A Look Back

Last week I celebrated 1 year of being in Texas and working in the corporate office. I don't think I will ever be able to explain everything that this past year has been for us, but I'm going to break down a few major milestones: 

Marriage: In the past year I have traveled just as much as I've actually been in Texas. Ryan and I knew when I took the position that it would be travel intensive, but in my excitement to grow and move forward I naively underestimated the toll that a travel based job can have on a marriage, or any relationship. It's hard. And while I don't believe that a woman has to be the homemaker while the man works in a marriage, I now firmly believe that a wife having the travel job brings a whole different dynamic to a marriage than when a husband is the traveler. My husband has been amazing. He has been my rock, holding down the home while I'm on the road, doing all the laundry and most of the meals, and never complaining that I'm gone or making me feel guilty for uprooting us to move somewhere new and then being gone for half the time. He has done nothing but encourage and nurture me. No matter where our lives go from here, I will forever be in awe of this man I married. He shows me every day what it is to put yourself aside and the other person first. 

Work: It has been one of the hardest lessons I've learned, but I'm finally starting to separate my identity from my job. I will be a workaholic if I have the opportunity, especially in an industry like coffee, where your colleagues become your family. It's so easy for these lives to blend together, and while it's wonderful at first because you have love everything in your life, the lines quickly become so blurred that you never feel at home and have trouble focusing on anything. I don't know if I explained that well, but that's what happened with me. A mistake at work immediately feels like a failure in life, and an issue at home prevents me from doing well at work. Boundaries are eliminated, sleep disappears and it all takes a toll on the relationships in my life. Like most people, I want to do work that matters. I want to do well in my job. I want to make the world better. But when I start defining myself by standards placed on me by outside forces, and by myself, my world crumbles. I'm learning to leave work at work. To turn my Blackberry off before I enter my home, or even leave it in the car. It seems like a small thing, but it is a way of mentally keeping that world out of my home, and equally, keeping that stress from infiltrating my home. Some people are able to do this without something silly like hiding a Blackberry, but I'm not. And that has to be okay with me. 

Myself: Tying in with both my marriage and my work, this has been a huge year of learning grace. Ryan never complained about us moving to Texas, but in the midst of all my travel and work I was wracked with guilt that I had uprooted us. He had a much harder time adjusting than I did, and I didn't know how to fix that while I was gone all the time. And while I was learning a new job, on a much larger scale than I had ever experienced, there was no room for failure in my mind. I think this is normal for most people- no one wants to fail, but the issue comes with your definition of failure. My definition of failure quickly became anything other than perfection, and when you're, say, learning how to make a budget on the scale of 70 cafes, this is impossible. So I learn to breathe through the anxiety, do the best I can, ask so many questions and admit when I have messed something up. It's hard, it hurts, and it is my least favorite thing. But it's making a difference in every area of my life. 

Family: I miss my family more than I can express. I hate that I'm missing out on Josiah's wee-ball games, or Stella saying her first words, or my name-to-soon-be-revealed-niece's birth. I remember growing up far away from aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents, and I never liked it. So I'm also learning to take time off and take deliberate vacations, planned very far in advance. 26 days. 

This year has forever changed my life, and my marriage, just as I suspected it would. I just never expected how everything would change. I'm pretty excited to see what the next year has in store. 

May!?

Can you believe it is already May? Of 2013? I'm still blown away by it. So much has happened in the past year. Ryan and I moved to Texas, we celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary, Ryan turned 25(!) and in two short weeks we'll have another niece. Life is moving fast. So fast that it makes me nervous, as much as I love it.

This short little blip of a blog post is just to ask for prayers (from whoever reads this) for my little family as we face big decisions together. We pray for wisdom and rely on the reassurance of constant grace.

Community (also what will probably be the longest blog post ever....sorry!)

I've been so looking forward to blogging about my trip to Boston, but after the tragedy of the past week I just haven't been able to bring myself to do it until now. 

A few of you know that last weekend I had the pleasure to go to Boston for the annual Specialty Coffee Association of America expo. Needless to say, I've been looking forward to this all year. I've had a love affair with Boston since I was in high school, but to be able to go back specifically for coffee? I can't even begin to tell you how full my heart was on our way there. To make our trip as productive as possible, my coworker and I made a couple stops on our way to Massachusetts to visit a few stores we don't get to see often (Kentucky being one of them), and you would not believe the amount of issues we had traveling. Out of 7 flights we had that week, 5 were delayed and 1 was completely rescheduled. It was slightly a nightmare, but we were so excited to make it to Boston that we took it all in stride. Alright, I may have been a little grouchy after being stuck in the Chicago airport for 7 hours-- but who wouldn't be? We finally made our final (delayed) flight from Chicago to Boston on Thursday, and I was so excited I could barely handle sitting still on the plane for 2 hours. Minutes into the flight it became apparent that we were flying with a majority of marathoners. Once we arrived at our hotel, we also realized that we were with mostly marathon runners and a few coffee people.

