Living in a college dormitory with 650 freshmen is something you don't just "woopsy" into.

I'm not sure how often you hear people say this about their jobs (or how often you think this about your own occupation), but... I love my job. I get to impact, love on, and goof off with college students on a daily basis. I'd take that over a "normal day job" any day. Except, maybe, when I'm trying to sleep and 18 year olds are outside my apartment UN-EMBRACING their INSIDE voices.. Then i want a normal job. Or a baseball bat. Or just lots of sound proofing. And some wine maybe. Oh! Or a puppy! Wait no, puppies and freshmen are pretty much the same thing.  

All that to say, it's that time of year I'm reminded how terribly dramatic it can be for some human beings in this world to be expected to live with a roommate... or "alien life form", as, I'm sure, some of them refer to their strange-mannered roommate. 

The past seven years I've had several roommates pretty consistently, and OH AUNT JEMIMA, I don't think I've ever stopped learning how to successfully live with someone else. Here are the TOP THREE things I've learned along the way that really helped me out.

In conjunction with the rawness I attempt to convey in this blog, I'll be honest from the get-go: what I've learned has come mostly from my failures as a roommate, not from my successes. 

1. Unspoken Expectations will always go unmet. My boss, Eugene, says this at least ten times a day and we all love/hate him for it because he's super duper right. SUPER DUPER RIGHT. A moment that stands out to me as a "Wow, we really didn't communicate our expectations" moment, is when Brett and I went on our first anniversary trip to my Aunt and Uncle's Bed and Breakfast out in small town Texas. We had planned to stay there three days but we hadn't talked about what we were hoping to do on that trip. I was hoping to read, take lots of baths, blog, journal, watch movies, eat out, and do some antique shopping. I was also hoping to drive through the outdoor nature center near by. I had mentioned my "wants" a few times to Brett, but really hadn't asked him what he wanted out of the trip. I had a set of expectations of what our trip would look like, and honestly, he had a completely different set of expectations (a set that didn't involve us spending lots of money, which was totally understandable, but not anything close to mine). Part of that trip was just frustrating for us and I remember Brett pulling the car off the road so I could cry and get my frustrations out. So right then and there on the side of the road, we set out what we wanted the rest of the trip to look like. We are still learning how to communicate expectations. We always will be. Whether it's how clean the house needs to be, what time alone together looks like, if we want the other person to go to the coffee shop with us or not, etc. We will both disappoint each other if we don't communicate our needs and listen to the needs of each other.

2. Living with an introvert or an extrovert matters. When you gloriously move past freshmen year and are finally given the opportunity to choose your roommate(s)--- choose a personality you can handle coming home to. Sophomore year in college, myself and three other girls lived in an apartment that had a palm tree outside the front door. I remember building forts out of blankets and sheets, eating cajun chicken pasta, and watching every season of Friends with them. We called ourselves the Super Single Ladies and made bets on who would get married first. They got me a pinata for my birthday. They were some fun girls. I'm not sure I was the girl they thought they were planning on living with though. I was crazy, extroverted, and energetic my Freshmen year, but changed a lot over the summer and came back to my sophomore year of college a lot more introverted than my roommates remembered me. I'd spend a lot of time outside our apartment on coffee dates or hanging out with the leadership team I was a part of, so when I came home, I just needed to be alone. I needed to unwind, think, and re-energize by being alone. But my roommates expected me to come home, talk, and re-energize by being with them. Unfortunately, I wasn't very good at communicating my need for "me time" (it's super sad when you take into account I was a Communication Major) with them so I often just came off as frustrated, annoyed, or uninterested in hanging out with them. I'm sure I was frustrating and hurtful. Maybe you'll choose to live with extroverted roommates even though you're an introvert. I think it's totally do-able as long as you learn to communicate with them when you need to just do you and be alone. 

3. Everyone's "clean" is different. My friend, Shank, says something like, "If the farm is successful, then the barn's gotta get messy". Living in your home means it gets messy sometimes. While Brett was gone for three weeks, most of the items in our house stayed in one place. I loved it. But if I had to pick Brett or a ridiculously over-pristine-looking apartment, I'd choose Brett. I'm not sure what it is, but when Brett is home, I tend to leave my clothes around a lot more and he tends to leave his books around a lot more and our house just seems to get wrecked a whole lot more. I've learned I can waste a lot of energy trying to clean up the house when I come home every day, when, sometimes, I've just needed to compromise my standard of clean. I'm overly nit-picky. And it's stressful to myself and to Brett when I want everything in it's place always. Why is that piece of paper out on the counter? The counter won't look clean. Why is that cup left there? No one's drinking out of it so why is it out? It needs to go in the sink. I have five pairs of shoes in the living room and three in the kitchen. His bag is in that chair again- no one will be able to sit there if we have people over. All these ridiculous thoughts go through my head- and they are silly. Maybe this tip is really more about compromising than cleaning, but I think you get my point. :) 

Because he sent me this from across the room with a smirk on his face. 

This past month, Brett and I became an Aunt and Uncle for the first time, and, in our excitement to have a niece, we told everyone how pumped we were for our new roles. And, of course, in response to our excitement, that age old glance-for-a-baby-bump question, "When are y'all going to have kids?", made it's way into our lives more than a few times. I've just accepted it. You get married and people start asking you when you're going to have kids. Bam. Boom. Pow. So I'll leave my answer to this question (as well as the mental processing behind it) right here in a blog post. 

Back in high school, I vividly remember driving home from the grocery store with my mom, and, in the middle of our talk, I confessed, in a "need to blow steam" blurt-spurt: I really didn't want to have kids. I'm not sure if "I don't want to have kids" is really something you should blow-steam-blurt in front of the woman who worked so hard to love and raise you, but I just needed to talk it out.

In that moment, I knew I wanted to get married (because boys were one of my only muses in high school it seemed--- am I the only one?) but I didn't want marriage and kids.

Nuh-uh, no way.

Nothing about having children excited me. After a few bad babysitting experiences, kids left me totally drained and confused. I was unimpressed with the idea of motherhood, so I decided kids were frustrating creatures I didn't want to dedicate my life to. Ever. At fifteen, the idea of spending 18-25 years of your life taking care of human beings you have no excitement or passion for, can be overwhelming and almost repulsive. And so it was with me.

