[More than a Wedding] On Building a Marriage

20 Apr


I was never that little girl who doodled about her dream wedding. I never thought about what colors I would use, what type of dress I might wear or the man I would marry.

I was far too busy playing under the trees that were scattered over 11 acres around our 150 year old farm house. I would choreograph countless dances and pretend the wind was my music. I would boss my little sister around and pretend school among the fallen leaves and tree stumps. I would go on adventures, pack up the red wagon with sandwiches, juicy juices and walkie talkies and head down to the bottom less spring that was on the other side of our field. I never stopped dreaming, imagining, pretending, dancing. I was told I could change the world. And I whole heartedly believed it.

 Now, don’t get me wrong, I loved to plan. It became a hobby. I planned every one of my birthdays since I was five. I planned my own baptism like it was a wedding. Carefully I  chose  the appropriate invitations, paper and guests and the pool party that immediately followed. I suppose I thought if I was going to go down in the water I should invite everyone else too as well. Even now, I plan. I plan youth group events, I plan dates, I plan what I am going to wear tomorrow and the goals I want to accomplish for the week.

Never did I plan on falling in love. I didn’t even try. Actually, I ran as fast as I could from it in the beginning. Falling in love required me to be vulnerable, self-aware, other-aware, co-existent with another. I was fearful of losing my natural born independence and sassiness. I struggled with allowing someone to take care of me. I was hesitant to share my my flaws and my unique talents with someone. No longer was I choreographing a solo beneath the trees; I had to learn to partner, to trust another with my weight. The fear of being dropped hindered me us. I had to become familiar with the words us, we, together. I wasn’t sure I wanted to grow up…with someone else.

Lucas danced in and graciously and patiently helped me vulnerably peel back my layers as I tried to do the same for him. He never tried to tower over me. And when he tried to pay for all of our dates I sassily pulled out my purse; he used to hate that. He wanted to be the best man he could be for me…and he was and is. He quickly learned that being the best man for me wasn’t doing everything for me but allowing me to join in and do things together. Being the best man for me didn’t mean he had to lead me, direct me, or be the headship of our relationship. We found rest and peace in equality. Becoming his equal and him becoming mine is the most important life breathing act we have, has and will continue to live out. When we consciously made had that conversation at the beginning of our love falling we drastically reduced the opportunity for competition, control, hierarchy and manipulation. We decided to dance with sweet abandon. We said hell to a led waltz. We wouldn’t be slaves to submission.

Now, of course, we have our struggles. Oh, have we had our struggles already. But we struggle together and not under the heel of one another. We find the embrace of our hands and the locking of our eyes and remind each other we were made to do this together. Us, we, together. Those words have made themselves at home in my heart now and keep making more and more room to do so every day of marriage.

Someone, who I unfortunately can not remember told me something very, very important at the very beginning of our engagement. This person told me that planning a marriage was far more important than planning a wedding. Planning a wedding was easy in comparison to planning a marriage. I could imagine, envision and dream up the most beautiful wedding (which, although I am biased, our wedding was so breath-taking and spirit- filled) and I could easily put those plans into action. Whether if it was collecting broaches for my broach bouquet or trying on dresses I could fulfill that plan with little effort. But planning a marriage that rests on equality, breathes love in and breathes forgiveness out, holds pain and struggle up to the light and remembers the words us, we, together takes more than dollar bills, a wedding planner or a hot glue gun. It takes back breaking work, an extreme amount of vulnerability, honesty and unconditional forgiveness. Sometimes, it seems impossible and sometimes it just is. We fall short of forgiveness and we lit bitterness creep in. We break down. But we break down together. Us, we, together.  

So, although planning my wedding was a time I will always cherish and adore; I hope planning our marriage takes precedence. I hope that love always wins even when it doesn’t seem it will. I hope equality always reigns. I hope that our children will better understand real love, God, forgiveness, compassion, communion, service, selflessness and adoration because of the love they see us share with one another. I hope we always value each other’s worth, talents, gifts, flaws and uplift and celebrate them. Together.

