From Judy Jetson to ... What goes beyond the Jetsons?

When Jon and I were engaged, skype became the space-aged portal through which we grew our relationship.  Just like Judy Jetson!  (For a more detailed explanation of marriage-prep-via-skype click HERE)

This time around, which happens to be 2 years and 2 iPhones later, it appears that FaceTime is our new and convenient portal for relational maintenance.  Usually Jon and I FaceTime (this is now a verb?) from our respectives dwellings: me in our house and Jon in his room.  Imagine my surprise last night when I answered his call and was met with bobbing shoulders and a work out towel.

THIS.WAS.HILARIOUS.  Newest time to chit chat? During Jon's 40 minute run on the treadmill.

As technology advances, we all win!  Well, at least military families win.

Come, Please I'm Desperate!

I needed to read THIS this morning. 
Thank you, Elizabeth Turnage.

Oh Emmanuel, you with your ways and kindness and sometimes so sneaky.  How often I ignore you and your promise that You.Are.Actually.Present.  (Sigh)  What relief.  Thank you that I do not walk alone.  Thank you that in every difficult decision and in all my self-doubt, as I scramble, you come and you wait for me.

And so, come Emmanuel, for goodness sake, come!  We are both in need. (Me and the dog!)

The Truth of Christmas Past!

See, this is precisely the truth we lose in the advent of digital photography.  In the family holiday memory above Granddad's looking left.  Dad is distracted.  Mom looks a little haggard.  Bobby and Suzy have the deer-in-the-headlights look.  Uncle Joe is slouching after too much eggnog.  I love this. 


(Disclaimer: I don't actually know any of these people.  But I respect their honesty)

It's Cool to Be Kind

Kindness melts my defenses.

Nearly every time.

This week, given Jon’s departure, tears are not uncommon.  However, I have found if I am in ‘Go’ mode and keeping busy, those tears come less often.  Alright!

The kink in this plan is that I know a lot of nice people, and as usual they are being kind to me.  Almost as soon as a warm voice extends kindness to me I sort of dissolve and my voice squeaks while I am trying to speak evenly. HA! (Note: if you are one of said kind people leaving me voice mails, please keep leaving them!  I may not return these calls due to aforementioned reaction to kindness.  Do not be offended!  It's me, not you.)

Yesterday I read about complimentary military tickets for the Jax Symphony Holiday Pops concert.  (I have been wanting to go to this!)  I spoke with Bill at the JSO and learned that in order to qualify for the tickets, military families must accompany their active duty service members in uniform.  “Oh,” I responded.  And explained that Jon just left, but would I still be eligible for one ticket?  He refused.  Then proceeded to tell me there would be two complimentary tickets for me at will call because it was not acceptable for me to go alone.  I love Bill!

I hung up before he could hear the emotion rise in my voice and promptly had a grateful cry on the couch next to Annie.  (For questions concerning the identity of ‘Annie’, read here.)

In the time since I’ve been married to Jon I’ve sort of balked (though taken advantage of) ‘free’ and ‘discounted’ things offered occasionally to military simply because I have not felt deserving of any special treatment.  I still don’t believe I deserve it, but as a recipient, I am moved and encouraged by the kindness.  The thing about kindness is that no one HAS to do it.  We choose to be kind, and that’s what makes it powerful. 

I imagine Bill looks like this.  ---->

I realize this is Dave Thomas, founder of Wendy’s, but didn’t he always seem like the nicest, warm-hearted sir?

For a good perspective on a simple goal of kindness for the holidays, read Nina’s thoughts HERE.

Man I love The Polyphonic Spree.  What a bunch of enjoyable weirdos.  I watched them cover Happy Christmas tonight on Jay Leno.  Bring on the Christmas cheer, Polyphonic Spree!

They make me so happy.

"Go get 'em Honey! See ya in six!"

November 2012 was interesting.  A little bit pensive.  Our home experienced an undercurrent of "it's coming" in a way that felt heavy and apprehensive.  This resulted in lots of car tears.  You know, the tears that you've saved up to spend while your loved ones are elsewhere, but fellow commuters glimpse your smeared mascara and misshapen face in their rear view mirrors.  (It is in these moments that I always think, "Thank God no one can hear the oddball whimpering and gutteral throat sounds I'm making right now.")

All month we knew that Jon would leave for his first deployment the week after Thanksgiving.  

