Mar 16, 2015 | Productivity
For the last two years I’ve had the same goals. All my weekly goals and daily to-do lists somehow fed into this overarching dream – one that seemed far from being realized. I prayed, wrote, proposed, saved, and plugged away at them month after month, always looking forward to the end of the ‘tunnel’ but never quite sure what I’d do when I got there.
And then I got there. I arrived.
In a matter of two weeks every goal we’d worked toward was suddenly achieved: we paid off $30,000 in Mr. M’s student loans; the career position I’d prayed and worked toward was implemented and I was given the job; I finished my bachelor’s degree; and we found out we were expecting a baby. After all the excitement settled down I found myself sitting in the living room wondering what in heaven’s name to do with myself.
In order to achieve our goals I had integrated them into the very fiber of my being. Everything I did was meant to help us reach those ends. When the goals were gone, it was as if a part of my identity was gone, too.
Jan 5, 2015 | Singleness
Since I was very young, I knew I wanted to be married. There’s a picture of me at six years old, sitting on my mom’s cedar chest with a napkin on my head, in a white dress, holding a bouquet of fake flowers in two chubby hands. I always wanted to be a bride!
But since most women marry in their mid- to late twenties, and I had plenty of time on my hands. After an epiphany at age 21, I realized I wanted to be married – but was woefully unprepared. I commissioned myself to develop habits that would, at the very least, make the transition to marriage a little easier when that day finally came.
Nov 5, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology
Faith in God is not evidence of a great person, but of a person trusting the greatness of her Savior.
It’s in those stressful moments I cease to remember that greatness. I cease to trust. In that moment, I cease to have faith.
Nov 3, 2014 | Productivity
Josh had his apartment when we were dating. It’s the same apartment we live in at the writing of this post. Living in a college town means most complexes are noisy: populated by 20-somethings whose late-night priorities always tend toward the loud and obnoxious. But our little place is housed off a country road, in a subdivision, populated mostly by residents over the age of 50. The most noise we endure originates from Canadian geese.
Aug 4, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology
Type A Girl here.
I love children, and I can’t wait for the day Mr. M and I have our own. We’ve arranged our life in a manner that plans for children and is ready to support them if they happen to appear on the scene. But I’m not living in a fantasy world.
I already know what’s going to happen when my precious, mostly-silent infant gains a tongue and mobility: I’m going to be interrupted… all the time.
When I think about our future family, I get this knot of trepidation in my stomach not because I know I’ll be inconvenienced and interrupted, not because life will change, not because some sort of perceived ‘freedom’ is taken away by having kids – but because I know that my current self would have a very, very difficult time dropping everything to take care of pint-size interruptions.
It’s bad enough at work, during my spring cleaning, or even while I’m staring obsessively at my whirring KitchenAid.
I hold up one finger. “Hang on! I’m in the middle of something.”
“But -”
“I can’t talk right now, I’m doing things.”
Which is a lie, because I’ve always been able to talk while doing things. It’s one of my most developed skill sets.
I work with the most interruptable woman I have ever met. Her name is Joy, and she lives up to that name in everything she does. No matter what she is doing – which is always a lot – she will set it down, look you in the face, and listen to your need. She’ll help you. She’ll take care of you. She’ll even do your job for you. And she’s not the least bit put out by the fact you gave her no notice at all….
