This is something I've been thinking about quite a bit recently. I've been thinking about blogging it, and trying to get my thoughts organized.
So let's waste no time with pleasantries.
First, a question: Are you familiar with the concept of "The One"?
If not, I'll explain what I think of when I hear that phrase:
I think, when pertaining to myself, that "The One" is a man who is destined to be my future husband (because I'm single, if you didn't know ;)). I think it's referring to one particular man, out of the billions of men in the world, who has been created by God to fit the exact specification of my needs, my personality, my life.
You know, the whole "match made in heaven," "soul mates," "OTP" ("one true pair," as is a popular way of putting it these days).
So that's the basics of what defines "The One" in my mind. It's something that I've grown up hearing. But not just hearing. I've been taught this concept as if it were the only "right" path to follow.
The path, as I understand it, looks something like this:
1. Make a list of alllllll the non-negotiables. That means you write down all the 500 things that you are looking for in a future husband/wife. These traits are things that, well, aren't negotiable. It means your future spouse absolutely must posses these attributes or it's a no-go. Don't even consider entering into a relationship with that person if they aren't: physically pure, attending church services weekly, spiritual leaders in the church, early risers, selfless, have a good job/work ethic, on good terms/have good relationships with his/her family, dog lovers, future father/mother material, etc.The list goes on and on. It can include any number of things you think are important in a future mate.
*Now, please understand; I do think it's important to have standards, and it's definitely not a good idea to date any random guy/girl you know nothing about, but let's be realistic here! No one is perfect, and no one person is going to posses ALL of the things you put on your list. Husbands and wives are not like Build-A-Bear - you can't create your own.
2. Pray pray pray. This one is simple, they say. You have got to pray for your future spouse because, hello! God already hand-picked them especially for you! Right? I mean, that's what they were created for - for you! But first, God has to shape them and mold them and prepare them...FOR YOU! And then, at exactly the right time and in exactly the right way God will guide him/her directly to you. Your paths will cross and you will eventually (if not immediately) fall in love with each other. In some cases God will even tell you, in a voice that sounds oddly like Morgan Freeman's, "He/she is The One." And you will stop whatever it is you're doing, *cue soft, romantic music*, you'll see that person as if for the first time, and, jaw dropping, glance Heavenward and hear the hallelujah chorus. It's as simple as that.
Oh, but make sure you pray about it often, at least 5 times a day, and if you don't have true faith, it might not work. Just so you know.
*Obviously, it is important to pray. Don't get me wrong here, I'm not saying that praying is ridiculous or pointless. Praying is a very important part of having a good relationship with God. I just think that the way some people pray for/about their future husband/wife/marriage is...well, honestly kind of funny.
3. Don't fall for Mr./Miss. Wrong. So, obviously, from what I've already described, there is only one Mr./Miss. Right, but plenty of Mr./Miss. Wrongs.
Now, you have to be extremely careful at this point, after making your list and praying, praying, praying about it. And you absolutely cannot trust your heart in this matter. Because, after all, "The human heart is the most deceitful of all things, and desperately wicked. Who really knows how bad it is?" (Jeremiah 17:9 - in case you were wondering.) You're heart is only going to lead you astray, make you believe that Mr./Miss Wrong is actually Mr./Miss Right. Yes, it's all very confusing, and by this time it may not seem quite as simple as everyone would have you believe, but it's proven to work as long as you follow all the steps in the correct order.
*I'm not saying this verse isn't true. However, I do think that, like so many other verses from the bible, it has been over-used, especially for things that benefit the user and help their opinion hold water. Context, people! Context.
4. Actually, don't date at all. Dating is, to be blunt, not of the Lord, unchristian, culturally accepted, which means that we, as christians who are called to a higher standard, should not partake in the ways of the world. Therefore, we should shun the practice of dating. Besides, what good can come of dating anyway? You're only setting yourself up for heartbreak and disappointment. So of course, the best way to avoid being hurt in life is by not dating. At all. Don't open your heart to someone who is only going to stomp on it, and who, ultimately, you probably aren't going to marry anyway. Save yourself the pain and trouble and just don't even go there. Trust me, there's a better, more superior way, (stated below in #5), and anyone who tells you otherwise is blind to the truth.
*I'm not saying that the way some people choose to date is absolutely flawless. But I don't think it's really about the actual dating itself. I think it has more to do with the maturity of the people involved and the reasons why they decide to date.
