lend me your hand

Time spent just with my husband seems to diminish with every passing week. We both spend most our time working, and when the weekends fall, we do our best to fit in everything we possibly can. The memories are wonderful and the friendships invaluable, but we also know we need time spent just with each other.

That's how we spent the majority of the weekend. Just him and I. We both had to work for several hours on Saturday, but once we were done working, we left the city as quickly as possible.

 

I feel so refreshed now. It's amazing what 24 hours in Oklahoma paradise can acomplish.


The getaway was at a local bed and breakfast called The Guest House. The owners advertise it as Norman, OK's most comlete bed and breakfast. And it is. There's a pool, a wooded trail to explore, a full kitchen, an amazing walk-in shower and jacuzzi tub, and the Oklahoma paradise.

We enjoyed every square inch of the bed and breakfast - starting the weekend off with a dip in the pool and then finishing it this afternoon with a hike through the wooded trail.

We contemplated going out for dinner, and I went so far as to pack a nice dress. But settling onto the couch to watch a movie, eat pizza, and drink beer sounded better than dinner and drinks at a local wine bar. So we did the one thing we never seem to do at home: relax.

The time spent in Oklahoma paradise provided a perfect backdrop for us to reconnect and discuss the future. So much is up in the air as we work to put our current house on the market and contemplate where we want to live next and what we want next out of our life.

We know that no matter what happens it will be God's plan. I have so much more faith and confidence in that. Because while we do want to move on from this house, we can also take comfort in staying here if that is the plan. We've put a lot of work into the house recently, and it's made the house feel so much more like a home. Crazy what lots of elbow grease and focused attention can do.

Spending the weekend with my husband made me appreciate the life we have now and also made me appreciate the life we will have in a year or two or twenty.

We laughed more this weekend that we have in quite some time. We cuddled more and held hands more. We kissed more. And we talked so much more.

Our dreams are the same in many ways. The future we want is the same. How we both want to get there might be different, and there are lots of discussions currently happening (and also waiting to happen) about where we want our future to occur. But the gist of it all is in line with both of our wants and needs.

During many of our talks, he asked about timelines. How quickly would I want to pursue adoption or foster care? My answer was when I am 30 - so in three years. Because while we are much closer to where we need to be, we still have so much left to figure out. I feel like we're getting closer each and every day but need to survive our 20's before adding more to it all.

We'll get there. Whether there includes a new house in 2012 or not. Whether there means staying here or moving miles away. Whether there means writing for money or not yet pursuing that dream. Whether there entails hectic weeks of work or somehow diminishing the time spent working. We'll get there - just he and I and our two dogs (who stayed at home while we discovered Oklahoma paradise).

(title from "awake my soul" by mumford and sons)

it's been so long

One of the most difficult things, I think, about our current situation is how stuck we feel. I can not fully speak for my husband, though I am aware of his opinion on most things, but I feel trapped at this particular times. Many of our friends have plans for the three-day weekend. The plans include road trips, barbeques, outtings at the lake, and other fun-filled events.

I understand that eventually, hopefully, we will be able to enjoy those things. But currently we are stuck.

I have three days off work, but my husband unfortunately has three days filled of work. His current field requires staff to work 24-hours-a-day and 7-days-a-week. We wouldn't be able to afford a trip or fun-filled event otherwise, but if he worked in a different field, we could at least stare at one another instead of just at the dogs and our dusty, dirty hardwood floors.

Still, I am intent on making the most of the weekend. My plans include cleaning our dusty, dirty hardwood floors (and the rest of our dusty, dirty house), watching more episodes of The OC than is healthy, further work on my novel, napping with the dogs, and hopefully enjoying some time with friends.

I am also hoping to find a park or outdoor spot not overrun with children where I can spend some quality time journaling, praying, and writing down scripture.

