First off, got to go to AARON and MEGAN's wedding today!!! Kudos to the new Mr. and Mrs. A-Luv! Just watching his face throughout the ceremony was a fun experience; he looked, as my dad put it later, like a little kid on Christmas morning. He and Megan are such a blessing; it's been so neat to watch them come into our church, pray to receive Christ, grow in the Lord, fall in love, and now start a new life together as husband and wife.
We're kinda just chillin at home right now; Lana's lying on the bed reading Calvin and Hobbes (we got the complete three-volume collection as a wedding present from wonderful Uncle John and Aunt Angie!) while I post. She made the most awesome stuff for dinner tonight. I just asked her what it's called and she bravely made up the title of "Creamy...Rice and...Chicken Bake". Sounds good to me, love. Anyways, it is fantastic; all you cook-type people have got to get the recipe from her. She told me it's an old family recipe, dating back to about 5:00 this afternoon.
Married life is quite fun. I don't want to pretend that it's always easy; things like overflowing garbage and wrinkled pants and black bean soup that didn't turn out just right, do pop up from time to time. But we are so happy; God has blessed us so much, and it is so cool to be together as husband and wife.
So, my final verdict on courtship, now that I have forever left it? I am more convinced than ever that it is absolutely worth it. Wait on the Lord, wait, wait, wait, and He will bless you a hundredfold for it. It may not seem like such a big deal to dabble with that special someone now, to dip your toes in the whirlpool of romance and swirl them around. But I can tell you, after holding back and finally being freed to give my everything to my bride, that doing things God's way is infinitely better than doing what excites us at the time. Do not awaken love until its appropriate time, the Bible says. Do not, DO NOT, DO NOT!! There, I'm done preaching...for now.
As for the wedding, yes, I hope to post some pics at some point. I'm sure you've seen Lana's blog (if not, go check it out, for pete's sake!); she's got a lot of photos there. For now, all I'll say about the wedding is:
"Since the invention of the kiss, there have been five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one left them all behind."
God bless ya'll, and I hope to post again sooner (and who knows, maybe I'll have some news on that elusive most anticipated film of the year!).
Showing posts with label courtship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label courtship. Show all posts
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
The Return to Narnia (or wherever)
Just a quickie for now as my lovely wife and I are about to depart and (finally) watch The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian.
I want to thank you guys so much for praying for us and encouraging us through the months of our courtship. It seemed like forever, but now the waiting is over, and we've just begun.
I'll try to provide a more detailed post about the wedding in the next couple of days, because of course I want to talk about it. No pictures yet, sorry, the only one I've seen is on my wonderful mother-in-law's blog (pursuingjoy.blogspot.com). If you have pictures, please please please send them to me (or post them on your blog); my wife and I (and quite a few other people) really want to see them!
Man, there's so much to talk about, but no time now, Narnia is calling us back!
God bless you all; no, we aren't abandoning our blogs; and yes, in case you're wondering (and I'm sure you are), MARRIED LIFE ROCKS MY FACE OFF!!!
I want to thank you guys so much for praying for us and encouraging us through the months of our courtship. It seemed like forever, but now the waiting is over, and we've just begun.
I'll try to provide a more detailed post about the wedding in the next couple of days, because of course I want to talk about it. No pictures yet, sorry, the only one I've seen is on my wonderful mother-in-law's blog (pursuingjoy.blogspot.com). If you have pictures, please please please send them to me (or post them on your blog); my wife and I (and quite a few other people) really want to see them!
Man, there's so much to talk about, but no time now, Narnia is calling us back!
God bless you all; no, we aren't abandoning our blogs; and yes, in case you're wondering (and I'm sure you are), MARRIED LIFE ROCKS MY FACE OFF!!!
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
What happened one year ago today
It was Tuesday, and we were sitting in American Lit class, my best friend and me. Occupying our usual seats in adjacent desks on the left side of the large classroom, near the front. Usually she made it to the classroom before I did, was sitting there waiting; and we would chat before class.
