July 19, 2010

Nate's working so I'm thinking (and cleaning.)

This two-bedroom apartment has been our home for 2 years and 10 months. Tonight while I'm cleaning for our birthday week celebrations I've been thinking over everything that has occurred within these stark white walls.

The first day we moved in there were soccer games all day long at the park behind us. On such a warm day we flung open the windows and peals of laughter floated on the autumn breeze and filled the cluttered living room. Tonight the lights are off at the baseball diamond and the only sounds are the dishwasher, washing machine and James Taylor singing on Pandora.

I love this little place. Unlike our first apartment it has truly been home. In one of my favorite books from growing up: "Anne's House of Dreams" (Of the Anne of Green Gables series) there is a quote that has stuck with me since I was 10 years old. "I heard an old minister say that a house was not a real home until it had been consecrated by a birth, a wedding and a death." In the almost three years we have lived in this home we have enjoyed wonderful babies of friends crawling and toddling around our living room (not to mention our adorable niece.) We have witnessed good friends go from dating to engaged to married. This apartment has soaked up the sweet laughter of friends over many a table of food, savoring the conversation. It also has silently listened to our tears and observed death occurring within its walls, twice. Two expectant summers have come and gone in this apartment and tonight it is still just the two of us who rest our heads here.

Tomorrow I turn 26 years old and on Sunday, Nate will follow. We are now officially in our "late twenties." By this time in my life, I expected to be a mother, but God obviously has different plans for the timing of such a gift. I could easily fall into self-pity over yet another summer coming and going without a baby to see and hold, but when I look around out living room I am so overwhelmed with joy there is barely any room for sadness.

I see our "new to us" dining table that every other Monday anywhere from 4-12 of our friends come in that front door laden with food and drink to spend time around. I am sitting on a couch that has welcomed several people as overnight guests. Our cork collection is overflowing its glass bowl and with each cork there has to be a story of the night that wine was consumed. I see the flickering remains of the sunset to the west and I thank God for allowing us to live in such a wonderful location. Beautiful flowers from my mum's garden adorn the coffee table and I am astonished yet again that Mum and Dad live just a ferry ride away.

Some days I hate these walls for being stark white, but I just need to stop and remember how marvelous white can be. They have been a bare canvas for a very full, challenging and glorious few years in this home.

June 23, 2010

Maybe I should blog more.

Sometimes when I am in "a mood" as I say, Nate doesn't exactly know what to do with me. I blaze through the apartment a ball of nervous energy unable to express precisely what is going on inside my head. After such a night earlier this week I tried to blame the grey skies, a difficult day at work and even the fact that we are not having a baby next month like we expected. Nice try, but that doesn't cut it. None of those excuse the lack of self-control I exhibited. Proverbs 25:24 says "It is better to live in a corner of the housetop than in a house shared with a quarrelsome wife." I fear my poor husband was looking out at the balcony, considering whether he could make his bed out there for the night. By allowing my emotions to take control over my actions and my words I basically spit in Nate's face. I didn't stop to consider how sharp my words and actions were.


Self-control is not one of my strong traits, in fact I may conjecture that lack of self-control is one of my most prominent attributes. As a child, teenager and even young adult I would say what I thought when I thought it and often very loudly. I was never patient to wait for anything. When I was eleven I couldn't wait to be a teenager like my siblings, once I was a teenager I couldn't wait to be an adult and "independent." Once Nate and I started dating I was counting down the days to be his wife and now that we are eager to become parents I get extremely frustrated that I once again have to wait. My heart selfishly demands instant gratification.


Not to downplay the difficulty of this season of life, but these situations are no excuse to allow myself to go "bat-shit insane" as my wonderfully tactful husband puts it. Talking with my more mellow sister (ok, maybe not more mellow in general, we do share the same genes you know, but at least she was calmer and wiser than I on Monday.) I realized that I should be and can be thankful for all the wonderful blessings I have. I have a job that allows us to pay down bills and save money, we have a cute little apartment in the best neighborhood in Seattle (in my humble opinion), and I truly have the most patient and loving man as my husband.


One of the attributes I know I need to prayerfully consider and strive for is this foreign concept of self-control, patience or whatever you may choose to call it. We may not be having a child next week or even for another year or so for that matter, my job may be draining and the sun may never shine again in Seattle, but Jesus is in control. As a wife my prayer is to never again make my husband wish for a comfortable bed on the roof.


"For this very reason, (v.3 "His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness") make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control and steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness and godliness with brotherly affection, and brother affection with love." 2 Peter 1:5-7