A Very "Fragmented" Update

Five and a half months.

That’s how long it’s been since we’ve “talked”. It’s also the length of time since I’ve had my hair cut or colored (gasp). I never had ANY intentions of ceasing to blog. In fact, I have missed it desperately! I also never had intentions of going on my first ever date, falling in love, getting engaged, planning a wedding, resigning my job, getting married, moving and beginning a new job in a new place with new people in SIX MONTHS! So please forgive the unintentional hiatus. I love this blog (and our connection through it) nearly as much as my husband’s truck. And I could make many excuses for my absence: I have no computer, we don’t have internet at home, being a new teacher sucked in my time like a vacuous monster...etc.

Honestly? My heart has been too raw and full of emotion and the chaos of change for me to pen anything that left the comfortable, safe pages of my journal. Not only that, but the immensity and breadth of what I’d love to share with you overwhelms me the moment I sit to share it. Should we talk about getting married after seven years of single adulthood? Maybe being newlyweds in the ministry? Perhaps transition: how to finish well and walk boldly into newness. In time I hope to share ALL these things! However,

a few things I have learned for certain....

Things like: life has no room for perfectionism. I could not finish my job perfectly, become perfect before I walked down the aisle, plan the perfect wedding, be a perfect teacher on my first day, and I'm certainly far from a perfect (or Proverbs 31) wife. (Did that woman lose consciousness at the age of 29? I have no idea how she did what she did. I wish she wouldn't have at times; she feels like that big sister and I hear a consistent nagging from my own soul, "why can't you be more like...?".)

The core of all life is generosity and selflessness. If I live each day wondering how much I can give, I never have to think about what I'll get. And what comes back is far more than I could have "gotten".

A lot of change is big, not bad. My husband coined this little phrase to help me through the past few months. "Big, not bad, Amanda. It's a huge mountain to climb. But I'm with you." All the little changes amount to one, large, earth-moving, heart-wrenching, seismic shift. And he has understood that so well. He's been patient while I've cried, mourned even, because so many things will never be the same. BIG, big things. And very small, seemingly insignificant things. It's be a few weeks since a good cry, so two were in order today. One when I saw some girls shopping together on a TV show. As they "ooo!"ed and "nice!"ed one girl's outfit, tears welled up in my eyes. I miss my girls. Then, listening to Pandora as I type this, a Publix ad ran. My settings still say "33884" and, I have to be honest, I can't bring myself to change it yet! I miss Publix; I don't like Food Lion. So much change at once is disorienting. Single to married. Pastor to pastor's wife. Administrator to teacher. Warm to cold. But every one of these is big, not bad. And I've learned to embrace my new role(s). Blessed are the flexible, right?

India Arie has a song called "I Am Not My Hair". It's been six months since my hair was cut. Eight since it was colored. Five since I had my nails done. Six months since I browsed through Macy's. I've had a major wardrobe shift for work. I used to wear jeans to work every day. Now, I wear dress slacks five days a week for work and three times a week to church. I have two pairs of dress pants. One. Two. Talk about a limited wardrobe for a girl who enjoys fashion. BUT. I am not my hair...or my clothes...or my nails...and, I've been forced to rediscover my true identity and be at peace with myself all over again. Big, not bad.

Maintenance must be done. Laundry. Papers to grade. House to clean. Family and friends to keep up with. Date nights. Grocery shopping. Church events. PTO meetings. Bills to check on. Errands to run. If I do a little of every, single thing every, single day, nothing has the opportunity to smother me. My husband has taught me this well. He seldom spends "unproductive" time. TV shows are opportunities to sort mail. The last ten minutes before sleep is a moment to catch up on reading material. A spare moment at the office is time to collect sermon thoughts for the next one. He's good at using time. And he challenges me. So, today after work we picked up needed items at Wal Mart, ate dinner, worked out, *blogged (while he writes a sermon for tomorrow morning), and then we'll do a little reading together. Maintenance makes life much more bearable. As one of my professors told me, "How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time."

And there's no fire anywhere. Yes, we've been married for more than two weeks. And both of my sisters-in-law just had babies. Wonderful, cuter-than-anybody-else-not-related-to-us babies. BUT! Webb and I are still trying to decide if we'll buy two loaves of bread for the rest of our lives, one white and one wheat. (Though we've settled the milk issue...2% it is.) And we're aware there's only so long that you get to be a tiny, tiny bit selfish. So, we plan to wait a while. Unless Jesus interrupts those plans! Which we would happily embrace (while we also 'embraced the grace' needed for that moment. Yikes!).

