almost home, always home

Someday we’ll laugh about this. I wish today was that day. Yesterday we signed our lease. Yesterday we moved the first boxes into our new apartment. Yesterday I remembered why we have always said that love is an adventure.

This apartment might end up being a big mistake. It took ten hours to get our keys. And when we finally did, there were real problems with the place. The refrigerator light is burned out. We need a new smoke detector. The bedroom doors haven’t been put back on their hinges and so does the hardware in the bathtub. The linen closet is missing a door handle. The window blinds haven’t been hung. The water is still shut off. Oh, and I may or may not have seen MICE TURDS under the kitchen sink. At 8:30 last night, things were feeling a little bleak. We were scrubbing the kitchen cabinets when we both suddenly stopped and looked at each other. It was one of those looks that said a million things. Things like, I love you. I’m scared. I love you. Why did we sign that lease? I love you. I’m so tired. I love you. What are we doing? I love you. Your butt looks great in those jeans (okay, maybe only I was thinking that). Maybe the thing that look mostly said was, You’re home. Not here or in the other place but with me. You’re home.

I had been feeling the anxiety bubbling up inside of me all day but somehow that look made everything seem a little softer, a little easier, just for a few moments.

Then we took pictures because who wouldn’t want to remember a night like that?

More moving updates and pictures to come!

almost home, always home,

elizabeth

The best and worst thing about being married

 

There is nothing like a late-night phone call to remind you that life is fragile, time is short, and no one but God knows the future.

The other night, in the middle of a small family crisis, I was reminded of that thing that is so hard to explain about marriage. Sitting on the floor next to Kyle as he made frantic phone calls to various family members, watching his forehead wrinkle in worry, his calloused fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his mouth pursed in a hard line, I thought, “This is what is so hard about being married. You aren’t just sharing a house, a bank account, a last name…you’re taking on every fear, every crisis, every unknown as if it was yours at birth.” There’s something frightening about that and comforting, too.

“I’m scared,” I whispered in Kyle’s ear.

He nodded.

I squeezed his hand. “I’m here,” I said. “I’ll be here no matter what, okay?”

“Yeah,” he said.

Somehow marriage doubles our fears and halves them at the same time.

A couple weeks ago, Kyle took me to dinner and I poured out my stresses on him. “I’m worried about this exam,” I told him. “I have so much to read and it feels like the time is slipping away and I’m not doing enough.”

“Just remember you’re not all alone,” he said. “I’m right here.”

Every joy is doubled; every pain is, too. And still, it makes me feel braver as we sit here on the floor by the couch, our shoulders and heads bent towards each other, waiting to hear good news, or bad news, or any news, at all. The best part and the worst part about being married is sitting here, holding your hand in the dark.

love, elizabeth

Being Intentional

Here’s the thing about this semester. I feel so lost. Studying for this candidacy exam or comps or generals or whatever it is we call it…it’s completely confusing. I mean, it sounds straightforward when they explain it to you. “Read this list of books. Take a test. Defend your answers. Pass.” But right now I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of reading in four different disciplines within my field and I am petrified that I am screwing this up. I can’t read fast enough or smart enough or carefully enough. There’s the time frame, too. 18 hours of writing…18 hours??? Who thought THAT up? I don’t even know if I have 18 hours of knowledge inside of me. And no matter how many times people tell me that I don’t need to know everything in every book, I still keep trying to read every word of every sentence of every chapter and I just don’t have TIME for that. The exam is two months away and I feel like I know less than ever. All that being said…this too will pass. Like every other impossible academic thing I’ve done so far, it will happen.

I’ve been realizing that a good part of my discouragement is coming from a feeling of aimlessness. I have somehow lost my intentionality.

And it’s not just my study habits that are suffering right now. It’s my downtime. I am realizing that I need to be just as intentional about the time I’m NOT reading as the time I am. It’s not actually restful or helpful if I spend every moment away from my books feeling guilty about not reading, worrying, making lists, or watching hours of mindless television streaming on the internet. I need to be intentional about seeking real rest and real renewal. I need to be intentional about physical activity. I need to be intentional about eating balanced meals and getting enough sleep. I need to be intentional about blogging.

Blogging has been a real place of solace and peace for me in the last couple of years. I really don’t want to lose its place in my routine. But that requires intentional time. I am choosing to blog right now. I am not watching TV. I am not sleeping. And I am not studying. I am blogging.

I guess the thing I’m learning is that being intentional in any circumstance requires you to live, if only temporarily, in that present moment. I need to live inside of a moment instead of trying always to bypass it, rush through it, always planning for the next crisis. I need to be here. With you. For just this moment.

love, elizabeth

moh-tuh-vey-shuhn, noun, from the medieval latin mōtīvus

Uhhh, you know how bloggers, lots of bloggers, get into a rhythm and a schedule? Like they post every day and they plan ahead and work it all out? This is not one of those posts. I just needed someone to talk to.

