8 posts tagged “love”

So, apparently I was not as addicted to blogging as I thought. Actually, I have been wanting (aching, even) to sit down and write for the last week and a half, but time keeps escaping me. But tonight I decided I really need to get something written down, so that I can make room in my brain for all the new stuff that inevitably piles up as days go by.

To start, let me say, in case you were wondering or worried, that life is good. Really, truly good. I'm beyond blessed, and I keep on being reminded of that in many ways and through many people. So far this year, I feel like I am beginning a journey of renewal: renewed joy, renewed faith, renewed perspective, and renewed trust...among other things. I've decided to seriously pursue an attitude of peace and positivity, and therefore have begun to reinstate my "life verse" if you will, which is Philippians 2:14 -- "Do everything without complaining or arguing." Really, the whole passage surrounding that verse is great. But a few years back, I was convicted by this verse, and I decided to try to live that out daily, and I managed to make a pretty significant change in my spiritual walk, my relationships and just my general outlook on life. I can't really pinpoint a specific moment when I somehow lost that focus and that desire to be a peacemaker and to quit complaining, but over the last several months I have most certainly noticed myself complaining a LOT more, and being thankful a lot less. So, yes. I'm going to strive toward being a non-complainer again. This doesn't mean I'll stop having a preference or an opinion, just that the way I approach things will (Lord willing) morph into something more productive and pleasant. Joy and perspective kind of go with this topic, and there are other ways I hope to seek renewal in those areas, but trust is the one I'm really feeling a strong pull toward enhancing this year. It's not that I don't trust people...in fact, I think my default with most people I interact with in any sort of personal way is to be very trusting of them. It's when I get really close, or really involved or invested, that trust becomes a little bit scarier. I'm thinking particularly about deepening my sense of trust with Joe, and also reestablishing my trust in God as Provider, Protector, and the one who wants to see me prosper. With Joe: again, it's not a matter of feeling like I can't or don't trust him...I just sense that these next months are going to require a LOT of deliberate, conscious TRUSTING of him as we embark on new areas in our lives and our relationship that are going to bring up a lot of tough stuff. And with God, well, that's kind of self-explanatory, in a way. But I guess I should confess that I've really backpedaled in my relationship with him, particularly in the area of trust. It's almost embarrassing to admit, because he has proven himself as such a loving, providing and protective Father, time and time again, and here I am consistently finding myself thinking, "How am I going to pay off all my debt and loans? What if I'll never figure out my true purpose in life? What if... Why can't I... When will I...?" and all sorts of doubting questions like that. So, in these first 12 days of 2009, I have already begun to feel unmistakably drawn back toward God, and I long to know him again, and to trust him with every aspect of my life.

In other news, Joe and I have gone to the first two of twelve pre-marrieds classes (which are more pre-engagement classes for us, since we're not engaged yet), and it's going well. I am already feeling more confident in our relationship and our ability to overcome some specific conflicts and issues, and at the same time, I am anxious (in both the good and less good sense of the word) about the coming weeks. It's a LOT of new ground we're covering, things we haven't yet addressed or thought of, and things we've even possibly avoided a little which are now going to be impossible to avoid talking about. And that is SO good. I want to write so much more about it, but not in this public forum. So, sorry if this tidbit is not enough for you...but it's all you're getting for the time being. :-)

Anyway, it's been awhile since I've sat with my laptop and typed at length, and I'm remembering how painful it is on my wrists. What a granny! So, I'd better wrap it up and get to sleep. Sorry for being MIA for nearly two weeks, Mom! hehe... I'll try to post more often...

Artichokes: Today we had our department meeting and potluck at work, and it went really well! It was the first big(ish) event I've ever had to organize kind of on my own. I was a little nervous that, like, NO ONE would sign up to bring anything, or no one would show up at all, or a million other ridiculous scenarios that flooded my brain all last week. But we had like 3/4 of our whole department show up (which is a really good turnout), and sooooo much freaking food, we could've invited a whole other department to join us. It was a very enjoyable time, and my crockpot artichoke dip turned out really good! I hadn't done it in the crockpot yet...well, for that matter, I hadn't EVER made ANYTHING in the crockpot. But it's pretty foolproof if you ask me, which is my kinda cooking! :-) I'm thinking of playing around with the recipe to see how I can improve it...maybe I'll do it for my family at Christmas! Anyway, I'm glad the potluck went well, and now we've got tons of leftovers I have to try to get rid of by the end of the day. Anyone for some crawfish etoufee?

