his uncle makes saddles

 I'm trying to find the words I want to write

to help you feel happy about my husband, about knowing there are people like him, about the fact that you have or will have people like him in your life, too.

it probably shouldn't matter to you. but it could. 

if it mattered to you (that there are people like my husband) it would be because

He really loves his parents 

who have made some big big mistakes that have hurt him 

a lot.

he doesn't hold it against them. he loves them and helps me love them.

it would matter to you because

we live in a place and some people aren't proud of it anymore

but he is,

he wants to do anything and everything he can to protect this country

and the people living in it.

even if he doesn't know you.

does that matter to you?

that someone wants to leave his family for a little while, repeatedly, to help protect you (who he doesn't know)? Put his life on the line, for you and for your freedom?

it could matter to you 

that he is humble and humble

and relentlessly good

he apologizes and tries to learn as he messes up.

he's gone through a lot to fix those mess-ups, because 

what God wants is more important to him

than anything else.

And he thinks God wants him to be humble and kind and to love his family.

does that matter to you?

does it matter to you that you could trust him to do what is right no matter the consequence? 

how about that he would seek to know if he was wrong, so that he could make it right?

that he would put you, and his family relationships, as his top priority?

does it matter to you that when he laughs his whole face becomes smiles wrinkles and creases,

that he loves his sisters and tells them they're beautiful and watches their backs,

that his brother is his best friend and 

that he accepts people, and loves them, and that this actually helps them become better, no matter how they've messed up?

probably not. 

it matters

 to me

that he is one extraordinary person 

out of many,

he is one person with so many hurts and flaws and rough edges and maybe those

make his goodness more sincere.

It matters to me

that there are many people who are like him

and I hope they are in your homes

and I hope you notice them and

I hope they notice you

and I hope you give them time and love and a listening ear,

I hope you know you're one of them.

...

As much as my husband matters to me

you matter to someone else,

probably to many someones.

keep going,

be humble

be kind

be good,

it matters

.

now

 there will always be limiting factors.

once, i had perfect sunny days but surgery on my leg kept me the couch.

once, you had perfect health but that thunder storm outside.

we've both had the storms inside and felt them hurt and felt them hurt and felt them heal.

now is no different. look up, and smile, 

we'll get through it :)

thoughts before homework

 Honestly?

I'm sitting in my apartment alone and my feet are getting colder. My husband's on campus doing homework and I have two assignments that will be due soon and that I haven't started,  so this is normal, of course I'm on my blog. 

we're thinking about buying a house. 

we're thinking about getting a dog. 

I'm worried about my mom. 

My husband's worried about his. 

We're trying to avoid politics because we get really really stressed about that lately. 

If we buy a house that would be really cool.  We're waiting to get pre-approved and that's taking... longer than expected. 

I didn't want a dog and then 3 days ago we went to my in-laws and they have ... go figure, the cutest husky puppies. And they said we could have one for free? :)

My mom isn't very happy and her life seems to have been crumbling over the past few years. My dad is getting remarried and is happy, but my mom has been struggling for what seems like ever.

My husband has family with a lot bigger hurts than my family does. Size of hurt is relative, it all hurts. 

And politics has been consuming. My husband is going into the military and that means working for the government and that they control his life, kind of. So politics and the future worries me sometimes.

I've done some crying. 

But just a couple days ago life felt like heaven... 

we were at my husband's cousins' and they live on some little farms in Idaho and have SO many animals, and they're cowboys and work on feedlots, and are such good people... his uncle makes saddles, beautiful ones from scratch, they have a whole pack of dogs and so many pigs and piglets, sheep, burros, goats, bunnies, quail, chickens and roosters, ducks, a calf, lots of horses, chameleons and a gecko, lots of guns and ammo and puppies, and it was so nice to be there. So really really nice.  

Yesterday during church someone talked about positivity and finding the good as the world seems to be getting more and more crazy, and I was reminded of being on my mission and fighting for positivity and happiness, and slowly winning the fight with a lot of heavenly help. 

It is now time to choose happiness, to choose hope, to choose positivity because sure things are crazy, but they've been crazy before. They've been crazy before for us, and they've been crazy elsewhere, historically; we would be the exception if we didn't go through some chaos in life. Now is the time to be intentional and have hope and work hard, be close to God and still be grateful and happy. I know that God will help us. Life can be so beautiful and people are still so incredible at the times when things seem to be falling apart. I don't want to be blind and feeling down in such a beautiful world with good people, and especially with a perfect Savior. The good is real and powerful. The world is getting crazier, so maybe it's even more important to have "eyes to see" -- eyes that see good, that see God, beauty, opportunity, and happiness.

career day

18 years of school, but 1st grade me 

had it right all along: 

she's clenched her fist around an expo marker, 

she's writing out my dreams during reading time,

on the whiteboard, archaic carpet pressing patterns into her knees, 

she's writing a story, a story about wanting to write.