I am really flagging when it comes to my personal motivation lately. I have a reading list the size of Mars and the end of summer is looming ALREADY and I can’t summon the energy to clean the apartment or empty my inbox or study or ANYTHING. I want to be successful, I want to buckle down and get stuff done. But right now I feel like I’m just watching the calendar pages floating away like they do on old Saturday morning cartoons and I just want to stop the clock for another five or six weeks. WHEW.

I just needed to get that out there into the universe. This weekend, I plan to clean the apartment until it squeaks. And then maybe that reading list will seem more manageable somehow. I just can’t think inside the mess.

Alright. Make me feel better. What helps you get re-motivated when you’re in a slump?

love, elizabeth

Parting the Sea

I had a discouraging morning. Without boring you with the details, let’s just say I made some discoveries during a graduate school event that have reminded me of exactly HOW slim the chances of employment are for someone with a PhD in theatre. It’s actually really, really frightening. I’ve spent the last couple of hours mourning. Mourning my decision years and years ago to major in theatre and not something else, to pursue not one but THREE degrees in this field, to move across the country away from my family and friends and put myself through academic hell for this seemingly useless piece of paper. It’s a dark place, you guys.

I’ve always said that every time I’ve asked for a clear sign, God has opened the door, led me farther down this path. I said, “God, if I’m supposed to go to graduate school, please let me be accepted to the one school I really want to attend.” And then I was accepted. I said, “God, if I’m supposed to go to graduate school, please let me have funding.” And I got funding. I said, “God, if I’m supposed to get my PhD, please let me get accepted into the ONE program I applied for.” I got in. Every step, every time.

And this morning, I had a moment of anger and bewilderment. I found myself crying out to God, “Why did you bring me here to Columbus to this program? Why did you get me halfway to my doctorate only to let me discover it’s almost POINTLESS to keep going? Why didn’t you just let me major in nursing??”

And then I was struck, full-force, by a passage in the book of Exodus in the Bible. God has led Moses and the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt (uh, let’s be clear that I am in no way comparing my academic career to actual human slavery). He’s taking them to the Promised Land. God has delivered them from their captors, from their suffering. He has sent plague after plague upon their oppressors. He has delivered them at every. turn. He is actively working to fulfill their dream of freedom and hope and a new life. And then…the Pharaoh of Egypt sends his army after them, to chase them down where they are trapped against the shore of the Red Sea. And so naturally…

"The people began to panic, and they cried out to the Lord for help. […] ‘Why did you bring us out here to die in the wilderness? Weren’t there enough graves for us in Egypt? Why did you make us leave?’” (Exodus 14:10b-11, NLV).

And then…God parts. the. sea. WOW.

It’s like He says to us, “No way forward, huh? I’ll make one. If you would just trust me, Israelites. If you would just trust me, Elizabeth…Trust me and I will part the sea for you.”

 

Source: littleintrovertthings.tumblr.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

 

This morning I am so humbled by this. I have absolutely ZERO idea what the future holds. Will I finish my PhD? Will I get a tenure-track faculty position at a well-respected university? Will I do something else entirely? I don’t know.

But today, I am asking God to part the sea for me, not so that I can have the most lucrative or high-paying or well-respected job or even so that I can have a steady, stable income and career. Not even that. I am asking God to part the sea and lead me down the path to His dream for me. God, you don’t have to fulfill my dreams. But please, God, fulfill yours through me. Part the sea. And I will cross it.

What about you? What sea are you hoping to cross in your life? I hope today you are ENCOURAGED by the knowledge that God has dreams for you.

love, elizabeth

PS: Stay tuned…a Valentine’s Day giveaway is on the horizon…

Just Do the Next Thing

Sometimes I write my blog post titles and think, Well, now no one needs to read the actual post. This might be one of those times.

It's easy for me to feel a little panicked with the Monday dawn. Sometimes the whole being-a-PhD-student-thing accompanied by the married-woman-thing and the volunteer-advocate-thing with a heavy helping of the being-a-grownup-thing is a tad on the overwhelming side. Sometimes I want to scream, WHO GAVE ME ALL THESE THINGS?? THERE ARE TOO MANY THINGS!

Source: earmarkinvitations.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

In an occasional fit of panic, I call my mother who gives me the advice I now know by heart. It's very good advice. And very comforting to a worried worrier like me.

"Just do the next thing," she says. "Not ALL the things. Just the next one."

So today, I am trying to focus on "just the next thing."


What about you? What helps you cope when you're feeling overwhelmed?


love, elizabeth

This Morning I Am a Wildflower

I woke up worried about money this morning. I think we’ve all had those days. The first-of-the-month bills just seemed a little daunting and the checkbook felt a little thin and I felt a lot worried so I, naturally, shook Kyle awake so he could worry with me. After about twenty minutes of listening to me go through every little miniscule detail of our finances, he murmured a reminder about this to me…

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life^? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?

 

Source: flickr.com via Elizabeth on Pinterest

Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it.

– Luke 12: 22b-29 (NIV)

So this morning I am a raven, I am a wildflower. and I am putting myself back in the hands of God where I belong.

What about you? How’s your Friday going?

love, elizabeth

PS: The fall giveaway closes tonight at midnight. Have YOU entered?