sweet 16

 It's been 16 years since we said "I do."  Actually it was "I will," and there's a funny story behind that - but I'll spare you.  Let's just say there was no hesitating on that day.  We loved each other and we were ready to pledge our lives to one another.

This man has been such a blessing to me!  I am honored to be his wife.  Over and over he extends me grace, and he is so considerate and respectful.  He's turned out to be an amazing father (but I knew that he would be) and an even better husband, partner, lover, leader and friend.

I've loved my life these past 16 years, and I pray we'll have many, many more years together.  I have my heart set on growing old with this guy.


Happy Anniversary, Dearest.  I love you more today than I ever have before.  And given our history, that's saying something!

weekend for two

My husband and I got away - by ourselves - this past weekend.  We had a really nice time!

We went to a bed & breakfast northwest of our home.  It was beautiful, the weather was great, and the company was stellar.  

Here we are sitting by the creek.

Crippen Creek.  Lovely, no?

The view from our bedroom included trees and pastured chickens.  We even got to collect the eggs on Saturday.  And I was reminded of my irrational fear of birds, and the reason I really should never have backyard chickens.  They were lovely from a distance though.

There's nothing like pretty scenery framed by a clear blue sky.

We enjoyed a day in Astoria, and had a lovely gluten-free lunch. 

Also, I feel in love with a new flavor of Izze!

Rest, relaxation, good food, better company, and time to talk, talk, talk.  Success!

My husband is a man.

Lately I've  noticed something.  Often we hear men referred to as...boys.   Sometimes in an affectionate manner, like her husband and son being a woman's "boys."  Often, though, it's a bit more snide than that.

"You have two sons?  I guess you're raising three boys!"
"Those guys are such boys.  Of course they're slobs, what else could you expect?"

Our culture seems to believe that adult males are stuck in a perpetual juvenile phase, doomed to make immature decisions and chose selfishness above all else.   One has only to watch a few television commercials to see evidence of this.  Guys are portrayed as just plain dumb.  There are precious few programs or films which depict fathers as deserving of respect.   They are clueless, helpless, and...well, immature.

As the mother of four males, this really bothers me.  Kids seem to rise to the expectations we've set for them.  What happens when they see others of their gender in this manner?  Not growing in character, not becoming wise and discerning, strong and gentle, but as perpetual goof-offs?

I know there are real-life males who fit that description.  But I'm thinking maybe they became that way (or never matured beyond it) because they were allowed to.  Expected to, even.

Parenting is hard.  Most of us are doing the very best we can, desperately hoping it's enough.  Praying for help, relying on God's guidance is invaluable in this.  I personally struggle to find the balance of "encouraging" my boys to do their best (which hopefully doesn't turn into criticism!), and accepting that they are kids: learning as they go along.

But I think that our attitudes toward our own husbands is connected to all this.  In fact, I believe that it is vitally important.   I want to show my boys that I believe their dad takes care of his family, leads us with wisdom, is both strong and gentle.  I want them to see that I respect him - so much!  I want them to see their father and think "I want to be like him someday."

And here's the main thing I wanted to say.  Ladies, let's treat our husbands like men.

Let's show them, our children, and the world around us that we know these guys work hard, love their families, and are doing the best they know.   Let's bite our tongues when we're tempted to nag - er, remind...and instead let's praise them for what they're doing well.    For the ways they've stepped up to responsibility and done right.

Are you in a situation where it feels to hard?  Where you're struggling to respect your spouse?  I'm aware that you're out there.  I'm sorry.  Know that I'm praying for you today.   I would like to humbly suggest that you pray for a place to start, however basic.  What's one thing you respect about your husband?  Just fine one, and start from there.

I don't think we should call our husbands our "boys."  Let's honor them.  Let's call them what they are. Not our boys.  Not our burdens.  Not something to check off our task list.

But...our men.

how I met my husband

Twenty-one years ago, I met the man who would become my husband.  I didn't know it at that moment, and it has not always been an easy road.  We have had twists and turns, but he has had my heart for so many years now  - since long before we were wed.  Here is our story - at the beginning.

When I was 14 years old, my family changed churches.   We'd been attending a Presbyterian church in our small town, and for reasons I won't get into here, it was time to move.

Some friends recommended a little country church about 15 minutes out of town.  It was a tiny place, in a tiny town, but incredibly pretty.   I was struck by the simplicity of the place. The stained glass windows, the humble wooden pews, the hymns.  We began attending regularly, and gradually got to know the church other people who went there.  They were the salt of the earth, truly.

In June of 1991 my parents invited the pastor and his family to join us for dinner in our home.  They lived in another town, but came anyway.  This family had two boys.  One was three years old and cute as a button.  The other?  He had just turned 17.  He was tall and lanky, with shiny brown hair falling down across his forehead.  He moved in the gangly manner often seen in teenagers.  He had a nice smile, but it was his eyes which really caught my attention.

Oh, those eyes.  My diary would hear volumes about those blue, blue eyes.

His name was Jeff.

If I'm shy now, I was doubly so as a teen.  Not used to conversing with boys, incredibly self-conscious...  Yet somehow this guy felt easy to talk to.  He was good at drawing me into conversation - about school, and the Driver's Ed. classes I was taking that summer. He was nice to my younger brother too.  I clearly remember that the evening ended with the three of us out in front of my house.  My brother and this young man were tossing around a basketball, and I sat on the front step watching them. Watching him.

Something about it all felt magical to me.  Perhaps it was the mild summer evening, the dawning dusk, the fireflies.  Maybe it was the sweetness of  my first real talk with a boy - his attentiveness, his kindness, the way he included my little brother.  (His eyes definitely had something to do with it.)

I knew, in a way I couldn't quite define, that something important had happened.  Whether it was simply a turning point in my adolescence or something more, I couldn't say.  But I liked this boy, in a way I hadn't felt before.  Don't misunderstand: I'd had crushes prior to this.  Plenty of them.  Yet something about this felt very, very different.  Somehow I knew that after June 19, 1991, I would never be the same again.

15th on the 14th

Fifteen years ago, I married my best friend.  He has been my rock, my adviser, my partner, my lover, my sounding board, my support, and my friend.

Marrying this man was the best decision I have ever made.

I remember our wedding day.  It was a hot summer afternoon in northeastern Kansas, and I think the temperatures were in the 90s.  I remember that the sun was blazing down.

I remember the anticipation, the crowded country church.  i remember the very sweet, very young flower girl who wailed as she walked down the aisle.  But I remember that I was smiling as my father escorted me past our family and friends.  Some of these have passed on.  Some we haven't seen in years.  Some we see, happily, often.

I remember my groom's smile as well.  I remember the tears that flowed, the eager, famous "I will...I will."  I remember our mothers nearly forgetting to light the candles.  I remember looking at the young man beside me, believing that he was the only guy in the world for me.

I still believe that.

I wouldn't want to do this thing with anyone but my husband.  I am so, so grateful for the blessing he is in my life.

Happy Anniversary, Love.  I thank my God every time I remember you.  (Philippians 1:3)