Us, we, together.

Dear Lucas, 

           You are my beloved and I am yours. I can close my eyes and remember how much God’s Spirit enveloped me as I walked down the aisle to meet you. The wind was spectacular and it literally took my breath away- I felt God. The wind reminded me of the the days when I used to dance solo under the trees as a little girl, I felt God then too. When my eyes met yours, no longer was I fearful of abandoning my independence because with you, I knew I didn’t have to. You embraced it. You celebrated it and encouraged me to become more of the person I was created to be- you still challenge me to do this every day. There were so many holy moments on our wedding day- the wind, the spontaneous slow dance during our ceremony, the tears on your cheek, they way you watched me walk to you under that God filled tree, your hands in mine and mine in yours, the whispers you breathed into my ear. May we take these holy moments into every single moment of our marriage. Grunt. 

Us, We, Together

Mrs. Hutson

                                                                                                                                 

                                                                                                                                                   

Marching into April (ooh, see what I did there, ay?)

4 Apr

Ha! What a ridiculous subject title!

Well March Photo A Day Challenge is over. I did pretty well I think, only missing a couple of days when I just plum forgot. Now April has arrived, and so has the new photo challenge list from fat mum slim!

Join me, won’t you?
April 4: someone that makes me smile:
 
he also makes this southern woman swoon.
We have been together four years and married for less than one. Some of you may know of the terrifying news we received a few weeks ago. A lot of you know the story but I would like to vulnerably share the layers under it. This is very personal but I feel the need to share honestly about we’re going through, because this life is real and what we are going through is real. 
Friday I hold one of the eight babies and dream and stir about the upcoming weekend. The chance to soak up time with my other half and fill my tank so that I can run the next week when I only have a few hours with him each night. By Friday, I’m sputtering. I remember feeling unsettled all of a sudden, so I check my purse for my phone. Missed calls. A text. It reads “Hey honey, I am on the way to the doctor’s. I accidently pricked myself with a needle at work. Call me”. I freeze. Breath is hard to find. The room whirls and closes in. I call with shaken hands. He seems so cool. So unbothered. So him. I in turn, become more me. My imagination sweeps me away and I envision the worst. I get frustrated that he seems so okay and unaware. I try my best to self soothe. I ask. I ask questions. I ask a lot of questions. He has no answers. he calms me. (so backward and selfish I think to myself)  I wait. I consume myself with the babies or at least I try. I smile at them and laugh but it seems so fake and so shallow because it is. I wait to hear if the patient has HIV. Co workers assure me that it will be okay. I nod. I cringe because I know how real life can be. The phone rings. I cry. I wish I hadn’t tried to convince myself that the patient wasn’t because it made it all the more dramatic and painful that the patient was and is. I run to the bathroom and sob. Feeling more scared than I ever have. Fear didn’t creep in, it raided through setting up camp in every corner of my head and heart. I called my mom. I cried some more. She prayed. I breathed. I splashed cold water onto my blotchy, red face. I looked like hell. I felt it too. I collected myself. Went back to my babies. They smile at my arrival, not caring that I look like a crazy women. I talk with the other women, one compliments my earrings and I remember thinking how earrings were useless and stupid right now. I wanted to rip them out. Instead, I thanked the compliment and realized that she was trying to soothe and love me. He feels so far away. Like he flew to Australia and left me here. I need to see him. feel him. hear his voice in the same room. We go to lunch and I bask in his presence. The world is right again. We are together. We can rule this world. This mountain. This Hell. I ask a million more questions. I want to know not what just the doctor said but what he was like. Did he have good character? Answers are vague with no assurance. We won’t know a thing for six months. The waiting is awful. That is a long time for fear to hang around…it’s already building mansions in my mind. We have changed. Together is different. No longer can we be spontaneous or flitty. We are over cautious.We are nervous. We are fear stricken. We think I am pregnant. I wonder if this was our last shot. I take a test. I take 5 tests. 3 look positive. 3 blurry crosses. 2 vertical lines. I throw up. I wait. I really become angry at having to wait. 4 days late. 5th day I sob at the sight of hope dashed. The red reminder is so cruel. Everyone else goes about normally, while I silently scream. People celebrate their new bellies all around me. I morn the loss of hope, again. I become paralyzed, emotionless. I wander around. I sleep a lot. I cry when no one is looking. I try my hardest to be happy for others. Fear is so loud. Six months is so far away. I cling to him more than ever. We wait. 

