Vamos Guate!

Hello all my Wednesday friends. Chavo and I are still in Guatemala. I'm sitting here, jacking the wifi of this internet café, hoping my tablet doesnt die before I can post something.

Unfortunately, I am unable to post a real review of what is going on in our trip, as I am crunched for battery life and we do not have internet where we are staying. Fortunately Though, I have been able to handwrite a lot, so I'll have a lot to post when we return next Wednesday.

What I can say though is that Guatemala needs more prayers than ever. It seems as though while everything is the same as it was, nothing was maintained. The adoption situation is not making progress, and a dangerous politician is gaining in popularity. However, Chavo and I got to spend time in a wonderful ministry with an incredible family, and I look forward to being able to  type that out for all of you.

Until then, keep us and Guatemala in your thoughts and prayers.

See you next Wednesday!

The First Year of Marriage and what you weren't told.

On this day, 3 years ago, the Chavo asked me to be his girlfriend. Now, we are 3 days past our 1- year wedding anniversary. Reaching our 1-year feels a lot like graduating for Chavo and me. We high-fived, we raised our glasses, and we thanked God for all the people that helped us get to this point.

I'm no expert on marriage, but I know something: no one told me what the first year of marriage would be like. No one told me what to do or not to do. The only thing anyone ever told me about that first year is that we would be having tons of sex. Yeah, I said sex. Sue me.

But newsflash: sex is not all you have to deal with in your first year.





I used to watch weddings with tears of joy. Now, I watch them through the cracks of my fingers, nearly screaming "Don't go into the basement! The psycho axe murderer is in there!" But don't get me wrong, a lot of my friends are getting married this summer, and I'm happy for them. I'm not arguing against getting married. On the contrary, I'm fighting for it. Too many people have divorced because no one told them what the first year would be like. People say "The first year is the hardest," but they never say why. Then when you struggle, they're the first ones to say "Well, did you think it was going to be eeeeeeeasy?" The last person that told me that almost got to press charges on me for assaulting them with a box of dishwashing detergent.

However, coming out of this, I'm going to give you a little insight into your first year, and hopefully some ways to help.

What they don't tell you:
- You have to compromise about 20 times more than you were already planning to- About a month after getting married, I started asking Chavo questions about things he preferred or didn't prefer and seeing if I could guess what his preferences were. I guessed correctly almost every time because he prefers exactly the opposite of me.

Chavo takes naps, I drink coffee. Chavo likes going to the gym, I like being outside for exercise. When Chavo drives on long trips, he likes to stop to stretch his legs every hour or so; when I drive, I will nearly pee myself before I stop at a gas station.

One Saturday, Chavo decided that he was tired of going out to the same places. He also had never had Thai food before, so he decided that he wanted to eat at a Thai restaurant for dinner. I had just gotten over the stomach virus and was simply thankful for keeping food INSIDE my body, so I was not up for trying new food, but I did want to go somewhere different, so I suggested a compromise of going to a restaurant we had never been to, but had that type of food before. (Holy run-on sentence, Batman!) This was the response I got.

"We have been compromising all week, I just want to do what I want. It's Saturday, I'm tired of compromising!"
"So you don't have to compromise on Saturdays?"
"No! I should get to do what I want on a Saturday."
"Even if you're dragging me along and I don't want to go?"
"Yeah!"

At that point, I started laughing. It was probably one of the dumbest fights we've ever had. We can laugh about it now, knowing that it was a ridiculous argument, but the fact of the matter was that we were both tired of changing and compromising as much as we were. And for the record, we ate sandwiches that night and didn't talk to each other until the next morning.

- You're going to have to decide who you want to me mad at you.  For someone that never wants people to me mad at her, this was a hard pill to swallow. See, there's this thing called "boundaries" that people don't seem to know about. People will ask you for the most personal, intimate information about your marriage, your sex life, and your family, and it's really none of their flipping business.

Especially sex. For real. People ask the most personal questions, really feeling entitled to an answer. Things like "So, what did you learn about your spouse that you didn't expect in the bedroom?" is the most bonkers question to ask a newlywed. And trust me, if they're dumb enough to ask this question, they are dumb enough to get mad at you when you don't answer it.

As a pretty open and honest girl, it's really hard to put a lock on certain topics. But I had to. I had to learn that some information is none of anyone's business. Even if it's my best friend who would never tell a soul. Some information is only (not best, only) kept between the two of you and a counselor, if you choose to see one. Even my blog is approved by Chavo if I talk about him.

Don't be afraid to hurt feelings of people that ask you these questions. You don't always have to be a butthole, but not telling them what they want to know WILL hurt their feelings. So freaking what? Learn to say, "That's on a need-to-know basis." Someone is going to be mad at you- either the one asking you for information or your spouse. It's up to you to decide which one is more important.

- You will see the ugliest side of yourself very, very fast.  Back in like, month 6, Chavo and I got into a huge fight right before church. To be honest, I don't even remember what we were fighting about. But see, when I fight, I don't run away, I run into it. Chavo tries to walk away, but I won't have it.

So I'm getting dressed for church, following Chavo so he can't escape from me, and so he starts straight-up ignoring me. I got his attention in the only way I could think of.

