Category Archives: marriage

Our Dating Story

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Don’t tell anyone (as if its not already clear) but Jess and I are hardcore nerds. Yes, that’s right, we both grew up homeschooled. I even grew up a preachers kid. As teenagers when we were doing the Running Start program at our local community college (where high school students take college classes) my dad would drop us both off either in a church van or in a beater truck that was painted like a solar system. I didn’t get my licensee until I was seventeen. Jess didn’t wear jeans to church until she was like thirteen. I could attempt to convince you more, but I don’t see the point. My guess is that you’re already convinced…and, oh, how I’ve just begun.

Neither of us dated much. Jess had one boy friend that could be considered legit. I technically dated two girls before Jess…I think I may have held their hands once. Lets just say it never got hot and heavy and there wasn’t much depth to the ‘relationships’!

Essentially we are both of our first loves. As an eight year old Jess journaled about me as her “hunk”. I think early on had I journaled about her it would have been as my “best friends annoying little sister”. But oh how things change!

We fell in like over my last few years of high school. Jess’ brother moved away and I (relationally) moved in. I started to see this girl for who she was, not as a little sister but as a genuine hottie. Jess claims she always knew that I was a hottie and was just biding her time. As is the case for most of you, I’m certain, your first venture into sharing your love for your new bff was via email. Right? Isn’t that how guys and girls do it these days? So I wrote Jess an email proclaiming my love for her in not so many words. Over time we decided that there would be no reason to date unless we were going to get married (remember, we’re still acne riddled fifteen/sixteen year olds right now). So what did we do? We talked to our parents of course!

“Mom, dad, I really like Jessica and I was wondering if you thought she was someone that I might one day marry?”

 

…crickets…

 

“We were thinking about dating but we didn’t want to do it unless it might one day lead to marriage. And we wanted our parents approval and advice”

 

…crickets…

 

(I’m sure my parents said something but it was the verbal equivalent to…crickets…which could probably be translated as “my son is effing nuts. What is he talking about and why is my nerdy little boy talking about getting married? Maybe the kid should get his drivers license first!”)

Jess did the same thing with her parents and received about the same type of response. I don’t remember chronologically how things happened next, but it was on January 1 of Y2K that we started officially dating.

Our first kiss was at Scarpelli Hall. What is Scarpelli Hall? Well it’s only one of Clark Community Colleges buildings with one of the nicest waiting rooms on campus! Plush blue chairs, little to no privacy, pop machine, foot traffic. What more could a boy ask for? And remember this: I’ve never kissed a girl before in my life (mom, sisters, aunts–you don’t count). I think the scene went a little something like this:

Me: Hey Jess I’d really like to kiss you. I’ve never kissed a girl before and I think that I deserve to finally do so. I’m kind of a dweeb and I don’t really know how to…

 

Jess: quietly sings ‘hush little baby don’t say a word…”

 

Me: (I begin my pucker about ten inches away from any known face in the region and slowly move in)

 

Jess: (She quickly cuts the distance between my long pucker and her mouth by kissing me in a more appropriate fashion)

 

Me: (in shock and surprise I receive a real kiss.)

 

Some kid from some unknown science class lights off sparklers and dances around us as another student lights off some mortars in the background to celebrate my first kiss and, more importantly, OUR first kiss.*

So we started dating in January and it was in July that I moved to Lubbock, TX and eventually Lisbon, Portugal. For two years we did the long distance thing. Jess spent lots on phone cards (lots!). I spent lots of time charging my phone. We wrote letters, we made each other videos. We made lots of gifts. From pillows with my smell on it, to ugly shirts with my face. From her sending my whole Lubbock class (about fifty of us) home made cookies and gifts to her sending me specially made journals to write her back in. We did the long distance thing well. All the while, however, knowing that it was a long shot that it’d last. We tried to break up numerous times but it just never worked. We just couldn’t do it. We knew we were made for each other.

There was no one else like Jess. Seriously. I traveled the world, I sailed on the Greek Mediterranean seas only to discover that the only woman for me, the only woman who would do, the only woman who had ever capture my heart was the woman waiting for me back in the ‘Couve. Loving long distance was miserable but probably the best thing that ever could have happened for the two of us. It forced us to get to know each other in ways that we never could have experienced otherwise. We talked. And talked. A lot. What more do you have over an ocean than to talk or sing to each other? (yes, that’s right, she made me sing to her sometimes)

When I finally moved back things had changed. Jess was funnier than she had ever been before.** She was more confident as a person, more sure of who she was, and she was funnier (did I say that already?). She had new friends, she was more beautiful than before, and–oh, and I was different too. It took some adjustments but by September it was clear that we were still in this together and that the awkward request we put to our parents some three years prior was still right on. We were gonna get married. And so on the day before her October 4th birthday I surprised her and offered her a ring. And come June of the following year we tied the knott.

