Little glimpses

I was scrolling through the photos on my iPhone today and I kept finding these really random ones. I had to think for a while to figure out why I had these bizarre shots. Then I realized that most of them were pictures of things in my life that I took to text to Brian.

Regular readers are very aware (and most likely bored of hearing) that life has been crazy for the two of us lately. In order to stay connected with my husband, I’ve been texting him photos of parts of my day. Here are some examples:

This is the back of my journal that I made with my students in class. We all decorated journals and we write in them all the time– one of my favorite new things! And Brian made the late night run for more clear packing tape to cover them with. I thought he needed to see it ūüôā

I worked on this story map for a few hours. I used one last year, but it was ugly and copied poorly. This one is beautiful and copies well– and I created it all in Word! I was proud of my little teacher self, so I had to show Brian.

I sent this one yesterday at the retreat. There was a photo directory in our binders, and my handsome husband was in there with me!

Brian helped with with some technology issues today over FaceTime, but we were unsuccessful. I had to write up a tech help request and got a little silly with it. Thought Brian would appreciate seeing this before I pushed “Submit.”

They’re goofy. They’re not all that interesting. But these are glimpses into my life. And I want my husband in my life– in all the parts. So, these little pictures keep him up to date until I can come home and ramble on and on, and then answer his million questions.

 

Hump day

We went to Chuy’s tonight for Hatch Green Chile Fest– special menu and crazy decorations. It was wonderful.

We sipped our spicy martinis and talked about work. We both had lots of stories. We talked and talked. We ate and ate. Then, we rolled out of there and journeyed home.

I got to work and knocked out some lesson to-do’s pretty quickly. Brian is napping beside me. He needed some shut eye before hitting his evening workload. We’re about to pass each other again– me going to sleep and him waking up to get to work. Sigh.

When we got home, we both talked about how great dinner together out was. It wasn’t date night or anything– just a chance for us to connect and check in. But it was special. So special.

Brian asked very pointed questions about my job and my school life. He is genuinely interested in me and my life. And tonight, he made me feel quite special. And then it got really great when we both geeked out over the podcast we listen to every day from Albert Mohler, and talked about theology and having a Christian worldview. Nerdy, but true.

We connected. We caught up. We smiled and laughed. We filled up on spicy food. Then, we got geeky. Now, I’m going to sleep at 9pm.

Great. Wednesday. Night.

Something outside

Brian and I have been racing around for a couple weeks now.

Tonight was our missional community group, so I couldn’t stay at the school until late (though, I just now finished my lesson and it’s almost midnight– ugh). We had just a few moments to throw together a meal and spend some time together before we went our separate ways (guys and gals met separately tonight), and what did we do with those moments? Well, we got upset with each other.

I kept thinking about it afterwards and it just made me sad. It was all a result of not communicating well with each other. Again. And I feel like I so rarely see my handsome husband these days– so I hate that we squandered some of that time.

Now, we both rebounded quickly and moved on, but I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Brian is on my side– he’s on Team Lundin and so am I. So, why don’t we act like that more? And on a day where I said multiple times that I really need to be intentional where I’m spending my social/free time (since there’s so little of it), why did we waste those moments today?

I know married people do this. I know friends do this. I know that this is normal. But I don’t necessarily want to be normal, here. I would like us to be atypical in this. And the only way I can see that happening is through a lot of prayer. We’re both tired and grouchy, and have brains that are thinking about work when we’re looking at each other. It’s going to take something outside of us to change what’s going on between us.

Long time, no see

It’s 10:45pm and Brian and I just got home. The week has been crazy. You all know about it on my side (if not, read the posts from Monday and Tuesday), but just when my work life went nuts, so did Brian’s. So, about the time I need my classroom helper, he has a ton of other (albeit, totally legitimate) things to do.

Tonight, I went to my brother’s birthday dinner (good job getting older, Daniel!) alone, because Brian had a work meeting. I went from there out to Dripping Springs to meet him at the storage unit so we could move my classroom belongings¬†to Cedar Park¬†(thank you for the truck, Galligan family!).

When we got out of our vehicles at the storage place, we just smiled at each other. It read, “Long time, no see.”

We went from a summer of both being in the house all the time and having as much together time as we could stand to a sudden flurry of late nights, no meals together, rushing around, and trying to catch each other on the phone. And when I say that the switch was sudden, I mean that the world changed last Thursday.

But, all of my classroom stuff is IN my classroom now (thank the Lord!). Organizing and decorating can begin tomorrow (parents and students come Monday– yikes!). Brian moved box after box without complaint. He was wonderful. And on the long drive from storage unit to new school, we talked on the phone, trying to catch up on the craziness in the other’s life.

I would joke this summer, within earshot of Brian, that my friends needed to let me know when they were free because Brian and I had a little too much time together in the house.¬†It’s funny how quickly things change.

I told him I’d really like a date night when we have time to breathe again… in October ūüėČ

 

Mere mortals

When we got home after church and date night tonight, Brian and I had an awkward conversation.

There was something I really needed to tell him and I wasn’t sure when to do it. Realizing there would never be a perfect opportunity to have this conversation, I walked down the hall and blurted it out.

“B, I’m an organ donor. And when I say organ donor, I mean organs, tissue, eyes–¬†anything¬†that can be used. This is just a body and when I’m done with it, someone else should use it.”

My husband locked eyes with me. The corners of his mouth curled up and his face spread into a smile. He walked up and wrapped his arms around me. “I love you,” he said.