At about 9:29 am, Professor Ann Winters walked into the room, holding some highly-anticipated documents: our graded papers. Our assignment had been to write papers on the role of family in one of the short stories we had read early in the semester. Lana and I had each decided, independently, to write about "The Revolt of 'Mother'" by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman. We had gathered sources, written, rewritten, had writing conferences with Ms. Winters, and finally turned in our final copies to her. Now anxiously we awaited the verdict, the grade, the pronouncement of doom.
The good professor began to walk around the room, distributing graded papers to various students. She handed Lana's paper to her; my best friend flipped through it till she could see the grade, and immediately burst into tears. Oh no.
Her paper had received a grade of 69. Not because of the quality of the writing, but because of a technicality on sources. Ms. Winters had told us earlier in the semester that in order to make a C or higher on the paper, we had to exactly follow the rules on how many sources were in our paper.
Lana had been unsure of whether her secondary sources qualified to meet the rules. But since she had met with Mrs. Winters to look at the paper, and Mrs. Winters hadn't said anything about the sources, Lana assumed they were fine.
She was wrong. And she didn't make a C or higher on the paper. And now she was crying, and asking Mrs. Winters why she had received this grade.
The professor didn't budge. She told Lana that the guidelines for sources had been clearly laid out on our assignment sheet. However, she said, she was willing to let Lana fix the sources and turn in the paper again for a new grade; Lana's final grade for the paper would then be a composite of the old grade and the new.
It was a merciful deal, on the whole, but Lana's poor grade had wounded her. She wept off and on throughout the entire class. Once or twice she looked over at me, but I had no words for her. Even with Ms. Winters' willingness to regrade the paper, Lana's grade wouldn't be as high as it should have been.
The class discussion covered a couple of poems by Robert Frost: "Design" and "Out, Out --". My notes only show the rhyme scheme of the poems, though I'm certain we discussed them much more deeply. I tried to pay attention, but I was mostly focusing on my friend and how bad I felt for her.
At the end of class, we gathered our backpacks and walked out of the Holt building, heading for our next class in the Gardner building. Beginning to cry again, Lana talked about how she felt betrayed by Mrs. Winters. I wanted to say something, anything, to comfort her, to make her feel better. All I could do was listen, and sympathize.
Now we were sitting in the Gardner lecture hall, with about ten minutes till the American Revolution class started. Lana was still trying to control her tears. I glanced over at her, then looked away again.
And at that moment I fell in love with my best friend. Emotions I had never felt before began to sweep over me. I looked at her and knew that now, in this moment, I loved her as I had never loved her before, as I would never love anyone else. While she cried over her grade, while I sat in silence, I knew that I had irrevocably crossed a line.
From the very first summer I met Lana (2003), I had prayed about her as a prospect for marriage. I was careful as I prayed, never assuming what was God's will, pleading with Him to show me one way or the other and to allow me to keep my heart undefiled. He didn't show me, not for a long, long time. I became Lana's friend, and then her close friend, and then her best friend, and all the while I grew increasingly more attracted to her. But my heart was still mine; I had not given any part of it to her.
Now it was all hers. And for the first time I allowed myself to feel the feelings that I had shunned for so long. I knew that God had at last revealed His answer to me, had shown me that this crying young woman beside me was to be my bride. And I loved her.
In class that day, Dr. Robert Willoughby lectured on the American-British standoff at Boston in 1775, after the Battle of Bunker Hill. His lecture, as always, was engrossing and enlightening; I took diligent, copious notes, but my mind was rather elsewhere.
And Lana Marie had no idea, would have no idea for nearly six months. We grew even closer as friends, and spent a lot more time in class together, and worked on a movie together, and prayed for each other. She thought that perhaps someday I would ask to court her. Someday, some far-off time in the future. Maybe.
And she didn't know, not till a candle-lit evening in August, that I was madly in love with her, a passion both utterly secret and wholly pure.
It was February 27, 2007. One year ago today.
