trust?

Yesterday, on my way to the middle school, I saw an accident. There was no Hollywood explosion or anything at all spectacular, but in the chill of a calm January morning, someone was rear-ended at a traffic light. It was so smooth, so effortless. It might as well have happened to me. At one moment, a car sat alone across the intersection from me, and the next, as the light turned green, a car had glided noiselessly into the back end, making an accordion of its hood. Some smoke tainted the frosty, but otherwise clear, air.

The light turned green in the midst of the accident, almost to spite the confusion that had materialized beneath it. Machines tend to do that. People respond, people react. I had driven through the intersection, only to turn around at the next side street and head back toward the scene. People had responded and reacted: on cell phones, milling around beside the cars, waiting for the police to come. Both drivers were unharmed. Meanwhile, traffic had stopped.

I thought about that accident for the rest of my busy day - traveling to and fro. And I thought about how we take for granted the fact that it does take care to operate a vehicle, and the damage that ensues when necessary care is not given. There’s almost an unwritten code of trust and courtesy with vehicle transportation. Are we worthy of that trust? Do I text and drive? …Sometimes. That accident could just as easily happened to me: me as the driver of the unsuspecting car sitting at the stop, or me as the careless driver. What is there to do? One situation I cannot control, the other I can. Driving is a bit terrifying when you think about it that way!

And once my imagination gets working along these lines, I worry for myself, for Kevin, for my friends and family who are out on the road every day. Can I afford to put myself out in good faith that the next car ride I take might be my last? Obviously, if I take that fear to its logical conclusion, I could never leave my apartment at all and would cut off communication with the outside world altogether for fear of being hurt or exposed to the world. (It doesn’t help that Kevin and I have been watching Monk again - can you see its influence?) So we do have to step out trusting others. I’ll admit, that’s something I struggle with. Not even just in terms of physical safety. As a Christian, I cannot hide inside myself: it is loving to others to let others love you back. It is loving to entrust them with yourself.

I think marriage has tested my ability to trust outside of myself, and I think I’m trying to build that. In many senses, there is so much security in being married - being fully known and yet loved, and always accepted. But then, with others, outside of the beautiful little unit of Kevin-and-me, it’s almost more difficult than ever before. Sorry I’ve taken this from a description of an accident to an internal struggle of mine, but you know that’s the way our minds work. This is my train of thought. And now I’ve put it out there, entrusting it to those of you who are reading. The application.

smoky smokey smokie

Our apartment smells an awful lot like bacon. Emphasis on the “awful”, please and thank you.

We made breakfast-for-dinner again. Growing up, and even until this very point in my life, I hated breakfast-for-dinner. Now, I realize the appeal. Not only are pancakes, eggs, and bacon (and whatever the heck else you want to make that is considered breakfast fare) delicious at any time of day, it’s all super easy and way convenient to make. Kevin texted me from work saying, “What’s for dinner?” And, Stepford wife that I am, I responded, “Well, what would you like, dear?” I gave him some options and he chose one… but then as I was looking up the recipe, I groaned at some of the work I would have to put in to that particular dish. There’s got to be something easier, I thought to myself. Then, lightbulb! Breakfast!

I hadn’t started when Kevin came home, but instead of having him man the bacon station like I had originally intended, I let him relax on the couch for a while watching Lie to Me. Great show. Halfway through the bacon and pancakes (which I was making simultaneously on the stove - because I can multitask like that), our smoke detector went off. And I mean, really blaring. Kevin jumped up off the couch to wave a pillow in front of the over-enthusiastic alarm. I turned on the fan above the stove, and Kevin sat back down to enjoy his show. Not a minute later, the alarm was going off again. Kevin’s getting stressed out, I’m trying to finish dinner so we can just turn off the stinkin stove and the good-for-nothing fan…

At the end of the whole ordeal, Kevin has opened both windows, turned on the fan on the A/C in the living room, is still waving a pillow in front of the smoke detector, and I am making a mess of the kitchen. I spilled bacon grease on the kitchen table, burnt my thumb a little bit, and dropped the eggs in the oven. Mmk so maybe breakfast-for-dinner wasn’t the most convenient option for this evening… but… it’s another story, right? And we’re getting the smoke alarm and the fan above the stove checked out on Monday. Seems like they’re not really doing their jobs well.

