NEW BLOGING PLATFORM

All posts will now be featured over at Wordpress: https://kailebicker.wordpress.com/

Thanks!

6 Things Learned from 6 Months of Marriage

We've been married for 6 months now, and in honor of the occasion, I've taken some time to reflect and share what small knowledge I've gained in tying myself to the wonderful man I call my husband:  

1. Forgiveness

He makes me better at apologizing. I’m stubborn, and hate being wrong. But he makes me want to turn inward and examine what I’m doing wrong, and I've discovered that the ability to be humble and apologize is like a muscle, the more you work it out, the easier it gets. Being married to such a humble, gracious, and forgiving man has made me that much more determined to turn obstinacy (and an unhealthy pride in being “strong-willed”) into obedience to my savior and respect towards my husband.

2. Contraception

Birth control is the best drug around. Not to be too personal, but no periods, cramping, and back aches? Monthly costs associated with said syndrome, vanished. Ability to, uh, do what you want, whenever you want? All for the monthly cost of $0. Yes please. 

3. Sex

On the same note, when it comes to sex, let me just say this: we've been working on a “once-or-more-a-day” record. And neither of us likes to break records. Both studies and personal advice from married friends stress the benefits of having regular sex, and I think it’s important to continually make it a high priority. Yeah, I know we’re still smack dab in the “honeymoon phase,” and don’t actually have any trouble mustering up the energy, but still, nothing wrong with long term planning, right? Plus, you know what they say, “Sex is like pizza, even when it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.” Sex is better than anything I could have imagined, and I only become more and more frustrated with the world’s disfigurement of such an amazing gift from God.

I've also learned that there’s nothing like a sweet husband to kick the low self-image demons in the face. Since 15 years old I've struggled with body image, mentally wringing my hands every time I gained a pound, letting it affect my self-worth to an unhealthy degree. Even as I got older, spending time in prayer and successfully reaching a size I felt comfortable in, I felt like I’d reached my limit, a “this-is-as-good-as-it’s-gonna-get” sort of feeling. But God wasn't finished with his healing, and for some reason he decided to give me an adoring husband who’s way too good at consistently letting me know he finds me beautiful, and as time goes by, the old demons have faded even more. Now when I feel like a fatty for eating way too many cheeze-its in one sitting, it’s a shallower sort of disparagement, one that makes me want to be healthier, but not at the cost of hating the body God has given me.  

4. Affection

Coming up on 6 months of marriage and almost 2 years of friendship, and I’m continually astounded how each day I fall more in love with him. He persistently overwhelms me with his patience and love. I can’t help but think about the term used by Don Pedro in Much Ado About Nothing:

"I will, in the interim, undertake one of Hercules' labors, which is, to bring Signior Benedick and the Lady Beatrice into a mountain of affection th'one with th'other." Act 2, Scene 1.

A mountain of affection is precisely the feeling marriage begets. It’s massive in its scope and therefore never hidden from the skyline; and even if it gets dark and becomes harder to see, mountains are immobile things, and there’s no doubt it will stay firmly standing even in the darkest of weather. 

5. Conflict

I love how our fights seem to follow a downward slope as time goes by. Each day we learn how to better serve the other person in the midst of stress and misunderstandings. Being married to your complete opposite can be difficult, but more importantly, extremely rewarding and it forces you to grow and update your own way of innate thinking. One revelation we had is that, as an ENFP, he needs more validation and encouragement in general and on a more consistent basis. I, as an ISTJ, am a more internally motivated person and need less vocal approval. That’s all well and good, except Jon is naturally good at vocally affirming, whereas I can forget to voice my thoughts, and he’s left feeling ignored. I don’t give him enough; he gives me more than I need. I've found that I have to purposely pull myself out of my internal state and make sure to acknowledge and affirm more than it would naturally occurred to me to do so. On the flip side, he has promised to try and give me the benefit of the doubt and realize that, even if I haven’t responded to everything, he should trust that it’s not out of diffidence. Because I honestly do love every observation and witticism that boy comes up with.

6. Silly Advice 

There seems to be a plethora of both tongue-in-cheek and serious advice doled out to engaged couples consisting of the cliché “make sure to discuss whether or not the toilet paper goes under or over the roll” variety. Being married, I've decided this is useless and silly advice. In telling couples to identify all the little idiosyncrasies of one another in order to avoid conflict, it feels like missing the point. The advice should be to instead practice selflessness, patience, and support and work on denying the urge to give into trivial irritability. When I see articles such as “10 Things You Must Agree On Before Being Married” and the list includes whether the toothpaste cap goes on or not, the pettiness of it all is frustrating. All in all, I've found it extremely easy living with my husband, and household duties and chores don’t really cause much conflict at all, but when it does, holding on to uptight notions of how little things should be done is unhelpful and  can even be hurtful. 

