The Perfect Imperfect House

It's half-past two in the morning, and I'm scrunched like a ball on our grey double-recliner, the final remnant of furniture we have in our living room area. Around me are two large, sturdy suitcases, one military-issue duffle bag, and two roller carry-on suitcases - all filled to the brim with our current supply of clothing, toiletries, nursing supplies, and baby toys - along with an unusually long cardboard box and a handful of cleaning supplies. It's safe to say that we are in the final stage of moving out of our sweet little home here in Anchorage, Alaska. The few things we have left - a third of a carton of eggs, our toothbrushes, my in-law's camping cookery, and Ruby's most essential play item, her Jumperoo, will all be coming with us later today, as we say goodbye to the first house that Ken and I bought together, just under two years ago.

A wave of emotion passes over me, as I consider the ways this house became a home to us in such a short time.

After years of saving (which Ken started long before we got married), we put a down payment on this house and in faith, stepped into a new season as homeowners one late January afternoon, in 2014.

It was here that we joyfully welcomed friends and family and neighbors - for vacations, birthdays, holidays, weekly community group, potlucks, and bbq's. Our neighbors became close friends to us, in such a short time. They are the kind of people we could call or whose homes we could walk over to, if we needed anything. What a huge blessing, especially during Alaska's dark and long winters - I knew that we were safe, and that people near us were happy to lend a helping hand if anything came up.

In this house, we spent countless hours playing tug-o-war, fetch, and tag with our first pup, Penny - our rambunctious rescue dog, with her larger-than-life personality and love for running. Our yard was great for chasing (or rather being chased) by our fun-loving dog, who only wished that we could stay out all day to play with her.

Two summers ago, it was here that I tested my limits for the first time, to see how strong I really was, and found out that through discipline, consistency, and God's grace, I could in fact run a half-marathon. I have many fond (and not-so-fond) memories of running long stretches of trail near our house, tightly clinging bear spray in one hand, praying that I'd never run into a bear or moose (which I never did on those long runs.) I conquered mental fatigue and my own inward demons during those runs. I pushed through, and realized that God could do way more in me than I had ever imagined.

It was here that I became a mom for the first time. On a lazy Saturday morning, in August of last year, I gently nudged Ken awake to the words, "I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a Daddy."

And this was the house we welcomed baby Ruby home to, once we left the hospital for the first time nearly 7 months ago. My precious gift from God, who taught me in mere seconds upon her arrival, about God's unconditional love and joy - how much He must love me, His child. Life is sacred, and I didn't understand that in the ways I do now, until holding my baby girl in my arms for the first time.

It was in these walls, that Ken and I cooked meal after meal of fresh-caught salmon that he skillfully collected while dipnetting last summer, another first for us.

Here, in our home, Ken and I practiced fighting for marriage (rather than against one another), as we worked through misunderstandings and arguments, sometimes - or oftentimes, battles that came up while we were cooking or cleaning in our little kitchen. Heated conflicts or "opportunities for growth," as Ken calls them, were resolved through extending grace, practicing time-outs, and striking compromises, along with bear hugs and realizing our need for forgiveness (or typically, my need for forgiveness.) We celebrated our fifth anniversary in this house, which is a testimony to God's faithfulness.

The past couple weeks, we've spent hours sorting, decluttering, packing, moving, deep-cleaning, and getting our house ready to sell. I've felt overwhelmed and anxious, scared but also excited, nostalgic and yet hopeful. I've cried myself to sleep a few times, replaying memories in my mind of all the "good things" that took place in this house. Particularly in regard to Penny. She was our first dog, and loved us deeply.

When I think about moving, I feel a deep sense of loss over Penny. In recent months, she's been increasingly neurotic, at times destructive, and always wanting more attention than I could give her with the baby. I've worked through feelings of shame and embarrassment, over us not being able to give Penny the life that she wants, and also processed the very real need that she has to be exercised more than I can do for her in this season. It's been one of the hardest decisions that Ken and I have had to make, but deep-down it's a decision that reflects our desire to give Penny what's best for her - a home where she is the main attraction. With heavy hearts, we are giving Penny to a sweet and adventurous high school senior who lives near us and the trail system that Penny enjoyed these past couple years. I think that Penny will be a great fit there.

