christmas on bartram way

I like to think that this Christmas has proved that I've allowed myself to chill out a bit. And by chill out I mean not spend a gazillion dollars on garland or on the ribbon that I would have really preferred on our packages. Not obsessing over the wrapping of our neighbor gifts or buying Christmas party plates when I had perfectly acceptable party plates at home [THIS IS A BIG DEAL]. That doesn't mean that I haven't loved decorating our home for our first Christmas on Bartram Way, but I used mostly what I had plus some free clippings from the tree farms and some landscaping clippings from around the neighborhood. Don't tell the HOA.

You could attribute that to actually having places to go and people to see this year. Or a grounding from our favorite advent readings. Or maybe a good ol' dose of God-given maturity? That'd be nice too. Whichever way [none being anything I did myself], I've certainly enjoyed a sense of simplicity during the Christmas season this year.

There's been long lunches with friends before braving the mall, shopping for an adoptive family, wrapping gifts to Christmas music, dinner with neighbors, Sunday School Christmas parties, and lazy mornings together making pancakes with red and green chocolate chips. Simple things that are so much more important than the things I distracted my lonely self with last year.

Not being able to fathom missing a week together when our leader was out of town, my small group girls came for dinner. And though we missed the wisdom and company of our surrogate mother and friend Terri, we laughed and told stories and asked advice and passed around the babies. We ate the most simple and cozy things I could think of: soup and bread and pie. And drank Candice's eggnog which shut up all of us non-believers. Over five hours later, after the last friend had left, the candles had burned completely out - a sign of a perfect night. There was no frantic deep-cleaning, no special homemade dish with stuffed this and sautéed this, no new outfit or playlist or floral centerpiece. There was soup and, in fact, thanks to Jenny's brilliant suggestion to the group text an hour or so before, we all curled up around the table in our pajama or yoga pants. Complete with holes.

A couple days later, our downstairs was filled with all of our favorite ninth graders. This is when I put the Christmas party plates back on the shelf at Target. Again, this is a big deal. That night we were reminded that serving platters don't matter. The chip bag will work perfectly fine. And just how funny a white elephant gift can be.

I'm very thankful for Christmas 2013. I don't say all this to make it seem like the last few weeks have been obnoxiously perfect. There are still worries and stress. We miss the loved ones we lost this year. I get anxious for what I hope 2014 will bring. But I'm thankful for the changes that have come since last Christmas and what we've learned from them. For every Saturday morning pancake made, every pot of soup, every friend who steps through the door that makes this seem more like home.

summer 2013

Since I have been an uninspired blog-keeper this summer, a general update.

This summer has been one of transition. To a new house. To a more-official floral design position. To parenting a new pup. To much-needed involvement. To a hint of normalcy.

This normalcy looks like full calendars - a personal [possibly unhealthy] love of mine. So full that is calls for mini family meetings and plenty of time spent plugging in reminders and appointments and events into the calendar. I know that this is a very normal thing in the life of the average American [and beyond]. But for the last twelve months, our weeks have been the bare minimum. When you are a new member of a church or a business or a community, involvement is limited. Read: people-time is limited. This summer I am beyond thankful for the Lord providing us with busy days filled with events that need florals, church ministry responsibilities, dinner with new friends, family that needs celebrating.

This time last year, I was going to the grocery store because it was my only source of human interaction while D was at work. I know now that that was a season with purpose. But these days I wouldn't be surprised if I saw someone I knew in the Piggly Wiggly or Publix or (dreaded) WalMart. A wonderful, welcomed change even if I'm in need of a good hair-washing.

Summer 2013 began with our move to the new house. Things are shaping up, and there may possibly be some pictures soon since I'm learning to rangle the shedding dog and mulching area rug with this and this.

Less than a week later, we headed south for Anna's [who is absolutely "the apple of our eye"] first birthday party. It was all hands on deck for decorations and favors and food. At one point, D was slicing apples and cutting tiny little hearts out of their centers for apple and peanut butter sandwiches. We're rocking his all-boy-family world one birthday party at a time.