I am currently at 1:22 on a Tuesday

due dates are shouting

about tomorrow, tonight, this week and next. But 7 weeks from now my eternal cycle of studenthood will end, 

for me, 

for now. 

I had some basic assumptions:

I always thought his eyes would be blue,

I thought I would have a baby by now, 

I thought I would write books. 

just being honest.

I always wanted to write books but here I am, repeatedly sentencing myself to not write books.

It's kind of dreadful.

The career lady talked a lot about graduate degrees, and I heard expensive and not what I want to study. She talked about accreditation. Valid points. I'll probably pursue them. 

Meanwhile, the same dream will keep welling up inside me and telling me to write. 

2 months from now graduation will come and go and 18 years will come and go and will have filled me with a come and go of 

papers in hand, pen ink staining that callous that forms from holding a pencil, fingerprints feeling better when i'm writing, hands sporting lunch stamps and holding books and turning pages, creasing the corners of my favorites,

a come and go of stories whose power makes my skin crawl, about death in 1860s America, of civil war; about Mumbai and barefoot boys, fighting for trash scraps and a school; about Jack London and his Call of the Wild, of dogs and wolves running the night.

this come and go has filled me up with time and calculus and teachers who I love and

now,

again,

the girl remembers she wants to write. 

some time

sometimes I remember one specific sunset and wish
for that microscopic 

moment

& for the vital things like heavy blankets, grass-covered toes, and the black notes on a piano.

sometimes I have all those things but forget about the tree 

bark we collected, it was intricate and left wood powder on my book,

about our first summer dives into that pool and about how I gradually became used to holding your hand. 

I don't know how it happened. But

some times I'll remember all that
makes the good things become more like real things 

the colors in your eyes more important than the stressors... 

sometimes my heart spills out 

normally, down my arms, rolls across my wrist, off my fingers, and stumbles out, away and toward the green 

trees

the mountain 

the quiet wild and it all says I do good to let my heart 

go 

first

(more often),

the rest will follow

it's normally there

that I feel God touch me 

y'see he's the wind

and his voice rustles the trees and whispers about letting 

my heart stand up 

more often.

"Look up"

but I wanna look down and

see myself 

from above, 

live in thinner air and clearer skies,

and watch peoples' eyes when they look up at God.

from everett mills

weasel face.

(today is) 

clouds 

out my window in my head

(tomorrow is) 

rain on my roof

smells fresh clears up my brain

then (summer) 

90 degrees and swimming 

(we'll be back then back to work)

and the weather is always asked to be an excuse

the sky is always carrying interference and Light

she is the ocean

we live on her ocean floor

we can't swim, we just look upward at the marine life and 

play i spy with the floating mashed potatoes

call me whimsical

but I will listen to old jazz

and smell pines.

one of life's
wrinkles
(gentle, smile creases)

is to sit among flowers and feel wind brush my face. 

I don’t want to write it down because I want to relearn over and over, often.

it will always be true.

guesswork: 1 - 5

1.
I can't: just be with you forever
Not practical: to be always hugging you 
I'm not "in the zone:" you make me think differently
I'm at home: you're working full time 
FaceTime: the best we can do for now.

2.
I guess: this is a season of hard work and it'll pass
I guess: there are seasons of pain when hurting is part of life
I guess: I have to focus on other things
I guess: I can learn to be happy even when I'm not with you all the time
I guess: I never thought I would have to

3.
I'm naive? and learning I have to suck it up
I want things? and sometimes I can't have them
Life? lots of hard work and things we don't want to do but need to do
Throwing a tantrum? I have been and it won't get me what I want
What I want? I won't want long-term

4.
If we could be together all the time
If you weren't always selling
If you weren't going to flight School
If you would never be deployed
If I never had to worry that you'd never come home

5.
We'd have other chains, ones that do less good for us and others.
The tree in front of me is green and real and tall and still,
I have enough food and water and air and kind people for now,
When I go outside the breeze will tell me that God is thinking about me.
Cut our teeth, pay our dues, commit to the season, breathe in. 

