Posts (page 2)
Four weeks ago I signed the contract for my dress.
Not just any dress, the dress. My wedding dress. My once-in-a-lifetime huge white sparkly princess wedding dress. (I’d post a photo but I have to keep it secret from you-know-who ;). )
Through the years, I have been wedding dress shopping with many of my friends; I have watched them try on these uniquely large white gowns; I have witnessed each find the one that eventually and finally made them gush and say, “WOW! This is it.”
But until July 2008, it had never been me walking out of the oversized dressing rooms, standing on the raised platforms, twirling in the mirror. And so—I admit—it was a bit surreal, sort of an out-of-body experience. I heard myself uttering comments that my friends had uttered, comments that never made so much sense before.
“How do you know? How are you supposed to choose?”
“It’s a beautiful dress, [insert ‘but…’]”
“Yes, it’s flattering…but all wedding dresses are made to be flattering…”
The comments which now make sense are seemingly nonsensically uttered from women who look more stunningly beautiful than they’ve ever looked in the history of their lives…and yet they’re standing there entirely unconvinced. “How can this be?” I have wondered for years. “How can you not see how incredible you look?!”
But now I know why: These are women who are waiting for the “WOW!”—the dress that, upon the very first glimpse in the mirror, proclaims, “I AM YOUR WEDDING DRESS!”
Perhaps it is a hope bred in young girls read too many fairy tales, I don’t know. But I do know that I too went into the wedding-dress-shopping experience with the same expectation that one dress would stand out above them all.
Some dress choices were easy to axe: bad for my coloring, not the most flattering cut, or way over budget. But many of the dresses really were very pretty. They just weren’t…well, “WOW!”
And so after what must have been—oh,
gosh!—thirty “beautiful, but…” dresses, I confess I began to feel
discouraged. As the kind saleslady
zipped me up for the thirty-first-or-so time, I thought, “Maybe it’s not going
to happen. Maybe there won’t be one that
stands out above the rest. Maybe I will
just have to pick from the ones that I’ve already tried on.”
But then…it happened.
I walked out of the oversized dressing room, caught a glimpse of my reflection, the discouragement instantaneously melting away as I heard myself say, “WOW!” My shopping companions gasped, the saleslady cheered, other shoppers applauded, the heavens parted, the light of God descended upon me, and angels began singing the Hallelujah chorus.
And I smiled, sighed happily, and thought, “There you are at last!”
Even still, as I sat in the shop again a week later, poised to sign the contract committing me to the dress, I needed some encouragement. The kind saleslady gave the best pep talk she could muster, and I joked, “Well, it took me 30 years to commit to a man…one week for a dress is sudden in comparison.”
And that was when—as songwriter David Wilcox says—the metaphor jumped me. For those of us perhaps read too many fairy tales as young girls, it is not just the “WOW!” dress that we are looking out for; it is also the “WOW!” man that we hope and pray to find.
And after 30 (albeit full) years of life, I confess I was beginning to feel a bit discouraged. “Maybe it’s not going to happen,” I thought. “Maybe other people have been right all this time and my expectations are too high. Maybe there won’t be one man who stands out above the rest…”
And then my mind would reel through the men I’ve known in the past. Now some were obviously not at all the one for me, and some were eliminated as possibilities because of their own lack of interest or choice not to pursue, which frankly I could do little about. But there were plenty that I’d been attracted to, that had many good qualities, that—for some reason or another—I chose not to let become more than a friend. Perhaps I’d been too harsh, I’d think, perhaps I should’ve given them more of a chance…
But then, amidst all my wondering and potential regret…it happened. I met him. The man who—with his wit and wisdom and passion and conviction—made me say, “WOW!”
And he continues to make me say, “WOW!” The more I get to know him, the more I am utterly amazed at how much he is everything I ever wanted—much of which I didn’t even realize until I saw it in him. We both marvel at how well-matched we are, at how our life paths and passions and dreams align. And despite what often seemed like a very long time, we are both so glad that we waited, that we held out for the “WOW!”
There were a couple other dresses I really did honestly like. I certainly could’ve been a satisfied bride in either one of them. And I’m sure that other men would’ve made fine husbands. There are many good, solid, respectable men, and perhaps we would’ve had enough in common to get along for a lifetime.
But as the kind saleslady said, “If you could have your very favorite, why would you ever choose your second favorite?”
And so I signed the contract…and went home smiling all over.
Okay, so he's technically my fiance now. But we make do for the alliteration.
Yesterday my dear Patrick's book got a mention on the hugely popular blog site Instapundit.com, and he instantly noticed all the attention he got from it on amazon.com and on his own site.
The blurb:
IN THE MAIL: Patrick Oden's It's a Dance: Moving with the Holy Spirit. The cover letter invokes An Army of Davids, and the back cover reads, "Get a new grasp of the Holy Spirit by listening to this conversation in a pub."
We consider this a huge & timely blessing! If you haven't checked out and/or purchased his book, I highly recommend you do so now. His book had an enormously huge impact on my theology of ministry & of the Holy Spirit, and the effects are still rippling through my life, over a year later!
It also had a huge amount to do with why I fell in love with him.
But that's another story :).
