Things I've found while cleaning out my bedroom closet (everything in the closet is mine, so I can't place any of the blame on Stephen):
1. Letters from 1996. Was that really 12 years ago?
2. A magnet that says "Blessed are the caring like you." Next time I doubt my capacity to care, I'll just consult this magnet!
3. An envelope of receipts, all of which are from 2004. I used to be incapable of (or perhaps just unwilling to) get rid of receipts for the month until my bank statement came out.
4. All of the letters informing me of how much financial aid I was receiving each year at Union. (They paid me a LOT, people! Praise the Lord for scholarships!)
5. My membership card to the National Beta Club, along with the pin. (I don't really know what to say about that.)
6. All the cards we received from wedding showers and at our wedding.
7. The program I got from my first Steven Curtis Chapman concert, the Heaven in the Real World Tour. (I also have ticket stubs from two of his other concerts. I've seen him 4 times that I can remember. I should write a post about him sometime...)
8. Pens I bought while in Bangkok. (They still write!)
9. Pictures from senior prom. (I sure was skinny!)
10. Most of the papers I wrote in undergrad, along with papers I wrote in grad school. My favorite feedback from a professor? "To be honest, I'm disappointed in this paper." OUCH. He then proceeded to write me almost 2 pages of ways to improve said paper and encouraged me to revisit it because I have a "good critical mind." He closed by wishing me "all the best." How nice. (And really, to be fair, it was a terrible paper on Their Eyes Were Watching God, written during one of my last weeks of grad school. Motivation was low.)
11. My acceptance letter to UT, along with my GRE score.
12. The program from my 8th grade "graduation." I was the "Class Speaker." All I remember is that during one of the graduations (there were 3 because the class was too large), I got my index cards out of order and had to improvise. It didn't go well. But it was 8th grade, so who cares?
13. 4 stacks of Post-its. (longtime readers should know of my love affair with Post-its)
14. 8 scarves. That's way too many scarves.
15. The name tag I wore during freshman orientation at Union.
I could go on, but why would you care? 15 is a pretty indulgent number as it is. I got rid of most of this stuff, except of course for the Post-its (and the magnet, the papers, the acceptance letter, etc.) Okay, so I got rid of the tapes and half the scarves. I'm a sentimental pack-rat, and it's very hard for me to let go of things. I have 2 full photo boxes of letters and cards I have received over the years, and if Stephen weren't around to make me throw silly things away, I would keep them for 10 or 15 more years! (Even so, I kept some of the especially nice cards/letters.)
I've been "saving" things for as long as I can remember, much to my mother's chagrin. She would look at the stack of shoe boxes stuffed with notes and declare my whole closet a fire hazard. Where I am sentimental and reluctant to throw away a birthday card a year after I've received it, she glibly tosses hers the day after, even before all the cake is gone! When it comes to my pack-ratting, nothing is off-limits. I used to save all the notes my friends and I would pass in grade school. I saved anything that I felt I might want to remember someday. And truly, my memory is terrible, so sometimes I think all of this collecting isn't a bad idea. For example, at one point I had all of the ribbons I'd won in field days (I doubt I contributed at all to my team's wins; my feats of athleticism are limited to walking in a semi-straight line). I finally got rid of them (post-college, I do believe), and now I can't even remember what we did during field days.
I'm sure a psychologist would love to delve deep into my psyche and unearth my repressed urges in the hopes of determining the root of my pack-ratting, but I'll wager a few guesses.
1. I confuse the memories with the items themselves. I tell myself that by throwing away a card, I'll forget about the person who sent it. While in some cases, this may be true (I'm not going to remember every person who ever gave me a card), I'll cherish the friendships of those who matter to me now, whether I have a card from them or not.
2. Keeping all of these mementos gives me a sense of security and stability. I feel like as long as I have these "anchors" to my past, I'll be fine. I might need these things someday. For example, what if someday I need to prove that I was indeed a member of the National Beta Club? All I have to do is whip out that membership card, and voila! Case closed.
3. It's genetic. My dad's mom is a notorious pack-rat, so much so that she has a storage room as well as 2 bedrooms full of stuff, some of which she doesn't even know she has. She could have passed this tendency onto me, but I will not cause my pack-ratting to spill over into entire rooms; I'm content to fill a closet.
