Dang it, Craig!

I know I have a lot of catching up to do. I promise to post about meeting my nephew and this summer's adventures. But for now, I need to talk about something that may make you laugh, cringe, and/or shake your head in wonderment over our stupidity.

That's right. I want to talk about the joys of adulthood--particularly that wonderful, stomach-dropping moment when you realize (like Gob in "Arrested Development") that "I've made a huge mistake" and all responsibility rests on you and you alone. Okay, so it's not that bad. Let me start from the beginning.

For the past few months of Super Husband's "freedom" from studying, we've been getting serious about putting the finishing touches on our house. This has included yard work, reorganizing closets, and extensive Craigslisting. That last one has been the source of the most grief. Super Husband spends almost an hour a day browsing the listings and making offers on the furniture we've been waiting on. Somehow, we managed to buy ourselves a new vacuum in the process, but that's beside the point.

The point is, for all the work and consideration we put into the searching, we have very little to show for it...until yesterday. Late on Monday night, Super Husband says he's found a buffet! It's small, it looks light, and it's real wood so we can refinish the light pine with a stain that matches our dining room! "It even has a lip around the back and sides to keep dishes from falling off!" Great! I took a brief glance at it, thought the price was reasonable (given what we'd seen so far) and liked that it was in the same town where Super Husband works!

Begin phase 2: We make an offer, seller accepts said offer, and Super Husband plans and executes a lunch break run to pick it up! So far so good. When I come home from work, I open the garage excitedly to find...a baby-changing table!

Wait. Is there something he's trying to tell me? Am I pregnant? (No, for the record. No.) I kind of chuckled at first and took a closer look. Yes, it's a baby-changing table. Complete with drawers and a divider for holding diapers. When Super Husband comes home, I make a joke about it and his face drops. He'd paid extra to have it delivered, and upon loading the guy's truck he realized how heavy it was. He said he was having second thoughts at that point, and when the seller added "it makes a great baby dresser too" he was confused, since they claimed to have used it as a buffet table. Not wanting to back out then, he went through with it.

Laughter aside, we stood in our garage, staring at the large, glossy, pine baby-changing table. We'd paid way to much for it. We found out we can't refinish it because, although the drawers and front are solid pine, the sides are veneer. So, we're going to have to try to sell it again. (No Baby Mottet on the way in the near future, and I can't justify hanging onto it until then!) But I have a feeling we're going to have to cut our losses. It's work to post things, wait for offers, and coordinate pick ups. We'll probably lose money, not to mention sleep, over this thing. Dang it, Craig and your stupid list!

This "too-bad-you've-been-bamboozled" moment will pass and I'm sure we'll laugh about it someday. It's just one of many home-owner/newlywed mistakes I'm sure we'll make in our lifetime. That said...I still wish it hadn't happened.

Soooo...Expecting a baby? Have a little one already? Need a nice piece of furniture on which to change him or her? Call me.

#7 Sew a Quilt (+ Thoughts on Being an Aunty)

Confession: I began this project before "Sew a quilt" made it on my 100 list. But it was still a dream of mine to see it finished! My two attempts at T-shirt quilts have resulted in a paper grocery bag full of cut up T-shirts and no quilt...yet. So when I found out my sister was pregnant, I also found the perfect excuse to start a REAL quilt.

Living 3,000 miles away from my "PregoSis" (as I promptly nicknamed her in her first trimester), I figured my baby niece or nephew will need something to snuggle up in as a substitute for an Aunty Hug. That's when I began my search for the perfect baby quilt pattern. It didn't take long. (Remember? I work for a quilting/sewing/knitting/crochet/crafting publisher...) I ended up sewing a miniature version of a quilt a coworker actually designed! Simple square blocks with appliqued clouds and a bright red bird fit the baby shower theme of "Showers of Blessing" (raindrops/cloud theme) perfectly!

It's the sappy sort of thing one of our authors might write, but I truly felt like I was sewing a bit of love into each stitch. Even the crooked quilting and very-visible binding stitches perfectly resemble "quirky aunty." I'm really happy how it turned out and I couldn't wait to give it to PregoSis at her baby shower! All her guests signed their name to the label so Baby can see how much he or she is loved.

So this post comes with a double whammy--a goal reached and musings on another life milestone. I'm going to be an aunt! My big sister, my BFF and guinea pig is once again blazing the trail into the unknown! Our family's first grandchild and niece/nephew on both sides. It's been hard to let it truly sink in, considering I've only seen my PregoSis twice in person since she shared the news. Her baby bump was still small then. Now she's beautifully round and glowing! I got to feel Baby kick before his or her miraculous entrance into the world. Surreal, isn't it?

