The last week has been a blur and despite a nice little summary in yesterday’s Thursday Three, I’m still catching up. Catching up on sleep, catching up on chores, catching up with friends and catching up on life. I said earlier in the week to a friend that I am so ready for this season to be over. This season of job searching and insecurity. This season of questions, doubt and rejection. I wanted it all tied up with a bow and accompanied by a job offer.
But that’s not required. This season is changing, and I can begin again. I don’t have to wait for someone from HR to call and tell me that it’s time for something new. New is here. I am ready for a new season and can begin right now. Maybe I’ll begin a new career with a completely different direction. Or maybe I’ll just begin to truly see the value in my time.
It’s a new day. A fresh vase of flowers. A new ripple in the waves. The first of the month and a time to begin.
This is new. Whatever it is. Let’s begin…
This was written based on a prompt in Five Minute Fridays which simply said: begin.
Do you ever have one of those weeks where you go from feeling like, “Hey, I’ve got this. Life, I think it’s going pretty well. I’m doing what I’m supposed to and that’s awesome.” But then an hour later someone says something or you get an email and suddenly it feels like your world has shifted enough that you no longer know who you are or what to think? This week was a little like that for me.
1. The interview process is such a strange system. In a matter of a few hours you are supposed to assess a company and they assess you on being a match. Can you imagine if people dated for the same length of time before marrying someone? But it is the system we have, so I try to do my best. I had the privilege of being a finalist for two different positions at two incredibly different organizations the past few weeks. In both cases, I went through several rounds of interviews and felt they went quite well. The rejection letters I received a few days later seemed to say otherwise. So, back to the drawing board and trying not to feel defeated but to instead focus on what it really is that I am capable of and should be doing in this season of life. I can’t say that’s an easy matter to sort through, but it’s where I’m at right now. I still have joy and faith, which is even more than I could hope for.
Here’s me feeling excited, exhausted and relieved after several hours of interviewing.
2. Exercise is good, but exercising outside with friends is better. I try to stay active when I can, not only to stay fit looking, but I think it can really make a great impact on your mood (and of course your health, looks aside). The hubby and I have been biking a bit more lately and there’s a group of friends from the neighborhood regularly suggesting group rides. This last week has been so much cooler than the rest of the summer, so we’ve gotten to bike, go disc golfing and I’ve had some good long walks with a friend.
3. There are some really cool things happening in the world. Today I had the pleasure of joining a few other women in the area to talk about God and church and faith. None of us had met before, but we were brought together by IF which is a nonprofit founded by Jennie Allen to “gather, equip and unleash the next generation of women to live out their purpose.” To be honest, we just talked. We didn’t solve world problems, we didn’t even solve our own problems. But we got together to share life and support each other. It was a small thing with just a few women, but it’s happening all over the world, which sorta makes it a big thing.
So, if you somehow haven’t noticed, a few things are changing around here. I have migrated my blog and am working on getting it all set up still. In the past week I’ve spent a lot of time on my blog, but very little time actually blogging. Seems silly but that’s where we’re at. Past that, it’s been a fairly busy past few weeks with a lot of out-of-town guests and job searching.
I’m going to keep this post short, but leave you with an update on our little garden. It seems that overnight it has exploded!
Last monthThis weekendWe have a cantaloupe!Such a lovely birthday gift!
The last few days I have been feeling inspired. No, scratch that. The last 24 hours I have felt inspired while the previous day or two I was feeling a little bummed out. Job searching brings on a lot of disappointment and rejection, and it’s hard to combat those feelings all of the time. It’s not something I want to dwell on, but something I want to be real about.
What has me pretty excited is blogging. You know, this thing I do sometimes, right here where you are reading. I’ve been thinking about all of the different things I want to write about and what you might want to read. I’m very much a collaborative thinker—get me in a good brainstorm session and I am totally energized by all of the possibility and potential. So tell me, faithful readers…what would you like to hear about? How can I improve my storytelling? What sounds interesting to you?
Just drop me a line…landline, email, text message, comment, whatever. Tell me what would make this blog worth reading. What inspires you. What motivates you. What mistakes of mine you can learn from. What stories you want to hear.
I’ve been given some extra special attention this birthday. Thank you to all of the friends and family who acknowledged the day is some way or another. Cards, meals, well wishes—all were appreciated. But I did get a few extraordinary items that I feel need to be mentioned.