Amore: Today is a good day, not only because of the potluck, but also (and especially) because it's my 6-month-iversary of dating Joe! (Yes, we "officially" became boyfriend and girlfriend on Father's Day...just a month after meeting each other on Mother's Day.) I must admit I'm partially giddy just because of the sheer accomplishment of making it to six months, since all of my past relationships have been shorter. But mostly I'm deliriously giddy because I've been able to spend the last HALF A YEAR dating, getting to know, and falling more and more in love with an absolutely incredible guy. Oh, and he loves me too. That's a bonus...hehe. So anyway, I've been smiling all day, and I'm so looking forward to the next six months...six years...six decades with Joe. I make no guarantees about how I'll feel after six decades, though. *wink* So I think tonight we'll head down to LA (we're staying with his parents tonight -- see "Anticipation" for reason) and try to get there early enough to treat ourselves to a nice dinner at Olive Garden, since we both have gift cards to use. (Thanks to Mom and American Express for those!)

Anticipation: The reason we're going down to LA tonight is because TOMORROW...we're going to Disneyland! I'm super excited, even though it's probably going to rain, because not ONLY will I get to go to D-land and have fun with Joe and his family, but I ALSO get to see my long lost bestest friend Ashton! She's in California for a few weeks and we weren't gonna see each other until next week when I'm in the desert, but we found out we're both going to be at Disneyland tomorrow, so that was an exciting surprise. I'm definitely looking forward to that, since I haven't seen her since like...July! And what better place to meet up than Disneyland, right? Saaaah-weeeeet! ("What does MINE say??")

That's all for now.

Tell us how you met your significant other.
Submitted by Luda

Saw the Question of the Day suggestion on Vox's home page and figured since I tell this story about fourteen times a day, I might as well put it in writing. And claim it as NaBloPoMo Day 4, in case I don't get a chance to write anything else today.

This story requires a little bit of background information first, so you don't get too confused. So here we go. First of all, Joe lives in Santa Barbara. Now, prior to meeting each other, Joe and I were already unknowingly associated: he is good friends with my cousin Sarah and her husband Jeff, and having known both of them for over ten years, Joe also knows my uncle Phil and aunt Robyn, Sarah's parents. (Bonus fact: Joe was in Sarah's wedding about four years ago, so we actually crossed paths long before we ever officially met.) Okay, so this past spring, my grandmother was in the hospital in Santa Barbara, under my uncle Phil's care, for some health issues she was going through. My mom really wanted to visit Grandma on Mother's Day, and I offered to go along with her. (At the time, I was living in West Covina.)

A few days before our trip up to Santa Barbara, we found out that my uncle Phil was admitted to the hospital for kidney problems, which was really serious because he had just had both his kidneys removed (less than a year ago) and now had his sister's (my aunt Carol's) second kidney to replace his diseased ones. So for his new kidney to go into possible failure this early on was not good news. Anyway, needless to say, our trip to visit Grandma became a dual-patient visit, and we went to see Phil the same weekend, in the same hospital, on the same floor as my grandma. (Oh, and another bonus fact: Grandma didn't know at that time that Uncle Phil was in the hospital, so we had to be kinda sneaky with our visits and our conversations -- we didn't want to stress Grandma out!)

So that weekend, Mom and I stayed in a hotel halfway between Santa Barbara and Van Nuys, because my cousin Sarah (Phil's daughter and Joe's friend) was going to have her baby dedicated in church on Mother's Day, and Mom wanted to be there for that as well as to visit Grandma and Uncle Phil. We actually visited both of them on Saturday evening first, then went back to the hotel. Sunday morning we drove down to Van Nuys and attended the baby dedication, then immediately hopped in the car to drive back up to Santa Barbara. (Bonus fact #3: Joe was at the dedication, too...but we still didn't meet yet!)

