Feeling welcome

I was reading from the Message this morning, John 15:9-10 Jesus says, "I've loved you the way my Father has loved me. Make yourselves at home in my love. If you keep my commands, you'll remain intimately at home in my love. That's what I've done—kept my Father's commands and made myself at home in his love." So the part I underlined, "Make yourselves at home in my love". That part jumped out at me. Obviously there's the image of coming in to Jesus' home, kickin' off your shoes, putting on a nice smoking jacket and fuzzy slippers (maybe that's just me) unwinding and just letting down the guard. Much like the image that comes to mind when someone says, dinner time Thursday nights. Just relaxing and allowing us to stop "performing". Comfort, peace, just be yourselves and enjoy. But there was another part that came to mind on the same wavelength. Am I running my home in a way that Jesus would feel like He could make himself at home in? Would Jesus be able to relax, be comfortable, peaceful, enjoy my home? Am I speaking to my wife behind close doors, so to speak, in a way that Jesus would feel comfortable sitting on the couch watching old Broncos highlights in the same room with us? Would He feel like He could walk around my home, and me not worry, "what if he looks in that cabinet, what will He think of what He finds? If he looks at the pictures and artwork on my walls, would he sheild his eyes or appreciate them? If He looked in my DVD drawer, would He ask if He could borrow some of them, or shake His head and sigh deeply to Himself? When we have more friends come over to join us, would He think I/we treated them well? Would He think we make them feel welcomed, that they're our guests and they too feel comfortable and loved? Do we offer them food, drink? Comfort when it's needed? Support and encouragement? Laughter? Am I paying attention to my dog? Am I treating the animal in our home (since we don't have kids yet) the an animal should be treated?" Jesus invites me to make myself at home with Him. Do I feel like I can extend the same invitation to Him by the way I live? Would Jesus feel comfortable in me? Does He? Or is He more like the friend you have come over and once they see what your home is like, they keep looking at their watch, hoping their cell phone will ring with a, "something's come up, we need you back home" call? I hope my home is the one where He's in His smoking jacket, fuzzy slippers, laid back and doesn't even notice how much time has gone by.

Fun with photos

Must've been cold in the condo that day

My kinda Sunday

"You going to drop whatever it is you're grilling?!"

Just what I wanted!!

Lindsay's first NFL game, my Broncos getting whopped by the Panthers

Lindsay's first major college basketball game, UNC at Wake Forest

Biltmore flowers

On top of the Biltmore. I didn't want to take this picture...to close to the edge for me

On our way into the Biltmore house

The bed and breakfast we stayed in for our first anniversary trip

Snow on the Blue Ridge Parkway

One down, many many more to go

Monday is our one year anniversary. I had someone ask me recently if there was anything about our wedding that I would do differently. Yeah, there actually was. First of all, I was sick. I had some kind of head cold and could barely breathe. So that would be one thing. Second, I didn't know that as people were coming into the church, I had to be tucked away in a room. I wanted to greet people as they came in. I'm sure that's the way it's done, but I wish I could've hugged people as they came in and didn't have to wait until the reception. But there's one other thing I would've done differently.
That morning when I got up and was praying for the day, I thought if I got an opportunity to speak at the reception, I wanted to thank some people. I had the opportunity during the toasts, but I didn't take advantage of it, and I regret that. To this day I regret it. I was going to thank everyone for coming. The weather wasn't bad, but risky enough to where we would've understood if they didn't come. So I wanted to thank them for braving the weather and joining us. I wanted to thank Steve for officiating our ceremony. He HAD to be a part of it. I wanted to tell him I couldn't wait to see the video, because once Lindsay walked in the room, I didn't hear anything else. I didn't hear the congregation making noise, I didn't hear what Steve said to us, I didn't hear him sing. I was just captured. But I wanted to thank him for officiating it. I wanted to thank everyone who worked hard for our day. Jimmy, Joyce, Judy Webster who decorated the church. They volunteered their time and it was beautiful. I wanted to thank our parents, mainly hers for giving me their approval. I wanted to thank God for attending. But as I was going through all this in my head, if felt like I was forgetting someone. Then it dawned on me....



Thank you, Lindsay. Thank you for loving me. Anyone else who hears this, you want to know how to love your spouse better? Save your money on books, don't watch Oprah, just watch Lindsay love me. She loves me selflessly. She loves me constantly. She loves me endlessly. She loves me regardless of me. We talked about living in Colorado. She practically had her bags packed. Not because it was something she always dreamed of, but because she saw how much the thought excited me. She just wanted to be where I was. That's how she loves me. She wants to be a part of me. She wants to see what makes me come alive, and she wants to be a part of the journey. She supports me. She believes in me. "I know that I can't do anything wrong" says an Alan Jackson song. Yeah, I know what he means. She loves me to where I feel strong. Even when I have no other reason to feel that way. She makes me feel like I am the thing that excites her most. She makes me feel like I'm the best part of her day. I had a friend tell me that one day while she was singing in church, that you could "see the love in her eyes as she stared at you for a short time." I had no idea, but it doesn't surprise me. She cares for me, she allows me to hurt, she encourages me to get the strength back. She never tries to fix me, but always lets me know it will be ok. She makes me feel that I can do anything, that I can do everything. She makes me laugh, she laughs at and with me. She constantly gives up herself, for me. When I do catch her looking at me, that smile beats any lake or mountain I ever seen. She could've loved anyone she wanted to, and she would've loved them just as well. But she loves me. It's not because anything I've done, anything I deserve. But she loves me still. She makes it easy to love her. She makes me eager to come home. She makes me look forward to Saturday mornings sleeping in. We don't have to go hiking, just as long as it's us. She loves me a lot like Jesus. She brings me closer to Him. As much as I appreciate people coming the wedding, people working the wedding, working to prepare the wedding, I appreciate her more. But more than that, I appreciate her loving me. Thank you, Lindsay. You have taught me how to love well. Hopefully I have learned from your lead.

