Happy to be wed

Oh my, I can't believe it. My Clare Bear is married.What a beautiful day it was, and what an incredible honor to stand up with her during the ceremony as she and Ben repeated their vows. I remember so distinctly the minister saying, "They will now do everything together. It will be Clare and Ben or Ben and Clare, but no longer will they make decisions on their own." What a beautiful (and sometimes frustrating) part of marriage!
I remember facing towards her and the minister performing the ceremony. She had walked down the aisle, her parents had given her away. Tears were streaming down my face and I was silently praying prayers of Thanksgiving to our Lord who had brought the two of them together. It felt so painful to "give her away" and at the same time I felt immense joy for the love and relationship she was entering into with this man. I had never seen her so in love with a man.
I was struck several times throughout the day and the days after by how much harder it is to be in a wedding after you are married yourself. I used to spend time on my hair and make up while the bride spent time on hers....not so anymore. I remember that day, just a bit over 2 years ago, and how much help I needed for the day to go smoothly and how much I appreciated those dear friends of mine who help me calm my anxious and eager heart. I was motivated by how perfect I wanted the day to be for her...and it was, perfect for her.
The joy and love I knew she was experiencing that day, I understood greater as a result of my own wedding, my experiences in my own marriage led me to hope for this love to surround her in this marriage with this man.
Though I was sad not to have my husband with me on this trip, my desire for him may have just deepened my hope for Clare's relationship with Ben. I prayed prayers of thanksgiving that day for the God that brings us together with the men whom we were destined to spend our lives with, and I continue to pray this prayer now.

headed to Iowa.

Well, I'm headed to Iowa tomorrow. Home of beautiful cornfields that extend beyond where the eye can see. Where it's too hot and too humid in the summer. Where my parents and brother live. Where I grew up.

It's going to be a fast trip, I'm going for my best friend, Clare's wedding. I've known here about as long as I've known anyone in my family....since age 3. She is like a sister to me, the sister I never had and her family cared for me like a second family, anytime they had the chance.
Clare gets married Saturday. I wonder how our lives, our stories will evolve now. Once we are both married, we'll bring our husbands into our stories. I hope that Clare, Ben, Josh and I are good friends. Seriously, I would move to Iowa to be close to Clare often....I will feel that even more after this trip I suppose.
I went digging and I found some pictures. Scattered throughout this post are pictures with Clare in them. Seriously, I wish I had the picture of us at age 3 on my computer.... we were so cute!

Seriously, I don't even plan to hold it together during this wedding, I'll probably cry; tears of happiness, excitement, sorrow. I will miss how things were Clare, just you and me.

Here's to a new season. A season with happiness, delight, and love. Clare, we're not kiddos anymore. We're both all grown up! Man, I'm going to miss Josh on this trip. I'm going to need some strong arms to hold me as I mourn this one.

Sacred memories, and a collision of sorts

Yesterday I felt as if there was a collision of sorts. A collision between traditions I have grown up with and Seattle friends.

We made crepes (to me known as Swedish pancakes). I used my grandma's recipe, and taught a couple of my friends how to do it the way she taught me, the way my dad and I do it every time I am in Iowa for Christmas. They were yummy.

I grew up making these pancakes. Thinking about it more brought me back to my grandma's kitchen in Pella, Iowa, we would make them on Christmas eve at her house. My grandparents don't live there any more and as she is nearing late stage Alzheimer's, she wouldn't be able to ever make them with me again, but I'm sure if you put some of these yummy cakes in front of her, she would smile, say something off topic and find a way to eat them. She grew up making them too I bet.

I remember making these thin, yummy pancakes on my parent's stove Christmas morning. My dad took so much pride in teaching me how. Now as he watches me make them, he stands back, both proud and a little hurt that I can self-sufficiently come up with a finished product. He often makes the batter before I am up in the morning, secretly I think just so one portion of the recipe he can call himself completely responsible for...maybe he wasn't quite ready for me to take over the tradition (as I'm sure he has memories of cooking these with his mother, my grandma as a child).

So I made the batter this time. I cooked a couple and taught my friends how to cook them too. I'm ready to take on the tradition of cooking these pancakes Dad. But next Christmas I am home, I'm going to make sure we both have our hands in it equally. I am starting to understand how the act of making these pancakes is like a memory that you yearn to play out each year. A memorial of sorts. A privilege for each of us to take part in this sacred memory.

So the collision came in as I realized that my traditions (only ever played out in Iowa) could collide with people out here in Seattle. This tradition could come together here, a completely different place, a different territory with different people. It is really hard for me to think about traditions developing (and growing) out here in Seattle, maybe because I have spent most of my life in Iowa.

It is a different landscape, different pans, a different stove, and yet the sacredness of the tradition remains. And I remain grateful for the places in my life where collisions happen, where people come together a bit different and collide, with their interests, priorities, talents. They are similar and yet different, we need these collision, God uses these collisions to make us each more whom He Created us to me. Thank God I don't live in a vacuum, and that God uses experiences, people, and places in my life to make me more whom He has always envisioned me to me.