What. In. The. World?

The world doesn’t revolve around my schedule? My beautifully laid out in pink sparkly ink schedule?! Hello?! What is the world thinking? Don’t they know my timing is best? Don’t they know I have everything penciled in at the exact time it needs to occur?

Yeah. 99% of the time, when planned events (which, in my life, getting a glass of water is scheduled. Along with how many caffeine-containing beverages I will have. And well, the rest isn’t going to be disclosed here.) don’t go my way, that’s how I act.

For a plan not to go my way seems unfair. I have carefully agonized and plotted and analyzed and that one piece not going the way it was supposed to affects all the rest of the pieces. For my logistical nature, plans not going my way seems like poop.

Oh, sure, I know it usually is a blessing in disguise. Occasionally, it turn, it turns out for the best that my plans weren’t followed. But I still sometimes have the same “ I can’t believe someone/something would dare interrupt my plan” moment. As if I’m God. Which I’m not. And happy to not be because He’s got a tough job. And because He’s God, I constantly have to repent for this.

Slowly, this week has been teaching me this brand-new concept of people not always doing what my schedule/plan/brain says they should do. Slowly, this week has taught me that people will not like me. That not all people want to see me. That I don’t mean everything to everyone. That I don’t please anyone 100% of the time. That living my life to make humans happy with me at all times is impossible. That praying for people who don’t like me isn’t as hard as I imagined.

Chronic

An Emergency Room doctor. My own family doctor. My gastro Dr. All said there was very little to no chance of me having a certain chronic disease from the blood work and medical procedure I’d had done.

To be sent for the first time in my life to the Emergency Room isn’t what I wanted. I don’t need emergency rooms. But I did that day.

To break down on the poor nurse who told me I needed to get to the Emergency Room quick isn’t what I wanted. I don’t cry.  But I did that day.

To be diagnosed after 21 birthdays with a chronic disease isn’t what I wanted. But four days ago,  indeed, I did get diagnosed with one.

After three doctors telling me I wouldn’t have this particular disease.

And when I was diagnosed, I faced the world with a smile knowing I had nothing to worry about  I had a “How can THREE medical professionals be wrong?!” moment. I had a “What does this mean and how much is this going to cost?!” moment. I had a “Please hold my hand and walk through this with me.” moment (While I was talking to God, I also had my fiancé  with me and that thought was on infinite repeat in my head the entire day.)

To say the very least, I was shocked down to my core. My insides were shaking, and I was trying to listen as my fiancé gently spoke encouraging words into my ears and as God whispered gentle reminders that HE holds the helm of my ship.

A couple days later, a friend posted lyrics from this song onto Facebook, and it spoke to that deep place in my soul:

 

God won’t let me go. Despite my questions. And I don’t think I’ve ever held my fiancé's hand as much as I did on that day. Despite my questions. I’m sure both wondered if I’d ever find the calm place where my questions would end.

The questions haven’t. I have a million. But calmness did eventually take over, and I was able to get some rest.

I’m so glad to be surrounded by those who love me and want the best and to be held in the center of God’s palm knowing He already has everything planned.

I’ll write more later. But listen to the song. And let it be a reminder that when we’ve had enough of life, there’s always someone willing to listen…including God.

Perfectly Imperfect

On a less than perfect day, I want to throw in the towel. I want to throw huge hissy fits and let everyone know that the day hasn’t gone my way.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd, sometimes, I do some of those things. I throw fits. I let people know things going my way hasn’t been the theme of the day. I get mad (and when I get mad, I do a bang up job of it). Aggravated. Angry.

I don’t want to fight to remain positive on these days.I don’t want to be anyone’s Positive Polly. Being negative  is perfectly fine with me.

But I’m not meant for that. I’m not made to stay angry. I’m meant to forgive (even myself). And forget (I’ll admit…that one’s hard). I’m meant to remain positive even in the most adverse of situations. I’m meant to see God’s hand working in the events in my life. I’m meant to, as our preacher said last night, reflect God’s image.

At the end of the fits, I feel no better. I feel worse many times because right in the middle of the really good  fit, I realize what a big role I played in whatever is making me angry. (Don’t you HATE when that happens?!)

This post has no rhyme. Nor reason. It simply is meant to tell you that I’m human. Imperfect is my middle name. Well, not really. But you get the point.

I am perfectly imperfect. :)

The story you’ve been waiting for…

 

(Photo Credit: his mother and my future mother-in-law)

If you look really close, there’s a rock on my left hand. No really. there is. Squint your eyes. Scoot you face close to the monitor. There.  See it? Or you could just click on the picture to make it bigger :)   Here’s the story of how it got there.

Everyone’s been asking to hear the story, so those of you who already know will just have to bear with me as I take you step by step through the process of how we were engaged.

Phase 1:

We went out to eat in a city not so far away from us. I ate more than he did. (Not a surprise. Those that know me know I eat all the time. :) ) We left. How’s that for a quaint story? Perfect time to propose to me, eh? 

But it doesn’t end there. And he didn’t propose there.

On our way home, police lights lit up the sky.

Phase 2:

I, having never been pulled over, only jumped out of my skin. As the cop came over the megaphone, I knew we were goners.

Though we had done nothing wrong. I went over a checklist in my head: seatbelts? check. Not texting? check. Not speeding? Well, I didn’t think so. Maybe that’s what this was all about.