June, and then again in August, was peak wedding season bringing plenty of design and learning time. I did my first solo wedding and had the opportunity to assist Sarah with several more beautiful events. We ended the summer with bang: a two-wedding weekend with five venues in two days. I can honestly say that I've never been more exhausted in my entire life. Granted I've never run a marathon or given birth or, you know, climbed Mt. Everest. But I was worn slap out, y'all. And thanks to a poorly-chosen maxi dress, I was shuffling my chaffed self in on my extremely sore feet. Here's to adrenaline and pure creative satisfaction for carrying us through.

A trip to Ruston brought wonderful time with family, a bittersweet cleaning-out of Mamaw Mc's house, fresh Ruston peaches, and a tearful meeting of my best friend's baby boy. The pace at which our lives are moving is overwhelming at times.

We lost D's grandmother midsummer. It was the most sudden of any of our grandparents. And it's still hard to think that she won't be there when we visit this weekend. We had, as always, a lot of sweet family time through that heartache.

August began with a trip to Florida to spend some time with my dearest Ashley before her big move to the Middle East. It was perfectly timed, perfectly planned by a God who cares about details and emotions and friendships. We spent some time on the sand, around the table, at the outlet malls, and [most importantly] in our pajamas. We talked about memories and what life will be like after the move, what is most saddening and most exciting. An unexpected but completely perfect project was taking Ash's pictures and laying out her prayer magnet. Isn't she a beauty? We completely failed in our "no tears, just say 'see you later'" plan. So we cried and hugged and cried some more. And since then, we're thankful for international texting apps and email and prayer.

To wrap up a summer full of busy weekends was Audrey's SIXTH birthday. She's SIX. Impossible. We had a tea party with enough flowers for a small wedding ceremony. That evening, the entire fam went to the birthday girl's restaurant of choice - Chick-fil-A - where it's not difficult to get a table for thirteen on Saturday nights.

Today we are headed south for the wedding of one of D's groomsmen. This weekend will usher in [in my mind] an official beginning to fall bringing with it pumpkin-flavored purchases and LSU football. Here's to looking forward to sweaters and mums and Christmas trees and filled calendars.

a new house and boston

A couple of weeks ago, we closed on our first home. It was incredibly exciting, making us feel responsible and immature and grown up and so very young all at the same time. Our lawyer was really helpful and informative to us first timers. And, as we made our way through that hilariously thick stack of papers to sign, we talked to him about his life - how long he had been doing closing, how he had an uncle who was an author and lived in Louisiana for a time, and how he was originally from the Boston area (the accent gave him away).

Of course when he mentioned Boston, we asked if he had any connection to the recent bombings. His two female cousins, who he said are more like sisters, were both near the sight of the explosions - one near the finish line who ran the other direction to safety and one who was working in the building that housed the second bomb. She is physically ok, but had to escape the chaos by climbing over what could only be described as casualties. At the time of our signing, she had not been back to work and had been seeking therapy. When we asked about Boston, you saw his demeanor change. You saw the heaviness of the experience rush over his face.

Though it was in the middle of an exciting time, it was actually a perfectly timed eye-opener. I don't think that I have had something like this that is so all-consuming. I can get so caught up in my lists of projects and purchases for the new house. I wake up thinking about what color I might want to paint the shelves in the loft, spend an embarrassing amount of time thinking about it, and change my mind a few days later.

I needed to be reminded that there are so many other more important things going on in our lives and in the lives of those that we love. There are loved ones preparing for babies or adjusting to life with new little ones. They are preparing to move far away or raising money for ministry or dealing with illnesses. They are celebrating big milestones or mourning losses.

This week is moving week. Slowly but surely, we are filling our cars with couch pillows and lamps and small appliances until our families come this weekend to help us with the big furniture. While I'm packing boxes, I'm remembering our lawyer's cousins and the lives of our friends and family and doing my best to live outside of my own little world and my crazy lists. The ones I love to write on graph paper.

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
Philippians 2:1-8 

evident peace and imminent isaac

Today marks three months since we left our home in Baton Rouge. Three months that I've been happy to unpack and nest and go to the grocery store. And, come to find out, three months is my big-change coping delay. Its amazing, really, when you think you've got this contentment thing down. Then you move 700 miles away and are faced immediately [or within three months] with your arrogance.

