Six Things I’ve Learned in Six Months of Marriage

Tim and I celebrated our six month anniversary on Sunday!

In the process of adjusting to married life and consistent disorder, I’ve learned many new things about myself.  Six qualities stick out to me as I reflect over my first six months of marriage.

I’m sharing  the six things I learned in six months of marriage over on Kayse Pratt‘s blog: Live Authentically, Laugh Joyfully, Love Intentionally.

Even the blogosphere is a small world.  Turns out Kayse and I lived in neighboring cities for a year without knowing hide nor hair of each other! Now we live in different states, but I’m excited to be part of her internet home today.

Read all about what I learned in six months of marriage and then poke around Kayse’s delightful and encouraging blog!

Gingerbread Granola

Granola gets amped up for the holidays with traditional gingerbread touches. Molasses gives the oats and toasty pecans a beautiful color and rich flavor. The addicting blend of spices mirrors the taste of a warm, thick slice of gingerbread.

 Hunger has virtually nothing to do with my uncontrolled consumption of this granola. I can’t keep my hand out of the jar or stop myself from pouring a bowl with almond milk for an “anytime” snack.

I keep imagining it on top of Pumpkin Greek Yogurt, mixed into waffle or pancake batter, or topped with a dollop of lemon curd.

This recipe is a simple way to infuse the flavors of a holiday staple into a pantry staple.  I may never go back to regular granola…

Adapted from a recipe by Alton Brown.  I love the dry, crispy texture of this granola and it still manages to clump together. So tasty on top of Pumpkin Greek Yogurt.

Gingerbread Granola
Author: Emily C. Gardner
Prep time: 10 mins
Cook time: 1 hour 15 mins
Total time: 1 hour 25 mins
This recipe is a simple way to infuse the flavors of a holiday staple into a pantry staple. I may never go back to regular granola. Adapted from Alton Brown.
Ingredients
  • 4 cups old fashioned rolled oats
  • 1 cups chopped pecans
  • 1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons brown sugar
  • 1 tablespoon ground cinnamon
  • 1 teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1 teaspoon nutmeg
  • 1 teaspoon ground cloves
  • 1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons molasses
  • 1/4 cup vegetable oil
  • 3/4 teaspoon salt
Instructions
  1. Preheat oven to 250 degrees F. Line a sheet pan with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat.
  2. In a large bowl, combine the oats, pecans, brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and cloves.
  3. In a separate bowl, whisk together molasses, oil, and salt. Combine both mixtures. Work the liquid mixture into the oat mixture until everything is moistened.
  4. Pour onto sheet pan. Cook for 1 hour and 15 minutes, stirring every 15 minutes to achieve an even color. Remove from oven and let the granola come to room temperature in the pan.
  5. Add mix-ins* if desired and store in an airtight container.
  6. *Suggested mix-ins: golden raisins, yogurt chips, Craisins, white chocolate chips

Vows

God never ceases to amaze me with His timing.  I feel like a broken record because I’m floored over and over again about how He orchestrates life in a way that is undeniably His doing.

Last week, Tim and I attended the Friday and Saturday sessions of A Weekend To Remember, a marriage conference put on by Family Life.  The nature of Tim’s work precluded us from going to the last day of sessions.  Providentially, Coeur d’Alene Resort was hosting the conference two weekends in a row. Tim was able to skip out of church a bit early yesterday so we could complete our Weekend To Remember.

What started out to be a morning of rushing, hurt feelings, and silence was transformed into a special day because of God’s perfect timing and heart nudging.

Unbeknownst to me, every WTR concludes with couples renewing their vows.  Unbeknownst to the organizers of WTR, Sunday was our 6 month anniversary.   Six months earlier, Tim and I were exchanging our very own vows under a wooden arbor in Twin Peaks, CA.

So much has changed in a matter of months.  The vows we made to each other before God, family, and friends six months ago offer security and confidence as we face the transitions, thrills, tension, and triumphs of married life.

In a sea of men and women standing hand in hand, our voices joining in the chorus of other couples, Tim and I re-pledged our love and commitment to one another.

I was reminded that Tim and I committed to a life-long journey that doesn’t preclude hurt and frustration.  We vowed to remain united and pursuing Christ in spite of present pressures and tomorrow’s uncertainties.

Revisiting your vows is a great reminder that love is a choice, a choice that transcends circumstances.

 

Eucharisteo

It’s no coincidence that as rain turned into slush that turned into big flakes of our first snow in Coeur d’Alene, I was stranded in a coffee shop with only a book to keep me occupied.  The book – One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.

Tim and I had waited until the last minute to get our little car fixed up with snow worthy tires. So, it seemed, had most other people.  We were 31st in line and had a projected wait of four hours.  We resigned ourselves to making the coffee shop across the street our home for the evening.

Aside from an hour and a half interlude with some friends who graciously picked us up and fed us dinner, I spent over two hours immersed in Ann’s “list of naming God’s gifts.”  I read how eucharisteo is the fullness of life.  Thanksgiving. Gratitude.  They are inextricable from joy.

“I would never experience the fullness of my salvation until I expressed the fullness of my thanks every day, and eucharisteo is elemental to living the saved life,” Ann whispers in my ear.

The snow begins to fall when we leave our friends’ house and falls faster when we reenter our second home.  Walls shield me from the swiftly swirling snow as I hunker down for another hour of waiting, but coldness still penetrates my heart.

