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*before i begin this post, i want to make a promise to you, my dear friend: i will post a photo update about the wedding when i get our photos. i also promise that i am happily married.  now, without further delay, a post about life post-wedding insanity.*

I've started packing boxes with everything inside wrapped in colorful tissue paper.  Why? Because my heart and head were very much held fast by anxiety and fear about moving, organizing, packing...and the Holy Spirit has a way of recapturing the attention that is supposed to be his. 

To be honest, I really only started using tissue paper because I ran out of bubble wrap. Once I was a few minutes into the tissue paper.  A gentle thought crept into my hectic, frazzled mind, "When you unpack, it will almost be like unwrapping presents." Then a quiet moment before the next thought, "How much of your life is a present right now?"

The reality is that so much of my internal monologue lately has been characterized by the words, "have to." Obligation, not liberation, has been my default reason.  How many times have I journaled, blogged, and even pondered this simple truth: perspective matters.  Yet how many times do I forget that truth in its simplicity?

Our kitchen is packed in multi-colored tissue paper.  The list of things that need to be done before we move is ever-growing.  But we have love and grace because God first loved us.  He is the One who has enabled us to move to Missouri this fall, which means He will also allow us to complete every task before us on our way there.  There are no accidents.  There are no trials that come our way by mistake.  Everything is a lesson, a growing pain, a step in a glorious journey.

Perspective matters.

joy

I've been thinking about joy lately.  What does it look like? How do you know someone is feeling it?  Is it a feeling or a state of being or both? Can it co-exist with sorrow, stress, and anxiety? Could someone have the joy of the Lord and not experience it every single moment?

Normally I ask all of these questions, and then I write about what I've learned. This time, I'm still thinking.

I was doing small yoga this morning (that means just a little bit), still wondering about joy, and the only sort of conclusion I've come to is the song my mom used to sing when I was a child.  "The joy of the Lord is my strength. The joy of the Lord is my strength."  Just that one line over and over.

Tanner and I get married in three days.  Maybe it's a bride-zilla thing to say, but the majority of our wedding is not going to look how I began to envision it would in December.  So many last minute decisions need to be made, and I care too much.  My former expectations need so badly to be thrown away, and it's hard work.  But we don't give up, we keep moving forward despite the tears.

I don't know all of the things joy looks like, but I think one of them is strength when things are hard.