I'll try to smile, slowly, until I feel it become real. 

i collect feet

froze my toes

painting the nursery

halloween

two man band

wandering the Jewish quarter

green valley gap 

May 16th

little brother's shoes

first night in Jordan

Galilee

5:43 AM

Gardeners

How am I the one sitting inside? 

Tall ceilings, large windows, swimming pool. 

I eat an apple, read for my college class, at a wooden desk in a vaulted and air conditioned room. 

How are you the one outside? 

Big hands, under the sun, clothes well worn, dirt-stained, sweaty. 

You are focused on the lawn mower, the edging, outside the window you stride and watch the grass grow shorter. 

Flowers hang like clusters of jellybeans on vines, color climbs roses up the wall,

and you snip things in the flowerbed below.

You are more valuable than what you are gardening

to me

do you know?

how did it come to be this way,

that I type away at 3:00 and snack on fruit,

and

you look in my window and smile.

two gift registries

we would love

a giant sleeping bag

nice + fun + useful kitchen things

family peace

grand piano

raspberries

climbing gear

Mom's copy of Fablehaven

paid rent

plane tickets to anywhere in Africa

stepmom's health while she has twins

a massage gun

tan minus the tan lines

time for carving hymnbooks

wild delphiniums and stargazer lilies

a trip to lagoon

more time to relax

insta-heal for my foot

open temples

Sister to feel really really loved

dark chocolate + fruit

happier, forgiving moms

more optimism

...

we already have

really nice hands

foam roller + massage equipment

siblings

good books

family with pianos

lotsa books

lotsa laughter

several guitars

smile wrinkles around eyes + mouth

fuzzy socks

crutches

chewed nails

the prettiest mountains

blossoms

a trip to California

crazy hair

troll feet

wise relatives

raspberries

... 

...

 ...

I collect hands

Rock Canyon + Hebrew

climbing somewhere

the Pacific

Autriche

sweet potato carving

my desk

cathedral of the madeline

christmas eve

gospel study

Mary and Baby Jesus

Lists cont.

a weather forecast:

corona virus and true love. 

Kid with smile wrinkles:

a basic need but not at all basic

your laugh is the warmest thing I can think of right now 

I don't know much about love but I know it has something to do with you

what I need for quarantine:

food  

toilet paper & 

you

e.m.

learning

i had a question

raised my hand empty but grasping 

For an answer that went over my head.

Two by two they came and went with Noah

Neither the man without the woman nor the woman without the man

It is not good for man to be alone

I always felt

That I was 

Happy where I was.

But now feels different.

I felt happy.

Now I know 

I am more. 

Answers were in the soil

Knelt to the earth

Knuckles brown, fingerprints covered, 

Waited and I

Am a different person 

fingerprints covered by yours. 

how it feels to be 22 in an airplane

the Menu:
a small can of orange juice,
pretzels.
chocolate samples please.

All my life I've written about being INCOMPLETE
getting lost in thought wondering about your eye color (they were going to be blue)
fishing
for premature feelings and words that don't exist yet
because no other catch would fill those holes.

Incompleteness tickles. Its a funny state of being and it grows on you like
a fungus,
its victims live in 2+ places at once and
it's
a thief that way, cutting people in half
I've always been cut in half

but there's so much to write about

when it feels like I've always been sitting in a laundromat waiting for you.
the bells will ring as you open the door and your shoes will trace my footprints over the unswept floor and they'll walk to me and you'll sit down and
those holes holding my better half back will
fill up
with
your
smile

Incompleteness won't let me see your face.

Instead this window becomes thousands of trees
we are landing a plane in front of them
they choose to look at us
us
in our laundromat
us
in this landing plane,
on another flight
us
as my feet
us
as my thoughts
are magnetized to the ground.

i am looking

close your eyes.
when you open them, look left,
out the window:

someone has spilled poinsettia leaves and pumpkin peels across the horizon.
I'm sitting next to you, keeping the colors from slipping through my hands

colors tasting of Bahamian sunburned lips and, faintly,
of cranberry juice.

we watch
amazed
as unseen hands pour carrot soup over the horizon
and dunk the world beneath poinsettia skies.

i am looking at air dyed red and orange and coral
i am looking from flight DL1928 to Atlanta
i am looking to be taught why sunsets matter when hearts break and flesh bleeds.

Blood, from a lamb.
spread across
a horizon like it was spread across
door posts in Israel like it flowed
on a roman cross and there shall be no more.

no more blood no more pain no more death

i am looking at a sun as it slips off the edge of the world,
feeling peace, and it fills up my heart
and overflows into the ocean below.