Decembering

Ayyyyeeeee mis viditas. I've been on a bit of a blog hiatus. But for good reason! Aaron Michael and I took a trip on an aeroplane back to a sweet Ohio Thanksgiving last week. It was so good for the heart and soul and taste buds. We got to see my precious puppy Jake - he is now 13! Photo below. He is quite handsome, is he not? Especially for an old geezer.

And we got to spend some time with my incredible grandparents. My Grandpa had open-heart surgery the Monday before Thanksgiving, and I was so grateful that we got to see him so soon after. He was already cracking jokes by Wednesday. What a miracle the human body is... and his courage is!

We had a marvelous time, and coming back to Phoenix didn't evoke even one tear - mostly because we'll be going right back come Christmas Eve! ;)

Since we've gotten back, I've also been a bit un-blog-available because...well, we went a little Christmas crazy here in the Baer apartment. "Christmas crazy" being a misnomer, however. Might I add.

We bought a big fat jolly new tree, premium Coldstone brand hot chocolate (did you know there was such a thing?! It is to die for) and a million and one candles. We trimmed the tree, completely replaced our mantle knick-knacks with only Christmas-related decor and surrounded our bedroom window with sparkly bulbs. We've already watched both versions of How the Grinch Stole Christmas (Dr. Seuss-ian and Jim Carrey-ian.) And Aaron would have turned on The Santa Clause tonight if he could have gotten away with it. (I think I'm too tired to sit through a movie right now but if I weren't I just might have given the go ahead!) 'Tis the season! (OOH - I also bought Dave Barnes' Christmas album...YOU MUST GET IT NOW!)

Christmas craziness aside, I wanted to share some thoughts for a moment on a beautiful book I’ve been reading. It’s called “The Return of the Prodigal Son” by Henri Nouwen, and my reaction to it has been kind of curious. It was recommended to me by a dear friend who knows me quite well, and she promised it would change me. I read the forward and the first few pages thereafter and started feeling a bit uneasy – it was boring me, if I can be honest with you. It wasn’t stirring me at all and I was worried I’d have to report back to my friend that I didn’t feel what she pictured I would.

But I’ve kept reading since then, and though I have a few passages underlined and a few pages dog-eared, there isn’t one single page or word in the book that stands out to me in particular… yet it has already changed me in a way that is going to stick. Do you know that feeling? It is such a real feeling to me… it would be like waking up one day and learning you were color-blind. (This happened to Aaron a few years ago. He was quite perplexed. He inexplicably became even more so when I couldn’t stop giggling about it…) But can you imagine yourself going through that discovery? You would have to apply it to all of your memories of things you had seen before, and you’d know you would have it in mind for the rest of your life as you took in your sights.

That’s how this feels after having read this book. There is no going back. I will know what it taught me forever. Isn’t that lovely? It’s like my heart walls have changed.

I just want to share one passage that I read tonight, because it is tearing me up in such a wonderful way. I think it reminded me too of all that I’ve been learning about mercy.

Nouwen is talking about the parable of the vineyard – where the landowner hires workers each hour throughout the day, then pays each of them the same wage at the end. Naturally the workers who had been there all day aren’t too pleased. They “grumbled.” (I would too. I may even have had a 'Blockbuster' moment, as my friend Taylor calls them. More on that later). And the landowner (God) said “Are you envious because I am generous?” (Matthew 20:15). Nouwen says that for a while he used to wonder why, in the story, the landowner decides to pay the workers who had been there the shortest amount of time first, in front of all the others. Why wouldn’t he foresee the conflict and just pay the longer workers first, hoping that they would be on their way and miss the payment of the later workers? But then he learns:

“It hadn’t occurred to me previously that the landowner might have wanted the workers of the early hours to rejoice in his generosity to the latecomers. It never crossed my mind that he might have acted on the supposition that those who had worked in the vineyard the whole day would be deeply grateful to have had the opportunity to do work for their boss, and even more grateful to see what a generous man he is. It requires an interior about-face to accept such a non-comparing way of thinking. But that is God’s way of thinking. God looks at His people as children of a family who are happy that those who have done only a little bit are as much loved as those who accomplish much.”