There have been a variety of other lessons and growing pains in our 2 year relationship, from friendship to dating to marriage, and overall, it's the greatest experience I've had in my 23 years of life. I look forward to weathering both the good and the bad with my love as the years go by, and deepening my appreciation for God's blessings in my life. Jon: I love spending every minute with you and marrying you was the best decision I've ever made. :) 

An Unexpected Anniversary

A year ago today, I was sitting in a stranger’s backyard. I sat there scorching in my black leggings, because even though it was the 4^th of July and the weather was finally getting on board with the whole summer situation, I felt safer covered up. The backyard patriotic barbecue carried on oblivious to my plight, but then again, I was also unaware. Squinting against the sunlight to read my phone’s display, the world around me melted away every time I heard that telltale vibrate that meant I had a message. He’d been texting me for about a month. Five days later I would pluck up my courage, overcome an irrational hatred of actual phone conversations, and call him. But for now it was the 4^th of July, and while I hadn’t met him in person yet, I had the whole day to volley texts back and forth with someone who was rapidly becoming my best friend. Entire days spent without pause, fingers glued to the keypad as I answered his questions and asked my own. For a month straight I was floating on air; how fun to have a random guy so interested in chatting, to surprisingly find such a kindred spirit. I felt like we’d known each other for years. I didn’t really expect much, but I did wonder; what was the future going to hold for us? And then I heard that familiar buzz and looked down at my screen. It was another paragraph. An aspect I had come to quite like about our conversations, his penchant for sending book-length texts to me, full of articulate, charming, witty, or profound words. We’d been discussing the nature of a soul mate, purely academically and objectively of course. But his answer was an echo of my thoughts with his own experience and insight thrown in, and I couldn’t help but smile broadly, looking crazy all hunkered down by myself in the back corner of the porch, while the rest of the party interacted like normal, social human beings:

“Love is a choice. The way I think you’ve met the right person is how well you two communicate and how your strengths and weaknesses compliment one another, rather than divide. I think sustaining love is work; very rewarding, but very grueling work. Working through one’s problems together and encouraging one another to closer relationships with Christ is a very bonding and sustainable practice. The overlooked caveat is that it often requires two broke, effed-up sinners.” And that’s when it struck me: I could fall in love with him. I wasn’t in love with him then, but I got this feeling that I could be. A feeling that if I could look into the future and we were together, I wouldn’t be surprised. It was a fleeting thought, and then my logical and rational personality woke up and laughed at my premonition. This will most likely end up being a blimp on my life story and everything will go back to how it was before. It won’t be as exciting, but that’s life.

                                                                                                                                                                 A year later I’m sitting in a Starbucks waiting outside for my fiancé to get off of work. We’ll go home and watch the fireworks tonight, and I’ll wear shorts because he’s made me realize how downright dumb it is to be worried about showing who I am. And I’ll look back to the 4^th of July last year. And I’ll realize that today marks the one-year anniversary of the moment that I fell in love with my best friend. That same boy I briefly imagined could be mine? Turns out he IS the one. And over the course of that year, he turned into the best friend I’ve ever had, the sweetest boyfriend a girl could ask for, and now a fiancé that fills me with sweet anticipation knowing that in less than two months, his title will change yet again, and he’ll be my husband

The Dent & Chip Room

A delicate teacup with a sliver or ceramic missing after being carelessly dropped, sits on a shelf where’s it’s been haphazardly propped. Next to it rests a lamp that had once brightly blazed, but now solemnly produces only darkness after failing to be praised.  A mahogany table leans precariously on merely three legs, one pillar lost with a resounding retort, following too much pressure placed on its once-believed indestructible supports. And finally, a dusty old armchair hides in the corner, not having been misused but merely ignored, and it’s once bright and cheery pattern appears faded and worn. Each is convinced it belongs, tucked away in the dent-and-chip room as if nothing is wrong.

And then a figure materializes in the door, meandering by without preconceived notions, instead just waiting to find one to adore. The teacup trembles with anxiety, fearing another insensitive touch, while the lamp apathetically emits a distinct lack of light, burnt out from caring too much. The table suspiciously follows the new figure’s form, convinced none have the ability to bring about any real reform. Meanwhile, the chair dejectedly hides in a nook, knowing attention will never be directed towards her lackluster looks. The “As-Is” sign overhead fails to persuade, that those in the room will ever be remade. They all fully believe clearance is deserved, because who would pay full price for something not wholly preserved?