Okay, NOW for the good stuff. Mom and I walk into Uncle Phil's hospital room that Mother's Day afternoon, and there's some guy I've never seen before (except that I totally HAD -- at Sarah's wedding AND that morning at the dedication) in my uncle's room with him, as well as my aunt Robyn. Phil introduces us all, and upon shaking Joe's hand, I can immediately sense that he's a little attracted to me. (And that feels really good, and is a rare thing for me to actually pick up on...) So we're talking a little small-talk, about where I went to school, where he went to school, and that sort of thing. And not five minutes into our conversation, this little exchange goes down, which I will never forget:

Joe: You went to APU? What was your major?
Tabitha: English.
Joe: Are you married?
Tabitha: Uh...no. I'm not married.
Joe: Um, oh, yeah, I mean...I've heard the joke around APU is that whole "ring by spring" deal, so just thought I'd ask.
Tabitha: (*thinking, Nice save, buddy.*) Heh...yeah, I've seen it happen. But it didn't happen for me.

Oh man. You don't even know how funny that was to me. I just loved knowing that Joe was totally into me after just a few minutes of talking, and that he got right to the point and made sure I wasn't taken.

The whole time talking to Joe, I was very careful not to say anything flirty or even too nice, because I was pretty dead set on NOT getting into any relationships at that time and didn't want to lead him on. So I think I was distracted by my own protective wall that I didn't really allow myself to consider Joe in any romantic fashion. I treated it like a casual, completely platonic conversation, with the knowledge in the back of my head that HE was thinking a little more than that... Anyway, we talked for just a few more minutes, and then Mom and I had to head out. So we said goodbye, nice to meet you, yada yada, and we left. And my mom and I weren't thirty feet down the hall before I said, "I think he's in love with me." Of course I was mostly joking, and definitely exaggerating, but I could tell he might be interested, and my first thought was, Crap! I'm not looking for a relationship right now! Why does this ALWAYS happen to me?

I tried to put Joe out of my mind, but somehow I knew I would hear from him again. And lo and behold, Sarah told me just a day or two later that she had talked with Joe and he asked her if he could have my number or email so we could talk some more. I thought about just saying no, but I didn't want to be rude, and I also thought, Well, it couldn't hurt to talk to him a little, and just be very honest about where I stand so I don't lead him on... Heh. Newsflash! You talk to a guy, he's into you, and it doesn't matter how clearly you say, "I'm not looking for anything." If you're talking to him, he thinks there is a chance. And lucky for Joe (and really, lucky for me), he was right.

We started talking online pretty much every day, for hours on end, and I really enjoyed getting to know him. I was completely up front with him, saying that I didn't want him to get the wrong impression and I couldn't promise anything more than just friendship. He was very patient with me. But as our conversations continued and he knew that we both knew we were "clicking," he boldly asked me if I still felt like there would only ever be friendship between us. And I was stubborn. For about five minutes. I tried to stick to my guns, tell him I really, really didn't want to start anything right now, and he just said, "Okay, but my question is, are you completely sure that there could NEVER be anything romantic between us? Because honestly, I don't need another 'just friend'." Ouch. I had to make a choice: keep sticking to my stupid guns even though I was thoroughly enjoying talking to this guy, or give him a chance. Or rather, let him know that I might someday consider giving him a chance. That's more or less what I said, because I couldn't just throw down my guns all at once, ya know?

Rrrrright. Man, thinking back on this now and putting it in writing is making me realize how ridiculous I was, and also how persistent Joe had to be to break down my silly stubbornness. So anyway, we had talked a bunch about going swing dancing, and he asked if I'd be willing to go with him one weekend. He would drive down from Santa Barbara to the LA area where I lived, pick me up, take me to dinner and then dancing. I agreed, but I couldn't just cave in (even mentally) and concede that it was a "date." So I asked if I could bring my roommate and her boyfriend along. She really did want to go swing dancing! And Joe, being his ever-patient and also ever-straightforward self, said, "You do realize this is a date, right?" Basically his way of saying, "Don't be stupid, stupid. I want to take you out, and I want it to be just the two of us."

And here comes my lowest point in this pre-dating saga. I almost got out of the whole date altogether, ON THE DAY OF THE DATE. I told Joe I was really sore because I had just joined 24 Hour Fitness, with a personal trainer, and he was really working me hard. In my defense, it was totally true. My neck was sore, my legs and arms were cramped, and the thought of dancing -- especially swing dancing, which I hadn't really tried before -- was not very appealing to me that day. But Joe was still persistent (thank goodness!) and said, "Well, I can just take you out to dinner and we'll go from there, see how you feel." And alas...he finally wore me down. And I started pounding some extra strength Tylenol so I could get through the evening (dancing or not) without hobbling around like a freak of nature...or more accurately, a big fat wuss who was already feeling like death after just one or two training sessions.

