Divine Imperfections

High Flying

Yesterday my husband ( :) ) and I had a lunch date in the “coffee bar” at my work.

It’s not an actual coffee bar, mind you. They don’t lock baristas in the closet at night. It’s just a room in the church that has a few couches, bistro tables, coffee makers and large quantities of Folgers scooped up from Sam’s Club.

Still, sometimes, it has donuts leftover from the Sunday School class that meets there. Needless to say, I like the coffee bar.

 

Monday was a long morning (and there were no donuts). Thankfully, my Hubby joined me for my lunch break, and with him he brought a toasted sandwich, sour cream and onion chips, and a breath of fresh air.

Since we’re ridiculously fast eaters, we were able to make a sweet tea run after eating.

And when we got back to the office I still had 30 minutes of lunch break left. SCORE!

 

So, instead of rushing back inside, back to the daily grind, we seized the opportunity to enjoy the sunshine and headed to the swing set out back.

Right away I went for one of the almost-too-small rubber seats, and I began rocking my legs back and forth.

I don’t know if you’ll recall this, but swinging is serious business. Especially when you’re pushing 30 and fighting gravity as I am.

Gratefully, without me even asking/begging, Mikael began to push me higher and higher into the sky. It’s hard to explain why I needed that, but apparently I did.

 

I needed to watch my feet soar above the gravel below, to spend a moment lost in the clouds instead of bogged down by the world and all its troubles. And I needed that time with my husband, knowing (and feeling) that he truly has my back.

 

When I first moved to Waco I remember having many a lunch on the playground out back. That was before a storm knocked over the slide, and before diligent coworkers planted seed for the little league fields now fenced in and waiting for spring.

It was long before Mikael swooped in, much less lour engagement, wedding, honeymoon, and now marriage.

Back then I remember feeling utterly alone during many of those lunch breaks, longing for a friend much less a soul mate to share mundane things like Mondays with.

I was terrified at the time to talk to my coworkers (who turned out to be super nice), much less to try meet anyone else in my new city, so I mostly stayed to myself.

 

But I wasn't really alone. And I realized this most deeply, not while working in the quiet office inside a church building, but in a more unlikely place… the familiarity of a swing set almost identical to the one I had frequented in elementary school.

I read books there. Took deep breaths there. Watched a bag of chips or two cast away by the wind there. (Sorry earth.)

But I also met God there. When I needed Him most, I called out on Him, and He was there. In the wind. In the quiet. In His Word. And in my heart. He was there.

 

Yesterday, though so much has changed in the last year, I again found comfort in that familiar place – somewhere between heaven and earth. (Cheesy I know!)

Yes, life is ever changing - it's both sunny and shadowed, simple and complicated, exhilarating and heartbreaking.

But no matter how many changes we face, there are still things that remain the same.

 

The joy of swinging is one of those things for me. I can’t imagine ever growing tired of feeling lost in the clouds the way I do when I swing.

Far more importantly, though, there’s God, who is and was and will be to come.

 

As a kid I don’t think I saw the appeal in a God that never changes. I couldn’t wait to grow up, to be somewhere else, someone different than the silent, nerdy girl in the Coke-bottle glasses… I was always looking forward to something just a bit down the road, so it was hard for me to understand why anyone, much less an omnipotent One, would stay the same forever.

But I think I’m slowly starting to get it... why, in a world that is constantly changing, it is important to have a Constant (to borrow a term from Lost), someone who both grounds you and propels you onward, ever forward.

 

I’m so thankful for a God like that. One I can count on to always, always have my back. 

And now I am praying that He might also have all of me.

Weeeeee're Back!

Late Friday afternoon MY HUSBAND and I ( :) Can you believe it? ) returned from a really wonderful trip to Austin.

I'll try and post pictures from that soon. Turns out I really love Austin, a lot. And, of course, Mikael too. ;)

After one-last stop in Round Rock (hello Ikea hotdogs!) on the way back, we finally made it home, and I'm excited to settle into life together. You know life post-room service. (Actually, I'll miss the maid service.)

There's a lot to do now that we're back. There's decluttering on my part, and unpacking on his.

And while sending out actual thank-you's is definitely on our list of to-do's, I can't help but start now, by saying THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE! Thanks for the love and the dishes, and towels, and Apple Jacks and hand-crafted goodies, and the bag of buttons that made it back from the wedding... we are beyond blessed to know such great people, something we commented on lots while opening cards and reading Mad Libs after arriving at our hotel last week.

