Have you guys seen those books, you know, Humans of New York, or maybe Humans of the Subways, or whatever? Full disclaimer, I don't think I've ever read one, but I'm familiar with the concept because I have a cousin who is purportedly the instigator of this project, which is similar by nature. Funny, I talk to dozens of people everywhere I go, but never have I talked to this particular cousin about this particular project. Of course, we live far away one from another. I saw on the website that the original People of Pictou County project was started in May of 2013. For all I know I haven't even seen her since then. Shameful, yes.
Anyhow, I have never started a project like that. I don't go around canvassing for cool stories or interesting vignettes from the people I meet. But... Sometimes I think I should. I could literally write a book about all the different cool stories I hear, the little glimpses into so many different lives. Sometimes they're non-consequential, like someone telling me that they had an arranged marriage, sometimes they make me cry (sir, I have never forgotten you), and sometimes they're just... cute.
(I have, in the spirit on irony, pretended to trademark the "LifeStory" phrase, even. I gave it up after about a day, though. It was tedious and not at all ironic, when it came down to it.)
The other day, for instance, I was in the store, trying to make a return. There was an older couple in line in front of me and they were likewise making a return, and, as is the manner of my whole life, somehow they started talking to me about, you know, their whole life.
Years ago she was on a blind date with a guy who ended up just being stupid. I mean, throwing popcorn at her in the movie theater kind of stupid. She was trying to make him stop ("He was embarrassing and rude!") when another theater patron came to her rescue. ("I told him to stop disturbing the rest of us and leave his gal alone!") As is the manner with all cute stories, there was a twist: patron B realized that he knew patron A, and felt embarrassed that his "friend" would treat a gal like this. When the girl realized that someone sided with her on the rudeness of her blind date ("I vowed never would I endure a blind date again! Of course," she added slyly, "I didn't have to!") she demanded that he (the friend of the blind date) take her home.
("Were you there with another person?"
"Yes, but we were there as friends, a group of us, and I sent them all home together.")
This didn't mean he was off the hook. No way, no friend of this rude boy was a friend of hers. So, when they got home, she had him drop her off a block away from her house. And pretended to go into some random house till her left.
So, when he came back the next day to find her ("She was smart, and she was sassy! A gal like that is hard to come by!") she wasn't at the house he expected. Undeterred, he went on to the next house. Also, the next. Also, the next. He went to every house on the block until he found her. And even so, she wasn't so sure about him. She did decide to give him a chance, though, because she admired his tenacity.
I'll spare you the details of their whole story, though I'm pretty sure I got the whole thing, but one notable detail was that on their first real date they went to this fancy restaurant and they were seated and then she started seeing other meals as they were coming out and looked him straight in the eye and said, "I don't have money for this, and neither do you. We're not eating here." and they left. ("We had a burger instead," he said. "It's all I wanted anyhow.") "That was more than 55 years ago," she said proudly, "and I've been saving him money ever since!"
By this point we had two sales clerks and about half a dozen onlookers enjoying the hilarity of this couple's cuteness. We'd both finished our returns and were just standing to the side of the desks, talking like we were best friends.
"Sweetie," she told me, "we hear about all these kids who just quit on their marriages, and we just can't understand that. We've been married 55 years now, and we had some rough times, but I love him. And more importantly, I like him."
His arm was around her and drew her a little closer and beamed, "She's my gal. I wouldn't have it any other way."
We talked longer (of course), but when they left the store they were holding hands, happy to show the world (OK, me, two clerks, and half a dozen other strangers) that they were happy. That after 55 years it's possible that you can not just still love someone, but like them, too.
Showing posts with label relationship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relationship. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Things I learned in 2012
Wait, I'm sorry, is this belated at all?
Ironically, I really did compile this list when 2013 was yet fresh. I even talked up the concept of a "What I learned" list and at least one friend jumped on the bandwagon and did a list for 2012 back when I did mine in January. I just... Forgot to publish this post. So this is old, but the ideas are still good ones.
