N to the C

Hello, friends all. I just realized I've been so caught up in the steady, sometimes mind-numbing, thrum of life - and have focused on my writing blog when I've had the inkling to blog at all - that I've neglected to write here. And that is my loss! Coming back to this blank page makes me realize how much I like to simply blog about life. There's a beautiful simplicity about the day-to-day that's not to be underestimated.

I was inspired to return by one of my dearest friends, Megan. Her most recent posts concern Facebook, and how it affects our perception of ourselves and our lives. Check it out, if you have the inclination!

What's been going on in the good ol' Krychocosm? Well, we moved to North Carolina. I guess that's kind of a big deal. Actually, it's almost the end of Chris' first semester at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. Unsurprisingly, it's been fun and not too difficult for him, since he likes to write and read about theology in his spare time, anyway. There are certainly worse problems to have.

Of course, this threw somewhat of a wrench in my emotional machinery for a bit. Since Chris is working part-time from home and doing school, his schedule is fairly flexible. He's at home quite a bit, albeit working. So, I find it all too easy to try interact with him as if he isn't working. This was especially true after we first arrived here, since I was still adjusting and clinging to the familiar like flotsam in a shipwreck. I've gotten much better about respecting his space since then. After all, he's working hard for Ellie and me - to provide for us. I try to remember this when I feel the sinful resentment kicking in. I have to remind myself that he's not working because it's the most fun thing ever and he'd rather do that than spend time with me. He does enjoy work, but he does it for a God-ordained reason, and that is worthy of great respect.

Deer in the front of our townhouse - a regular occurrence.

Our sweet Elayne Kaylee is ELEVEN MONTHS OLD. Unreal! Her steady growth has afforded me all kinds of new domestic opportunities that seem a bit strange, at a glance. For example: I just pulled a whole squash out of the oven. It's for Ellie's baby food, but still. That may not strike you as odd, but baking whole squashes never struck me as something I would be doing as a function of motherhood. Her increasing mobility has afforded her all kinds of new opportunities for facial expressions, including the impish lip-quirk that indicates she did something she wasn't supposed to, and the bright-eyed grin with lifted chin that shows she is proud of a new skill she was able to showcase.

Proud of herself for eating a banana with her hands for the first time.

Behold, my beautiful squash.

As for me, well, this has been a period of rapid growth. As I described to a friend, there are those times in life when you go from slow and steady sanctification to a sudden leap that forces you to grow in some crazy ways at what feels like lightning speed. In reality, it's as fast as it needs to be, and there's more than enough grace to go around when it happens...but for awhile, you just feel a little bit bonkers, especially (I imagine) if you're a methodical, checklist-y person like myself.

This transition has brought sins and insecurities to the surface, forcing me to deal with them. The feeling of disorientation that came with moving caused me to cling especially tightly to the Lord, for which I am so thankful. Also, our new church has a reverence and passion for the holiness and glory of God that has challenged me right down to my bones. The clear exposition of Scripture has been nothing less than transformative...as I suppose it always is and must be. The Lord has used our pastor, Dr. Andy Davis, to address difficult issues from Scripture, and I've come out the other side knowing and loving the character of our awesome God more.

So there it is, in a nutshell (or a maybe a squash rind). Hopefully, I'll update here more frequently so that those who care can learn more about what's going on with us than what Facebook statuses indicate.   Hope you're well, dear reader. By all means, leave me a comment telling me something going on with you.

Fear & Frontier

I can feel my blood pressure rising, my pulse quicken with anxiety. Why? One word: transition.

A new season of transition has begun. The last one began with Ellie's birth. Now, just when I was feeling like I had motherhood in hand, I turn around to see my five-month-old barrel roll across the floor to get into the Xbox wires, and eat her first solid foods (which I'm going to have to start actually cooking and storing soon), and take two naps instead of four (meaning I have less time for writing and voice acting), in addition to realizing that we're moving across the country in two months, and my husband's going to school and working part-time, and I'm not going to know where the grocery store in Wake Forest is.

It's new, and so it scares me. And while slipping into the all-too-comfortable "American Dream" scares me more, a house, white picket fence and 2.5 children certainly sounds a whole lot safer.