I had a lot of girl friends who talked about how stoked they were to one day be moms---that's all they wanted on their "Hello, My name is" name tags--- "Hello, my name is Mom". I heard people at my church talk about motherdom as if it was something that would eventually happen in my life, as if it was some natural expectation that I would grow up, marry a seminary driven pastor, and have a series of blessed pregnancies. I wondered if I was the only one who secretly didn't want to live up to that expectation.

WELP...My confession had barely come out of my mouth when my mom turned to me and angrily spouted, "You're gonna want to change your mind about that. If you want to get married, you need to ask God to change your heart about having kids." 

I looked on her words with disgust for a long time. Not really the part about God, but the part about changing my mind. When your'e in high school and you disagree with your mom about something, your pride keeps you frustrated with her for awhile because you just don't want her to be right, and, in that moment, I really didn't want to believe what she'd said. I love my mom, revere her character, respect her patience with me, and love the encouragement she is in my life. I'm even grateful for the moments she responded angrily at me-- cause they helped me understand the seriousness of what I was saying. After loads of babies-kids-family conversations with my mom and other women, I understand her love for motherhood and I was probably too passionately against something she was so passionately for back then. 

Even nowadays I still struggle with what she said. Sometimes I wonder if I'm just being selfish and don't want the responsibility of family life. Sometimes I already feel like I'm taking on that responsibility just in a different way, as a parent/sister/mom/friend to the college students I work with. Some days I struggle to believe Brett and I are called to have kids. And on the flip side, I think it's strange to see us not entering into a period of life we can grow and serve our own little Stine family. 

What I really love about the tuggings of my heart through the years in regards to having a family, is God has changed my heart towards motherhood in leaps and bounds since that conversation with my mom, and I find myself thinking about how I would want to raise my own kids. And yes, I know, everybody says your heart changes when you have your own kids anyway. I'm all in for that, it just might not be for awhile. 

I still get squirmy feelings in my stomach when people ask Brett and I when we are planning on having kids, because I feel like most couples have an answer. Sometimes I spit out something like "five years from now we might" or "When Hogwarts agrees to send my kids a letter, that's when!" But lately I'm trying the honesty answer, "When and if we are called to. That's when." 

For now, I'm enjoying the time we have loving on college students. The time we have babysitting kids of those in our Homegroup. The time we have watching our brother and sister-in-law parenting their first kiddo. The time we have to be Aunt and Uncle. I'm enjoying this season, a season without kids, we are in. 

"And the surviving remnant of the house of Judah shall again take root downward and bear fruit upward. For out of Jerusalem shall go a remnant, and out of Mount Zion a band of survivors. The zeal of the Lord shall do this." 2 Kings 19:30-31

Take root downward and bear fruit upward. 

 

Today I was asked, "What are your personal strengths?"

Immediately I mentally listed them off:

• I can do about two pushups.
• I'm really good at buying coffee.
• I'm a boss at daily misplacing the I.D. that gets me free meals and access to my building.

I asked Brett what he thought my strengths were and he started to list off a bunch that made me feel super giddy and in love with him. I'm pretty sure my face faded into a shade of lover's embarrassment, so I just gave him kisses for awhile after that because I was so smitten with his answers.

And then I intentionally decided not to ask him the other question I was asked, "What are your personal weaknesses?" because, well, I don't think that list would have produced very many kisses.

Questions about strengths and weaknesses are almost the equivalent to meeting a celebrity for me. I honestly love KNOWING and talking about my strengths. I pride myself in being inrapersonal, reflective, and familiar with myself. I love understanding what makes me tick. I love knowing my strengths and weaknesses. I love flourishing in the gifts I've been given and figuring out how to walk this earth with the gifts I lack. But I also get the temptation to always want to focus on what we just can't get right.

I've heard people say it's difficult to love others if you don't know how to love yourself. I think part of learning to love yourself, is by looking at what you're good at. And if you have trouble coming up with a list, the best people to ask about your strengths are those you're closest with. A few years ago I was given an assignment that FORCED me to ask others what it was about me, that made them love me for me. After hearing their answers, I remember being so encouraged and confident to walk in who I am.

One of the gifts I love about me, is my creativity. I LIVE my days for opportunities to use my creativity, whether that's relationally doing something out of the ordinary with or for someone else, crafting all day long, or spending a good chunk of my evening writing out a blog post. I crave those opportunities.

The picture above is a card I conjured up for my brother-and-sister-so-wonderful-in-laws and their soon to be pop'n-out-of-the-oven-baby, Moriah Jane. I took joy in making that card. I rejoice that I've been given the creativity to make something small and temporary like that card, come into fruition for the delight and excitement of others. I think that's the best part of personal strengths, really learning to take joy in them.

Bob Goff says it this way, "I think God speaks something meaningful into our lives and it fills us up and helps us change the world regardless of ourselves and our shortcomings... He hopes we'll start to see ourselves as His beloved rather than think of all the reasons that we aren't."

What are your personal strengths? Are you letting them give life to you so you can give life to others?

Hope your week is filled with more than two pushups!

Stace-Face

P.S. I also read this article by Jen Hatmaker that a lot of my really cool friends have started sharing and I wanted to jump in on the coolness and share it too.

"It's going down, I'm yell'n timber, you better move, you better dance." -me to Brett, every day all the time."I'm sorry." -me to Brett, every day all the time.

"Can we just take a few minutes to snuggle before we do [insert activity here]?" -me to Brett, every day all the time.

"Kisses." -me to Brett, every day all the time. This is not me asking him to kiss me, this is me telling him I need a kiss.

"The best thing about marriage is you, Babe." -me to Brett.

"We're gonna go home, I'm gonna go to the bathroom, get in my comfies, then we're gonna watch SPACE JAM!" -Me to Brett on the way home from the coffee shop the other night.

