our cousin, evan may, recently self-published an e-book that studies 1 corinthians. evan is married to rebekah and they are expecting their first little one this year. if you read this good little book, you may find two familiar names in chapter 4. enjoy!
tonight we will be having our final anniversary celebration, releasing two lanterns into the sky at our wedding site. Our family surprised us with these lanterns at our wedding and so each year we plan to release one for each year of marriage.
tonight we’re thankful for two years, two incredible families and a cancer free doctor’s report.
happy 37 years to our incredible parents. thank you for teaching us that love never gives up. we won’t know until heaven the impact that your covenant has made on our own.
My parents generously scheduled a vacation in a beautiful, gated community for a week for our whole family. Ian and I couldn’t resist the pool, even though it’s too soon after Ian’s surgery to swim. It seemed enough to get to lay in a chair, by the pool, and I could hop in and out while keeping close to Ian.
But it’s a beautiful day and the pool is full. All the chairs are covered with bodies. And so we found a little section of grass, with one bath towel, and I awkwardly helped ian to the ground.
Of course people were watching, even though their eyes darted as soon as they met mine. Yet no one offered my disabled husband their chair. Someone who could easily and comfortably lay on a towel, kids even, have a chair. But no one offered one to Ian.
It struck me once we had settled, after we removed the wheelchair cushion and repurposed it for a pillow, that no one asked. They just watched.
But, should we expect that kindness? Should the five year old be told by his parents to give his chair away?
I’m still not sure. And I don’t know what I would do, if I were the one in the chair.
I do though, want to seek after kindness of all shapes and sizes within my own heart. And I do want these own feelings of mine to help me to anticipate others needs, especially when it’s someone like my dear Ian.
“the first room that we get to, I’ll dance with you.”
Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.
supposedly it takes a village to raise a child. we think it takes one to build a healthy marriage too. gigi and pa paid for our dinner. my parents paid for our room for the surgery. mary watched the kids so that ben and jan could come be with us for dinner. and so even though our anniversary was spent with day-before-surgery injections, we had a wonderful evening escape. even baby scarlett met us in pittsburgh for a lovely outdoor dinner and jazz concert. and now scarlett is officially the cutest fifth wheel.
and we casually mentioned our anniversary to the waitress, who kindly brought us this, pictured sideways.
for all the ways that our family served us, ian says “they’re selfless” and it shows him that God is good.
one final anniversary celebration awaits us – setting off our two lanterns for the number of years we’ve been married when we head back up to our wedding spot next weekend.
for now, we’re off to a week on a lake with the whiteley’s.
we’re continuing to pray for encouraging test results next week and that ian’s wounds heal quickly.
