One of my married friends told me the other day,
enjoy all of the attention from engagement, because once you’re married, people don’t notice anymore.
Ouch, but I think she’s right. Right now friends of friends notice my ring; cashiers compliment; facebook friends who haven’t thought of me in years congratulate.

This past week Clayton and I have been working so hard to dig the roots of our relationship deep down into the foundation of the Lord– into commitment, unity, & trust. It’s been downright fun to feel so close to my best friend amidst one of the more tough seasons for us.
I know that the joy (and no doubt infatuation) comes from the work we’re pouring in to us– not the mere fact I’m wearing a ring. Recognizing the correspondence of work and joy is essential to not letting our months of engagement define our joy, because soon they’ll be over.
Work– the tough conversations, the honesty, the selflessness– is the prerequisite for joy and contentment with each other. I pray I never lose sight.
Engagement is a sprint of wedding planning, color-picking, invitation-stressing and house choosing.
Marriage is a marathon we must begin training for now.
I have a tough week ahead of me.
Finals, projects, work… LIFE.
…and I’m overwhelmed. It seems like facing the mountain of tomorrow is daunting, inaction is threatening me, and looking to yesterday is yet another mountain.
If I’m not careful, I become stuck.
This evening I was reading Isaiah and my spirit was lifted by the precious love of our Lord. My focus shifted from the unbearable height and ruggedness of the mountains to the God who created the mountains and carries me over them. Hopefully these verses will encourage you like they did me.
Listen to me, the LORD. Since the day you were born, I have carried you along. I will still be the same when you are old and gray, and I will take care of you. I created you. I will carry you and always keep you safe.
I love the picture of God as both my thoughtful creator and the One who never stepped away from creation. He’ll carry me until I’m old, and therefore I know he can carry me through this week.
Regardless of the mountain, God has carried you and will carry you.
Prayer for this week: may the mountains turn our eyes to the One who will carry us– not to the cliffs, the height, and the obstacles. May we trust the Lord who is waiting to carry.
Be encouraged, dear friends.
We say thank you constantly.
Thank you to our waitress.
Thank you for the green light.
Thank you for dinner.
Thank you for the compliment.
Thank you for not littering.
Thank you for not smoking.
Thank you for your patience.
On and on and on…

We are “thank you” people,
but are we gratefully thankful people, standing in awe of how downright blessed we are??
Thankful: Conscious of benefit received.
Sounds a lot like acknowledging grace.
This morning I ran the Turkey Trot 5K with Clayton, waited in a 12 car line at Starbucks (& drank away the calories burned with a Peppermint Mocha), and then sat around the table with my favorite people at my grandparents’ house. I treasure this time with family– my grandmother teaching me her art of making gravy, my brothers’ pranks, and my dad’s inability to say no to pie. It is a gratefulness from the heart.
What makes your heart thankful?
In order to get back to Missouri to meet out-of-town cousins, I left Texas at the ungodly hour of 4 a.m.
I suffered but pushed onward. I knew if I could make it to sunrise, I-35N wouldn’t seem near as daunting.
7 a.m. came, but darkness was still holding its hand. There was a looming darkness that covered the road, and I longed for the sun.
Then something happened I’ve never experienced. In the blink of an eye, darkness retreated. What was a depressing, lingering darkness was replaced with a shining hopeful light.

I looked behind me and saw the culprit of darkness—a heavy, dense fog that hovered low to the ground. The fog was so overpowering I had missed that the sun had risen while I was waiting.
For the remainder of the morning I drove in and out of the fog. Yet since I knew the sun shone, it was easier to endure the momentary darkness.
My perspective on God is much like driving in fog.
Sometimes when I don’t see God, I become weary. I assume darkness because all light is clouded by fog.
Other times I discern I’m in a season of fog. While I wait for the fog to lift I know that the sun is shining and I will see it soon.
When we don’t acknowledge the fog, we can feel hopeless.
When we do acknowledge the fog, we know that there is light amidst the apparent darkness.
The sun always rises.
always. while fog may cover our perspective, know with confidence that the light is shining.
we can rest well tonight knowing the sun will rise.
While behind the fog, remember there’s no darkness that God’s light does not reach.
Even the darkness is not dark to You,
And the night is as bright as the day.
Darkness and light are alike to You.
Psalm 139:12
I’m getting married in 6 months, which understandably discredits myself on anything I write about singleness. Alas, please hear me.
I’m marrying my best friend. I have a diamond on my finger. I’m planning a wedding. I’m doing all of the things every girl dreams of—or at least is told to dream of—but I still wrestle with the same things as I did before.
When I was writing my proposal story yesterday I was hesitant to hit “publish” because of how downright sappy it was. It seemed fairytale-ish. Now don’t get me wrong, that moment when I said YES was. It was perfect.
Hitting publish was difficult because I knew I wasn’t telling the whole story.
What I don’t blog about often and what we don’t usually see in cute Facebook profile pictures and certainly not in the movies is how dating someone, being engaged to someone, or even marrying someone doesn’t “fix us.”
Having a him does not take away loneliness.
I have a him, and I dare to say at times it makes me lonelier.
We imagine that when we find the perfect guy, our every need will be met and we’ll always feel loved. Even though I know Clayton is the perfect guy for me, my every need is not met by him. It cannot be. He loves me well. so very well. Yet, I don’t always feel loved.
Knowing I have a loving fiancé yet still wrestle with feelings of being unloved, underappreciated, and unnoticed perpetuates loneliness. There’s a feeling of hopelessness because I have what I thought I needed—my him—but I can still be a mess.
We think having him fixes us. Heals us. Makes us whole. For my friends wrestling with singleness, having a him seems like the solution. Him becomes the focus of desire and an anxiousness builds. Anticipation.
Yet, when we finally get our him, and he’s not God as we expected him to be, we feel trapped. Let down. And perhaps even more desperate.
Our him cannot be God, because only God is God. God created us for companionship with one another, yes, but He primarily created us to be in relationship with Himself—to find our value in Christ.
Our longing to feel loved, appreciated, noticed, important, special can only come from Christ. Our longing for those things is a longing for God.
Friends, if you’re waiting on your him, I plead with you to know that your future him is not the answer to feeling whole. Clayton is great, but it is Christ who fulfills. When I lose sight of this truth, I get frustrated with Clayton, get down on myself, and end up deflated. Become full in Christ while you wait, because him or no him, we are in desperate need of Christ.
It is only when our spiritual needs are fully met that we can look at our him and see a partner in the pursuit of Christ instead of the answer to the God-sized love we were created to need from God.
God is a God of love. He’s ready to love, ready to fulfill, ready to make us whole. When we are consumed by waiting for a him or asking our him to be God, we miss God.
Single, married, or engaged. We have the same needs, and God is ready to meet them. Today. It’s not only a singleness issue, it’s a human issue. I’m learning with you.
Why do you think we grow up thinking a “him” is our answer?