navy blue

"I'm so glad you're here, Anne. If you weren't I should be blue...very blue...almost navy blue. Dreams and make-believes are all very well in the daytime and the sunshine, but when dark and storm come they fail to satisfy. One wants real things then."

- Miss Lavendar Smith, Anne of Avonlea

springfield

1 + 1 = 1

A co-worker asked me if things were different now that I was married.

I replied, "Well, I wake up to a man sleeping beside me, for one."

Not many people pretend to understand that Andrew and I hadn't lived together before we were married. Fewer believe that we hadn't slept together. So, yes, there are a few changes now that we're married; more (and more commonplace) than most of my co-workers could imagine.

1. Sometimes the bathroom smells of cologne.
2. Sometimes the kitchen smells of bleach.
3. There are boxers in the laundry.
4. I'm always well-fed.
5. Even at lunch the next day.
6. If a clap of thunder wakes me from my sleep I feel a hand on my arm letting me know it's OK.

While researching the first year of marriage I came across some of the reasons why, however, there are perhaps fewer changes than my co-workers would expect. Considering our first date consisted of us delving into deep heart issues, our second date had us both in tears, within the first six months we had discussed birth control and over the course of our two-and-a-half relationship we had mastered the completion of a teacher's college education, an extensive road trip, a period of unemployment, two Freshwinds, the birth of a 24/7 week of prayer, the birth of a live worship CD, a parental hospitalization, a pastoral resignation, fourteen (or is it fifteen?) weddings (four of which we stood for), the amalgamation of our cell groups, and leading the youth of an internationally renowned church, I figure we had covered more than most couples do in the first year of marriage. We had laughed together, cried together, prayed together, fought together, traveled together, plotted together, driven together, walked together and breathed the same air for long enough that marriage was a pretty easy step, all things considered. Being that we had grown into best friends somewhere along the way there haven't been many differences in my life since we've been married.

Except, of course, for the fact that I wake up to a man sleeping beside me.

announcements

I just realized that our wedding made the TACF video announcements the Sunday before. We were so busy we didn't have time to watch them until now. Thanks, Salivation Nations!

i'm wife

I ’M wife; I ’ve finished that,
That other state;
I ’m Czar, I ’m woman now:
It ’s safer so.
How odd the girl’s life looks
Behind this soft eclipse!
I think that earth seems so
To those in heaven now.
This being comfort, then
That other kind was pain;
But why compare?
I ’m wife! stop there! - Emily Dickinson (1830–86)

one month

1 month.
30 days.
730 hours.
43,829 minutes.
2,649,743 seconds.

I'm not sure how I managed to score the best man on the planet but somehow I did. And in one month's time I'll be able to call this man - this kind, handsome, Godly, benevolent, strong, gracious, sexy, brave, intelligent, witty, confident, charming, intuitive man - my husband.

"Things aren't so tangible and sayable
as people would usually have us believe;
most experiences are unsayable,
they happen in a space that no word has ever entered."
- Ranier Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

april showers

April's a funny month.

It's full of hope and promise and expectation. And change. And uncertainty.

A lovely friend of mine was lamenting, recently, what we have now deemed The Anne Syndrome which is taken from the lines:

Anne Shirley: Why do people have to grow up and marry, change?
Gilbert Blythe: Oh, you'd change. If someone ever admitted that they were head over heels for you, you'd be swept off your feet in a moment.
Anne Shirley: I would not, and I defy anyone who would try and make me change.

Tomorrow marks five weeks until the wedding. The thought of being married makes me feel all gooey inside - like when you're at the top of a very high part in a roller coaster, about to plummet, and you can't squeeze the railing in front of you because your hands just won't work.

I researched past Aprils on my blog and discovered that in 2006, when I was allowing my heart to thaw and learning to trust, and in 2007, when I was contemplating a life spent with Andrew and wondering when it would happen, I was no more sure of my future or what it would hold that I am now.

April is unusual. Crocuses are sprouting up beside dirty, leftover mounds of snow. The change in sunlight invigorates and confuses us. We're ecstatic about the warmer weather, but hesitant to put our parkas into storage yet.

To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time for every purpose, under heaven
- The Byrds, inspired by Ecclesiastes 1:8