Right? *coughcough*
Without further ado, and in no particular order:
1) Never put a pen through your clothes drier. The washing machine isn't so bad, it's the drier that will never be the same.
2) Humans as a whole are remarkably unobservant. For instance, I got my hair cut about a foot and only three people noticed. Total.
3) I, also being human, am not observant. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say I can think of at least two instances where I was the last to notice something that directly related to me.
4) There's a lot to learn in the Bible. A lot.
5) I shouldn't be allowed to play shooting games. While at my sister's house over the summer I was trying to play Portal, and anytime something shot at me, I about hid under the desk. A game that involved real shooting would probably be very damaging to my psyche.
6) There are a lot of problem in life. Sometimes I learn of GIANT situations that I didn't know about, and think, "Why so many problems everywhere?" Nobody is exempt, it seems.
7) My life is not my own. I mean, nobody's is, but... I have learned recently that it's very much true of me, as well.
PS this has the same disclaimer as last year. These aren't all new things, just thoughts that presented themselves to me in various ways through the year.
Ironically, I really did compile this list when 2013 was yet fresh. I even talked up the concept of a "What I learned" list and at least one friend jumped on the bandwagon and did a list for 2012 back when I did mine in January. I just... Forgot to publish this post. So this is old, but the ideas are still good ones.
Right? *coughcough*
Without further ado, and in no particular order:
1) Never put a pen through your clothes drier. The washing machine isn't so bad, it's the drier that will never be the same.
2) Humans as a whole are remarkably unobservant. For instance, I got my hair cut about a foot and only three people noticed. Total.
3) I, also being human, am not observant. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say I can think of at least two instances where I was the last to notice something that directly related to me.
4) There's a lot to learn in the Bible. A lot.
5) I shouldn't be allowed to play shooting games. While at my sister's house over the summer I was trying to play Portal, and anytime something shot at me, I about hid under the desk. A game that involved real shooting would probably be very damaging to my psyche.
6) There are a lot of problem in life. Sometimes I learn of GIANT situations that I didn't know about, and think, "Why so many problems everywhere?" Nobody is exempt, it seems.
7) My life is not my own. I mean, nobody's is, but... I have learned recently that it's very much true of me, as well.
PS this has the same disclaimer as last year. These aren't all new things, just thoughts that presented themselves to me in various ways through the year.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Some neighbors are easy to spot
There's that age-old question about who exactly your neighbor is. Obviously, in the context of Luke 10, it's talking about more than just the guy who lives in the house next to you. Well, today I'm talking about neighbors. Specifically, the kind who live right next to me.
So, I have these neighbors. I shall call them... Wendell and Michelle. Those aren't their real names, but I don't want to be that person who's outright gossiping about neighbors so that next time you come to visit me and we casually howdy them as they take out their trash you recognize the name and think, "THAT'S who she was talking about?" So their real names shall forever remain a mystery to my fair readership. Anyhow, I write about them because they are the least happy couple ever. Now that spring has sprung, the storm windows are off, and our house has warm breezes gusting in the windows, carrying the scent of freshly mown lawns (mown? is that how it's spelled?), sunshine, and... yelling from next door.
Now, here's the deal. I'm not foolish enough to think that anyone can coexist without disagreement (unless one of the persons is in a coma, in which case the other person still might be upset, but that's beside the point), but yelling at each other every single day? And I'm not just talking about "Well, it's YOUR turn to take out the trash!" I'm talking about ugly arguments. Trust me, I've heard both sides of their respective stories, and it's always ugly.
What I don't understand is how they can possibly have any sort of foundation in their relationship. Honestly, with what goes on over there, I don't know how they can stand to be around one another.
So if anyone thinks of it, maybe pray for my poor neighbors, Wendell and Michelle. The neighbor on the other side of their house came to talk to us one day, and both of our houses decided that when we heard them fighting, we'd be putting in extra prayer time for them, sort of like they're sandwiched by prayer. I'm sorry to report that I haven't noticed it helping, but anyhow, we do what we can, my friends. We do what we can.