5. Just wait. After following the above steps, you've reached #5. Wait. It's as simple as it sounds. Or...is it?
See, the thing is, God already has a perfect person picked out for you. He knows who it is and how you'll meet each other. God will work out all the details. You, my friend, don't have to do a thing! That's great, right? Just kick back, relax, and wait for the delivery man to send your perfect, custom-made husband/wife right to your door! How much easier could it get?
So, instead of making an effort to get to know different people and develop unnecessary friendships, you just have to wait for God to tell you who to pursue, and then it'll be smooth sailing. You'll both become best friends, and then, since God will inform you both that you're OTPs, the guy will propose, the girl will accept, you'll have the perfect Pinterest wedding, and a hot (yet still very christian) honeymoon! And that's the way it will be forever after because this was a match made in heaven for goodness sake!
*By this time, I really hope you've noticed something - Sarcasm.
There was a time when I believed in "The One." I thought it was so awesome that God had a special guy hand-picked, per se, especially for me; a guy that I was destined to marry. I used to wonder what he looked like, what his name was, where he was in the world, and if he was thinking about me.
Now it seems silly. How could someone be thinking about me if he didn't know who I am? If he didn't know anything about me? And...who is this he?
If I follow this train of thought, I begin to wonder if there really is a he at all. I mean, yes, I do hope to get married someday, so there will be a him. But I don't believe that there already is a particular, specific person who is already my him.
I don't really think there is anywhere in the bible where God says, "I've created someone specifically for each of you to marry. Await further instructions." Or, "This is how you find Mr./Miss Right. See steps 1-5." It just doesn't work that way (though it might be easier if it did).
Of course, someone might say, "But God already knows who I'm going to marry." Yes. That's true. He does. He also knows what you're going to have for breakfast tomorrow. Does that mean he chose you and Frosted Flakes for each other?
He also knows what kind of job you're going to have in the future. Does that mean he created that job exactly to fit your personality?
God knows the kinds of friends you'll have throughout your whole life. Does that mean he created them to be your friends? Does that mean he chose them as your friends? Mm, maybe, depending on how you look at it. But I think he gives us the free will to choose. To make our own decisions. To bear responsibility for our own actions.
For me, to think that there's ONE person in the whole world, out of billions of other people, that I could have a good, healthy, fulfilling marriage with, is kind of...self-centered, selfish, and would make me feel like a jerk. I mean, think about it. We're so special that we have to have someone made for us to be able to get along with them and love them and share our life with them? It doesn't quite make sense to me anymore, now that I've thought about it logically and realistically.
And what about the christians who believed this, and truly, honestly thought that God had spoken to them, telling them that their significant other was "The One," only to get married and, years later, end up divorced. What happened? Did God lie? Obviously that isn't it. Did they hear him wrong? Maybe. But maybe the whole mentality of their being one perfect person for each of us just isn't true.
I think that there are multiple choices for who we decide to spend our life with. I think we should choose wisely, but not become so worried about it that we're actually afraid of making the wrong choice and miss out on a great relationship.
One last point I'd like to mention is that when we become so focused on the other person being what we need, being right for us, being our Mr. or Miss Right, we sadly become more self-centered and expect that the other person is supposed to make us happy. We spend so much time thinking about our Mr./Miss. Right, that we no longer think about whether we're a good match for the other person. How can we contribute to their happiness? How can we show them that we love them? How can we meet their needs?
We spend way too much time making lists of what we're looking for in someone else and spend very little time thinking about which areas we can grow in and how we can better love other people.
I know there a lot of people out there who honestly believe some of these things, so if I've offended anyone, that isn't my purpose in writing this. It's meant to be funny, yet also cause you to question why we've believed these things. So, I hope it makes you think, and maybe laugh a little as well.
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
A Series of Events Part 10 (Conclusion)
This whole series of events led us to our beginning. Or, as I've considered many times, maybe it wasn't the beginning, but rather, a beginning.
After "The Christmas Eve Kiss," as I like to call it, Matthew and I fell slowly and gently in love with each other more and more as time drifted past. Anne, needless to say, was thrilled when I told her. She squealed with delight to the point of annoyance. For over a week, everything that came out of her mouth consisted of either, "I told you so." "I knew it." "You guys are so great together." Or "Do you think you'll get married'?" And lots of other inquiries, exclamations, and speculations.
