If I could say one thing at your wedding....

This last weekend I was in a wedding of a dear, dear friend.  The bride and groom asked their attendants and a few others to assemble a bouquet of love and support for them. They asked each of us to speak for approximately 30 seconds during the ceremony.  More specifically they asked that we would share a word of encouragement, a thought on Scripture as it pertains to marriage, bits of wisdom from personal experience, or affirmation of what we know or have observed of them or our hope for their life together (and then add a flower, which they gave us, into a vase).

I agonized over this for DAYS. I mean, how can you really illustrate a picture of someone or sum up anything profound in 30 seconds? You can’t, unless you’re Maya Angelou or someone as poetically inclined. However I tried my darndest to add depth and wisdom and sincerity in my 30 second sermon. I said something along the lines of:

“Romans 12:10 reads “Love one another with genuine affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.” We talk a lot about love but we don’t talk nearly as much about honor. To honor means to respect, esteem, dignify, to speak highly of each other when the other person isn’t around. Please remember to outdo one another in showing honor, to respect each other as much as you love each other.”

Or something to that effect. I had it written on a note card which got lost in the hustle and bustle of the never ending picture session.

I meant it, every word, and I chose that particular thing to talk about because frankly it isn’t something that my husband and I do well and I see the effects of a lack of honor. However there are a few things that I’d like to add in my 30 seconds +. Without further adieu:

1.    Don’t take yourself too seriously. You aren’t always right and your spouse won’t always get it right, and that is life.

2.    Do your best to see things in perspective, to see baby steps of progress when it feels like you have gotten nowhere.

3.    Remember how much time you spent planning your wedding down to the littlest detail? Remember how much time you spent the day before your wedding trying to make sure you had the best laid plans? Spend just as much time and effort working on your marriage daily.

4.    Serve one another in the little things. People say little things don’t matter but if something little matters to your spouse, then do your best to serve them in the little things.

5.    Make sure that your spouse’s name is always safe in your mouth. Never slander them or degrade them to other people.

6.    Make each other laugh.

7.    Learn about the ways your spouse likes to be loved and put them into practice, and in the same breath, see how they love well and do your best to accept it even if it isn’t your thing.

And there you have them… a few things that if given the chance I’d say at your wedding. There are more and trust me I’ve failed miserably at everything on this list, but we try and really that is all that we can ask of each other.

In My Annotated Life

I was recently asked to map out a timeline of my last year, detailing all the highs and lows that occurred. At first I thought it was a good idea; that was until I started thinking of the last year. After agonizing for at least five minutes, I had only thought of five or so major things to put on my timeline and none of them felt like they were worth much with the exception of helping get Mosaic off the ground. So like any mature and rational person would, I ignored the “project” until the next week when everyone was supposed to share. At our weekly gathering we started talking and a couple of people read their timelines. One person’s timeline was filled with pregnancy and the birth of their first child. The next person’s detailed a year of physical and mental struggles due to a major injury. As I listened to both of these stories I thought to myself, “How in the world do these people remember this stuff?”

When it got to be my turn I freely admitted that I hadn’t done the exercise and resolved to have it done for the next week. My intentions were good, I swear, but as I sat down again I could not do it. I thought maybe it was because I’m not a feeler. Relatively speaking I never get too high or too low and the so called even keel-ness isn’t good for timelines. Or maybe it is because the life I lead is just really boring. The reality is probably a combination of the two but I came out of the questions with a different outlook.

You see, my annotated life just looks a little different. Instead of milestones there are little moments that make my life rich and eventful. My improvised timeline looks something like this:

May ’10: Beat Nathan at tennis and felt totally BA.

June ’10: Enjoyed countless barbeques with my family and laughed uncontrollably at inappropriate dinner table talk.

July ’10: Spent 4^th of July scaring the living daylights out of my friends and laughing until the point of nausea.

August ’10: Made a lot of jokes about “pulling the goalie.” Slow clapped for teenage girl too scared to cliff jump into the lake (Got scowled at by said girl).