I always thought I'd be there to welcome my niece or nephew as soon as I got the call! Now...well, I'll have to celebrate and cry tears of joy out here and save my kisses and snuggles for Baby when we go out again this summer. Baby will be a month old then. I hate the thought of having to "spoil baby from afar," or becoming "that crazy aunt and uncle out in Washington." Hopefully our annual or biannual visits will let us become familiar faces in Baby's life. :-( Man, this is just depressing me! My heart longs to pop over to see my sister send her baby off for his or her first day of school! Or to be there for recitals or concerts, sports games and birthday parties. We may be able to see some, but it won't be the same.

Enough melodrama...for now. I'm thrilled to be an aunty. And I absolutely love seeing my sister's life bloom so beautifully. Seven years ago, one of the darkest years my family has experienced, I remember pleading with God to let my sister's heart be whole again, so she could love and be loved, that she would joyfully live out the life He had planned for her, and that she'd get to realize those dreams that were seemingly dashed. You know what? He answered! A hundred times better than I could've imagined! I love my "sworn brother" (doesn't that sound more epic than "brother-in-law"?) and the life they've built together. I know they'll be fantastic parents--the super cool kind! And I'm 100% positive I'll burst into tears at the sight of my beautiful sister holding her child for the first time (Attention family: I demand pictures of this blessed event!).

This kid is going to know he (or she) is loved! No doubt about that.

#3 Witness a Miracle

I won't pretend I didn't steal this one from A Walk to Remember. Yes, I recalled the movie/book when I was putting together my 100 list, and I added "Witness a Miracle" because I knew I wanted to witness not just a romanticized, Nicholas Sparks version of a miracle ("You're my angel," and life is full of tiny miracles) but a mind-blowing, New Testament kind of miracle. The kind that makes you stop in awe and recognize the power of God. I've already seen many of those--the changed life of an ex-con, complete healing of my Grandmother's cancer, the forgiveness of my own sin, just to name a few--but I found myself still longing for MORE! More of God's power at work in the world, in my life and in the lives of those around me, and in His church.

I added this to my 100 list so I'd be on the lookout. I realized I'm not the sort of believer who struggles with "Can God do this?" so much as with asking Him to do more, and to allow me to see it happen! Rather than just holding on to that longing deep within my heart, to witness miracles and even perhaps to do them for Jesus' glory, I'm working on expressing that longing to Him. Someone recently confirmed that they recognized that desire in me and felt the Holy Spirit was going to show me and work through me. It's encouraged me to keep that willingness to be used and to keep asking for more.

That said, I don't think this is the only #3 I'll be sharing with you as the years go by. But it's pretty exciting to me! About two months ago, our lead pastor shared a vision with us, one that has been confirmed by many, that Jesus wanted us to purchase the building the church has been renting and completely rebuild it. Not because "new is nice" and certainly not because church is about the building, but because we're growing! But it can't and won't continue if we remain where we are. There's not enough space for us all to come, worship, and learn together. And the current setup isn't very welcoming to new people. Bottom line: Jesus wants more people for His Church. He says build a new building; we'll build a new building.

Did I mention the price tag? About 10 million dollars to purchase the building and construct a new one in the lot. We needed 6 million of that just to keep moving forward. Now, we're not a mega-church. We're about 500, mostly made up of college students and young professionals who don't make huge salaries. Where was that 6 million going to come from? I smile to think of the way my heart instantly seemed to respond, "God will provide the ram." (Check out Genesis 22 if you don't get it.) My heart may have sprung up with that faith at the first, but that "ram" still required a lot of fervent prayer and faith on the part of the church. We prayed and fasted, knowing the kind of sacrifice it would mean, what God might ask us to give. We didn't hold a "fundraiser" or do a big advertising campaign--just a few, brief reminders on Sunday mornings that we'd take up an offering in a month. That's it...one month.

March 5th rolled around. The tithes and offerings baskets were passed, just like any other Sunday. When everything was counted...

...there was just over 6 million dollars.

It's a miracle! God provided for His church. I like to think I never doubted it would happen, but then I wonder how I would've responded if it hadn't. Would I still have continued with faith, knowing God would provide whatever was necessary to do what He has asked? Or would I have just shrugged and said to myself, "Miracles like that just don't happen anymore, not like in Biblical times." I tend to think it would've been the latter. That's been my response far too often when things don't turn out how I hoped. So I'm shaking off that attitude--Lord knows this miracle has certainly bolstered my faith and given me encouragement to keep asking for more--and getting excited for even more miracles on the way!