I don’t think I needed to tell Brian that for him to know it. I think that if I was in a terrible accident and wasn’t going to make it, that Brian would know how I felt. I just wanted to say it to make sure. I wanted to make sure that in that moment with stress and anxiety and emotions and heartache, that my wishes were clear. This is just a body. I’m not going to need it where I’m going.

I don’t want to die before Brian. I’m crazy in love with this man. I don’t want his heart to hurt like that. And I don’t want him to go before me, either. I don’t want to live a day without him. He’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me beside God making me his own. In the dream-world in my head, we’ll die at the same time wrapped in each others’ arms like in ‘The Notebook’ so we’ll never have to live a day apart. I realize there’s nothing realistic about that at all… hence the blurting in the hallway.

In pre-marital counseling through Austin Stone, we read John Piper’s¬†This Momentary Marriage. I had a hard time with concepts like not being married to Brian for eternity and the marriage as a picture of Christ and the church. But Piper explains things well, and eventually, I understood.¬†

“So it is with marriage. It is a momentary gift. It may last a lifetime, or it may be snatched away on the honeymoon. Either way, it is short. It may have many bright days, or it may be covered with clouds. If we make secondary things primary, we will be embittered at the sorrows we must face. But if we set our face to make of marriage mainly what God designed it to be, no sorrows and no calamities can stand in our way. Every one of them will be, not an obstacle to success, but a way to succeed. The beauty of the covenant-keeping love between Christ and his church shines brightest when nothing but Christ can sustain it.

Very soon the shadow will give way to Reality. The partial will pass into the Perfect. The foretaste will lead to the Banquet. The troubled path will end in Paradise. A hundred candle-lit evenings will come to their consummation in the marriage supper of the Lamb. And this momentary marriage will be swallowed up by Life. Christ will be all and in all. And the purpose of marriage will be complete.

To that end may God give us eyes to see what matters most in this life. May the Holy Spirit, whom he sends, make his crucified and risen Son the supreme Treasure of our lives. And may the Treasure so satisfy our souls that the root of every marriage-destroying impulse is severed. And may the marriage-watching world be captivated by the covenant-keeping love of Christ.”

We won’t live forever. And more than likely, one of us will have to live on this earth for some time without the other. And if I spend all my time clinging to Brian, when he’s gone, I’m left with nothing. But if our marriage is focused on Christ, then would I lose the love of my life, but not my reason for living.

 

My husband is insane

Yesterday Brian recalled our day from his point of view, mentioning the obsessive Olympics viewing with three screens going at once. Yes, three sets of sports going, and sometimes more than one would have the audio blaring.

It’s too much input for me. Brian can do that– he can have something in his earbuds that’s separate from the visual on a desktop screen and he’ll be flipping through text on the iPad, all at the same time. I can’t chew gum and walk.

He also remembers a great deal of the information he bombards himself with. If I’m not focusing on something, I probably won’t remember it at all– and that’s one thing at a time. He’s crazy. This behavior is insane. Except, it works for him.

Brian’s brain works differently than mine. He is stimulated by the constant¬†barrage of information, whereas I’m overwhelmed by it. I have to remember this in conversation– that his brain works differently.¬†¬†And he has to remember that mine does, too.

We learned early on that Brian continues to think about issues after they are talked about and often returns to those conversations with new thoughts or perspectives. He is quick with responses, but I am slow with them. He has an opinion about everything. Everything. He likes debate and the types of conversations I would deem arguments. Tone is the lens through which I will hear words– and the tone is what stays with me, not the words. I like one thing at a time. Our brains work differently.

But I love his brain. It was one of the first things I noticed about him. I told him again today that his intelligence is sexy. It really is. He is a thinker, an analyzer, and an information junkie. And what I see as sensory overload is a wonderful Sunday afternoon to him. I went upstairs and scrubbed the shower. It was great.

Trash talk

I am learning how to speak to my husband directly. I guess I’m getting past the niceties and hemming and hawing and getting down to actually saying things to my husband. I’m not a very direct or confrontational person. Well, I’m not at all– I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings and I let that get the best of me.

This inability to speak directly doesn’t work within a marriage, so I’m working on it. It has taken some very long and drawn out conversations, a lot of self talk, and a bit of prayer, but I am finally able to ask my husband a question. Don’t laugh. I do realize I can be a ridiculous person and I’m working on it. This is a fault that torments me– why can’t I make a simple statement or ask a simple question?

 

The following conversations are not recorded verbatim, but are pretty darn accurate examples of one month into this marriage versus four and a half months in:

One month in:

Lindsey: Hey, honey. Oh, hey, yeah. You look nice today. Yeah… So, umm, I would really love it, IF you have time, if you would umm… oh nevermind. I got it. I’ll take care of it. You look busy. And really nice– did I say that? Yeah, you’re great. Love you!

(Lindsey leaves and takes out the trash)

Same issue four and a half months in:

Lindsey: Hey, B– can you take out the trash, please?

Brian: You got it. I’ll do it when I go downstairs.

Lindsey: Thank you!

 

Yes– this happened. I didn’t want to be a “nag” and I let that consume me– to the point I wouldn’t even ask for help around the house.

But here’s the deal: I am not alone in this marriage. I need help and sometimes the help I need is not obvious to Brian. If I keep trying to do everything myself, I’m going to start resenting him and that doesn’t lead to anywhere good. And if I can’t even ask him to take out the trash, how will I verbalize when I have an actual need?

I can’t let my obsessive fear of becoming a nagging wife turn me into a silent, resentful one. There is a balance in there somewhere. Direct communication with my husband is a good beginning.