At about 9:29 am, Professor Ann Winters walked into the room, holding some highly-anticipated documents: our graded papers. Our assignment had been to write papers on the role of family in one of the short stories we had read early in the semester. Lana and I had each decided, independently, to write about "The Revolt of 'Mother'" by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman. We had gathered sources, written, rewritten, had writing conferences with Ms. Winters, and finally turned in our final copies to her. Now anxiously we awaited the verdict, the grade, the pronouncement of doom.
The good professor began to walk around the room, distributing graded papers to various students. She handed Lana's paper to her; my best friend flipped through it till she could see the grade, and immediately burst into tears. Oh no.
Her paper had received a grade of 69. Not because of the quality of the writing, but because of a technicality on sources. Ms. Winters had told us earlier in the semester that in order to make a C or higher on the paper, we had to exactly follow the rules on how many sources were in our paper.
Lana had been unsure of whether her secondary sources qualified to meet the rules. But since she had met with Mrs. Winters to look at the paper, and Mrs. Winters hadn't said anything about the sources, Lana assumed they were fine.
She was wrong. And she didn't make a C or higher on the paper. And now she was crying, and asking Mrs. Winters why she had received this grade.
The professor didn't budge. She told Lana that the guidelines for sources had been clearly laid out on our assignment sheet. However, she said, she was willing to let Lana fix the sources and turn in the paper again for a new grade; Lana's final grade for the paper would then be a composite of the old grade and the new.
It was a merciful deal, on the whole, but Lana's poor grade had wounded her. She wept off and on throughout the entire class. Once or twice she looked over at me, but I had no words for her. Even with Ms. Winters' willingness to regrade the paper, Lana's grade wouldn't be as high as it should have been.
The class discussion covered a couple of poems by Robert Frost: "Design" and "Out, Out --". My notes only show the rhyme scheme of the poems, though I'm certain we discussed them much more deeply. I tried to pay attention, but I was mostly focusing on my friend and how bad I felt for her.
At the end of class, we gathered our backpacks and walked out of the Holt building, heading for our next class in the Gardner building. Beginning to cry again, Lana talked about how she felt betrayed by Mrs. Winters. I wanted to say something, anything, to comfort her, to make her feel better. All I could do was listen, and sympathize.
Now we were sitting in the Gardner lecture hall, with about ten minutes till the American Revolution class started. Lana was still trying to control her tears. I glanced over at her, then looked away again.
And at that moment I fell in love with my best friend. Emotions I had never felt before began to sweep over me. I looked at her and knew that now, in this moment, I loved her as I had never loved her before, as I would never love anyone else. While she cried over her grade, while I sat in silence, I knew that I had irrevocably crossed a line.
From the very first summer I met Lana (2003), I had prayed about her as a prospect for marriage. I was careful as I prayed, never assuming what was God's will, pleading with Him to show me one way or the other and to allow me to keep my heart undefiled. He didn't show me, not for a long, long time. I became Lana's friend, and then her close friend, and then her best friend, and all the while I grew increasingly more attracted to her. But my heart was still mine; I had not given any part of it to her.
Now it was all hers. And for the first time I allowed myself to feel the feelings that I had shunned for so long. I knew that God had at last revealed His answer to me, had shown me that this crying young woman beside me was to be my bride. And I loved her.
In class that day, Dr. Robert Willoughby lectured on the American-British standoff at Boston in 1775, after the Battle of Bunker Hill. His lecture, as always, was engrossing and enlightening; I took diligent, copious notes, but my mind was rather elsewhere.
And Lana Marie had no idea, would have no idea for nearly six months. We grew even closer as friends, and spent a lot more time in class together, and worked on a movie together, and prayed for each other. She thought that perhaps someday I would ask to court her. Someday, some far-off time in the future. Maybe.
And she didn't know, not till a candle-lit evening in August, that I was madly in love with her, a passion both utterly secret and wholly pure.
It was February 27, 2007. One year ago today.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
A day draws near
"A day draws near that I have looked for in all the years of my manhood, and when it comes I would have my friends beside me." - Aragorn, The Return of the King
I remember driving home in near-total ecstasy on the night of Thursday, August 23, unable to believe what God had just allowed me to experience with the love of my life. Since I am, of course, a Lord of the Rings nerd, the above quote popped into my brain, and I resolved to post it on my blog.