100 List Fanfare

I promised you a "revamp" in the new year, didn't I? Well, this is it...sort of. I imagined a total blog make-over, but in the end, all I really wanted to add was my 100 list. I was inspired by friends whose own blogs include this list of dreams/goals--a "bucket list" of sorts, but not because I feel my life would lack meaning without attempting the "extraordinary." Quite the opposite! My life was given all the meaning it needs when Jesus saved me. These things are just adventures I'd love to have in addition to the grand adventure I've already been set upon. They're the sorts of things I'd love to see happen and then look back at this list and say, "How cool is that? I dreamed this long before it was reality!" Or maybe this list will provide a bit of inspiration when I'm given the opportunity to choose an adventure. Either way, it's full of fancies mixed with a few heart desires (the obvious ones being "having a baby" and "publishing a novel," I think). I'll try to post about the journey and the achievement/fulfillment of those dreams as they happen, if ever. Go ahead and click on the tab at the top of the page to take a look!

This blog will still be called "The Squirrel and Student Society," because the terms, remarkably, lend themselves well to the 100 list. Here are some definitions from Merriam-Webster.com:

Squirrel: to store up for future use —often used with away <squirrel away some money>

Squirrelly: nutty, curious

Student: scholar, learner, one who studies; an attentive and systematic observer <a student of politics>

Society: companionship or association with one's fellows : company

I'll admit that I'm a little "squirrelly" to begin with, and this blog is a place where I "squirrel away" moments, thoughts, and experiences (personally, I'm working on collecting moments more than things...but I've always been a collector of sorts). I don't know if I can classify myself as a "systematic observer" but I definitely have an unquenchable thirst for learning. Finally, this place is indeed a society where I hope we can enjoy companionship and continue "association."

So there you have it! The not-really-new-or-improved Squirrel and Student Society. If there's anything on my list you have advice for or a lead on--perhaps you know someone who teaches Indian folk dance in the Seattle area, or you have some frequent flier miles (or first-class upgrade) you'd like to be rid of? *wink*--please let me know. That's the thing about this society--comments and thoughts are always welcome.

Home Between the Raindrops

Today is our wedding anniversary. While year one was very much defined by becoming (a wife, a member of a new church, a long-distance daughter, a daughter-in-law, a Washingtonian), year two seemed to be about belonging. On our anniversary last year, we talked a lot about our new life together--how we'd settled into it, what's ahead, etc. Super Husband said he really wanted to make this place feel like HOME for me. And through our adventures, both in our "new" house (1 year since we became homeowners!) and away, I'm definitely at home now.

I fell in love with this song when I first heard it on the Olympics last summer. Strangely ironic given the type of year it's been. There's no one else I'd rather "roll down this unfamiliar road" with!

Two years. How'd that happen? Well, there's 24 hours in a day...plus or minus a few when you fly across a few time zones...and 7 days a week...and 52 weeks in a year! Fine, I'll leave the math to Super Husband and get back on topic.

Within the last year, I've learned to delight in a life shared. I love life with my husband more than words can say! Yes, even when I'm grumpy, even when we argue, and even when things feel chaotic. And I love sharing life with the friends and family I have out here on the West Coast, as well as those on the East Coast and everywhere in between! It looks different for every one of them--Super Husband and I share life 24/7, friends and family about 9/7, and all the rest only about 168/8765 or less (that's about a week out of a year, just so you know). No matter how much or how little time I get to spend with each of them, it's a delightful thing.

Now I'm home. waiting for Super Husband to come home from work so we can try that cute little Thai place down the street. That's another thing I've really learned to enjoy this past year: getting to share the little things in life with someone. I felt like I spent the first year of marriage analyzing marriage--what it means, what a godly marriage looks like, how we were doing as a married couple--which is all good, but it sometimes crowded out the sheer wonder of it all! I love having someone to go grocery shopping with, someone to "talk it out" with when my emotions mess with my mind, someone to sit up late with when I can't sleep. It's mind boggling.

On the plane from Boston to Seattle a few weeks ago, I plugged in my headphones to the in-flight radio. It was the first time I heard this song (below), and I smiled in spite of my pain at leaving New England. I smiled because A) walking between raindrops is pretty common in Washington state, B) we were on our way "off into the sunset" with a lot of unknowns before us, C) it reminded me how grateful I was to have my love beside me on that plane. I didn't have to fly back alone and I'm not alone here in my new home. I love walking between the raindrops with him, and no matter how many rainy days come, I'd never want to be anything but his bride. With a prayer and a hope that God's Grace goes with us, we're heading into year three.