2011 goals

So it’s already been 2011 for almost a month, and I’ve been married almost a month… but it’s never too late to start making resolutions, plans, goals for this year, is it? I have a feeling this is going to be a monumental year. Read on and see some of my big dreams! A few of these are probably going to have to extend to future years… but… that’s life, right? :)

1) journal weekly (in my journal, not my blog)
2) teach like I mean it
3) graduate PBU (get certified, succeed as a teacher, all that jazz)
4) see an obscene number of friends get married!
5) move away (pref. to Colorado!)
6) twice a month, write a letter to a different dear (if distant) friend
7) get a piano
8) learn 5 new pieces by Chopin
9) read (and appreciate!) a Russian novel
10) finish reading the works of Shakespeare in its entirety!
11) write something worth reading
12) go hiking & camping with Kevin on a mountain
13) see sunset and sunrise on said mountain
14) learn to knit and/or crochet
15) research Trivits heritage
16) learn German… begin learning German
17) learn to cook - not really Julie & Julia style, but kinda
18) give people the benefit of the doubt, every time
19) learn and play a number of different card games
20) acquire painting supplies, use said supplies
21) learn to love Kevin more than I love myself; support him; dream with him (aka be an awesome wife!)
22) learn when and how to be a follower rather than a leader (and vice versa)
23) read through the Bible again
24) have Kevin teach me Greek
25) sing somewhere
26) grow a garden (even an herb garden, come on!)
27) learn to exercise (& do it regularly!)
28) remember to not be too serious
29) study up on world religions
30) …get a new and decent job.

breadcrumbs

So I’m getting into cooking. I mean, I look at recipes and get excited about trying to make them (trying being the operative word). Tonight, I made chicken croquettes.

Having looked at the recipe yesterday before Kev and I went shopping for the next two weeks’ worth of groceries, I thought I was completely prepared for… everything. Come to find out, I don’t have breadcrumbs. It wasn’t listed in the ingredients. (COME ON! Way to set me up for failure, cookbook!) Is that just an understood, then? That every cook EVER in the entire world obviously has breadcrumbs, might as well not mention it until the second to last step in the recipe? Regardless, I soldiered on. Psh, I can make my own breadcrumbs! How hard could it be?

First, I tried crumbling up some bread into a bowl. …Nah, didn’t look right. Next, I utilized the toaster and then crumbled it up. Hmm. I added the first “batch” to the second and threw them all onto a pan and stuck it in the oven with some seasoning and a little bit of oil. I thought that was foolproof. Till I got distracted. Luckily, the smoke alarm went off to alert me to the fact that my breadcrumbs were… done. I picked out - from among the burnt-beyond-recognition tidbits - the morsels of bread that could still be used. Meh. It’ll have to suffice.

Next, the white sauce (“flour + milk + butter” sounds simple enough, right?) took me three tries to get just right. On the third try, I realized I just needed to wait maybe two minutes longer before giving up on it thickening. Haha.

The end result, I’ll have you know, was quite delicious! Even if you just chalk up the success to Mrs Dash and more chicken than was necessary, I am pretty pleased with myself. Pretty pleased indeed. :)

we can learn to laugh at the little things

Let me set the scene for you.