Hey, I never said I was a logical pack-rat.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Sunday, June 8, 2008
I'm SO Glad I Changed My Major
I'm not a huge play-with-a-lot-of-kids kind of person. I love kids on an individual basis, but put me with more than 3 in a room, and I get a little stressed. What is most hilarious about this is that at one time I thought I wanted to be an elementary school teacher. I even went to a summer-long program in high school geared towards that profession. Then, suddenly, I realized during my freshman year of college that while I admire children from a distance, having 20 of them in a room in close proximity to me every day isn't really ideal for me. I prefer to teach people who already know how to tie their shoes, sit in a chair, use the bathroom by themselves, and write legibly. Most of my college students have mastered these skills. :)
However, despite all of this, I thought it would be fun for Stephen and I to sign up for extended session (the time between the end of Sunday School and the end of the service) at church. We have been looking for a way to serve together, and extended session with kids sounded fun. When we got the schedule and saw that we had been assigned to the 4- and 5-year-olds, I was relieved. At least at that age they can follow orders and are used to some semblance of structure, right? They also would require no diaper-changing! And since the time was full of structured activities (snack, video, craft), it should be no problem getting them to follow along. Piece of cake.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
About an hour and fifteen minutes after we arrived to pick up the children and guide them to the classroom (for some reason we had to switch classes), we were exhausted. Chairs were strewn about the room, along with glue stick lids and craft pom-poms, the orange mark of cheese puffs was all over hands and cheeks, and one kid was missing.
Okay, so the last part isn't true. And I wouldn't say things were "strewn about" exactly, but the room definitely wasn't in the state of order in which we'd found it. And we were actually smart enough to wipe the kids' hands after they had their cheesy snack (cheese puffs are a terrible snack idea, if you ask me). However, I don't think the kids learned a single thing while we were in there. At first mention of a video, they excitedly went to the chairs, but that interest disintegrated within seconds, and one boy was roaming about the room, another was trying to kiss one of the girls, and a third was playing with some jingle bells. (That is all true.) About 2 minutes into the video, one request for a bathroom break was made, followed by 7 other requests, so we paused the movie and took them all to the bathroom. (I got lucky with this, as there were only 3 girls, but Stephen got to deal with 5 boys, one of which touched the urinal and then licked his finger. Yum.)
After the video was over, there were only about 10 minutes for craft time. The craft involved glueing small pom-poms onto a cardstock arrow (it somehow tied into the lesson), using a glue stick. I know glue sticks are a lot less messy than other glue, but should you ever get the desire to glue pom-poms onto a cardstock arrow, know that the glue stick is virtually useless unless applied in copious amounts, which some of the kids gleefully did. I think only one boy actually finished the craft. Two of the girls spent several minutes debating over who would get to use the pink scissors (the pink scissors are CRUCIAL to the completion of the craft) and therefore didn't get much accomplished, a couple had trouble even using scissors, and others just goofed off. Even though most did not get any pom-poms glued to the arrow, plenty of pom-poms made their way all over the table. Yippie!
After this wonderfully adventurous morning, Stephen and I have decided not to have kids. KIDDING. Well, maybe. :)
However, despite all of this, I thought it would be fun for Stephen and I to sign up for extended session (the time between the end of Sunday School and the end of the service) at church. We have been looking for a way to serve together, and extended session with kids sounded fun. When we got the schedule and saw that we had been assigned to the 4- and 5-year-olds, I was relieved. At least at that age they can follow orders and are used to some semblance of structure, right? They also would require no diaper-changing! And since the time was full of structured activities (snack, video, craft), it should be no problem getting them to follow along. Piece of cake.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
About an hour and fifteen minutes after we arrived to pick up the children and guide them to the classroom (for some reason we had to switch classes), we were exhausted. Chairs were strewn about the room, along with glue stick lids and craft pom-poms, the orange mark of cheese puffs was all over hands and cheeks, and one kid was missing.
Okay, so the last part isn't true. And I wouldn't say things were "strewn about" exactly, but the room definitely wasn't in the state of order in which we'd found it. And we were actually smart enough to wipe the kids' hands after they had their cheesy snack (cheese puffs are a terrible snack idea, if you ask me). However, I don't think the kids learned a single thing while we were in there. At first mention of a video, they excitedly went to the chairs, but that interest disintegrated within seconds, and one boy was roaming about the room, another was trying to kiss one of the girls, and a third was playing with some jingle bells. (That is all true.) About 2 minutes into the video, one request for a bathroom break was made, followed by 7 other requests, so we paused the movie and took them all to the bathroom. (I got lucky with this, as there were only 3 girls, but Stephen got to deal with 5 boys, one of which touched the urinal and then licked his finger. Yum.)