The three of us, sometimes along with Jake, (who did actually get around to asking her out) still hung out lots, and did some double dates every now and then. Life felt better than ever. For once I was hopeful about the future. I envisioned myself happy and optimistic, with Matthew next to me, holding my hand, and the two of us discovering the world together. It was a great vision.
And it was almost shattered.
A year and half after "The Christmas Eve Kiss" something pretty big happened. You see, my dad was the head manager-guy at a bank. Real exciting, I know. The owner, some big-wig, wanted to expand, open more fancy-pants banks in other areas, and since my dad was known for his diligence and trustworthiness, he was selected to oversee and basically run this new bank. Which meant moving. I repeat: moving.
Obviously, I did not want to move. I finally had friends, a job, a fantastic boyfriend. I tried to explain this to my parents. I felt selfish for even mentioning it. This job was something my dad had been hoping for, and though it was a difficult decision to make, he couldn't turn it down. They understood my perspective, and even considered rethinking their decision, but I couldn't stand the thought of holding them back. Especially my dad. This was something he really wanted.
So I had to come up with a different solution.
I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of staying here while my parents moved to a different state, but that was the only logical solution. I was definitely old enough to live on my own, but I only had a part-time job at Beck's Bakery and wasn't making enough to pay for rent and groceries and other bills and living expenses. I thought about trying to find a full-time job, and even started looking for one, until Matthew mentioned something he'd been considering.
We sat across from each other at the picnic table in the park, the one next to the lake where we got caught in the rain that time on Thanksgiving. He held my hand, looking at it with such focus, as if he were examining it for who knows what reason. Finally, after a long silence, he broke eye contact with my hand and looked up.
"What do you think about moving into my apartment?"
"What?" I asked, startled at this sudden question. He nodded, as if agreeing with himself. "Yeah. It's the perfect solution. Okay, maybe not the most ideal situation, but it could work," he added, seeing the look I gave him. I considered his proposal. Would that really work?
"I don't know... I don't think my father would be too keen on that idea. I mean, he can't exactly tell me not to, but I wouldn't really feel right about doing something he doesn't approve of..."
"I know what you mean, and I respect your father's opinion. I just think we have to be realistic here. There aren't many other solutions. I mean, we talked about a long-distance relationship if you were to move with your parents. Neither of us really want that, though if it came down to it, you know I'd do anything for you." He smiled and kissed the back of my hand, which he was still holding. "But if we can come up with something where we can avoid that, I think we should look into it. I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. Not at all. But just consider this: I've got a pull-out couch. I could sleep on that. We wouldn't need to sleep in the same room or anything. Your dad might be alright with that arrangement. What do you think?" He looked at me with those shining green eyes; the eyes I loved so much. The eyes that threatened to swallow me, to drown me in their deep green pools. And I knew I'd do anything to stay with them.
Admittedly, my parents weren't thrilled with the idea of my moving in with Matthew, but, all things considered, they didn't protest. Very much.
The week before they were scheduled to move, I was all settled in my new home. It felt different, for sure, living apart from my parents, and they didn't exactly like the idea of leaving me behind, as they called it, but after a while we all settled into a new normal.
Matthew slept on the couch-bed and I slept in the bedroom. Some nights we would fall asleep in the living room watching movies until the wee hours of the morning, but I would always wake up every morning back in my bed and Matthew on the couch. He carried me. I sometimes secretly pretended to be asleep, just so he'd carry me to the other room and I wouldn't have to walk. I shared that secret with him later.
After another six months or so, Christmas found it's way to us once more. On Christmas Eve it would be two years since that first kiss under the mistletoe.
Kate decided to have another party. She and Thomas had gotten married back in the spring, so this would be their first Christmas together. My parents were coming to visit, and both Anne and Jake were coming this year.
"Hey guys! Come on in!" Kate says when she answers the door. Matthew and I have just arrived. We hurry inside to get out of the cold. Kate and Thomas have put up all the usual decorations and then some. As I look around inside, everything has more lights, more tinsel, more holiday cheer than the last Christmas party my aunt hosted.
Knowing there will be some special goodies waiting especially for me, I make a B-line for the kitchen. Sure enough, there's the snack table with a "Gluten-Free" label on the plates holding my very own desserts. Oh how I love Kate.