To get this story wrapped up before I go on for another thousand pages, I'll just tell you that the first date was awesome. We did end up going dancing, but lucky for me, I showed a little persistency of my own and persuaded Joe to take me line dancing at my favorite place instead. And after that night, he had pretty much worn me down to the point that "just friendship" was a distant memory, and I wanted to see him again. As soon as possible. So we went out again two days later, to a Scottish festival. Joe picked me up...wearing a kilt...AND we spent the entire day with his parents, his brother John, and John's girlfriend Kelly.

Second date, people! My second date with Joe was ALSO with his entire family. And it was only two days after our FIRST date. I'd say Joe is one smoooooooth guy, wouldn't you? Needless to say, we hit it off. We started dating, got serious, I went to Romania, came home and interviewed for a job in Santa Barbara, moved a couple weeks later, and here I am today, Mrs. Joe...okay, that last part isn't true. Yet. But while I've known him for just under six months, and we've been dating "officially" for just under five, I can tell you with confidence and gladness that I am in love with him. Totally, helplessly, painfully and ecstatically in love with him. And judging from Joe's success in the face of my obstinacy from day one, I'd say it's only a matter of time. (Now it's my turn to be patient...)

And that is how I met Joe.

So, I came across this site called National Blog Posting Month (nablopomo) and I thought it was a pretty cool concept. It's basically just a challenge to post every day for a full month. And, as if I don't have enough going on on any given day, I signed up and am going to try to tackle this challenge. I don't think I can win any prize or what-not this month, since I didn't start on November 1st. But what the hey...I love to write, and I love having an excuse to do it every day...even if it's some silly online blogging network taunting me, daring me to try.

My former roommate Jessica is getting married in a few weeks. And my current housemate Danielle recently got engaged. I've got a pretty funny story about the latter...

A couple of weeks ago, I was arriving home from a run with Joe down at the city college track, and I had also stopped by the grocery store after the run to pick up a few things. Needless to say, I was all disheveled, sweaty and probably notably stinky. I walked into our living room with my hands full of groceries, my gym bag and purse hanging off my shoulder, and a great big sigh of relief that the day was finally over. Then I saw the rose petals. Now, when you walk into our house, you're in the living room, and you can see all the way down the hallway -- Danielle's room on the left, Sarah's at the end, and mine on the right. I visibly followed the path of the rose petals and saw that they emerged from Danielle's room and led out into the dining room area, which is on the left after you walk through the living room. Okay, they're not for me, I thought, somewhat relieved only because I couldn't imagine getting proposed to in my current disastrous (read: gross and sweaty) state. I knew that the moment I walked into the dining room, I would disrupt whatever special moment was happening, but I didn't really have much choice unless I just went back out the front door and left my groceries to rot while I awkwardly sought some other task to occupy myself until it seemed safe to go back inside. And so...I went in. And there was Danielle and her boyfriend Ryan (who, by that time, was already her fiance, but I didn't know that), all dressed up, sitting down to a candlelit dinner, and Danielle was on the verge of tears. Fortunately, Ryan's face let me know that they were happy tears, since his mouth stretched in a literally ear-to-ear grin. So I smiled and said, "Don't let me interrupt!" and tried to mask my curiosity and excitement at the realization that something special was going down this very moment, whatever it may be. Danielle and Ryan both assured me that I wasn't interrupting (sweet, but total bull...lol), and Danielle said, "I guess you get to be the first to hear the official news...AND see the ring!" And, being a girl, I squealed, giggled and fawned momentarily over the news and Danielle's beautiful ring. And then I excused myself, saying, "I'm so happy for you two! Now pretend I'm invisible cuz I don't want to detract from your special evening!"

A moderately awkward situation, but fortunately the lovebirds were very understanding, and welcomed me into their special moment long enough to satisfy my curiosity and silly, girly excitement.

Anyway, as for my former roommate Jessica and her  true-love-story-in-the-making, I am happy to announce that I get to be one of her bridesmaids! I feel like most every other girl I know has been a bridesmaid at least three or four times in her life, so it's no big thing, right? But this is my second time! So I'm still really stoked about it. The first time I got to be a bridesmaid was for my older brother's wedding, almost two years ago now. It was such a blast...and this time, I'll be in a wedding where a ton of my old college friends will be there, rather than my entire extended family, so it'll be a totally different dynamic. Not to mention the fact that I get to bring my very own real-life, legit DATE for once! I mean yeah...at my brother's wedding I "technically" had a date...but it was mostly just an agreement to dance with the guy so we both wouldn't feel like total losers. THIS time, I have Joe. My wonderful boyfriend and maybe-someday-something-more. And I'm excited about that.