I am not a runner. I despise it. I hate myself 2 minutes in when I realize how out of shape I am, and then spend the next 2 days being as lazy and unhealthy as possible. It's really just better for me to be a walker. But I have immense respect for people who run; many of my friends are dedicated runners. For them it is a love of their life. It is something that helps them in more ways than physical health. It's how they release stress, process information and make decisions. It's a huge part of their lives. You couldn't speak with the marathoners in Boston without catching their contagious excitement and joy. Hearing the news on Monday about the bombings broke my heart. Domestic and foreign terrorism is always heart wrenching, and I'm certainly not saying that my heart doesn't break for the countless other shootings and bombings that have taken place. But having just come back from Boston the day before, after meeting all these wonderful people, and knowing that I still had friends in Boston, this event weighed so heavy on my heart. I cannot imagine all the lives changed on Monday, and the countless people living in Boston who had their lives disrupted this week as they lived in fear. I thank God that the people in my life made it out safely, but I still cry for those that didn't. It was a very sad and eye opening end to our otherwise wonderful weekend. 

But despite the horror of the bombs, it also reaffirmed what I was in Boston for. Coffee always has and always will be about community for me. Learning all the fun information about coffee is simply a plus. I started working in a local coffee shop the summer of my 16th birthday, and a month later my world was rocked by a personal traumatic event. The community built in that little coffee shop I worked in, with a bunch of college students that I revered and admire to this day, was healing for me that year. I believe that is what coffee culture is built for. For community, for healing, for growth. That is what this weekend was for me. We worked during the days, walking the show, talking to potential vendors about new products in the coffee world and meeting with current vendors, and we enjoyed our friends and bonded in the evenings. We grabbed drinks with our coffee friends and put our professional relationships on the back burner to catch up on our lives. We talked about work and life change, relationships and family, church and growth. After the homesickness I've been pushing off for months, it was just healing for my heart. I can't explain to you how my relationships with so many different people grew that weekend. It was such a reminder for why I am in this profession, and it came at a time when I was getting wrapped up in the work and frustrated with everything. In the midst of terror, the people of Boston came together and took care of each other. Their community is stronger than ever. People are good, God shined through the fear and I believe people are being forever changed for the better. 

(insert segue into shallow, fun details about my Boston weekend....)

Something I absolutely love about Boston is how multicultural it is every time I visit. Add to that the many, many people in town for the marathon and the coffee show, and a majority of the conversations I heard that weekend weren't even in English (or we just couldn't tell because we are so not used to awesome New England accents). I also love all the history packed into that city. We were lucky in that we got to decide out schedules and plans every day, and many of our plans included the rich history of Boston. We were able to go to a game at Fenway (Red Sox!), eat at the Union Oyster House (the oldest continuously operating restaurant in the United States) and simply walk the city. Oh, and we went to Cheers. Which was wonderful. Other than our final night in Boston, I hands down will tell you that the Red Sox game was my favorite event of the weekend. If you haven't gone to a ball game up north and watched a bunch of New England-ers get flat out drunk during a baseball game, I would daresay you have not really experienced baseball. We made many new friends that night.

My travel schedule for the next month is completely full, but none of them will be as fun, eye opening or life affirming as my Boston trip (like when I go to Wyoming on Monday...what's in Wyoming you ask? Rocks.). Thank you, God, for this job and community. 

Insomnia

There's nothing quite like waking up at midnight with an epiphany that you did something wrong at work. 3 days ago. Which is irreversible at this point, but still something that is bound to haunt me for at least another hour. So a blog update it is!

Our lives are getting busier and more stressful every week, but I think this may be Ryan and I finally adjusting to adulthood. Work, bills, sleep, a date night, repeat. I cannot imagine how crazy it will get when we put kids in the mix. 