I started screaming the meanest and ugliest words I could think of. When that didn't work, I threw a stiletto heel. Not at him, but at the door next to me. And it stuck.

When I saw the hole in the door (which looks strikingly like a bullet hole), I absolutely lost it. We both did. Except this time we were both in agreement: I am absolutely bat-crap crazy. Chavo left the apartment and didn't come back until about 7 that evening, and I spent the remainder of the day hating myself. Thank the Lord that we can laugh about the shoe-throwing incident now, but I learned a very important lesson.

The thing is: when you get married, you and your spouse become mirrors for each other. And it's not always in that sexy Justin Timberlike way. You can't hide anything anymore. I could hide my shoe-throwing guanopsychosis because no one had to see it. It's hard to hide who you are when you live and share a bed with someone. It's even harder to hide when you really need help.

I wish I could tell you that there was a way to avoid all of this, but the only way you can avoid this is to not get married. You WILL have to put up with this at some point, but there are ways to help yourself deal with it.

Get thyself to counseling!- Even if your issues are minor, even if you think you can't afford it, it is an incredible help. There are plenty of churches out there with counseling centers, or schools with students who need the internship hours. And for those couples who think they're exempt from this because they had premarital counseling, so did Chavo and I.

Counseling does not mean that you are on the brink of divorce, or that you hate each other. Chavo and I consider our counselor to be an invaluable asset to our marriage.

*gasp* Yep, we have a counselor. And he is helping us establish healthy patterns in our marriage for years to come. I highly suggest getting a counselor to anyone this early. You would rather establish these patterns NOW then have to go back and fix them later.

Find a group of newlyweds- For Chavo and I, this was our newlywed Sunday School class. We tend to speak in hypothetical situations, involving neighbors and friends (see, my neighbor and her husband fight over who has to do dishes), but I like to go in there and mix it up. They know about me throwing the shoe. Not my friend, or my neighbor, me. It also helped them to see that Chavo and I still love each other and are still together, even if we are just as broken as the rest of them.

There will be people in a group like this that pretend that everything is rainbows and sunshine. Be there for these people. They need the most help. People who are led to believe that struggles lead to divorce are the first ones to divorce at the first sight of them. Struggles are more than common, they're a fact of life.

Learn to communicate- Notice I didn't say "learn how to talk". Sometimes, talking is where the problem is. Not all communication is talking, it's actions. Learn what your actions are saying. If you are saying "I am making you a priority" to make your spouse feel better, but your actions say differently, what is your spouse supposed to think?

This tip does not require a lot of explaining. It's pretty self-explanatory.


Anyway, I'm glad that we have this year behind us, and we are praying for all of our friends who just got married or who are getting married soon. I hope some of what I've said here prepares you a little more for the road ahead.

See you next Wednesday, where I will talk a lot about Guatemala. We've been here for 4 days so far, so I'm excited about what I have to share for next week!

I lost my job.

Yep. And I didn't quit. I, for real, lost my job.

It's true, and it's a long story. I'm not going to promise to elaborate on it. When the shock wears off, I'll try to write it all out. Maybe it will be a good pastime for the airplane ride tomorrow (holy crap, I'm leaving the country tomorrow!).

But I'm ok. After everything that they have put me through this year, I'm glad that I don't have to go back. I'm glad that there are certain people I will never see again.

Chavo and I decided that this is also a good time for me to focus on a job that I want. It's hard though. I thought teaching was what I wanted. I worked my butt off to get that job, but now I know that it was wrong. What I got wasn't what I wanted.

I really am ok, though. Just confused.

Holy crap, I wrote a guest post!

Hey everyone, last week Bekka from One Righteous Babe came and taught us about how God doesn't care about suck ups. Well, today, I wrote a guest post for her! Holy canoli! Writing a guest post is hard, because these aren't just my readers, they're a whole new audience. What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm dumb?

But I think you'll like what I have to post there. It will at least make you think, which is really what I want. You can find it riiiiiiiiiight here!


Please go look at it. And better yet, subscribe to her. Bekka is some truth-telling hilarity all on her own. She definitely doesn't disappoint and is always a day-maker whenever she posts. She is the first blogger I've ever met personally, and we are definitely BBFF's, Best Blogging Friends Forever. Whoo! Bekka is definitely my best blogging friend, I love what she has to say and I'm just tickled pink that I got to post for One Righteous Babe.

Check it out, and let me know if it sucks. Or don't... Because I may cry.

Then go read all of her other stuff, and make comments on her stuff. Bloggers love comments, they're like surprises in cereal boxes, except the prize is a BMW and sometimes the cereal box is for Prune Bran O's.

You get it right?

P.S. Chavo and I are leaving for Guatemala on Saturday, and a lot has been going on. A lot of good, but also a lot of scary. I would appreciate your prayers, and I promise to elaborate after this week.

It's a sad day in the Ginger Spice household

We knew that our time together would be short, but we had no idea how short.

 

It's been over a year, but it is time for us to say goodbye.

 

My favorite sandals. You brought me through engagement and my first year of marriage, but alas, it is time for us to part ways. You were the most loyal sandals I have ever owned.