I knew this would be the first Thanksgiving I'd spend away from family.  The first Thanksgiving dinner I'd be responsible to host.  Thank you, Blue Fish, by the way for a lovely $28/pp Thanksgiving buffet.  Rave reviews all around.

It's interesting though, reflecting on this November, because when the thick emotional undercurrent rose to the surface, the call of military wife duty rang loud and clear.  This is the (perhaps false and self-imposed) pressure to smile if one feels otherwise, remember the good, and keep it together so that one's husband doesn't implode beneath the anvil of guilt threatening his spirits.  He knows he is leaving you 3 weeks before Christmas and won't return until June.  And he is a good man with a tender heart.

"It's 3:58am and I'm happy to be here."

Jon left this morning.  I am sad.  I am proud of him; for over two years he's trained for this moment.  Jon carries a strong desire for justice deep in his bones.  I respect him for this.  Also it makes me crazy.  For instance: while he is driving.  None honk their horn with more frequency or conviction.  Trust me.  But I am grateful for this man, for his yearning to make things right, to protect, to serve, to do his part.  And I am praying to join him in this conviction willingly.  To offer him up with open hands, standing with him shoulder to shoulder in heart and attitude.  I am grateful for this last week with him: intentionally building free time together, quickly forgetting the small things that can irritate.  Lots of laughter, honest talk, and shared purpose.

Just before Jon boarded he said goodbye to both of us. (Me and the huge zit on my chin)

 He is my 'other' and I am thrilled to walk life with him.  Walking life with him means walking a good bit of life with him in spirit rather than person.  'Military Wife' just about topped my list of "Things I Never Want to Be" for yeeeears.
That was before I met Jon.  Hilarious.  Life unfolds unexpectedly, and I find myself in circumstances I did not anticipate.  And I am OK here.  God acts in wisdom (and a good deal of mirth, I do believe).
And I trust Him.  And I am grateful.

"Go get 'em Honey!  See ya in six!"

Olympics. Yes Please.

Something about the romance of The Olympics sparks memories and inspires future aspirations of grandeur.  I find that recently being married offers the perfect opportunity to convince another of one's past athletic prowess.

Today two events have catapulted Jon Horne down Memory Lane and seem to be rekindling deep-seated passion for sport.

On table tennis
After regaling me with tales of childhood ping pong victories, he considers his deployment to Asia in December, "I'm gonna go crazy in Japan. I'm gonna bring my own paddle."

On volleyball, after I mentioned that I love seeing someone at the net surprise the defense with a soft lob rather than spike it:
J: "Oh I know.  You know what they used to call me?"
 [beat]
E: "What?"
J: "'Placement.'"

Another Reason to Love Jon Horne

Florida summers are blazing hot.  I mean, buh-lazing.  Our mailman delivers post on foot in the 'hood.  He is very cool and has big muscles.  In our eight months on Riverside Ave he has impressed and slightly intimidated us by his physical prowess and cool factor.  One day last week Jon saw him through the window, sweating profusely, and asked via body language if he would like water.  Picture Jon: hand motions + dramatically mouthing the word W-A-T-E-R.  "Yeah man," was his reply.  Jon Horne happily produced some monstrous black plastic cup (i.e. vat) of ice water for him.  In the excitement experienced after performing a good deed, JH declared he would daily provide hydration for our mailman.  And in turn, left this note taped to a personal cooler containing a bottle of water on our stoop the following day.  Incidentally our postal carrier's manners are intact, as we received a formal Thank You note this same day.

We now feel a personal connection to Vincent (turns out he has a name) and have begun to trade easy conversation with him.  Let me just tell you, mailmen know things.  And I think especially those on foot have a real understanding of what really goes on in the neighborhood.  There's some motivation to be good to yours.

Do you ever have those moments when each of your senses seem to pique simultaneously, you draw in breath and become overwhelmed with the notion that your life is very rich?

I had one of those moments last night.  My eyes welled with evidence of rising emotion and deep satisfaction.  I took in my surroundings enveloped by a haze of slow motion.  A deluge of thoughts flooded my awareness.

I found myself surrounded by unlikely, new friends on a perfect evening in St. Augustine, FL stilled by a magical light show which accompanied the band, Wilco as they performed on stage.  And I was overwhelmed....

by the warmth of God's goodness
by the unpredictable course of my life
by the fact I was there only by one's generosity and another's invitation
by my full belly and SweetWater Blue in hand

And I couldn't help but conclude that God is trustworthy, and He is good.