After a week of finally mourning this move and with some God-breathed encouragement from loved ones, my stubborn and arrogant self was honest with the Lord about my sadness and desperate need for His peace. That afternoon, I was out and about [at the grocery store] among a very different Columbia. School was back and the air was shockingly cool and weightless. On the crosswalk was a seemingly hand-picked mix of high school stereotypes. I passed college girls riding home from class together and sat beside big yellow buses with their familiar heavy idling. A sound that takes me back to four years worth of away football games.

I realized that instead of feeling sorry for myself and crying in the grocery store [again], I had a sense of God-given peace. Peace that assured me that we were going to truly be a part of this community one day even if not as quickly as desired. Peace that takes away anxiety [Phil. 4:6], that surpasses all understanding [Phil. 4:7], that does not come from the world [John 14:27]. Peace that is boundlessly promised and often forgotten.

As I'm hoping my heart becomes more and more planted in South Carolina, it is drifting to South LA these last few days with Isaac entering the picture. We feel as we should be there, hunkered down with our fellow South Louisianians. Know, if you are there, that you are on our hearts and minds. Some of you already know that because of my incessant check-up text messages. We are praying for homes and lives and and livelihoods and our precious coastline. And for the continued resilience that is always true of Louisianians!

frame of mind

Simply, moving a sizable distance from anyone and anything of familiarity is both great and terrible. Exciting and heartbreaking. It's a lot like choosing to move away for college. Or committing to a summer at Pine Cove without knowing a soul. For me, those kind of decisions have always been easy make (yes, let's go and let's do) and heart-wrenching to carry-out. And they've always been for the very best.

The problem with the excitement and heartbreak is that you never know which one is going to strike you and when. I've noticed its the small things. I feel a rush of comfort when we're getting in the car and waving to all of our neighbors who happened to be outside at the same time: Reverend Doug and Mrs. Gloria who have lived across the street for over thirty years and our quirky and talkative next door neighbor, Ramsey, who still says, "Hi Dustin and Rachel!" when he sees us. Still. Or sometimes its the feeling of the cool Carolina mornings or driving over big hills or authentically connecting with people as we visit churches. Its raising the screen on the back bedroom window and kissing D while he's working in the backyard [praise Jesus for Saturdays]. And its especially the closeness it brings to our relationship as we share those excitements and the tough parts too.

The tough parts? Missing people. And meeting new ones. And not having a church home. Also wishing that Sister from Where the Heart Is would drive up in her pick-up turned covered wagon and hand me a welcome basket. She'd especially be able to tell that I'm new if she saw me in the grocery store. I'd be staring at all the aisle markers with one of those "I don't know where anything is in the store" face.

Through it all, I'm learning to not live for the normalcy that I just love to cling to. Or believing that life is only truly happy in those picture-worthy moments: the family in front of the perfectly decorated Christmas tree or the arrival of new babies or fiftieth anniversaries. Though it may not be true, the pictures that you choose to frame usually give the illusion that everything has a time and a place and a routine making this transition time seem, well, not-so-picturesque. But I know my attitude towards the hours spent filling our front porch with to-be-recycled packing paper will matter more than how I respond when we hang the last painting or finally buy a sofa or actually have friends over for dinner. Maybe instead of wedding pictures, I'll fill our walls with an 8x10 of cardboard boxes. Or us eating on the floor while watching TV [which was also on the floor]. Or even a nice shot of air mattresses. Here's to embracing transition.

on regrets and being present

Between bites of salty chips and our favorite Cajun-inspired Mexican food, we talked about moving details and  building a new budget and our inability to wrap our minds around the fact that we'll no longer have a zip code that begins with the number seven. Instead it's a new five-digit number that I have yet to memorize. And while watching the sunset over the Mighty Mississippi, we talked about what changes we were ready for and which ones we couldn't bare to face. D had spent his last evening working with his group and turned in his report and notebook, his last engineering undergrad assignments ever. I think I asked him three or four times what it feels like to never have to study on campus again in the hopes that he might attach words to the feeling swirling inside my head and my heart. He couldn't. But there was certainly a rumbling excitement underneath that conversation's surface. And a small but expected heart pang.

