29 | 200 The Unexpected

Today is the 200th day of my 29th year, and I didn't expect it to be the day that you walked through the gates of Glory. I know that your radiance on earth was just a shadow to your radiance now -- I can imagine your blonde hair is now a fiery halo of gold and your beautiful blue eyes now blaze with the presence of the Christ. Your outward earthly beauty was very real and I know your eternal beauty must be breathtaking; I can't wait to see you reflecting the glory of God on those streets of gold, glowingly ensconced in the absolute reality of Christ's ever-present love and fulfillment of redemption. 

You were one of the few people that shared my affinity for direct declarations of love. You weren't shy to grab me by the arm and look me right in the eyes and tell me how much you loved me and how much you liked me. Not everyone in this world is comfortable with such frank statements of affection and appreciation. I was happy to find a kindred spirit in you, and the last time I saw you we spent a few minutes speaking those words of love and life into each other as a benediction and farewell. I thought it would just be a matter of distance between us, not life and death; I am more thankful now that we shared those moments together. You initiated them. I appreciated that then -- even more so today. 

My memories of you will always be of your fun and spontaneous spirit. Always up for a good time, always initiating some form of fun. Your easy way of giving and serving, your devotion to the generation behind you, your willingness to connect in real relationship. Your love for Jesus and for serving Him, whether at home or in Asheville, your home away from home. You were always willing to step up and help. You maintained positivity and enthusiasm. You were down-to-earth in admitting your struggles and fun to commiserate with when our struggles found a connection. I love that you loved Highland and chose to serve there, twice. I love that you loved your family deeply. I love that you loved your church family deeply. 

You helped coordinate my wedding. You prayed with me, exercised with me, watched TV with me, shared meals with me, shared your convictions with me, encouraged me, laughed at me and laughed with me. 

I am sorry for the pain of those that are left to walk on this earth without you. Your absence will leave a hole that is unique to your presence and spirit, and the hole will remain, though the pain in time will lose some of it's sting. We grieve losing you. And paradoxically rejoice knowing you are waiting ahead around the bend, cheering us on toward our finish. The juxtaposition of suffering and hope is a deep bittersweet ache in our hearts. Your passage into life eternal is a beacon to all of us who mourn, urging us to recenter our souls on the everlasting and not the temporal; to sow that which we may reap in eternity, namely, love into the lives of those around us. You did it so well. The legacy you leave us is a life of love, loyalty, and friendship. 

Sweet Brittney, I think you would be proud to know the example you have set before us. Enjoy the banquet table, friend. I can't wait to catch up with you there. 

29 | 199 The Past Ten Years

In the past ten years, we... (in no particular order)

Met and fell in love. I love that our meet cute was on Spring Break in Cashiers.

Went to Nicaragua (me). Went to India (you). Went to the UK (me). 

Pretended to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Became boyfriend and girlfriend.

Dated long-distance. 

Went to the emergency room twice. It was me both times. 

Someone did call 911 for you, though.

Saw my apartment burn down.

Got married.

Had a son.

Had a daughter.

Graduated from college.

Lived in a basement. Lived in a condo. Lived in a house on the market. Lived with my parents.

Have had seven vehicles between us. I hope this new one will last us ten years.

Have hiked the Himalayas (take me someday) and the Blue Ridge.

Both swam in the Pacific Ocean, but in different countries. 

Performed in a musical.

Worked in a vineyard.

Worked at Biltmore.

Worked at the same hospital.

Have worked at sixteen different jobs between the two of us.

Took the bus to work. 

Went to more weddings than funerals.

Moved from Florida to North Carolina and back (never say never).

Participated in the Invisible Children Global Night Commute. 

Camped in Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina.

Visited 20 states between the two of us. You went on an epic road trip across the US. I visited Wisconsin, Colorado, Missouri, Kansas, Illinois, and New York for the first time.

Had long and short hair.

