Two reasons why my husband rocks!

Our five year anniversary is coming up next month. My husband---he's on top of things this year! He's already celebrating, which gives me the perfect opportunity to tell him (and you) that:



I could go in a million directions with this. I could tell you about what an amazing papa he is to the girls, or about how well he provides for our family. I could tell you about how he jumps in washing dishes, doing laundry and other household chores, or how he wakes up with the girls on the weekend, and gives me a few extra minutes of sleep. Because he is and does all of those things.

But today, today I want to tell you about how he pays attention.

I, offhandedly, make comments about things, and he tucks them away surprising me when I least expect it.

Case in point #1:

Isn't that a glorious sight?!

Okay, maybe not to you, but it is to me. I open the fridge, and I hear a choir of angels singing. 

For months I've talked about wanting to get rid of all my old, tired, stained, ugly, chemical-laden plastic storage containers, and replace them with all glass ones. 

My sweet husband remembered. And got me a great set for an early anniversary gift. 

I was jumping up and down squealing with glee while simultaneously hugging him and laughing at how "old" this makes me to get so excited about storage-ware. 

Case in point #2:

Since we have a contract on a house built in 1860, I thought it would only be fitting to convert our drinking glasses to Mason Jars. They just make me happy. I mean, just look:


art by Beth Meadows 

So, again, my sweet husband remembered. Just look what arrived in the mail yesterday:

Why yes, I am drinking my OJ out of a Mason jar wine glass this morning. Could you just die?!

Thank you, husband for loving me with glassware, and for knowing me so well, that you knew I'd delight in these things.

If you want to give a shout-out to your husband via blog post. You can do so here.

Learning from Melissa

The week of Labor Day, my sweet husband took us on our first family vacation. I had no idea where we were going; he wanted desperately to make it a surprise, and I intentionally let him do all the planning, avoiding the urge to figure out where we were headed.

It was indeed a great surprise to see my sweet friend, Melissa standing in the restaurant parking lot when we arrived at our destination.

Please excuse the crazed looks! It had been a long day for all of us.

Melissa and I met through blogging. 

Her girls are five months older than Brynne and Hadley, so I've sought her insight a lot, because, in most instances, she's dealt with it; been there, done that with her girls. In the process we've become great friends. We share our faith. We share our lives. We encourage one another.

Following our trip, Melissa wrote a telling post about all she's learned through our friendship.

If you've taken a moment to read it, you'll see that we are, indeed, very different people. And our parenting styles are in many ways night and day different.

I was telling a friend, a long time ago, about my friendship with Melissa. Her comment was that really, this is the best way to get to know someone. Instead of seeing what kind car she drives, or what her home looks like, or how she dresses, or how how her children behave--I saw her heart.

That is where the foundation of our friendship was built, and on that, there is great grace and love for one another.

Her words ring true. It's easy to judge and discount mamas who do things differently than what works for us, and maybe we should not be so quick to do so. There could be a beautiful friendship (and much to learn) amidst the different feeding, diapering and discipline styles.

My efforts in parenting our children focus greatly around health and safety. Admittedly, obsessive in some instances.

I battle to find the line between letting the girls experience life fully in a safe and healthy way while teaching them to obey and exercise appropriate caution. When I say battle, I really do battle/debate/question everything. Sometimes it's exhausting.

Stop.
Breathe.
Pray.
Repeat.

As Melissa has learned from me, I too have learned much from her. Learned and put into practice! Mostly, it involves relaxing a little bit. It's good to relax, and to let the girls relax.

Going barefoot. Before our visit to South Carolina, I don't think our girls had ever gone barefoot outside (unless they were in their strollers). This is a regular occurrence at Melissa's house.  

My girls kinda love it!

Letting the girls bake with us in the kitchen. Kitchens make me nervous. There are about 103 ways a kid can get hurt in the kitchen. Once, my little sister was helping me make some brownies. I was a dumb high school kid, who didn't pay enough attention in chemistry. I poured water over burning butter, which then exploded in my face, sending me to the ER. Thankfully, my sister didn't get burned. But--the thought that she could have been makes me all kinds of nervous, which is why our kitchen is completely off limits to the girls.

Melissa lets her girls bake with her in the kitchen all the time. That sounds like so much fun! I want my girls to decorate sugar cookies, help me stir, and be part of food preparations where appropriate.

So...under careful supervision, our girls did get to help their papa make banana bread (no burning butter involved). They had so much fun! Definitely something we'll do with them again!

Family Dinners. Most of the time, Brad and I wait to eat our dinner after the girls go to bed, and the girls have the leftovers for their dinner the following night. Melissa's family eats dinner together as a family. Lately, one or two nights a week we've been doing family dinners. It's chaotic sometimes, but I love that the girls are part of our meal together. I look forward to more of those meals together in the future.

Appetizer Dinners. Most of the time I plan out just a plain old meal. Melissa does "appetizer nights" at her house. How fun! Are you guys on Pinterest? I caution, you, time spent there is like a black hole, even worse than facebook. But--there are some pretty amazing recipes to be found, and you can park them right there in your own Pinterest folder, so that they're easy for you to find. I've found some great appetizers for appetizer night that way. Appetizer night at our house is definitely a family dinner. Fun food enjoyed by all!