Being honest, this is the time that I have been waiting for. The time when I proudly watch D walk across that graduation stage and when we get to begin spending time together in the evenings and when I end my job which I'm very thankful for but also sure it is not what I was created to do forever and ever. And I have certainly been waiting for it. Stubbornly. With frustration and an unsatisfied heart.

You see, I had originally intended to write about my regrets. Regret for not having everyone we wanted to over for dinner. Regret for not exercising more or being a better coupon-er. Regret for not being able to meet with Rebecca weekly as we had hoped and planned. Regret for how little time we spent with our neighbors. With a whole lot of "poor pitiful me's" and "guess I'll just have to move on's" thrown in. But I've been taught and reminded, by a loving and pursuant God, two very important things:

1) God gave us late nights and early mornings and impossible schedules because He has a sovereign purpose woven in and out of every hour, minute, and second of our lives.

2) The only regret I should take away from this year is how I responded to those impossible schedules. Again - stubborn, frustrated, unsatisfied.

When I think about my attitude throughout most of this year, I picture myself sitting on our hand-me-down couch, arms and legs crossed, staring blankly, lips tight. Choosing not to accept what this day to day life has turned out to be. Choosing not to talk to my Father about it. Choosing to stick it out, bad attitude and all, until we can move on. Though it becomes a perfect personification of my heart, the truth is that I wasn't just sitting. I was working late and waiting up for D and crying because I was weary of being alone until eleven at night. Or sometimes five in the morning. It is also true that this wasn't an every day situation. There were plenty of exciting and funny and encouraging moments. Probably more so than not. But all the while I felt my heart slipping into that stubborn, waiting attitude. Even if I didn't show it.

As I think on it and talk to God about it, that blinding sense of regret seems to deflate while the memorable lessons sink their way deeper into my heart and mind. This is one of those moments when I am overwhelmed by the grace that He gives by His ceaseless teaching and by His power to overtake my ugly attitude. If I were Him [and let us all take a moment to offer up a few Hallelujahs that I am not], I'd feel as though  I was an exhausting waste of time. Yet, in His presence and through His eyes, I am His beloved. What a staggering fact.

Moving forward [which is simply what grace allows you to do], I'll hope to do a few things differently. I'll be better at time management instead of letting these new work schedules spin my college-freedom-lover of a self into clamoring ball of exhaustion. And with that time I will not neglect spending time in the God's Word and talking to Him and, most importantly, listening. You would think I would have grasped this one by now. But I am thankful to have experienced the starvation that comes from separation from my Bread of Life. It is not something I want to relive. And a constant, positive attitude and outlook is not something to be conjured.

I'll also, because of God's grace-filled lessons, be better at living in the present. A present filled with life and energy and dimension whether its spent at home with my husband [who I love so much more than when we married that it doesn't even seem possible] or at dinner with friends or in a grey cubicle. I think that will have a lot to do with a satisfied heart. A heart filled with the Spirit because of time purposefully spent with Him. A heart very opposite of my depleted version from this past year. A heart that doesn't depend on an earthly situation. I also think loosening my grip on the overly premature to-do lists will help while purposefully keeping this crazy brain of mine focused on today. Because today is good, and today is a gift.