Dear friends,
I hope you all are enjoying your summer, wherever you may be! It's been a long while since I've written an update letter, but big things are afoot, and it's high time I let you know.
Musical News
As
opposed to my 2007, most of my 2008 has been spent off the stage &
out of the coffeehouse, but that's largely because the next project has
been brewing. I'm heading back to the studio in August to begin
recording my next CD: That Holy Night (A Christmas EP) which you will be hearing about more & more in weeks to come. GOD has given me the incredible opportunity to work with Jordan Richter,
a producer in the Portland area who's spent time in Nashville and
worked with many recognizable names in music. I'm so excited about all
that I will learn from the experience, as well as the quality of the
finished product! Stay tuned...:)
Magical News
For
those who haven't already heard, I'm engaged to be married to Patrick
Oden! It seems that I have somehow managed to snag the most wonderful
man on earth (I always suspected he was out there somewhere...;) ) and
we're planning a January 3, 2009, wedding. He's starting a PhD program
at Fuller Theological Seminary in the fall, which means I'll be moving
to Pasadena, CA, after the wedding. The wedding, however, will be in
Canby, OR, and we look forward to seeing many of you there! :)
Check out our newly-posted-and-still-being-created wedding website for answers to the inevitable questions. Thank you to all who've already expressed your congratulations & support!
with much love, 
Amy
"Remember last summer when I asked you what all this darkness was for?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said.
"Well, now that I know, I have a hard time putting it into words myself," I smiled.
It’s been awhile since I’ve written about my car. Well, yeah, okay, I know, so it’s been
awhile since I’ve written about anything.But, anyhow, my car is doing very well. I never updated since the last post on the trauma
of hitting a deer, the possible separation between me & my beloved car, the dilemma of
repairs.Well, a prince of a man from my home group, who doubles as an auto body repair man,
offered to fix it for me at cost, and using used parts. So it was returned to me only $300
later, looking just as it always had. Except I didn’t get the hood painted as I should have,
and now, with the effects of Oregon’s constant precipitation, I have this special two-tone
thing going on, the car a shiny black, and the hood a dulling gray.
But you know, I don’t care so much. Every time I see the hood, I smile and think of the
great Care and Provision in my life. And I’m so grateful to have gotten to keep this car,
as it continues to teach me things. The metaphors continue to jump me.Like the other night, I was going to drive up to Vancouver to see a friend for dinner. That
meant that I’d be driving in the dark on the way back, and I knew that I had a headlight
out and needed to replace it before I left. So I have this very small window of time
between when I get off work and when I promised to be there to buy a replacement bulb
(while also picking up a cake for my sister), go to my sister’s, kiss all four kids, and
change the bulb.
By the time I get to the last step, I have 20 minutes to make a 30 minute drive. So I’m
flustered and hurrying, and go toremove the bulb. Must remove the air duct. The stupid
clip that holds it in place won’t come out, of course. Then I have to fit my hand into a
very narrow space to unscrew the fitting that holds the bulb. I burn the side of my hand
on a still-hot part of the engine, and I scrape up the back of my hand moving it up and
down in the narrow space, more and more aggressively the longer it takes to do what
should be a simple task. Once I get the bulb out, I discover that the one I’d just bought is the wrong bulb.
Fortunately, I had a spare in the glove box. Instead of stopping to consider what that
might mean, as I’m in a hurry, I just get the spare and try to get it in. I get the bulb
properly attached, but now the fitting won’t go in for the life of me. I try and try, still
scraping my hand as it moves in different postures and twists and turns. I cuss. I try
again. I cuss louder. I hope my sister’s neighbors are all indoors.Finally, I get it to stay in place, though it’s still not secure. Twenty minutes has gone
by since I started. My friend is used to me being late. She will not be surprised. But
I’m still irritated. I go to turn on the light to make sure it’s working, only to realize I just
spent 20 minutes on the wrong light.That was the high beam. It was the low beam that was burnt out. It all makes sense
now. It wasn’t the wrong bulb; it was the wrong light.Growling now, I went for the correct light. But—wouldn’t you know?—it came right out,
and then went right back in. I think the whole procedure took around 15 seconds. I
couldn’t believe it. It just clicked right into place.After getting on my way and placing a call to my waiting friend, I began thinking about
my experience with the lights. And that’s when the metaphor jumped me. So often I’ve stubbornly and blindly tried and tried, not looking at the obvious signs along
the way that it was just the wrong thing. Too hurried, too determined to make it work.
And I got burned and scraped up in the process.But when it’s the right thing, it just clicks into place. Almost seems too easy, so you’re
tempted to not believe it. Tempted to go back and re-check, just to make sure. But the light’s on, steady and strong, so there’s just no denying it.
:)
So I made a really good decision this week, which I heartily encourage you to make as well.
I was on the Story People website and I bought something. And when I was checking out, they asked if I wanted to be daily emailed the story of the week. And I said yes!
And I am so glad I did. Now I get a new story EACH DAY.
Here's today's story, for example.
"Church plants are like marriages: Just because you've done four of them doesn't mean you're good at it."
Dear GOD,
Waterfalls were a very good idea.
Love, Amy
P.S. Autumn and Mindy were also very good ideas.