September ’10: Had beers and smores with a great couple while throwing flour into the fire and saying Harry Potter spells. (Highly flammable and highly entertaining)

October ’10: Started actually enjoying hanging out with women and had some of the best coffee dates of my life.

November ’10: Had a really great unexpected phone conversation with an old friend that reminded me how much I love them. Developed a new friendship over gmail chat and twitter.

December ’10: Planned stellar NYE surprise with the best co-conspirator and had more quality conversations that I could count.

January ’11: Read Little Women for the umpteenth time and loved every word.

February ’11: Got a couple letters that made me feel like one of the most special people in the world. Cried for the first time in forever. 

March ’11: Had a blast in Chicago surrounded by a lot of love. Shared an amazing week at sea with my husband and our friends. Read a Nora Roberts book against my will and didn’t hate it.

April ’11: Hugged a new friend for the first time, one of the greatest hugs ever.  Shared tons of witty banter via email. Reignited my passion for sunflower seeds.

Nothing special, no major milestones, but from the looks of it, I had a really great year. 

Untitled... for now.

She was beautiful. Her silver hair framed her face just right. She had deep lines around her face from years of laughter, her best feature in my opinion. Her laugh was deep and hearty, such a big surprise coming from such a small woman. I remember her laugh as if she were sitting next to me laughing right now. It revealed such a deep joy. She had big, strong hands and was proud of the ability to palm a basketball at the age of 70 (my hero.) She often wore pearls and always told me that you shouldn’t wait for a special occasion to wear them. I wore hers on my wedding day. She was the most kind and compassionate person I ever knew. She wasn’t supposed to have favorites but it was clear that I was hers. We were the best of friends. We spent nearly every Wednesday during summer exchanging candy between fits of laughter and mischief. She would bring me an apple pie, my favorite, and I would buy her some disgusting boston baked beans or burnt peanuts, her favorite. Amidst our laughter we had many conversations about life, faith, friendships and anything else. She shared all sorts of wisdom with me, like, never withhold a compliment, always be kinder than necessary to someone in need and always tell someone when you love them. I heard her say those three words more times than I could ever count and never once did I question her sincerity. I try to live up to those things as best as I can. I realize I remember only the best version of her. Mom says she swore like a sailor but I secretly like to chalk that up into my favorite things about her as well. Even when she had surgeries to fix her back and other things, I still thought she was invincible.

I walked into the kitchen one hot summer morning. I’d slept terrible and hadn’t bothered to change out of my oversized pajamas. Everyone was sitting around the kitchen table looking somber. It was obvious they all knew something I didn’t; either that or I was in trouble again. They had all known for awhile, since the night before when my entire extended family had been over mourning together, when I had obliviously retreated to my upstairs bedroom to play obnoxious music and be a moody teenager. No one could bear to come get me, fearing what my reaction would be. Mom refused to look at me, so I laughed at all of them and sarcastically remarked, “Who died?” Dad looked up and told me, his voice shaking and his eyes full of big sloppy tears. It felt like someone had emptied all the air out of my lungs and I gasped loudly between sobs as I beat my dad’s chest calling him a liar.  I cried until it felt like my tear ducts had dried up; until all I could do was sleep. It was the first time I ever felt broken, the first time that I couldn’t think of anything to do to mend myself and I mourned for a long time. I refused to acknowledge the reality and I haphazardly masked the pain I felt. It took a long time but I healed and eventually grasped on to reality and tried to start walking in direction that she so often instructed me.

On Christmas Eve we watched home movies. It wasn’t until I heard her laugh half-way through that I realized she had been filming. She was laughing at my hopeless attempt to steer a go kart around the kiddy track at Okoboji and cheering me on. Hearing her laugh on tape was the best gift this year. I’ve recalled it to mind often since then as I did this morning on my drive to work.  It brings forth stronger emotions than I’m sometimes ready for but I love it, it’s the best sound.