the way I see it | Happy Birthday Nick!

From where I sit, Mr. Connolly - you are one gem of a man. 
I had to say it, the other night, after we'd had some serious "intense fellowship" (aka - arguing). Even when I'm mad at you, even in the moments where I feel hurt or unheard - I have this full awareness that you're more than I deserve and you're more of a husband than I'd even know to ask for. I don't want to ever stop knowing that. 

The way I see it, this has been a huge year of growth for you. We prayed last year on your birthday that the Lord would loosen your tongue like Zechariah and I really truly believe He answered that prayer. This year I've seen you preach, I've seen your put into action so many of the things you've thought and planned and prayed over for the years before. You've spoken truth to me, you've spoken life to our kids. You've apologized. You've had hard talks. You've counseled. You have encouraged. 

The way I see it, I'm blessed by the women who tell me "my husband had lunch with your husband the other day and was so blown away by him!" or the women who walk up to me in tears after you preach affirming how the Lord is using you. I love when other people see the vision and gifts God has given you. I know there will always be people in your life who don't appreciate those gifts and the way I see it, that's ok. It's an honor to walk with a man who wants so badly to steward what his Father has given him, but knows that none of the tools he possesses are his anyhow. 

I love that taking the kids clothes that don't fit anymore to Goodwill fills your love tank. I love that when I walk downstairs in the morning I can always expect to see you eating eggs and reading the Word. I'd be shocked to see anything else. I love that you ask Elias for a turn on the Wii and that you're such a good driver. 

The way I see it, we are just incredibly blessed to have you as a dad and husband. 
There is no getting around it. I've officially had a crush on you for 12 years and I still pinch myself when I realize I'm married to Nick. Connolly. The same Nick Connolly whose name I doodled on my notebooks in high school. The same, and not the same at all. 

I love you, husband. 
I pray you have a peaceful 30th birthday where you feel loved and appreciated. 

the seven year itch.

Monday night we went out for sushi. Sushi is my new love language.

Monday was Nick and I's seventh anniversary. 

Ya'll. If I don't write all lovey dovey schmupy about my husband on the blog often enough, it's because  I don't really have the words and I also don't want to sound braggy. But the truth is, I've landed on the very blessed end of a very sweet marriage. My husband is a hot, servant-hearted, gentle, forgiving, wise, amazing Dad, and did I mention hot? 

We've got our own issues. Most of them revolve around me being all the things he's not. 

Our marriage isn't perfect and we bicker and we're silly sometimes. 

But all in all, I couldn't be more thankful for what we have. 

us.

I hear a lot of talk about the seven year itch. 

And I'll tell you the truth. I get it. 

All of a sudden, you find yourself STUCK. I think there is something about seven subsequent years of sharing a bed, sharing a roof, sharing your money, your time, your kids, your heart, your pain - that makes you start to realize, 

THIS. THIS. IS. NOT CHANGING. 

doesn't everyone try on their wedding dress seven years later?

You don't have any money, he's there. 

You go through a health crisis, he's there. 

You gain/lose 50 pounds, he's there. 

You start something exciting, he's there. 

And you start to see - whatever comes, kids, blessings, trials, friends, opportunity, loss. 

They are all just the paint on the wall and he is furniture that is nailed down. 

Never leaving.

And I can imagine, that might feel like stuck. 

But I can promise you, it's the best kind of stuck feeling there is in the world. 

He's the closest physical representation I have of Christ and he mirrors Him so well. 

I am stuck with you, babe. 

And it sure doesn't itch. 

my old man.

Love. 
Dude.
Babe. 
Love. 
Man, I love you. 


It's your birthday!
As it stands, as I'm writing this the day before it will post, I have you absolutely zero gifts. I don't even have a box of cake mix standing by or anything. You always make celebrating you so hard because you're so good at sharing. I'm pretty sure you've bought me something for your last sixish birthdays and earlier I heard you tell Elias you'd take him for donuts for your birthday. Though I guess you still get something out of that. 
Anyhow. I'm praying over how to celebrate you today, love. 