I don’t know that there is any ‘commentary’ I could add… I just wanted to share that passage so that maybe you could be as bewildered and awed by the kind of God we have as I was. Can you imagine if we acted like the children He envisions us as... He must feel so perplexed by our self-involved cages. That passage makes me think of what C.S. Lewis says about pride as well – that it is pure comparison. The later workers couldn’t see the beauty of the landowner’s gesture because their comparison was blinding them. How much we must miss!

Hope that beats up your heart as much as it did mine. In a great way. :)

Until next time, Happy December, friends! Both Aaron Michael and I celebrate our 24^th birthdays next week, and apparently he is planning an adventurous day for us in the city…I will try to include some pictures!

[P.S. If you are an online Christmas shopper, PLEASE go to www.hughhewitt.com. Check out the banner at the top of the page that says "Good2Give." If you click through that banner to do all your normal Christmas shopping, a portion of your purchases will go to help sponsor hungry children. How can you say no to that!]

Victories

On Friday night I put on my characteristic sweatpants. They are good old Louisville High school sweatpants and they have seen better days, but I just can't help myself. They call to me on Fridays.

So I put them on, and I drove over to the grocery store. And I bought Aaron and me two great, big, freshly-baked cookies from the bakery counter. Then I got back in the car and drove home, and we ate them, and I smiled.

One day I might be able to tell you what a thing that was.

Justice and Mercy

One of the benefits/curses of working at The Phoenician is the food. Last week Aaron Michael and I got to treat my cousin Stefanie, who was in town from Maryland visiting, to a lunch at Il Terrazzo, which is the Pho's shwanky Italian joint. My buddy Josh was the manager on duty and he told us not to order, so we obliged. He brought us dish after dish... cobb salads with scallops, then spinach ravioli, then three main dishes to share: an open-faced steak sandwich, a margarita pizza, and gourmet mac n cheese. Then for dessert, lemon meringue pie, crem brulee, and a homemade chocolate peanut butter bar. Our forks were busy.

Today, three of my coworkers were at a training class all day, so it was just my boss and me. When I got there this morning, she told me to start brainstorming lunch dreams... so we eventually decided to order from Relish Burger Bistro, another restaurant on property. And I ordered "crab cake sliders." In other words, tiny crab cake sandwiches with avocado and some kind of spicy Cole slaw. They changed my life, blog friends. They changed my life. I literally danced in my chair while I was eating them. It was a special moment. If you ever come to visit me in good ole' Phoenix, which I sure hope you do, the first thing we're doing is overloading on crab cake sliders. You're welcome.

I'm not sure why I felt compelled to delve into foodie land this evening, but I've had so many fabulous munchies lately that I felt like sharing. Well, sharing/hoping to make you jealous. And, of course, your only cure for jealousy is to come and see me, right? To partake? You're getting my motives now. (Ashley and Amy. Stat.)

ANYway.

Being alone in the office today was a bit of an experience on its own, notwithstanding the crab cakes. Even though my boss was there today, she is constantly in and out of meetings, so for the better part of the day it was really just me in the ol' HR office. Sometimes when there are lulls in the outside foot traffic (which are rare, but for some reason weren't so rare today) it gets too quiet in there and I have to hum Brooke Fraser or read my e-mails out loud to myself in an English accent. (If you don't believe me that that happens, call me tomorrow and I'll do it for you. I can't tell if I'm going Australian or British, but whatever it is, it's getting good. Mate.) And being in there by myself, answering e-mails and phone calls, helping walk-ins and just generally doing my other duties is becoming really a growing experience for me. A stretching, uncomfortable, but necessary experience. Not to romanticize the 9-5 humdrum that I'm sure everyone feels to some extent... but when one spends 40 hours a week in one place, it would be silly to imagine that God's not going to teach you some lessons in there.

