"What's your five year plan?"

One of my favorite quotes about life.
From John Lennon's"Beautiful Boy."

I recently received a callback from a job to which I applied about a week before.  Before scheduling an interview, the woman's voice on the other end of the speaker asked, "I'd like to ask you some questions; would that be alright?"  I was just sitting there on my bed, excited about this phone call, and stunned that there were questions to ask me.  But, I thought, sure, why not?  So I said, "Of course!" and the questions commenced.

One that hung in the air for a beat before my response was,

"What is your five year plan?  Where do you see yourself in five years?"

I wanted to scream, "Are you serious right now?  Five years?!"  I've been asked this question fairly often lately, especially since my engagement and wedding.  From someone I know well, I generally take it as an affront to my sense of honesty; I expect that they're putting down what I'm doing in the here and now in addition to trying to find a roundabout way to get me to say something about the (imaginary) child in my body who will be almost five in five years.  

*          *          *

In the two or three seconds the question(s) radiated in the silence, a million things came to mind.  A couple years ago, my counselor explained to me that in addition to the well-known fight or flight reaction generally given credit for panic attacks and anxiety issues, a lot of people don't consider why these things happen and why they actually make sense.  The way our brains work, we make connections all over the place.  So, when I was asked about my "five year plan," not only did I think of all the times people have asked me this recently, but I recalled all the times I've been asked this in the past - starting in early high school, probably, then the times teachers would have you imagine what you'd be doing in ten years and write a story about it (I always thought twenty-four and seventeen would be magical ages.  I don't know why.), the time my then best friend forced me to sit down and write out a set of goals for different times (Life-long, 1-year, 5-year, 10-year) of my life, and a bunch of other things.  Memories.  Flooding.

Immediately, I thought, "I haven't even accomplished any of my 'goals' from the last five years.  This is stupid.  I don't like setting goals."  I was blown away in December when my mom asked me this question, but then I just said, "I don't think goals are important.  I want to be happy and healthy."  Coming from her, it was bizarre.  When I was little, she and I stopped making actual plans because every time we did, they'd fall through.  Instead, we opted for "adventures" to different places.  Time limits were flexible, activities optional, and it made more sense to me - and to her.

Still, I happen to have the journal in which I made those goals about 5.5 years ago.  Somehow, when the question was out there, I was thinking, "I haven't followed the goals so far."  I just looked at the "goals."  I was surprised to see that, although I never did a lot of the shorter-term goals, my five year goals have shaped up rather close to their deadline.

As of July 9, 2008

Life-long Goals:

-Raise a family

-Stay Christian (find denomination closer to actual beliefs?)

-Write @ least one best-seller

1-Year Goals:

-complete @ least 1 semester of college Not until August 2009

-volunteer in a Nat'l Park

-Write 300 pages of a novel

-Journal Daily

-Pick university, apply, get FAFSA, visit FAFSA 2009, 4-year college 2010

-have a job

-Driver's License Oct. 2008, Passport April 2012

-Cross-Country Rd Trip

-Finish French Kit

5-Year Goals:

-Graduate from College

-Be Engaged/Married

-Have gone to Europe

-Free-lance for Magazines/Local Papers

-have @ least one novel published

10-Year Goals:

-At least three kids

-Really pushing novels/collections of essays

Now, of course, when I look at some of these, things have adjusted.  I've given up on certain things.  I've changed my mind countless times.  That list is followed by a chart of pros and cons for different majors; history and English are both on there, but I remember feeling so helpless about picking anything.  I was once much more dreamy than I am now - "I want to write," but I seldom wrote.  I remember thinking when I wrote out my five year goals that getting married was an impossible task because it was something that didn't depend solely on me, but on someone else, too.  I was bad enough at believing I could do much, let alone influencing others in any way.  Looking back, I did only one of the things on my 1-year goals within the set time limit: got a driver's license.  I completed others of them in the time since and I've found different things to fill the voids.  There remain items on the list that I yearn to do.  I bug Tom about taking a cross country road trip.  I try to get myself to journal daily, but it never happens - I started a gratitude journal last week that seems to be going well; I seem to be able to do a sentence a day.  I'll start on my novel someday.  I'll dust off that French Kit and restart.