I mean, how will I know who I'm going to be in these new situations? I know how I am now - I can avoid the pitfalls easily. But in the future, when new stresses beset me and I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off because Ellie spilled her milk and rubbed peanut butter in her hair and the maybe-new-baby is squalling because he/she rolled over onto a sticker and I haven't taken a shower in two days and we have to adjust the grocery budget because prices went up and income went down and we're taking our first overseas family mission trip in three weeks...then, who will I be? How will I handle it? Can I accomplish every task set out for me in that dark frontier of the days I've not yet lived?

But isn't this a picture of my whole life? Have I ever really known what I was doing? I'd say no, and as it turns out, God has not failed me in staying true to his good, gracious, sovereign character to date. This doesn't make my feelings go away, but the Word does command me not to be afraid. It says to bring my requests to God in prayer and thanksgiving, instead. Friends, if you think of me, will you pray that I will turn my fear of transition over to the Lord in thankful prayer as soon as it arises? I could use the prayers, and the reminders of just how in control God is over periods of great change.

Getting Territorial

It's easy to equate the phrase "taking care of Ellie is my job" to "taking care of Ellie is my territory."

Indeed, taking care of Ellie is my job, and I very much view it as such. In the same way that Chris has a responsibility to get up each weekday morning, drive to work and make money to support our family, I have a distinct responsibility to get up at whatever hour to nurse the baby, play with her during the day and generally keep her happy and healthy as she grows up. It's a worthwhile job - the best job ever, in my opinion - and the "pay" is the joy of raising up a child to delight in Christ and her life in Him.

Yesterday I noticed a dangerous slip in my thinking. When Chris made an innocent suggestion about something to do with Elayne, I took it amiss and told him that I felt he was "jumping into my territory." He was quick to point out that we must not become territorial over our child! Mothering may be my job, but parenting - that's a team effort. 

I think that it's easy for mothers to become possessive of their children, adopting an insidious pride in the fact that they're around their babies 24-7 and therefore know their tiniest quirks. As if that entitles them (us...me) to take over the role that God has given to both parents! We quickly forget that just as we are merely stewards of our money and our talents, we are merely stewards of our children. Ellie belongs to God, first and foremost, for it was He who "knit her together in [my] womb" and who "wrote every one of the days ordained for her before one of them came to be" (Psalm 139). I did no knitting, or writing. I am simply privileged to be the one God chose as Ellie's mother.

Perhaps internalizing that truth is the surest way to combat the idea that Elayne is mine and mine alone to deal with. If I remember that she is God's, then I will strive to raise her in a Godward manner, which means that I will inevitably see parenting as something Chris and I must do together. For Chris and I are to Ellie, as to the rest of the world, a picture of Christ and His church in our marriage (Ephesians 5), and Ellie won't see that picture well if I keep trying to take over and do things by myself.

Something to chew on. Let me know what you think.

21-22

Dear friends,


Again, I want to feature the work of another writer that I think you will enjoy. My husband wrote this poem for me not too long ago, on my 22nd birthday. I think it's beautiful.


What? Do you dare to suggest that this is an excuse for not writing myself? Well, maybe the tiniest bit. :) Mostly, though, I want to share the art. Hope you like it.


---

21

Though darkness came this year, and pain
it has not cast us down nor any battle won,
and clouds there are that gather still
but cannot kill the sky nor hide the rising sun

Through trial, tempest, shadows, rain,
we jogged like dogged marathoners 'gainst our fears
though road was turned to mud and mire
our feet we pounded, raised again against the year

Though murk and gloom around have lain
it has not conquered you (nor us) nor overcome
and mighty though its bluster be
this sorrow is but fog, by daylight soon undone

Through canyons, valleys, crevices,
we hiked like mountaineers against the rocks and shame
though path was crumbling dust and shale
we unimpressed pressed on, though wearied, wounded, lamed

22

Another year awaits your tired, lovely soul,
But I swear again you will not walk these months alone.

My hand in yours, your beauty still my sword against the night
until we two shall set the world alight, aright, aflight

Read This, You Button Face

I've neglected you, folks. It probably feels much longer than it's actually been since I've blogged, as I stop both reading blogs and writing on my own when I go through one of these uninspired periods.

I've been inspired in non-blog writing lately, though, so I've been working on my novel and a new, humorous short story. This gives me a break from the almost-60,000 words (phew!) that I've completed on the still-untitled fantasy work.