The Extra in the Ordinary

18 Mar

If you are a Facebook friend, Twitter or Lightbox follower then you might have noticed an abundance of photos pouring out from myself.

That would be because I’m on a mission.

A challenge.

An endeavor to find holiness in the mundane. To capture beauty in a cup of morning coffee or hope in the crook of a smile.

We walk by miracles. We pass by the extraordinary in pursuit of getting things done. By the end of the day most of our tasks are completed but our souls, our creative minds, are left unfulfilled; thirsty for a drop of awareness. We are wandering blind.

So my mission is extravagant but the means are ordinary and simple. I ask you to join in with me if you go to sleep dehydrated from the mundane and thirsty for holiness.

This is what you will need:

A camera (most of us have them in our pockets and purses- pull out that cell phone!)

An aware mind and open heart.

This guide:

[Source]

You do not have to use this, but I find that it helps me focus and gives me inspiration. I also find that it has just been a starting point for me- I am pulling out my camera phone all the time now!

If you have an Android phone like myself, than I highly recommend the app called Lightbox. It is Android’s best version of Instagram.

If you do decide to join me, would you let me know in my comment box below with your Twitter handle, Lightbox & FB username? I would love to follow your journey and pictures! Don’t forget to hashtag # your photo with #marchphotoaday and @fatmumslim (she created this list and has a fab blog).

So, to sign out this post I will leave you with today’s challenge.

18. A corner of your home 

My other findings:

 

 

Beauty in the mess. 

Baby Scribble

11 Mar

Source

Some of you might know that I have been writing another blog for my future child(ren). Love letters to them if you will. I know to many, this might sound crazy but Lucas and I have talked about what type of parents we want to be before we were even engaged and married. We really feel called to be parents and really good ones at that. I thought it would be neat to write letters to my baby before it was even thought of so that one day it could know what was going on in our minds and hearts as newly weds. I plan to keep this blog private until I become pregnant. However, from time to time I will give you a little preview. So, without further due, here is my most recent post from my “not-just-yet” blog: 

Dear not-just-yet baby,

Right now mommy is snuggled up in her favorite robin egg blue throw, candles lit and her Civil War’s station playing on Pandora. Daddy is sitting at the table sketching lighting designs and asking my opinion. He works with a furrowed brow and a steady hand. He stops for a break with a pencil behind his ear. He doesn’t realize it, but he’s making me fall more and more in love with him. He goes back to the table, erases, wipes the dust away and sets his pencil back in motion, co- creating with God and inspiring me all the while.

This is a typical night in the Hutson home. I wonder what you will bring here with you- some tears probably and hopefully giggles too. Joy will abound while our wallets become deeper black holes but we won’t care too much because your love will fill and spill out into all the empty crevices and holes around this house. We won’t care too much about the insomnia ridden bodies and minds, the lack of washed hair and abundance of sweat pants because we will have you. you sweet sweet baby you.

No sketches or designs on a notepad could draw you up or sum up this co creation. We can’t wait for you much longer but we know we have to. So, with furrowed brows, steadied hands we scribble love notes to you, about you. We proclaim your name in a dusty no. 2 marking hoping these paper rants will subdue our desire to put you into motion.

Love,

The not-just-yet Mommy.

Hello My Name is:

4 Mar

Ok readers, I need your input. I want to name my blog.

Sydneyarden just isn’t cutting it.

It says nothing about my blog.

So, I want some of your creative insights and ideas that capture what my blog is all about (which is often scattered brain and completely unorganized).

Here are some words I think describe me. I have been playing with them:
Sassy. Sassafrass. Sasspot. etc.

