the guy

i'm not sure how to start this post off. i have a lot to say, so much that it's brimming over and twisting my tongue into knots with the magnitude of how to begin. i feel like whatever i say, no matter how carefully thought out and prepared for your eyes, will fall entirely too short.

it's about this guy. this man i've spoken off in bits and pieces, mostly because he doesn't mind being waiting offstage while i write my soul in the center.

this man i call "husband."

and i'm ashamed to say, i've had the sun in my eyes. too blind to honestly appreciate just how much this man has done for me, and is doing in days of exhausted wife with piled clothes and unwashed plates.

he works in a factory, fifty hours of grind, and still has a volunteer's pager strapped to his belt for when fires start and cars flip over. he works all day, and sometimes late at night when the beeping wakes us both and he grabs for boots with bleary eyes and tousled blonde hair, barely time to press a kiss to my sleeping lips before he's gone out the door to save a life.

now he takes the piled jeans and puts them in the machine, and washes dirty plates and knives when my feet ache too much to stand. and when my stomach churns, he sits outside the door because it makes him sick too. but he does what he can because he doesn't want to leave me alone.

there's late-night runs for grape slushies and onion rings with ranch dressing, and countless nights of sleep disturbed while his wife tosses in discomfort and leaves little room for him in bed with the thousand curving pillows and left-side sleeping.

and still his strong fingers find that one spot in my back and press for relief, and rub my neck and brush my hair. this is man i share a booth with, pancakes and bacon and root beer every Saturday morning. the exhausted man, the hard-working man.

{via pinterest}

the one who kisses my nose and brings home chocolate when he knows i'm overwhelmed. the man who holds me in one arm with the other hand on my stomach, waiting to feel the kicks for himself.

and my daughter carries his genes. oh, how honoured i am to carry the strength of this man's flesh and bone merged with mine to create a whole new tiny warrioress for the world. she is not all me -- she bears more than my feeble strength. she has his too, and i am so glad.

this is the man i'm having a baby with, the one i'm sharing my life with. the one that waited in a white suit with a red rose on his lapel at the end of a long aisle two and a half years ago.

this is my husband. this is my hero.

so the nights will still be long, but he will still tangle his legs with mine and run his fingers through my hair while he rubs my back and waits for a little kick to remind him that he is "daddy."

 he is altogether lovely.

this is my beloved, this is my friend,

    daughters of Jerusalem.

paper cranes

{via pinterest}

some people are laden with much, and they buckle. the pressure overwhelms them and they fall to the ground, crying

no more. 

please no more. 

and then there are some that are given so little. and they take these scraps of paper and string and make something so beautiful from their bits of nothing. 

these are the paper cranes. 

the ones made from just paper and string, and yet they rise. they are the lucky ones, these origami people. 

my best friend is a paper crane. 

her paper sweet and her ribbon worn with love and pulling. because people like to pull at precious things and see how long it takes them to break. 

and so they gripped her wings and pulled like little boys to tug the wings from a helpless butterfly while it flaps and weeps for pain and grief

but her wings held fast. 

my paper crane girl. 

she stood holding His hand, and his, and sang like a bird to the skies 

soon red paper turns to white, faded pink ribbon to lace and pearls. 

and she will hold His hand, and His, and whisper i do 

and take to the sky to start anew. 

a bit worn with tear filled eyes, but never torn.

because her man is a paper crane too.

another hard-pressed one whom i admire and love. another one who hasn't torn, but has tended to her wings to make sure she did not rip in two.

i wish you blue skies always, love. but i know, when the rain comes, he will hold your umbrella, and He will hold you both.

my paper cranes in love. 

{linking with the beautiful emily and her imperfect prose}

Bête (Beast)

"A beautiful thing is precious, no matter the price. Those who do not know how to see the precious things in life will never be happy." ~Beastly

Anyone who knows me knows that Beauty and the Beast is my favourite fairytale...my favourite love story...my favourite dream that teeters on the knife's edge between fiction and reality.

There have been hundreds of retellings of this classic tale of rose petals, magic, and the deepest value of inner beauty. One of my absolute favourite versions of this story was penned in this century...a hypnotic modern retelling that appeared first on the page, and then across the silver screen.

Beastly. 


The story of Kyle...strikingly handsome in face, popular and wealthy in lifestyle, and arrogant and cold in heart and soul. One word, one curse...and his flawless features are warped into the scarred, tattooed visage of a modern-day beast. Pushed aside by his horrified father, locked away in a house where none but his blind tutor and his loving housekeeper are witness to his "ruined" appearance.