Most of all, God is faithful and you can trust Him. Things change. God does not. He doesn't lie. He doesn't change His mind. And through every season, He's my constant. I may not feel like myself at times: I'm not doing what I use to, I'm not dressing like I did, I'm not with who I was. Nearly everything has changed. But the same song I sang to Him six months ago still resonates in my spirit. The same scriptures that enveloped me with comfort scroll through my heart. He is forever.

More to come...I wish I could say when! But I can say, it won't be five months!

And the Bride...ate ice cream

I have struggled with my weight my whole, livelong, entire life. It's been a daily difficulty - striving to make good choices, falling off the wagon, starting over. Though my weight hasn't fluctuated greatly, my dress size has always been a great matter of stress and anxiety for me.

When I started to think I may be getting married, my initial thought was, "I've got to go on a diet! I want to lose at least ___ pounds before a wedding!!!" And I thought back to every friend I've stood beside as they've starved, sweated and strained to reach their "wedding weight". My next thought was, "Do I want to be a skinny bride, or a happy bride?"

Though those two things don't need to be mutually exclusive, I felt that if I pinned all my desire for weight loss on my wedding, the overall wedding happiness and bridal bliss might suffer. Weight loss for me is a longterm goal and a life-altering experience. It's not a superficial, how-do-I-look, sort of a thing.

One of my favorite parts of planning my wedding is that I've been able to do much of it with one of my "fristers" (friend/sister). Meagan and I quickly realized that we had the same ideology about the bridal weight loss campaign.

One afternoon, as we ran some errands for Meagan's wedding, we decided we needed a frosty from Wendy's to keep our motivation flowing. As we drove away, jr frosties in hand, Pastor Mom quipped, "Girls! We've got weddings coming up. This will be our last frosty for quite some time!"

Meagan and I glanced at each other, shrugged, and scraped the bottom of our cups for the last bit of ice cream. You could tell our sentiment was, "Maybe the last frosty for you!".

With so many things to worry about in planning a wedding (and a move at the same time!), becoming my goal weight in the bat of an eye just can't fit on my plate (pun completely intended). That will come, in time.

For now, I will revel in the fact that I will be the most beautiful, size *cough cough* bride you have EVER SEEN!

I have lists of to-do's and to-call and to-pay strewn all over my house. Along with the clean laundry I haven't had a moment to fold. My fridge is wondering if it will ever see food again as a half-eaten watermelon and a bottle of water stare out at me. And my purse looks like I've been collecting trash from the side of the road in it. But - one step at a time, it's all getting done!

Thanks for all your prayers and encouragement. I got an extra special FB message last week from someone who planned their wedding in a similar predicament - no mom, moh or fiance in the tri-county area! Thank you for your kind words.

And now, it's off to a day of wedding work!

________________________________________________________

This has been such an emotional time, and today is no exception. Today marks one year since the loss of my Grandmother. I miss her especially now, as this important day approaches. I can't believe she didn't get to meet Webb (or should I say, he didn't get to meet her?). But I am comforted today by God's loving hand. He knows...

(the message and picture above are from Rep. Gabby Giffords)

we miss your smile.

A Time for Rejoicing

There are just under forty days until our wedding. Those words make me grin every time, without fail. "Our wedding". Unbelievable.

I am still in awe every, single day of the man Jesus has brought into my life. If you and I could have a cup of coffee together, I would share with you in great detail the miracle that God has done. For now, let me just tell you a little!

In my life, I have made three different prayer lists as I sought the heart of God about my husband. I made at list at 16 years old, one at 21 years old and one at 26 years old. Then, I “shelved” them. Looked at them maybe once a year and, generally, forgot what I put on them! I itemized the last list I made into two parts: “must-haves” and “icing”.

Of all these lists, and the dozens of traits, qualities, giftings and experiences on them, my soon-to-be-husband (and his family) is nearly exactly what I prayed! In fact, there are only three little details that aren't precisely who he is. And…they just happen to be “icing” items. God has done exceedingly, abundantly more than I could have asked or imagined.

Yes, way more. In all of that listing, there were a few things I didn't know I needed. And somehow…He knew. And brought even those to me in the form of a man who loves me passionately and unconditionally. He does all things well.

I have a picture frame on my wall given to me by our incredible Young Adults group. It’s inscribed, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” Albert Einstein.

The pressure of this time is quite challenging. And there is great temptation to stop my celebrating, look away from the miracle God has done and focus on the task at hand and all the impossibilities therein.