to-do

Stop crying after church and home group. Make myself stop drinking Diet Coke. Spend tonight preparing for the movers to assess our amount of belongings on Thursday. Make sure I can go to Ruston next weekend. Stop worrying about the movers sorting through every single thing we own and if they'll destroy my dried wedding bouquet in the process. Get the girl from HR to respond to my "I'm leaving the state so tell me what I need to do" email. Celebrate the completion of D's life-consuming senior project. Develop my "what to do when Molly goes into labor" plan. Catch up with Meg Hope. Stop Googling furniture wants and stop watching the YouTube video of our house. Find time in our impossible schedules to meet with Rebecca. Plan the biggest graduation celebration imaginable for the most deserving graduate imaginable. Make Molly a baby wreath. Purge our belongings. Don't forget to pray for B's job search. Figure out the meaning of a "proper goodbye." Stop eating my feelings. Spend time with the Jenkins clan. Keep future-job-dreaming. Help Abs brainstorm company names. Don't give into my anxiety. Pass on job responsibilities. Attend Cait and Eric's house blessing. Quit playing phone tag with my best friends. Help D send his graduation announcements. Buy wedding gifts. Start dealing with leaving emotions. Let Noah fall asleep on my shoulder again. Stop running out of breath when walking upstairs. Celebrate Mother's Day. Clean every inch of our apartment. Find replacement for our spot on the church's nursery rotation. Stop re-reading the May issue of Country Living. Make South Carolina feel like home.

All of this and more is standing between us and our May 27th move to South Carolina. As much as endings and graduations and new houses and weddings and tiny babies tend to shower me with nostalgia that I absolutely love to swim around in, I feel as though I'm being hurried through those moments by all of this other stuff. All of these other technicalities

As someone who loves to feeeel [and who loves to make others feel as well], I'm currently fearful of not having enough time to really figure out this heart roller coaster of mine in time to be present with my emotions during the move. At the same time, I'm slightly terrified of actually allowing myself to face those emotions because, as excited as we are, saying goodbye to certain faces is going to be nothing short of traumatic.

What I absolutely don't want to happen is to let only what I feel be stress and anxiety over boxes and schedules and not having enough shower curtains. And when I expect my sinner-of-a-self to automatically rest in the Lord, I want to yell "what does that really mean?!" at the redundant, church-girl voice in my head. I should learn what that really means. I'll add it to the list.

For now, I'll remember that my seemingly out of control life is controlled by the One who controls the ticking seconds and the ever-rotating planets and each and every person's blinking eyes and beating heart. He's the same One who knows my crazy brain's need for a "proper goodbye." He's also the same One who knows what we really need and provides it. And the One who can intimidate the heck out of my ginormous very small to-do list.

house details

This post could possibly be a long one. Know that it is not to induce any type of drama or excitement and/or to bore you to tears. Friday was a day full of lots of drive time, plenty of feelings [both excitement and stress], and immediate needs being met by a God who provides in a perfectly detailed way. So that you know those sovereign details, this post could possibly be a long one. This is your one and only warning.

As you may know, I like to plan. Since we've known about this move of ours, I've been a property-management-website-and-craigslist-aholic. Are there meetings for that? If so, I should be there every single day. I also am now fully capable of making my millions [I don't have a millions-making plan] by writing a book on how to tackle finding a rent house. Actually, I might be better at what not to do. Yes, that is true.

As we left Montgomery at four o'clock on Friday morning [thanks to Hotel Moll&Bran], I thumbed through the manila-bound print outs I made of each of our rent house possibilities which included any and all details I could squeeze out of the real estate websites. Actually, I think I slept for half an hour [or maybe two hours] that morning. But that's beside the point. In my hand, I thought I had all of our options with one of those being the solution to our home needs. Yes - I though I had the solution. Why? Because of what I thought were hours upon hours of tedious research and planning. And planning to very best of my ability. Honestly, its worked for me before.

When we were about 45 minutes outside of Columbia, I got a call from who we will call Rent House Rep #1. He told me our first option [and probably our first choice] had been rented just that morning. No big deal. Four more options to go. And we will take my very wise big sis' advice and get a paper when we get there. Nothing to worry about.

Since we got to Columbia earlier than planned and had some extra time due to our rental being rented, we plugged the address of our other options into the Garmin. Ok, I had already saved them in the favorites menu. But you know what I mean. We eventually found our way to each and every rent house. All dumps. I'm not saying we need some high quality home. Not even. But we would like our walls intact. Though I did not laugh at the time, it is hilarious now that one option which appeared to be a cute little white bungalow was actually a nice shade of dirty yellow now.

At this point, we canceled our afternoon appointments at 1:30, 2:15, 3:00 and the last one at 10 AM the next morning. Enter freaking-out-Meagan. Good thing D has been calm for the vast majority of his life including that afternoon. It is a good good thing.