"WHAT!!??? Nooooo..... YEAHHH!!" me to Brett, when he suggested we eat cheddar popcorn while watching Space Jam

"DON'T GOOOOO WASTING YOUR E-MOOO-TION, LAY ALL YOUR LOVE ONNNNN MEEEE." me to Brett, because everybody needs Mamma Mia passionately sung to them in a public parking lot.

Brett and I vowed that only death will part us.

When I really think about that vow for too long my eyes widen and sink back into my skull as if I'm trying to look at our live and marriage in full but can't get far enough back... I wonder how long we have till death parts us.  Some days death seems so close, and some days it seems like a dream, far and fuzzy. I honestly think 'Till death do you part" is supposed to be overwhelming, unexplainable, and fear-inducing... because then it leaves room for the kind of love that's work, the kind of trust that takes time, and the kind of awe that points to God.

On our rainy wedding day, Brett and I covenanted "death in love, not death of love." And how abundantly we believe that we (and those around us) will live if we pursue one another in the ways in which we believe we were created to... never to let a "creeping separateness" as Sheldon Vanauken would call it, slowly come between us as the years go by.

I thought I'd share a few marriage decisions we made before we were married (and a few made since we've been married) in our fight for "death in love".

If life circumstances are permitting, we get into bed at the same time every night. He gets his homework done before bed so he doesn't have to stay up late working on it and I try my best to leave my work at work  so I can be present during this sacred time. So if I'm in bed at ten, he's there too, even if I end up falling asleep while reading next to him, we're there together. To cuddle. To talk. To get on the same page. To read the Harry Potter series out loud. To be still.

We won't call each other out in front of other people. I know how deeply this would hurt Brett if I called him out for doing something wrong, embarrassing, rude, or mean in front of others. Even if Brett or myself is in the wrong, bringing it up in front of others isn't the place. And let me be straight with you: Its tempting to bring it up right then and there, because being married to the person that said something stupid in front of everyone else immediately associates you with the stupid thing they said. You feel responsible. You wonder if everyone else thinks you're okay with that stupid thing they just said. Calling them out, even if we think it would make our spouse learn his or her lesson...would crush them. Pulling Brett aside, going into another room, talking to him about the situation afterwards; those are all ways I can show him respect without deflating his identity. He cares so deeply of what I think of him, and if his friends or colleagues see me put him down or argue with him in front of them, he loses self-esteem and confidence that is important to who he is. I can see the look of joy on his face when we are in front of others and I mention how grateful I am for him or how excited I am about what he's doing in our lives and marriage. This might sound simple, but I can't tell you how often in my lifetime I've observed couples who do this with each other and one of them ends up deflated and hurt. How often I'm tempted to nag Brett or get onto him for saying something I think he shouldn't have said in front of the company we are in. How often he works diligently to not criticize a decision of mine in front of my students or colleagues.

Choosing better, not bitter. My mom taught me this one and I'll forever cherish these words because they are some of the most difficult words to live out. Oftentimes, when expectations are not met, bitterness can creep in, making the heart seep with loathing & regret, sucking life from it's dweller and anyone they surround themselves with. That goes for marriage, friendships, work relationships, and family relationships. Already in my life, and especially in my marriage, I have been dealt cards that make me want to turn bitter towards my circumstances or situation. For short seasons of our marriage I've chosen pity parties and bitterness instead of choosing to positively take steps forward, accepting the hand I've been given. When I choose joy and choose to move forward (not loathing myself or Brett) I am living in the love I covenanted to Brett. When I choose to not regret and not just cope with my circumstances, I am choosing to live freely in the present for the sake of the joy-filled future. We could waste our lives being bitter towards each other. Many people do. We are choosing not to.

No blame or grudges. Pointing fingers at each other or blaming our circumstances on the actions of the other person (even if they did do something wrong or made a mistake) will be a temptation, but not an action. Brett will forgive me. He will offer me patience and grace when I mess up or even walk away from what we value or hold to be truth. He will continue to cheer me on, love me, and protect me as his wife like he vowed he would. And he will move forward with me, even if the consequences of my actions effect him. Blame leads to bitterness.

Date night. It's a mandatory must. Similarly to our going to bed at the same time, date night offers us a sacred time to slowly reflect on our week and ask, "How were you really this week?" or "Is our marriage making the most of this season?". Making DN a habit was easy for us after coming out of a long distance relationship, where busy schedules and intentional time to talk HAD to be scheduled. I need time to express my weekly reflections and I know Brett is unhindered in school work or tasks so he can freely listen and respond. And I care to know not just how Brett analyzed his week, but how he is feeling, which is sometimes hard for him to express without my asking. I love that date night gives us a space to do that. I value not just where his mind and heart are, but where his feelings are in relation to those things. This is a night where we attempt our best to not allow phones. Where we get off campus every now and then or order pizza in without feeling guilty about "being lazy" (because sometimes dates in are more of what we need than dates out). Where I beat Brett at MarioKart... most of the time.

Hospitality and Realness. Open doors, open homes, and open hearts. We desire to head up and initiate such deep and vulnerable community for those we live amongst and work with. That means being real with my students when Brett and I are having a difficult week. It means moving past surface conversations toward heart conversations that reach into joy, pain, and that sort of human authenticity we all secretly crave. It means taking them out to eat to celebrate or let them know that whatever circumstance they are in, we are for them. It's making posters in my apartment while watching Harry Potter. It's reaching out to hold their hand or play with their hair because that's what their mom used to do when they needed to know they were loved. If Brett and I are not doing these things with one another, we often are not doing them for others. We must have these in both our marriage and our community.

Brett and I have been off the grid lately like we do sometimes. Our hearts have been everywhere this February. We've delivered our hands and minds over to books and different creative projects and personally, my excitement for life has increased as I've been diving into the discipline of reading more and more. After reflecting on the past 16 days February has offered me, I've decided that this month has been one of the most difficult and challenging I've had this year... but one of the most rewarding I've had in my lifetime.

I had the best sick day I've ever needed a few weeks ago. I felt awful and chose to snot at home instead of snotting at work. I laid around all day, tired, sneezy, stuffy, and achy. And I read, from morning until night. The first day I've spent alone in a long time. To read was relaxing, peace-giving, thought-provoking, and healing. To look up from my book whenever I wanted to think, rest my eyes, or write something down. It was freeing. I wasn't pressed for time or exhausted after a long day, I was resting. And it was good. I will look back on that day with gratitude.