"Ah. I thought this is where I'd find you." It's Matthew. He offers me his one-of-a-kind, signature smile. I smile back, and, pausing for just a second, I take that time to think to myself just how attractive he is. His hair is parted slightly to the side, longer on the top and shorter on the sides. It falls gently across his forehead, swooping perfectly to the side. It's true I'm jealous of his hair; it's so soft and shiny. My fingers itch every time I look at it, wanting to touch it.
Today, for this special occasion, he's wearing a light blue dress shirt underneath a grey vest with dark grey trousers and black ankle-high boots. He looks rather dashing, if I do say so myself.
"Well, you were right," I say. "You found me." He touches my shoulder and moves behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder, so his cheek is nestled against mine. I breathe a slow, contented sigh. He kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear, "I love you." I close my eyes. Warmth spreads throughout every part of me. I turn around to face him, his arms still around me, and, looking deeply into his eyes, I say, "Matthew...I love you."
A couple hours later everyone is in the den playing games, watching Christmas movies, or just sitting around drinking hot chocolate or eggnog. I've just finished a game of UNO with my cousins and Anne. Jake and Matthew seem to be having some kind of discussion about who won their dart game. He catches my eye and nods his head toward the door to the living room. I look back at Anne to tell her that Matthew wants something, but when I turn to her, she's looking at me, a slight smile playing on her overly-glossed lips. What's up with that? I'm about to ask when she winks at me and walks away, toward where Jake is playing darts with himself. I just shake my head. There's no telling with her.
When I get into the living room Matthew is sitting by the fireplace, holding two cups of hot chocolate.
"Come sit by me?" he asks. I chuckle a little. He's so sweet. I sit down beside him as close as possible, so our legs touch from hip to knee. He hands me the paper cup filled with light brown liquid. We sit together in silence for a little while, drinking our hot beverages.
When I'm finished he takes my cup and tosses it into the nearby trash basket, which is next to the recliner. I'm beginning to wonder why he wanted me to come in here, wondering if he has something to tell me, or if he just wanted a moment alone for the purpose of being alone. Or maybe he wanted me to sit under the mistletoe (which is exactly where it was the first time) so he'd have an excuse to kiss me. (Not that he needs one.) But he hasn't said anything and he hasn't kissed me. Just as I'm getting a bit impatient waiting for him to say or do something, about to ask what's on his mind, he stands up rather abruptly. With a confused look on my face, I watch him as he stands there for a second, his back to me. I see his shoulders rise as if he's taking a deep breath. Turning back around, he reaches for my hand. I smile. He smiles back, big and real and eyes gleaming in the firelight. He kneels down in front of me and says, "Bailey, I know I've said this many times, but I love you more than words can express. I don't think any word ever invented could fully explain it. So I want to demonstrate my love for you. I want to show you, to prove to you, and everyone else, that I love and cherish and treasure you, every day, for as long as I live.
"I know life will sometimes throw storms in our faces, and times will be hard, but I promise to always be there to walk through it with you, together.
So, will you, Bailey Evers, do me the incredible honor of marrying me?" As he says this last part, he reaches inside his front shirt-pocket and pulls out a ring. A gorgeous ring. An engagement ring. Throughout his declaration of unending love and devotion to me, and his promise to prove it to the world, I have sat in silent astonishment. Now, as he holds out the ring, offering me everything I could ever hope for, my emotions spill over along with the tears that run down my face.
I nod my head quickly, remembering that I haven't given an answer, and manage to squeak out a barely audible, "Yes!"
He sighs with obvious relief and smiles that brilliant smile that I love so much. And it's all for me. He takes my left hand and slides the ring onto my finger. A perfect fit. He stands and pulls me up with him. Wrapping both arms around his neck, I hug him and cry some more and breathe in the scent of him. He smells like soap and woodsy scented cologne and skin.
He pulls back and places his hands behind my neck and, slowly, he leans forward and kisses me.
"The Christmas Eve Engagement Kiss."
I open my eyes to flashing camera lights. For a second I'm confused, but then I understand. Everyone knew. Except me. And apparently they all wanted a picture of this memorable moment. Of "The Christmas Eve Engagement Kiss" under the mistletoe.
As realization dawns on my face, I quickly find Anne in the applauding crowd of my relatives and friends. She wears a smug smile and I glare at her. She sticks her tongue out. We both laugh. Everyone comes rushing forward to hug and congratulate me and Matthew, my parents being first in line.
I'm glad I'd chosen the water-proof mascara.
