hardest, and did your best, but you didn’t quite grasp that concept or you misunderstood the question, or just simply didn’t know and you get that grade back and you feel so sick, you feel “STUPID”.

Or in work, and extra-curricular activities. Aren’t as athletic as your teammates? Didn’t make as many goals? Can’t sing as well as your friends? Didn’t get cast in the upcoming play? Didn’t get that promotion? Made a mistake on the paperwork, and had to start over? Aren’t as fast as your coworkers? All these things can make you feel “SMALL” and “INADEQUATE” and “PATHETIC”

Now all of those labels alone lessen our perceived value, and when you have more than one of those labels you can begin to believe that you have no value, or that you are “WORTHLESS”. But really, has your Quality ever changed? When your “friends” ditch you, are YOU the one whose quality changed? No. They were not as sturdy as they claimed; their word didn’t hold up, their quality changed. When you don’t get as great of a grade as you wanted, did you fail to achieve your Function? No. You still did your best, and you are still learning. When you can’t find a guy or a girl to snuggle up with, has your quality or function ever wavered? No. You are unique and rare, and it takes someone special to see the jewel that is you. Your value stays the same! Your labels change, but your value stays true.

I wrote in my journal in September, during a very dark part of my life “Why am I doomed to be a Dixie cup, in a world full of people looking for glass…”

The only problem with that logic is that no one ever asked the Dixie cup to be a glass. They are both vessels. Both serving different functions, made out of different materials. Is a good quality Dixie cup less valuable than a good quality glass? No! Why? Because they both serve their own functions, and they do their best and both with good quality materials. They are both VALUABLE! Just in different ways. Just as you are no less valuable than any other person.

You are quality; you function just as you were made to. Friends? They will fail you and make you feel disposable. Work will make you feel inadequate. Relationships will never reach your expectations. School will leave you hopeless and feeling stupid. But you have purpose. You are unique and rare. You are…wait for it… VALUABLE!

And I hope you wake up every morning, and you remember how important you are.

So go be a Dixie cup! Just be the best darn Dixie cup you can possibly be.