Until next time...which, Lord willing, will be tomorrow. Tune in for Day 2 of my NaBloPoMo journey. Who knows what the new day will bring?

...No, seriously. Do you know? Cuz I don't have the faintest clue.

So here is the little "speech" thing that I presented at a Presbyterian Women's meeting yesterday about my recent trip to Romania. It went pretty well, although I'm pretty certain that NO ONE expected the little "twist" in the middle, since I was supposed to be talking about my mission trip. But the title they gave me to work with was "To Romania with Love" so it just sort of happened this way. Anyway, here it is for your enjoyment. Kind of a glimpse into my slightly more "formal" writing style, if there is such a thing in my style repetoire. Or if I even HAVE a style repetoire.

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"To Romania with Love"

I fell in love my sophomore year of college. It was better than love at first sight – it was love at first thought. The first time I heard the name, I was fascinated. Hopeful. Intrigued. Drawn to it in a way I couldn’t explain or even fully understand. I sought out all kinds of information about this love interest before I ever set foot in its presence. And with each new fact I learned, every unique characteristic, all the history and stories about my newfound love, I felt more and more as if our connection had always existed, since the day I was born, though it lay dormant for the first twenty years of my life. I memorized songs of praise in anticipation of being able to share them with my love upon our first encounter. And finally, in May of 2005, I traveled across the world to meet my love…Romania.

To some, the story of how I came to love Romania might seem random or happenstance. I had a roommate my first year in college who invited me to audition for the women’s choir for the following year, and she mentioned that their spring tour was going to be international. I had traveled to Brazil when I was sixteen, and the thought of getting another opportunity to go overseas was instantly appealing to me. To be honest, my first inclination was to do it for the mere chance to see more of the world. But although I auditioned for choir fairly impulsively, I knew that my acceptance was no coincidence. The first day of the fall semester, when our choir director began to explain some of the details of our upcoming tour to Romania, it was like a piece of my heart came alive that had been inactive up until then. I immediately began pursuing new knowledge about the country, its people, and the language. We were learning several Romanian songs, and I put my full efforts into getting the pronunciation down…then I wanted to learn what the words actually meant. So, by the time we boarded the plane in May, I had developed a very basic Romanian vocabulary – enough to at least have an introductory conversation and express my happiness to be there. Over the course of the school year prior to the trip, I also learned about Romania’s history with Communism. My heart was burdened by all the pain and oppression, but at the same time I felt an excitement for Romania’s future, knowing that they had begun to break free of the cruel dictatorship of the late Ceauşescu, and they were slowly establishing themselves as a free and democratic country.

And now, just three years later, so much more has progressed in their development! Romanians are regaining a sense of pride for their culture, and their economic stability has greatly improved since my first visit in 2005. But there is still so much opportunity for growth and change. There are so many children living without homes or families, some on the streets, some in fairly decent institutions or orphanages, and some in dirty, cramped facilities where their caregivers steal from them and neglect them. The Christian Church in Romania has flourished a lot over the last several years, but they are still in the process of learning how to utilize their freedom to express joy in Christ. It is always surprising to me when I walk into a Romanian church and am greeted with smiles and excitement, yet once the service starts, faces become very stoic, and there is rarely any laughter, clapping or any other expression of joy. Church is still very traditional, legalistic and structured…which is not necessarily bad, but I only wish for each believer to be able to experience the kind of unrestrained worship I see so much in American churches. There were a few times in the Romanian services when I saw faces responding emotionally to our singing, or to a sermon or during prayer. I loved that – seeing what the hearts of the Romanians really look like. They do have a great joy and passion for the Lord, but they are unsure how to “appropriately” express it in a church setting.

Although my three trips to Romania were missions-oriented, with goals including encouraging the Church, reaching out to children and elderly, and sharing the Gospel throughout each endeavor, I think I felt more the recipient of blessing than the giver. For example, one thing I’ve consistently experienced each of the three times I’ve been to Romania is the selfless hospitality of my hosts. No matter whether I was staying with a young family or an elderly couple, whether poor or fairly well-off, in city or rural areas – not once was I hosted by someone who didn’t sacrifice much of their own comforts and limited resources to make me feel at home with them.