His and her undies. I have to say, didn’t expect that one. I’ll let all of my gift-givers remain anonymous unless I hear otherwise, but it was quite the surprise to find this in the mailbox.
Camera for the collection. Over time I’ve acquired quite a few cameras from various thrift stores and garage sales, so I was delighted to be entrusted with one more, one so different from the rest.
The gag gift of all gags. Apparently there was some super sale at a dollar store which included these sweet little sponges supposedly to provide a little extra support. The waiter wasn’t sure what to think when I unwrapped this one.
Happy Birthday to me. Yep, I got a gift for myself. I’d been wanting to own this since the minute I finished watching it the first time. Lo’ and behold, the day before my birthday it was on sale at Target. If you haven’t seen it, please do—the cover is misleading but I promise it is so much more than a couple’s love story.
A little piece of home. At the end of the night, the hubby gave me this long desired necklace to show some state pride. The photo is clearly a selfie and the lighting is poor, but happy to share it anyway.
For the past few weeks I have thought a lot about this post. Something about turning 25 seems to matter and tomorrow that’s just what I’ll do. I don’t often put a lot of stock in birthdays and typically don’t even let people know it’s happening. My husband can probably tell you about times when we have gone to hang out with people or been at a party and I forbade him to tell anyone that it was my birthday. I don’t really know why, but I’ve kept it more or less secret for awhile. This year I opened the flood gates and made my birthday visible to the masses on Facebook.
Years ago, while studying abroad in college I remember missing a surprise party for someone back home. He was turning 25, and it felt monumental to me at the time. The quarter century mark. We had a fair amount in common, and I looked up to him and respected him (still do, although I haven’t seen him in years). It just felt like something was really happening in his life at that turning point, and I don’t really know why I felt that way or what it was.
As I sit here eating cold pizza and writing a blog on the eve of my birthday I’ve never felt more like a millennial. Not only do I typically hide my birthday, but I often avoid revealing my age. I’ve felt older than my real age since kindergarten. Looking younger than I am never helps, but my friends are almost all older. My adulthood seemed to start sooner between being financially independent after high school, graduating college early and getting married young. I hate being belittled for my age. Yet, here I am, embodying the status quo of a millennial. No job but plenty educated, no idea where I’m going in life, chasing happiness and freelancing on the side. Being married in this time of unemployment has kept me from retreating to my mother’s basement, thankfully.
In the weeks leading up to tomorrow I had hoped something would come to me—an understanding of what this milestone birthday meant or some pearl of wisdom to share. Alas, I have little to offer there. This birthday still feels big though, like something has to happen or is happening. I almost expect to wake up in the morning and actually feel different.
I’m no longer a teenager and haven’t been one for more years than I spent in high school. I’ve been driving for over a decade yet still panic whenever I see a police car. I live with the man I married but am constantly amazed by the power of love. I leave clothes on the floor more often than not but never go a day without making the bed. I like my hair long and seldom wear makeup. Drinking has lost its luster, but I know which wines I most prefer. I have a good group of friends and like to think I am one in return. Budgeting has allowed me (us) to be debt-free, but I still fall prey to a $20 dress in Target almost every time I’m there. I go to the grocery store weekly, but almost never cook. My watch is worn almost daily, but I always seem to be running at least five minutes late. I love writing but will put it off for days for no good reason other than my own insecurities. I have learned a few things about myself but don’t always recognize the person in the mirror.
The next stage in life is a total mystery, when up until this point I always had some sort of plan. Something is happening, but I guess I will have to tell you what it is later. Welcome to 25.
The couchsurfer that stayed with us last week had many things to say and talk about, but one of those things was dating. Currently from Houston but otherwise from India, he asked what the foundation of the dating culture in America was. (Did I mention he was some type of scientist that I don’t even fully know how to pronounce? Yes, he was quite intelligent and processed life in a very technical way, which is different from the way I see the world.)
We were taken aback by the question. What was the dating culture all about? After a pause, the hubby said something along the lines of maybe we weren’t the best example of American dating. But in thinking more about it, I’m not sure there is a perfect example of what American dating should be.