Woodworks went down last weekend when my dad helped me build a bar table. We repurposed a vintage ironing board my mom bought me a few months ago at a warehouse antique store that's only open on Saturdays and imports products only from Maine. We worked for hours and hours, and my dad was a strategist champ, working to convert the designs I saw in my head to the board. Brett and I still have yet to put it together fully, but I love that my parents, the ones who helped frame hospitality for me, helped me make something that will further Brett and I's endeavor to be hospitable to others. A table. to share with others. To make memories at. *And check out those cool glasses my dad had to remind me to take off before we walked into the hardware store*

We spent hours making this stump look prettier. It was a high maintenanced stump.

We skipped out on the end of the Super Bowl (and apparently didn't miss much) so we could toast champagne to the season finale of Sherlock as well as devour Brett's homemade sopapia Cheesecake. With the cheesecake dough Brett spelled out "Happy B-day" and I almost cried when he took it out of the oven. Every Superbowl sunday I celebrate the fact that I'm not searching for anything in this life to satisfy me. I celebrate that I'm not trying to save myself from fears or death. I celebrate that I'm not trying to prove to everyone or myself how capable I am. I celebrate that God found me, a girl who didn't have anything right, and that He gave me everything I needed- Jesus. We celebrated together, how wonderfully my life has been changed.

Brett and I dressed up for date nights out and dressed [sweats and t-shirts] down for date nights in. We miscommunicated and were frustrated with each other and I believed a lot of lies about myself and our marriage that God gently used Brett to combat. I walked in a lot of shame (and am often tempted to still), believing that I am not a good enough wife for Brett and that he is disappointed in what he got. I watched his tears fall as he watched his Bride shut down and turn off every time he assured me I was his prize and given to him by grace. I asked him if it frustrated him when he spoke truth to me and I chose not to believe it or trust it and he answered that it broke him. We hugged and talked for hours after I asked him to forgive me for being selfish and unbelieving and I remember feeling relief accepting his grace in my weakness. My self-tormented pity parties are hard work and defeating, but how humbling this marriage deal has been for me.

We took a look at where we are and how much we love what is going on around us and said thank you. For the timing. The people. The opportunities. The dreams already made true for us because we live in a dorm and love on college students. Thank you.

We went to our friend, Taryn's wedding and I was reminded of how grateful I was that she came to our wedding. She gave us a journal to write to each other in. "To write in and leave for the other to find". And we have done that many times since we've been married. Encouraging things. Things that are hard to say. Reminders. Prayers for the other person. Gratitude for them being in our life. This is a picture of her table decorations. They were gorgeous, and I am excited for the marriage adventure she's embarked on. We might have given her and her husband a journal to return the beautiful gesture.

Brett got accepted into a week long intensive Oxford program and we got even more excited about our Europe trip this summer. England, Amsterdam, places TBD... I can't wait.

I'm praying these words a lot lately, "And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved." Acts 2:47

Our lives have been so full. There are so many things I haven't mentioned that have made my heart soar over the past week or two, things that cannot be made public yet but are sweet, good, and a joy to walk through. It's a Sunday night, I'm tired and grateful to reflect on this month, this season, and this beautiful Presence ever before me.

"Love is holding hands, brushing teeth." -Brett Stine, brushing our teeth before bed, while holding hands.

"What's wrongggggg?" -Brett Stine, a few minutes before studying for his Latin quiz, chasing me around the house with an open bottle of whipped cream in his hand.

"I'm sorry." -Brett Stine, often.

"I like how you put on skirts in the morning ....and I really like them ...and then I think it's funny when you change into jeans later." -Brett Stine; on those 'I feel like wearing a skirt" days, but realize later it actually feels more like a "I can only handle jeans today" days.

"Remember how you said you can't remember what life was like before we got married? Well, I can't remember what life was like before we started eating six can soup." -Brett Stine, after finishing his 3rd bowl of six can soup in a span of two days.

1. Asked for letters of recommendation.

I feel kind of super ridiculous asking my professors for recommendation letters almost two years out of college. If you're SO done with your undergrad and think you have surpassed the phrase "the struggle is real" so much so that you would never even consider going to MORE school down the road, go ahead and do your "future Spock" a favor and ask one of your favorite/best professors for a letter of recommendation. You might (as in, you definitely WILL) need it for a future job or graduate degree. And it's best to get it when your professors have you fresh in their memory (because you did super awesome in their class, impressed them, participated in class dialogue, worked with them in an academic society, and went out to lunch with them a few times to glean their unequivocal wisdom, right?), instead of two years later hoping they haven't forgotten how much they liked you (Or how much you think they liked you :) ). Getting your letter pre-applying to jobs and grad-school also just makes you look super prepared. So, go. Do now.

2. Written thank you's to my professors.

This isn't because you're wanting to bribe them. Or maybe it is. It's because you really don't realize how necessary and great they were to you in college, and you wish you would have thanked them in the thick of it all. And sometimes, they could use a little love and encouragement in the thick of the chaos too.

3. Enjoyed FREE TIME like it was a box of peppermint Oreos.

Lately a lot of people in my life have had children. One of my "new mommy" co-workers was telling me last week that she has no recollection of what she did with her free time when she wasn't a mom... and it's only been a few months since her life got Fresh-Princed "switched turned upside down" with a baby. She's already forgotten what free-time looks like? I think back now and am amazed at how much wonderful free time I had in college. Free time to learn, to laugh, to go on adventures, to be carefree, to work, to not work, to grow, to reflect, to rest. Now I work a lot and am married and don't have as much of that. And I can't imagine if Einstein and I have kids what that will look like. But gosh I miss that college free time a lot sometimes. So enjoy it. And learn to use it well.