I thought about calling this blog the Sass Spot but if you say it out loud it sorta sounds like you are trying to say Sasquatch with a lisp and that is just ever so depressing.

So get your thoughts brewin’ and let me know-seriously, leave a comment! Otherwise I am going to have to dedicate my writings to Sassy Sasquatches and pretend that I believe in them. Help a girl out yo’.

-Sydney

I’m A Women Warrior.

2 Mar

I found myself immersed in reading some of the papers I wrote whilst studying theology at Belmont. I forget how much I enjoyed the topics I wrote about. So, why not share some of them with you? The paper I want to post today is something I wrote my very first semester as a freshman for an English class so please read it with that in mind. I still feel very passionate if not more about this topic. Go ahead, and call me a feminist.

Sydney  Dawbarn-Robinson

November 14, 2007

Dr. Bonnie Smith

English 1010

Revised Copy

Woman: Capable Enough to Preach and Lead?

My heart is attached to this subject strongly and I want to make that clearly evident before I pursue anything else in my research. My own life experiences have influenced the desire to investigate and support this strong calling I feel toward this particular topic. I have been told that the calling on my life contradicts the “Word of God” and that as a woman I am not capable of handling a role such as pastoring, preaching or even praying in front of other men. Instead of accepting these warnings, I intend to use them as motivation to support my heartfelt beliefs with facts, testimonies and Biblical information. My objective in this research is not only to inform and make a point, but also to inspire, challenge and give hope to all generations of women. This requires an open mind and heart from the reader and it is my hope that you would join me on this journey with both.

To understand and appreciate my views and beliefs we must first explore the opposing side’s understanding of this controversial issue. Because there are so many stems and interpretations related to this issue I have decided to focus on two denominations with opposing views in context of female leadership in the church: Presbyterian USA and Church of Christ.  The reason I chose these particular

denominations is because I have had past experience with both churches and am familiar with their faith and practices.

I grew up in a non-denominational church myself where female pastors preached the “Good News” and we respected them for it. This idea was also present when I would occasionally attend my best friend’s Presbyterian USA church. I never questioned the idea of having a female pastor. It was the norm for me and for years that idea was not challenged. However, last year I attended a Church of Christ private school for my senior year of high school. I immediately became aware of the gender discrimination within their denomination when the seniors held a devotion night before the first day of school. After hearing a short sermon (brought by a man) they opened the floor for prayer. After a few young men prayed, I decided as the new student, to offer my own prayer to the group. Afterwards, I was pulled aside and told that they did not accept “girls” to pray in front of men. I could not even comprehend at first, what that meant and was bewildered by such news. A similar experience happened a few weeks later when one of my teachers announced to the class that he needed participants to volunteer to speak and pray during chapel for the rest of the year. He began to hand out slips of paper, but I soon realized that he skipped my desk and every other girl’s and only handed them out to the boys. It was then when I felt an overwhelming feeling of worthlessness and helplessness. I had never felt so discriminated and unworthy in my life and thought to myself “this must be a glimpse of what slaves felt like”. All of these wounds were re-opened every day as their beliefs were reinforced and practiced everyday.

The Church of Christ states in one of their belief statements that “We believe that a man must be called of God by revelation and ordained by those having authority, to enable him to preach the Gospel and administer the ordinances there of” (Church of Christ 12).  You would never find a woman behind a pulpit preaching the Gospel at a Church of Christ because they believe that it is only a job men are capable of doing. Preachers try to comfort the women by stressing and elaborating about how much value there is in cooking, cleaning and looking after children but what happens to the woman who does not fit into that mold?