But for now, I think the big picture matters most.  I've done a lot with my life that I never would have imagined having done for fulfilled in the ways that I have.  I went to an amazing school in Kentucky where I made some incredible friends.  I volunteered for a nonprofit and got it running because the friend who made me make the goals wanted help doing so.  So far, my "Europe" has been a stopover in Paris's Charles de Gaulle airport en route to spend the better part of a week in the European side of Istanbul, Turkey.  I fell in love with someone I'd known for years, crushed on forever, and we got married in December!  AS far as the future goes, I can hardly imagine having one kid in the far off someday.  I definitely don't want "at least three" in the next five years.  I'd like to do more writing.  I want to remain happy.

All of that - and more - came to my brain.

JournalGoalsFailureBythegraceofGodWhereIamnowWhatmattersTomMyapartmentFamilyHappyFriendsWifeHealthyJoyfulWeightFoxEtc.

*          *          *

Luckily, I'm cooler talking to people I don't know well or at all.

I took all of those thoughts and composed them as well as I could.

"You know, I'm not really very good with setting goals like that.  I set some goals a few years back and nothing has turned out the way I planned, but everything is so much better than I could have imagined.  I've learned to roll with what happens and to figure life out as it comes at me.  It seems to be working so far."

Yes, I'm sure there were a couple "um"'s in there and a little nervous giggle, but I was honest.  I was true.  I wasn't lying.

She liked it and invited me to "come by" Friday at 10:30 a.m..

And so, today, I went in there and did myself.  I elaborated on my strengths, weaknesses, and joys and discontents.  I told them what I could do for them and that when people expect much from me, I deliver.  I smiled and spilled coffee on my notebook.  I laughed when I wanted to.  I rocked a sweater vest and pearls.  I looked like I knew what I was doing and made them like me.

You know what?  I think they'll let me work for them because of it.  I certainly hope so.  I love their online vibe, office atmosphere, and the smiling faces I met with my own grin.  I could work for them and be happy with it.

But if that doesn't work out, something else will come.  Someone else will see the strength of a non-five year plan and a goal of happy and healthy.  Sure, I could lament the same things I've lamented in the past and whine that the problem with job seeking is that it's not just a "me" thing - it's also a "them" thing.  Sure.  But what's the use?

Besides which, you see,
I have con-fi-dence in meeeeeeeeee!

I'm getting corny in my happiness, but this is my life.  And although I'm not always in control, I do have some control and I have confidence that I can do anything.

Thanks to all of the people who have helped me strengthen this belief.  I love y'all.

Newlywed Wedding Planning: Vows Edition

Being a newlywed and planning a wedding is a bit odd.  I felt smug the other day when I made a bridal salon appointment.  "When's the wedding?"  "August 31st."  "Oh, plenty of time before you get married, then."  Don't worry; this isn't about people assuming I'm not married before my wedding.

This is actually about my vows.

You see, we haven't made any yet.  We literally signed the piece of paper in the presence of our immediate family members.  I think everyone - our parents and the lone sibling - felt this was a bit anticlimactic, but we warned them all as best as we could!  We want to save all of the ceremony for the upcoming wedding.  The law in our state doesn't require you to have a ceremony, make vows, or even have a witness to make a marriage legal.  So we "got legalled" without any of those things.  At the courthouse, however, they did ask us some - for lack of a better word - interesting questions such as whether or not we're related more closely than second cousins, whether we were both intending to get married, and a couple other fun facts.

Every once in a while, someone asks me what the wedding will be like - one of us being much more into faith than the other.  Although I'm not sure, I know I don't want to use the Christian Marriage section from the WELS's Northwestern Publishing House's Christian Worship.  My grandfather had a little black book in which he'd devised his own ceremony and currently claims he has it "up here" (while pointing to his mane of black and silver curls).  I think I may have to have him write it out for my peace of mind.

I've been thinking about what vows Tom and I will make in August.  We promise each other things all the time:  I promise not to tickle you when you've thrown your back out.  I promise not to bring up a big discussion right before bed (this often gets broken).  I promise to take the litter out tomorrow.  Let's promise not to fight about holidays ever again.  I promise to always love you.