The last few days have been rough for me. On bad days, I find it difficult to do almost anything, including the things I generally enjoy doing. However, it's going to be okay. This is a fact that I couldn't grasp before, but the fact that I now know hope flowing in my heart assures me that God is continuously healing me, no matter how slowly I feel like he's doing it. My husband is, of course, taking good care of me. Especially when I am able to let go of my pride and fear enough to ask for help...

Chris, myself, and our good friend Stephen (who writes the blog Gospelized) are heading to Colorado Springs this Monday to spend time with family for Thanksgiving. I'm greatly excited. Want to know the best part of the story? I forgot that my Thanksgiving break actually doesn't begin until Wednesday. I am one of those kids who never, ever misses class, so that's why it's funny to me. I guess it probably wasn't funny to you. Oh, well.

Apparently, the fact that I'm on the internet is causing Chris's HALO game to lag. Someone just killed him, and Chris proceeded to call the uncouth scoundrel a "button face." These are the common "expletives" that you will hear within in the Krycho household. I like to tell the story about the time I was on the road and yelled to a frustrating driver, "What are you doing, you...bumblebee?!"

Yummm. Warm, homemade Nestle toll house cookies are baking, sweetening the air with their thick, chocolate-laden scent and warming my hands and toes with the heat from the oven where they are pleasantly housed. These grey autumnal days, while often bad for the mood, can be good for the heart when such things are in the mix!

And now, my response to something Chris just said to me: "I like killing people after it ends." I'll leave  you to try to figure out what the heck I was talking about. And for those of you who know the inside joke, the answer is not bounty hunters. Which are only legal in the U.S. and the Philippines, by the way -- the two countries of my immediate ethnic background.

Letter to a Lovelorn Friend

Dear friend,

I wish that my telling you that God has a plan in this, and that you're worth more than you could possibly know, could soothe your hurting heart. However, after all the rejection you've been through, I know you doubt yourself, wondering what's wrong with you. Is it your personality? Your appearance? Your past? I want to scream, "It's none of those things! There is nothing wrong with you!" What basis do you have for believing me, though? I don't blame you for wanting proof that many will consider the one you marry someday a truly lucky person.

I know. You can't hear it from me, since I'm already married -- for me, the game is over. That doesn't offend me in the least, it only makes me pray harder. My relationship status doesn't de-legitimize the pain I feel for you. I've watched you cringe from the wounds that romantic interests have dealt you continuously. I've watched them try to hang on to the things they like about you while letting go of everything else -- a cruel half-commitment, a friendship that tortures you, built on the most fragile foundation. It's a keen form of injustice.

Unfortunately, it's also normal. It's the nature of our strange dating culture, of skewed expectations and of miscommunication between men and women. Anyone who's been broken up with has felt it. For some reason, though, you seem to get a dose of it more often than anyone else I know.

How can that be? You are a treasure.

I know God is not cruel, and he is not a trickster. He would not toy with you. He is so good and faithful. Keep holding on to that! I admire you for already doing so. I only wish I could make you believe it with all your heart.

In any case, I will continue to lift you up in prayer. I can't wait for that day that your future spouse sees your face and knows they have found someone worth holding on to with every scrap of love in them. On that day, we can rejoice together.

Keeping hoping until then,
Jaimie

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Thirteenth Part

Thirteenth part?! Did you know that most elevators (and therefore, buildings), do not have a thirteenth floor due to the superstition that the number is unlucky? Do not worry, dear reader. This post is not unlucky, because "in my experience, there's no such thing as luck" (name that quote and win the prize of perpetual awesomeness!).

Ahem. Sorry about the random introductory paragraph. Streams of consciousness should cease to surprise you by now, though, coming from me.

I love my husband with all of my heart. He takes such good care of me. I have learned, however, that no matter how well Chris does at "husbanding," marriage can't fix the hurts in my heart.

I have always harbored insecurities about my self-worth. Specifically, I have trouble believing I am beautiful, and that love is truly unconditional.

Before I even started dating, I expected that having a man utterly committed to me would take care of my issues. All I needed were those dear compliments and that flattering pursuit to let me know that I was worth fighting for -- then everything would be okay.

Here's the catch: for a short time, it was true. I felt okay. The thrill of being chased provided me with an emotional high that made me forget my self-doubts. After the dating "honeymoon period" ended -- a sixth- month period, some say -- I discovered that I was floundering in my insecurities alone...again!