Our first 50 weeks

As I write this, Lindsay and I have been husband (or "hubby bubby" as some like to say) and wife for 50 weeks. I didn't spend much time on the math, 52 weeks in a year, and two weeks short of our one year anniversary, there you go. Anyway, we have a lot to be proud of as we look back, and even more to be excited about as we look forward. (Sorry mom and mom-in-law that doesn't mean babies any time soon. They're in the plan, just not yet) Most of the people reading this were probably at our wedding, so I'm sure you remember the snow. Lindsay's birthday was the day before. I call her to tell her happy birthday and she's in a panic because of the forecast. "No one's going to come!!!" she managed through sobs on the phone. Turned out just fine didn't it?

So then we take off for a week in Jamaica. As we walk around the resort in our flip flops and bathing suits, we looked in one of the bars and they're showing the NFL playoffs. It's -3 at one, and 4 above at the other. That on top of the fact that when we woke up that morning, I had to chip the ice off my winsheild to drive, all inclusive sunshine is a wonderful thing. Not to rub it in. We climbed waterfalls, rode horses (Scrappy rules!!), some of us got sick on boats (I won't say which one of us did that), wresteled with sand fleas, had a butler bring us drinks in our personal, oceanside cabana as I listened to Dave Matthews for a while, the waves crashing for a while, Jack Johnson for a while, more waves crashing for a while....etc, etc. We learned how truly lucky we are. Not because we're disproportionatley blessed and have one of everything we need and a lot of what we want, but because we don't have to worry about are we going to have any food to last us through the week. Not everyone down there can say that. Despite my protest and better judgement, we came back. By the way, customs sucks!!

So we get back to the land of the pale people and begin our life as a married couple. I'm still waiting on our butler and cabana. I've been waiting for 48 weeks. More good times than bad. Lindsay's cousin Shannon got married the May (maybe it was June) before we did. We're at the wedding and I remember something being said during the toasts that has been stuck in my head every single day since. "May today be as bad as it ever gets". I liked that. I liked that a lot. For the record, we've had days that were worse than January 19th. We've had fights. We've had, "I have to get out of here and drive around the block to cool down" fights. But we can count them on one hand. And they were all over and behind us by the time the sun set on those days. We're fantastic at realizing whatever we're fighting over isn't important enough to go to bed angry. It really may be the thing we're best at. Wanting to love each other more than we want to be right. There was our first Valentine's Day that I totally blew because I was sick. I was so sick I missed out on the dinner at church we planned to go to, at one point going to get a bowl of ice cream. Not to eat, just to sit on my forehead to cool off. I've tried to make up for it since. But it's been good. It's been great. The three of us, Sheba rounding out the triangle. I learned some things over the summer. I'm incredibly selfish. I grew up an only child and took full advantage of it. I had lived by myself literally and practically for eight years. Having to consider what someone else wants to do, someone else's heart, was an adjustment for me. One I'm still working on. Luckily my wife has the patience I lack. I learned what I already thought I knew, that it's an every day thing. Making sure she knows every single day that she's more precious to me than Broncos football, mountains, lakes that look like mirrors, and cabanas. She knows that. I think she really does. But I still have to remind her.

We spent a weekend at Oak Island, as the Webster again were nice enough to let us use their beach house. Lindsay still doesn't loose at putt-putt very well. Though she makes up for it while singing karyoke at an ice cream shop. The sand fleas aren't as vicious domestically, the Papa Bear still hits a special spot, and if you're looking for seagulls, walk on the sand with bread.

Then came our second honeymoon. My favorite place on the planet. Colorado. Denver, Rocky Mountain National Park, Red Rocks, Georgetown, Boulder, Grande Lake, Winter Park, Frasor, Crooked Creek, Estes Park. We had a cabin where all I had to do was roll over in bed to watch the sunrise over the mountains out the window over looking the valley. With all due respect to the beach, the ocean, I'm convinced more than ever that if God has a vacation home, it's in Grand County, Colorado. Watching female elk nurse its young no more than five feet away, learning I really can't walk on water, getting so caught up in the beauty that we leave my dad's video camera at Emerald Lake, realizing that no amount of leg curls at the gym can match the workout that is hiking at two miles above sea level, hearing a bugling elk in the beginning of the "rut" (mating season), feeding squirrels, dipping heads and toes in to Rocky Mountain rivers, claiming previously un-named waterfalls, choosing potential retirement sites, taking a carriage ride through downtown Denver, seeing snow four days after Labor Day, and again against my better judgement, finally coming home.

We setteled in for the last part of the year at home. Lindsay joined my passion for football. Just in an effort to show me how much she loves me. I realize I haven't joined her world as much as she has mine. Hopefully I will do better in our next 50 weeks. She really is amazing. I really am blessed. I also learned what I already thought I knew. People who say marriage stinks, "The ol' ball and chain", insert cliche here...I can see why they would say those things. It can be brutal if you get it wrong. You choose to spend life with the wrong person for the wrong reason, sure...it can be its own form of torture. But do what I did, let God guide your choices and direct your heart, and you get it better than right. You get Lindsay. I used to hate the idea of marraige. Used to. I hadn't met her yet. Thank God I was wrong.