I think that last one is all that anyone needs to say in a marriage vow, though obviously, marriage vows aren't necessary to be married...

Um, anyway...

I've read through the "marriage promises" (they're questions asked to the bride and groom, followed by succinct promise) in CW.  I don't like them.  It's not that they're not effective for what they are, but they don't wholly reflect what I believe marriage is, at least not my marriage.

• To the Groom:  ________, will you take _______ to be your wife?  Will you be guided by the counsel and direction God has given in his Word and love your wife as Christ loved the Church?  Will you be faithful to her, cherish her, support her, and help her in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?  If so, answer, "I will."
• To the Bride:  _______, will you take_______ to be your husband?  Will you be guided by the counsel and direction God has given in his Word and submit to your husband as the Church submits to Christ?  Will you be faithful to him, cherish him, support him, and help him in sickness and in health as long as you both shall live?  If so, answer, "I will."
• In Turn:  I, ______, in the presence of God and these witnesses, take you, ______, to be my wife/husband.  I promise to be faithful to you as long as we both shall live.

Like I said, they're fine.  They're sufficient.  They're not about my relationship with my husband.

I don't suppose most people question their beliefs when pondering their wedding vows, but I am.  I do suppose, however, that I've been dancing around this for a very long time.  I believe wholeheartedly that the Christ loves His people and that the Church must, at all cost, submit to Christ.  I do not believe this is a good interpretation of my marriage thus far or any description of how I want my marriage to be in the future.

Often, we look to what we Christians call the place in the Bible where God instituted marriage, Genesis 2.  The passage goes that God wanted Adam to find a helper, so God let him see and name all of the animals.  Here's what happened next in Genesis 2:20b-24

But for Adam no suitable helper was found.  So the Lord God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man's ribs and closed up the place with flesh.  Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.

The man said,

"This is now the bone of my bones

and flesh of my flesh;

she shall be called 'woman,'

for she was taken out of man."

For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.

Now, let's think about this for a minute.  I'd like to point out, firstly, that this particular marriage - the one we point to as the one to begin all marriages - is quite unique.  We're not talking the kind of unique like mine is (girl meets boy, girl and boy have to dance together, boy trips girl, girl sits next to boy on long bus ride, boy dates girl's friend, boy and girl become friends online, etc. and the rest is history); we're talking, "I've looked through all of the other creatures on the planet and God hasn't made one that is at all like me - yet."  And then God does it.  There are no other humans on the earth.  Even though we have two creation accounts in our Genesis, neither one of them mentions vows.  Neither one mentions love.  Neither mentions choice.  In Genesis 1:28, God blesses them and commands them simply, "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it..."

I'd make the argument that we now are more comfortable with the idea of marriage being more about helping than about increasing in number.  For this reason, I like the Genesis chapter two account slightly more than the Genesis chapter one account.  I think they're nice in tandem, too, which is the way most of us learned them, I believe.  No children's Bible or Sunday School lesson I've ever seen has split them up, anyway.  But that doesn't matter, I guess.  I suppose also it could be argued that love, in a perfect world, was inherent.  Okay, I'll give in.  But there is no choice.  Now, we have infinite people to choose from.  And the people we choose to have in our lives are there because of our decisions, our actions, and our words.

I keep asking myself, "What is my marriage?"

I don't need to make any vows for another eight months, but I'm starting to wonder how to explain to people how wonderful this is.  Every now and again I stop to think than anyone who's been in love has felt this same thing, but I don't truly believe this, as I think lust is often mistaken for "in love."  But surely those who've actually been in love have felt this... right?  Then a soft internal voice says, "Maybe not."  Maybe our love is unique.  Maybe our story is so much our own that our love is also different.  And if our love is different, then maybe all of our cares, desires, and our lives together are therefore also different.  Different.  Please note that I'm not saying "special" or that our love is better than your love.  I'm saying simply that maybe each relationship is fundamentally different on some level.  And maybe some have similarities with others' relationships.

What does that mean?