Friends have asked if marriage alleviated my insecurities -- indeed, they have subtly asked if it eradicated them altogether. Marriage gives me a living picture of Christ's love for me, but it only clarifies an understanding I've had nearly all my life. Marriage isn't the cure. Christ is the only cure -- that is a fact that doesn't change, no matter what relationship stage you're in. Don't trust anything else to "fix" things in your heart, even if you're sure that "if you only had ____, you wouldn't deal with ____."

It isn't easy to trust that what Christ promises about his power, healing and goodness is true. However, believe me when I say don't wait for earthly circumstances to change before bringing heart issues to the Lord. He is completely dependable, and he will not turn you away. In fact, he will rejoice to see his child trusting him with the most fragile parts of life.

Intriguing Little Poison

While jamming out to various songs in my head today as I am wont to do, my mental radio tuned to that old song by the Pussycat Dolls, "Don't Cha." Now, it's really bugging me.

"Don't cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?...don't cha wish your girlfriend was fun like me? Don't cha?" the lyrics taunt. The song paints a picture of the singer blatantly flaunting her charms in front of a guy who's "taken," filling him with doubt and discontent about the woman he's with.

The thing that disturbs me is how true to life such an attitude is. Why was the song so popular awhile back? It resonates with people, because most women (and men) have probably had a "don't cha" moment where they wanted to strut their stuff and say, "Look at me! I'm sooo much better!"

There's something fun about sinning -- otherwise, we wouldn't do it. That's true here. The element of competition makes the theme of the song titillating, which makes it all the more perfidious.

Dating people, engaged people, married people, comparison is poison. Once you allow yourself to start looking at others in order to find areas where your significant other falls short, trust me, you will find areas where they do -- endless areas, in fact. The seemingly innocent little "if only he/she..." game will become a perilously slippery slope, creating unrealistic expectations for the person that he/she will not be able to live up to! As they begin to fail you in those expectations, bitterness and discontent will grow, as surely as a seed will sprout when planted and watered under the right conditions.

Do your significant other a favor, and evaluate them by the Word and wise counsel on their own merit. Everyone, and I mean everyone, has annoying attributes. Any ideal you have you've made up in a fantasy world, trust me. Slap someone on a chart of those ideals and they are doomed to fail the test.

When the "don't cha" thoughts arise, stop. Reject the thought, taking it captive in the power and for the sake of Christ. Replace the thought with meditations on what is good and admirable.

Nobody -- that is, nobody I know -- likes poison! It may smell good, but do yourself a favor -- after you waft the scent over to your nose with your hand like your good chemistry teacher taught you to do, take note of what the smell indicates, put down the vial, and walk away.

Peasant and Queen, and the Man Who Pulls Me Onto the Dance Floor

I just returned from Anthony and Megan PLOPPER'S wedding (Chris was a groomsman and I was a last-minute door-opener)! It was gospel-centric, and simply beautiful.

Weddings are fun, especially if you know people there. I managed to meet some more neat people from RUF (why are all of them so cool? It's hardly fair), as well as make friends with Megan's energetic little sister, Holly. Holly wanted to play "peasant and queen" in the sanctuary before everyone showed up.

---

Peasant and Queen

Basically, dear reader, the game is as follows: Holly shows up at my castle while I -- the queen -- am delivering a eulogy for my late best soldier, who happened to be a woman. Holly proves herself an even better soldier by slaying an Ogre, and I hire her.

Next, a non sequitur: I sneak out of the castle with a quintessential scarf over my head to "see the world," a la Princess Jasmine in "Aladdin." I meet Holly's next character -- a, uh, pie maker. Said pie maker takes me to her secret lair where she has carved all kinds of beautiful statues. She reveals that not only is she an artistic genius, she knows magic! Gasp! She makes me look into a cup covered in rhinestones -- whatever I ask, the cup shows me. I consequently discover that my current captain of the guard is a traitorous fiend who is going to overthrow me. Bummer.

Oh yeah, Holly reveals she was the queen of my land once...but she got kicked out. She still has her crown (identical to mine, may I add) tucked away to prove it. As the queen, I don't know how I feel about that...

Finally, I got tired and went to hang out with the bride and bridesmaids. I don't think Holly was too happy that the queen abdicated her throne just when we were freeing the horses from the clutches of the evil captain. Especially since my horse, Hurricane, was leading the group.