A few months ago my manager told me that HR exists primarily to make everyone else in the resort's job easier. That was a bit of a nudge to me. Before that, I had started getting caught up in some of the other, I hate to say it... 'policing' aspects of our gig. Making sure papers are signed, procedures are followed, etc. And those things can sometimes be necessary to help make everyone else's job easier. But say for example, a few months ago, I received a form that was filled out incorrectly. My instinct would probably have been to send the form back to it's owner and ask for a correction. And I'm being honest when I tell you that I wouldn't have done that with sinister intentions - as in, LOOK WHAT YOU DID WRONG - I would have been doing it out of an effort to make sure everyone was aware of the correct way to do things. Good intentions, I think. Good intentions that sound bad, anyway.

But every time something like that happens now, I keep trying to remind myself that we are just there to help. If a form isn't filled out correctly, I get out my trusty white-out and go to town. If a manager is rude to me on the phone, I try to imagine the pressure they must be under, and how I sometimes might seem like another obstacle to what they're trying to accomplish. And I just try to help. If i answer the phone politely and the conversation starts with a nice, big, 'LISTEN LADY,' I really try to take it in stride. I don't always do great, but I'm trying. And it helps when I remember why I'm there - to help. Not to instruct, or enforce, or be human red tape. Not to correct people when they're rude to me or avoid correcting others' errors. To help. Mercy.

I need to learn mercy. It is something I can't learn. I have such a ferocious, thriving, deep-rooted respect for justice. I am addicted to it. I think it's how I make sense of things. It's how I make sense of God and how I make almost all of my daily decisions. But I think it's eating me. It's stealing my ability to heart-learn God's grace. And it's starting to eat the place in my heart that is supposed to feed mercy.

Last week I read Hosea 6:6, which is almost absurdly clear. Sometimes God is one for prose, and then sometimes He says things like, "I desire mercy." (Verse 6). As in, 'get this or go home. I can't make it any clearer.' And I felt like throwing up. Becuase I thought He wanted fairness.

Here's the thing. I think sometimes we have to choose between two things we love already. Choosing one thing over another doesn't mean you don't love the other; it just means you love the former thing more in that moment. I feel like I'm being too abstract... say, for example, that I have to choose between drinking orange juice or cranberry juice. I love them both. But let's say I choose cranberry juice, like I just did a few minutes ago. (YUM crangrape.) That doesn't mean I don't love orange juice. It just means that at 10:15 pm on 11-9-2010 (Dang is it really 10:15??), I loved crangrape more.

And I think I need to start loving mercy more than fairness. It's so easy to find opportunities to put that in practice at work, so I've really been trying to work at it. And failing miserably, I presume, but trying. I am trying to think of examples to share with you, but I want to be careful about how much detail I get into about work here online. In the peanut gallery.

Here's an example from home. If Aaron came to me with a dirty shirt on Thursday and wanted to wear it on Friday, mercy would want me to do a load of laundry; even though I hate laundry like the plague and usually keep a strict saturday-only policy, which Aaron knows about. When in theory, I suppose I could go to Aaron and say "you should have given me that shirt last weekend; now you'll have to wait. You know I only do it on Saturday." That's a silly example and I think I can confidently say I have never been so weirdly cruel as to do something like that. (And anyway he'd probably just tell me to take a hike and he'd do the laundry himself...rightly so, ha.) But it feebly describes what I'm trying to say. Sometimes the fair thing to do, or the justice-loving thing, might be in conflict with the mercy-loving thing. And I need to choose the mercy-loving thing. Always.

