A Smokey Ghost

In the wee, small hours of the morning, I pried one eye open to a shrieking alarm. Tim sprang from the bed, to the alarm clock, and back again, before my second eyelid was raised.
Only, it wasn't the alarm clock.
It was 1:30 am, and I was foggy and confused. If the alarm was going off, then the clock should say 6:30.
It took Tim some serious, and very patient, explaining before I realized that the alarm was the sound of the smoke detector....again....and that the fact that it had ceased when Tim turned the alarm clock off was pure coincidence. He grudgingly got up and went to turn the alarm clock back on.
After the smoke alarm thing the first night, Tim had changed all the batteries. They should be quietly protecting us from errant smoke, not interupting a perfectly good nights rest. I have no idea why these things are tormenting us.
Any suggestions?
If they scream at us again tonight, I am going to be very grumpy indeed.

Identity crisis

I totally need to reinvent this blog. What in the world shall I write about? I'm not very funny these days. I'm no longer single. I'm all smarmy-in-love, and working hard at being a mom and wife. How boring is that?
The details of my day are not worth the writing.
Except
Something happened last night.
At 3 am the smoke detector went screaming. I bolted out of a deep sleep, paused to take inventory of my modesty status, and dove into the house at large. Aaron was sreaming for daddy, and barely audible over the alarm. I went to his room. Tim stumbled into conciousness and was searching for a fire before his mind even registered that he was awake.
There was no fire.
We ended up with a febrile child in our bed for the rest of the night. His fever hardly seemed adequate to have sounded an alarm. It was adequate to prevent further sleep, however.
Back when I was single, I'd have to encounter those smoke detectors from time to time. Mostly, they would chirp when the batteries would die. I would swat them with a broom, until they dropped to my feet in silence. My old house needs new smoke detectors, for this reason.
Tonight I am dizzy on my feet. Sleep is a welcome prospect. All four children seem like Energizer bunnies. Why don't they get tired?

I am going to bed.
What should I blog about next?

Blurred lines

I wore an Ivory twinset to church, with jeans. They are long jeans, that accommodate heels very nicely. When I wear my brown boots, I am only a couple inches shorter than my husband. It changes my perspective, being taller. I can look him in the eye.

When the lights were dimmed at church, as we were singing, Tim and I sat shoulder to shoulder, as we always do. Shoulders- pressed- together feels like holding hands, for all I can feel his thoughts thru the connection.
He was wearing ivory, too. A sweater.

I chuckled in a momentary thought, that the colors and the fabrics were so similar that I could not tell where I ended and he began.
So often, in an epiphany like that, the thought congeals so quickly. I realized that the blurred line between us is exactly the point. It's where we're headed. As a new couple, we are, perhaps, in an accelerated growth phase. Maybe we won't always change so rapidly. But the direction in which we're moving is toward Oneness. There should be a day, down the road, when I can't really see where he begins, and I end.

Every time I see some new truth about marriage, I wonder how it applies to the analogy of Christ and the church. Because I'm really holy that way.

What if my relationship with my Lord was such that it was growing toward a unified oneness? What if I got to a point with Him that I could not be at all sure when I ended and He began? That would pretty stunning. I'd probably be so amazing that I could board a chariot of flame, and ride straight through the gates of Glory. But, that kind of Oneness is also the goal, isn't it? That's where I want to be headed.

Marriage, once again, serves as a picture of the design God has for His Romance with me. The Bride of Christ. Make it so, Lord.

Oh, Gag me with a spoon. Or: How to make your wife feel like a treasure

All these years I have lived without a bunch of things that now center my general happiness. How ever did I make it?

I know I keep telling you about how nauseatingly happy I am, but it's quite true. Perhaps you will look deep into your marriage and find that new life can be breathed into it...or else you can pour a large mixed drink and go read another blog.
But, as I was saying.....

I like sleeping with a window open at night, rather than locking the house up like a tomb so no stranger will break in and kill me in the night.

I like that when I wake unexplicably in the night, there is a warm and friendly body near who keeps all my fears away, even while he's sound asleep.