And we’ve never ever looked back.

 

* I may have embellished some of this portion of the story.

** Some would argue that she was always funny and that I only now realized or gave her credit for it. But only SOME say that.

Back from Hawaii and back to blogging

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I keep putting off writing this blog because I want it to be perfect. In some way I want to effectively capture with pictures that have been edited and with stories that have been shaped well enough to capture how wonderful our time in Hawaii was. But that ain’t gonna happen! Turns out when you’re gone for eight days life continues to move forward and quite a large pile of things to do builds up! Writing the perfect blog is losing out to other necessary and good things that top the to do list.

For those of you who do not know, Jess and I were surprised by her family with a trip to Hawaii (Oahu, where her brother is stationed). It was a last minute affair where we had less than two of awareness before we flew out. We spent three nights at a secluded resort on the rural/tropical side of the island where we were surprisingly upgraded to a room with our own private deck that overlooked the bay. Each morning we sat on our deck serenaded by roosters, splashing fish, and tropical birds of a thousand kinds. We spent those three and a half days on that side of the island and the older North Shore side. We ate lots of good food, watched sunrises together, shopped randomly, and even went to bed by 5pm one night (don’t judge me). Next we transitioned to staying at my brother and sister-in-laws home where we were able to spend time with their family. They took us snorkeling with sea turtles, we toured Pearl Harbor, we ate more good food, spent some time in Waikiki, and enjoyed being together.

Honestly I didn’t ever think I’d be a “Hawaii guy”–you know, the dude that comes home and always raves about it and talks about how he wants to go back…but, yeah, it was pretty fantastic. More than anything I got to spend time with my wife. If you called, texted, or facebooked me you were completely ignored (at least for the first four days). It was our time. No kids. No doctors appointments. No work. No hospitality. No housemates. No housework. Just us…and a lot of chickens and roosters (seriously, they were everywhere!).

I could tell you lots of stories and I hope they emerge over time. Stories of Jones’ jealousy, stories of my awkward buoyancy, stories of sunrises at garbage filled beaches, stories of monsoons, of scattered and dissolving medicine…good stories.

For now, here are a few quick and unedited photos from our trip. Glad to be back and I look forward to writing again.

Peace.

 

This is where we went snorkeling. So much fun! (aside from all the cuts on my legs from the coral! One of the pains of not having feeling down there!)

Good picture of the turtle...not a great picture of Jess...but come on, we swam with frickin' sea turtles!

The view from our deck!

It was nice to be able to kayak any time we wanted right in the bay at our resort

Celebrating Eight

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We celebrated it yesterday, but it was at this moment eight years ago that I was getting last minute things together to marry my wife. We were just babies at the time, as the picture can attest, but we knew that we had to get married. There was no doubt. There’s never been any doubt. The last eight years have been the best of my life–I have spent them with my absolute best friend and cannot imagine what life would have been like had we not chosen each other. I’m not lying when I tell you that we fit together better than any other couple (sorry every other couple), we’re a match, we’re perfect for each other, we compliment each other in every way that you should and are different from each other in ways that bring joy and intrigue to our world. She’s spontaneous and beautiful and laughs at everything (everything that’s funny I should say). She tells amazing stories, makes amazing food, and is the most thoughtful person I know. We do life well together and I’d fight anyone who thinks they married better than I did. Marrying up is an amazing gift.

I’ve only ever kissed one girl. She journaled about me when she was eight, about how she was going to marry Ryan Woods. We started dating on January 1st of 2000 (that’s right, remember Y2K) and have never looked back. The first few years of our marriage were easy–we found so much joy in being together, in being poor together (some things never change), in playing house together, in just doing life together. Those first years were a whirlwind of laughter and joy. Who said marriage was hard and took work? Riiight. The next few years started to get real. We discovered that once you add in children you have to learn a new level of selflessness that never existed before. With every child (all two of ’em) came a new level of depth and challenge to our relationship as we began to discover that marriage really does take work and intentionality. In the last eight years I’ve been blessed to parent with my wife, to plant a church and a half with my wife, to purchase a minivan with my wife, to live in six amazing houses (OK, not all of ’em were so amazing…) with my wife, to begin raising two spectacular children, to suffer through twenty months of vomiting and bed rest, to explore new ideas and pursue new ideals that have shaped who we are today, to eat amazing food, visit amazing places, and to do it all laughing and smiling along the way. Nobody smiles like my wife does.