I had also made a list of restaurants from Design*Sponge's Columbia City Guide. Maybe I printed out the menus, locations and operating hours also. So we chose Cantina76 because it was close and because Mexican is good comfort food. We shoved down some really awesome tacos [more on that later] while circling options in a newspaper we had never referenced, searched fervently on the seemingly ancient and slow-moving iPhone, and finding it really hard to breath [just me].

After more unsuccessful phone calls and pure confusion, we found our way to the Chick-fil-A parking lot to totally steal their wifi. Desperate times call for desperate measures. My heart and D's words were constantly reminding me that the Lord had a plan for this trip and for how He wanted our life in Columbia to begin whether or not it was our ideal situation. And I wish I could say that my actions and attitude reflected those resounding words. But my strung-out, verge-of-tears self was constantly reminding Dustin that most property management offices were closing in three hours and would not be open tomorrow all while violently shaking my hand palm-up towards the Mazda's dashboard clock [and I'm pretty sure smoke was coming out of my ears too]. That wouldn't be enough time to make an appointment, see a house, apply, get approved by a gazillion different people, and sign a lease. The realistic/planner side of me had taken control. And the realistic/planner side knew that we wouldn't be able to view any more properties that day, we wouldn't find a place to live that trip, we'd have a miserable first Saturday in our new hometown, and it would be a stressful week attempting to find another time to get to SC to impossibly find a home in the middle of our ever-so insane lives. I was Mrs. Doomsday.

While frantically searching my well known property sites, I happened upon a house that I had loved from the very beginning of my searching [and no other houses I've liked from the beginning are even still on the market]. It was ever so slightly out of what we had planned to spend on rent. And so I had originally disregarded it knowing thinking there were plenty of other options. After discussing and deciding that D's well-planned budget could be adjusted to accommodate the change in rent price, we called the number listed. I just knew that no one would be able to show us this at three o'clock on a Friday afternoon. Three o'clock on a Friday afternoon says "goodbye work" and "hello freedom." The property management office told me that this property was being shown by Bonnie and gave me her number. Bonnie was who was supposed to show us another house at three o'clock. I didn't realize these houses were listed with the same company because I found them through different websites. First moment of amazement.

Our dear friend Garmin led us to 1514 King Street. While we waited for Bonnie, we peaked in the windows. I squealed a lot. It was perfect - inside and out. Even though I had only been out. Wonderful Bonnie only showed us the living room, dining room and kitchen before we were telling her we wanted it and asking her what the next step in the process was. Yes, we looked at the rest of the bedrooms and the outside. But what's not to love when you find a home with old-house charm whose electrical, duct work, and efficiency needs have all been 100% updated? D and I had previously joked about how we wanted opposite things in one residence - and old house and an efficient house. It is exactly what we got.

After we knew we wanted it, the application process began. We went to their office, asked a million questions, filled out the application, asked a few more million questions, and were told it'd probably be a few business days until they could get it approved due to some different players that often hold up the process. A few business days meant limbo for the rest of the weekend. A few business days meant going back to Baton Rouge with a possible rent house. We calmed down [sort of], reminded one another that we serve a sovereign God, and drove to check into our hotel. We really didn't expect for the property manager, the property owner, our credit checks, and our current landlord to all align and approve our application in 45 minutes. We didn't expect them to in two hours which is when they closed. But they did. As D was coming back outside with our room keys in hand, I was listening to a voicemail from the company secretary telling us that we had been approved. We got right back into the car, drove right back to their office and put our initials and signatures on paper after paper after paper. Gladly. Joyfully. In astonishment.