---

The Man Who Pulls Me Onto the Dance Floor

The hip-hop music begins to throb on the dance floor. I sit by the flickering, blue candle at the table, tapping my fingers, smiling at all the fun dancers doing their fun thing.

Suddenly -- to my sheer shock and puzzlingly-pleasing dismay -- Chris jumps up, grabs me by the hand and pulls me toward the floor. He's never done such a thing, since I'm usually the first on the dance floor. I protest forcefully. I don't want to make a fool of myself. He grins -- that big, endearing, shining smile of his. "Hey, I'm going to go out there and look crazy, so you can look crazy with me!" He points out that we won't be the only ones jumping around as white as white can be. "I know you'll have fun! I know you want to bust out your hip-hop moves!"

I start protesting more forcefully. Finally, though, he gets me onto the dance floor. I take a few steps, and then smile suddenly, picking up the pace until I'm hopping around like a maniac, too.

That's my husband for you. That may seem like a simple thing, but it's indicative of his wonderful love towards, and understanding of, me. Chris reminds me of who I am. He draws me out of me. He knows my heart, and when I am too bashful to do what I want to do (like get to know new people at my table rather than retreat into my shell of shyness) or be as spirited as I want to be, he helps make sure I don't regret the day by gently nudging me to simply live. He is the man who teaches me about that lovely phrase, carpe diem.

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Twelfth Part

A Song of Sentiments to My Husband 
About the Difficulties of Honesty and Openness.


My love, you look me in the eye,
And I have to tear my eyes away.
Today, my mouth's an iron fist,
Clenched hard, so my heart cannot escape.
Well, maybe. Maybe...

Tomorrow, I'll let you see the steps
I dance in secret.
Tomorrow, I'll let you break the code
Of what I'm weeping.
Tomorrow, I'll be one day more like Christ,
Who teaches me how truly to be true --

This time, I'd rather run and hide
Under the shelter known as surface truth.
Today, you saw, at least, my mind
One step away from how you wanted to.
But maybe, maybe...

Tomorrow, I'll endure the pain of pulling
Out the arrow.
Tomorrow, I'll let you dig right beside me
In the refuse.
Tomorrow, I will claim another day
With Jesus, who alone can make me true --

Tomorrow, I'll tell you.

You who are one flesh with me,
I'll unlock my mind,
And if you will help me, we'll
Draw out the soul inside.
Then, when all those earthly shadows are laid bare,
We will hear the Spirit speak
The truth about what's true.

Chris and Me, Avril and Me

Hi, everyone.

I've been sliiiightly out of commission this last week. I didn't make a Krychocosm, for one, but I think that's pretty excusable, considering the fact that Chris and I were out of town for our friends David and Bethany's wedding from Friday to Sunday, and Sunday was our first anniversary. We got all gussied up fancy-shmancy went to Cheesecake Factory.

Photo courtesy eataroundokc.com

Then, we stayed at the gorgeous Skirvin-Hilton hotel in OKC!

Photo courtesy www1.hilton.com

Also, there are pretty flowers sitting on my coffee table.

Isn't that awesome? God is good.

In the car yesterday, Chris and I were listening to Avril Lavigne's Let Go.  Great memories. I am unashamed that that CD is still one of my favorites -- not only does Avril have a beautiful voice, I identify (and did in the past) with many of her songs.

My mentioning this sparked an interesting conversation, in which I tried to explain why I -- very normal (well...), very girlish and very peppy -- felt so in touch with very punk, very edgy and very angst-y Avril. In fact, since Let Go came out,  my heart has hurt for her many times as I listened to the sad stories contained in her songs.

Chris listened to the lyrics of "Anything But Ordinary" and said, "Okay, I can see why you identify with her, in some good ways and bad ways." For example: A good way is that, as the song says, "I'd rather be anything but ordinary, please." A bad way is my unhealthy restlessness and discontent, reflected in the lyrics, "Is it enough to love? Is it enough to breathe?" And later, "[I'll do] anything to make me feel alive."

I mused that I wasn't sure someone like Avril and I would be friends if we actually knew one another. Then, the thought hit me (hear me out on it): There are really only a few types of people in the world.

I think we all have our categories of pain and insecurity that overlap with a larger chunk of humanity than we can fully comprehend. At the same time we're utterly unique, we're also so very similar. Isn't that crazy?

