Rothschild, the s is for swag
I think his goal in life is to become the definition of quirky.
I mean, if you don’t have sun glasses, why not wear tanning goggles?
Every outing is a recipe for public humiliation. Despite pleading, beat-red embarassed faces, & buried heads, I am constantly {& relunctantly} pulled out of my safe comfort zone of… ” being normal.”
When Clayton and I are at Walmart, he finds it just hilarious {to him} to venture a few aisles over, pretend to be panicked and lost, and shout “Caroline! Where are you? Help, Caroline!”
Today he upped his strategy by unbuttoning his shirt, wearing his sunglasses inside, and… if only I could capture his ridiculous strut in a picture you would understand why…
for a shy “I’d-rather-blend-in-at-Walmart” type, I want to die.
In pre-martial cousneling we learned that your body regenerates itself every 7 years, which explains why some couples begin to favor one another after spending so much time together.
I have 4 days
{4 days!!}
to come to terms with the fact I’m marrying the quirkiest of all quirky
& I will likely become {even more} so myself.
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Comment“Today We ‘Avenge’ Professor Chaos”
Today:
Clayton patiently {while I frantically} searched for my purse and called the place I was sureee it was hiding, just to find it right where I left it… in my car {with the wedding bands inside}.
We’ve been on a mad hunt for 5 matching ties for our ushers, and just in case you need 5 of anything… stores don’t carry them.
I’ve been making to-do lists like it’s my job.
3 hours of dance lessons with my dad and Clay. We’re slowly learning my turns and slow, quick quick, slows. I’m also getting to know my men all the more. While focusing my dad stares over my right shoulder mumbling and I remind him to keep his tongue in his mouth. Clayton holds “eyecontact” but he’s so focused he’s not really seeing anything. It’s this blank stare but pleasant all in one.
Regardless, any dad and fiance that takes dance lessons is a 10 in my book.
It’s 1:30 a.m. and Clayton is working on a special “letter” the wedding guests are going to drop in our mailbox at the reception {one of my favorite projects for the wedding}. Clayton just found out I was blogging and groaned. When he’s productive, I can relax, right?
Today is one of those days where if I forgot my name, I probably wouldn’t notice.
{Chaos, much?}
These pictures were just before dinner & one of those nice breaks amidst chaos. It was a reminder that it’s ok to be busy… if busy makes time for calm.
If we’re always busy, there’s no point to being busy.
Rush around, manage the chaos, search for the purse, but let it not be a lifestyle; as my nerd fiance would say, may chaos not become our “modus operandii.”
{P.S. nerd fiance also came up with the title. Something about comic books? or something.}
What reward awaits you as you journey through the chaos?
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Home Sweet Missouri
Every time I come home from Texas, my dad hangs a sign in the yard and shines this ridiculous spotlight on it. Sometimes the sign hangs from the roof, & other times it will sit in a tree or be propped up on the landscaping. Regardless of where it is, the spotlight demands attention. My mom says people drive by and stare like our house is an impressive Christmas lights display.
No, dear strangers, we’re not a display. We just have a quirky, endearing father.
…An endearing father that makes coming home… home… Even when I’m 23 & been gone for 5 years.
Every passerby knows we’re going to the chapel now, but do I?
7 days, really?
{Pinch me, please}
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Blessed Instead of Stressed
I showed Clayton I posted his photo; "I look way less cool than I thought. Dang."
Clayton and I spent most of Saturday at our church’s community garage sale.
{I have the sunglasses suntan line to prove!}
The garage sale was PERFECT timing for our move. We piled up my car and sold everything we could and then gave away everything left on our table.
sitting in the sun I had a lot on my mind.
THINGS
initially cost hard-earned money.
we have fun with them for a while
and then they can be stress.
need to be organized.
can break.
can shrink.
shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
I’m always loading, unloading, loading.
but, THINGS
can also bless.
This morning pretty Lulu walked into the Sunday school with my dress on.
She’s wearing the necklace my sister brought me from Mexico years ago and the bracelet I bought in Costa Rica.
my junk became a treasure to me when it became a treasure to her.
These things meant nothing, until I saw the joy on her face.
when we wisely loosen our grip on things,
they can BLESS.
not stress.