It means that I can't honestly vow to Tom that I'll submit as to him the Church does to Christ.  I'll submit to Christ.  I'll follow the laws of the land.  I'll help and respect my husband.  But I expect him to help and respect me just as much.  I've never done well with authority, I've never liked group projects, but I've always done rather well on partner work.  When Tom and I want to, we can bust out some pretty cool stuff together - he even helped me make Christmas cookies!  In order to open our back door, one must turn the key in the deadbolt and turn the door handle at once.  I'm really good at turning the door handle while he turns the key.  We take good care of Fox:  Tom usually feeds him and I always take out the litter.  Together, sure.  I'm a helper.  I get the metaphor and why it's beautiful:  Christ is in charge, but died for His people; the Church, in thankfulness, submits to Christ's will and aids His cause.

All good.  But it leads to thoughts like those voiced in this blog entry from Loving Life at Home, 25 Ways to Communicate Respect (to your husband).  None of these ideas are bad in and of themselves.  What bothers me is that they are all about "him."  I deserve this same respect.  And I expect to get it.  I really wanted to love this entry, given that when I first read it, I was just done with my last post, a major theme of which was becoming a housewife.  Alas, and did my heart bleed to read that I am supposed to respect "him" but not to expect anything in return.  That I should dress for "him" and not for myself.  What did I read?  I read that I should put more into my marriage than "he" does.  Thankfully, I'm not married to "him."

I'm married to Tom!

Somehow, through a great mixture of luck, friendship, grace, patience, impatience, tears, hugs, kisses, and love, I've found myself married to my best friend.  I'm married to someone I prayed for and have known for years.  I'm married to someone I literally dreamed about.  He doesn't expect me to wait on him hand and foot - incidentally, this makes me more likely to do so from time to time, on my time.  He doesn't expect me to not talk about my day and we encourage each other to share our respective days and when we can, we actually spend time together.  We like being together more than with most other people.  We are honest with each other and share our needs with the other.

I think this mutual respect is a good thing.

Sure.  We argue.  We say things without thinking.  We glare.  We huff.  We sigh.  We growl.  We storm out of the room.  We roll our eyes.  We don't know what to do.

No one said life was going to be easy.  No one said marriage was, either, but it oftentimes feels a vastly more complicated than most vows might lead you to believe.  Personally, I like the sound of some of the more simple ones on this page from The Knot.  I don't feel the need to compare Christ's relationship with His Church to Tom's relationship with his wife.  I don't feel like it's relevant.  I think the most bonding thing in marriage is the love.  I think the most bonding thing in the world is love.  People often write about love and I know I have in the past, but I think that if we look at this in this context, things become clearer.  What do I want from Tom and what do I expect from myself in my relationship with Tom - though I know I will inevitably fail time and again?

I expect to love one another as Christ has loved us - as friends, as people willing to die for one another, as equals, as human beings (John 15:12).  I expect to be patient, kind, to not envy, to not boast, to be humble, to be polite, to be selfless, to anger slowly, to keep no record of wrongs, to not delight in evil but to rejoice with the truth, to always protect, always trust, always hope, always persevere (1 Corinthians 13:4-8a).  I expect to have love on my side and expect love to never fail.

Maybe we'll write our own vows, maybe we'll revert to something very traditional.  Maybe we'll twist some song lyrics we like into vows  Maybe we'll simply promise to love one another as much as we can.  I don't know.  As I said, we have another eight months or so to figure this out.  I just know that when I make a vow, it's not going to be one I'll break five minutes later.

Having just gotten off of a week in which we watched The Lord of the Rings trilogy, extended editions, I must say that I am far more like who Éowyn actually is than who her family wants her to be.  And you know what?  Tom must be a little like Faramir to accept me and love me for the way I am - strong, fair-skinned, and against the grain.  (Don't hate me for not having read the books!)

Anyway, in my heart, I know God is good with this, seeing as He arranged it all and made  us the people we are.  I don't think He'll be offended if I don't promise something he didn't create me to deliver.

Everybody's Doing It: Life, Love, and the Pursuit of Happiness

New Year's resolutions make my stomach turn a bit.  I don't really see the point, other than that it's an excellent way to measure how long you've been doing something.

