One Month In

A true writer doesn't have the option of not writing. Inside, words bubble up until they simply spill out onto paper or Word documents or tiny pieces of scrap paper scattered around one's house... it's a building pressure I've experienced many times throughout my life. I last blogged over six months ago, which means it's time for a spill. I find myself typing away this afternoon to tell you about an intense passion of mine. My husband.

My husband and I will celebrate one month of marriage tomorrow. Ah, newlywed love, you say. But what we have is so much more than that. Words really do fall short, but I'll try. The way this man loves me is out of this world. He loves me on my best days, but some how he seems to love me even more on my worst. He loves me with words but even more with his actions. Matt is my best friend, my favorite person to hang out with, my lover, my business partner, my prayer warrior and so much more. He holds me accountable in my relationship with Christ and pushes me-- not with words, but with the decisions I watch him make everyday--to live a life more exemplary of Christ. And while none can deny his GQ good looks, it's the character of his heart that captured mine.

His integrity is unquestionable. I trust him. No, not just a "I trust you because a wife is supposed to trust her husband" kind of trust. I mean I truly trust him. I trust him in any and every situation to always do what honors God. This trust did not form blindly, for I've watched him closely throughout the couple of years that I've known him and even closer during the time of our dating and engagement. I've watched for inconsistencies in speech, action, and thought. I've found none. I've watched how he handles being tired and overworked. His patience and good nature remain. I've watched him read his bible before the sun comes up and late at night when the rest of the world is asleep. I've watched him read princess stories to Brooke tenderly without ever being insecure in his own manhood. (This, by the way, is what a true man looks like.)

Matt is only a man, but the love he shows me speaks to one thing and one thing alone; he answers to God. This man is not directed by this world or his own flesh, but rather he's completely led by the force of Jesus Christ living within his heart. Matt is the greatest gift I have ever received and his friendship in this lifetime is a true testimony to what can happen when one places God at the center of his or her life. I love my husband deeply, but even more, I love our Heavenly Father who cares enough to gift me with such an incredible companion for this lifetime.Our marriage is one that speaks volumes about God's beautiful restorative nature.

Cheers to our next few months, years, and decades of marriage, babe. This first month only stirs excitement for how God plans to use us together. Please know that I am forever honored to serve Christ by serving as your wife.

A Strong Marriage

Marriage is not something that is easy to write about...especially considering the fact that I failed at it. Many of us have failed at it. In fact, according to the American Psychological Association (www.apa.org), divorce rates are now well above 50%. We could spend hours deliberating over what has gone wrong. Indeed, I have. But today I want to focus on one case study; what went right.

Evelyn and Everette Tackett met when he was 25 and she was 21. She remembers the first time she saw him. She was walking on the side walk and he drove by. He later pointed her out and told his sister "that's the woman I'm going to marry." Marry her he did. The two soon added to their family and eventually found themselves smack dab in the middle of life-- working, balancing a household, and raising three striking (but feisty) brunette girls.

I recently visited Evelyn, my 89 year-old grandmother. Having had some rough relationships in the past, I wanted to spend the time soaking up her wisdom so as not to repeat my own mistakes. She spoke candidly about her life and had this to say on marriage: 

"Do things together. Your grandpa liked to be social and I didn't so much, but I wanted to be with him. I think it's important to do things together. Love each other when you're fighting. He was awful patient with me. Sometimes we would get to arguing and he would leave, go to the store, and come back with a pretty for me, you know, a jewelry or bracelet or something nice. He always kept me laughing.  He held my hand a lot and I liked that. It made me feel like he was proud to be with me, you know? Sometimes I still feel his hand on my right hand" she paused "-- it's either his hand, or God's hand, I suppose."

My grandfather passed away nearly five years ago. They were two months shy of celebrating their 64th wedding anniversary. My grandma's eyes-- eyes that have seen more than I dare to imagine-- light up with love when she talks about the life they shared together. "Oh yes, we had bad times. But we loved each other."  After speaking for hours with my grandmother, I came to a conclusion. My grandparents' marriage made it because of LOVE. 

Lest it seems I'm backing "All You Need Is Love" circa John Lennon, 1967...I'm not.  At least, not our culturally defined, dopamine-seeking, self-motivated kind of love. No no. I'm stating that love holds a marriage together only if it's the real, biblical kind. 

Love God and love each other, for love covers a multitude of sin. It's patient, kind, slow to anger, and keeps no record of wrongs. It doesn't envy or boast. It's not proud. It's not self-seeking. It delights in the truth. It always hopes, always trusts, always perseveres. There is no greater love than to lay down one's life for another. Now, faith, hope and love remain... but the greatest of these is love.

(Mark 12:30-31, 1 Peter 4:8, John 15:13, 1 Corinthians 13:4-13)

What God said to me this morning

This morning, while Brooke watched Frozen clips on Youtube, I journaled "Jesus, be real to me." I continued to tell Him about all that I want in this life. I finished my written prayer and shut my journal. However, I felt prompted to open it back up and add one more thing-- "But what do you want?" In all my  prayers I had gotten caught up in MY plans for me and forgotten to ask about HIS plans for me.

I closed my journal again and then went to get my devotional for the day. Upon flipping open my devotional to today's date, I found His answer loud and clear. Ask and we shall receive.

PS. In the ancient languages, there was no equivalent for the English word "coincidence". 

Orange Leaf & God the Father

Today is June 1^st and I cannot seem to enter this month without thinking about one thing. Father’s Day. Two years ago this month I met my dad at Orange Leaf for our annual Father’s Day fro-yo.  He was late that day, which was not out of the ordinary for Mr. “Stallin' ” Gaulin. He was late, but the reason he was late is what had me concerned. While we were waiting for him, he called me to ask how to get to Orange Leaf. “Dad, are you feeling okay? Orange Leaf. The same Orange Leaf we meet at about once a month.” But he was lost. Lost driving around in Springfield—a town he had lived in for decades. He told me the roads looked different.  When he arrived, he was not his jovial, quirky, folk-musician self. He was impatient and couldn’t get comfortable in his chair. He squirmed and huffed. He didn’t even finish his ice-cream. In 26 years as his daughter, I had never witnessed unfinished ice-cream. I called my sister later that day to tell her I was worried about dad.

A month later my sister and I sat next to our dad in the hospital. We were both in a state of utter shock and confusion. Cancer. Stage four. Located in the femur, lungs, back-bone and brain (thus the reason for the confusion). The diagnosis seemed to pool right at the front of my mind;  my brain refused to process this news. They gave him a couple of months. He made it three weeks.

When death gets close and personal, there’s no denying mortality. The weeks and months that followed were a blur. Time sped up and slowed down all at the same time. There were no tears, only hours spent staring into blank space. I wrote a poem. I went for a walk. I tried to call his cell phone number to see what would happen. No answer. This August  will mark two years and his phone number is still in my cell phone. Grief is a funny thing the way it comes in waves. I can tell you that missing someone never does go away.

Although my dad is no longer on this earth to celebrate Father’s Day, June reminds me that I celebrate because of the heavenly Father I belong to. God is a father to the fatherless-- an ever present comforter in times of need. I celebrate because losing a parent solidified in my life that God’s promises are true. Come hell or high water, He is with us. I used to be afraid of death but I’m no longer afraid. I’ve met it face to face; I've smelled it and stared it right in the ugly eyes.  Hello there, death. I don't know how to tell you this, but I have a Savior that conquered you.  I know His promises are real. 

John 16:33: “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world."