Except, I quickly realized, it wasn't really that appropriate for the onset of my and Lana's courtship. It would find more apt use in the announcement of our wedding date. Accordingly, I give it now.
It gives me great pleasure to announce to the breathless ears of cyberspace, that if the Lord wills, Lana Marie and I will be united in holy matrimony on Friday, May 23. Please mark your calendars and make your plans accordingly.
As for where the wedding and reception will take place and what time, we'll let you know when we get a little closer to May 23.
Shalom out, my Hebrew homies.
I remember driving home in near-total ecstasy on the night of Thursday, August 23, unable to believe what God had just allowed me to experience with the love of my life. Since I am, of course, a Lord of the Rings nerd, the above quote popped into my brain, and I resolved to post it on my blog.
Except, I quickly realized, it wasn't really that appropriate for the onset of my and Lana's courtship. It would find more apt use in the announcement of our wedding date. Accordingly, I give it now.
It gives me great pleasure to announce to the breathless ears of cyberspace, that if the Lord wills, Lana Marie and I will be united in holy matrimony on Friday, May 23. Please mark your calendars and make your plans accordingly.
As for where the wedding and reception will take place and what time, we'll let you know when we get a little closer to May 23.
Shalom out, my Hebrew homies.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Two Months of Me and Lana, the Couple
All righty, my sunshine princess wrote an absolutely lovely post on her blog, so if you haven't checked that out (musingsofaservantprincess.blogspot.com), go look at it first; I won't go anywhere in the meantime. The reason I say to read hers first, other than how wonderful it is, is because my post began as a comment for hers and then wouldn't stop growing.
Wow, two whole months since the courtship began, and four years and change since we met! To think you guys (Lana's family, that is) have added three future siblings-in-law for me since that first meeting. I had no idea, my dearest, that you had memorized our names in the directory; that's great! Maybe some unconscious premonition about the *different* family you would one day be a part of.
I think I gradually got to know Lana through the visits to her family's house (all of us kids swam together in their pool; that was fun) and through a Christian worldview Co-op class we took together. That was where I really became impressed with her passion for God, her obvious intelligence, and her love of reading. Some time thereabouts or afterward, my mom told me Lana wanted to start a Christian magazine for teens. Mom thought I might be interested. She's such a matchmaker! (Aw, just kidding; I know the thought had to have crossed her mind, but she wouldn't do that.) Anyways, we started trading e-mails about the mag, continued to see each other when our families were together, and gradually became really good friends.
Then college reared its beautiful head. Lana had originally planned on going to the U of A in Fayetteville (WOO PIG SOOIEE!!!) and majoring in agriculture. But ultimately she decided God was instead leading her to attend the majestic University of Arkansas-Fort Smith and major in Rhetoric and Writing. Guess who had already made his plans to do the same thing?
So yeah, taking classes together and seeing each other every day, on top of the friendship we already had, pretty much cinched that our friendship would grow a lot closer. Of course, I say that in hindsight.
But yeah, I had prayed about her for a really long time, probably since I was like fifteen. I was committed to not giving any part of my heart to her without knowing for sure that we were to marry, but I can't deny hoping that she was the one. I can't deny being basically convinced that she was the one.
I just needed that freedom born of certainty, and it came on Tuesday, February 27, when I fell in love with her and then realized that God had allowed me to, and that she truly was going to be my girl.
So I pined for six months, never hinting anything to her, waiting for the ripe moment; and then I talked to our parents, helped her dad put some candles on the pond, and declared myself on August 23.
Everything in our friendship before that night seems vague, somehow. I try to remember it and think about it, since it represents a beautiful time now that we have moved together into a more beautiful time. But I can't get inside my head, the way I thought and loved then; I think back to treasured memories and I view myself like a character in a play, detached.
And that's okay, because I wouldn't go back to the days of silence for anything. I love Lana and she loves me, and we both know it, and the world does, and that's the way it's supposed to be. And when I leave my father and mother and unite with her and we become one flesh, I know I won't want to go back to these days for anything. But I treasure them now.