4. Gotten a scary internship(s).

My mom told me I needed to get an internship while I was in college, so in defiance, I tried my best not to get one. But what you should know, is that most colleges require internships. And if they don't, you really should pursue one anyway. IN college AND out. If you're like me, you tend to make life decisions that lead to easy escalator steps instead of rigorous climbs. I was SO afraid of what a real internship might require that I interned for the middle school youth ministry at the church I grew up at because it was easy to secure. And trust me, I probably learned more about myself that summer than any other summer. MIDDLE SCHOOLERS ARE ENERGY SUCKERS AND NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. BEWARE. I wish I had thrown myself into corporate fire or taken the difficult steps toward intimidating businesses or organizations. Pursue internships that makes you feel uncomfortable. Step into your vocational fears instead of away from them. Pursue opportunities you don't think you're qualified for. Pursue internships you really would want. Pursue internships that have nothing to do with your major but you still find fascinating. Pursue more than one.

5. Studied Abroad.

Traveling changes lives. As do the Harry Potter books, the Olsen twins, and campfires. Traveling during college is a must. Even if it means not eating out three or four semesters before or after. It's worth every cent. If I tell my students to do anything while they're in college, I tell them to study abroad. And I'm the number one hypocrite preaching this stuff, because I never did. But I've traveled. And changed the most from immersing myself in other cultures. So go sign up or start planning a trip right now.

6. Communicated to my closest friends how much I'll suck at talking to them after college.

Really, I think this happens with a lot of people who move away from their college town. Their friendships get tested. And I mean  the deep "I went to the beach with you illegally when it was closed at midnight and we bonded" kind of friendships. It's not that I don't care about them. I actually stalk their lives a lot and am cheering them on from a distance, even if that's just by liking their pictures on instagram (the obvious equivalent to saying "YAY you! I love what you're doing in life!). But if you are like a Stacie Stine in this area of your life, you might want to let your friends know ahead of time so they can prepare themselves or come up with ways to help keep you better accountable to calling them. My friends are sweet and keep bombarding me with reminders that we need to talk. And I love that. Need that. And will take grace in that area because I need grace in that area.

7. It would have been nice to take the GRE fresh out of that one college math class I had to take. Because studying for that ridiculous GRE (that usually has nothing to do with what you majored in) four years after that math class is like trying to lick peanut butter off your entire face in less than 30 seconds.... impossible and frrrrruuustrating.

1. Booty Kingdom. Brett's decided rap name for his blushing bride. Because becoming a rapper has been my every aspiration since I moved to Texas. I've decided that really only Brett Stine's allowed to come up with that kind of rap name for me and there be no offenses taken. It's really just evidence that he's enjoying his first year of marriage still I think.2. Beverage Snobs. That is who we are. Because lately the coffee, tea, and honey we've been consuming is either from Kenya, Amsterdam, or Canada. With my nose in the air and arrogance in my french press, I've been telling our guests (without trying to laugh), "Oh, we ONLY drink coffee from Kenya now, we have a friend who knows people there" or "Oh, Canadian honey from a small winery just outside of Niagra Falls? We'd never buy any other kind." People are starting to look at us funny and question how much money we spend at world market every month. DEAR EVERYONE, the truth is, we're like Jay Gatsby posers. People we know travel. We know people that travel. People travel we know. And they bring us coffee, tea, and honey from afar. And makes us look like super hip hipster snobs that all the Daisy Buchanan's want. We're really just Brett and Stacie who drink coffee every now and then. And it happens to be awesomely from Kenya.

3. We think about our future a lot lately (the pre-kids future for those Texas Great Aunts who keep asking me at family reunions, "When are y'all gon' start make'n them babies?") Reexamining dreams, jobs, desires, here's and nows. We snuggled and pillow-talked the other night and both agreed that major life decisions certainly seem easier and quicker to make when you're single. And then we laughed, sighed, and just agreed that we'd better get over what we think is easier to do and start doing MAJOR MARRIAGE DECISIONS cause that's where we're at.

4. We also really love our present. As in, here and now. Maybe it's Fall. Maybe it's that we're figuring each other out more. Maybe it's cause we are starting to feel known by our friends and church. Maybe it's because we're still paying off college loans but doing a good job at paying them off. Maybe it's because I can wear a scarf every day. Or maybe it's because we keep falling more and more in love with the college kids we live with. I'll take any of those reasons or all of them. We are loving it.

5. We had a Lizzie McGuire Movie sing-a-long  last night and crammed 12+ people into our little living room. Hey now, Hey now.

6. We are going camping with a good group of our friends this weekend. If you've never seen this video about "Pitching tents" and you need a Ginormous laugh, then you should watch it. It has nothing to do with camping. And EVERYTHING to do with pitching tents.

7. This is The Stine Way's 75th post!

8. Brett just sat down next to me and said, "How you do'n Baber-sauce-money... that's what I tell all my friends I call you". Oh boy, He's tired and needs to go to bed. Enjoy your weekend!

Four words: Long Distance Relationships. Eeesh.

I've rocked an LDR before. For two years. It ended pretty well. We're married now, so....

Here's what it looked like....

For those of you who are unfamiliar with what an LDR feels like, read EVERY WORD in this paragraph:

Long Distance Relationships are the best.  Anyone can do them. They aren't draining or frustrating at all. Hard work? Nah. Everyone who gets into a long distance relationship either gets married or engaged, and LDR participants practically never cry ugly face when they long for and miss their significant other. Making out too much never happens. Ever. LDR's are just as romantic as Rachel McAdam-y movies.

Now forget that paragraph, it lies.

Thanks to Brett and I's LDR, I'd like to think I have an amazing perspective on what it is to choose patience and trust, to work through deep frustration, and to choose present over future. But what I so intimately have learned from Long Distance, is that my desire and yearning to see Brett at the end of every four to five months, was, and is, nothing compared to the Fierce Love God has for me every second of every day. To me, everything comes back to the love of God.

During those two years of LDR-ing I wrote something that contrasts the love I had for Brett with the love God has for me, and it gives me peace and gratitude tonight as I re-read it again:

Patience is one of the most difficult virtues in light of passion and love. Miles away turns into light years. Heart beats move beyond pitter-patter to soul-deepening Cello strokes. Eyes close not wanting to open until one's love is standing before them. Motivation for all else is a flickering light, threatening to leave me in darkness. 