The “reality”?: We just made a bittersweet announcement to our church this morning - Webb and I will be making our home in North Carolina as we begin our life together. And, though we both know we've heard God's heart about our move, I have only three Sundays left at the most special place of my life thus far. This means that, in less than 40 days, I will plan a wedding, organize a move, try to finish (with excellence) a job I have always felt deserved far more than I am capable of, and try to give all the time and attention I possibly can to loved ones here who I will miss so dearly.

And, as the Lord would see it fit, my family (including my Mom who is the most efficient planner I know) lives in Arizona. My fiancé is 700 miles away. And my “sister” and maid-of-honor just moved to Chicago.

You can imagine that there is great opportunity for joy-stealing! Pressure, stress and anxiety can be the devil’s playground.

But the truth? “The joy of the Lord is my strength”! And that truth is far greater than any “reality”. Joy, true and deep abiding joy, is not only a gift from God…it is a choice. I stretch out my hands to receive joy and with it comes the strength I need to walk today. It’s a cruel trick the enemy plays – if he can take our joy, he truly can sap our strength.

This is why Paul says, “Rejoice! Again I say, REJOICE!” Not just because it’s so vital that we’re happy. But because when we rejoice, a seismic shift happens in our spiritual atmosphere. God gets full credit for the miracle He has done, our hearts absorb the truth of Hs goodness at the deepest level, and the enemy’s tactics are shot. All because we chose joy.

So…the moving boxes might not be inventoried just how I’d like. And the wedding reception might be missing a few things. And there may be loose ends beyond my grasp in my job.

But you know what I'll do instead of worry? Rejoice. Deeply and with abandon.

Because the truth is…the deepest dream of my heart has come to pass. And to stay – forever. And the miracle of the moment deserves my full attention.

Part 3 (and a little 4)

The questions turned as quickly as the tires on the interstate. We decided a meeting location where he would pick me up and my friends would drive on. I can’t lie; I wanted to drive on with them. It was an overwhelming moment. But we drove up and parked beside his truck, and I took a deep breath...

________________________________________________________________

When we pulled up beside Webb's truck, I was totally overwhelmed. He got out and came around to help with my bags and as I stood up, I almost passed out! No joke. The situation was like, four-fold nervousness. 1.) I was seeing Webb. 2.) I was meeting his family (and we didn't even know if we were going to seriously date). 3.) I was preaching for their ladies retreat the next morning. 4.) I was going to stay the night with all of these ladies (none of whom had I met before). The result? Almost passing out.

Webb was so good to me; instead of rushing straight to the retreat, he took me to dinner to give me a moment between driving 12 hours and meeting dozens of new people. I made note of his consideration; he seemed to do that well in every way (opening doors, paying for dinner, inquiring of what I wanted/needed at any given moment). I now have a wonderful, soon-to-be, mom-in-law to thank for such habits! We had fun at dinner and, way too soon, it was time to go. He dropped me off at the retreat with some fabulous ladies and in the care of his wonderful mom and sister, and we said goodnight.

The next day, Saturday, he picked me up at the conclusion of the retreat. We ate lunch together and, afterwards, he opened up a serious conversation. (The passing out feeling returned). We were driving along and I felt lightheaded as he talked. I can't remember most of what he said, though I'm sure it was super eloquent and important. I just remember the conclusion:

"What do you think about making this official?"

...silence...

"Not exactly the answer I was anticipating. But, uhm...yeah...take your time."

"Have you really thought about this? I mean really thought about it? How will we date from 700 miles? And what will we do if we decide to move forward from dating? And how will we even be sure we know each other? And what if...and what about...and...and...???"

He quietly and patiently drove in circles while I (no easy way to put this) flipped out.

"Amanda. Why do you think it's taken me so long to ask you this question? Yes. I have thought about all of this."

"And you're ok with it? You're not freaked out?! I mean seriously...this is nuts!"

"I've just come to the conclusion that it will all work out if God intends it to."

...silence...

The passing out feeling got more intense. I looped my arm through his, with huge eyes, and asked, "Is this ok even though I don't know how to answer you right now?"

He smiled, "Yes. Take your time. You don't have to answer now, this weekend, or even a week from now."

My heart unclinched. I had an answer about him. But, everything else? I had no idea about anything else. And just because you might fall in love with someone doesn't mean everything else will just work out. Only in movies, right? Should I make a heart decision or a head decision? Why can't this just be simple?

It was time for dinner with his family. I'll never forget how much, and how hard, we laughed through that whole dinner. I had a headache by the end! It felt so much like home. And yet, I still had no answer.