And then the unthinkable happens, as the creaky wheels of a shopping cart roll by, and each item is lovingly placed in the basket, although they can’t help but think, “God knows why.” Missing pieces, broken features, and damaged appearances have all led to a lost confidence in their own usefulness. Yet he’d picked up the weary and the confused, saving each item “As-Is” and ignoring the bruise. Awestruck wonder at the thought of your love, as you took us from the grave and lifted us above.

The teacup now gleams on a different top shelf, proudly showing off a chipped rim as a symbol of compassion she was unable to give herself. The lamp now twinkles in bright success, displaying a type of luminescence that it had previously been unable to express. The table stands firm having been carefully rebuilt, with supports that assure it will never again tilt. And the armchair, once believed to be entirely unworthy of affections, now revels in the warmth supplied by an occupant whose acceptance never lessons. 

We were chosen "as-is," pulled from the darkness of our own and of others making. Perfection is unattainable but also unnecessary. He has saved the unrighteous and lost, freely extending a love that is unfathomable and cannot be earned, inspiring a devotion and awe towards a God of such might. 

And as an echo, to find love that accepts “as-is” in a world filled with imperfection is a gift beyond imaging. If He gives us each other to glimpse the overwhelming love he himself extends, how humbling is it to know you can act as his representative, just as Christ acted for us? We can show his love, and be shown it in return, here on a fallen earth, and that is a realization that makes it impossible to not be filled with wonder. 

-Inspired by a special boyfriend of mine who consistently shows Christ's love.   

East Coast Explorations - Part 4 - The End

Day  9 - 10.

Next stop: Gettysburg. Best place the start? Why, the visitors center of course. My iPhone leads us there in no time flat. Only it’s an abandoned building. Search it again. Three wrong turns. Update search. More backtracking. Recalculating. Finally, the visitor’s center looms ahead, taunting us with its accessibility.  We run in, grab a CD and map, plug it in and head out to the battlefields. As our car slowly meanders through the fields the narrator simultaneously describes the history, tragedies, and victories of the sights. It’s hard to connect the gorgeous, rolling green fields and hills with a quiet, peaceful aura to the bloody, heart-wrenching scenes we know took place more than 100 years ago. The place of our countries greatest division, where brother fought brother, comes to life in a subduing realization of the horrors of war. We finish the tour and leave the sunlit beauty of historic Gettysburg and head towards the next Pennsylvanian experience: Amish territory. Or so we thought. Apparently Lancaster’s visitor’s center is not in fact open on Memorial Day. Who would have thought? And none us have the foggiest idea of what roads lead to the heart of Amish country. Just a small 30 mile detour, but Hershey calls, and the sweet smells of chocolate city bury our unrest. Hersey, Pennsylvania welcomes us with lamplights masquerading as kisses and a Fuddruckers next to the hotel.  Ah the wonderful world of Fuddruckers burgers. We will visit this place again soon. As in the next night…Our hotel is in an adorable setting, all tree-d in and hushed, seemingly ignorant, or maybe just defiant, of the theme park nearly next door. While the hotel is the best one we’ve encountered yet, hesitant thievery seems to be a problem, as my flip flops get stolen only to be returned a few hours later.

Gettysburg, PA

Day 11.

A leisurely drive into Lititz fills our morning, where we not only discover America's First Pretzel Bakery, but get down and dirty in dough in order to be bequeathed an official “pretzel maker” certification. The Moravian influenced town harkens back vague knowledge of ancestors from that heritage, and a drive through the countryside brings the past front and center as horse and buggies amble down the road and bonnets and straw hats become mainstream. Amish peanut butter, freshly made hot pretzels and lemonade, and shoe fly pie mark the culinary highlights of the day.

Now to make a 180, and find some adrenalin because the historical portion of our trip is at an end, and the theme park is waiting. Dad rides a monster coaster with us only to be sick afterwards and swear off of such contraptions. Ben, however, is hooked. The rest of the day is spent at Hershey Park, and after sweltering heat, blisters on feet, roller coasters, water rides, chafing shorts, squishy flip flops, and Ben obsessively riding the same coaster 3 times in a row,  Dad and I decide we are too hot and hungry to go on. Thunderstorms stop all rides and cancel shows for an hour, allowing us time to breathe. Dinner involves the repeat trip to Fuddruckers where we get almost exactly the same things as before. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

Day 12.