For a much better example than I could dream up, check out the book of Philemon. It's short and sweet, and it'll make you cringe. Onesimus used to be the servant of Philemon, but he ditched him and likely stole his money. He ended up running into Paul during his escape. They become friends and Paul write to Philemon. He says listen, take Onesimus back. Treat him like a brother and pay for him to become a citizen as well. Do it for me. I'm sure you will. Good day.

And there's the Most Hasty Summary of Philemon You've Ever Read. But nevertheless - it's mercy. Undeserved kindness. Check it out. (If you would like more info on the back story, shoot me an e-mail and I can ask my pastor for some of his notes.)

The only other thing I want to say on this subject is that I'm starting to investigate the possibility that maybe justice is never ours to choose. Maybe the only One who has the right to play the justice card is the perfect One. (Now that's not to say we shouldn't be wise. If someone steals my purse I'm not going to not call the police out of some delusion of mercy. But I'll call the police because I want my purse back, not because I want to punish it's robber.)

Mother Theresa, who still haunts me (in a good way) just about every day since I read this, called her mission the Sisters of Mercy. She learned it so much better than I.

What do you think?


CRANGRAPE juice, hurrah!

Azariah and Polling Places

Next Tuesday's going to be a big day. One of my favorite morning radio hosts, Barry Young, keeps saying that this could be the biggest midterm election of his lifetime. I'm not sure about all that, but I know I am excited for it. My handsome hubby won't even let us get mail-in ballots...there is just something too invigorating about physically going to the polls on election day, he says. I secretly agree.

Politics are divisive, and not just for the same old reasons. It actually seems to be a pretty divisive topic in the church, too, which is really too bad. I'll admit - even I used to be someone who questioned getting "involved" with politics as a Christian. I heard a friend recently say that Jesus never said the word "politics" so we should all just go on our merry way. I'm sure my buddy had/has the best intentions, but I want to explore this a little bit tonight.

I've been deliberating over 1 and 2nd Kings for the past 6 months or so. Some chapters are bloody and violent and dramatic, and others seem to be just a rattling off of facts, always ending with the subtly snotty "as for the rest of what this king did.... are they not written in the annals of the kings of Israel?" (That seriously always cracks me up. I feel like the writer is yelling at me. I didn't ASK you what else he did, guy! It's ok!) But the main story line right now is that God's people have basically split into two 'nations', Israel and Judah. Israel has given to idol worship, building a false god, Baal ,and creating all these weird worship rituals and appointing 'preists'. This is an absolute affront to God, obviously, and He is heartbroken over them. Judah, however, continues to "do what is right in the eyes of the Lord" - for the most part.

Here's what I was reading last night:

"In the twenty-seventh year of Jeroboam King of Israel, Azariah son of Amaziah king of Judah began to reign. He was sixteen years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem fifty-two years. His mother's name was Jecoliah; she was from Jerusalem. He did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, just as his father Amaziah had done. The high places, however, were not removed; the people continued to offer sacrifices and burn incense there.

The Lord afflicted the king with leprosy until the day he died, and he lived in a separate house."
-2 Kings 15: 1-5

("The high places" is referring to the altars Israel had built to worship Baal.)

And all at once I couldn't blame God but I also couldn't not tell him how much that rattled my "fairness" meter. How could he hold Azariah responsible for the sins of Israel? And not just hold him responsible - but plague him with such a terrifying disease?

I don't want to get into a discussion of God's judging one person for another, because I'll be honest with you - I haven't read enough on the subject and I'm not sure I know just exactly what God has to say about it. But hear me - I want to go in a slightly different direction with this, and it's a direction that points right to politics.

Azariah, though not king of Israel, was in a place of power as king of Judah. And during his time of power, Israel was continuously perverting, offending, satirizing, downplaying, mocking, and disobeying God; who not-so-long-ago had saved them from Egypt. Azariah was not doing those things - but he did nothing to stop them. And apparently God found that so disgusting, he saw fit to plague Azariah with leprosy. Not a subtle statement. And maybe there was a point when Azariah's left arm had the sores but his right arm didn't. I bet that right arm would have done anything to stop it from getting to him if he could have.