I wouldn't say that I've made any resolutions this year, but I did sit down on New Year's Eve and write a list of things I want to do in 2014, along with a daily schedule that I'm still working on to help me be productive and focused as I adjust to my new lifestyle.  Some of the things are things I've been slipping on lately - investing enough quality time with my grandfather, maintaining and losing weight, being an open and loving person, and just breathing through the reality of everyday stresses.  Some things are out of my control, but I can become at peace with that, I hope.  Some of the things on my list are things I've been meaning to do, but just have lacked motivation.  I don't want them to be on a to-do list, but they are, along with sleeping in tomorrow morning.  I want to write more, read more, and be more happy with the life I have, the home I'm making my own, and the wonderful people who I and they have chosen to be family.

Hands.  Rings.

My life has changed recently.  To be truthful, I didn't expect to feel the change as much as I have.  Reflecting, though, perhaps it's the enormity of it all.  Tom and I recently moved approximately 45 minutes from the area we've become accustomed to calling home, figured out how to divvy up all of the holidays for 2013, hosted a dinner for our immediate families, and got legally married (and are still planning a wedding for August!).  All of these things are wonderful things, but quite stressful all the same.  As a banker remarked the other day, "Just a housewife?  That's nice, too!"  And do you know what?  I like being a housewife.  It's really nice to be home and to not have to leave the house when it's frigid outdoors and to not get yelled at by a boss when I don't feel good.  It's practical in its way.

If you're a highly stereotypical single person, you're probably wondering what on earth more I could have to write about life, love, and the "pursuit" of happiness.  I'll have you know that being a housewife, a wife, a cook, a kitten parent, a good granddaughter, and everything else I am in life isn't always easy for me.  In fact, it seldom is.  I find life difficult.  Yes, life.  I'm not talking about the fancy stuff like perfectly painting the China cabinet or aligning the brushed nickel cabinet knobs so that their grain is all in vertical - believe it or not, I haven't done any of those things.

I'm talking about getting out of bed every morning and convincing myself that what I do has meaning in the lives of those I love.  I'm talking about hand washing the dishes in the first home I've ever lived in without a dishwasher and without a garbage disposal, too, even though washing dishes makes me feel queasy.  I'm talking about getting used to the fact that a lot of what I do will go unnoticed because the toilet being clean is how it's supposed to be.  I'm talking about feeling like everyone will judge my home more harshly because I should be taking care of it all of the time, as I've nothing "better" to do.  I'm talking about how weird it is to have grown up in the worlds I grew up in.  Seven years of public elementary school said that I could be anything I wanted to be and that women are no different from men.  Six years of Lutheran junior high and high school said that theoretically, I could do anything, but I should really look for a husband and honor him with obedience, preferably after teaching for a few years.  (There is some sarcasm intended here.)  Then I went to college for a few years, where things seemed to lean back to what many would call a "feminist" perspective, which again said I could be anything, but being a housewife only seemed a viable option in health, psychology, and sociology classrooms, along with fairly conservative Christian circles.  Maybe it's because I went to a school of poor kids and we don't see other options as viable.  I don't know.  Somehow, though, I feel as though there is some stickiness inherent in this housewifery situation.  It's like I'm allowed to have chosen to do anything other than what I'm doing right now.

In any case, I find this life difficult.  It's challenging for me, as much as people - even those I love - crack jokes about how I have "such a hard life" and do such "exciting" things like clean my apartment from top to bottom on New Year's Eve and wonder at the fact that I let it get so bad when that's my "only" responsibility.  As difficult as it is, however, I truly enjoy it.  I find these things enriching.  I've never enjoyed cleaning, but I've always loved cooking!  My hatred of cleaning will never be beaten, I don't think, nor will the constancy of the stress I feel while trying to maintain a neat home.  Rules I've never wanted to heed are now being asked by me to my dear husband.

I entreat him to follow to "one minute" rule as I have been - if it can be done in less than a minute, why not do it?  For example, I've always willing to hang my coat on a chair; why not just hang it in the closet?  It seems to help.  There's also a "ten minute" rule before bedtime - take ten minutes before getting ready for bed to pick up the stuff around the home that you've let fall by the wayside during the day.  To be perfectly honest, the one minute rule seems to make this one sort of obsolete, but still useful, I think, to have it mind!  Another I've implemented is one I read online, but which I also have hi-jacked from my first boss when I was a waitress seven - oh my heaven - years ago, "save your steps."  If I'm in the kitchen and heading to the bedroom - on the other side of the apartment, I look around and see what - if anything - around me needs to be transported along the way.