Let's Start the New Year Right

This Christmas, I rediscovered the song "Let's Start the New Year Right" by Bing Crosby. I've sort of had a crush on Bing ever since "White Christmas," which I was very lucky to have seen for the first time at the age of two and continue to watch annually. Then I discovered "Holiday Inn," "Bells of St. Mary's," and a bunch of Bing's other music. (Don't worry: Super Husband isn't threatened in the slightest.) Come on, how can you not like a guy with the voice of an angel, blue eyes, and a silly name like "Bing"?! Plus, his music always reminded me of an era I didn't personally experience, but was familiar for my grandparents (and parents, somewhat). Anyway, "Let's Start the New Year Right" (although not the "official Christmas song of 2012"--see last year's post--which was "I'll Be Home for Christmas" obviously) seemed to fit our holiday season pretty well. (You can read the lyrics here, but be sure to take a listen at the bottom of the post.)

One minute to midnight
One minute to go
One minute to say good-bye
Before we say hello

Let's start the new year right
Twelve o'clock tonight
When they dim the light
Let's begin

Kissing the old year out
Kissing the new year in

Let's watch the old year die
With a fond good-bye
And our hopes as high
As a kite

How can our love go wrong if
We start the new year right?

I think we did start the new year right, even though it was far from perfect. On the plane home, after a tremendous visit to New Hampshire for Christmas and New Year's, I thought about what my "post-holiday blog post" should say. Over the course of the week and a half away, I thought about writing about familiar things, settling into life with my family again, being an aunty for the first time (bound to be a blog post eventually), memories of a loved one lost, and the goals I have laid out before me. I could write pages and pages about each of them, but I realized that the all encompassing theme should be about looking forward rather than always behind.

I heard an analogy recently of a windshield and a rear-view mirror. The windshield is much bigger than the mirror, because we ought to be looking forward while we drive, not behind. While this analogy was used to describe forgetting the mistakes, sins, and hurts from the past (from which we've been forgiven and healed from, or are starting to heal from), I almost saw it as a challenge not to glance back on what has been as often.

I'm a sucker for memories, and I love to recall and relive the fun times of the past with my family and friends. But, and I'm pretty sure I've mentioned this before, sometimes that brings me down. Things can't ever be the same. And as much as I enjoy reuniting with old friends and sharing memories, sometimes that only makes me sad and depressed because we can never go back. I struggle with this when I'm away from New England, and just as much when I'm there visiting. Still, I like the idea of the rear-view mirror, because it shows that it's okay to glance back from time to time (at least in this example)...not in longing for where we've been or what we've seen, but in remembrance of what God has done.

We had a shocking glance in the rear-view mirror on New Year's Day at 2am. My mother-in-law called to tell us that her mom passed away unexpectedly. She was seemingly healthy and we looked forward to many more years of her friendship, guidance, and love. Personally, there was so much I still wanted to talk to her about, to get to know her more than our four brief visits allowed--my husband's graduation (back when I was still his "new girlfriend"), a visit to her vacation home in Florida, my sister-in-law's wedding, and then our wedding. There wasn't enough time! But in the grieving that followed, I got to learn more about Grandma and her Christian legacy--one that Super Husband and I are blessed to be a part of! God has done GREAT THINGS through the life of Grandma. And as much as I long to have her here with us, I can rejoice in what's ahead: a great reunion in Heaven, where I know she's with Jesus and my husband's Grandpa, whom I never had the pleasure of meeting in this life.

I'm grateful for the week we had leading up to the news of our loss. There were family parties, games, sit-down dinners, snowball fights, snowman building, and more. It was a Christmas and New Year's Eve to remember! I'm so thankful for all of it...and feel kind of selfish for feeling hungry for more. We got so comfortable being together again--all 6 of us (my parents, us, my sister, and bro-in-law) living under the same roof. I'm anxiously looking forward to our next meeting. For now, it's good to be home.

Better late than never, I wish you all MERRY CHRISTMAS (it truly was) and HAPPY NEW YEAR (it truly will be, Lord willing).

An Unexpected Birthday Gift

On the eve of my 25th birthday, I received an unexpected letter. Perhaps it was somewhat "expected," just long-forgotten. The irony struck my sister and I, as we talked on the phone about how quickly the years have flown by. "Sometimes high school seems not long ago, but then I remember how much things have changed," she said. Just then, I spotted the letter from my former English teacher and was a little confused to see familiar handwriting appearing through the thin envelope, like the vague glimpse of an apparition.