Picked blueberries, strawberries, apples, and St. John's Wort. 

Went spelunking, river rapid riding (on purpose in the summer and by accident in the winter), waterfall sliding, zip-lining, tubing, sailing, kayaking, lake and ocean and swimming hole swimming many times.

Were vegetarian. 

Went Paleo.

Were in the best shape of our lives.

Were in the worst shape of our lives.

Lost our virginity.

Visited Sea World, Universal Studios, Busch Gardens, and Disney.

Were CrossFit fanatics.

Ran in races.

Got a motorcycle license (you) and a commercial license (me).

Grew a garden.

Have worn Reefs and Rainbows and Chacos and Keens and Vibrams. Shoes covered in sand and shoes covered in snow.

Slow danced under the stars and in the kitchen, and showed off swing dance moves at wedding receptions and on street corners, and salsa danced in clubs and at restaurants. 

Bought food at grocery stores, farmer's markets, straight from the farm, at restaurants, online, and from street vendors and food trucks. 

House-sat, dog-sat, and baby-sat.

Have seen our families woven together in a beautiful way. And we both added a brother-in-law and a nephew to the mix, too.

Made wonderful, lifetime-long friendships.

Turned our parents into grandparents.

Were deeply rooted in a faith community that nourished and nurtured us as we grew and matured. 

So you see, sometimes it feels different than it actually is. And it may be flying by, but look how full it is, how rich it is. Also, in writing this, I realized: we need to go surfing.

I love you. 

29 | 196 A Comedy of Errors

Today turned out to be a comedy of errors. 

The Plan:
Pick up a rental car; drive to Plant City to meet friends at the Strawberry Festival by 11:00 a.m.; check out the Brandon Honda dealership in the late afternoon, where we had it on good authority that there might be a Honda Pilot in our price range; eat at my all-time favorite pizza restaurant, Babe's; drive home tired and happy. 

How It Went:
On our way to pick up the rental car, we happened across a recent car accident which had scattered serious debris across the roadway. Unable to come to a complete stop before running over said debris, the back driver's-side tire of our car was ripped to shreds and immediately went flat, leaving us in the middle of a three-lane roadway during rush-hour traffic. We took the kids out of the car and put them on the sidewalk and Josh pulled into the nearest driveway off the main road. It was someone's fancy private residence complete with lampposts lining the driveway and Greek statues adorning the palm-dotted lawn. 

Meanwhile, I have to go to the bathroom.

It turns out our vehicle did not have the proper tools inside to change the tire, so I call Enterprise to come pick me and the kids up so we could go get the rental. Joshua walks over to the accident scene that caused our flat, hoping for some sort of assistance from the policemen working the scene or perhaps some tools to work with. The officer is rude and dismissive. Joshua calls a towing company to tow the car home, where he has the proper tools to put on the spare. Joshua is harangued on the phone by the tow truck company owner about not having a tire iron or wrench. The home owner whose single-lane driveway we are blocking makes an appearance via the garage on his bicycle, headed to Anytime Fitness for a workout, he informs us. He did not seem to mind the intrusion on his private property, but didn't think to ask how he could help, which would've been nice since all Josh needed was a ratchet.

The Enterprise guy arrives over an hour later to take me and the kids to the rental agency to get our car. Aidan has a dirty diaper in the back seat and is talking to Mr. Don (the driver) incessantly about our "fat tire." Enterprise is slammed with too few employees in the office. I wait a half hour with the kids before it's our turn at the counter. Meanwhile, the tow company arrives back where our car is broken down but the driver is very overweight and unable to assist Joshua. Joshua helps himself to the driver's tools and changes the tire. However, now the tow truck will not start, and our car is blocked in the driveway, even though the tire is now changed. 

Eventually, I rendezvous with Joshua and I finally get to a bathroom. Thank God. 