This is not the end of our story. No, it is merely another beginning. A beautiful beginning. Matthew and I have many, though this is the last one to be shared.
I wanted to tell these stories, these beginnings, because it demonstrates something I think is important. You see, when I first met Matthew, I was very reserved and skeptical, and I didn't want to let anyone in because I was afraid. I'd been hurt before by someone I trusted; someone who was supposed to have loved me. From that experience I learned not to open up. To stay far away from potential dangers. Don't trust. Don't reveal your heart. Don't love. Because in the end, love is dangerous. Love will only lead to pain. That's what I believed.
Matthew taught me differently. He patiently proved to me through his actions that to really live, you have to open your heart and let love venture forth; let love be what guides you, not fear. He showed me that real love is extraordinarily profound, more than feelings and emotions; love is built and grown.
After "The Christmas Eve Kiss," as I like to call it, Matthew and I fell slowly and gently in love with each other more and more as time drifted past. Anne, needless to say, was thrilled when I told her. She squealed with delight to the point of annoyance. For over a week, everything that came out of her mouth consisted of either, "I told you so." "I knew it." "You guys are so great together." Or "Do you think you'll get married'?" And lots of other inquiries, exclamations, and speculations.
The three of us, sometimes along with Jake, (who did actually get around to asking her out) still hung out lots, and did some double dates every now and then. Life felt better than ever. For once I was hopeful about the future. I envisioned myself happy and optimistic, with Matthew next to me, holding my hand, and the two of us discovering the world together. It was a great vision.
And it was almost shattered.
A year and half after "The Christmas Eve Kiss" something pretty big happened. You see, my dad was the head manager-guy at a bank. Real exciting, I know. The owner, some big-wig, wanted to expand, open more fancy-pants banks in other areas, and since my dad was known for his diligence and trustworthiness, he was selected to oversee and basically run this new bank. Which meant moving. I repeat: moving.
Obviously, I did not want to move. I finally had friends, a job, a fantastic boyfriend. I tried to explain this to my parents. I felt selfish for even mentioning it. This job was something my dad had been hoping for, and though it was a difficult decision to make, he couldn't turn it down. They understood my perspective, and even considered rethinking their decision, but I couldn't stand the thought of holding them back. Especially my dad. This was something he really wanted.
So I had to come up with a different solution.
I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of staying here while my parents moved to a different state, but that was the only logical solution. I was definitely old enough to live on my own, but I only had a part-time job at Beck's Bakery and wasn't making enough to pay for rent and groceries and other bills and living expenses. I thought about trying to find a full-time job, and even started looking for one, until Matthew mentioned something he'd been considering.
We sat across from each other at the picnic table in the park, the one next to the lake where we got caught in the rain that time on Thanksgiving. He held my hand, looking at it with such focus, as if he were examining it for who knows what reason. Finally, after a long silence, he broke eye contact with my hand and looked up.
"What do you think about moving into my apartment?"
"What?" I asked, startled at this sudden question. He nodded, as if agreeing with himself. "Yeah. It's the perfect solution. Okay, maybe not the most ideal situation, but it could work," he added, seeing the look I gave him. I considered his proposal. Would that really work?
"I don't know... I don't think my father would be too keen on that idea. I mean, he can't exactly tell me not to, but I wouldn't really feel right about doing something he doesn't approve of..."
"I know what you mean, and I respect your father's opinion. I just think we have to be realistic here. There aren't many other solutions. I mean, we talked about a long-distance relationship if you were to move with your parents. Neither of us really want that, though if it came down to it, you know I'd do anything for you." He smiled and kissed the back of my hand, which he was still holding. "But if we can come up with something where we can avoid that, I think we should look into it. I'm not trying to pressure you into anything. Not at all. But just consider this: I've got a pull-out couch. I could sleep on that. We wouldn't need to sleep in the same room or anything. Your dad might be alright with that arrangement. What do you think?" He looked at me with those shining green eyes; the eyes I loved so much. The eyes that threatened to swallow me, to drown me in their deep green pools. And I knew I'd do anything to stay with them.
Admittedly, my parents weren't thrilled with the idea of my moving in with Matthew, but, all things considered, they didn't protest. Very much.
The week before they were scheduled to move, I was all settled in my new home. It felt different, for sure, living apart from my parents, and they didn't exactly like the idea of leaving me behind, as they called it, but after a while we all settled into a new normal.
