Post Category → engagement

Update — a fledgling man’s persepective

Budgets? Yeah, but so much more. These past few months have been frantic. It is a vast understatement to suggest that I was under-prepared for this season.

I’ve not just budgeted blindly, but scoured and ruminated the counsel of Dave Ramsey, Warren Buffett, William O’Neil, and my local CPA. And all of this takes time—something I lack these days.

“Only 41 days!” Ryan pulls out his hair, “AGGHHHHH!!”

I filed my taxes, a massive undertaking of elephantine proportions, even with the automatic extension. I don’t mind them too much; they’re like a game. Remember Mad Libs from the eighties? Well now, instead of nouns and verbs, it’s income and deductions. All so much fun…’till the last line anyway.

Going forward, it appears I’ll be working for a great company in California. I’ve been consulting with them for years, and now they’re ready for more hours than I’m able to devote in my spare time. They’ll become my primary client, and I’ll leave Clarkson and work from home (here in upstate New York) for the first-year anyway. I feel like I’m just starting to settle in at Clarkson, just starting to get comfortable; I’m not too excited to leave them all.

With a big contract comes the need for Incorporation—to help reduce the tax burden of self-employment. So we’ve filed our Articles of Incorporation, and I guess I’m now the president or something of a company!

Along with all this money talk, I’ve been trying to automate our financial life. (We’re really not geeks, we just DO NOT want to think about this stuff after the wedding.) For that, Quicken and online banking are blessings.

“It’s amazing what you can do with computers these days, ain’t it Ethel!”

Where we’ll live has been the “next big hurdle.” Our lives as singles have been spent mostly in Potsdam, but the surrounding towns offer less expensive (and often nicer) accommodations. This is on the critical path for me, because I don’t want be homeless on our honeymoon; the thought stresses me out. More, my lease expires in two weeks, and I’d like to move in before Danica—gotta make sure I get the bigger bedroom!

“Now those classified ads are around here somewhere.”

Of course, there’s also the little daily details: I just got measured for my tuxedo, though still haven’t settled on a style. Life insurance (20 or 30?), and I’ve been researching beds and everything else we need by July.

“How many coils does this have maam, and what gauge?”

Don’t forget my 9-5 either, and trying to execute an LDAP-based identity management service for Clarkson before I leave.

Again, Ryan pulls out his hair: “AGGHHHHH!”

And with all these things, I have the counsel of good men in my life (Mike, Rick, Alan, Gard, and my Dad) who all provide direction to some kid trying to become a man, overnight.

But really, it’s God I need at the end of the day, because I’m in way over my head. See, there’s this wonderful girl I love so much, and she needs me to be strong, to give when I have nothing more to give. And at that place, I run out of ideas and words fall short to inspire me. It’s there that I am faced with the shallowness of my pride, where my response must be new depths of humility. And that, no man can show me the way, for only God can give me the grace I need.

Oh to be saved from my sin! I cannot imagine life without Him.

a game of catch-up

There’s something about planning a wedding in three months that leaves you feeling decidedly behind. Perhaps it’s because everytime I see a little wedding planning guide, the first thing I read is, “24 months before your wedding, secure a location…” And boom. I’m already 21 months behind.

But somehow I feel sure that, even though I bought the dress 3 months before and not 6-12, and even though the invitations have yet to be mailed because they have yet to be delivered because they were ordered 2 months before and not 4, the wedding will happen in pefect loveliness, people will be there, and I’ll walk out with a different name.

Deep breath.

67

Perhaps none of you are quite as concerned with the little counter at the bottom of this page as I am, but just so you know, it’s only a bit more than two months from the big day. There’s so much to do and, if you’re like me, so much to process. (Life has my permission to move forward only after I’ve thoroughly pondered and considered and understood–and then written down–the implications of this forward-motion!)

I’m amazed. I just had no idea that the Lord would give me to a man who would care so deeply about the intricacies of who I am–my strengths and my weaknesses–and that his grace and love, both spoken and silently displayed, would be a constant reminder and revelation of God’s heart toward me. I thought I was just the helper, you know? I thought we’d get a to-do list from heaven, stick it on the fridge, split up the duties, and that would be marriage. But how I underestimated the perfect plan of God–and more, the love of God toward me. The fact that God so carefully designed a covenant that would offer so much speaks of His immeasurable love for me.