The last day has come, and the feelings of euphoria towards our experiences mix with homesickness and exhaustion. We drive towards Baltimore to catch our flight out and stop at a restaurant on the way there. Yeah you guessed it: Chick-fil-a.  Mom however, is unable to partake in the feast, as she has contracted a case of the spews and is making retching noises due to overactive pain meds for a sore tooth. Her mouth is literally swollen to the point where it appears she decided suck on a golf-ball-sized jawbreaker.

The last lag of our journeys begins, as we arrive at the airport and suffer through a somewhat painful flight home involving a small plane, occasional turbulence, and too many hours. SeaTac comes into view around 10pm (1pm our time) and another long ride home beckons, this time in a car. Our beloved driveway comes into view around 1:30am. And after an enthusiastic greeting from the pair of loving golden retrievers,  we all scatter to our owns beds to dream of the vacation that we’ll never forget.

East Coast Explorations - Part 3 - PA/DC

Day 6

Pool Time in Jersey 

Day 6 dawns with New Jersey on the itinerary. We pull into our reserved, newly built, Super 8 (a smashing good deal at $58 a night) only to discover the entire hotel has been booked with a rowing team. I know, that’s a whole lot rowers. God’s hand shows up again however as we’re upgraded to the Aloft next door, with a pool, gym, squishy elevator floors, soft beds, and an excessive amount of TV channels. We find a Boston’s Market, which are extinct back home, so after a great family sized meal, stuffed to satisfaction, we drive down into Philadelphia (only 20 min away) for a first look. Sights include signs for Miss Saigon, a favorite musical of mine that made me want to leap out of the car and dump any amount of money to snag a ticket. Alas, Claude-Michel Schönberg will remain a fantasy, and after an enlightening first look at the “city of brotherly love,” we circle back to the hotel for some much needed down-time.

Day 7.

A week has passed, but our sense of exploration could still rival that of Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, thus we decide to rise at dawn, well 7:30. Ish. This proves to be a fabulous decision as we encounter little traffic on the way into the heart of Philadelphia. Once parking is located, which we’ve since discovered is no easy task in these bustling metropolises, we immediately start to check off a substantial number of historic sights: Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, Betsy Ross house, an impressive Masonic lodge, the United States Mint, the Franklin Institute, and of course some classic Philly cheese steaks from none other than famed eatery Geno’s Steaks. It’s worth noting that, although the plethora of patriotic and historic sites does much to enthrall and compel the mind, nothing could detract from the sweltering east coast heat and stifling humidity. Every second waiting in line was an acute form of torture for a family of Pacific Northwest origins. In regards to aforementioned origins, we also discovered that it’s apparently very hard to understand where exactly we come from. A tour guide politely inquired to our hometown location, and when we explained the Vancouver NOT in Canada, he still can’t get it into his head that we’re not Stanley Cup fans. Was like talking to a wall.

Baltimore, MD 

We wrap up the visit snagging a few souvenirs and then head out for Maryland. On the way to New Carrolton, we stop in Baltimore and drive over to Charm City Cakes where Ben sees Ben in the window. Sort of a twilight zone, inception-type moment I’m sure. And since we couldn’t actually eat any cakes at Duff’s place of business we settle for pies at another famous location: Dangerously Delicious Pies. Three slices later, including a special mini one just for me they’re not supposed to sell to anyone, and we’re feeling high on the hog as we make out way into New Carrolton to our hotel. Dinner time has arrived at this point, so we settle for a less luxurious stop at Wendy’s, where we are most definitely of ethnic minority. In fact, one kid so kindly pointed out that he was only letting Ben in because he was white. Whatever that means…Anyway we plan on driving into DC for our now modus operandi of driving the city the night before we plan to explore it. However, severe thunderstorm warnings and lightening scare the living daylights out of Kate, prompting hysterical screaming and crying, have us back at the hotel for the rest of the night.

Day 8.