This week I'm heading to Boston for the Specialty Coffee Association of American show. On the way over we're making a stop in Tennessee and Kentucky, and I'm a bit ecstatic to see my family. I know I just saw them in May, but I'm a little horrible at living far away. After that we have our large corporate training week, where we bring in all of our potential store managers to get a feel for how things run in the office, get more detailed training and put faces to names. It's one of my favorite things about this company. After that I think I'm traveling every week until my VACATION in June. You read that right, blog readers. I'm taking a vacation. I even booked my tickets already. We'll ignore the fact that it took me nearly a month to work up the nerve to request time off from my new boss (which he accepted within 2 minutes) and just be thrilled that I already did it. I'm sure the panic attacks of not being in the office will start any day now, but it will be so worth it to spend real time with friends and family and meet my new niece. The only bummer is that Ryan can't come with me because of his new job. 

I grow more and more thankful every day for the new friends that it is evident God has thrown in front of me, as well as the amazing church we found. We still don't feel at home in Texas, but it gets better every week. I write this because I know that after being in Kentucky this week I'll go through a pouty phase and will need to reread this and remind myself. I do that. Not weird, right? 

I'll have so much to blog about when I return from our adventures on Boston, and if you're lucky I'll throw in some pictures....

Moving through the muck.

This week was hard, for both Ryan and me. The surprising part is, this week shouldn't have been hard. Great things happened in the last 7 days. For instance:

After 9 months of loneliness and the inability to shake the feeling of being "unsettled", we found a church that feels like home. It's a satellite church plant, and we're in love with them. After 3 months of disappointing job searches and unfruitful interviews (and an unexpected transition off of nicotine), Ryan not only got a job, but had 2 offers. Seeing the positive and uplifting change in my husband is remarkable. After 8 months of-- admittedly, prideful and selfish--frustrations with my job, I was finally given all the responsibility I've been itching for. And after 10 months of reconnecting in our marriage, Ryan and I both have recently been developing healthy relationships with friends outside of our home, which everyone needs. In fact, I have a girls shopping date tomorrow.  

And yet, this week was just plain hard. 

I spent the beginning of this week in New Mexico, doing a group training session for 8 baristas and members of management. I wasn't necessarily excited to drive 8 hours to New Mexico alone, but I was ecstatic to finally be in a cafe training again. Training is my favorite. And yet, most everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. Disengaged employees with no interest in learning, managers convinced that they had better things to be doing, and my nervous energy were a terrible mix. It was possibly the most discouraged I've ever felt as a trainer, which has been a core of my life for the past 2 years. 

I spent the rest of the week trying to catch up on office work (all the new responsibility I talked about), getting ready for a meeting with our Board of Directors and a semi-annual "goal setting" event we have with our executives. As well as juggling my cafes, learning vendor relations and trying to mend office relationships I fear I've broken. This responsibility that my pride has been demanding just might be my undoing. 

In the midst of all of it, Ryan and I have both been severely oppressed with feelings of homesickness. Pictures of nieces and nephews, growing up too fast, and stories of friends' parties and events that we've been missing have been weighing heavy on our heart. So heavy that many nights have been spent in silence or tears, neither of us wanting to talk about it but neither of us able to ignore it. We miss our community and our support. We hate feeling like we're missing out on being part of these important lives. 

I can't help but be both encouraged and frustrated by a theme of "loneliness" right now. I recently reread Blue Like Jazz. I try to read it at least once a year, and I always grow from it in a different way. Donald Miller speaks a lot about loneliness in this book, and about how unhealthy it is. He describes how selfish a person can become with they are alone for too long, and how growing comfortable with being alone can affect you in all aspects of your life. I swear, he was speaking straight to me. I've grown far too comfortable with being by myself over the past 9 months, to the point where I secretly prefer it. I crave it. Being in community with people exhausts me, and the thought of going somewhere and meeting new people makes me much more anxious and nervous than it used to. It's unhealthy. It's unhealthy to avoid challenging yourself and forcing yourself to grow. We were meant to live in community, and it's not supposed to be easy. The more we live in community, the more we're forced to focus on the people around us rather than ourselves, and I've lost sight of this ever since moving to Texas. See both the frustration and encouragement?

It's okay to miss home. It's okay to miss our families. But it's wrong for us to stop our lives, thinking that we left them in Kentucky and will return to them eventually. This is the truth we struggle with. This is a period of growth, and growth is difficult. The only way to fight loneliness is to press into God and move into community. 

I firmly believe we were supposed to move here. I don't think it's for forever, and it may not even be for much longer, but I believe God wants to do great things in our lives. I also firmly believe that this past week has been an attack of the enemy on Ryan and I as individuals and as a couple, and I'm ashamed to say that's not something I'm prone to admit. I don't know why, but I'm encouraged to know that we're in this together. I have an amazing, Godly man who encourages me.