We stopped by Chick-fil-A for lunch on our way out of town, where they forgot to give us Aidan's kids meal until I reminded them right before leaving the drive-thru. Five minutes down the road we realize they also shorted us an order of fries. Joshua and I valiantly share one order of fries. This is a sacrifice on both our parts. 

We make it to Plant City, but while following the signs directing us to the festival grounds, the road is cordoned off by police officers and we have to find an alternate route. We arrive at the Strawberry Festival six hours after leaving the house that morning. 

After two hours at the festival, we leave to get to the Honda dealership for a 5:30 appointment that Joshua made with a salesman. On the way there we are starving and I spot a Steak n' Shake, so I cut across three lanes of traffic to turn into the drive-thru for a milkshake. The drive-thru has a large cone in the middle of the lane, indicating it is out of order.

Joshua had confirmed his appointment with a specific person at the Honda dealership on the way over to Brandon earlier that day. When we arrived at the dealership, Joshua is informed that the person he spoke with isn't even working today. Also, there are no Pilots in our price range, despite a previous phone conversation that led to today's appointment. 

We drive back to Babe's for dinner. When we arrive the sign on the door says -- you guessed it-- Closed Mondays. 

Like I said, comedy of errors. Probably enough to have put us in a bad mood. But instead, I am happy to report: 

We weren't in an accident where any of us got hurt. There was no major damage sustained to the vehicle, other than the blown tire. There was a sidewalk along that busy roadway, so we were able to get our kids out of the vehicle and safely out of the way. The morning wasn't too hot, so it was not uncomfortable to be waiting outside for two hours. We had plenty of snacks prepared for the day, and more than enough bottled water. I took the opportunity to pray with Aidan, asking God to send the rental car quickly when it had been 45 minutes since they were supposed to arrive -- it arrived within five minutes. Enterprise let us rent the car that Mr. Don picked us up in, so I did not have to re-install car seats in a busy shopping center parking lot off U.S. 19 while trying to wrangle a very active and car-loving toddler. The tow truck driver did not charge Joshua for the use of his tools. Thankfully, the driver was able to move his truck to the side of the driveway so that Joshua could leave. It was a stunningly gorgeous day for a car ride. Our rental car had a USB port that let us use our iPhones to listen to our music and my This American Life app so we could listen to amusing stories, and it had a really great air conditioner. The Kennedys were still at the Strawberry Festival when we got there and we spent two hours together letting Aidan and Daisy have a ton of fun, riding kiddie rides together and getting their faces painted and jumping up and down and giving lots of hugs. We had plenty of bottled water with us for the heat of the day and sunscreen to keep the kids from getting burnt. We got a half-flat of fresh strawberries from Parksdale Farms for less than $5.00 -- can you say strawberry shortcake? I got the cutest photos of Aidan and Maddie eating strawberries. We prayed before we got to the Honda dealership that if this wasn't where God had a vehicle for us, Joshua wouldn't waste a lot of time there. He was back at the car within ten minutes. We were able to try a new restaurant for dinner. The Kennedys joined us, and instead of doing a magic act to cram into one booth at Babe's, we had the luxury of a giant corner booth and a kid-friendly restaurant that brought the kids dough to play with, and we got to enjoy an hour and a half sharing a meal with our friends. We drove home tired and happy. 

First-world problems, right? Yes, but they're are still bothersome when you live in a first-world scenario. However, today we were really determined not to let irritation get the best of us. It's so easy to get sucked into spiraling negativity. Recently, we watched the pilot of Parks and Rec on Netflix and there's this scene where Leslie gets a phone call from an irate citizen about her park building project, who says, "Hey Park Lady, blah, blah, blah, terribly insulting stuff, blah, blah, blah..." Leslie hangs up the phone and looks at the camera and says with a smile, "Did you hear that? He just called me Park Lady!" Josh and I love that scene because it is such a ridiculously determined bent toward the positive in a blatantly negative situation. I think it's a great paradigm to operate in. Why not?