People ask me if I get bored and if I'm satisfied with this life.  I don't get bored.  I'm working on being satisfied; I certainly have been the last few days.  More importantly, however, I want to be happy for far longer than the typical "honeymoon period."  I want be happy.

In this noble attempt, I've read a few blog articles with ideas on how to be happy.  I also attempted to search for apps in Google Play on my phone one night as I laid awake to help me with my modern housewifery.  However, all I could find were books written before the Great Depression.  Hello, failings of modern life.  Anyway, back to one of those happiness blogs I mentioned.

"be HAPPIER in your HOME"

One blog entry I read this week is one simply entitled, "be HAPPIER in your HOME" and is a re-post of something from the great Apartment Therapy, though I enjoyed the picture and the vibe of this particular blog so much that I didn't even search for it there.  Anyway, this entry contains ten tips to make you - get this - happier in your home.  I find the tip there to be really helpful.  I've taken the first most to heart, so far, at least!  I've made my bed every day since reading this - I don't think I've ever make a bed for a four-day streak before!  Our bedroom now feels so much more comfortable, so welcoming, so calm during the day.  It's so nice to be able to plop on my bed to put my feet up and fall into plush fuzzy blanketed softness and comfort!  I also am seeking to get more sentimental things out and up, but as I'm sure many of you know, getting things out and up when you first settle in takes a bit of time!  I need to move a lot of my stuff over, still, but I do have some family pictures and artwork from my childhood home hanging up, a pillow sham someone once gave me as a thank you on my perfectly made bed, a fuzzy blanket from my great aunt who passed away folded over the recliner, lovely old books filled with other people's memories and sentiments, familiar books of mine, and gifts from  loved ones all around me and in every cupboard in my kitchen!  This blog suggest that we get more out of seeing such things than just when we got them, there's the sentimentality that comes with them - the planning of the event or trip, the actions and lives of those who gave it to you, and so much more.

Macklemore's got nothin' on me!

I agree.   In addition, I've found that simply calling this place my "home" instead of my "apartment" helps.  I call it my "house" pretty often, too!  I like it here in this lovely old apartment building near places I can walk for all my daily needs (except groceries!) and to indulge my love of thrift shopping, antique admiring, and restaurant experimentation.  Even with it's hissing radiators and squeaky floors, it's charming, warm, and has my two favorite boys in it for most of the day!

In my more vulnerable moments, I even find a way to quibble about the nature of the sentimentality I've attached to certain things in my home.  Is it really worthy?  The frames hanging in my living room hung in my childhood living room, but I hadn't thought of them for years until my aunt unearthed them in her basement this summer - my grandmother had set them aside for me.  Many of the things in those boxes remain there, in newspapers they've been with since 2005.  I don't know why Nana thought I needed some of these things.  I don't know how to properly display some of them and I feel a little bad that they remain there, but I don't know what to do with them.  Maybe I will someday.  For now, I have a few things up and I plan to modify the two in the living room eventually, but they work with what we have now.

Thankfully, in these moments, I know someone who's kind enough to tell me that Tom and I will make our own memories and remind me that being happy with what we have is key.  This Christmas, we were also blessed enough to have some particularly fantastic gifts from our loved ones.  Did you notice my comment above about seeing gifts in my kitchen cabinets?  We received so many great kitchen items and I can say with confidence that it's much nicer to cook the delicious things I enjoy cooking when I have the proper tools for doing so!  I think Tom might have bought a colander sooner if he knew I'd make pasta thrice in a week once I had one (I actually have two.  What a luxury!) and a small nonstick pan, whisk, and spatula had he known I'd be able to make a perfect omelette like the one I made this morning!

Life is wonderful.  Love is wonderful. Pursuing happiness is wonderful.

I am surrounded by wonderful things in a wonderful home in a wonderful area of a wonderful town in a wonderful place.  I do wonderful things that help those I love, like eat, clean, pray, cook, pet (Fox), laugh, get lunch, make boxes for items around the house, enter receipts into a budgeting tool, buy groceries, and... be who I am.  I know wonderful people who care for me daily, call me often, check in on me, indulge my tastes in movies, food, art, and decorating, laugh at my jokes, snuggle, and love me for who I am.  I'm getting pretty good at this modern housewifery and I've learned to manage my somewhat modern family with a traditional spin.  As wonderful as these things are, however, there is another key emotion at play.  Fear.