 

These new sandals will never truly replace you, but will serve as a reminder of what it means to be a great sandal. They will have some big shoes to fill..... Wait...

 

 

Goodbye, favorite sandals. May you decorate the feet of angels in heaven.

 

 

I may need to visit a doctor. I'm pretty sure this isn't normal.

 

Guest Blogger: One Righteous Babe

Greetings, everyone. Since yesterday was my last day of teaching classes, today is chock-full of meetings and getting crap out of my classroom, while simultaneously freaking out and getting ready to leave for Guatemala on Saturday for 2 1/2 weeks! So to keep everyone entertained, I have lined up one heck of a guest-blogger. I'll be back next Wednesday, June 12, as planned.

I asked One Righteous Babe if she would be interested in writing a guest post, and she definitely doesn't disappoint. Bekka and I got acquainted after I caught a link to her blog and got to following her on twitter. You can read about the first time she and I got to meet in real life here. She is a wicked-awesome blogger and I thoroughly enjoy reading her stuff. She's got a lot of good stuff to say.

Anyhow, here's One Righteous Babe.

God isn't looking for suck-ups.

When I was a little girl, I tried everything in the world to get my Daddy's attention. I analyzed the man. 

 

(My "over analyzation" of things started at a young age. And yes I know that's not a word because I googled checked it. Learn something new everyday. )

 

I wanted my dad to like me. Respect me. Think I had great ideas. So, I found out everything he liked and remembered it.

Dad's favorite color was blue? I changed my favorite from pink to blue. Dad was a carpenter? I loved to work with wood too. I would sit for hours next to him in his shop and play in the sawdust or hammer nails into a throw away piece of 2x4. At the young age of 6 I learned the difference of a phillips head screw driver and a flat had. I knew the different size of bits. I knew in what drawer of what tool box his favorite hammer with the blue handle was in, and his favorite tape measure.

 

 I had too. I wanted my dad to think I was the best kid ever. The best he'd ever had. I tried really really hard. 

 

But it was never good enough.

Got the right drill bit? I wasn't fast enough in bringing it to him. Got a 95% on my math test? (My dad's favorite subject I might add) It wasn't 100%. 

 

"But Dad!" I would whine, "it's still an A!"  "Yes," he would tell me. "But it's not the right kind of A. You don't apply yourself Bek."

 

I hated to hunt, but would often go hunting just to be with my dad. And me and sitting still? That doesn't work for me.  Neither does camo. Bleh.

I wasn't good at basketball but dammit I sure did try to be because my dad was excellent at it. When I got old enough to cook, I would try to cook my dad's favorite meal. That didn't work out either though. There was always something wrong with it. Tomatoes weren't in season, or I didn't make gravy for the rice or make biscuits or WHATEVER. There was just always something wrong.

 

Then finally finally FINALLY I found the one thing that I thought could get my to participate in my life.  

 

Shotgun. 

 

I learned how to shoot and I learned how to shoot good. 

 

I became the best teenaged girl shotgun shooter for the state of Mississippi for 1 year in the 4-H.

 

 I was fantastic. 

 

Yet, the first time I qualified for State shoot offs was horrible. My trigger finger had started to blister and bleed because the trigger weight on my 12 gauge was very heavy. I flubbed up big time. But hey, I thought. I was the only girl that made it to State in the Shotgun division.  

My dad cussed me out all the way home. That was the first night I ever contemplated suicide. From then on instead of participating in my life, my dad had to be banned from ever coming to watch me. 

I was never never never NEVER good enough for my father. 

So with all that in mind... You can see how I may not have the best relationship with my heavenly father. 

When I was very young, I read that God loved Solomon. God was pleased with him because out of everything in the world that Solomon could have asked God for he asked Him for wisdom.  I thought to myself, "I want God to love me and be pleased with me. I'll ask for wisdom too even though I really really really want a new bike." I prayed for wisdom for years after that day. 

When I was a little older (not too long ago actually) I read that Abraham was God's friend. That's a big deal. I wanted to be God's friend like Abraham was. Abraham listened to God and did what God told him to do. I decided that I would do that too.

All of my life I was never good enough for my father. All of my life I heard and read, and thought that I was not good enough for God. It took me years to separate the fact that God is not my Dad. 

 

Ok well, He is but He isn't.

I thought I had to suck up to God because I sucked up to my dad my whole life. 

 

I don't have to analyze God to figure out how to make Him like me. He already does. I don't have to do anything. I tried everything in the world I could think of to make sure that God loved me without understanding the fact that He already did.  I JUST learned this. I can let it all hang out with God. I don't have to brush my hair and teeth before I pray. I don't have to pray what I think God might like to hear. 

 

(It's not like He doesn't already know what's going on in there anyways.)

 

You can be yourself with God. I've heard that all my life. I thought "Yeah right, He just says that up front, but when He gets home and sits down on His throne He tells all the angels around him about how much of a disappointment I am to Him."

 

I couldn't have been more wrong. You can be yourself with God. It's ok. He doesn't want you to match your favorite color to his. Hell, He made them.  He's not looking for a suck up. 

 

He's just looking for you.