on it being worth it

I do indeed have the nerve to carry on posting without more than a nod to the fact that, yes, I did just get married and begin a new life with a man, who is now my husband. The picture will have to suffice. Or if you’d like to watch our slideshow, you are very welcome.

Life is moving forward. Right now I’m trying to deal with the fact that we’ve just painted our living room a color that can only be called peach. We were going for a nice neutral tan.

Also, September was the craziest. I’ve been fighting fatigue and a cold, and as I sit here, I’m wondering if it might even be strep throat, because I heard it’s going around. I find it hard to feel like I’m thriving.

This morning I woke up feeling very dreadful--as in, dreading the day ahead. Sunday mornings are sometimes difficult for me, because they involve a lot of people, particularly a lot of people whom I don’t know. And I knew I’d be picking my friend Ying up, to bring her to church. She’s from China, and I’ve known her for a year; she’s a sweet one. But today I dreaded the language barrier and the pressure to keep the conversation rolling. And how do I debrief with her about church? She has told me that she believes almost everything the Bible says about Jesus, but how do I help her move forward in faith? Frankly, not only have I been fighting a cold, I’ve been fighting an attitude problem. Today I thought to myself that I’m sick of this whole others-centeredness thing. Overrated.

A cool thing happened though. While I was sitting on the couch in the parlor, waiting for the first service to end, I watched two little boys. They’re brothers, Max and I-wish-I-knew-the-other-one’s-name. Look alikes and the spitting image of their dad. The older one was talking to the younger, and the little guy just put his hand on his brother’s chest, with so much trust and affection. And the older brother really seemed to want the company and attention of the younger one, and it was like setting a bone. I remembered why we’re all so gung-ho about love. It’s what we need and want. It’s what Ying needs from me, it’s what I want to give her. It makes the work I do more worth it than I’m aware. Ying is worth every spare moment that I give her, every awkward interaction. I want her to know that she is infinitely valuable.