It's scary to live, love, and pursue happiness.

I second-guess myself often.  I wonder about the future.  I question the past.  I listen to music to drown out my thoughts.  I binge-watch shows to keep my mind off reality.  Sometimes, it feels like there is no point.  But then a voice in my heart asks, "What if there is a point?" and the very heart that asks it breaks because I know the answer.  Once, while taking Catechism classes, I confessed to my pastor grandfather that it bothered me that some people insist on prefacing or ending their prayers with, "If it is Your will," or some such variant.  I had never heard it before, as he was my pastor growing up.  He told me something I hope I'll never forget, "Pray for what you want.  God already knows what he wants."

Some people think that each of us decides his or her own future.  Some people believe a higher power decides our fate.  Me?  I believe it's a bit of both.  My life right now is the stuff of my dreams, but I never could have imagined it all coming together the way it has.  I believe in free will.  I believe in God.  If these two things can be true, I see no reason why our decisions and those of someone higher that me can work together to create my reality.

ATTENTION:  Those of you who don't believe mental disorders and
emotional issues are "real" or valid conditions.  You are wrong.
I hope no one ever suggests that you just "try."
It's frustrating and unhelpful.

I am happier with my life now than I have ever been.  I struggle, though.  Although some of the struggle comes from outside forces and stresses, much of it comes from within me.  I've always had issues with depression and the past year or so, I've developed some anxiety issues.  I don't think things are as easy as some people make them out to be.  I don't think it's fair to look at people and think that their lives must be easy, perfect, or whatever you deem them to be.  Every one of us has something that is difficult.  Every one of us struggles.  Many of these are invisible, silent, and too personal to mention.  Some of them are as obvious as mismatched shoes or a messy car.

I read a blog entry entitled "Killing Superwoman" and it seems rather true.  The claim of this entry is that we, as women - and I'd say the same goes for men, too, by the way - sometimes feel so pressured to be perfect or to get so much done that we compare ourselves to others.  This does little more than make us feel inferior and leads to one of two things: either attempting to do everything like that the person we've deemed "perfect" - and failing - or just giving up entirely because we are just realistic enough to know were going to fail. Upon some personal reflection, I've decided that the truth, as with many things, lies somewhere in between these two extremes.  I think everyone has a "super power" and in our current day and age - more than ever, perhaps - we display it as best as we can.  We have more outlets to do so.  For example, I seem to have a natural knack for cooking.  I do well at following recipes and I love making things up, too!  I've blogged about these and bragged about them on Facebook, but did I ever tell you about my "lentil soup?"  Trust me.  You don't want to hear about it.  Oh, you do?  Well, it was about six months ago and I had a craving for my college's mass-produced vegetarian lentil stew.  Mine was just plain awful.  Tom ate a serving of it and tried to make me feel better by saying he'd eat the rest of it, "Of course!"  I found it waiting in the refrigerator a few weeks later.  It was disgusting.  Also, you don't often see me posting photos of my perfectly decorated anything, do you?  For me, decor is a work in progress.  I'm not particularly great at it, but I like experimenting and I am quite happy in my home at the moment!

Sunday's decorating attempt:  lighted photo/card clothesline.  Not too shabby for $1.79 - just the clothespins!  =)

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What's the point?
I suppose the simple point of this lengthy blog entry is that both in spite of and because of everything, I'm blessed with life, love, and the pursuit of happiness.  And the incredible part is that it's not a blessing bestowed solely upon me.  If you're reading this, you have life.  You have the ability to love and be loved - even when you don't feel you do, you do.  You also have the ability to pursue happiness, even if it is a daily struggle and as hard as getting up the courage to wash the dishes.

To address the questions I imagine are in many minds:  No, I'm not bored, pregnant, dissatisfied, or disappointed.  I'm trying to be good at the right now, I'm looking for jobs, and I want to focus on my family.  This is good, noble, and who I am.  I look forward to your acceptance of my lifestyle, but don't require it for my happiness.