So, I have these neighbors. I shall call them... Wendell and Michelle. Those aren't their real names, but I don't want to be that person who's outright gossiping about neighbors so that next time you come to visit me and we casually howdy them as they take out their trash you recognize the name and think, "THAT'S who she was talking about?" So their real names shall forever remain a mystery to my fair readership. Anyhow, I write about them because they are the least happy couple ever. Now that spring has sprung, the storm windows are off, and our house has warm breezes gusting in the windows, carrying the scent of freshly mown lawns (mown? is that how it's spelled?), sunshine, and... yelling from next door.
Now, here's the deal. I'm not foolish enough to think that anyone can coexist without disagreement (unless one of the persons is in a coma, in which case the other person still might be upset, but that's beside the point), but yelling at each other every single day? And I'm not just talking about "Well, it's YOUR turn to take out the trash!" I'm talking about ugly arguments. Trust me, I've heard both sides of their respective stories, and it's always ugly.
What I don't understand is how they can possibly have any sort of foundation in their relationship. Honestly, with what goes on over there, I don't know how they can stand to be around one another.
So if anyone thinks of it, maybe pray for my poor neighbors, Wendell and Michelle. The neighbor on the other side of their house came to talk to us one day, and both of our houses decided that when we heard them fighting, we'd be putting in extra prayer time for them, sort of like they're sandwiched by prayer. I'm sorry to report that I haven't noticed it helping, but anyhow, we do what we can, my friends. We do what we can.
Monday, November 15, 2010
All or nothing
This past weekend I learned a lot. It was a good weekend. One of the things that was excellent and garnered much discussion amongst the circle I run with was some discussion about giving your all to the Lord. The example used was that nobody would ever dream of talking about getting married and say, "Yeah, I'll pledge myself to this person 85%" or even 99%, truth be told. Marriage is supposed to be a 100% effort from both parties, and it seems absurd to think of someone promising just a portion of themself to their spouse-to-be.
But... really? Isn't that what we do to the Lord? We say we'll serve Him, and we do, but... only on our terms. We want to serve him with the part of ourselves we have left after we're done catering to our our whims. The Lord (obviously) deserves more than a half-hearted effort on our part to be His. He wants us, heart and soul, in entirety.
It's easy to want that. To want that relationship with the Lord, where all burdens, all decisions, all choices, are placed on the altar before Him. But when it comes down to it, we're mostly not willing to go that far. To give every aspect of our lives over to the Lord, to leave nothing for ourselves. It takes a complete willingness to give control. A complete willingness to surrender all. I love that hymn, "I surrender all" but when it comes down to it, I'm not able to say that I truly have surrendered my all.
I'm not my own, I'm bought with a price, but for some reason it wrongly feels like a price, rather than a privilege, to give back.
"Love will come to save us, if we'll only call, He will ask nothing of us, but demand we give our all." Lyrics from a great song from the Fireproof movie. They seemed quite fitting for my current thoughts.
And that's all. For now.
But... really? Isn't that what we do to the Lord? We say we'll serve Him, and we do, but... only on our terms. We want to serve him with the part of ourselves we have left after we're done catering to our our whims. The Lord (obviously) deserves more than a half-hearted effort on our part to be His. He wants us, heart and soul, in entirety.
It's easy to want that. To want that relationship with the Lord, where all burdens, all decisions, all choices, are placed on the altar before Him. But when it comes down to it, we're mostly not willing to go that far. To give every aspect of our lives over to the Lord, to leave nothing for ourselves. It takes a complete willingness to give control. A complete willingness to surrender all. I love that hymn, "I surrender all" but when it comes down to it, I'm not able to say that I truly have surrendered my all.
I'm not my own, I'm bought with a price, but for some reason it wrongly feels like a price, rather than a privilege, to give back.
"Love will come to save us, if we'll only call, He will ask nothing of us, but demand we give our all." Lyrics from a great song from the Fireproof movie. They seemed quite fitting for my current thoughts.