Matthew slept on the couch-bed and I slept in the bedroom. Some nights we would fall asleep in the living room watching movies until the wee hours of the morning, but I would always wake up every morning back in my bed and Matthew on the couch. He carried me. I sometimes secretly pretended to be asleep, just so he'd carry me to the other room and I wouldn't have to walk. I shared that secret with him later.
After another six months or so, Christmas found it's way to us once more. On Christmas Eve it would be two years since that first kiss under the mistletoe.
Kate decided to have another party. She and Thomas had gotten married back in the spring, so this would be their first Christmas together. My parents were coming to visit, and both Anne and Jake were coming this year.
"Hey guys! Come on in!" Kate says when she answers the door. Matthew and I have just arrived. We hurry inside to get out of the cold. Kate and Thomas have put up all the usual decorations and then some. As I look around inside, everything has more lights, more tinsel, more holiday cheer than the last Christmas party my aunt hosted.
Knowing there will be some special goodies waiting especially for me, I make a B-line for the kitchen. Sure enough, there's the snack table with a "Gluten-Free" label on the plates holding my very own desserts. Oh how I love Kate.
"Ah. I thought this is where I'd find you." It's Matthew. He offers me his one-of-a-kind, signature smile. I smile back, and, pausing for just a second, I take that time to think to myself just how attractive he is. His hair is parted slightly to the side, longer on the top and shorter on the sides. It falls gently across his forehead, swooping perfectly to the side. It's true I'm jealous of his hair; it's so soft and shiny. My fingers itch every time I look at it, wanting to touch it.
Today, for this special occasion, he's wearing a light blue dress shirt underneath a grey vest with dark grey trousers and black ankle-high boots. He looks rather dashing, if I do say so myself.
"Well, you were right," I say. "You found me." He touches my shoulder and moves behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder, so his cheek is nestled against mine. I breathe a slow, contented sigh. He kisses my cheek and whispers in my ear, "I love you." I close my eyes. Warmth spreads throughout every part of me. I turn around to face him, his arms still around me, and, looking deeply into his eyes, I say, "Matthew...I love you."
A couple hours later everyone is in the den playing games, watching Christmas movies, or just sitting around drinking hot chocolate or eggnog. I've just finished a game of UNO with my cousins and Anne. Jake and Matthew seem to be having some kind of discussion about who won their dart game. He catches my eye and nods his head toward the door to the living room. I look back at Anne to tell her that Matthew wants something, but when I turn to her, she's looking at me, a slight smile playing on her overly-glossed lips. What's up with that? I'm about to ask when she winks at me and walks away, toward where Jake is playing darts with himself. I just shake my head. There's no telling with her.
When I get into the living room Matthew is sitting by the fireplace, holding two cups of hot chocolate.
"Come sit by me?" he asks. I chuckle a little. He's so sweet. I sit down beside him as close as possible, so our legs touch from hip to knee. He hands me the paper cup filled with light brown liquid. We sit together in silence for a little while, drinking our hot beverages.
When I'm finished he takes my cup and tosses it into the nearby trash basket, which is next to the recliner. I'm beginning to wonder why he wanted me to come in here, wondering if he has something to tell me, or if he just wanted a moment alone for the purpose of being alone. Or maybe he wanted me to sit under the mistletoe (which is exactly where it was the first time) so he'd have an excuse to kiss me. (Not that he needs one.) But he hasn't said anything and he hasn't kissed me. Just as I'm getting a bit impatient waiting for him to say or do something, about to ask what's on his mind, he stands up rather abruptly. With a confused look on my face, I watch him as he stands there for a second, his back to me. I see his shoulders rise as if he's taking a deep breath. Turning back around, he reaches for my hand. I smile. He smiles back, big and real and eyes gleaming in the firelight. He kneels down in front of me and says, "Bailey, I know I've said this many times, but I love you more than words can express. I don't think any word ever invented could fully explain it. So I want to demonstrate my love for you. I want to show you, to prove to you, and everyone else, that I love and cherish and treasure you, every day, for as long as I live.
"I know life will sometimes throw storms in our faces, and times will be hard, but I promise to always be there to walk through it with you, together.
So, will you, Bailey Evers, do me the incredible honor of marrying me?" As he says this last part, he reaches inside his front shirt-pocket and pulls out a ring. A gorgeous ring. An engagement ring. Throughout his declaration of unending love and devotion to me, and his promise to prove it to the world, I have sat in silent astonishment. Now, as he holds out the ring, offering me everything I could ever hope for, my emotions spill over along with the tears that run down my face.