Sometimes you have to fight through the muck and find God in the midst of it all. Like in a new friendship that results in a much needed girls afternoon. And a wonderful husband who delivers milkshakes to make a crappy Friday just a little better. And wonderful cousin-friends who recommend challenging and provoking books when I need them the most. 

And then sometimes you just have to listen to good music and let go. 

The Head and the Heart

If you haven't listened to them yet, I don't know what you're doing with your life. I'm wearing out their first album, but it never gets old. It's the kind of music that makes me feel like I'm singing from my soul. Take a listen.

Since last posting about grace, I got my first tattoo (I know, it took me a little long to post about it). Don't let people fool you with their tattoo stories: Foot tattoos hurt like hell. I'm a wuss when it comes to pain, and I'm proud to say I didn't cry or shout, but it was painful. But so worth it. "Unforced rhythms of Grace" represents a wish of mine, because grace currently feels everything but unforced. One day. :)

The past couple weeks have been a little chaotic. Some shake ups at work, paired with me being in the office more than normal have made me feel weary. But I cherish the time I get to spend home with Ryan.

This week I went with 2 coworkers to a job fair down at WTAMU, and got the chance to speak with many different students about school and the company. I was blessed with the opportunity to speak with one particular girl who couldn't have been more than a year younger than myself, but was asking about one of our salaried positions. The more I spoke with her the more she opened up about her upcoming wedding and how she was scared for her and her future husband because he would still be in school and she would be supporting them. I think too many people who get married at my age are convinced that they both have to have everything in perfect order or it's all going to fall apart. By no means was it easy to get married as young as Ryan and I did, and I know everything would have been much easier if we both had been graduated from college and pulling down good salaries together- but we made it without all that. I think it just takes a little more conscious effort. It was just a blessing to get to talk to her about it, in the middle of an event I was at for work. I'm thankful I have such a people-centric job.

Hopefully it won't be another 6 months before I write again. Look for upcoming posts about my Boston trip in April!

Grace

When you never give anyone a chance to show you grace, how do you ever learn the meaning of it?

I think that growing up in a full time ministry family affects your ability to really grasp Christianity and the essence of Christ's love. Sometimes I'm even cynical enough to believe it may hinder it all together. I'm sure some children who grew up in Christian homes would argue that this cannot only be limited to children of pastoral families, but I don't have that reference point. And others may say that we use this as a cop out and that it didn't affect them negatively, so maybe it's just me. But even so, at the age of 22 I'm realizing that not only do I not understand grace in even it's most basic form, I also reject it when it's offered to me, despite having grown up in a family and culture where grace is the basis of our lives.

My whole life has been built on achievement, in being the best in my group. In elementary and middle school it was about being the quickest to learn something- reading or math- and the best at it. In high school these achievements continued, and then others were added. President of clubs, earning solos in choir, making Homecoming court. In college the achievements turned to work- figuring out what I wanted to do and then climbing the ladder as quickly as possible.

I came by this need to achieve honestly. I have always been a perfectionist and an over achiever, and it's a dangerous place. It's a world full of anxiety and fear- a world where one mistake, whether noticed by others or not, can rip your world apart. It results in insomnia, anxiety attacks and depression. It can break a marriage. It feels impossible to fight off, but how do you fight it off, when everywhere you turn you are rewarded and praised for your "perfect" tendencies and your hard work? It quickly turns into a vicious cycle of seeking approval, needing approval and entering a tailspin without it.

Grace is something I desperately long for. I long to give grace and live a gracious, grace filled life; loving people until the know they don't have to earn it. But how can you show that without accepting it yourself? How can I preach grace when every time I misstep or don't perform to my highest potential, I become defensive and reject all help offered? They are completely contradictory.

Being broken in order to learn the importance and the gift of grace might be one of the most painful things I've experienced, and I don't know if it will ever end. It's a process of learning to love myself when I feel I've messed up. It's learning to ask for help. It's the constant check to keep down the wall of defense that rises in my heart every time I sense disappointment or disapproval. It's hard. And since the first week of January I've met at least one message of grace from God every day. Whispers of love, of gentle correction, and of self realization.

So, when I never give people the chance to extend me grace, how am I ever showing them grace in return? And if I'm never allowing myself the opportunity to fail, have I ever really managed to accept God's grace? This grace He so freely offers that I see in so many women I admire? That I so very desperately long to feel? That I so long to give?

2013 is my year of Grace.