 

Like anxious kids on Christmas morning we tore into all the presents as soon as we got back. That was one to-do we were happy to tackle.

It was such a delight coming into the apartment and seeing our spare bedroom (office/music/crafting/guest room) filled with gifts. And they weren't just prettily packaged generic things, they were thoughtful gifts that so perfectly capture us as a pair.

There was a rice cooker (thanks Aaron & Shannon) for him, and a coffee maker for me (thank you CP & Susan), and cute embroidered towels (they're adorable Katie!) and UP (the first thing we registered for - love you Ginny!). That's not to mention an Aguilar tile that travelled all the way from Abilene, and Winnie the Pooh dishes which are super cute.

I could go on and on about all the sweet things we've received. Only not right now, 'cause there's laundry to do. Lots of it. (And so married life begins. ;) )

It truly is humbling realizing we are surrounded (figuratively) by people that love us and are cheering us on, not to metion surrounded (physically) by lovely, tangible evidence of that.

So, thank you to the many people who gifted us with their presence on our special day last week (or rooted us on from afar), and thank those of you who generously funded many a dinner on our honeymoon, and have continued to support us with prayers!

And thanks for filling our living room with gadgets and gizmos aplenty, and our lives with love. :) (How cheesy am I?)

We really cannot thank you enough, but by golly we're gonna try.

Thank you. Thank you.

 

 

 

Right Where WE Should Be

Last night, after spending hours talking with our pastor and his wife, about everything from conflict resolution to Barry White (bow-chick-a-wow-WOW), I returned home to “my” apartment, for the last time.

 

Though I am ecstatic to marry Mikael, and anxious to begin OUR life together, I explained to him as I was leaving that I was also glad to have one more night alone.

 

After 27 years of them being the norm, the only life I’d known, it seemed important I have one last ceremonial evening to myself.

 

So, I entered my quiet apartment, and got ready for bed. I peed with the door open – knowing that’ll be the last time I do that for a while. And I put on my ugliest, comfiest pajamas (tattered pants and a Mexican beer t-shirt I bought for 50 cents once – its super soft, but not nearly so sexy). 

 

I checked the locks. And turned out all the lights. And then, I crawled into my giant, empty king-sized bed, squeezing my poor, stuffed Elmo tight as I drifted to sleep.

 

 

To be honest, the night wasn’t as poetic as I expected. I was too tired to scrawl in my pink cupcake journal, the way I did for decades before my love came along.

And I didn’t feel any different when I woke uncharacteristically early this morning.

 

But even though last night didn’t really feel like the rite of passage I had expected, I did wake up feeling incredibly grateful… grateful that soon I’ll spend my evenings with two arms wrapped around me…. grateful that I’ll have a strong, thoughtful man to check the locks on the doors before WE go to sleep.

 

And best of all, I’ll wake up beside my best friend. My confidant. A man that makes me giggle, and makes my knees weak, and who I know, loves me unconditionally ( a fact evidenced by his response to my text explaining my relative happiness about one last night to cuddle Elmo).

 

 

What a strange, surreal and WONDERFUL feeling, realizing I’ll soon be Mrs. Jennifer Aguilar. How fabulous knowing it’s at last time to trade in my microwaveable dinners for home cooked meals for two.

 

I know I am deeply blessed to get to share my life with someone I deeply love, and last night it was that thought that steered my prayers to thanksgiving.

 

Last night I realized not how far I’ve come, but how graciously the Lord has brought me to this place - to the start of a new chapter, one I’ve dreamed of my whole life.

 

I thought about how many nights I spent crying over unrequited “love” in my teens, and all the times in college I spent crying on my knees, fearful that true love would never come.

 

I thought about all the diary entries I scrawled about wishing for someone to simply hold my hand.  And I thought about how well Mikael does that, how well he holds me.

 

 

And so, tomorrow we will get married, and everything won’t go according to plan. It’s inevitable. I woke knowing full well that there will be snafus here and there.

 

I might chip a nail. I might trip on my dress. I might spew snot all over Mikael as we’re saying our vows (though I really really hope not, and I’m sorry Babe if I do).

 

The cake could topple over in transport (no worries Steph; I’ll eat it off your floorboards). It could rain, or snow. This is Texas.

 

My brother could forget the lyrics of the song he’ll sing. The ring bearer may freak out at the sight of people he doesn’t know, and never make it down the aisle.

