The Courage to Start Again

The wedding plans have now subsided and the rhythm of life with Benjamin feels a rooted sense of constancy and stability that comes with each day alongside your forever person. Because I know life only seems to get busier, I realize there’s no perfect time to uncover what remains of that silly master’s thesis of mine (that tiny last piece of my diploma that got tossed to the wayside when I accepted a teaching job in San Diego, packed up my car and said goodbye to Chicago, fell in love with B, transitioned to a new job, got engaged, then planned a wedding… Oops.)

Despite the few years between when I finished coursework at Wheaton and now, I feel that there’s no better time than this to re-open myself to the world of pilgrimage. It has, in fact, been a pilgrimage to write this lingering paper. Ben – in his supportive and encouraging ways – has selflessly volunteered to play basketball on Tuesday nights so that I can have time and space to write and finish. When I tried to convince him that I can in fact focus when he’s there, he reminded me of the many times I have articulated the same thing, which resulted in snuggling him and taking a nap. To his credit, he’s right.

After taking a break from the voices interacting in my Review of Literature, it feels like a homecoming in a way to return to it. I would like to use this paper as a catalyst to a book brewing in the recesses of my mind someday… and it feels exciting to re-enter this world that I have deserted for so long.

With fresh eyes, I am taking the next best step to finish… Gathering up resources from PLNU library (very thankful to have access to it!), and starting on an outline for the application of my thesis to a context (pilgrimage route). What has paralyzed me in the past is questioning what I have to offer this world… What unique words and experiences do I truly bring to a topic of so much history? I wrestle with these questions and realize it’s not the point. Taking the next best step is – and it is always worth it.

Last Night With The Italians

Upon hearing our most beloved Buona Forchetta was opening a Liberty Station location, we were immediately calendaring the opening and planning to go on Wednesday. That is, until Suzy texted me with the “name on the list” soft opening invite on Monday. Since I was already working an Info event at Liberty Station (plus drooling over google images of pizza), it worked out perfectly to go.

We arrived after my event – walking in during that perfect window of time where the fringe friends clear out, leaving the extended Italian family who seem like they flew directly from the shores of Sicily with gelato and bottles of vino. We stepped into a scene that could be based in Rome – pizzas slung out of the oven within minutes; slices of mozzarella and ciabatta perched up on corners of the room, served with greetings of kisses on the cheeks and exchanged “gratzies” reverberating through hugs within circles of slicked hair and long suit coats; risotto dished up on plates with fresh meatballs adorning the top, children creeping in between adults and given priority for being second cousins of the owner. I attempted to vibe my 25% Italian heritage and reciting of “mangia mangia!” in valiant effort to chameleon with the locals, but when Ben was met with a scowl after ordering an Old Fashioned at the bar; it quickly gave us away. This is Chianti country, after all.

We helped ourselves to seconds and thirds and fourths of chocolate coated ricotta cream puffs intermixed with lingering pepperoni pizza slices and three-cheese pasta dishes. We left our glimpse of Italy with bellies full and hearts content and even more determination to get there someday soon.  

Don't Want to Forget

I have lived in a world this past week of fleeting moments that are filled to the brim with such gratitude that I want to bottle them up and store them forever in that “Don’t Ever Forget” part of my brain. Even without storing them, I know these will always remain from the best day of my entire life.

Moments such as your best girlfriends flying across the country, arriving to your doorstep with hugs and peonies and dark chocolate and letters of love; creating sacred space at our rehearsal dinner for edifying words, flowing wine, and a room full of your 50 most favorite people; waking up with such joy and a brand-new-never-thought-of-before thought: “it’s my wedding day today;” prayer and coffee and a deep sense of feeling like you’re watching a movie and living a future dream of your life that never felt like it could come true; cameras pointed at me because I’m not the bridesmaid, but the bride; knees shaking with complete excitement to meet my groom in a garden; eyes welling up with tears as I hugged my mom and realized that it’s my wedding day; seeing Ben for the first time, radiant love too hard to contain; waiting in the back of the garden, watching Ben over the wall and hearing the harmonies of “Be Thou My Vision” fall amidst the most intimate garden; rainfall and umbrellas over exchanged vows; glimpses at my best girls standing beside me at the altar just as they do in life; celebrating having a husband, being a wife, and the rush of emotion that comes with those titles; running off to the beach to steal a few hues of sunset and some kisses with my now husband; a white wedding skirt covered in mud throughout the entirety of the evening and not caring at all; announcement as husband and wife to a candlelit tent of friends not strangers; dinner and toasts and ice-cream cookies and cake cutting and dancing and hugs and suddenly it’s our last song and we’re running away from our wedding… everything feeling way too short and that it’s an impossible task to truly savor it all.

A wedding – the most joyful celebration of us coming together as one. I can honestly say I have never been happier in my entire life than in these moments. And I can’t imagine it being any different – God had the day planned out from beginning to end, rain and all. The lighting, the friends, the joy, the smiles. It’s all His. My prayer is that He would be Our Vision… in the good and the difficult…. that it would be Him others see, and not us. I pray that we would minister to others better together than apart, and that He would use us to not only love one another well, but love others well with His love. That God would do His work through us – that’s what it’s all about. That’s what a wedding is about – and now we have the rest of our lives to do that very thing together. I can’t imagine life without Benjamin by my side and now we return to real life together. I don’t care if I’m still honeymooning over here – I will honeymoon as long as I possibly can… you only get one.

Also: a link to