But there is a Light that is Greater, a Motivation that is Stronger, a set of Eyes that see beyond me, a deeper Soul Melody, and a Friend that is so close I feel them inside me. The Someone who created passion, who holds more passion for me and the rest of the world than I could ever have for just one person on this earth. 

Jesus. He saved me and gave himself for me. He has more patience with me than I know. 

These are words from a woman in love...

...because she IS, SO loved. 

Do you believe God is fierce for you? That He screams love at you and for you? Do you get what that means? The intensity of it? Do you long for some sort of love like that?

I do.

"God’s love is meteoric,     his loyalty astronomic, His purpose titanic,     his verdicts oceanic. Yet in his largeness     nothing gets lost; Not a man, not a mouse,     slips through the cracks.

How exquisite your love, O God!     How eager we are to run under your wings, To eat our fill at the banquet you spread     as you fill our tankards with Eden spring water. You’re a fountain of cascading light,     and you open our eyes to light."

Last year, not that long after Brett and I got married, we started going to the church we "church at" now.

[[For those who want a CHURCH DISCLAIMER, I"ll make up one for you: Half the people reading this hear the word "church" and don't even give it a second thought because they do church. The other people-half reading this either get frustrated when they hear that word, laugh at it, or just dont care.... and some people are pretty sure the elephant that walked into the room when "church" got dropped, just farted. 

I know what it's like to walk into a building where people seem to be bursting with questionable positivity and everyone there seems to want to hug somebody.  I know what it's like to walk in sweating, feeling judged or alone, or just fearful that my actual circumstances, thoughts, or life story will be discovered and I won't qualify to be there. I also know what it's like to walk in, feeling known, not putting on a show, not feeling judged, potentially outwardly happy because, maybe for the first time, I'm around people that worship the same God I do. Church happens differently for everybody.]]

Some people walk into church and they have a place they like to sit. Some of them even venture to call it their "spot". Maybe that's why some visitors get nervous walking into a church or even a coffee shop... they don't want to accidentally sit in someone else's spot or table. Everybody knows "spots" exist because of that orange couch at Central Perk that the Friends cast ALWAYS seems to snag EVERY episode. I don't think anybody really cares if someone sits in their spot... but for some reason, those of us who are socially sensitive and savvy, feel a heavy burden not to sit where someone else does. Brett and I? We sit in the balcony. That's our place. Vague enough that we don't have a specific "spot" and could really sit wherever so long as it's in the balcony. We like the view. The cleaner air. The walk up the stairs is a good workout. Plus all the new moms bring their babies up to the balcony because they think that makes their kid less of a distraction. Well, I LOVE getting distracted by the church babies. Especially in October. We just dedicated twenty-something babies. That's a TON of babies... that I get to gaze at, wave at, and make faces at during the sermon.

A year ago, Brett and I sat in our spot, the balcony, on a not so busy Sunday. We were the only people in our section, and, in the section next to us were a few people and the pastor of our church with his wife. I know what you're thinking, why is the pastor in the balcony? I thought he chilled in the pulpit? Well, not my pastor. On the Sundays when he's not preaching, I see him sit in the balcony a lot and I kind of like that he never takes it upon himself to be the center of attention. He leaves that to God, and rightly so.

We were alone in our section until a woman walked in with her little girl who must have been four or five and potentially mentally handicapped. They sat directly behind us and immediately I could tell that this lady was frustrated she had chosen to sit as close to us as she did. Just as the sermon started her little girl started a raging one act play, much to her mother's dismay. No matter how many shushes her mom gave her, she jabbered on and on, ran into our heads when she ran by, and I could even feel her spit on the back of my neck as rambled away. I was nervous about what others or this mother would think if I turned around and smiled at this little girl or even asked the mom if it would be okay if I took her out into the hall and played with her so her mother could enjoy a sermon. I wanted to turn around, but I didn't. So five minutes in, this mother gave a sigh that sounded like a sob, took her child, and walked out. The air hung with dejection. I never turned around once. I pretended like it didn't happen. I didn't want her to be embarrassed but I was so disappointed in myself for not acknowledging the need of this mom.

This is one of those moments I was sitting IN church and I felt like I wasn't THE church. This is one of those moments where I tell people that the church, whether in the building or out of the building, isn't perfect and always loving, but that's it's good that the God the church worships IS... ALWAYS loving, gentle, perfect, and understanding.

And, really, this isn't the kind of story that turns into, "well good thing the pastor was there". But I'm SO grateful our pastor was sitting in the section across from us. Because he did what I wish I would have done. He did what I think Jesus would have done. Just as that mom was walking out, he got up and ran after her and I can guarantee you that he told her that the church was there to love on and serve her and her daughter. That she didn't need to be ashamed of the show her daughter put on. That the church was there for her in messy moments like that because God's kind of the guru at handling everyone's messy lives. I guarantee you he showed her love.

What I love about THE church, not A church, is that church doesn't do alone. It does together.  

And if I've grown in any way since last year's balcony incident, I've found that I cherish not what the church can do for me, but what WE do AS a church.  I so firmly know that if that balcony incident were to happen again, I'd turn around in a heart beat. I also know that God had grace on both Brett and I for not turning around. I was convicted I didn't act and asked God to forgive me for ignoring that mom. And here I am writing about it because I think you should know how God's grace and forgiveness, not guilt, has grown and matured me since then.

A few months ago our church went through this phase where we called ourselves The Dearest Place On Earth. It sounds kind of "huh?" at first, but I've grown to love viewing the church as the dearest most beloved place on earth I could ever find myself in. For those who believe God saved them, He purposed the church to be a life-giving and necessary part of our lives. That's what I hope Brett and I both can be in every Balcony-like incident that happens in our lives from here on out. That the way we live out our marriage and lives can be evidence that there is something more dear and deep going on because of the One we answer to. To be a part of this dearest place on earth, is to know the God who created it. And share in His invitation to join. To join and be loved and to love so so so well.

...It doesn't happen just as often as it didn't when you weren't married.

Wah-Wahhhhh....

 

#reallife #THEstineway #hubbystilllovesme #imyourvenus

Babuh-Flave. Babe-tastic. Baboo. 