I nod my head quickly, remembering that I haven't given an answer, and manage to squeak out a barely audible, "Yes!"
He sighs with obvious relief and smiles that brilliant smile that I love so much. And it's all for me. He takes my left hand and slides the ring onto my finger. A perfect fit. He stands and pulls me up with him. Wrapping both arms around his neck, I hug him and cry some more and breathe in the scent of him. He smells like soap and woodsy scented cologne and skin.
He pulls back and places his hands behind my neck and, slowly, he leans forward and kisses me.
"The Christmas Eve Engagement Kiss."
I open my eyes to flashing camera lights. For a second I'm confused, but then I understand. Everyone knew. Except me. And apparently they all wanted a picture of this memorable moment. Of "The Christmas Eve Engagement Kiss" under the mistletoe.
As realization dawns on my face, I quickly find Anne in the applauding crowd of my relatives and friends. She wears a smug smile and I glare at her. She sticks her tongue out. We both laugh. Everyone comes rushing forward to hug and congratulate me and Matthew, my parents being first in line.
I'm glad I'd chosen the water-proof mascara.
This is not the end of our story. No, it is merely another beginning. A beautiful beginning. Matthew and I have many, though this is the last one to be shared.
I wanted to tell these stories, these beginnings, because it demonstrates something I think is important. You see, when I first met Matthew, I was very reserved and skeptical, and I didn't want to let anyone in because I was afraid. I'd been hurt before by someone I trusted; someone who was supposed to have loved me. From that experience I learned not to open up. To stay far away from potential dangers. Don't trust. Don't reveal your heart. Don't love. Because in the end, love is dangerous. Love will only lead to pain. That's what I believed.
Matthew taught me differently. He patiently proved to me through his actions that to really live, you have to open your heart and let love venture forth; let love be what guides you, not fear. He showed me that real love is extraordinarily profound, more than feelings and emotions; love is built and grown.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Day 14 of Construction
Today is the fourteenth day of construction being done on our house.
Today was much like any other construction day.
Today is February 4, 2014 - Tuesday.
Had to get up early this morning to get ready before we had to head out to the camper. We thought there would be a lot going on today, so my dad took off from work, but that wasn't the case.
Some guys came to put insulation back in the attic. Progress. We also thought that the roofer guys were coming to put the tin/metal/whatever on the roof, but that didn't happen. Supposedly they couldn't do it today for some reason that sounds ridiculous - something about some kind of board needing to be put in place first...I don't really know. It's kind of stupid.
Anyway.
We had a few things to do in town so we left a little after noon. The guys were gone when we got back, but as we were getting out of the car, a couple guys showed up in a van to unload some materials or something that will be needed for the work on the roof. That was about 4:00.
They didn't stay long, just long enough to unload whatever they were unloading. However, one of them tried to stick his hand through the fencing in the front yard, where my retriever was out there barking his head off. Is that really a smart thing to do? If a large dog is barking and barking at you, should you really stick you hand in the fence and try to pet him? Um...no. No, that would not be a wise decision. Especially if you haven't asked his owner whether you can pet him or not. Whether he might bite you or not.
Fortunately, I happened to be walking to the camper to get my laptop and saw the guy trying to pet my dog. When he saw me, he started walking away. Yes, that's my dog. No, I didn't give permission for you to touch him. Yes, you should walk away now. Thank you very much!
I guess we'll see whether the roofers actually show up tomorrow. It's only Tuesday and I already can't wait for the weekend so I can sleep in some more and and not have to worry about strangers in our house and men trying to pet my dog while he barks ferociously at them.
Today was much like any other construction day.
Today is February 4, 2014 - Tuesday.
Had to get up early this morning to get ready before we had to head out to the camper. We thought there would be a lot going on today, so my dad took off from work, but that wasn't the case.
Some guys came to put insulation back in the attic. Progress. We also thought that the roofer guys were coming to put the tin/metal/whatever on the roof, but that didn't happen. Supposedly they couldn't do it today for some reason that sounds ridiculous - something about some kind of board needing to be put in place first...I don't really know. It's kind of stupid.
Anyway.