Sunday passed. I tried to work up the nerve to answer him Sunday night - but it came across more as a "maybe" than a "yes I want to date you with all my whole heart". Monday, we met our friends Meagan and Nathan in Manteo (about an hour away). On the way, we shared our whole stories. All of our hearts. We cried. We laughed. And then we had a blast hanging out with good friends.

On the way back, I finally had my answer. "I think I'd like to date you..." (I meant, I think I'd like to be with you for a very, very long time. But "eh, you're alright I guess" is what came out.)

"Yes? Is that a yes?" he made certain.

"That's a yes. Yes."

"Really?! Ok. Yes. Let's do this..."

Texting, turned into phone calls, which turned into Skyping, which turned into visits which, three months later, became...

So...I guess we may need a part four now! There are so many pages to this love story, the biggest blessing in my life so far and the most specifically and perfectly answered prayer.

Thank you for letting me share it with you.

Part 2 of My Favorite Story

Ok, so part two!

You know those little, flirty texts you exchange and then have to keep yourself from smiling? Because if you smile, everyone else in the room will need to know who you’re talking to? Yeah. We started exchanging some of those. And the really awkward and embarrassing question of “how loud do you scream?” ended up being a great conversation starter.

We talked on the phone from time to time, getting to know each other. “So where did you grow up?” “What’s your family like?” “What made you want to go into ministry?” We laughed. A lot. And phone calls became a little more frequent.

I started evaluating everything I knew about Webb from college. And everything I saw about him while we attended church together (three years prior). I replayed the drive from the airport, how it was comfortable, easy and so much fun. And a “thought” turned into real, actual interest. I began to consider this guy named Webb and ponder all his possibly potential qualities.

But by March, I realized this interest was one-sided – my side. I knew he wasn’t in the same place. He had been quite honest about that (when we had the dreaded, horrifyingly awkward “define the relationship” talk.)

So, I pulled the e-brake. “I don’t really let many people get into these spaces of my life. And I just can’t keep opening my heart to you this way.” (I also knew he had some other “friends” with whom he shared his life. Totally normal for him, and probably the rest of the world. But just not doable for me.) I told him I didn’t want to keep up the talking.

I felt good about it. This was March of 2010 and I was happy to be back to my old, free-of-any-thought-of-a-relationship life. Things were simple. I missed talking to Webb in moments, but I felt a lot more sane! Things were good.

Until four months later. When my grandmother passed away my first inclination was to call Webb. That inclination made me angry. So I text instead. I was annoyed with myself for breaking my commitment to myself and my vow of silence. But...shrug.

…Texting, turned into phone calls, which turned into conversations, which…you get it. Our friendship continued…

By January of this year, I found myself feeling just like I did last spring. I needed this friendship to become something, or nothing. The land of the gray just wasn’t going to work out for me. Telling myself I’d be fine with either scenario, I sent an email. A very vulnerable email. And asked for the same sort of response - real. Which came three weeks later. (Three weeks. Yes. Three weeks. “Did you talk to each other in those three weeks?” you might ask. Yes, yes we did. For hours in fact. And Mr. Hoggard never found it timely to bring up the email. I was too stubborn to mention it. So I waited.)

And then…a text message.

I couldn’t believe two things: he was deciding to address the email and he was doing so through text. But it opened the conversation, so I listened.

“About your email…”

That night we realized that we didn’t have to know everything. We didn’t need to be perfect to try things out. We just needed to know that we wanted to know…and that much, we knew. So we took our first step. We wouldn’t make things official or public. We’d just not date other people and commit to learning more about each other.

That was February. And by March, we took the leap to make an actual visit. Well, actually, I took the leap. I got in the car with friends who were making a trip to NC and traveled 700 miles. My heart trapped somewhere between my toes and my throat. I had no idea what I would find. Would I actually like being with him? Would it be awkward? What would his family think? His church? Would he measure up to what he had portrayed on the phone? Would I feel comfortable with him?...

The questions turned as quickly as the tires on the interstate. We decided a meeting location where he would pick me up and my friends would drive on. I can’t lie; I wanted to drive on with them. It was an overwhelming moment. But we drove up and parked beside his truck, and I took a deep breath.

…

Part 1

So…there’s this guy….

(I’ve waited 26 years to say that!)

What a story this is. I always hoped that when Jesus brought his man for me the story would be detailed, beautiful and hilarious. And it’s everything I ever dreamed of – the man and the story.

Because it’s so detailed, I’m going to post it in segments. Too much to tell all at once! But let me just say this before I say anything else:

The wait is worthwhile. Every hour. Every minute. Every single second.