Day 8 brings Washington D.C, and the day bodes well as we miraculously find parking near the Capitol. Free parking no less. By this time, the sun has decided it’s going to come out swinging, and we all unintentionally reduce our walking speed by a significant amount due to an overwhelming melting sensation. First on the agenda: Library of Congress. I am beyond excited to glimpse Gershwin’s piano, and can just imagine him sitting there busting out Rhapsody in Blue in the early 20th century. Where’s a time machine when you need one? Other notable sights: the Gutenberg bible, Jefferson’s library, and endless maps, photos, tributes, books, and stories. A guided tour of the Capitol Building follows, where we all get our own headphones in order to hear our charmingly witty tour guide who shares details about the dozens of statues in and around the area. One is surprisingly of a woman from Vancouver, WA, who started one of the first hospitals. A little slice of home represented in the Nation’s capital. We finish the tour and walk (or drag ourselves) over to the botanical gardens where Nathan is in heaven. The national mall walk keeps up occupied for a majority of the day; the Air and Space museum, the National Gallery of Art, Museum of Natural History and the National Archives, where Ben beeps going through security, again. He’s a menace to society that kid. While there we glimpse the original Declaration of Independence, the Bill of Rights, and the Constitution. A rest by the fountain in the garden of sculptures while Dad and Ben graciously walk back to the car to come pick us up marks the end of the walking portion of the day.

Once we procured our wheels and air conditioned interior, we head over to the Lincoln Memorial and Georgetown Cupcakes. Unfortunately, the cupcake line is massive so we plug in chick-fil-a into my iPhone for a less sweet treat. However, Steve Job’s generally genius creation fails to tell us this is a campus location so when we arrive our mutual lack of student status bars the way. But that’s okay, let’s just search for another one. Lo and behold there’s one 10-15 min away! We finally arrive after battling traffic and WTF it’s also a campus location. Entirely fed up at this point, we decide to drive out of D.C and go to the one by our hotel. Driving out and the chick-fil-a pops up on my iPhone that is supposedly the one by our hotel. We’re driving, following the directions, getting closer and closer only to realize: IT’S ALSO A COLLEGE CAMPUS LOCATION.  *%&!$^@! Turn around again. I give up and basically chuck the stupid iphone, having lost complete faith in its navigational abilities. Luckily, once we do find a chick-fil-a, it is an amazing chicken experience - mostly worth the trauma. Dad tries to pay with his room card. Really just indicative of the whole 

situation... 

Library of Congress

The Museum of Natural History proves Evolution true...

East Coast Explorations - Part 2 - Boston

Day 4-5. 

We rise bright and early in order to keep driving up to Boston, with a pit stop on the way in a small town in Rhode Island for lunch and gas refill. While there, the Safeway checker must have noticed our west coast accents as she asked us where we were visiting from; a reply of “Washington State” immediately brought the words “Oh Apples!” from her mouth. We continued towards Boston, only taking approximately 4 wrong turns until we finally made it to the downtown area, and providentially found parking right near Paul Revere’s house. The skies were gorgeous, offering sunlight and warmth in a strong contraction to our New York experience. First day discoveries include: Paul Revere’s house, the Old North Church, Faneuil Hall, Quincy market, and the fresh salty air floating in from the wharf where nautical modes of transportation sat anchored. We stuffed ourselves with some great New England fare, including clam chowder, pizza, Boston cream pie, and shrimp pasta. Once back in the car, we drove down to see a famous old ship from revolutionary times, when suddenly Kate decides lunch is better out than in and Mom would be the perfect recipient for regurgitated clam chowder. Needless to say, the car smells wonderful. 

By this time, not only is Kate sick, but Nathan is constantly coughing like an annoying maniac setting everyone on the edge of sanity. Arrival at the hotel doesn’t help the situation much, seeing as it’s just about the nastiest excuse for a place of lodging one could find. And this isn’t a cheap $50 Super 8. No. This is supposedly a nice, over $100 a night, charming and welcoming inn, at least according to the Priceline Negotiator. William Shatner? I'd like a word. Non-smoking? I do believe their definition differs from ours on that count, as it wouldn’t have been unwarranted for us all to don face masks in an attempt to breathe, even if it would have put the locals on edge with thoughts of Bird Flu flitting through their minds. To top it off, the first night there Mom hears domestic disputes going on in the next room, yelling and sounds of punching wafting through the wall, enough that we almost called the cops but the sounds ceased and a semblance of peace returned.

Next morning, we headed back into Boston where we finished taking in the sights found on the historic Freedom Trail and the New England Aquarium. After dinner and a short rest, we drive into historic downtown Lexington, the site of the first shot of the American Revolutionary War. You’d be hard pressed to find a little town as perfect as that one. Especially when visiting at dusk and the statues of Minute Men are warmly glowing from the lights strategically placed at the base in order to illuminate some of our first American heroes. 

A drive around Harvard marks the end of our inhabitance of Boston, Massachusetts, and Philadelphia looms on the horizon...