We have no idea how many more years we’ll be given together–but if the previous eight years tell us anything its that whatever time we’re given together whether it is six months or twenty-six more years will be filled with joy, laughter, moving, good food, exploration, and an intense friendship that drives it all.

If I were to make an attempt to capture what best describes us I could use words like awesomeness and love and all that. But I think if I were honest, I think if I spoke with clarity, I think the best word would be partnership. In ever sense of the word we are partners. We do life together, we do life as partners, we view our life as an opportunity to partner together in making a new future.

I love you Jess.

Off to Camping We Go

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Goodbye. I don’t care what you say but I’m leaving you to spend time with my wife. The kids are taken care of, the chickens are being cared for, the garden is being watered. We’re off to camp…and we don’t know where. Goodbye. See you next week. In the meantime watch this intriguing video.
peace.

Storytelling

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Below I’ve included a story from a friend at mine from Outback. She’s a single mom and has an amazing perspective to give us concerning church. If you get (and read) my newsletter then you’ve already read this post. If you do not read or receive my newsletter, this will be a good post for you to read. I want you to read it in a specific way however, beyond just gaining new perspective. I have had more responses concerning Ambers article than anything else I’ve ever written because it specifically speaks for a group of people that need a voice. Here’s the important part, YOU have a story. Amber’s story isn’t flashy, it isn’t exceedingly special or exciting. It’s just life. So often we trick ourselves into believing that our stories, our lives, can have little impact in the world. Often we believe that our story is not worth sharing.

Wrong.

Here’s what Amber had to say:

I have one child, a boy. He’s almost eleven. He’s witty and smart and he challenges my patience on a daily basis. I’ve been a single mom for nearly four years now. My attempt at finding a church as a single mom was primarily driven by my    desire to seek out likeminded people for fellowship    and support because I REALLY, REALLY needed it.    We all do. Out of the three churches I erratically attended, I never really got past the introductions; no one invited me join their activities after the service or to their Bible study later that week. I never quite felt like I was a part of the larger picture. Sure, I talked to people. When I dropped off my son at Sunday School other parents would ask me if it was my first time, who I came with and was my husband in the sanctuary. Dialogue ended when I said that; no it    wasn’t my first time, I just came with my son. I found that even though I was of the right age, I didn’t fit with the single college age parishioners and since I wasn’t married I wasn’t really welcomed into the married with kids crowd either. I felt like a square peg in a round hole. If after a while I didn’t find fellowship and support at the church I was attending, I stopped going to that particular church and moved on. When I say I was seeking fellowship with likeminded people, I’m not saying I was looking for other single mothers or a single mothers group, I’m saying I was looking for fellowship with other Christians in general. Perhaps people had trouble reaching out to me because they didn’t fully understand what it’s like to be a single parent or because they felt they couldn’t relate. In my experience it was similar to what I imagine it feels like to become a widow except that you’re received differently. You’re both losing a spouse and you’re hurting. You are both in a huge grieving process. In both situations your children are grieving and confused. Not only is there a physical loss, but you have no spiritual head, you are financially and emotionally at a loss. Except with a death, people don’t assume that you did something wrong or that it was your choice. You don’t receive compassion when people hear that you are divorced that you would receive had your spouse passed away. When your spouse dies you have people reaching out to you, offering to fix the garbage disposal, wanting to be a male presence for your son. In no way am I trying to downplay what it’s like to become a widow/er, it’s not the exact same, but the comparison between the two situations and the way they are received may be helpful to those trying to understand what exactly single parents experience and what they are looking for in a church family. A lot of single parents that live in the area of your church plant need more than a single parents group where they can share their stories, they can find that anywhere. Many single parents must rely on public social services to help them get by. A church that is on the forefront of providing love and services to single parents and children in crisis in a neighborhood where divorced and unmarried parents are the majority is a rare thing. Getting enough food, getting legal advice forcustody or abuse issues, resume help and job leads are things that many single parents struggle with. Sometimes if their incomes are low enough they can qualify for public services to help and maybe they can put their children on the waiting list to get a “Lunch Buddy” at school or a “Big Brother/Big Sister” mentor. But what all of these public services are missing is love. The love of a Christian “Big Brother” or the love of a Christian business offering the former stay at home mom a temp job. Reaching out to people has to go further than handing them a program and showing them a seat. You’ve got to engage people, not see their differences as threatening but as a way to reach them.