Marriage

...now browsing by category

Things about married life

 

Hope Community dinner

Tuesday, June 7th, 2011

When Drew and I got married, we decided to use our wedding as a way to reach out to others. Read this post to see how.

Well, life gets in the way, like it always does. It took us almost three years, but we did it. We finally followed through with the vision we had of providing dinner at Hope Community. My loving husband took care of all the details, including meal planning and shopping. We decided to serve the same meal we had at our wedding; chicken salad bar (with all the fixings), and hot dogs for the kids. We even had a sheet cake for our “wedding” cake and the chocolate fountain that had been at our reception.

I met Drew at Hope Community. He had gone to Costco to pick up the majority of the food items, and I had stopped at Publix for a few other things. He had given me directions, and I drove my car through unfamiliar streets, feeling a little uneasy as the surroundings looked nothing like my little white picket fence neighborhood. People began looking “shiftier” and I made a mental note to be sure to lock my car when I arrived.

Drew met me at the side door of the kitchen as I dropped off groceries and then I went back to the car to pick up the chocolate fountain. While I was walking, I was approached by a man looking for a few cents for bus fare. I am always uneasy when hit up for money. I want to help, and usually feel guilty if I don’t. But I know that they are probably not going to use the money for what they say they are. Drew has told me that he will give money to homeless guys and tell them, “It’s on your head if you use this to buy drugs!”

I ended up doing what I normally do, and mumbled something about not having anything to give. I avoided eye contact and made it back to the building. Guilt crept in, but I reminded myself that I am a skinny white girl that would easily be tackled to the ground and robbed in the time I tried to pull the 23 cents from my purse. Besides, I was here to feed the hungry, not give handouts.

I tried to shake that from my mind and began washing and chopping vegetables. Drew and I worked quickly together, chatting here and there. We’ve gotten pretty good at working together in the kitchen, and have worked a couple other times preparing meals for large groups. I know that he’s in charge (he handles the planning part so much better than I do) and I just follow his lead. He’s amazing in situations like this.

We got down to crunch time, with only thirty minutes left, when one of our friends came to help out. Fred finished cooking the chicken and hot dogs while we got to work on the rest of the salad bar. By this time, four more friends showed up, and we began to sweat a lot less. Soon, everything was prepared and ready. We opened the door and invited the residents in.

Homeless people make me nervous. I know they shouldn’t. They are just people, like me. But they’re people in a completely different walk of life than me, with a totally different life experience. What does sheltered, always-provided-for-me have to offer them? I decided that dinner was the best thing I could offer them and continued to work.

Drew had me set up the chocolate fountain and handed the big pot of steamy, melted chocolate to Rocky, who had shown up to help. Rocky followed me out to where the fountain was plugged in. We poured the chocolate in as neatly as we could. As that delicious melted goo began to flow, I heard gasps of delight behind me. I turned and saw a table of kids pointing at the fountain.

“Oooooo!!!” they shrieked.

We set the plate of fresh strawberries and cookies next to the fountain, and returned to the kitchen to see what else needed to be done. The residents were already being served. I stepped back and just watched for a few minutes, taking a few deep breaths while I could. Some of them looked so rejected and despondent. I knew these people had probably endured struggles that I could never understand.

I realized that my heart went out most to the kids. Hope Community is different in that it reaches out to homeless families. These kid had no choice in homelessness. They were thrust into it.

I continued to watch as residents took their plates. Some of them seemed disappointed that there was only salad, but then others were overjoyed at the prospect of fresh vegetables, rather than bagged salad. One man came back to get artichoke hearts because he had missed them the first time. He loved artichoke hearts and hadn’t had them in forever. Others were overjoyed at the fresh strawberries on the fondue table, and simply took strawberries with no chocolate.

We did not have an opportunity to sit and eat with the residents, as we had hoped. The dining room was packed and there simply were no free seats. Part of me was disappointed, and part of me was relieved. I was feeling so nervous and out of my comfort zone that I don’t know how much conversation I could have made.

When it came time for cleanup, the wedding cake was almost all gone, and there was a slew of kids surrounding the fountain. One little guy that couldn’t have been more than two and half was covered in chocolate. I think he took a swim in it. Sticky fingers and chocolate stained cheeks had to practically be torn away so we could clean up. That thing was definitely a huge hit.

At the end of the night, the director of Hope Community came to Drew and told him that this had been the best meal they had had in a long time. I was shocked to hear that. Apparently fresh cut veggies, strawberries and chocolate fondue go a long way. Having been fed in large groups many times while on tour with the African Children’s Choir, I knew they must get a lot (and I mean a lot) of spaghetti and lasagna. I was determined to give them something better than that.

We walked out that night exhausted, yet fulfilled. I so wish that I could do more for the homeless, but I know that the simple act of feeding them means so much. It may not feel like much, but taking away that gnawing hunger helps them to move forward in their lives. I think Drew put it best: “We may not have changed their world, but we changed their day.” I think that’s all we can ask for.

Fireflies in the night

Wednesday, May 4th, 2011

On Sunday night, Drew and I were reading, unwinding, and getting ready for bed. We read our devotional together, turned off the lights, kissed goodnight, and snuggled under the covers.

As I was relishing in the squishiness of the memory foam, Drew said:

“What’s that blinky light?”

It’s probably the cable box or the smoke detector, I thought to myself. But as I looked up, I saw a new blinky light. It looked like a green LED light, and it was above our TV. And it was moving.

I burst out laughing. “I think it’s a lightning bug!”