One year of Trophy Hub-uh-DUB-step.

One year of him offering a lot of grace to his cray cray wife.

MMM, MMM, Good. 

Right now I'm suppose to be grabbing the computer so we can watch Downton Abbey. But I thought you all should hear a little about what's been going on with us lately. So I'm sneak writing this post.I thought I'd share some of my favorite Stine slangs from this week:

THAT'S SO CHEFFING AWESOME

---a new phrase we use for tasty meals. Will it offend some people? Yes. Will it adequately describe certain delicious foods? Definitely.

HOW IS ANDREW?

---Which really means, "How are Andrew and Jessica doing? How is Jessica liking work this week? What are they both up to? Tell me how their dating relationship is going. Does she want to hang out soon?"

HOW IS JOSH?

---Which really means, "How is Kelsey doing? What are they experiencing in marriage this week? Does she want to hang soon?"

EINSTEIN

---I've been trying to come up with a cool name for Brett so that when I write about him, I can refer to him as insert-awesome-husband-nickname-here. Pioneer Woman calls her husband Marlboro Man, because, quite honestly, he really does look like the Marlboro Man. And I love that. If you've never met Brett, then you wouldn't understand that Einstein is actually a devilishly clever nickname for him. He's crazy intelligent and always ready to talk languages, ideas, theology,  and funny Youtube videos. He REALLY is a vault of knowledge and his last name REALLY is Stine, so I REALLY think it's appropriate to start now by calling him Einstein. With not so crazy hair.

-But just in case you wanted to hear about real life-

Yesterday morning we woke up to the sound of rain on our windows and I thought I would never get out of bed.

Even though we had a great weekend hanging out with both of our sweet families, I had had an emotionally tough weekend as Brett and I had some needed but difficult conversations about our Stine monthly BUDGETING. Most of those conversations involved tears, maybe some angry (and selfish) outbursts from myself, lots of hand squeezes, and silent prayers. AND most of them ended with me saying, "I don't want to be consumed by money anymore". This whole getting married has exposed a lot of secret idols I've had my hands death-gripped on for so long. But really, those idols have just had a death grip on me, trying to make me think they control my life, instead of the other way around.

Our apartment was totally kind of a wreck from the weekend, full of bags unpacked, bags waiting to get packed, unfinished crafts strewn about the living room, books on every surface, and... to top off the It-Might-Not-Bother-You-But-It-Bothers-Me mess, we already poured our cereal in two bowls only to find that our milk had expired earlier than the little stamped date said it would.

Hellloooooo awesome excuse for a Donut Shop run. 

It's been a bittersweet past few weeks as we are preparing to head to Canada for my hero of a big brother's wedding. And I can't put into words how filled with joy my heart is about our trip. We are also moving apartments/dorms this week, which is good and... tedious.

I'm also losing one of my co-workers, Rachel (the kind of co-worker you really don't know how you would have survived the first few weeks of your job without him/her), to the great state of California. And coincidentally, as she's moving out of her apartment this week, Einstein and I are moving in....  She and I got tea for our "last supper" (BUT REALLY it was Teauccinos; that's "tea" and "frappuccino" in case you missed it... pretty sure I called it a Teetachino when I ordered it earlier which was really just hilarious) and it was a sweet time for last minute wisdom questions and candid confessions. We got married two days apart, and I've loved hearing her joy and rawness about her and her husband's journey as well as anything and everything she has learned being a Hall Director for the few years she has been here. She's one of those I-Didn't-Know-You-For-A-Long-Time-But-I'm-Really-Grateful-For-You's. And she will be missed.

And now, I'm gonna watch Downton. Because Maggie Smith is bad ass hilarious.

Yesterday I was grocery shopping at Kroger, and, as I was heading to the check out station I ran into our friend Doug. He asked me if I was finishing up and I told him that I know I'm done shopping when I can't feel my hands anymore... you'd think they were storing dead bodies in that Kroger because of how cold they keep it in there. Am I the only one in the store who wants to take an parka in every time so I can shop in comfort? I'd argue that there really is no such thing as "the frozen food" section anymore. Doug admitted to me that he was there to buy a box of brownies for his daughter to take to school the next day... something about bribing her teacher. I told him it sounded like they were raising their children right.After I thawed out in this "Lord bless it" Texas humidity, I drove to the Kroger gas station because Brett asked me to fill up his car while I was out. So I did that. And it started raining. The kind of rain that rains sideways so no matter what you do, you get soaked. So I got soaked. So I just went ahead and gave myself wife points in my head. Cause that's the only place I really get wife points anyway. KEEP IT UP STACE! GET THAT GAS FOR YO MAN.

Tonight, I've hit the crafting pinnacle of summertime. Material, thread, stuffing, and clothes that need to be altered are lounging on the couch, waiting their turn to get worked on (much to Brett's chagrin since he would probably rather lounge there himself). The hot glue gun is plugged in and my textbook, Pinterest, is ever ready. This crafting craze is like a really bad but really good head cold except I'm not wasting cleanexes or trees... do I qualify to be a hipster yet? I struggle falling asleep at night because of all the creative inspiration my sinuses and thoughts are suddenly aware of.

So today I crafted some magnetic letters for our fridge. They spell out the word "ABIDE". I ran into some of my co-workers at Hobby Lobby when I was buying the letters and they thought I was trying to spell out "STINE". But I told them that as awesome as my new name is, the word "abide" is actually much more important to Brett and I.

To abide is to dwell. To live in. To make one's home in a certain place. A place of safety and acceptance.

Some of you who read this, are familiar with the God of the Bible. And some of you don't know what you think about it, and some of you know EXACTLY what you think about Him. So I'd love to explain that Brett and I abide not just physically in our home, but also in the God we believe created us, knows us better than we know ourselves, and saved us from an eternity apart from Him.  The Bible tells us that if we abide in God, our joy will be complete (John 15). He asks us to make our home in Him and simultaneously He will make His home in us.

It's a lot like grapes. Jesus is the vine and we are the branches. If we find our nourishment and purpose and home in Him, then we bear much fruit. But a branch that's not connected to the vine really can't bare any fruit. And is useless.