So there it is, the first two months of courtship. But I will never, as long as I live, forget the first two hours. Gazing into each other's eyes across the candles, seeing something in the other that we had never seen before. Realizing, again and again, that this is it, our time as singles and just friends is over, and I really am going to enjoy the rest of my life with the most beautiful girl I've ever seen at my side. What I saw in her eyes as I told her I loved her for the first time, and what she saw in mine as she returned my love.
It was a sweet two hours, Lana, and it has been a sweet two months. I have drawn closer to you, opened up more of myself to you, fallen even more in love with you (and I didn't realize that was possible). But positionally, my relationship with you has not changed since that fateful day at the end of February, and it never will: I am truly yours.
"You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride. You have captured my heart with one glance of your eyes..." - Song of Solomon 4:9
Wow, two whole months since the courtship began, and four years and change since we met! To think you guys (Lana's family, that is) have added three future siblings-in-law for me since that first meeting. I had no idea, my dearest, that you had memorized our names in the directory; that's great! Maybe some unconscious premonition about the *different* family you would one day be a part of.
I think I gradually got to know Lana through the visits to her family's house (all of us kids swam together in their pool; that was fun) and through a Christian worldview Co-op class we took together. That was where I really became impressed with her passion for God, her obvious intelligence, and her love of reading. Some time thereabouts or afterward, my mom told me Lana wanted to start a Christian magazine for teens. Mom thought I might be interested. She's such a matchmaker! (Aw, just kidding; I know the thought had to have crossed her mind, but she wouldn't do that.) Anyways, we started trading e-mails about the mag, continued to see each other when our families were together, and gradually became really good friends.
Then college reared its beautiful head. Lana had originally planned on going to the U of A in Fayetteville (WOO PIG SOOIEE!!!) and majoring in agriculture. But ultimately she decided God was instead leading her to attend the majestic University of Arkansas-Fort Smith and major in Rhetoric and Writing. Guess who had already made his plans to do the same thing?
So yeah, taking classes together and seeing each other every day, on top of the friendship we already had, pretty much cinched that our friendship would grow a lot closer. Of course, I say that in hindsight.
But yeah, I had prayed about her for a really long time, probably since I was like fifteen. I was committed to not giving any part of my heart to her without knowing for sure that we were to marry, but I can't deny hoping that she was the one. I can't deny being basically convinced that she was the one.
I just needed that freedom born of certainty, and it came on Tuesday, February 27, when I fell in love with her and then realized that God had allowed me to, and that she truly was going to be my girl.
So I pined for six months, never hinting anything to her, waiting for the ripe moment; and then I talked to our parents, helped her dad put some candles on the pond, and declared myself on August 23.
Everything in our friendship before that night seems vague, somehow. I try to remember it and think about it, since it represents a beautiful time now that we have moved together into a more beautiful time. But I can't get inside my head, the way I thought and loved then; I think back to treasured memories and I view myself like a character in a play, detached.
And that's okay, because I wouldn't go back to the days of silence for anything. I love Lana and she loves me, and we both know it, and the world does, and that's the way it's supposed to be. And when I leave my father and mother and unite with her and we become one flesh, I know I won't want to go back to these days for anything. But I treasure them now.
So there it is, the first two months of courtship. But I will never, as long as I live, forget the first two hours. Gazing into each other's eyes across the candles, seeing something in the other that we had never seen before. Realizing, again and again, that this is it, our time as singles and just friends is over, and I really am going to enjoy the rest of my life with the most beautiful girl I've ever seen at my side. What I saw in her eyes as I told her I loved her for the first time, and what she saw in mine as she returned my love.
It was a sweet two hours, Lana, and it has been a sweet two months. I have drawn closer to you, opened up more of myself to you, fallen even more in love with you (and I didn't realize that was possible). But positionally, my relationship with you has not changed since that fateful day at the end of February, and it never will: I am truly yours.
"You have captured my heart, my sister, my bride. You have captured my heart with one glance of your eyes..." - Song of Solomon 4:9
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