Drew switched the bedside lamp on, and sure enough, a confused, lost little firefly was flittering around toward the ceiling. We looked at each other and burst out laughing. We wondered over how it got inside. Then he turned the light off and snuggled back into bed.

“You’re going to leave him?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Drew responded. “They’re harmless.”

Sure, I thought. “Let’s see if you think that when it’s flying in your face at 3 a.m.”

He laughed. We looked up at the ceiling, watching our newfound friend. Then he started getting crazy. The blinky LED light started flying all over the room, sporadic and berserk; desperate for a way out.

“Um…” I started to say…

“Yeah, that thing’s going to hit the fan.” Drew turned the light back on and we watched the helpless thing flail about. My manly bug killing husband set about the task of catching it, but not before he got a little video footage of it. I’m sure that will emerge on Facebook soon. Instead of killing it, Drew caught it in his cupped hands and I opened the sliding glass door so he could set it free.

“Funny,” I pondered. “Just because the thing’s butt lights up, we show mercy.” Normally we’re racing about the room after a bug, thwacking a shoe against the wall, screaming, “DIE SUCKER, DIE!!!”

Crisis averted, we settled back into bed and laughed about the situation. I told Drew that it was little things like this that made me love marriage. Those crazy stories that we share together. I told him when we’re 80, we’ll be recalling the night of the firefly.

One of the many reasons I love my husband

Monday, February 14th, 2011

My husband is very quick witted. Read his blog for a great story on exactly how quick witted he is. Go ahead. Click the link.

I can’t retell that story any better. I can say that it got a little warm in Ruby Diamond after his great comeback. And I also felt like an idiot when I realized that Bill Cosby wanted me to say “Hi,” or something when he called for me. I forgot that he was staring into blinding stage lights and couldn’t see more than a foot in front of him, so I sat there, grinning like an idiot and waving at him. Oh well. It’s probably best I kept quiet. Who knows if he would have gotten his zinger in if I hadn’t.

I love you baby. Happy Valentine’s Day. Thanks for making me laugh, as well as a couple hundred other people. Even Bill Cosby.

My love story

Tuesday, September 14th, 2010

This weekend I was on the lookout for a good picture that I’ve taken. Costco is having a photo contest, and I decided to enter it. I have a few pictures on my laptop, but I knew that Drew had the majority of my really good photographs. He found them on our desktop computer, and I sat down to spend maybe 20 minutes browsing through, looking for a good entry. Over an hour later, I was still there, looking at individual pictures, laughing and “awwing.”

Intermingled with all of the photos I’ve taken of scenery, cute nephews, and lightning, were our wedding photos. I’ve been wanting to find them and start scrap booking these shots, so I was especially excited to see them again. I laughed at forgotten shots and grinned at well remembered memories. I also found a slew of photos from our engagement photo shoot. Rather than pay someone loads of money to take a few cutesy pictures of us with my left hand ever so subtly exposed in every shot, we decided to do it ourselves. We set my Canon Rebel up on the tripod, and using the handy remote that Drew ordered off of eBay, we took shot after shot in Tom Brown Park. We even used some of them for our wedding invite. I forgot how many pictures we snapped to get a good one, and since I have the goofiest husband in the world, there were tons of outtakes. There were also serious ones, where we were gazing into each other’s eyes dreamily and laying tender kisses on each other’s lips.

Looking at these pictures reminded me of my love story and how cool it is. I told the majority of the story here before, but I started thinking about some of the other details this weekend.

– Faking an engagement three months into our relationship on April Fool’s Day. And fooling everyone way better than we expected. Our good friend and pastor told us, “Maybe the joke’s on you. We all know how perfect you are for each other.”

– Going away to Africa and Australia in the middle of our courtship. I received a package at one of the hostels in Australia. I opened it to discover a sweet letter, two CDs (one with romantic songs and some audio from my sweetie, and the other a relaxing ocean waves mix with foghorns in the background), and a ziploc baggie with a cotton square soaked in his cologne. *sigh* I looked up from my package to find four sets of eyes peering over the bus seats. The other aunties on the bus were quite impressed at my beau’s efforts.

– Coming home from that same trip to discover that he had written me a letter every day that I was gone. He dropped me off at my sister’s where I was staying, handed me a letter opener saying, “Here, you’ll need this.” He walked away, leaving me staring quizzically at the random object in my hand. I turned around to discover a huge pile of letters that was about to fall over. I ran across those letters when I was packing to move in December. I read through a few and smiled.

Drew will smile proudly when I remind him of some of these things he did. He will embrace me, look in my eyes, and declare, “It worked.”

I think often marriages start to crumble because the wife doesn’t feel so wooed anymore. The husband has his prize, and he doesn’t need to work to earn it anymore. Sometimes, when I start to feel this way, I remind myself of the many things my husband is doing now for me.

– Working two jobs to diligently pay down debt and build up financial security.

– Surprising me with way nice hotels and way nicer lingerie than I’d buy for myself.

– Buying a beautiful house that I love. Without him, I’d be living in a cheap apartment in a sketchy part of town. I sure couldn’t afford much without him.

– Never refusing a back massage when I ask for one. At least not that I can remember.

– Gives me encouragement and space to pursue things I love; writing, music, photography…

– Tells me, “I love you” about 80 times a day.

Some of these things can easily go unnoticed since they’re not as dramatic and romantic as a letter a day while I’m away. But I’m thankful for them, and know that my husband does them because he loves me.

Thanks babe. It’s still working.