The Great 31

            Recently my wonderful parents celebrated their 31^st wedding anniversary.  I wasn’t able to make them the traditional anniversary dinner.  In lieu of beef stroganoff, I wish to offer this post as a sort of emotional beef stroganoff: savory but not too mushy. 

Thirty One Reasons my Parents are Awesome:

(Not all of these have to do with their marriage, but rather the family God has built through them)

·       1)   Dancing to weather channel music…and then googling it, buying the whole album on iTunes, and explaining the “cool groove” to me

·        2) They apologize with ease.

·        3) Puns, lots of puns…and vegetable jokes

·        4)They try new things and adopt unusual hobbies, jumping in with both feet 

·        5) “From scratch” takes on a whole new meaning after watching mom whip up a meal or hearing dad grind down wheat for pancakes

·         6)They pour affirmation on me, even when I disagree.

·         7)They get passports when I go out of the country for the “Just in Case.”

·         8)Advice, mostly solicited advice.

·         9) They are hard-working and well respected.  I’m never embarrassed or ashamed to claim them as my heritage.  Unless there is dancing in public parking lots.

·         10)Willingness to drop everything and come to me when I need it.  This is not just a figure of speech.  I’m talking about ‘serious, taking time off work, I’ll be there tomorrow’ kinds of stuff.

·        11) Dad defends mom, even when that is from me. 

·        12)They know the Bible better than most people I know.  They know it and they treasure it.

·        13) Prayer happens a lot: on the phone, in the car, walking out the door.

·        14)They are able to buy each other clothes and actually love said clothes.

·        15) Nobody gets sensitive about Christmas lists with exact amazon links.  They make it simple and still act surprised.

·         16)They taught me what serving others really looks like: inviting people into your home and into your life.

·         17)They bestow unlimited forgiveness on each other…and hopefully me.

·         18)They took the time to make childhood bedtimes fun with lullabies and guitar sing-a-longs.

·         19)I am learning more and more the burden of taking care of a human being, namely myself.  They provide for their children without complaint.  That is two humans.

·         20) Movie quotes.  Conversations are peppered with, “Some things in here don’t react well to bullets,” as well as countless other ‘classics.’

·         21)They are cup half full people.  When we (the kids) couldn’t come for Christmas Day, they spent it in the pediatric ward of the hospital to distribute presents.

·         22) Their hands are always open in generosity.

·         23) Family lessons about safety first have prepared me for tornados, house fires, kidnappers, earthquakes, bio-terrorism, landslides, etc.

·        24)  Emotions are shared openly and sentiment is never downplayed.

·         25) They bring me down to earth when I contemplate cutting off my electricity.

·         26) They give me valuable lessons about life and boys like, “You only get one first impression.”  I may not take them all to heart, but I’m still glad that they try.

·         27) Education was displayed to me as an opportunity and a blessing.  I was allowed to push myself, but never crushed under the pressure for good grades.

·         28) They look at all of my pictures when I get back from any trip…along with listening to countless stories.

·         29) Together they are obviously something greater than when they are apart.

·         30) They keep me humble.  “We pay your friends to hang out with you.”

·         31) They love God. They have embodied that love in their marriage and lives.

Mom and Dad, I’m pretty sure you are the only people that read this the whole way through.  Happy anniversary and I love you.

Pedal to the Settle

Settle.  This word brings to mind many thoughts: of pilgrims colonizing a new land, of sediment compressing over time, of consigning oneself to the next best option, of progressing to a stage in life in which routine is normative.  None of those sound very appealing.

I’m the type of person that uses Pinterest to explore the world, not to peruse wedding dress necklines.

I’m the type of person that legitimately gets giddy in airports.

I was always up for the next adventure and I can remember a time in my life when I was downright phobic of 9-5 jobs.  (Thankfully, now, I work 7-4.)  The thought of staying in America made me feel trapped.  “Settling down” and “putting down roots” were far off notions.  But somewhere along the way, I got really tired of goodbyes.  I got tired of starting over every 6 months.  Getting to know people just enough to love them and then checking out seemed wrong.   

Now here I am…in America…two hours away from the town I grew up in.  It isn't very exotic.  Nine months seems like an eternity.  I’ve fought this settling thing, going as far as to treat my apartment as a place to camp out in rather than a home.  A nomad’s resting place.  I thought that this was what God wanted: Don’t get attached.  You will leave soon anyway.  Don’t get used to luxury. 

Recently I have been given the opportunity to move into a more permanent dwelling.  A place I can most accurately describe as a cottage.  Choosing to take advantage of this opportunity has been quite the struggle.  I have been confronted with some lies in my heart.  But I have learned that God wants me to invest.  If I go through and think about the different individuals that I have met since moving to this city, I can easily say, “That is worth my life.  That is worth the investment.”  No more camping out.  I am going to make this house a home.  I will invest in these people and this place.

I may someday leave this city.  But I am choosing to live this way:  If every day of my life is exactly the same as today, it is still a life that I am more than happy to live for God.  This life is worth it.  God has given me something great and I dare not insult his gift by living life anything less than abundantly.  Besides, if I do leave someday, I want it to be hard.  Really hard.  I want to have a life with so much love that saying goodbye is painful. 

Let the roots grow deep.