The cop REALLY liked that megaphone (or loud speaker or whatever that thing is called), and he told the driver to step out of the vehicle. Thankfully, I wasn’t the driver (I’d have fainted.) I stayed right where I was not wanting to make a sudden move lest I be shot  by the cop like happens on the famous show dealing with real-life situations.

I frantically texted my mother. Assuring her that, though I was certain we’d be either getting a ticket or going to jail, we had done nothing wrong.

When the megaphone-loving cop asked for my license, I contemplated bolting. But with legs as strong as a piece of yarn, I figured I’d never outrun him. So I gave my license. After telling me the ticket was for reckless operation,  he asked if I’d sign the ticket when he cleared my license because my boyfriend was too nervous.

When he went to clear my license, my thoughts went everywhere. Not being familiar with the consequence for reckless operation, I was sure as sure can be that ONE or BOTH of us were going to jail. But if that cop just gave us a ticket, I’d personally spit-shine his shoes.

Though I could think of nothing we did wrong.

When the cop came back, he showed me where to sign. I signed (shaking like a leaf…not taking the time to read the ticket because it was hidden under other tickets. Amateur mistake…).

He asked for the registration to the truck. I open the glove box. And guess what was there…THE RING BOX!

There it was, and this stupid traffic stop and megaphone-loving cop had totally RUINED the surprise I was SURE my boyfriend had planned for later!

Sigh. How little did I know.

Phase 3:

The cop tells me to open it to make sure it isn’t contraband. I open in a way that I wouldn’t see the ring. Because I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. (Kind of thrusted it at the cop…in a SEE, WE DO NOT HAVE CONTRABAND! kind of way :) )

In a chain of events, the ticket is pulled out, and on the ticket that I had signed, was the question most girls are born waiting for…

As it turns out, the megaphone-loving cop was my boyfriend’s good friend. And this was all a set up. And this WAS the surprise moment when he’d decide to ask if I’d marry him.

I said yes, of course. :) Or else, there wouldn’t be that rock I talked about on my left hand.

The funniest part of the night to me was when we were leaving, the guy I’m going to marry tells the other police people (who’d come up to watch the events unfold…as this was planned and they knew the plans because they thought it was really some big time criminal getting pulled over for reckless operation…), “Y’all can just stay here. Because as soon as y’all leave, she’s going to kill me!”

So that’s how the rock got on my left hand.

Now, let’s answer a few questions:

1)No. We haven’t set a date for the wedding. You’ll be notified when we do :)

2) We know this happened pretty quickly. We don’t need to be reminded. Thanks though :) When you know, you know. And we know.

3) Yes, we’ve both been in prayer about this and those surrounding us have been in prayer as well. We would never dream of being outside of God’s will.

Thanks:

Thanks for the many prayers and thoughts and well-wishes we’ve received. We appreciate them from the bottom of our heart. Also, thanks to our fabulous parents and those who have helped shape us into the young people we are today.  We appreciate you taking this journey with us.

 

            The End.

The Mountain Journal…

I was…um…supposed to write a journal once a day chronicling my Christmas journey through the Smokey Mountains. And I um might have gotten so busy with school (and that new boyfriend ;-)) that I couldn’t get around to posting all of the journals I wanted to.

So, blog readers, let’s step back and time and cover lost ground, what do ya say? Well, since I’m writing this, I’ll just go ahead and do it regardless of what you say :)

 

That is the interstate. Yeah. Thankfully, I wasn’t driving. As we went creeping along (that’s ice where the snow has been pushed off), we saw several cars spin out. SCARY stuff!

Anyway, once we got into Tennessee, we discovered our cabin was UP a MOUNTAIN! Think, ice, snow, unplowed twisty/windy roads…not exactly ideal conditions. Against the cabin maintenance guy’s warning, up we went. After about an hour of struggling, we made it.

I jumped out and would have kissed the ground. Instead, I quickly found my ballet shoes didn’t exactly meet the requirements for being in snow. So, I bounded up to the porch. And it was on that porch that I took in God’s magnificent work.

 

The trees were in my way from getting a good panoramic shot, but hey, when there’s that much beauty, a few trees won’t stop me from viewing it. :)

  Needless to say, we didn’t get much barbecuing…

  or rocking done. :)

The end for now. More to come really soon. Or you know…as soon as I can.

~Jessica

Ahem…

Attention. I. Have. A. Boyfriend. Yep. Somehow, I’ve done gone and fell in love ;-) I’m kidding. About the somehow part. I know how…by God’s divine hand reaching down and knocking me upside my wee head and knocking some sense into me.

Sad thing? I don’t have a picture with him yet. Or at least, not one downloaded from an SD card, saved into my computer, and then uploaded here. But I do believe that somewhere, in this vast world, there IS a picture of the two of us together. It just hasn’t magically landed into my computer files. Shame on the wee thing!

Although most of you already know this, I vaguely remember telling you you’d be the first to know. So here it is. The big news in black and white. Or if I’ve changed the color of my ink, it MIGHT be brown. But brown and white is just as good :)

The end. :)

~Jessica

A White Dream…

As a small girl, I always dreamed of going to Tennessee and hearing the whisper of snow falling and see the glittering snow cover the mountains on a brisk morning while I sit in my beautiful cabin on the side of a mountain. And to take pictures of this…well, that was in my dream, too!

I got my wish! Over the next few days, I’m going to write a blog a day try to write a blog a day that chronicles my journal entries of each spectacular moment of my trip. Along with a few pictures to…ya know…keep your interest ;-)

Here is just one more to wet your whistle…(I do believe you can click on the picture to make it a little bigger.)

 

-Jessica