You know those fated “lists” that they talk you into making when you’re a teenager? Somebody says something like, “Write down everything you want in a future spouse. Make a list. Keep it and pray for them.”

Hopeless romantic that I am, I labored over a list. I really sat and thought about every, random little thing I could possibly want and I wrote it down. I gave it to one of our youth leaders, a dear friend of mine now, Chasity. She’s been praying over it ever since. For ten years. One of my favorite parts of this story? This man is every line of that list! From frivolous to spiritual – he is every, single thing. And more...

I embraced those ten years of waiting as best I could. I grew; I learned about God and myself. I sensed how full of purpose it was. And I thanked God for grace and patience. All the while, He was working, weaving everything together to create this intricate, beautiful tapestry.

So, without further adieu – a love story…

_________________________________________________________

In December of 2009, I was on my Grandmother’s porch, savoring the last of our holiday vacation. I sprawled out on the porch swing, soaking up the gentle December sunlight and smiling, thankful for the time. “I still don’t know how I’m getting home from the airport...” I thought. I dismissed the notion just as quickly as it came; it didn’t really matter at the moment. I was enjoying time with family and didn’t want the reality check of booking a ride home.

My feet brushed the pavement of the porch as I continued swinging. There hadn’t been a more beautiful day in Arizona that winter: perfectly mild, optimistically bright and just breezy enough to wash over me with calm. I was in the zone.

And then, my phone rang. My mind immediately scrolled through what could possibly be going on at the church. But, as I grabbed my phone, I saw it was a friend from college. I questioned for a moment, but then, I knew exactly what he wanted. You see, when he graduated, he left a television with my roommate. When she got married, she left that television with me. He wanted it back.

“But he lives in North Carolina. How am I even supposed to get him that TV? I really don’t want to deal with that right now.” My thumb reached for “ignore”, and then my conscience took over. I answered.

He explained he was driving to Florida soon and wanted to swing by and get the TV. I told him, “that’d be great, but, I’m in Arizona.”

“Well, when do you come back?”

(Sheez, he really wants this stinking TV.) “Uhm, I fly in the 29^th. When do you come down?”

“Just a little before that, but I’ll be in Orlando.”

And then it occurred to me – shazam! – he could get me from the airport and take me home. I get a taxi service; he gets a TV. Done.

We were acquaintances in college. I knew him as the hysterical, social scene, kind of guy. He was all about ministry, especially music, and had tons of friends.

I was working. Always. In fact, I’m surprised I came out of college with any friends at all. That’s just the providence of God. So, while I knew who he was, I didn’t know Webb at all really. And he didn’t know me.

When I arrived in Orlando, I drug my overpacked, Christmas-gift-stuffed, bags off the belt and stepped onto the curb, looking for his truck. Nowhere in sight. I called, “Are you here?”

“Yeah, I’m coming around.”

“Oh, ok…didn’t see your truck.”

“Yeah, I’m driving a big, white van.”

“Van?”

“For the missionaries?”

“Right. Ok.”

He pulled up. In a big, embarrassing church van, just as he had described. His buddy Matt was with him, and jumped out of the passenger seat, hefting my bags into the back of the van like quite the gentleman. I slid into the second row seat. Small chat ensued.

A lull in conversation came and Webb caught my eye in the rearview mirror. I smiled slightly and tilted my head as to say, “yes?”

And then he popped the question. A terribly awkward, story-making question. “So,” (insert long pause here), “how loud do you scream?”

Totally bewildered and, to be honest, a little freaked out, I just stared. His words caught up with him. “Wait! No, no! That’s not what I meant! I mean…”

And suddenly, another of his friends who had been in hiding, lunged at me from the backseat and shook my shoulders in an attempt to scare me. I continued staring (more weirded out by Webb's question than the scare attempt).

Inner monologue? “This is going to be the longest ride home ever. Dear. Lord.”

Webb tried to bail himself out of the awkward comment again, “Ok..so, I just was…we were trying to scare…sigh…”

I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. And his guys gave him grief all the way home.

Webb’s possibly the funniest person I have ever met. In a one-hour trip from the airport, I laughed more than I had in the past year. He played along well with the hazing from his friends. And I had a headache by the time we pulled up to my apartment.

He sealed the deal of my “interest” when he carried both of my ginormous suitcases up the stairs in one trip, with little effort. “I’ve gotta get me one of these,” I thought.

He dropped off the bags, picked up the TV, I said thanks and off he went. I couldn’t help but hope I would hear from him again.

And I did...

Erasing Hell

The discussion on hell continues. Thought these words from Chan were sensitive and wise. Your thoughts?