We meet several women in the Old Testament who rebel against and desperately try to flee from that mold. In fact, Eve is a perfect example of what God intended women to truly be, no matter how hard theologians and pastors try to fit her into the typical female mold. Carolyn Curtis James introduces a very intriguing insight into the scripture: “First, God created Eve to be his image bearer-“in his image and likeness”-and second, to be the ezer, or the strong helper”(James 31).   I would like to call attention to the word ‘ezer’. Earlier on, the church defined this word as “helpmeet” and specifically labeled it as a helper in the home and marriage. (James 35)

However, recently the idea of women being made to be man’s helper has been contradicted with this discovery:

…scholars pointed out that the word ezer is used most often (sixteen of twenty-       one occurrences) in the Old Testament to refer to God as Israel’s helper in times of trouble.  That’s when ezer was upgraded to “Strong helper”, leaving Christians debating among themselves over the meaning of “Strong” and whether this affects a woman’s rank with respect to the man. Further research indicates ezer is a powerful Hebrew military word whose significance we have barely begun to unpack.  The ezer is a warrior, and this has far-reaching implications for women, not only in marriage, but in every relationship, season, and walk of life” (James 35, 36).

What a wonderful insight and fact. This supports the idea of God creating and equipping women with leadership qualities, enough so to call them ‘warriors’.  This theory contradicts any notion that women are only able enough to be a “stays at home mom”.

When we explore the scripture in depth, rather than at face value we are able to discover and explore simple truths that can impact, challenge and expand our faith and knowledge of God.  Unfortunately, this idea is too much of a challenge than most Christians are comfortable with, so instead they just skim the top of the water instead of diving in and becoming immersed with the richness of faith. Most preachers quote from 1 Timothy 2:11-12 which states “Let a woman learn by listening quietly and being ready to cooperate in everything. But I do not allow a woman to teach or to have authority over a man…” However, I would like to call attention to a few verses before in 1 Timothy 2:8 when it says “So, I want the men everywhere to pray, lifting up their hands in a holy manner, without anger and arguments.” Why is this part of the “Law” not enforced? Why do we not see men walking around with the arms in the air but see the second part of the Scripture so heavily emphasized? (Scott-Ferguson 140)   “When we select certain Scriptures to support the case of women’s subjugation- and they do appear to be there at first glance- we are in danger of taking selected verses to define dogma while disregarding the overall principles of God’s Word and the overwhelming evidence that woman have equal rights in his original plan” (Scott-Ferguson 141) As we said before God made Adam and Eve in His image so that we would be like him as equals.

Another wonderful Biblical reference that would seem like an obvious example of Jesus endorsing female leadership is when He commissions the woman at the well to spread the word that the Savior was in town. “He did not disregard her gender and assign a male to herald the good news” (Scott-Ferguson). Jesus did not discriminate against women then and He surely does not now but for some reason a good amount of His followers do in the present day.

Alice Scott-Ferguson puts Christians in their place when she says “Perhaps if we consider the word serve in place of ministry, we would silence the controversy over who is eligible to minister. Seen as a serving rather than a ruling role, ministry would mean following in the footsteps of Jesus who came to wash feet: to be least, not the greatest” (Scott-Ferguson 140). This is a profound thought that should be emphasized more heavily. This thought should also silent any man who is afraid of woman competing for authority.

We are not called to compete for God’s roles but we are called to share in a mutual mission that should not be limited to one gender but shared by both God’s creation. When we limit God’s service and restrict it to one gender, are we not limiting God’s power to one gender? Alice once again reinforces this with truthful, hard hitting words: “For the Christian it is in disagreement with the new covenant, and it sets up unnecessary and ungodly competition, hierarchies, and enmity between men and women” (Scott-Ferguson 46) How much more efficient and powerful our ‘service’ could be if we decided to all share in the responsibility of preaching and leading God’s people rather than compete for it?