(More later because I cannot stop here.  Stay tuned.)

They Say Pets Resemble Their Owners

Jon told me about a conversation he had with Lyman today while he was over and petting our newest family member, Annie.  (For an explanation on our neighbor, Lyman, click HERE.)  It went like this...

Lyman:  "Every time I see Annie I think of Erin."

Jon:  "Why?"

Lyman:  "They look alike."

Jon, slightly taken aback:  "Are you saying Erin looks like our dog, Annie."

Lyman:  "Yeah."

Jon:  "Lyman, never tell a girl she looks like a dog."

There's a Reason Flo Rida sings Low

I hit a new personal low today. 

I said "F* you" to a coworker.  Nice.

(Sigh)

Sometimes you think you're so mature, and then you crash face first into a 2x4 of "yep, turns out I AM capable of that."  I think this is the second time in my life I've ever said this word-sequence to someone with whom I do not share a last name.  (First time probably occured on the high school soccer field.  Sorry, Coach Rose.)

I immediately felt terrible and heavy laden with the burden of "needing to apologize."  I followed him outside and with quick, feverish words made things right.  Also, I ate some crow.  After my confession and apology he said, "What?" *laughter* "I didn't even hear you say that."  To which I painfully and red-faced recounted the scenario then replied, "Well I said it.  Now you can be annoyed with me and move on."

Thankfully, I work mostly with college students in their early twenties.  This makes it a lot easier to recover from dropping an F Bomb on someone.  Meanwhile, maybe I need to have a quiet time?  Oy vey.  Thirty-one and miles from being a grown up.

Here's to Redemption

And evidence of this redemption narrative even in simple, non-spiritual moments.

Meet Annie.  (Hi Annie!)

Annie is the newest resident of 3688 Riverside.  She is proudly and gratefully brought to us by Great Rescue, a sweet little group that rescues abandoned Golden Retrievers.  We gather that some months ago Annie was found all alone in rural Florida living in an abandoned barn.  She was in really bad shape.  Since that time Great Rescue has provided her a foster home, medical care, and much-needed love.  Annie's vet estimates her to be 8-9 years old.  She is sweeeeet and eats up affection.  We plan to make Annie's geriatric years the best of her life.  Welcome Annie!  And Happy Easter.

(Note:  She may be old, but she is quicker than she looks.  Important to keep in mind if you are the dog-sitting type.)

Here's to Self Discovery

IN MARRIAGE.


An excerpt from a recent email to a dear old friend:

"Also sometimes I think I am very patient and wonderful and other times I am like, "jeez who let the narcissist in and why isn't jon horne catering to her every desire and reading her mind and putting the toilet seat down?"

Really love the guy.  REALLY glad to be his wife.

Here's to Things That Appear Impossible

And again he said, "To what shall I compare the kingdom of God? It is like leaven that a woman took and hid in three measures of flour, until it was all leavened."

Luke 13:20-21

So here I am thinking maybe we are the leaven, right?  Like, here I am, of the Kingdom of God - the leaven.  And if I am plunked down in the midst of a little community of people - the flour - who don't know the Lord, and I am there, just sort of doing my thing, being me (Christ in me the hope of Glory), doodling right along .... over time .... through conversation ... small acts of service ... maybe some humility (in my case this is unlikely) ...  listening ears ... accepting peoples' absurdities with a grin instead of an eye-roll ... not complaining (again, in my case unlikely) ... maybe this group of people - this flour - just may become leavened. 

Maybe.  

And with hope, definitely.

Matthew 11:12 forcefully advancing.  bring it.

Won't You Be My Neighbor?

We have this neighbor.  His name is Lyman.  We love him.  He's a 2nd-grader and an aspiring Navy SEAL.  Jon and Lyman walked up the street to meet Chloe (Lyman's teenage sister) and me for lunch today.  In typical fashion he was clad in full camo and with face paint, a gift from Jon a few weeks back.

 

Here are a few highlights from conversation with Lyman over the past 24 hours:

1)  "You two should have kids.  Are you trying?"

2)  To Jon:  "Your jaw is funny and your bottom lip is big."
Immediately, to me:  "How do you kiss him?"

3)  "What do you think of Obama?"

4)  At lunch playing with an army figurine, a quick head nod in my direction:  "I gotta admit it, you're good with kids."