I've kept a journal for as long as I can remember both the paper kind as well as the livejournal  kind. I also had a few other personal websites as a teenager that chronicled my life and hosted a few choice pieces of fiction. As far as I know, those websites have been swallowed by the Internet and will hopefully never be found again. If they are, I hope they are discussed when I am famous enough to laugh off the embarassingly emo words while discussing my life and inspiration with whoever will be the next Oprah. Please, Lord, let it happen that way.

Most of my paper journals are half empty and tucked into a box in my parents house. Those kept on livejournal or other websites were abandoned for a new layout and site name whenever I grew antsy. The new, current paper journal I now have, however, I am determined to fill with words, with verses, with sermons from Frontline Church, with thoughts on writing and etcetra. I want a place to come back to in a year where I can see how both my heart and my handwriting changed.

Also, I want to be able to follow my progression of prayer. I know that it has progressed quite a bit from God where are You to God it is so good to feel You, but I want to be able to truly see the progression. I also want to be able to see how prayers were answered and when. I also want to be able to hold onto the verses and quotes that got me through both the difficult and easy times.

Because so much is changing. I have written about much of it here, but also much of it I have kept to myself. My marriage is changing. My relationship with my family is changing. My relationship with myself is also changing. And many of those changes need to be understood on paper first before being understood on the Internet.

I may not have an adventure to a far off place planned for the weekend, but at least I can continue to adventure of discovering who I am in this world and who I am in Christ. I'll make sure to report on what I find when the weekend is over. Until then, I'll do my best to continue the story of us.

(title from "missing you" by nick thurmond)

life ain't always what you think it ought to be

I struggle with goodbyes, especially when I am saying goodbye to my mom. A lump forms in my throat, and I almost always drive away with tears rolling down my cheeks. After years of my living in Oklahoma first for school and now as a married woman, I thought saying goodbye would be easier, but it's not.

When I left my parents house this morning, it was much the same. There was a very large lump in my throat. I kept most the tears at bay but a few managed to escape and fall down my cheeks. I'd done relatively well in May when my mom visited and I drove away from the airport without crying, but this time.. I let myself cry. I knew there would be no way of stopping all the tears.

I was in Texas for five nights and four full days. I spent time with my dad, who I hadn't seen since Thanksgiving, and my mom. We ate Mexican food, sushi, Mediterranean food, steak, and smoked chicken. My parents also held a seafood boil of shrimp and lobster. I attended yoga with my mom, which I am still recovering from, and we spent a few hours by the pool. There was some shopping and lots of reading. I also spent the evening hours sipping Pinot Grigot and watching television with my parents.

The time away was what I needed. And I did need it. It gave me the chance to spend time with my parents and also with my brother. The original four, if you will. I also had the chance to fall apart with my parents present. I've fallen apart so many times on the phone with my mom, wishing she were close enough to Oklahoma City that I could drive to her house for a hug whenever I needed it.

There's a strength that I get from being around my parents, and strength is what I need most right now. It's what I am searching for and praying I find. It's also what I am lacking right now.

I need strength to fight right now. We have so much going on that this is not the time to lay down and allow things to just happen. I know that, but I don't feel like I have the strength to fight back the way I need to. I want to lay down, but I won't. I will continue searching for strength.

I found the strength to drive back to Oklahoma City. It was a difficult drive both because of the length and because of how much I miss my parents and miss Texas. 

I never thought I would miss Texas, especially not Houston, but I do. I really do. I missed pieces of my life in Oklahoma City and those important people in Oklahoma City and my dogs, but I didn't miss Oklahoma City the way I miss Texas. I guess Texas is a bigger piece of my life than I ever really thought.

This realization is unraveling quite a bit for me right now. It's making me question some things, forcing me to ask some difficult questions about what I want from my life, about where my true passion rest, and it's making me see that I do not have answers to most the questions.

I will never have answers to every question. When I do find some answers, there will inevitably be more questions. I know that, and I welcome that. But I am ready to find answers to my current questions; I think we both are.