Christ in you. You as our family's pastor. You as our leader. 
You, the bathroom cleaner and the car-trip-driver. 
You, the friend that I often find myself doubled over laughing with. 
You, the one who will grab my hand and pray with me over and over again at a moments notice.
You, who sits quietly - maybe even for years, letting His power and truth stir in you until you speak. 

I'm not sure any banner or cake or present could grasp the joy my heart gets from knowing you. And even if I went all out, I know - at the heart of it, you're happier with a cup of coffee and an hour alone with your headphones and bible.


So I'll sit in the tension of that.
Of wanting to give you the moon and a surprise party and a car of balloons when there is probably nothing you'd hate more in the world than a surprise party and some pesky balloons. Even though, to my knowledge, you have nothing against the moon. 

My point is:
I love you. 
More than words. 
More than than moon. 
Which is saying something. 


Happy Birthday, love. 
I pray that this year all the things you've been storing up in your spirit for the last few years spill forth and the Holy One blows us all away. 
Like a million balloons spilling out of a tiny car. 
Amen. 

6th through the tough things

Saturday is Nick and I's sixth anniversary. 
If I don't say it explicitly enough, he is my absolute best friend. 
I think he's the best man in the whole world. 
I think God absolutely gave me an incredible gift in Him. 


BUT since I like this blog to be more real and less trophy case, there is no point in denying that this has been an incredibly hard year for us. Really an incredibly hard set of years, but this one - she's been a doozy. So I thought I'd share with ya'll and with you, nc, six snapshots of how he'd loved me through the hard in the most Christlike way imaginable. 


Nick, 

#1. This first one came early in the sixth year when we were at Edisto on that mini vacation. I think it was the first glimpse either of us had that the Lord might be postponing Boston. Things had been catapulting forward in Seattle and when we arrived on the East Coast, everything moved to a standstill. And we were discouraged. And one morning, you got up early with the kids and swooped one of them up and went out to the porch and just sat. And I knew you were crying out to Him and resigning yourself to His will. And because you did, I could too. 


#2. It makes me laugh to think about it now, how ornery we both were on Christmas day for a million different reasons. Just bickering and not loving each other well. And in the midst of it all, you just said, "stop! this isn't who we are and it isn't what we're going to do." And we didn't. And I think our little family received a lot of joy from that Christmas because of that. 


#3. I'll never forget the day of my half marathon when I called you so upset because I couldn't find you guys cheering for me. And I was being irrational and emotional and you chose to use the sweetest voice ever with me and I could hear the kids screaming in the background and I'm sure it was so hard for you, but spoke so sweetly to me instead of letting me hear the sacrifice you'd made for me to run that thing in your voice. And if you read that incredibly long sentence, that should really be reason #3. 


#4. On the day we found Glory seizing, I've never felt so thankful for you. Thankful that you were screaming and crying to the Lord louder than I was - but in the midst of begging Him for her life, you packed the car, got the boys up and dressed, and arranged childcare. All I could do was hold her and cry, but you could cry out to Him and run the world at once. I think that's the definition of "my better half". 


#5. On the night a few days after we found out we lost Arrow and you found me crying by myself while I watched that stupid movie, you smiled at me so big. And you told me you were proud of me for loving him so hard and missing him so hard. And you said it made you love me more. You were like Christ to me, seeing my absolute weakness and calling it a strength. That meant more to me than I'll ever be able to express. 


#6. This week when I stood at the sink washing dishes (duh, always) and asked you over the phone what you thought about us praying for more victory in Christ, for more freedom, for NOT a hard year. When I expressed that I was so glad He'd met us in all of the hard and that we'd known Him more, but what if we had asked Him for the faith to ask for blessing instead of just healing from more hurt. And you said yes, you wanted to lead us in that kind of faith. And I knew, if our seventh year is the hardest yet - it doesn't matter. 
Because you'll be there and He'll be there. 
And there will be victory. 