And that's all. For now.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Waiting Game
We play many games. Twister. Dating. Monopoly. Some games we like (Guess Who?, Scrabble, Bejeweled) and some we don't (... Monopoly and dating are two that come immediately to mind). And a lot of parts of life we refer to as games that probably aren't (for instance, dating. Not really a game. I just get tired of what I call "the dating game" amongst youngsters who treat it carelessly, hence the less-than-fuzzy feelings I'm feeling towards it right now), like, for instance, waiting.
We all wait for this or that. Some people wait for the mail, some people wait for a kind word, some wait for a grandchild, and some wait for the eyebrows to grow back. All kinds of things. But I was thinking about waiting last night, as I was listening to Air1 (they have some crazy songs, but I like them mostly). They played a song called "For Those Who Wait" and it's by a band called Fireflight. Now, I'm not wholly certain what the song is about (though it did have words about a "waiting game" which is why I'm suddenly calling waiting a game), but I think it mostly has to do with waiting on the Lord. I think. I don't know. I was driving, and sometimes I pay attention to the road instead of the music. Weird, I know.
Anyhow, the bridge of the song went along the lines of "the pressures make us stronger, the lessons make the difference, the struggle makes us hunger." Something. I guess I could look up the lyrics. No, I'm feeling lazy.
As much as we don't want to wait, it's so helpful for us to wait. And there are so many helpful, and healthy things we can do while waiting (again, this waiting is for anything, be it the pizza delivery guy, that upcoming concert, or for your passport to come). And I think that's the way it was designed to be.
Do you remember the story where Saul was waiting for Samuel to come, but he didn't show up for a whole week, so Saul just sort of up and did some sacrifices, and then when Samuel came (like five minutes later, of course), he confronted Saul about he'd stepped out of bounds and done the sacrifices himself. Well, Saul's answer was that he felt obliged to for a bunch of reasons (the bad guys would get him, the people were scattering), so he just did it.
Please note, I am not an exact translation. Thank you.
So anyhow, Saul just didn't want to wait. So he didn't. And I don't blame him, in a certain sense. I mean, how many of us would just wait patiently for an entire week?! If someone says they'll be at the bus station on Friday, I'm not just going to sit around and wait for him for a whole week, you know? I'd be those people, scattering, and I'd probably be Saul, just taking charge and doing the sacrifices for lack of someone better to do them.
Woe is me. What a terrible attitude! They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary, they shall walk, and not faint.
If you want a list of verses about waiting, see Mrs. B's blog for a very good post on the subject.
There's another song (I'm really into this song thing today, hope that doesn't bother anybody) by John Waller called "While I'm Waiting" and it was used in the Fireproof soundtrack (great movie, great soundtrack) and I love listening to it. It just brings to mind that while we're waiting, we should be hopeful, and serving, and patient. "I'm waiting on you, Lord, though it is painful, I will wait."
That's the sort of attitude with which I want to wait.
We all wait for this or that. Some people wait for the mail, some people wait for a kind word, some wait for a grandchild, and some wait for the eyebrows to grow back. All kinds of things. But I was thinking about waiting last night, as I was listening to Air1 (they have some crazy songs, but I like them mostly). They played a song called "For Those Who Wait" and it's by a band called Fireflight. Now, I'm not wholly certain what the song is about (though it did have words about a "waiting game" which is why I'm suddenly calling waiting a game), but I think it mostly has to do with waiting on the Lord. I think. I don't know. I was driving, and sometimes I pay attention to the road instead of the music. Weird, I know.
Anyhow, the bridge of the song went along the lines of "the pressures make us stronger, the lessons make the difference, the struggle makes us hunger." Something. I guess I could look up the lyrics. No, I'm feeling lazy.
As much as we don't want to wait, it's so helpful for us to wait. And there are so many helpful, and healthy things we can do while waiting (again, this waiting is for anything, be it the pizza delivery guy, that upcoming concert, or for your passport to come). And I think that's the way it was designed to be.
