Tuesday, March 10, 2015

The Farmer's Wife.

Time on this planet, in this life, is so fleeting. Already we've passed our second month of marriage and left it behind somewhere. I stumble to catch up with the changes and all the thoughts that crash around in my little mind. Some days, I feel acutely how slow I am to adapt.

We came home from our honeymoon and the snowy streets of Leavenworth around the middle of January. We came home to our little house on the farm, next to the dairy. The little house was lonely, dirty, and waiting. It was waiting for us to come live in it and make it a home.

Those first weeks in January were full of washing, scrubbing, organizing, painting, and trips to Ace Hardware. Thanks to the help of my darling family, all our walls are fresh and cream-colored, our kitchen cupboards are yellow like my Mommy's, and I now have more 'paint clothes' then any one person should. I even have paint shoes. If the surface is somewhat flat, wood, metal, plastic, already painted--I paint it. And even with all this painting, I still manage to get quarts and gallons of the wrong color. I have a quart of "Red Dragon" paint that is most definitely hot pink. If you know anyone in need of pink paint, do send them my way.

The first weeks of January the fog was relentless. I began to wonder where they kept the stars and the blue sky in this part of the country. But weather patterns and days never last forever. The fog did eventually lift and we got to see the sky again. I always miss my sweet family in Eburg, but some days are more full of missing than others. I'm so thankful for texting and hours of phone calls though. What a gift to still be able to stay connected. I'm also SO thankful we don't live states away. It's a 90 minute drive, but when you know the way, it's an easy drive.

Slow and steady we've brought order to the chaos in our little home. One of the first big steps was moving into the freshly painted bathroom. Which made it less of a hunt to find our tooth brushes at night. Another big step was buying enough white hangers to move all our clothes into the small closet and off the floor. A huge accomplishment was moving into the yellow cupboards of my tiny kitchen. Cream dishes are stacked in the cupboards. Red pots line the shelves. Moving into the kitchen, I found I had a plethora of pie plates. When I say plethora, I do mean plethora. I mean 15+ pie plates. Just let that one sink in for a minute. I also found I had no measuring cups or spoons, and no balloon whisk. The measuring utensils weren't to mission critical since I don't measure much anyways, but no balloon whisk! That one was much harder to live without. And since I refuse to use silicone whisks, it's taken till this week to purchase an honest to goodness stainless balloon whisk. Now I can whisk my egg whites the right way. I'm relieved, and Julia Child would be proud.

But all home-improvement and moving-in talk aside, married life is something incredibly special. It's something sacred, intimate, and something for every day. I'm finding, we can't be married just on our good days, or just on our best days. We're married on the bad days, the home-sick days, tearful days, stressed days; we're married for all of them. It's one thing to know that, it's another to live it. To wake up every morning and roll over to give a good morning kiss after some sleep, or little sleep, or dreams of planting new crops, or wakeful hours thinking over all that needs done. To roll over each morning and hold on tight to each others hands and pray. To lift up our praises our needs, and our fears. Praying for the day, the week, the month, the year. Praying for what we can see, and for what we can hardly imagine. We give it to Him who already know it all.

All the stuff of life we pray for, makes me feel so out of my depth. But praise God, His love is so deep we can never be out of His depth. Our Savior draws us both into His sacred presence in the pale light of sunrise. Brian's deep voice rises and falls, filling the quiet peace of the morning.

And I'm thankful. So thankful.

I'm thankful I married someone who is just as out of his depth in this life as I am. I'm so thankful I married someone patient and tender, someone who waits for me, someone who hears me when I need to talk. He holds me when I cry, he washes dishes when I'm tired, he prays when I'm afraid. He tells me I look cute when I'm in work clothes and an old hat. I'm thankful I married someone who comes in the house smelling like diesel and covered in dirt. He's a man for the long sweaty days of harvest, and the hours of numbers in the office.

He's a man for the every day stuff of life. And I am so thankful Christ saw fit to twine Brian and I's lives together.

I'm so thankful to be the Farmer's wife.