I have been dreading this blanket of white.  Snow means winter.  Winter means cold.  Cold means something dreary in my soul.  I so desperately want sun and warmth and sandals.

Even as I read and agree with Ann’s words that rejecting joy doesn’t rescue suffering, I am obstinate about my current displeasure.  I reject the beauty and the purity and the silence of snow.   It falls and my spirit falls with it.

I do not begin to melt until I hear the simple metaphor in my yearnings for heat and sunshine.  All I want is the sun and I am struck that the only thing that will get me through this season is the Son.  My innards stubbornly refuse to resign their sinking until eucharisteo reminds me again of the Son.

I cannot dwell low when the Son is shining high.

First with intentionality and then in a flood of thanks, I feel rays of His warmth kissing my skin in…

A bouquet of flowers and an ice scraper clutched tightly in my husbands hands.

The flicker of a candle flame reflected in our TV screen filled with fake fire.

Heat-filled cheeks from the steam of a hot bath.

Elegant green boughs heavy with white powder.

The oven timer signaling fresh-baked cookies are ready and warm.

My own list of naming God’s gifts has begun.  It is what propels me out of the cold, into the warmth of the Son.  With thousands of unique pieces of icy lace floating from the heavens, my heart echoes Ann’s prayer, “in the posture of euchariseo, I want to slow down and taste life, give thanks, and see God.”

7 by Jen Hatmaker {a review}

Confronted by the worldly abundance in her life, Jen Hatmaker decided to rebel against cultural norms with an unconventional fast from greed, materialism, and overindulgence.  She identified seven areas of excess and tackled them one month at a time.  The result is recorded in Jen’s thought provoking book, 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess.

The Hatmaker family (along with some friends who were willing to participate in this crazy experiment) would only eat seven foods, wear seven articles of clothing, and spend money in seven places.  They would eliminate use of seven media outlets, give away seven things each day, adopt seven green habits, and observes seven “sacred pauses.”  This mutiny lasted seven months, each practice assigned to a different month.

Jen shares her journey through the 7 experiment in journal style.  She is humorous, honest, and humble about her struggles and successes along the way.

If the state of my paperback copy of this book is any indication of how much I would recommend 7, you should go out and buy it immediately.  The cover is bent from being shoved in my purse so I could read it during any downtime, pages are mussed up and underlined, and water marks belie the truth that it was in the bathroom (a favorite reading spot) a lot.

I’m still not sure whether I read 7 at the perfect time or the worst time.

My heart was primed for talk of purging and simplifying after reading Tsh Oxenreider’s book, Organized Simplicity. I may have freaked The Hubs out with all my talk of family purpose statements, home management, and garage sales (which we did have!).

However, all of this upheaval in my heart about intentional living coincided with upheaval in my day to day life.  Tim and I were newly married, job searching, and didn’t have a permanent place to live.  Major transitions were in motion and I started reading 7 the day we got the keys to our new apartment, 1300 miles away from where we previously called home.

I was ripe for revival in this new season, this new place, but very full with all the changes that had happened and were happening.  Our  move was the perfect opportunity to start fresh, but I was already overwhelmed with adjusting to our new situation let alone adjusting to a new style of living.

We had already reduced our possessions before moving and were beginning to weigh purchases against budget and priorities.  But, I realized this book was prompting an attitude adjustment not just an actions overhaul.

I was especially convicted about my closet.  During high school and college, I built a large part of my identity around the clothes I wore.   I had accumulated quite the clothing collection over those years and continued to purchase without purging.  Not only did I need to purge, I also needed to extricate my value from my apparel.

Month by month, as I laughed, sighed, and agreed with Jen, I became more fired up about simplicity.  But, I also developed a superior attitude about my new found zest for intentional living.  I judged other people’s choices, holding them to my own new standards.

By the time I had gotten to the last couple chapters, I was mentally crafting an S.O.S. to Jen asking how she approached other Christians who were not on the same beam about reducing excess and increasing generosity.

Then I read her conclusion. Screech. Halt. Lightbulb. Humbled.

7 allowed us to slowly break up with some of our ideas, our luxuries. However, even if I had a clear directive, I’m not sure I’d share it here. Whatever God has done or is doing in our family is certainly not a template, and I don’t want it to be.  We live in a certain city with a certain task, we have specific gifts, and we’re horribly deficient in others.  Our life looks like it does because we are the Hatmakers, and God is dealing with us the way He’s dealing with us.  We have a history and sin issues and circumstances and geography that God takes into account as He stakes our place in His kingdom. {218}

My judgment of others was based on a formula – a formula I wasn’t 100% successful at, I might add!  Fasting isn’t really about what you go without, but why you go without.  I realized that 7 wasn’t prescriptive, but descriptive.

The process of lightening our mental, physical, spiritual, and emotional load in order to serve God wholeheartedly looks different for everyone.  It isn’t a formula. Jen’s message isn’t one of judgement for the techno-dependent, hoarders in all of us; it is encouragement to take an honest look at our resources and how we use them.

Each of us is in a different place on the journey. I am responsible for my own journey and to spur others on in their own journey, not to criticize.

When the reading was over, 7 left me meditating on these two verses:

But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. {Matthew 6:20}

He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. {Micah 6:8}