Yes, I have a deep love for the Romanian people and am always eager to express that love in whatever way I know how – whether it’s through singing, leading a Bible lesson at a kids’ camp, taking bread to the poor widows, or just sharing a meal with a church family. But each time I go to Romania, thinking I have plenty of something to offer to them, I am humbled by my utter insufficiency and instead thank God for allowing me to offer what little I have. Then, upon returning home and reflecting on how God moved during that particular trip, I realize that all the love I brought with me to give away was in turn poured right back over me tenfold! And I think that’s exactly God’s plan all along when people go on mission trips. Something I’ve noticed in my own personal experience is this: the point at which I feel the least capable of making a significant impact on my own and then let out a big sigh and say, “God, I need You to step in, here,” is exactly the point at which all those unexpected blessings come rushing over me and, in this renewal of hope and purpose, my real ministry can take place. It’s difficult to be humbled to the point of realizing that nothing we do of our own will is going to be effective; that unless our efforts are carried out with the perfect love of God,  no amount of training, preparation or planning will be enough to reach the hearts of people in need. And on the other side of that, though it can at times be frustrating, it’s good to know that even when we aren’t fully prepared or equipped to do the ministry we’ve planned to do, God can (and does!) still use us.

For example, last summer in Romania, I was asked to demonstrate the cleansing of sin to a group of 13-year-old girls, none of whom knew Christ at the time. I was nowhere near prepared for my task, so in a slight state of panic I paused and asked God to work through me in whatever jumbled, disconnected babble I could spit out. During my tear-filled demonstration, I covered my hands with mud to represent sin and then washed it away with pure water to represent God’s forgiveness and Christ’s sacrifice. But I don’t remember a single word I said for those fifteen or so minutes; all I remember is being extremely affected by the very concept I was explaining – that Christ took upon himself all of my dirty, rotten sins and gave me new life – and after that, I remember our Romanian translator asking the girls if they understood, and if they wanted to have their muddy sins washed away by Jesus’ love…and every single girl in that room accepted Christ that day. Can you imagine? I was speechless. I was in awe…and not of some personal accomplishment, but of God’s generosity in allowing me to be a part of this radical transformation of lives.

So what can I tell you about this year’s trip to Romania? I admit I didn’t really have another experience as spiritually significant as leading twelve girls to Christ. In a lot of ways, this summer’s trip was just another choir tour; going from church to church to sing and worship with God’s people in various places. And that’s not a bad thing at all. But I think because my first two trips had such a deep impact in my life, I expected this third one to be yet another incredible, life-changing time, and at first I felt gypped. I wondered why I was being deprived of my revelation, my epiphany.  What had I done wrong? But after about the first week there, God began to open my eyes to something that was different: I was way too me-focused this time. Always expecting something amazing, not in the sense of expecting God to move because He’s great, but expecting because somehow I deserved something amazing. So upon coming to this gradual realization, I just surrendered my expectations to God. I asked forgiveness for my selfishness, and I expressed that my deepest desire was to bring glory to God, and if that was all I did, with no great life change, and no great impact on someone else, it would be enough.

And do you want to know what happened soon after that? It was something completely and totally unexpected, something I almost feel silly for mentioning since I’m talking about a mission trip. But the most significant thing that God did in my life on this summer’s trip to Romania was remind me that real love is possible. That I could learn to love someone with my whole heart, selflessly and completely, and that someone could love me the same way. See, I went to Romania and left behind a guy who had grown to be very special to me in a pretty short amount of time. And normally, being away for three weeks from someone you’re in a brand new phase of life with is something to be dreaded. But, though I didn’t ever say it out loud, I almost welcomed the time apart from my boyfriend Joe. It wasn’t that I didn’t really like him that much, or that I didn’t want to be with him – quite the opposite. The thing is, I’ve always kept myself at a distance emotionally in relationships, because I didn’t know how to allow someone to love me completely; I didn’t feel deserving, I guess, because I didn’t know how to give love correctly. So, on the night before I left for Romania, when Joe told me for the first time that he loved me, I was instinctively ready to bolt…especially because of how strongly I felt for him. It was really scary!