When Brett and I first got married, we chose a few verses, values, and habits we wanted to have as a foundation for our marriage. We would both agree that our marriage cannot be what it was created to be (full of unconditional love and growth) if we are not abiding in the Father who loves both of us. God shows us how to give grace to and receive grace from one another. I'd be a miserable and filled-with-attacks-and-blame wife to Brett if I did not take time to make my home in Jesus, the giver of patience, gentleness, understanding, self-control, and love.

And our joy is SO full when we abide.

If I'm in Kroger and it's freezing cold, I'll choose to abide, that my joy may be complete. If I'm in Nepal and AC isn't even an option, I'll abide, that my joy may be complete. If I'm tempted to desire selfishness or manipulation, I abide in the One who is selfless and fair. If I'm at a gas station getting drenched filling up my husband's car or in Amsterdam riding my bike in through the pouring rain, I'll choose to abide, that my joy may be full. If I'm on my couch, tired at the end of the day, I'll choose to make my home in the One who has chosen so lovingly to welcome (and accept) me into His.

Where are you making your home this week? Are you dwelling in a place of acceptance and safety and life?

Gift giving. Probably one of my lowest scores on the Love Language test.Need an encouraging word? I've got at least seven: Go. You. Can. Do. It. And. Go.

Need some love'n and home-cooked hug'n? I"ll glue you into my open arms and give you hand squeezes that'll last longer than a Lifetime movie.

Need some help unloading groceries from your car? I'll get my husband to help you with that. I'll bear the weight of your Kroger organic burdens.

Need some you and I, me and you time? I'll stop the clock for your soul's nourishment and let you buy me coffee buy you coffee at any of the fiftygagillion coffee shops we have in Denton.

Need a gift so you can know love at it's deepest most precious level?

Find yourself another Stacie.

I'm working on it. Really. But I've discovered that there is something I can do even though I'm not the best giver. I can celebrate and say thank you to those who ARE great gift givers. Because their gifts have impacted my life and reminded me that I am loved. And they remind me of how great it feels to receive... and how great it can be to give.

Below are three pictures. Each a gift given to Brett and I within the past year.

The first, two gnome salt and pepper shakers. Our sweet friend Emily got us two cute little coffee cups for our wedding, and, so thoughtfully and intentionally, waited to buy us a "real" wedding present because she wanted to find the perfect gift for us. A few weeks ago we got a package that neither of us were expecting. We opened it, and found these two guys with their shovel and watering can, waiting to grace our table. Emily's heart is so loyal, so intentional, and so for others. I love her.

The second, a journal for our marriage. One of Brett's lovely and intentional girl friends, Taryn, gave us this journal for our wedding. This is what she wrote to us, "Allow this book to be both of yours. Write words to each other great and small. Write thoughts and feelings, and convictions- love deep and leave it for him or her to catch." I have loved watching this sacred vessel migrate from one room to another, from shelves to coffee tables, from bed stands to under pillows. We don't write in it often, but when we do, those words are so full of life and necessary. This will forever be a precious gift to us.

The third, a hilarious letter I received in the mail from my friend Trese, in response to my refusal to use our french press. This is not the first gift Trese has given me. A few years ago, she burned me a lot of CD's filled with Adventures in Odyssey stories  (my absolute FAVE childhood memory) and a few great Mika songs. She came to our wedding even though she definitely wasn't living in Texas. And she always checks in on me every few months via Facebook, a gift of intentionality that I'm aweful at and I absolutely admire in her.

What gifts are you grateful for this week, and who in your own life do  you need to recognize for giving so lovingly of themselves?

From a Senior in College, a little more than one year ago. I did not know how true and difficult the words I would write would be. 

“To live would be an awfully big adventure”. -Peter, from J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan

There are some days I walk through my front door, sit down on my floral couch and stare at my old coffee table... wishing I could be at any other place in life than the place I'm in. Deep down I either long for what was or what could be... while trying to cope with what is. Some days I wish I could have my child-like innocence bestowed upon me again... to live in a care-free world, with dreams as big as the church pews on Sunday and as attainable as a piece of grass in a giant meadow. There are days when all I want is to have years of experience on my sleeve, instead of an uncertain and somewhat daunting future staring me in the face, refusing to let me see what is beyond. It is an odd thought to know that my formal education is ending and real life is waiting around the corner... am I the only one who thought Jesus was going to come back before I had to face such a drastic uncertain part of life?

This past summer I read Luci Swindoll's I Married Adventure. She's seventy something and has seen the back of her hand so often she not only remembers what it looks like, but knows when each wrinkle and crevis arrived. She said that when we are young we want nothing but to be older. And when we are older we desire nothing but to be younger. And in my early twenties, I want so much... I want my dream job, I want a non-profit that sells re-stitched vintage clothes. I want to be a successful writer. I want to roadtrip the entire West Coast. I want to read books for a whole week straight. I want to be married. I want to be laughing around a dining room table with too many friends squeezed around it, dreaming up creative ideas and new ways to take community out of the cliche box it has been put into... and on days when life is tiring and seemingly overwhelming, I'm tempted to think I want nothing but retirement. 

But those "sit and stare" thoughts linger for a time and then, with an understanding wink and a kind wave, they leave. I am here. In the present. I cannot go back. And I cannot move forward as nimbly as I think I can. I cannot skip over living life. What's the fun in living out dreams if I haven't reached for them? And when I look back on the small part of life I have lived, I ask why I would ever want to fast forward or rewind... even through the difficult chapters. 

 I used to read the last few pages of every book before starting it.... but, after awhile, I decided knowing the end never made the book any better. I never really understood the weight of that last page anyway...at least until I had the feeling and momentum of the entire book to back it up. I think life is a lot like that. Skipping ahead isn't realistic and, even if it was, it wouldn't be grand or appreciated. To appreciate the here and now, means living fully in the moments it took to get here.

 

Living in the present isn't so hard when I see life as an adventure worth living. By the grace of God it is an adventure... an everlasting one. And apparently this “blink of an eye” life I'm living is only the beginning. That's what I've come to believe and stake my life on. Here's to living a great adventure.