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CommentWelcome the Sweat
One of my least favorite things to do is to move.
I’m one of those slow decorators that doesn’t fully settle in before it’s time to move ahead. In the past 5 years, I’ve moved 4 times, and there’s always a few days between each move that I feel homeless.
I grunt, sweat, and complain about packing.
As if I were going to get away with complaining about my 1st world problem,
I see this:
To move my belongings requires boxes, because I can’t carry them over my shoulder… like so many.
To move my belongings requires sweat, because I have an abundance… unlike so many.
Though after our wedding Clayton and I may live in a hotel until our lease starts, we’re not really homeless. We just have to wait a few days.
I complain because I have work to care for my blessings. <– {pathetic}
Come on, Caroline. May a grateful heart squelch the complaints, welcome the sweat, and produce an ever-giving heart lent on charity.
{And, may I cling to this perspective as Clayton and I move 4 times in our first 15 months of marriage! Challenge Accepted.}
What burdens do you perceive in your life that are actually blessings in disguise? Daily annoyance of homework? Questions from little ones? Commute to a job?
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Comment{Monday} Musing
{found here}
em·brace/emˈbrās/
synonyms: verb. hug- clasp- include- comprise- enfold- encompass
for some of you, the current season of life is finals. I’m not sure how you can “hug” your tests, but I guarantee you’re going to someday look back & fondly remember finals as the time you went on more spontaneous adventures than actual studying and guzzled more coffee than water. You will one day call yourself hardcore and brag about not sleeping. Psha.
for some of you, the current season of life is a new precious baby. I’m thinking of you, Sasha! You no doubt understand how to “hug” the moments of sleeping Collin in your arms, even though he probably kept you up all night & there are days you don’t know how you will make it.
for almost everyone, spring represents transition.
New jobs, new homes, new schedule, new wardrobe (& white legs), even just new… weather.
Embrace.
Hug. it. in.
I’m hugging in engagement even though it’s so easy to dwell solely the wedding. 19 more days of eating the same meal everyday (Clayton isn’t game for a diet of eggs) & listening to country music non-stop.
What are you hugging in this season?
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{Sunday} 1
Happy Sunday.
Throughout undergrad, Sundays meant the day I would take a nap and not set an alarm. It’s such a wonderful feeling to know you don’t have to wake up until you’re fully rested.
Every season brings a new meaning to Sunday.
Sabbath reinvents itself but spells rest in a way every exhausting week needs to read.
Sometimes Sabbath means reading a book, running, or even… blogging.
Today, Sabbath means processing.
Church this morning was somewhat of an awakening. Our pastor shared about freedom from shame– shame that we all have whether we say it or not. It was raw.
I could feel the veils of hidden regrets fall. For one of the first times in church, it seemed like everyone was ok with admitting we are all struggling, failing, but redeemed humans.
Afterward we walked outside to a fight right outside our doors and five police cars pulled before we made it to our “Sunday lunch.”
It was a reminder that Sunday morning we proclaim freedom and joy and redemption,
but we need to pray for freedom and joy and redemption… constantly.
There’s a tension between the peace I feel within church,
singing as a community, and claiming truth
&
the pain that sits right outside the door.
the pain that begins at 12:01 as soon as our worshipping body splits for the day.
I’m not sure what to do with this tension, but I’m acknowledging it.
I acknowledge it amidst my perfect little Sunday with my outrageously expensive coffee in hand.
I acknowledge there’s a pain that worshipping on Sunday morning doesn’t fix.
I acknowledge that this is sometimes confusing,
but I acknowledge that Christ is Hope and I will choose Christ over and over and over again.
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CommentHey There
In a matter of days I'm going to marry my college sweetheart Clayton. I'll be the resident chaplain at a girls dormitory this year... which will add a few quirks to our first year of marriage. I've been adopted into Texas culture and I keep Sonic in business. I blog about faith and the struggles with faith. My first name is Jane; I'm Caroline.
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To my single friends, I just posted a cute picture of Clayton and I on Facebook. 10 minutes later we were sitting in my driveway talking about how his stress was overwhelming me and how he was stressed because I was overwhelmed. Dumb. […]
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