P.S. More not-so-happy mail. Got a manuscript back today that I've sent in twice (graciously, the editor let me make corrections and try again the first time). Once again, she made edits and said to fix it up and send it back to her. Meh. Let's try this dance again...

The Krychocosm - Episode IV: Remembering

The Current State of Things

Dear reader,

I'm overdue for a general life update, so here goes.

Chris and I are doing well, all things considered. We enjoyed having Chelsea live with us for a time (she's not anymore).  We often see our friends in the newly/nearly-marrieds Bible study, who have been an incomparable blessing to me. Unfortunately, in other relational news, my dear friend Nicole moved to Wisconsin two weeks ago. She's one of my favorite people to laugh with. And, as you know, we still constantly miss PJ and Katie in Forth Worth, Texas.

Speaking of Texas, Chris and I went to the Gaylord Texan hotel two weeks ago for a Family Life marriage conference. We had a wonderful, restful weekend! Having a focused time to discuss important, often-overlooked details of our marriage was refreshingly...romantic.

Speaking of marriage, Chris and my first anniversary is in 10 days! Hard to believe!

I'm looking forward to traveling to the Focus on the Family Institute reunion in August. Chris, a native Colorado Springs man, attended the institute a few summers ago and frequently mentions how much he liked the people he met there. Now I get to meet them, too!

Current Norman weather: it is raining prettily.

This summer is moving quickly! For anyone who doesn't know, I'm neither taking classes nor working this summer--the idea is that, after a semester of pretty bad depression, a summer off will give me time to rest both physically and emotionally, as well as work through some things in my heart that I avoided during the school year for fear of becoming more overwhelmed.

That said, I've had a lot of time for art. Chris helped me with the first outline for the novel I will write for class next semester, and that was some of the most colorful writing fun I've had since I switched from journalism (and sociology, if you want to count that brief stint) to professional writing! My main characters are in place, and I drew up the quintessential map of fantastical locations with outlandish, Tolkienesque names.  Also,  I already planned out the romance. There has to be a good romantic plot thread, you know!

The next steps are matters of fleshing out the plot, history, magic system, etc. I'm trying not to sell myself short with this story--I have a tendency to write down, if you will, in order to condense my ideas into a bare-essentials short story. That was a great tactic for short story class, but now it's novel, baby!  I can comment on life, individuals and society all I want this time! :)

If you've looked at my facebook, you might have seen that I've taken up sketching again. What a joy! There is something amazing about starting with blank paper, a pencil in your hand and an image in your head, then seeing that image slowly form into a picture. It's like turning your brain inside-out so other people can see the inside.

Another summer activity I love is volunteering at the Eden Clinic, a crisis pregnancy center. God laid the hurting women that go there on my heart after a string of random events. Though I'm doing simple clerical work--answering the phone, data entry and the like--I feel blessed to be a part of a ministry so throughly founded and dependent on the gospel. The volunteers there, especially Alison and Gayla, exemplify godly womanhood to me every week, and have been a consistent source of joy and encouragement.

That's about all! Oh, yeah--Chris and I are having Kessau (my Nepalese friend, if you recall), his wife and another couple over for dinner. Please be praying for us as we seek to be neighbors that shine as lights in the world. Thanks!

You Should Know...

Announcement to the world: a friend getting married does not mean that friend will suddenly become too "mature" for you, drop their entire fun-loving personality and dive head-first into the proverbial "real world," going through the remainder of life without a sense of humor, childlikeness and desire for your friendship, leaving you behind in the wilder, more fun league of un-married people, and looking down their nose at you, unable to participate in all the wonderful wonderfulness of life.

*deep breath*

That is all.

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Eleventh Part

I miss the people I love very easily, so you can imagine how much I miss Chris when he's gone. Some scoff or laugh at me for declaring I can't wait to see him after one day of being apart, but I don't care.

Aneissa and Kevin married yesterday. Sitting back at the reception table, surveying the crowded tables and dance floor, I basked in joy for the new couple. When God draws two people together, I glimpse divine beauty and experience divine happiness. A partnership has come to completion in a covenant made before our King. Two people are irrevocably connected. There is a sense of finality and of rightness.

Chris has been gone since Friday morning. I knew I would miss him, but I, of course, didn't know how God would whisper in my heart through that longing.