The story of Lindy...a tenderhearted dreamer in love with roses, burdened by a careless father who makes one mistake too many. Swept into circumstances that lead her straight into Kyle's prison-palace...into a greenhouse full of roses...

...and love enough to break a curse.


I want nothing more than to press this book into the hands of every last human being on this planet...perhaps then a new view could be taken on appearance, on romance, on the realities of love.

Some fool has spread a rumor that women want a certain thing in a man. Strong muscles, masculine features, and a popular streak boosted with money and power.

Like I have said, the person who invented this mentality was a fool...and has passed his foolishness down to twist the minds of men and women both.

Knights don't always come wearing shining silver armour, prancing in atop a white horse...they don't always have perfect hair or flawless skin...they aren't always the most popular or the one with the most fantastic car.

What I care about is behind the helmet and steed.

I want to see the dents.

I want strength of character...depth of heart...eyes that see me and not my body's lack of perfection...hands that can carry me when I can't stand.

Am I the only one that thinks like this? Am I so very strange in my mindset?

If I am, correct me, please.

But not every woman is Cinderella. We don't all want Prince Charming.

Sometimes, all we are is Belle...

...and all we want is a Beast.

I just was scared that you didn't love me. And I didn't think you could because of how ugly I am. I should've known better. That's not who you are. You took one look at me and still said you'd seen worse. And somehow, when I'm around you, I don't feel ugly at all. ~Beastly 

Lundi (Monday)

I'll dissolve when the rain pours in / When the nightmares take me / I will scream with the howling wind / 'Cause it's a bitter world and I'd rather dream...Dizzy love turned a star lily pink / And hung above our lids too flushed to blink...I sang my princess fast asleep / 'Cause she was my dream come true...~Owl City, Lonely Lullaby

Once again, another Monday has come around the bend.

And once again, I feel blessed to have awoken this morning.

My decision to keep my Mondays positive (which can be read about more in this post) has been one of the more intriguing aspects of my week. All throughout the week, I've caught myself noting things that I could mention in regards to my "Monday morning blessings."

It's starting to make an impact on more than just the first day of the week.

The rest of my days are starting to catch up...

...for how can I be lost in my own despair when I am continually making note of those gifts which surround me each morning as I arise, and follow me through each movement of the earth around the sun?

• 8. Every single breath I take. (Yes, this one may seem to be rather cliche...however, with the occurances of this past week, particularly over the weekend...this is something for which I dare not fail to give thanks and count as a mighty blessing.)

• 9. Celebrating the end of an era with a small collection of my dearest and most nerdy of Harry Potter-head friends...and even making a few new ones as well...being able to weep openly in a room full of people who know exactly what I'm feeling, as they are all feeling it, as well

• 10. Having one dearest, loving companion in particular who poured themself out before our Father on my behalf...there is no greater honour, and no greater gift that I could receive than to be lifted to the Throne when I myself am too weak to stand.

• 11. The continual blessings I have received regarding July's Inspirational Giveaway, and all those giveaways that are yet to arrive in the coming months

• 12. Finding my missing silver Hedwig earring! Yes, perhaps this is a small thing, but I had been looking for this small treasure for quite some time, and it reappeared right next to my toe after almost two weeks of searching.

• 13. A book read so many times that the pages are worn, and the corners are dog-eared with love. 

• 14. Beautiful, odd, and melodramatic dreams of brilliant colours and unspoken wishes...filling my nighttime hours with sweetness instead of screams.

Yes, perhaps this is an odd collection of beauty.

But these are my blessings, and I will continue to count them until I run out...

...which I know will never occur.

 "When I'm worried / and I can't sleep / I count my blessings / instead of sheep / and I fall asleep / counting my blessings..." ~Irving Berlin, Count Your Blessings (White Christmas)

Robin

Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world. ~Virgil A. Kraft

I saw my first robin the other day.

I never knew something as small and simple as a red-breasted bird could give me such a rush of hope.

These recent days have truly been a dreadful tangle of cold winds, heavily falling rain, and dull grey skies...

...it almost seems as if spring is playing some silly little trick with my spring-fevered heart.

And then, I see some little sign that maybe things are almost done being so wet and forlorn.

...the pale green tip of a tulip leaf poking up in my grandmother's flower patch...

...the gentle, haunting coo of a mourning dove to wake me from my sleep each morning...

...the celestial romance in invisible pairing of Neptune and Venus in the early morning darkness...