Climbing. Melissa's girls are climbers! Oh my are they ever! This was something Brad and I are just not used to at all. We stood in awe as Aeralind and Bronwyn climbed onto the roof of the car, and Melissa and Derek didn't even bat an eye. Our girls have never really been climbers. They climb up on the couch, but that's about the extent of it. So, this is a new adventure for us, and it makes me nervous. Climbing = falling. But--I let this go on long enough to snap a picture this past weekend:

Heaven, help me!

Happy Fourth!

My husband has a few things to say about being married to me for four years. I invited him to say it to me here.

I had a couple things to say to him too, you can hop over to his space to read them.
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Four years of marriage.

Four years.

Four years was the average state prison sentence handed out in the US in 2007. That's the length of time I spent in high school. It's the amount of time I spent in college.

It is also the amount of time we've been married, as of today.

I'm not comparing our marriage to spending time in prison. I guess I can't speak for you, but these past four years have been the best years of my life.  I don't know how many inmates can truly say that.

I realize four years doesn't break any record for the longest marriage, and it doesn't make me an expert by any means, but I think I've learned a few things.

The first time I heard the instructions on marriage in Ephesians 5, I thought it meant that wives have to do everything their husbands tell them.  Marriage would be a piece of cake if I took that literally.  But how boring would that be?  Who wants to spend their life with someone who just takes instructions?

Not me. 

I kept reading in Ephesians, and I found instructions for the husband as well.

The secret to a happy marriage?  Love you, my wife, as Christ loves the church. 

What does that look like? Like putting my needs, wants, and desires second.  Like doing things for you that may not be on the top of my own list.  Like sacrificing.

I make a sacrifice when I choose the option I don't desire the most.

That is a huge task.  I can't possibly do it all the time.  It's not possible for me to pour out the amount of love Christ has poured out on us. 

But I can try.

I fail at this.  I can't be perfect, but perfection is not something I am shooting for - or will ever attain.

So what am I to do?  I can do the things I ought to do, and not do the things I ought not do.

I can come home and help with the girls and with chores.

I can do things so you can relax.

I don't have to go to every social function I'm invited to.

I don't have to have the TV on all the time.
 
I love you, Julia. Here's to many more years of a wonderful partnership.  I look forward to your continuing to challenge me to be a better man, husband, father, and follower of Christ.

Brad

How Do I Love Thee?

What my husband loves best about me is that I ask deep, thought provoking, long-conversation-igniting questions in the dark, as we are lying in bed waiting for the Sandman to lull us to dreamland.

Yeah, probably not.

I can't help it--as I lie there, nestled on the pillow-top mattress, the thoughts just come, and I need to give them a voice, for fear of forgetting them.

So, I ask him, "How do I love you best?"

His reply, "You tell me."

Followed by, "Do I need to take that quiz again, or something?"

I try not to laugh. My poor husband. Early on in our dating relationship I made him read The Five Love Languages, and take the "quiz" in the back. He didn't know what he was getting into when he chose to love a girl with a degree in counseling.

"Nope," I say.

There's no question about it--he loves with words. He always has.

Love drips from his lips like honey.

He compliments.

He encourages.

He lifts me up.

I am adored.

Cherished.

Here's the snag--I struggle to receive his love. I often shrug off his words, argue with him, and even tell him he's wrong.

Love pours from his soul like wine. The best wine. And I don't want a glass, not even a drink. And--seriously!? This girl does NOT say no to a glass of wine!

So, what's the hang up? We're talking about wine here, people!

Truth--I just can't believe my husband.

I look in the mirror, and I see stretch marks, extra skin on my stomach--all flaws from carrying our twin daughters. In my head, those flaws, somehow, make me unworthy of his wooing and his praise, because I'm, physically, no longer the best version of myself.

Since words are how he loves, I'm essentially telling him not to love me. I'm stuffing a rag down his throat and telling him that the way he loves doesn't cut it. I'm throwing that really good, best wine back in his face.

I recently read an article by Aaron Traister, which speaks of this from a man's perspective. He said that the woman he

...married eight years ago looked like an alluring, 26-year-old blank slate waiting to be filled with stories, aglow in the possibilities of youth. But I imagine that staring at a blank page for the rest of your life would get boring, which is why it's so hard for me to understand how she can pinch and grab and criticize the parts of her that tell the best stories of our life. The scars on her belly, the changing shape of her breasts, the lines that are starting to appear on her face — these aren't imperfections; they're what keep me wanting to find out what happens next.

So, this is what I'm thinking:

God declared that I, his creation, is very good.

God saw all he had made, and it was very good.
 Genesis 1:31a

I am so very good, in fact, that he died with my sin on his shoulders, because I am worth saving. Then, for good measure, God blessed me with an incredible husband, who loves me with words that pour out like my favorite drink. 

So, here's where I'm at:

I am going to love my husband by letting him love me, his stretch marked bride.

Letting him love the very good woman, God created.

Letting him love my body for the stories it tells.

Letting his love-words soak into my soul.

Letting his best wine dance on my tongue and run down my throat.

Cheers!
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As Melissa and I have begun our conversations about True Beauty. I've felt like I have work to do in my own life--this is part of that work. My journey to loving and being loved fully and completely.

How do you love your husband?