I love you Nick. 
Jess

a love story, part 1

A while back someone suggested I write about Nick and I's love story. How we met, fell madly in love, and came to be the iconic couple that we are. (bahahahaha) I thought on it for awhile and decided that while it's a beautiful story to me, it might not be the most readable since you know, we started dating in high school. Our first date story literally includes a high school prank of getting our car covered in toilet paper. And we wrote lots of notes. Like high schoolers do. But maybe since it IS Valentines comin' up, I'll tell you some love stories. I've got lots mulling around in this brain, some about Nick and some about Jesus. Really, all of 'em are about Jesus. And maybe you'll like them, but for sure I'll like writing them. 

I asked Nick what his favorite romantic memories were of our short-life-together-so-far and I'm so glad he picked one of mine: Whidbey Island. I think three of my friends in Seattle just rolled their eyes because they've heard us talk about Whidbey Island so much. It was in 2008, we had just moved out west - literally, we'd only been there about a month. Elias had just turned one and Glory was due in about a month. We'd semi-settled in at New Beginnings, and made a great friend in our assistant, Faith and her fiance Jimmy, and they felt more than capable to take care of Elias and the maternity home for a few nights while we went off for a babymoon.  I was right in the middle of going through a big shift when it came to childcare, and for the first year of Elias' life - I'd worked and felt totally comfortable leaving him with anyone who offered and I was moving into the current stage where I am now, where it's really hard for me to leave my kids for even a few hours. It seemed crazy to leave Elias for a few days when we'd just gotten settled, but I'm so glad Nick pushed me on it because it's one of the sweetest memories I have of us together. 

It was nothing spectacular. I was nine months pregnant and HUGE. We took the ferry over to Whidbey Island, and drove to the little town of Langley. Nick had made reservations at a sweet little Inn, and we had no plans - whatsoever. We went to local restaurants, walked through old bookshops, sat on our porch, and watched movies we'd rented and brought with us. We slept and cuddled and walked and sat. For three whole days. And we loved it. We kept saying, "we've got to always set aside money so we can send Elias and his wife back here" and "no matter where we live later on, let's always come back here" and "ugh, this is our dream vacation". And it was. 

But you know what is so magical and love-storyish about that story? 

When you get married at twenty, you don't know who you are. Shoot, I'm still just figuring out who the Lord made me to be. I'm still at the very beginning of it, it feels like. In fact, for our honeymoon - we went on the exact OPPOSITE vacation. We went to Manhattan and shopped, shopped, shopped, shopped. No shows, no seeing sights, we shopped. That's who we thought we were. This flashy, christian couple with things to offer one another and a bright future ahead of them and the world at our fingertips! 

But it's God's grace that we're not that. And moreover, it's God's grace that He let us be for one another - let our stories and our desires and personalities work together before we even knew they did. We're growing up together and I assume that when we're 36 and 38, instead of 26 and 28, we'll still be growing up together - learning more about who He's made us and who we are. 

I got married at twenty, and that is my beautiful story. Trials and blessings included. But I just want to weep at God's grace that would give me a husband who loves Whidbey Island as much as I do. I didn't have that story of dreaming of my mate, or making a list of all I prayed he'd be. I just met him in high school and thought he was the cutest ever, and most days I'm transported back to that geeky feeling of - "Seriously! Did I seriously marry Nick Connolly?! Hasn't he figured out I'm not cool enough/pretty enough to date him yet?!". But if Nick Connolly in high school had liked cold and blustery islands and reading and listening to sermons as much as he does now, I'm frightened I would have found him boring. And if Jessi in high school liked reading about veganism, infrequent showering, and going to bed at 8pm as much as I do now - I'm certain he would have felt tempted to pass me by. But now Nick's affinity for reading is my fave and I think if you pressed him, he'd tell you that while my morning chipperness is annoying sometimes, he loves that I'm up before the sun (and usually asleep before it goes down at night). 

So here's the moral for today: if you've met your Nick or if you haven't, would you praise God that He loves you enough to give you what you need before you know you need it? Jesus is the real sweet part, the real Valentine pursuing and following and waiting for you to return His affections. I pray that He'd stir our hearts for Him and we'd pour out some love in return - not just for these good gifts that He gives while our backs are turned and our eyes are closed, but that He loves us more than the gifts could ever express.