We had a few things to do in town so we left a little after noon. The guys were gone when we got back, but as we were getting out of the car, a couple guys showed up in a van to unload some materials or something that will be needed for the work on the roof. That was about 4:00.
They didn't stay long, just long enough to unload whatever they were unloading. However, one of them tried to stick his hand through the fencing in the front yard, where my retriever was out there barking his head off. Is that really a smart thing to do? If a large dog is barking and barking at you, should you really stick you hand in the fence and try to pet him? Um...no. No, that would not be a wise decision. Especially if you haven't asked his owner whether you can pet him or not. Whether he might bite you or not.
Fortunately, I happened to be walking to the camper to get my laptop and saw the guy trying to pet my dog. When he saw me, he started walking away. Yes, that's my dog. No, I didn't give permission for you to touch him. Yes, you should walk away now. Thank you very much!
I guess we'll see whether the roofers actually show up tomorrow. It's only Tuesday and I already can't wait for the weekend so I can sleep in some more and and not have to worry about strangers in our house and men trying to pet my dog while he barks ferociously at them.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Day 12 and 13 of Construction
I'm a little late with writing this. Stuff has been going on pretty much all the time. Busy. Bleh.
So, on January 29, (I think) which would have been Wednesday, the drywall people came to patch up the holes in the ceilings. It took two days, and, honestly, there are still things that didn't get done. But what's new, right?
It did, indeed, snow on the night of January 28th. Plenty of it too; nearly 3 inches, which, for us southerners, is a lot more than we're used to.
On January 30, Thursday, we were out in the camper again after coming back home from taking the sister to work. I had planned on writing this blog post then, but, alas, my laptop charger was in my bedroom, forgotten and unreachable. My battery only had 10% power left. So much for that.
Also on January 30th, the metal/tin/whatever was delivered to our house. At this very moment it sits, lonely, in the driveway around the back of the house, longingly waiting for the roofers to make it part of our house. At least, if metal had feelings, I imagine that's how it would feel. Just spit-balling.
Once again, no idea of the plans for construction this coming week. The forecast, as far as what's been predicted, looks rainy and, possibly, more snow. There may be three days or so that permit work to be done on the house. The insulation has to be put in, the metal/tin/whatever has to be put on the roof, the window has to be installed. And then, of course, there's still the matter of the siding that got melted off the back of the house, the counter that got burned and ruined, and the cabinet that got sliced from the outside with the firefighters axe or whatever it was; it was sharp, so, that's really all that matters.
Note: As a reminder, these posts are mainly a way for me to keep a record of what's been happening with the repairs being made on the house. If, for whatever reason, you find this interesting, that's great! If not, that's fine too. Just don't give up on me so soon. I promise to post more uncomfortably honest blogs that make you wish you hadn't read them, but somehow couldn't help it. ;)
Stay tuned!
So, on January 29, (I think) which would have been Wednesday, the drywall people came to patch up the holes in the ceilings. It took two days, and, honestly, there are still things that didn't get done. But what's new, right?
It did, indeed, snow on the night of January 28th. Plenty of it too; nearly 3 inches, which, for us southerners, is a lot more than we're used to.
On January 30, Thursday, we were out in the camper again after coming back home from taking the sister to work. I had planned on writing this blog post then, but, alas, my laptop charger was in my bedroom, forgotten and unreachable. My battery only had 10% power left. So much for that.
Also on January 30th, the metal/tin/whatever was delivered to our house. At this very moment it sits, lonely, in the driveway around the back of the house, longingly waiting for the roofers to make it part of our house. At least, if metal had feelings, I imagine that's how it would feel. Just spit-balling.
Once again, no idea of the plans for construction this coming week. The forecast, as far as what's been predicted, looks rainy and, possibly, more snow. There may be three days or so that permit work to be done on the house. The insulation has to be put in, the metal/tin/whatever has to be put on the roof, the window has to be installed. And then, of course, there's still the matter of the siding that got melted off the back of the house, the counter that got burned and ruined, and the cabinet that got sliced from the outside with the firefighters axe or whatever it was; it was sharp, so, that's really all that matters.
Note: As a reminder, these posts are mainly a way for me to keep a record of what's been happening with the repairs being made on the house. If, for whatever reason, you find this interesting, that's great! If not, that's fine too. Just don't give up on me so soon. I promise to post more uncomfortably honest blogs that make you wish you hadn't read them, but somehow couldn't help it. ;)
Stay tuned!
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