It was our first night in the new apartment. It was probably eleven o’clock and Kevin was basically snoring already. My mind, though, was still on because A) the neighbors had BET on a bit too loud, B) there were things still to be put away to make a tidy, cozy home, C) we haven’t put curtains up, so the parking lot lights filter through the blinds into our room more than I’d like them to, and D) probably too much coffee. So, I asked Kevin if he would mind too terribly much if I finished straightening, putting things away, and if I could watch an episode of Monk whilst doing so. He assured me he could sleep through anything. I believed him. So, I was climbing out of bed, must have miscalculated (am fairly certain my depth perception is near non-existent in the mostly-dark), and smashed my face against the headboard of the bed. I felt (and heard!) a sickening crunch under my nose (if you know the story at all, where Austin burnt his nose trying to peep over a pot of boiling water, resting his nose on the stainless steel side).

Immediately, I grabbed my nose and ran to the bathroom. It was already gushing blood. Now, I get nosebleeds easily and somewhat regularly, but I was almost convinced I broke my nose. A little tiny bit. Kevin stood next to me as blood continued to drip from my poor nasal passages, now very much awake and stunned that the first night in our little love nest had gone so far awry. Needless to say, after the bleeding had stopped, neither of us were very tired. We straightened and put things away to our hearts content, laughing at the stories we could make up about what really happened the first night in our new bed in our new apartment.

P.S.
When we were making breakfast-for-dinner tonight, Kevin dropped the eggs on the floor.

Married life is funny like that.

the merry meanders begin

Here’s a honeymoon story for ya, free of charge:

TRAVEL DAY: Thursday, December 30.

GOAL: Grand Rapids Int’l Airport -> O’Hare Int’l Airport -> Knoxville McGhee Tyson Airport -> Gatlinburg, TN -> Happily Ever After Cabin high in the Smoky Mountains.

Sounds fairly simple, right? That was the plan. But this is kind of how it played out.

We woke up early, so we thought we’d head on in to the airport in GR to get a cup of coffee and wait for our flight. As we walk in, our flight is “on time”, according to the screen. As we punch in our information at the kiosk, the flight canceled and our information was denied. The United Airlines workers saw us as an inconvenience, and let us know. Obviously, it was our fault and our responsibility to see that we make our connection to Knoxville. They found a flight headed for Chicago (that was originally meant for Madison, but was going to fly to Chicago instead… and at the same time our original flight was supposed to leave. Still not sure how they figured that one) and issued us not boarding passes, but security passes to get up to the gate. At the gate, they said, the attendants would determine who they were able to fit on the plane. We were, fortunately, among the twenty that were able to board.

Arriving in Chicago around the time we would have initially, Kev and I headed over to find our information for the flight to Knoxville. The customer service desk was, of course, unmanned. Kevin started punching in our information at the kiosk, which was, of course, denied. I picked up the courtesy phone, talked to a service rep, referred to Kevin as my husband for the first time to a complete stranger, and got the gate for the Knoxville flight. So, we maneuvered around the hundreds of people that were occupying the United Airlines terminal to talk to a lady at another desk to (hopefully!) get a boarding pass. Once we gave her our information, she informed us that the flight for which we were hoping… didn’t exist. She audibly and irritably sighed (again, because we were an inconvenience), but was able to put us on a flight leaving for Knoxville only ten minutes after our “original flight” was supposed to leave.

After breathing a sigh of overwhelming relief, muttering, “This would only happen to us,” we walked to Chili’s for lunch. After lunch, we walked back to the gate, sat among hundreds of dissatisfied UA customers, fellow travelers and one shrieking teenage girl for another two hours as flight after flight was delayed.

In all, Kevin and I counted ourselves lucky that our travels went as well as it did. We arrived safely, our luggage arrived safely (probably hours before we did), and we drove out of the airport in a new Kia Soul, headed for Gatlinburg and our cabin, “Happily Ever After.”

that day

December 29, 2010

I got married. I belong to someone else. The metaphor is not lost on me that as I belong to Christ eternally, I belong to Kevin temporally. There is all of the sudden a real sense of the vulnerability and dependency that comes with the two-in-oneness. It’s scary, but… galvanizing to be half of a whole.

Now, this is our journey.