Anyway, one night about a week into the trip, we were singing a song with its text straight from 1 Corinthians 13, and I felt God speaking straight to me as I sang: He said, “Tabitha, this is love. This is the way Joe wants to love you, and it is the way you can and should strive to love him. Let your heart be open, and I will bless you both.” And in that moment, as I sang from my heart the words, “Love is patient, love is kind…it is not self-seeking, not easily angered, always trusting, always hoping…” I got so excited! I suddenly began to feel God empowering me to try this real love thing – and even bigger than that, I felt ready to let myself be loved.

So…yes, my sophomore year of college, I fell in love with the country of Romania. But in the summer of 2008, while I was in Romania, I fell in love with a man.

There were other demonstrations of love during this summer’s trip, like the love of an elderly woman for her daughter despite the fact that her daughter had written her off without regard for all of the provisions her mother had given her over the years; and the love of Mihaela, who works for a foundation that gives bread to poor women each week, and never stops encouraging these women, even the most bitter and miserable ones who are angry at God and ready to give up. I could spend hours and hours telling you stories from each of my three trips to Romania…but it seemed most appropriate, given the theme “To Romania with Love,” to finish my talk by sharing with you, a group of women who have probably all been deeply in love, the real beginning of my very own true love story.

We have finally arrived in Lugoj, where we will stay with the same host families for the remainder of our trip. This means we don't have to lug our baggage around from place to place, and we can actually do some laundry, get to know our hosts, and just feel a little bit "settled" for awhile. I'm really thankful for all of those things. And I'm especially thankful because our host home is a) GORGEOUS, b) internet-equipped, and c) really close to the church where we will meet every morning to set off on the day's events and adventures. Tomorrow's call time is 7:30 at the church...bleh. You'd think I'd be in bed by now, right? But I'm not really tired, and I've got the computer in my room (which I have all to myself), so I let the other girls on before they went to bed and now it's my turn. :) Plus, I'm feeling update-y. Yay!

I've been thinking a lot during this trip about love. I've thought about how hard it is to really, genuinely express love to someone. Not just verbally (though I have plenty of trouble with that, too), but by actions. And even by thoughts. One of our songs is taken right out of 1 Corinthians 13, and the other night when we were singing it, I really let the words sink in. I wondered, "Could I love someone like this? Have I ever loved anyone like this, even for a minute?" Let me remind you of the passage:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

It's really quite intense. Without love, I am nothing -- even if I can fathom ALL mysteries and ALL knowledge, and if I have a faith that can MOVE MOUNTAINS...if I don't have love, none of it means anything. Okay then...what is love? Patient. Kind. Not envious. Not boasting, proud, or rude. Not self-seeking. Not easily angered. Keeping no record of wrongs. Not delighting in evil. Rejoicing with the truth. Protecting. Trusting. Hoping. Always persevering. Never failing. I'm really not certain I can say I have ever loved this completely. I seem to always fail or fall short in at least one of these areas. Usually it's either that I'm self-seeking, or not trusting, or giving up rather than persevering through hard times. Sometimes I'm envious. Sometimes (especially with family) I'm all too easily angered.

Anyway, during this particular night, singing this particular song, my thoughts were not so morbid as they may seem now. I found myself instead thinking about how exciting it would be to begin to try to love someone like this. Actually deciding, specifically and determinedly, to attempt this kind of unfailing love. What an adventure!

And if you know me...you know that this is a huge step. I mean, I'm a very loving person. I am generally pretty likable, and easy to get along with, and not especially selfish or rude, most of the time. I am also very reserved, and I have a lot of walls. In my writing, I don't really keep those walls up...which is why, if you've ready any of my other journals online, you probably know me quite a bit better than I'd ever let you in person. (It's also why I love to write so much, because I feel that release of all the stuff I can't seem to let out in relational interactions.) So...as of late (like, the last month or so), I have begun to experience -- actually without really intending to -- the vulnerability of letting down some of my walls. I'm opening up to someone more easily than I ever used to, and I'm finding myself feeling much fuller...more complete, and more comfortable in my own "me-ness"...if you will. Rather than feeling the dreaded sense of weakness or rejection that I seemed to equate with becoming vulnerable, I feel strong. I feel confident in who I am, shortcomings, quirks and all. And I feel ready to try this real love thing. Even bigger than that...I feel ready to let myself be loved.

Okay, so I know this post doesn't have much of anything to do with the tour in Romania. But you couldn't have expected me to go three whole weeks without writing a regular-ish Tabitha post, could you?

So anyway...those are my thoughts tonight. Take them or leave them...it's me. And I'm pretty happy with that right about now.