After the video was over, there were only about 10 minutes for craft time. The craft involved glueing small pom-poms onto a cardstock arrow (it somehow tied into the lesson), using a glue stick. I know glue sticks are a lot less messy than other glue, but should you ever get the desire to glue pom-poms onto a cardstock arrow, know that the glue stick is virtually useless unless applied in copious amounts, which some of the kids gleefully did. I think only one boy actually finished the craft. Two of the girls spent several minutes debating over who would get to use the pink scissors (the pink scissors are CRUCIAL to the completion of the craft) and therefore didn't get much accomplished, a couple had trouble even using scissors, and others just goofed off. Even though most did not get any pom-poms glued to the arrow, plenty of pom-poms made their way all over the table. Yippie!
After this wonderfully adventurous morning, Stephen and I have decided not to have kids. KIDDING. Well, maybe. :)
Sunday, June 1, 2008
One Year Down--Many, Many More to Come
On April 6, 2006, my life changed forever.
But I didn't know it yet.
On that day, I received a MySpace message from a guy named Stephen Mount. I knew him from college, and we had some mutual friends, but we hadn't seen each other in a few years, so it was a surprise to hear from him. However, I responded to his message, and after a flurry of emails and endless phone calls, we were a couple. And I was completely smitten. I knew early on that I loved him and I would marry him, and he must have too, because just 4 months after that first email, he asked me to be his wife. I thought at the time that August 4, 2006 was the happiest day of my life, but then our wedding day came, June 2, 2007, and I couldn't imagine being any happier or more in love than on that day.
But I was wrong.
Every day, I find I fall a little more in love--become a little happier--just waking up next to the man I call my friend, my confidant, my love, my husband. He makes me laugh, dries my tears, soothes my fears and calms my worrying, gives countless hugs, serves me, looks after me, protects me, places me first. There are many things I love about Stephen Paul Mount, but one of the things I love the most is the way he loves me (selfish, huh?). He loves me unreservedly, unselfishly, unwaveringly. I know there is nothing I could do that would cause his love for me to wane because on June 2 he committed to love me always and forever. In making this commitment he is making a choice to love me every day, even when I am terribly unlovable, and I in return choose to love him always and forever.
In realizing Stephen's love for me, I realize the extraordinary love that the Lord Jesus so freely and graciously lavishes on His children. If I am secure in Stephen's love for me, how much more so should I be secure in God's love? And yet I doubt and forget and worry. It is no accident that Paul in Ephesians draws a parallel between Christ and the Church and a husband and wife. The marital relationship comes the closest to reflecting God's immense, extravagant love for His people, yet even the love between spouses cannot compare to the depths and the riches of God's love. What a precious gift we are given, that we are able to love! But we love only because He first loved us. God created marriage first and foremost for His glory, and I long for Him to be glorified in us.
Stephen, how grateful I am that you sent me that first fateful email, and how grateful I am that each day is a gift because you are in it. I love you, forever and always.
"May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you." ~Psalm 33:22
But I didn't know it yet.
On that day, I received a MySpace message from a guy named Stephen Mount. I knew him from college, and we had some mutual friends, but we hadn't seen each other in a few years, so it was a surprise to hear from him. However, I responded to his message, and after a flurry of emails and endless phone calls, we were a couple. And I was completely smitten. I knew early on that I loved him and I would marry him, and he must have too, because just 4 months after that first email, he asked me to be his wife. I thought at the time that August 4, 2006 was the happiest day of my life, but then our wedding day came, June 2, 2007, and I couldn't imagine being any happier or more in love than on that day.
But I was wrong.
Every day, I find I fall a little more in love--become a little happier--just waking up next to the man I call my friend, my confidant, my love, my husband. He makes me laugh, dries my tears, soothes my fears and calms my worrying, gives countless hugs, serves me, looks after me, protects me, places me first. There are many things I love about Stephen Paul Mount, but one of the things I love the most is the way he loves me (selfish, huh?). He loves me unreservedly, unselfishly, unwaveringly. I know there is nothing I could do that would cause his love for me to wane because on June 2 he committed to love me always and forever. In making this commitment he is making a choice to love me every day, even when I am terribly unlovable, and I in return choose to love him always and forever.
In realizing Stephen's love for me, I realize the extraordinary love that the Lord Jesus so freely and graciously lavishes on His children. If I am secure in Stephen's love for me, how much more so should I be secure in God's love? And yet I doubt and forget and worry. It is no accident that Paul in Ephesians draws a parallel between Christ and the Church and a husband and wife. The marital relationship comes the closest to reflecting God's immense, extravagant love for His people, yet even the love between spouses cannot compare to the depths and the riches of God's love. What a precious gift we are given, that we are able to love! But we love only because He first loved us. God created marriage first and foremost for His glory, and I long for Him to be glorified in us.
Stephen, how grateful I am that you sent me that first fateful email, and how grateful I am that each day is a gift because you are in it. I love you, forever and always.
"May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you." ~Psalm 33:22
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