There’s the stereotypical high school or college sweethearts…or there’s the statistically more common date-and-marry-in-your-late-twenties. For some reason sometimes it feels like this country assumes you do one or the other, but I don’t see why. Everyone has their own story and that’s okay. I don’t think ours is necessarily the right way, but at the same time I’ve come to terms with it not being the wrong way either. For a while I strayed away from the topic and definitely avoided mentioning our ages. It felt like I would receive one of two responses—either instant judgment for how young we were (yes, sometimes out loud) or immediate agreement that young love is the way to go. The thing is, I know we were young and I don’t think it is for everyone…in fact, I’d even go as far as saying that I don’t think it’s for most. It was hard and required sacrifices, but I wouldn’t trade it.
This was our story. It wasn’t always full of whimsy or ease, but we did fall in love and continue to do so more and more every day.
Our Dating Story
We met the summer I turned 18 and he turned 20. We were young and just starting to feel comfortable in our own skin (despite what you may think in the unflattering photo above). I usually say we met at a Battle of the Bands—which is totally true but conveniently makes it sound rather epic. He was that cute keyboardist dancing along to the songs while playing in my friend’s band. The guy I was with at the time (read: someone else who was nice but is now happily married to a lovely lady and living in cold Minnesota) wasn’t particularly thrilled when I voted for someone else’s band…but I went with my gut. A short time later, that fizzled out. A group of friends soon formed consisting of the guys in the band and the girls who hung around but refused to accept the term “groupie” (still true). It became known as the best summer ever. We went camping, met weekly for noodles-and-tea and shared bits of our lives with each other.
Summer came to an end, and we all headed different ways for college. The question was never “to date or not to date” but rather, “what do we do about these feelings we have for each other?” After a few long talks and some dancing in the rain (literally), we parted with the understanding that we weren’t going to date. Well, that didn’t last long. While I tried to find feelings for some of the guys at school, he complained that some girl (that’s me) was “wrecking his life” in the best way possible.
We struggled to date from a distance. It required each of us to put our heart on the line and put things that were right in front of us on hold. We wrestled with doubt and insecurities—both as a couple and as individuals. Somehow, we had to determine what dating should look like and what was to be expected of one another. We didn’t always see eye to eye on that, but we liked each other anyway.
Long distance wasn’t easy, but ultimately we decided to try and make it work. I ended up transferring from a school in Missouri to a school back in Iowa…a week after he moved another two hours away to live with his band in another town. For the next few years it stayed long distance as he pursued his dreams and I pursued mine. We knew we were young and this was the time. I studied abroad, and he focused all of his energy on music. Being in different locations meant we spent a lot of time on the phone and had to learn how to communicate and invest in our relationship without being together all the time. We ran into issues and fought, particularly when we questioned whether our dreams aligned. We weren’t always sure if we fit, and some friends/family doubted our connection especially considering my lack of music involvement.
While I was studying and traveling the world, he managed to secure a full-time job and some stability. A few months after I got back, he got down on one knee. I graduated from college and found a full-time job as we planned a wedding. It was a stressful and crazy time of engagement that he likes to refer to as the “best worst time” of a couple’s life. Of course we knew we were young, perfect strangers wouldn’t let us forget it. We also knew that we loved each other. We had pursued our own passions but wanted to do life together. We committed to loving each other from then on, so, at ages 21 and 23, we said I do.
What’s the foundation of dating in America? I can’t speak to that. For us, it was a relationship rooted in love, a genuine interest in each other and a willingness to see where that led.
I can’t help but feel like right now I am trying to shake out all of the remedies. I’m sad? Oh! Well, hide it. No, admit to it. Think happy thoughts. Feel the pain. Eat chocolate. Work out. Help someone else. Ask for help. Maintain a routine. Do whatever feels right.
Ah! It’s like I’m trying to kick a cold as fast as I can.
I don’t know what the answer is going to be here. There’s probably a combination of all of the above that will occur. Truth be told, I want this gloominess to be over and out. Let’s get back to the good and happy. But I’m going to have to wait this out. You can’t slap a bandaid on everything and expect real healing. There’s something important happening when we face trials—perseverance.
Here’s a glimpse at this year’s Christmas card. There’s something I completely love about doing these each year. While it’s a lot of effort to take on amidst a busy season, it’s a welcomed opportunity to share a little love and joy…even if it’s just through smiles and songs. We’re fairly simple people but always have more than enough of those to give.