Do you remember the story where Saul was waiting for Samuel to come, but he didn't show up for a whole week, so Saul just sort of up and did some sacrifices, and then when Samuel came (like five minutes later, of course), he confronted Saul about he'd stepped out of bounds and done the sacrifices himself. Well, Saul's answer was that he felt obliged to for a bunch of reasons (the bad guys would get him, the people were scattering), so he just did it.
Please note, I am not an exact translation. Thank you.
So anyhow, Saul just didn't want to wait. So he didn't. And I don't blame him, in a certain sense. I mean, how many of us would just wait patiently for an entire week?! If someone says they'll be at the bus station on Friday, I'm not just going to sit around and wait for him for a whole week, you know? I'd be those people, scattering, and I'd probably be Saul, just taking charge and doing the sacrifices for lack of someone better to do them.
Woe is me. What a terrible attitude! They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary, they shall walk, and not faint.
If you want a list of verses about waiting, see Mrs. B's blog for a very good post on the subject.
There's another song (I'm really into this song thing today, hope that doesn't bother anybody) by John Waller called "While I'm Waiting" and it was used in the Fireproof soundtrack (great movie, great soundtrack) and I love listening to it. It just brings to mind that while we're waiting, we should be hopeful, and serving, and patient. "I'm waiting on you, Lord, though it is painful, I will wait."
That's the sort of attitude with which I want to wait.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Wink, wink, amen
I just realized that me saying "wink, wink, amen," will be funny to the approximately two people who remember the prayer in which that was said. To the rest of you, I'm sorry. You had to be there.
But I've been pondering recently a rather odd phenomenon. Odd by nature because I don't find it odd. Allow me to explain.
I'm rather old-fashioned at heart. When I say that I don't mean I have an ivory bedroom set with lace bed curtains, but rather that I tend to err on the side of that-was-inappropriate-100-years-and-it-should-still-be-that-way. Which is why it's very odd that I don't freak out more negatively when dudes flirt with me.
Sure, I give them the stink eye (I've perfected it, and taught fellow-sisters how to glare just so, in order to properly discourage the fellow), but I'm not appalled like I think maybe I should be. I was driving home from work this week when an older gentleman decided to pull his car directly beside mine and wave and blow me kisses. I looked away.
However, once I was out of his sight (well, I could still see him waving out the window all the way up the block) I laughed hysterically. He was at least eighty, no joke.
Then (once the laughter had run its course) I stopped to consider that perhaps that shouldn't be funny to me at all. Instead of laughing, perhaps I should have remarked that "a not-so-distinguished-looking gentleman in a rusty-looking horseless carriage shocked me with a scandalous display of blown kisses and outright googly-eyes." I think he was crazy and appalling, but I didn't go home and sob in my journal that I was mistaken for a woman who was interested in a stranger's advances (I can tell you right now, though, my stink eye usually does a lot to ward off those advances).
So what gives? Has it just become acceptable that men act untowardly towards women they've never met? When did that become OK? And why don't I trouble myself about it?
Actually, I think I don't worry about it because there's nothing I can do about it. I certainly don't encourage it (my face of steel and the one-eyebrow lift is enough for them to realize that I don't think it's funny), and I typically don't initiate such things. Apparently there was some time when I flirted with the waiter at a restaurant (I still maintain my innocence), but in general I don't make a habit of waving at strange fellows for no reason.
I just wish I had a T-shirt that echoed my sentiments. What shall it say, "Class Non-Flirt?" I can't decide if that would draw the boys in that we-love-a-challenge way or repel them in that um-whatever kind of way.
To all the hearts I've troubled with my own errors, however, I wish I could apologize. To that dude in the restaurant in Chicago, I'm sorry I flirted. Seriously, I just wanted you to bring me my soup while it was still hot.
But I've been pondering recently a rather odd phenomenon. Odd by nature because I don't find it odd. Allow me to explain.
I'm rather old-fashioned at heart. When I say that I don't mean I have an ivory bedroom set with lace bed curtains, but rather that I tend to err on the side of that-was-inappropriate-100-years-and-it-should-still-be-that-way. Which is why it's very odd that I don't freak out more negatively when dudes flirt with me.