I continue to be amazed an overwhelmed by the Lord's detailed provision in this process. I continue to be amazed at how pitiful my months of planning look in comparison to the Lord's eternal plan which was accomplished. Obviously, mine was not. I continue to be amazed by the love and support we experienced from our friends' and family's constant prayer and encouragement and phone calls and text messages. I continue to be amazed that this God loves me so much to still provide for one of his children who did not act like she thought He could. I feel ridiculous and ridiculously loved through this process. I have experienced, yet again, God's abounding grace by Him giving me more faith-growing moments. Without anything pertaining to me specifically, His Word gives me plenty of reason to have faith in His love and provision and sovereignty. But He blesses me with these experiences as well. Because He is so good, and He is merciful. I still don't know the very best way to have handled that situation. But, next time, I will remember that He is a better planner than I. Because of this experience, we will also never forget that this house, and places we live after this one, are from God and to be used for His purposes. May this be true of 1514 King Street. We do not at all believe that God intends for us to have quality material possessions. If He provides something very different next time, we will still know, because of last weekend, that it is a gift.

There it is. An account of the works of our detail-oriented, well-planned, loving Lord. Yes, we are so pumped about the house. Yes, we would love for you to come stay. And, yes, I did take a gazillion pictures. For now, here are a few of my favorite details:

More to come about our first weekend spent in Columbia. Mainly what food we ate. Are you surprised?

wedding wednesday: 5 and 5

After a little post-wedding processing, [yes, I processed for eight months], I bring you the five things I'd do differently and five things I'd never change about our our wedding day.

1) While I was engaged and working in the Gov's press office, I would spend a lot of my free time thinking about what I wanted to say to my family, bridesmaids, and hostesses at my bridesmaids luncheon after I gave them their gifts. I knew that there would not be another time that I'd have all of those ladies in one place. So, I felt super prepared. And then, come wedding weekend, there were some moments that really stuck out to me earlier in the weekend that I wanted to mention that morning. So I really ended up being a blabbering and blubbering bride. Hopefully they felt loved.

2) I would have someone there telling the photographer what picture ideas I really wanted to make happen. Neither of us remembered in the hustle and bustle of the afternoon. Thankfully D remembered the either side of the door shot!

3) I'd take more time on the DJ or band list. Just...be specific.

4) I'd pack lighter for the wedding day. You should have seen the amount of things Dustin and his groomsmen were trying to get into our getaway car while be pounded with bird seed. I'd suggest duplicates of toiletries so that you can pack most of your goods in your honeymoon bags and leave the others behind.

5) I'd wear my veil with my runaway dress. My sister suggested it while I was changing, but I didn't do it. How cute would of those pictures been?

1) Not setting an alarm. Have your mom or sister or friend wake you up. No one wants to start the best day of their lives with an annoying alarm!

2) I don't regret not doing a first look. Walking down the aisle and seeing D for the first time was the most exciting moment of my life. I highly suggest it.

3) I stopped by our reception location after the bridesmaid lunch while on the way to the church. I got to see it fully decorated - a vision me and my mom and sister had been dreaming up for the last eight months. That in itself was really exciting, and it put my little planning mind at ease. Not to be cheesy (impossible), it was kind of magical. Thanks for sharing that with me, Katie!

4) If we splurged on anything - it was flowers. Flowers are our thing, and I go weak at the knees when I look at photos and see how wonderfully they turned out. Find what aspect of planning is your "thing" and splurge. Even if just a little.

5) Dance. Dance as much as you want. Dance with your friends, with your family, with your pastor and his wife. I have awesome parents who were wonderful hosts. So I just DANCED. Oh - and eat too. Definitely eat!

What would you do different? What would you never change?

the difference between saturdays

Last Saturday saw wide open spaces, cute puppies, chocolate cake, cute cows, and a cuter firewood-chopping husband.

This Saturday was different.

I think the guys who broke in were pretty disappointed to find out the wallet they thought they were snagging was actually my coupon book.

As wonderful as our weekend in Franklinton was, this Saturday will probably be more memorable. Memorable because it was unexpected to us [but planned by an always good God]. Memorable because the Baton Rouge Police, against the odds, caught the guy with our belongings. We are thankful for their service. Memorable because we shared in the experience of God's grace and comfort in the midst of a [somewhat] difficult situation. Memorable because we found comfort in the Lord's provision of a little emergency fund [with thanks to my Dave-Ramsey-loving husband]. And memorable because of the striking reminder of how much more fragile life is than a glass window. And how much more valuable than these fleeting possessions. I think I hugged Dustin extra tight that night when he came home.