...the bobbing of a robin's scarlet chest against the twists of brown, listless grass.

Spring is coming.

The air is changing, the world is turning.

The world is thawing.

I trust the robin's song.

Unlock

"You, sing me to sleep
Talk down my walls
Look through my windows as I wait
You could be the thief
I give the key to..." ~The Thief, Brooke Fraser

There is something so romantic about a key.

I have held a certain love for them for quite some time.

I wear them about my neck and in my ears in many pieces of jewelry, holding them quite close to my heart.

Yes, it might be just a scrap or two of old bits of metal, melted down and molded into a device for opening a door.

But even still...

Perhaps it is only the silly, foolish romantic in me that find some sort of delicacy in something so humble and insignificant...

... but there is a power to this tiny object.

It is one of kind.

A small, delicate kind of object.

There is such a strength behind something so small...seemingly innocent and fragile.

A key has the power to reveal that which is hidden...

...to find what has been lost...

...to capture a moment forever behind a door, or to free something held captive for far too long.

Keys can do much as much damage as they can do good.

So guard your keys closely...

...or else a thief will come and steal your heart away.

He will unlock your secrets, and hold your treasures.

...but perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all.

There is a romance to be found in keys...

...and it comes when your heart has been stolen away.

Drift

Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott...

...and as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott. ~Lord Tennyson

I wish I could lie down in a boat and drift away.

Perhaps not to the tragic end that Tennyson's Camelot-based heroine found, but still.

The idea of lying back in a small wooden boat and floating down the river, as if in preparation for a funeral pyre being set adrift upon the shimmering surface of the water...

...it has always appealed to me.

Perhaps it is the romantic in me.

Maybe I am more like Anne of Greene Gables than I would like to admit.

Perhaps it is the tranquility of the journey itself.

Being surrounded by nothing but the whispers of the flowing water and the soft trills of songbirds in the trees, the gentle swaying of the boat lulling me into a state of peaceful sleep...

...what writer would not wish for such an adventure?

What poet would not be drawn to such a picture?

Oh, what dreams linger in such magical ideas.

So now I will lie down in my bed, close my eyes...

...and allow my mind to carry me away on the rippling waters of dreams and imagined wishes.

Tonight...

...I drift away.

Nanook and Superman

"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you." ~A. A. Milne

Weddings are amazing.

Maybe it's the massive overdose of "romantic" in me, but there is something so captivating about two people gazing deeply into one another's eyes and promising to be together forever...

...it's amazing.

Yesterday (7-24-10), I attended the wedding of two very amazing friends of mine. I've known the bride (Rachel/Nanook) since Sophomore year of high school, and the groom (Joshua) since Junior year.

As I sat in that church, watching Rachel and Josh hold hands as the minister joined them together as husband and wife, I couldn't help but smile. Their love is truly so very sweet and precious. I have never seen a more excited bride in my entire life.

And, I have to say, their wedding was indeed a reflection of them and their love.

The ceremony was simply precious. The decorations for the sanctuary were simple and breathtaking in their elegance. The bridal party was small and intimate, and the amount of love felt in the room was overwhelming. It truly was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Rachel's uncle (who is also a minister) gave a short, meaningful address to the young lovers. However, my eyes were continually drawn to Josh and Rachel. Even as they looked and listened to the words of wisdom being shared with them, their attention never left one another. It was truly one of the most intimate and romantic moments I have ever seen.

So now, I raise my glass to the newlyweds....

Rachel: You are a beloved and beautiful friend to me. You have been there for me in ways you will never fully realize. I treasure every memory that we have shared together over the past four years of our friendship, and I pray that we make many more in the years to come.

You have truly found a prize in Josh -- your Superman-- and I know that he loves you more than life itself. Keep Christ at the center of your marriage, and remember to lift up your new husband in prayer on a regular basis. Blessings and love to you, my sweet Nanook. (Love, Puppet)

Josh: In the past two and a half years, I have had the privilege of getting to know you and become your friend. Since September of last year, I have watched you romance and tenderly love my dear friend. Yesterday, I watched you make her your bride forever. It is truly incredible to see how much you adore her and how much she means to you.

You are Rachel's "Mr. Darcy" and her Superman. Your relationship is one of the most tender and beautiful things I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Lead Rachel with tenderness and love, pray for her constantly, and never forgot just how precious she truly is.

I wish you both the very best, a life fixated on God, and overflowing with happiness and love.

I love you guys with all my heart.

Congratulations!