I realized that I was glad that I missed Chris like I did. God used that to renew my deeply burning joy in and appreciation for oneness. Without Chris, I feel bare and incomplete--like I'm wearing tennis shoes without socks, or like I forgot my wedding ring for a day.

How great a miracle, when God makes two parts into a unit, like a puzzle that only the Father, Son and Holy Spirit in their oneness can both create and complete.

My song to anyone once shafted by love.

I pulled out my 6th grade journal yesterday--a detailed chronicle of my life from 2001 to 2005. It laughed hysterically at my melodramatic accounts of the rambunctious boys who called me "cutie" and put crickets in my locker to the girls I code-named because they were my tacit enemies or who drew comic strips with me and loved me like a faithful sister.

I'm an emotional person, so the stories resurrected vivid memories. It won't surprise you to know that the memories about disappointed love were most clear.

I revel in the love of my husband now. It's a more beautiful love than I had a concept of at age 12, that's for sure! Finding him wasn't the ending of a fairy tale like I thought it would be. Instead, it was the opening of an adventure more grand and awesome than any story my writer's mind ever contrived.

I have a background of heartbreak, but look where God has taken me.
This song is an example of where I used to be.
Hopefully, it will encourage anyone who is disillusioned and ready to give up on a God-sent love story.

This was penned in my journal after the final sentence of the entry: "Perhaps, one goodbye isn't good enough..."

What Went Wrong
written June 16, 2004

I thought that for sure all the wounds had healed up/and nothing would disturb me anymore
But I opened up my journal yesterday/finding that your name was written on the cover
I turn the page, and a picture that I drew/traces lines of adoration in your smile
I turn the radio on and music floods my mind/and it just happens to be our song!

Oh, quit haunting me, baby!/What have I ever done to you?
I'm dying to retrace our steps and find out
where we went wrong!
Oh, quit haunting me, baby!/Your eyes are more than I can bear
I'm dying to retrace our steps and find out
if you miss me!/Oh, where did we go wrong?
Where did we go wrong?

Viewing running commentaries everywhere that I alight/of lovers who are on the path we took
A passage strangely familiar to me as I read at night/is turning up in every single book
I close my eyes, maybe sleep will kill the pain/but I only get a vision of our stars
And when I open them, I daydream for an hour/of running into warm and open arms!

Oh, quit haunting me, baby!/What have I ever done to you?
I'm dying to retrace our steps and find out
where we went wrong!
Oh, quit haunting me, baby!/Your eyes are more than I can bear
I'm dying to retrace our steps and find out
if you miss me!/Oh, where did we go wrong?
Where did we go wrong?

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Ninth Part

In some ways, I don't think marriage differs that much from dating. Before you married people say, "That's not true!," see what I mean:

When I first began dating, I--like many other dreamy-eyed middle school girls--had a problem with idolizing the guys I was into. My thoughts were consumed with fantasies: what would we talk about the next day, would he ask me out, where would we go if he did, would he be my first kiss?

My first "long-term relationship" was plagued by an ongoing battle between devotion to God and devotion to my boyfriend. Though I definitely loved and served God, I pushed him to the wayside, knowing deep down that my boyfriend was the one thing I would hesitate--or maybe refuse--to give up if God asked.

So, as the story goes, I learned the hard way, and the boy fell out of my life, and I fell into God's arms. That was the first step toward a new understanding of his lordship over me (not to mention everything else).

My freshman year of college, my world was rocked when I met Chris, little knowing I would marry him not very long afterward. We went through many spiritual ups and downs together during our dating and engagement, and by the time things had settled down a bit, I concluded that I had man-idolatry out of my system, and that's why God was allowed me meet Chris and have the love story I always dreamed of.

Well, I found out, it doesn't actually work that way.

Dating, engagement, marriage - these things aren't the rewards for completely arriving at the place where we never depend on our significant other to fulfill needs and give peace where only God can.

Even now, there are days I feel a strong wave of emotion: I talk to Chris, I try to get his help. Sometimes we get frustrated with each other. Sometimes we sympathize and cry together. And many times, those things were what was appropriate and needed. However, I still find myself playing the middle school game: I'm running to him, asking him to do the impossible, while Father God--our "jealous" God--desires to be my all in all and to take perfect care of me.

Women: your future/now husband cannot give you the kind of love that will emotionally fulfill you at all times and in the all the right ways. Only God loves perfectly.