 

BUT, I’m not TOO worried about any of that, because I know what a blessing it is that I will, make it down the aisle.

 

Tomorrow I will take steps to the man I am choosing to marry, I will look him in his beautiful brown eyes and pledge my life to him. And then we will get to leave, hand-in-hand, as long as we both shall live.

 

As surreal as it is to think about where I am today – at the moment sitting on my bedroom floor, surrounded by centerpiece decorations – I really couldn’t be happier – or have anymore peace – about what we’re doing.

 

Because I know the Lord has brought us to this place. I know He has good plans in store for us.  And I know, it is a blessing to be an ALMOST married woman.

Lessons on TLC

I probably am insane, for thinking twice before throwing away the Buffalo Wild Wings punch card, a place I've visited exactly twice in the year I've lived in Waco.

Yes, I probably should be able to throw "trash" like that away without pause.

And whether I blame it on the music I've selected to accompany my big clean out (a melancholy Pandora mix), or the time in junior high I was heavily scolded for losing a small plastic container filled with craft stamps... it all boils down to this...

I have issues letting go.

Big ones.

I really do.

 

This isn't groudnbreaking news to me, you, or anyone that has ever lived with me. It's not news to the guy who's about to live with me either - the fiance waiting in the living room for me to finish this task before we can write out our wedding vows.

And yet, even with such pressing issues waiting, I still paused when I saw the Poppa Rollo's receipt. I thought about the time my church group went there. (I was late 'cause I was looking for a Mexican restaurant instead of a pizzeria.)

And then I thought about how it was the last time I saw my ex-boyfriend not sure if we'd get back together. And how thankful I am that we didn't.

Then I thought about the last time I went there for pizza. It was with the man now sitting on the couch. We doodled on the menus while we waited forever for our food to come. And we talked about our future. And we laughed. And then we left, the receipt no doubt crammed in my purse for "scrapbooking" purposes, which is delusional code for "laying eternally in a pile on my floor."

 

Truth is, I am overwhelmed with gratitude to be where I am, with a fiance waiting mostly patiently in the other room.

It takes my breath away - in a good way - sometimes thinking about it.

But sometimes it feels like a punch to the gut, when I start thinking about what I would do if this life I'm living now - the one that involves someone that loves me enough to wait while I sort through my "scrapbooking" supplies (piles of crap) - were to go away. And when those thoughts creep in, I comfort myself by thinking about all the memories I'll be surrounded by.

And then, eventually, I think about how that wouldn't be a comfort at all. And how I've been there before, not just surrounded by - but buried - in painful memories of the past... so buried it's impossible to enjoy the present.

Basically, BURIED ALIVE.

 

It scares me that even now, while trying to talk sense to myself, I can lock myself away in my room, with only the sad crooning of A Fine Frenzy to keep me company. Why do I do this?

Why?

Attachment issues or not, sometimes there are more important things to cling to than the Toyota rims of your old car. Sometimes there are more pressing things than scrapbooking a first Christmas together, like celebrating it. Living it. Enjoying it.

And then enjoying what comes next, like New Year's... and Valentine's. And March. And eventually, another Christmas.

 

I'm trying... To learn to let go, and to let go of more, and quicker.

I'm filling up the trash bag. I'm loosening my grasp on all these things that won't matter in the end.

But from one pack rat to another, I'm sure there's at least one of you out there, it's hard. IT'S REALLY HARD. Learning to embrace the wonderful opportunities in front of you, instead of clinging to the past.

It's definitely easier, though, when the "opportunity" has arms that can hug you back.

 

A few nights ago we were watching Buried Alive, and I watched in shock and horror (pretending the lady surrounded by trash was nothing like me). But deep down I knew the truth. And so did Mikael.

"I'm not saying we have to be neat freaks or anything. I just don't want to end up on TLC," he told me after the show.

 

It hurt my feelings a little - sure - a lot of truths do.

But as those words rattle, and as the piles shrink sllooooowwwlyyyy, I am reminded what this battle is really about.

 

Yes, it's hard learning to let go - of the past. Of memories good and bad. Of old friends.

But it's so important, because learning to let go helps us learn to trust...

To trust that we have a bright future ahead of us. To trust that there is still joy to come.

And ultimately, to trust that LOVE can come and stay.

 

Tonight, realizing I'm exactly one heartbreak and a bout with diabetes away from being that woman in the recliner that I pitied deeply... I'm much more inclined to let go knowing the great blessing it is to have someone around offering me TLC (even if it includes preventative measures).