Yes, I’m blessed. I still have to pinch myself sometimes. I woke up this morning and saw the envelope from a card he gave me, his writing scrawled on the front, propped on my nightstand. I touched it and thought, “Crazy. Ryan Dunphey loves me.” Cool, huh?

I think so.

Proverbs 30:18-19

When creating this website, I had high hopes of daily posting the nuances of delight I experience in walking alongside my beloved–she’s certainly everything wonderful–but I find myself too often unable to articulate such marvelous inexplicability.

Ah well, I am not alone:

“There are three things which are too wonderful for me, Four which I do not understand: The way of an eagle in the sky, the way of a serpent on a rock, the way of a ship in the middle of the sea, and the way of a man with a maid.”

sudden

“Keep a journal,” Mrs. Kinnen said.

Keeping a journal means, to me, simply slowing down enough to notice: to notice moments, feelings, faces and places, and to ponder them for so long that you come to cherish them. And once I truly cherish something, there is the compulsion to write it down and honor it with a permanent record.

So I’m taking a deep breath these last few days.

This morning I woke a bit on the late side (after 7; what a sluggard!) Actually, I was privileged to wake up four times this morning–but that’s not part of this story.

I woke up under the familiar weight of my down comforter, lofty after years of use because of my diligent “fluffing”. My first sight was of shelves of books–journals, textbooks, art books, magazines, and children’s stories–that each tell of an interest I have, or, at least, have had. My eyes wander: there are the tall pineapple-crowned posts of my bed; there are the photos of places I have seen and want to remember; there are the chairs I loved and bought because of my mother’s encouragement to do so; there is the artwork of a best friend, the gift of a sister, the framed card I thought sweet enough to preserve… There is the collection of my years on the earth.

And high on a top shelf, noticeable because it was recently moved and still seems out of place (I don’t adjust to change so very quickly), is a vase bursting with dried flowers. Each time it catches my eye, the thought is the same, and this time was no different: “Those are not quite as pretty as at first. I’ll need to collect a new bouquet from the gardens this summer.”

Ah, this summer. Suddenly I was taking in the room with a fresh appreciation, although my mind was wandering. Summer has always meant one thing for sure: long days out in the hot afternoon sun, weeding and turning sod and pruning and transplanting, rewarded by vibrant patches of color that grew larger each year. But this summer? What will this summer be?

There are winds of change, and a sense of excitement mingled with twinges of sadness. There are summer days of hot sun when the air is still and smothering, and suddenly a gust of wind will sweep through–and it stops you suddenly, because you recognize the cool temperature and sweet smell as the warning of drastic change. Rain is coming.

Change is coming, and I realized, as I looked at the dried arrangement in my room, that without even realizing it, my summers of working in Mama’s perennial beds have been relegated to the attic of my memory, to be retold to nieces and nephews and even my own children.

Sudden.

I’m always struck by the fact that, no matter how much planning and thinking goes into a transition, there is still a certain moment, a sudden instant, when that transition takes place. All the planning in the world can not change the pace at which that happens. How many weddings have I attended and simply marveled at the fact that, regardless of whether the event took two months or two years to plan, that man and that woman, after repeating two short sentences, just had their lives changed. It’s sudden, whether you ease in or dive in.

And I guess part of that “sudden” is happening already, in the realization that suddenly childhood Christmases are a memory, summer gardens are a memory, coming home to my siblings is a memory, getting rides with my mom is a memory, my identity as only a daughter is a memory.

I don’t mean to sound morbid or sad, because I certainly am not. If anything, as I process what effect this “suddenly” has had on my life, and I box up each memory and tuck it away to be retold, I realize how very full of wonderful things my life has been and how very rich in blessing I have always been. This morning, as I looked at those telling flowers, I thought, “I can’t wait to tell stories about how Mama and I loved the same things together, and how my life was permeated with the warmth of love.”

So today I’m excited about change, and even more excited because of the wealth with which I face the future. I have much to pass on.

the beginnings of covenant

A week and a day.

My favorite part is waking up each morning, and even before my conscious has kicked into gear, being aware of sensation on my left ring finger. I feel for it, unthinking, and am suddenly awakened by the reminder that yes, I am wearing a ring (never before heard of), and yes, it means that now, even in my unaware state, I belong to someone. I am promised.

A woman told me last night of her husband’s daily love letters during their courtship, and how great a revelation it was of the security there is in love. Yes, this covenant love is an amazing picture of His love for the Bride, and as Ryan expresses constant affection, it is opening my ears to hear the echo of His whisper in each word.

What a wonder is this depth of love.