Ken's Dad shared some words of encouragement that really stuck with me, as I continue to work through my sense of loss over Penny. He pointed out that perhaps Penny was meant to be our dog for a season, and now she is moving on to another great home. She was our gift for a time, and now we can share her with someone else. I'm so thankful for the blessing that Penny was to our family. Here's the story of how we got her, if you're interested.

In leaving Alaska, I'm excited to see how God meets us in this new chapter, as we move to Eastern Washington in just a couple short weeks. As I mentioned earlier, in this big move, I'm feeling overwhelmed and anxious, scared but also excited, nostalgic and yet hopeful.

Perhaps, though, I'm mostly hopeful.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

On How We Met, and 5 Things I've Learned About Marriage

Fragmented light filtered through our kitchen's newly-installed French doors, as I sat down to write a couple nights ago. The warm glow reminding me that the sun was getting ready to set. I watched Ken outside playing with Penny, our pup, in a rowdy game of fetch and smiled. Meanwhile, Ruby napped peacefully in her nursery, exhausted from dinner out, and I hoped that by her gearing up for bed an hour early, she'd welcome a full night's sleep sooner.

In that moment, I decided to step away from my computer and take everything in. As I've learned from these past few years of marriage, there are times to write and reflect and times to experience and engage. Both have their place. I snapped my macbook closed, and stepped outside. The warmer Alaskan evening felt refreshing. Penny saw me almost immediately and bolted toward our patio doors. She then threw herself into our half-filled kiddy pool before attempting to bear-hug me. Surprised by how quickly everything took place, I barely registered that our 45-lb border collie was trying to climb on me before it was too late. I was soaked. And felt gross, instantly. How long has that water been sitting there? I asked Ken, as my mind considered what parasites I might now be host to, thanks to Penny. 

As I played fetch and tug-o-war with our wild beast of a dog, I started to think about what a unique blessing this season is. In having an incredible, life-giving marriage, a healthy and strong baby girl, a cozy home, an energetic dog, the hope that we'll someday start sleeping at night again (perhaps in the near future), and an unshakable joy from knowing that God loves us and is for us and will take care of us, even if we didn't have these things. We are safe in Him. He's our ultimate hope and peace, and source of all good things. We are so very, very blessed.

Today is a special day. Five years ago, Ken and I were married at the Haiku Mill, a beautiful wedding venue that once housed an old sugar mill on the island of Maui, just a few minutes from where I grew up. It was my dream to get married in those ruins of a time long ago, and we were incredibly blessed by that opportunity. Here are a couple photos from our wedding day.

How We Met...

Our story begins a couple years prior to these photos, in October of 2008, the year after I graduated from college. I was 22 years old, on the cusp of my 23rd birthday, living on Maui when my cousin, Isaac, decided to pay a visit home during his military deployment to Korea. Isaac is my cousin who I'm closest to in age; he's like a brother to me. He was living overseas at the time with his best friend, Ken. The two of them were on leave together when I met up with Isaac at the County Fair, that fateful October evening. Immediately, I noticed that Isaac had a friend in tow, although he had never mentioned his friend coming to Hawaii as well. (Cue smiling, here.) 

Photo from the County Fair, 2008

Ken and I hit it off right away - kinda/sorta - in that, I pegged his sense of humor as "caustic" and quickly offended him, when in actuality, I didn't realize that my choice of words wasn't the best way to start a relationship. Ken forgave me, thankfully, and after our week of hanging out, he and Isaac got back on a plane and left. Unsure of what the future held for us, I said goodbye and yet struggled to get Ken off my mind in the following days and weeks. I was living on Maui, working at a hotel on the beach, while Ken was in the military, and could be sent anywhere around the world at any given time. What could really happen between us? I'd think to myself. 

Not long after the two boys left, Ken contacted me via Facebook and we started messaging each other. One thing led to another, and within a couple weeks, we moved on to actual emails and then phone calls. I was so ridiculously nervous in those early months of our blossoming friendship. But once we started talking, I felt like time stood still. We could talk on the phone for hours at a time. All my cell phone minutes were depleted by talking to a boy who lived halfway around the world. He was as remote as I could imagine, I thought, until one day he told me that he was getting stop-lossed and sent to Iraq. They needed him for intel work, he said. Scared and uncertain, I continued to pursue our friendship even though I feared that he could get hurt, living in a war zone. God met us both in those times, and challenged me to live in faith and pray for this guy that I was starting to really like. 