I like that I wake in the arms of someone who thanks God for me every day...in my hearing.

I like that he doesn't get mad at me. Ever.

I like that my car gets filled with gas every week....even when I don't realize I'm on empty.

I like that unexpected eye-contact in the middle of the day always makes my breathe catch.

I like that bills get paid, and I don't have to worry.

I like that he looks at me, touches me, and talks to me, as if I have the best figure, most amazing hair, and brilliant mind in the world.

I like that the yard work gets done, and not by me.

I like that dinner is planned a week ahead, and that he always cooks....and that he enjoys my company at the grocery store, even though I am largely useless.

I am so happy. And also spoiled.

What?
Sorry. It's all true, though.

Rewind

My long over-due pictures are finally here for you to see. There is some question as to whether anyone still reads this blog, but whatever.
On the 14th of August, I was married to that one guy I've had a crush on for so long.

This is me and my daughter-to-be. Yes, I really use curlers. Did you think my hair was naturally curly?



Kara came to be our slave. See her laboring over Faline's hair?
No curlers, there.





Check out how happy we are in white....




Michael was the best man. I think I told you that already. Look at how grown-up he looks:








"You may kiss the bride"


Don was the photographer.


Mr. and Mrs.

Why blog?

Blink
blink
blink


The curser is just blinking at me atop an empty page. It's been doing so for days.

It's not that I have little to say, but rather that there seems to be too much.

Life is immesureably sweet just now, and the observations that I would offer to you are more exquisite than might be easily believed.
I could tell you of the minor irritations of daily life, and those make for fine humor.

It's a quandry.

I still like Tim, in case you were wondering. Marriage is fun.

The kids are doing normal kid type stuff, and they are the focus of most of what we do.

I was thinking that marriage in the middle of one's life is something I must highly recommend. It's just easier to figure out how to love someone else, when you are well aquainted with yourself.
We're doing well. Better than I had expected. Blending these two families is a rich and varied challenge, but one that seems to be managable.
My friend Asia would no doubt love to see all that's going on here. As would any family counselor. But, it's working.

In other news,
Have you ever stubbornly clung to a guilty conscience? It's lots of fun, in a self-mutilation sort of way.
I did that quite recently.
I had a sin to confess (not a very interesting one, so don't get all excited. And, no, I am not going to tell you what it was.)
I didn't want to confess, though. So the blasted nagging in my head grew louder and louder. It became one of those things where every time I turned on the radio, the issue was being proclaimed....when I closed my eyes, I thought of it...I had no peace at all. It was very irritating to be me.
Like so many of those things, I had made it way bigger than it needed to be. The moment I confessed, it turned out to be no big deal at all. I carried that around for 5 months, (because I am stubborn, and also an idiot), and it was no issue for the person I felt I had wronged.

Personally, I am ready for a second honeymoon. No, not because of that. I want to get away. I'm going to go look at Southwest.com

In which I speak of God....and also Tim

I'm not writing very much, but there's a lot on my mind.

One thing that strikes me lately, is the whole function of marriage. There are a gazillion things about it that I am thinking about. God designed this to model His relationship with His people, and that's an intimate picture.

One of the things I notice about the way Tim loves me, is that he delights simply in having me near. I think there's something of God in that. Tim likes to know that I am choosing him above anyone else, and that I am always accessible to him. Don't you think that God maybe feels that way, too? What if God takes a manly delight in having his bride close enough to touch? If God wants to know that if He has something to say, His bride will be within listening range? Gosh, I don't usually think about God as being heart-warmed by my presence.

Tim covers me with a veil of protection that I am aware of, even when he's not in the house. His responsibility for me, and commitment to me, are constant and reliable. Why do I so seldom realize that these attributes are true of God, too?

There is an intimacy in understanding and communication, between Tim and I, that I think God also means to have with me. What if I could know what God was thinking from a glance, so to speak?

Marriage is really powerful. I do not understand it, yet.
What I do know, is that I have never been so loved.
Or, rather, that I have grossly underestimated God's love for me.