Romantic Dumpsters

Boxes. Boxes. Boxes. Everywhere I look. Boxes. Trash. Boxes.

Lately I've felt like my entire world is one big box. A box to unwrap, unpack, peel a tiny sticker off, rinse and put away. But then, there leaves the empty box. And that box becomes another box and another and another until that pile consumes my entire kitchen. And I have a moment where I might just explode. But then we take a trip to the dumpster. And it is all released, thrown away and new again.

I can't help but laugh about how much my newlywed life has revolved around a dumpster. The countless trips to the illegal dumpster where we go at night so we don't attract the poor restaurant owner who has to wonder why every morning there are more Bed Bath and Beyond boxes in his dumpster, than his own leftover food.

But I was thinking this morning about our romantic dumpster trips. Because every box we throw away is a small piece of our old lives going away, leaving small spaces for our new life. The cieling-high piles are dwindling, leaving room for shiny new toys; and photos of the wedding are being moved into the spaces that once held stacks of wedding planning books.

I'll be glad when all of the boxes are gone. But can't wait to see all that remains in our new life together.

Till I'm New Again

What is this sun that conquers mountains
Singing over what has been asleep?
What is it that softens all my doubting?
It's You

Morning brings a hunger for new eyes
That have been covered by the hurt of yesterday
Who could create in me the vision of a little child?
It's You

You take an ordinary day
And turn it into flowers like the month of May
Yes, You do

You see all my pain
And cry over it for hours till I'm new again
Yes, You do

When I have been a victim of familiarity
When my heart has fallen into sleep
Healing is the voice that awakens me
And it is You

You, you make me new
You make me new
Oh, You make me new

-- "New" Bethany Dillon

Nothing I Wouldn't Do

I am still reeling. Reeling from the wedding. From the move. From everything.

I'm still remembering tidbits of things that made that day so special and memorable.

And I hope to capture those as they pop up in my brain.

But most of all, I hope to capture the feelings and emotions of now. Of this new life. Of married life. It's strong. It's potent. And powerful. But at the same time it's everyday, normal and safe.

It's a pretty incredible feeling. Freedom and connection in one place. Safety and adventure. Exciting and simple. All at the same time. It's pretty amazing.

From the Other Side

LOVE.

Hop On Board

I had a moment last night. A moment where someone says something that stuns you enough leaving you speechless.

"You're not enjoying, you're processing."

How true. This was said to me by none other than my lovely hubby to be, who in his heart of hearts cares so deeply that he was concerned I was missing out on the best moments because my brain was already thinking about the next. We had just moved furniture into our new house, and I was quietly processing everything that needs to get done before next Saturday, instead of enjoying that moment.

He was right. Well, part right. :)

I've tried my best through all of this to soak it all in. To truly breathe in the grandness and grandiose-ness of the engagement, wedding planning, love-dovey stuff. And I think I've done a really good job. But, in these last few weeks, when the details start to pile up, he has a point that this is when I should most be happy and let these moments wash over me, instead of trying to keep them at bay to accomplish my to-do list.

I don't want to process the wedding. I don't want to process the honeymoon. And I certainly don't want to process being married. I want to live it. To enjoy it. To experience it.

And that's exactly what I plan to do from this moment on. Seize the day!

This Woman's Worth

Ch-ch-ch-changes.

I've had to say good-bye a lot lately.

Good-bye to a life that I built for myself, a single life, a life that I grew weary of and am ready to leave behind, but something that was wholly mine all the same. I created a little home in my 700-square-foot apartment, a haven from the world that was all mine to be messy, to decorate pitiful Christmas trees and watch as many episodes of Gilmore Girls as I wanted to.

Good-bye to a sister who has always been within reach. Always been a car ride away from a girls night complete with musicals, movies and supper. A lifetime of being a few bedroom doors away now has become a kagillion bedroom doors and miles away.

Good-bye to an era of freedom. A time in life where everything is open, free, exciting and new. LSU created in me a sense of adventure and individuality that flourished with my group of friends that made me whole.

All of these good-byes have given me a great sense of sadness.
But I've seen such joyful things through them all.

Saying good-bye to my single life, means I now have a partner in life. Someone will be by my side through it all, someone who understands me (usually more than I do myself) and will carry me when I can't go another step (not to mention carry the groceries in from the car).

Saying good-bye to a sister has taught me more about how I want to be. I want the courage of my sister and brother-in-law to step out on faith and begin a new adventure. The tenderness and undying love of my mother who I happily turn into more each day. And the strength and sacrifice of my father, who through it all is a pillar of faith and love.

But it seems that after every goodbye, there is a moment of joy. A moment where your heart twinges and says "it will be OK." Through it all, it will turn into something bigger and better than you could have ever dreamed. And all of those joyful moments are carrying me through to May 1 and on.

Something Good

It's getting closer. Closer and closer by the day, is the day of all days. WEDDING DAY.

I've had the most amazing few months. I feel as though I have to take each moment and encapsulate them in little marbles of memories to store them in a glass jar by my bed so that everyday I can take them out and remember the moments over and over again. The showers, the parties, the planning, everything has been happening so fast, yet so purposefully and so in the right direction that I feel as though I'm on a wedding conveyer belt, steadily heading towards the altar. Smooth sailing (knock on wood!)

These last two months are going to be even better. Ever greater. Ever more sweet and humbling.