One of my favorite things about our relationship at the time, was in how Ken pursued me. He met me on my level and wrote me hand-written letters on a weekly basis, which spoke deeply to my heart. I love writing, and his stories were encouraging, affirming, and thought-provoking. Day-to-day adventures of life in Iraq fascinated me. I'd hang on every word, and then grab a pen and paper and write Ken back almost immediately. I loved running to my mailbox every day when I got home from work, just to see if I got another letter from my friend around the world. 

You can probably imagine what happened next. Our friendship turned into dating and then when Ken finally returned from Iraq after an extra year in the military, we got engaged and then married. We lived in Seattle for the first few years of our marriage and then moved to Alaska once Ken graduated from college. Our marriage has been a wonderful adventure, full of travel and exploration. We've visited nine countries outside of the U.S. together in only five short years. And beyond that, we've grown together through multiple challenges - along with a healthy degree of conflict - as we have learned how to love and serve each other well. 

In reflecting on our first five years of marriage, I compiled a list of things I've learned that stand out to me. These are things that I'm constantly learning and relearning. Marriage is a safe place where Ken and I are able to fail at any number of these and find grace and forgiveness, as we seek to glorify God through our relationship. 

5 Things I've Learned About Marriage:

1. Love is Worth Fighting For. Marriage is worth fighting for. This is something that my husband helped me realize early on in marriage. If we were ever going to make it in those first couple years, we needed to commit to fighting for each other, rather than against one another. We are partners, allies, and best friends. I am committed to respecting my husband and trying my best to build him up and not tear him down, especially in front of others. My husband is not the enemy - rather, sin, when it gets between us (either my sin or his), must be brought out into the open and named for what it is and asked to be forgiven of. So often, I'm in the wrong and choose to place blame on Ken, when in reality, we both really need Jesus. Communication, transparency, humility, and forgiveness are vital. 

2. Seek First to Understand Before Being Understood. Most of the time, the reason conflict escalates between my husband and me, it's because we're not on the same page. I'm not really trying to understand him; I just want to be heard. Once I sit down and really quiet myself and listen to what he's trying to say, suddenly so many of my insta-responses aren't worth sharing. I realize that in my defensiveness, I've failed to hear - really hear - what Ken is saying. I care about him, and I want to know him. What he thinks is important and valuable, and worth listening to, even if we don't agree.

3. Do the Small Things. This is something that my husband daily blesses me in - doing the small things. So much of marriage is doing monotonous tasks together (cleaning, cooking, bill-paying, etc.) and Ken does these things with so much love. Chivalry is not dead, contrary to that modern phrase. My husband still holds my hand when we walk together, opens doors for me, and stops what he's doing when I have a question. He shows me his love through action - "small things with great love," as Mother Theresa would say. 

4. Invest in your marriage. Within our first year of marriage, Ken and I were struggling with heated misunderstandings and conflict. Our "baggage" from the past kept coming to the surface and influenced our actions, causing tension. Together, we made the decision to start attending weekly marriage counseling. We committed to making our marriage a top priority, and spent the same amount of money on weekly counseling sessions as we did on groceries. I can say with confidence that this was money well-spent. Although many sessions included lots of tears and frustration (mostly mine), God enabled me to work through some very painful memories from my childhood as well as unhealthy patterns that affected our marriage. Praise God for showing me that life could be so much better than I ever imagined. I learned, perhaps for the first time in my life, that I could be responsible for my actions and choose to live a better way. For myself and for Ken. 

5. Be Present. In the end, it won't matter how many Facebook "likes" my profile picture got, or whether I made-it-big, or if I'm popular on Instagram -- what matters is how I treat the people in my life, the people that God has placed along my path and blessed me with. I want to be a great spouse, an amazing mom, a loyal friend - the kind of person who you can call for encouragement, rather than someone who finds out your most important news via social media. A great illustration of being present is how Ken encourages me to put my phone down when we are having quality time, in order to focus on each other - to savor the moment and the conversation we get to partake in, without the whole world listening in. There is a time and place for sharing as well as treasuring things with your spouse and family.

What a marvelous journey we're on!
Happy Anniversary, Babe!