(title from "if i die young" by the band perry)

finally ready to be here

In my twenty-five years of life, I've lived in four states. I've traveled to eight countries. I've seen so much of the beauty that the world has to offer.

I spent just under two years in California. I was a baby then. I didn't like the water. I lived in a house I do not remember with two parents and a beautiful yellow labrador retriever who enjoyed eating the fruit that fell in our backyard.

Then I lived in New Jersey. I remember that our house was "upside down" with the kitchen on the second story. My brother was born in New Jersey. I made friends with a set of twins. I dressed up as a mermaid for Halloween. I hid behind the couch of the twins' house the day my family moved to Texas.

Then, it was off to Texas. This is where I grew up. I picked the smaller bedroom with wood floors and clown wallpaper, though my parents tried to persuade me to take the larger, carepeted bedroom. We later took off all the clown wallpaper and painted the walls a light pink. Then years later we painted the walls a pepto bismol pink and sponged the walls with a lighter pink. For years, I was the only little girl on the street. I did my best to keep up with the boys by playing football and cowboys/indians.

I grew up in Texas. I found myself and lost myself. Then found myself again and eventually lost myself again. I made friends. I rode the bus to school, something I was not able to do in New Jersey. I swam in the pool in our backyard. I had sleepovers with friends. I stayed up chatting online and writing. I thought I fell in-love in Texas, but I didn't know what love meant. I don't think anyone really does at that age.

After a year of college in Nacogdoches, TX, I spent three weeks in Europe and then moved to Oklahoma, where I now live.

Through these moves, there has been one constant. My constant has been Michigan. Both my parents were born and raised in Michigan; both left after graduating college and neither moved back. I always hoped to experience Michigan as a resident, but it was not meant to be.

My relationship with Michigan is one of summers spent swimming in cold lake water, of walking into town for ice cream, of sleeping in the converted attic with sheets sticking to me some nights and shivering under the sheets some nights.

The cottage began as a one-bedroom home. My grandmother visited the home with her parents as a child for long weekends and week vacations. Eventually, my mother visited the home with her parents and siblings for long weekends and week vacations. My grandparents later purchased the cottage. It now has a bedroom and two bathrooms on the main level. There are narrow, creaky stairs to walk up that open to an attic. There are three twin-sized beds and a full-size bed in the attic.

There's a guest house close to the garage with a bed, a sink, and a toilet. The water only runs cold, and there's no heater or air conditioner in the guest cottage.

This is my favorite place in the world. New York City might have bright lights and Broadway. Paris offers the Eifeel Tower. But I would much rather be in Suttons Bay, Michigan.

I see it more clearly that my childhood home. I hear the creaks of the stairs and the waves of the lake. I smell the fresh corn and the mint and the plump tomatoes. I taste the clean air. I crave the homemade ice cream.

It's my home in so many ways. When I am there, my heart is at rest. I feel at peace, like I belong. It's the place that inspires me to write. It's where I want to be almost all the time. It's my Northern Star, the guiding light that brings me home when I lose my way and forget what is the most important in life.

I learned to daydream here. I wore hula skirts with my grandmother and pretended the creek was Hawaii. I went on adventures with friends, exploring the secret passages in the houses aroun the cottage. I scraped me knees crawling through the sewer system. I kayaked from the cottage to the library and walked the boardwalk. I made friends here with myself and with others. I combined my past and present with the past and present of my family. I pretended like I could play the piano, like I could sing. I dressed up in my great-grandmother's clothes. I watched the weather change in the span of five minutes just like I so often changed.

Suttons Bay has grown. But it has stayed the same. Just like I have grown but also stayed the same. It is my heart. It is my guiding light. It is the one place I know will always be there. It envelopes me like a hooded sweatshirt just out of the dryer.

Sometimes, if the wind blows right in Oklahoma and the clouds cover the sun, it feels like I am there. And I let that feeling wash over me again and again.

(title from "been a long day" by rosi galan)