Men: you cannot fix all the problems in and for your future/now wife, even if she brings them to you with that expectation. Only God "fixes" perfectly. :)

How good is our God.

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Eighth Part

Marriage has shown me something very hilarious: Chris and I, both self-proclaimed English nerds, define the same words very, very differently!

Take this scene, for instance (and forgive the tense changes...or else):

I walk out of the living room in tears, feeling overwrought by loads of homework, circumstances with my family, and the idea that I'm doing an awful job of taking care of my poor, mono-struck husband.

Two minutes earlier, I had given a stirring speech about the unsearchable depths of my stress. Obviously, since Chris must be able to read my mind, I was sure he knew I wanted only to be heard, and perhaps hugged.

Being the helpful man he is, Chris had offered some perspective: the homework was not nearly as bad as I was making it out to be, and if I just started on it, I would be finished more quickly than I ever expected.

Which brought me to a sudden flare of anger and frustration, which brings me to the tears.

Plopping down on our pale blue comforter, I huff loudly while spreading out books from various classes in a semicircle around me. My poor, mono-struck husband comes in to try to comfort me, but by this time, I won't have any of it. I bury my nose in my books and act pouty and stubborn until a good hour later, when I decide that needless conflict with my husband really kinda sucks.

I peek my head out the door, walk to the maroon armchair where Chris sits, and settle myself onto the floor beside him. After I offer a sincere apology, we begin to inspect the string of misunderstandings that caused our whole conversation to unravel.

I had said that I was "stressed." By that, I also meant "overwhelmed." Chris informed me that he can be "stressed" without being "overwhelmed," and he had been trying to keep me from spiraling from one to the other. When I told him that I was stressed about homework, he figured that it was low-level disconcertment he could quickly talk me out of, rather than a deluge of despair I merely wanted to be rescued from, if only for a moment.

Hyperbolic? Me? Whatevs. In any case, this situation has come up before with the words "disagreement" and "fight," as well as "upset" and "mad." The miscommunications are funny in retrospect, but certainly not at the moment they arise.

This will probably happen to you at some point, dear reader. The end.

P.S. Agh! I keep batting a dumb little gnat away from my head. They are living in our houseplant. Isn't that fascinating?

Kids, don't do this at home. Seriously.

Another incident proving the grace and goodness of God:

I left my keys in the lock last night, all night. I'm grateful nothing happened.

Another incident proving the power of words:

Goodbyes, no matter how "inconsequential," should never be made in anger or frustration, without a sincere, "I love you." A shoutout in the presence of the blogospherians to the keeper of my heart: Christopher Krycho, I love you!

In conclusion, leaving keys and leaving angry are pains that I be-leave we must a-leave-iate. I'll leave you with that.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It was wide open, and I had to do it!
But, dear reader, if you had an inkling of the extent of my weirdness, this probably didn't catch you off guard.

Stay hopeful!
-Jaimie

Contemplations of a Young Wife, Seventh Part

I know you'll like this post. Almost everyone will, because the topic is BABIES!

Now, now, before you jump to conclusions, I am not pregnant...at least, not that I'm aware of. Blame my suspicions on Beth Krycho, my very fantastic sister-in-law. A few days ago, the Krycho Clan (Klan?) were staying in a chalet in Monarch, relaxing after two days of skiing. I was feeling very sick--nauseated, which I was pretty sure wasn't a function of having eaten trail mix and mini-Snickers--and didn't have a clue why.

Beth suggested, based on a few other things going on with me, that I might be pregnant. We giggled about it for awhile, but it got me thinking.

What if Chris and I are that 1% couple? Despite human effort, God will do what He will do, and it's entirely possible that He will grant a child to a couple who think it impossible.

Chris and I have discussed our opinions on children even before we were engaged--an important thing for a person to know about the person they intend to marry. I will never forget what Chris said: he didn't like children being referred to as "accidents."

Not that there is any condemnation there. I've said it many times myself. But it raises the question of our attitude toward such a huge life-change. An "accident" connotes a mistake of some sort, which I disagree with. It also connotes the element of surprise, which I obviously must agree with.

As a new wife, you can bet your bottom dollar that I've thought about motherhood, and the possibility of it happening earlier than expected or planned, as it were. We've decided that no matter what...even if God chooses to never give us children.......Chris and I will rejoice in the doings of the Lord who has beautifully thrown us into this adventure called marriage.