Listen. Anyone can sit and stare at a blank wall and after 24 hours, claim to have spent a day without sinning. But what's holy in that? I've been memorizing Proverbs 31, which described a 'noble wife.' Verse 27 says she "does not eat the bread of idleness." There it is again. 'Not sinning,' if accomplished by doing nothing, is also 'not doing anything good,' friends.

I don't want to get off on a rabbit trail. I also don't want to imply that we are responsible for wrong decisions our government makes - especially when they make them against our will. BUT - I do think that when we see something going wrong, we are obligated to at least try to stop it. God must value that - because in the absence of it, in Azariah's case, He felt that the appropriate punishment was a deadly disease and a cutting-off from society.

Moreover, we, just like Azariah have power. Luckily for us, we live in a democratic society, which asks for our vote. That is our power. I have heard so many people shrug off getting involved in politics as Christians, quoting Jesus when He said "give to Caesar what is Caesar's" and interpreting that to mean "we should leave government alone." But in the case study of the United States, what does a democracy, our "caesar," demand? Involvement. Give to Caesar.

I would also make the argument to someone who says we should leave government alone that in this day in age, as Christians, government is not leaving us alone; and we can't sit by like Azariah. I want to say two more things about this. The first is that I don't think it's always clear how we should vote. I am not trying to say that as Christians, we should all just blindly vote Republican and call our duty done. I am also not trying to liken our government right now to Israel. First and foremost, I am just saying we should vote. I can't stand when people try the whole "when did you hear Jesus say the word 'politics'?" thing. That's just semantics and it's pretentious. I didn't hear Jesus say the words "grapefruit juice" either but I don't think it's a sin to drink it. And since when didn't Jesus plead with us to change the world? Isn't that the reason He made us; and left us here in this crappy situation, even after it became crappy? Because he thinks we can make it better? And isn't that the Great Commission - to love each other, and look out for each other, and try to give everyone the freedom to live as He lived? Look around, sweet friends. It's starting to get a bit harder to live as He lived. It's harder to give to the needy of our own volition when a family with an income of roughly $60,000 a year is forecasted to have their taxes increase by an extra $2,000 next year. It's harder to help Phoenician associates living in poverty visit the doctor when they're sick when their HSA cards won't even cover over-the-counter meds anymore next year. (Rabbit trail again - but you cannot possibly imagine how many people depend on those accounts for over-the-counter lifelines like allergy meds and even shampoo. Starting January 1, they're SOL.) It's harder to stand up for life when a president doesn't even acknowledge that that life exists. If we don't get involved and we think we're 'doing good' by staring straight ahead, I think Azariah would have a different story for us.

The last thing I want to say - while trying as hard as I can to avoid another rabbit trail - is that it is a crime, a betrayal, and plain willful ignorance to ignore the abortion issue. You can't get around it. You can't pretend it's not there, or that it's not a giant tragedy, or that it's not a black and white issue. Whether a person is a person or not is not a moral question. It's a scientific one. And there is only one answer, friends. I'm not a question mark if one person thinks I'm real and another one doesn't. I either am or I am not. If a baby is a baby, then there are no questions left. You cannot not get involved. Whatever other questions you might have about Christians in politics don't apply to this. I hope that you hear me.

There are so many facets to the Christians-in-politics issue, but I just feel encouraged that God read 2 Kings 15 to me last night. I hope my rambling about it encourages you, too, and I hope this election next Tuesday pleases our Guy in Charge.

P.S. Shameless plug - if you live in AZ and you're still on the fence about some candidates, check out my gorgeous husband's brainchild, the AZ Voter Guide. And hey, donate to CAP while you're at it! ;)

Autumn

Some days I feel magical. Then, other days I feel like everyone else is more magical. And then on really rare days I feel like everyone else is magical, and I am colorless. I may get flak for this, but I always chalk those days up to being somehow related to my womanhood. I am sure they are. Because Aaron never feels colorless - not that he should. But so many women do, don't we?

