I wish I had never lost my zeal for writing these posts during the focus on that book I swear I WILL finish; that in the 101 days that have passed since my last post I would have told you about my fiancé. Or that I would have told you about those 9 kids who changed my life during my internship at the high school. I wish I would have written more about the house buying process and that whole “living together is hard” thing. So instead I’ll write to you my days; these days that have pulled me in so deep, I can’t breathe through it all but I do because how can I not?!
October 28. 256 days. Persistence. Perseverance.
I met Trey wearing sweats and my glasses. Friends, I don’t know what it’s like to be speechless; to not have words… or to not need words. But I met Trey, and Lord knows, I did NOT need words (that’s the joke- that my quiet and loving fiancé would NOT stop talking that night we met. Literally, I got in two words, “see ya!”). But in the 256 that have since followed, God’s given me two much better ones through him: persistence and perseverance. I’ve had this whole new lesson on persistence. This whole new “thanks” for perseverance. This whole new “my life wouldn’t be here” if it weren’t for HIS persistence and perseverance. And God said somewhere in those hard and lonely preceding days, “I will fight for your heart, child!” So Trey did.
We’re at my family reunion in Texas right now. A cousin asked me last night, “So did you know right away?!” I go, “NO! I tried to break up with him 3 times!!!!”
Persistence. Perseverance. It’s a beautiful thing people. And we’re freakin’ owning it these days.
November 11. 241 days. Scars & Survival.
Exactly fifteen days after meeting the man that was already fighting for me, I fell on my face. I fell hard. Not like the time I fell uphill on grass, or at the metro on our first REAL date… I fell on my face the kind of fall that had family and friends holding onto me, carrying me, breathing for me in those 37 days that followed.
These have been my words since, as I tell the survival story to others who suffer through their own anxiety and depression. “I have two scars: one that will forever remind me that I am a survivor, and another that tells me every day is a battle that can be won through perseverance and persistence. We are strong. We are more than. We are His.”
Trey prayed for me from afar. He sent me texts that were interceded by my sister and friends. “Thinking of you… praying for you… I’m here for you…” and even “when can I see you again?” And sometimes, I still don’t know why he loves me so, but oh how he carries me, and He carries us…
January 26. 165 days. THIS LOVE.
I remember telling Trey he was crazy to want to be with me–but oh how he fought for me! So on the day that I realized this was the love I’d been praying for, I surrendered….and then told him he had 101 days to buy me “one of these four rings.” (and then like all pinterest loving un-flitered ladies would, I pulled out my “rings I want from Mr. The One” board…what can I say, I’m a planner). It took him 70.
That night, the one when I fell on my face. I was playing Taylor Swift. That girl- I hate her and I love her. And this song was on repeat as tears streamed down my face. I get it when it’s all for me and for us, you might not. But that night, surrendering to the ideal of other 28 year old almost spinsters… God fought for me (but more on that in my book)…and the song, oh how it just means so much more now…
“Clear blue water, high tide came and brought you in and I could go on and on, on and on, and I will. Skies grew darker, currents swept you out again, and you were just gone and gone, gone and gone…In silent screams, in wildest dreams, I never dreamed of this…This love is alive back from the dead. These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to me…and this love came back to me.”
He brought it back to me. And so we love this love, our love.
April 7. 95 days. Will you? and Yes.
At some point my speechlessness ended and as he tells the story, “Even when I’m proposing she interrupts me…” But after I finished my “Now?! You’re doing it NOW?!!!!” he asked me, “Will you marry me?” I said yes. And in these days that follow, I’m understanding more the commitment in my yes, that has me living a partnership and unity I don’t think I’ll ever fully comprehend. My yes to fall more in love with him everyday. Like today- as he sets up the ironing board to iron his own shorts (completely unprompted so that I can finish writing. Or yesterday, because he walks with my dad holding his hand, helping him off the curb…wait. and even yes to the choice to fall more in love with him every day… like right now as he says, “Sweetie, I set up the ironing board, if you finish that while I’m in the shower…”
This “yes,” and the “will you?” choice, I’ll choose it forever with him.
April 28. 73 days. Home.
When people found out we were buying a house I think they thought we were crazy. Note: if that’s when they first started asking about our “craze” there was probably something more wrong with them. I mean seriously, we were engaged 161 days after meeting each other. But we wanted to build our home. And so for 73 days, we have been. It’s hard though; the “put the toilet seat down” (which he reminds me of)..or the “Trey?! This is the whites only basket…” and there are some “we’ll call them quarrels” type of fights. And questions. But they bring us closer. every. single. time.
I heard long ago, “home isn’t a place, people are.” At some point, sitting on the couch we bought together, looking at this man that allowed me to rip out a closet to install my very own shoe closet I realized, I’d been homesick for him my entire life.
May 16. 55 days. Master.
I’m far from a Master… but I do have my Masters. And that journey has taken me along a path that was wild and crazy and had me finding out the best parts of me and the worst parts of me. So as I walked across the stage hearing my name and the people who were with me through it all, I got the closest glimpse of what it might be like to be a master. Because shoot. I mastered that shit. Did you know that master *in verb form* means to overcome. Master.
July 11. Ironing.
He just got out of the shower…looked at the shorts, looked at me, looked at the shorts, looked at me and so I said, “I love you.” We’re ironing a lot in these days. Ironing the wrinkles out as we make our way to the smooth parts that will unite us as one. 126 days before then though…
So as he says, “I can’t wear my grey shorts because they’re wrinkled…” He irons. (Little does he know I’m “ironing” too… and signing off for now saying, “I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”
His reply, “Good because I want to go get you starbucks.”
God- thank You for him.
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And there’s just so much more– I could go on and on and on… but these days are holding me and I can’t go on without writing just a little, just a little bit to remember this contentment. This grip that I finally hold firmly to in our days. The ones that are painting us something almost perfect.