Sure, I give them the stink eye (I've perfected it, and taught fellow-sisters how to glare just so, in order to properly discourage the fellow), but I'm not appalled like I think maybe I should be. I was driving home from work this week when an older gentleman decided to pull his car directly beside mine and wave and blow me kisses. I looked away.
However, once I was out of his sight (well, I could still see him waving out the window all the way up the block) I laughed hysterically. He was at least eighty, no joke.
Then (once the laughter had run its course) I stopped to consider that perhaps that shouldn't be funny to me at all. Instead of laughing, perhaps I should have remarked that "a not-so-distinguished-looking gentleman in a rusty-looking horseless carriage shocked me with a scandalous display of blown kisses and outright googly-eyes." I think he was crazy and appalling, but I didn't go home and sob in my journal that I was mistaken for a woman who was interested in a stranger's advances (I can tell you right now, though, my stink eye usually does a lot to ward off those advances).
So what gives? Has it just become acceptable that men act untowardly towards women they've never met? When did that become OK? And why don't I trouble myself about it?
Actually, I think I don't worry about it because there's nothing I can do about it. I certainly don't encourage it (my face of steel and the one-eyebrow lift is enough for them to realize that I don't think it's funny), and I typically don't initiate such things. Apparently there was some time when I flirted with the waiter at a restaurant (I still maintain my innocence), but in general I don't make a habit of waving at strange fellows for no reason.
I just wish I had a T-shirt that echoed my sentiments. What shall it say, "Class Non-Flirt?" I can't decide if that would draw the boys in that we-love-a-challenge way or repel them in that um-whatever kind of way.
To all the hearts I've troubled with my own errors, however, I wish I could apologize. To that dude in the restaurant in Chicago, I'm sorry I flirted. Seriously, I just wanted you to bring me my soup while it was still hot.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Back to Up
I mentioned the Disney/Pixar movie Up a few weeks ago, and I was pondering it the other day. And today, I guess.
A fact about me: I'm not romantically attached to anybody in any particular way. Thankfully. =) One day I might be ready. Moving on.
So here's the deal: sometimes I wonder if love is worth it. That quote from Tennyson, the one that goes, "'Tis better to have lost and lost/ than to have never loved at all," always struck a nerve with me, if that makes any sense. Sometimes I'm convinced that love isn't worth it. First, look at the percentages of marriages that don't last. Oh, and pause and consider the number of marriages that have lasted, but as a technicality, because the marriage itself hasn't held up internally. Then consider the people who aren't in marriages yet have crummy relationships.
And that's just marriage. Don't get me started on the games people play before they get to that point.
Sure, marriage seems scary and like a lot of work. This much we all recognize. But what scares me worse than that is the thought that one day, after you've worked through the agonizing parts, and come out stronger on the other side, blah blah blah, if the Lord doesn't come... well, that spouse (or you, whichever) is going to die. Raptured or dead, those are the only options. Doesn't that sound cynical? News flash, I am sort of cynical.
So we've determined that I'm cynical and that marriage seems big and scary. What does this have to do with Up?
For those who have seen the movie, they will immediately remember the first 11 minutes of the film, wherein a touching story is shown of the life of Carl and Ellie, a couple who went through a lot (death of a child=supposedly one of the worst things that can happen to a person, though I don't know from personal experience), and lived life to the fullest. Until Ellie died. Bummer.
But it was so sad! And even at the end of the movie, when I knew that Carl was happy and hanging out with his newest pal Russell, it was sad, because I knew that for every day Carl was enjoying his favorite activities with Russell, it must have hurt him, because those were Ellie's favorite places, too.
Odd to consider this in such depth, but I'm sort of an odd duck.
So there we have it. Loving and losing sounds frightening. Everyone says it's worth it, but this girl needs a little more convincing.
A fact about me: I'm not romantically attached to anybody in any particular way. Thankfully. =) One day I might be ready. Moving on.