Today I don't feel so magical, but I certainly can see that everything around me is. So let's talk about that.

Autumn in Arizona is quite different than the chilly, cloudy, cozy autumns in Ohio. But I am still mesmerized by it all the way out here. Right now I am sitting at our kitchen table with every single window in our apartment open around me. Do you realize that that hasn't happened in almost 7 months? The heat usually keeps them closed and sun-blocking curtains drawn, but today they are wide open. And we have A LOT of windows - it's the first thing we loved about this place. Tonight it's a bit breezy out, and the crickets are really at it. Jethro keeps running to the back door to see what's going on out there - such a watchdog. The other night we were woken up by coyotes right outside our window, so I think he is feeling a bit hyper-alert.

Today after work I could feel that it was Ohio football weather - I would say it was around 65 degrees in Ohio talk, but that translates to about 81 out here. (They really do feel the same - it's the lack of humidity). So I knew I couldn't let the opportunity pass. I got Jethro hooked up to his leash and made a mad dash out to the street, and he and I went on a 45 minute run around the mountains up here. The sun set while we were out, and it was purple and pink and orange and magic. By the time we got back to the apartment it was downright chilly out, and I had a good stretch on the porch and got in a hot shower.

Now there are pumpkins sitting on our hearth, and a jar of apple butter on the counter, and the open windows are making it just cold enough for me to need a blanket. Aaron Michael is in bed... he's been getting sleepy earlier and earlier lately. He must be getting old. ;) It's quiet and dim and dark and chilly in here, and even though I don't feel magical, tonight certainly does.

If I were magical today I would have something profound and simple and enlightening to say, or a story to tell, or a verse to tie in my feelings and what-I've-learned-today. But I'm not, and I don't. I'll just let you know that if you're not here, I wish you were, and I wish you could try out an Arizona autumn because it's quite charming. We found this in Sedona two weeks ago.

Perhaps in a few days something will click.

October 13

All day today, I've been thinking, "I've GOT to write a blog today." Because I always write something on October 13. Ever since the real October 13 in 2004. When Pastor Phil died.

But I'm not quite sure what to say; on the 2010 October 13. Sadness speaks for itself and it's not fun to write under, and it's not new. My sadness has changed over the years though. Now instead of being sad for Pastor Phil, who is done with the pain that his cancer caused him and undoubtedly singing God's praises with the best of them, I am sad for the people that knew him and miss him, and the people that might've come to know him. But that's the way it works.

His beautiful wife Carole was remarried a few years ago to Tim, who is just about the coolest guy on the planet. And now in addition to Carole and Phil's two too-cool-for-school boys Jared and Jordan, Carole and Tim have the cutest baby on the planet - and I really mean that. You know how some people think you're supposed to say that all babies are cute, on account of them being babies? No. I don't think so. We all know there are un-cute babies. But Ty is seriously the cutest baby I have ever seen. THE CUTEST. His nose makes me giggle uncontrollably. The adorableness is that overpowering.

Pastor Phil's last words were "I love you Jesus, I worship you." Have you ever, in your life, heard of that being someone's last words? Well you have now. And if it doesn't give you goosebumps, well, you're on your own.

And here's another cool thing that Pastor Phil did for us. Every year on this day, a group of friends that are now scattered all across the map always seem to take a minute for each other. Texts, e-mails, facebooks messages, phone calls. I was part of this group, and they changed my life and made me feel loved even when I didn't comb my hair and I couldn't stop humming Copeland. Even though October 13 was a gut-wrenching day for us, we went through it together and it seems like it just might always stay that way.

Thanks, Pastor Phil. I hope you're enjoying yourself. I'm sure you are.