The problem with this whole issue is that it leaves women feeling worthless, unimportant and cast aside. These feelings felt by many a woman contradicts the whole attitude the Bible stands for. God is all about finding worth in Him and His purpose for each individual, male or female.  I cringe when I hear a woman exclaim ‘I have freedom in submission’, because that just sounds like a temporary condolence of the fact that she must bow down to men instead of bowing down to her God alone.  The only being we should be submitting to and standing up for is God, not a man. “When religion conveys that one part of the Godhead is bigger, better, or more dominant that the other we represent a distorted and lopsided representation of the One whose image we bear” (Scott-Ferguson 30).  When we value power and hierarchy more than oneness and unity within the context of Christianity, we begin to demolish the cornerstone on which we are called to build His kingdom upon. When the church and the rest of the world begins to recognize that women are valued by God just as much as men are and that GOD equips and gifts women with leadership and speaking skills; that is when we will see a revolution unfold. Alice Scott-Ferguson writes it so beautifully when she says:

A woman’s role in the church should be limited only by her talents and abilities,

not her gender.  As her male counterpart is never disqualified because of gender,

neither should she be. She should have the opportunity to preach (and to be

ordained, if that is the requirement of the denomination), teach, administer, or

lead according to her calling and character. A woman’s talents, which are

considerable, are so often wasted and missed by denying her the use of her God-

given rights. These are lost to the church by the edict of patriarchy, pride, and

presumption. (142, 143)

Why would God install a passion to lead, and or a desire to preach in a woman, only to enforce a law that says she must restrain that gift? God is more of a just God than that.

“The criteria by which we are judged as women will be no different from what is expected of all believers. That in itself should tell us that in out earthly lives no standard separates females and males” (Scott-Ferguson 160). When women uphold this brilliant thought, I believe we will witness a legacy being built by unity that can be upheld and renewed by generations to come.

Even though this research at times, was frustrating and intimidating in the way of transferring my thoughts onto paper; I completely enjoyed this process.  It was exciting to put my thoughts, beliefs, and hope into words, which I have never done before with this topic.  I realize that my research is not complete and never will be as this is a very dynamic issue that will be ever changing, and ever going.  I am pleased however, that I was able to at least make a dent and a starting point, which I know I will continue to search and run with.

Bibliography

Curtis James, Carolyn. Lost Women of the Bible. Michigan: Zondervan, 2005

This book researches women in the Bible within their context of lifestyle and culture. James’s purpose of this research is to reveal and uplift the true personalities and leadership tendencies of the women in the Bible.

Brummet, Nancy and Alice Scott- Ferguson.  Reconcilable Differences. Colorado Springs, CO, 2006

This insightful book presents two different opinions and views about women’s roles by two different authors. My research comes only from Alice Scott- Ferguson. She uses a combination of her heartfelt believes and Biblical references to support her objective.

What it Means to be Home

1 Mar

As I prepared our home for our UNchurch gathering last evening, I began to think about creating a sanctuary- a peaceful and inviting place to make our guests feel at home. I thought I would share a blog post from our Not Too Shabby Designs business website I wrote before Lucas and I married.

Myself upon receiving the keys to our 1st Home

Since I was a little girl, I have always been sensitive to my surroundings, light, sound and ambience. For example, I remember sitting in my 2nd grade classroom and looking through the window of the classroom into a third grade classroom. This teacher had lamps everywhere and the awful blinding fluorescent lights were never on. It looked so comfortable and homey that when it was time to request classrooms I requested that classroom solely because of her lamps…yes, strange child I was!
Having a home isn’t just setting up furniture and decor, its creating a sanctuary to dwell in with your loved ones.  This is why I appreciate candles, lighting, throws & blankets, fireplaces, over sized chairs and coffee cups. Because we live in a hectic world with stupid crazy schedules, our souls crave a place to rest! I feel like I have been a little more sensitive to this need and have craved it since I was just a little one. Now that I am engaged and searching for a place to call home with my other half, I have never felt more of a craving to create a home. So, this little business (Not Too Shabby Designs) is scratching that itch for the time being. If i can’t create my own home right now, I would much rather create elements that will provide a little piece of sanctuary for other’s homes because I totally believe in it!
So may I urge you TODAY to come home and find a way to arrange at least one place in your home to call sanctuary. Whether it is re-arranging your furniture that allows you to enjoy a better view, lighting some candles around your bathtub or simply laying out some blankets in your sitting area, find a way to create a little more comfort in your life, because you deserve it!
Lots of love and comfort, 
Sydney  

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