I opened the letter with trembling fingers, excitedly telling my sister what I'd just received--a message from the past. This is what it said: 

June 6, 2006

By the time you read this, a lot of things will probably have changed. You may be married. You'll be done college and you'll probably be more "mature." I use the word loosely because its definition has changed so much. I mean you'll have experienced things and taken on responsibilities so different from the ones I have now. But I don't want you to loose your sense of wonder at the little things: the beauty of nature, the merriment of holidays, and the simplicity of childlikeness.

I know it's not possible to not change. "If there was no change, there'd be no butterflies." And I want you to be a butterfly. Yet, even a butterfly has ties to its "immature" self. The spots it carries on its skin as a wiggly caterpillar become the ornament and decoration of its wings. So let the change be for the better. Don't let your new responsibilities and lifestyle keep you from taking time for the simple things I enjoy now, like sleeping with my window open to hear the summer crickets, stargazing, writing in my journal on the back porch in my pajamas during the early morning, singing when no one else is around, dancing though no one sees. I hope it's still a part of who you are now.

Above all, I hope you can look back on the time between then and now and see the fingerprints of God. May you have a clear understanding of God's will for your life. And may He grant you peace to overcome the fear of growing up.

 Moving forward,

 [Myself at 18 years old...signed with my maiden name]

Six years ago, I penned this letter to myself as part of an English assignment. It was the end of senior year of high school, and I remember my classmates (and myself) questioning whether our teacher would truly send them to our future selves. He made good on that promise and at the most opportune time.

I spent that much of yesterday (12.12.12) lamenting how I didn't have time to reflect before my birthday, an exercise I began the first year I realized birthdays no longer held the same excitement of childhood (the presents, cakes, getting special treatment on your very own special day, etc.). Then this, a letter written in my pre-English major ignorance--full of misspellings, double negatives, and other such grammatical horrors (which I've kindly left untouched here, for your untainted reading)...this letter arrives and offers more reflection and encouragement than I could have hoped to conjure up in my adult-paced life.

I chuckled at the foresight as well. I am married. College is already starting to feel like a distant memory. And I've certainly had plenty of experiences and taken on new responsibilities, many of which I'm still grappling to understand and carry out well. I'd say I'm more "mature" in the sense my 18-year-old self described--matured by time and experience, but with so much more to see, do, and become. I don't think I've lost my sense of wonder, thankfully, and I attribute some of that to this beautiful new place I've found myself living in as well as the beautiful new life I've discovered with my soul mate. There is much to wonder at in God's world and in a life that seeks after Him.

"If there was no change, there'd be no butterflies." That was my favorite quote in high school. I had it posted in my locker, held up by a butterfly magnet with feathered wings. I clung to this quote because I've never dealt with change well--it always seemed to manage to dig its icy tendrils of dread and sense of loss into my emotions. It still does, on occasion, but I've learned to fear it less, because I know that, in spite of the pain and the things I know I'll miss, I will survive the change though I carry the marks of it forever. One of my favorite songs we sing in worship says "Constant through the trials and the change, One thing remains...Your Love never fails. It never gives up. It never runs out on me." I think that's what the past-me was hinting at, though I've grown to believe it even more deeply now: God's Love never fails, gives up, or runs out on me, no matter what trials and changes come my way. No matter if I cross miles and miles to start a new life, far from the home I've known. No matter if health problems creep in to steal my bodily comfort. No matter what bumpy roads of marriage super-husband and I have to travel. His Love is there.

It was there with me in high school too, as I sat at my desk, penning thoughts I hoped would reach me on the other side of the unknown--that frightening stretch between "childhood" and "adulthood" that seems to occur during the college and early marriage years. Despite my encouraging words and bolstering confidence, that was a troubled time for me. I'd seen the death of a young friend and learned that life isn't a guarantee. I'd witnessed and shared the pain of family members as they battled depression and harrowing circumstances. I wasn't a child then either, I suppose. But God's love has surely carried me through that changing time and He still does!

I have seen the fingerprints of God in my life. Real tears of gratitude fall at that marvelous realization. I think if I knew then how my life would turn out in six years, I would have felt a mix of fear and awe. (A right response, don't you think?) What an INCREDIBLE birthday present! No matter how daunting (and rather epic) "a quarter of a century old" may sound, I prayerfully expect to see the fingerprints of God on the next 25 years also. This is my letter to the future.