Anniversary One

Today we've decided to open all the blinds in our apartment. We don't normally do this, on account of the heat it usually lets in. Actually, I can't think of the last time we did. But it's very sunny and bright in here again. It feels like a new apartment. And a new day.

My heart is aching a little bit though as we watch the Packers game (and Steelers game on Packers' commercial breaks. I know the rules). It's 52 degrees at Lambeau Field today. Perfection. If I were there I might even wear gloves.Anyway, it's still over 100 degrees here in the southwest. It feels like nothing has changed in years. Like it's been summer since we got married a year ago. There are positive things to it, but I think seasons are good for my heart. They give the feeling that time is moving. Like you're going somewhere and getting things done. And really, you just can't underestimate how much I love a good hoodie.

I just can't help but daydream about OU, with it's brick streets and green hills and rainy days this time of year. Ohio is so quietly beautiful. If you've never been there, go once for me.

BUT. Last weekend my bud and me got to discover another breathtakingly beautiful part of our country. It was our first anniversary - look how He loves us!- so we took Friday off work and road-tripped out to Rancho Mirage, California. Since I work at The Phoenician, we get 50 % off at all Starwood hotels, so we booked a room at the Westin Mission Hills. Our Assistant Director of HR, Stefanie, just started at The Phoenician and came from this Westin. So she called her friends over there and got Aaron and I upgraded to a suite. :)

The drive out west on the I-10 was beautiful...the sky got bigger and bigger the farther west we went and the mountains got taller and the sun got hotter. We listened to the Fleet Foxes Pandora station and drank Sunkist. And then, as we got closer, these huge, white spikes started shooting up out of the sides of the mountains. And then we got closer and realized what they were - wind turbines. I have to say, they were a little unnerving. There was literally no other sign of civilization in sight - but suddently these huge (I can't describe how big, honestly), ominous, strange-looking turbines. It felt strange to look at them. Futuristic. Do we believe in that technology enough to build such huge structures? I know that sounds ignorant, but that's truly what I was thinking. And I want to take you on our trip with us for a little bit.

After we checked in to our suite, we realized that we were playing the greatest game of "let's pretend" ever...as in, let's pretend we have enough money to be doing this. So we put on "Blankest Year" by Nada Surf and jumped on the bed like 12 year olds. And I smiled like a 12 year old. So did he.

We ate at the beautiful restaurant, got drinks at the lobby bar, took lots of walks, sat out on our deck and sipped champagne in our robes, got HEAVENLY massages at the spa, had margaritas at the pool, ordered tons of room service, and even closed the curtains a couple of times to make our room pitch black and put on some movies. It was so perfect.

On Saturday night, we had a knock at the door from room service. They had an amenity for us. The ladies in my HR office had ordered us a box of chocolate and... a boom box? The server walked in, plugged it in, pushed play, and left. And Nickel Creek singing our wedding song came on. We danced.

Normally I wouldn't write about all the details of a trip like this. Because I like to have a little life between Aaron and I that is only ours. But I have been reading Kate McDonald's -er, Kate Andre's blog - about her recent wedding and honeymoon and I've just felt so inspired by it and so grateful and God lets us experience love like this. And our trip just shook my soul and I wanted to write about it. I truly can't believe how much I love Aaron, and how much more I love him every day. On Saturday night we were sitting out on our porch. I had just taken a shower and my skin smelled so clean, and I sat there in my robe holding Aaron Michael's hand. It was completely silent outside. Only crickets and a huge full moon. And Aaron told me something that I will never forget as long as I live. I'm not going to write it in here; because it is a part of our secret life. But it broke my heart and mended it at the same time. It made me cry and laugh, and it made me know that I had always been going to find Aaron, and he had always been going to find me. And that he loves me in a way I will probably never understand. I don't know why I'm so lucky, but I won't question it.

It was a beautiful trip. Here's to many more years.

The outside of our suite

Bella Vista, the restaurant


Part of our room...


Where we took our walks


The Pool


Sunny!


My guy :)