So here's the deal: sometimes I wonder if love is worth it. That quote from Tennyson, the one that goes, "'Tis better to have lost and lost/ than to have never loved at all," always struck a nerve with me, if that makes any sense. Sometimes I'm convinced that love isn't worth it. First, look at the percentages of marriages that don't last. Oh, and pause and consider the number of marriages that have lasted, but as a technicality, because the marriage itself hasn't held up internally. Then consider the people who aren't in marriages yet have crummy relationships.
And that's just marriage. Don't get me started on the games people play before they get to that point.
Sure, marriage seems scary and like a lot of work. This much we all recognize. But what scares me worse than that is the thought that one day, after you've worked through the agonizing parts, and come out stronger on the other side, blah blah blah, if the Lord doesn't come... well, that spouse (or you, whichever) is going to die. Raptured or dead, those are the only options. Doesn't that sound cynical? News flash, I am sort of cynical.
So we've determined that I'm cynical and that marriage seems big and scary. What does this have to do with Up?
For those who have seen the movie, they will immediately remember the first 11 minutes of the film, wherein a touching story is shown of the life of Carl and Ellie, a couple who went through a lot (death of a child=supposedly one of the worst things that can happen to a person, though I don't know from personal experience), and lived life to the fullest. Until Ellie died. Bummer.
But it was so sad! And even at the end of the movie, when I knew that Carl was happy and hanging out with his newest pal Russell, it was sad, because I knew that for every day Carl was enjoying his favorite activities with Russell, it must have hurt him, because those were Ellie's favorite places, too.
Odd to consider this in such depth, but I'm sort of an odd duck.
So there we have it. Loving and losing sounds frightening. Everyone says it's worth it, but this girl needs a little more convincing.
Monday, November 16, 2009
And that's why it's called life-long
So, some of us were talking about marriage last weekend (does Monday count as part of the weekend?), and it wasn't one of those "yay marriage" times, but one of those "HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN???" times. Basically, here's what we were wondering: How do people ever get married?
Seriously, how do two people decide that the Lord is telling them without a shadow of a doubt that that other person is absolutely the person for them? Honestly, how does a person get to that place in their life? And on a closer level, how do two people decide that it's an appropriate time to start a relationship at all? I was just reading about Jim and Elisabeth Elliot, and they waited for five years until they thought the Lord was cool with them having a relationship. As crazy and long as that sounds, sometimes I think that I'll have to wait for at least five years, just to make sure I think I know what I'm getting into.
But I'm just jaded. Marriage is something I'm looking forward to potentially being a part of one day (though I may not be, which is fine), and I assume that I'll have times of extreme dislike towards my husband. Isn't that awful? I like to think I'm just practical, but secretly, I think I'm just way more jaded than any 20-year-old should be.
I had a chance to recount this story to someone the other day, and usually once I've recounted a story once, it's out of my system and I'm good and done, but this story is a good one, so I'll tell it again.
The other day I got home from work and wanted a chance to put through some laundry before supper, but I knew my dad was coming home soon, and could see that the table wasn't even set yet. So I as I was flying up the stairs to put my stuff away, I hollered at my brother, "hey, the table needs to be set!" When I came down with the laundry I saw that the table still hadn't been set, and I didn't want to seem like I was getting down on my brother, so I set the table myself. When I came up from the basement after putting through some laundry, I was greeted with the sight of my mom and brother carrying in groceries from the car.
"Mom, how did you rate? I asked him to help me set the table, and he didn't. Why is he helping you carry in groceries?"
(I just want to go on record as saying that my mother is far more worthy of help than I, but I was saying this loudly enough in his hearing to try to drive a point home.)
A blank look came from my brother. "You didn't ask me to set the table, you just said it needed setting!"
I seriously stared at him in... something. My mom just looked at me and laughed and laughed and said that boys were like this, and I should get used to it. And of course I had to laugh as well, because it was rather funny.
But... that's just another thing that frightens me about marriage--being married to an obtuse creature such as my brother. Sometimes I understand why so many woman are staying single these days!
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