A Lesson In Solar Energy

I sat on my porch last night in the bitter cold, in the silence, wondering why I felt so yucky. I sat there, wanting to talk to God but not really knowing what to say. I had a million thoughts yet no real thoughts swirling around in my mind. Finally, one thought came into my mind and stuck,

"Why wasn't I a light? That whole week, why wasn't I a light?"

When we moved into this house the one thing that bugged us was how dark the front walk way became at night. For Christmas last year, my grandmother bought Luke some solar powered lights to line our sidewalk (she is oh-so thoughtful...and practical). As I sat there last night I noticed one single light that was still lit. As I watched it fade, I noticed that none of the other solar lights were on. It was late and had been hours since the sun had set. I wondered why that ONE was still burning. Then God told me.

That ONE had spent the most time in the sun.

I had my answer. With no time in the Son, I cannot be a light. I thought about the weeks that led up to our vacation and even the week of. I had spent little to no time in the Son. Is it really that simple? Yes, it is.

Tonight, I went back out onto our porch. None of the lights were shining. It had rained all day today. No time in the sun = no light. Just when our walkway needed it most, on a cold, wet night, those lights were useless because they hadn't spent any time being recharged.

Again, I heard God say; You can be the vessel, equipped to carry the light, but without time in the Son, you will only sit in darkness.

I came in and opened my journal. I had left off at Romans Chapter 8. I began to read and just as He always does, God showed me the answers as to why I felt so yucky, so sinful and so unworthy of His forgiveness.

Paul (the guy who wrote Romans) said basically (this is my own version) that I am continually fighting a battle between my own sinful nature and the God-placed spirit that lives within me. There is NOTHING I can do to deserve to approach the Lord and ask for forgiveness, nothing. However, God chose to forgive me long before my sins ever even came to pass. He did that in the form of His Son, Jesus. If God was willing to sacrifice His only Son for my sins, why was I sitting here, wallowing in my yuck? I'm not worthy to approach Him but He is willing to and ready to forgive.

God himself gave me right standing with Him, it wasn't anything I did. Although I feel so far from Him right now, I am told that nothing, NOTHING can separate me from His love (Chapter 8 v. 31-39). So what was I waiting for? I begged God to forgive me for being so self-righteous and for wallowing in my yuck.

When I looked back at my Bible, I saw Romans Chapter 7. True to His comical nature, I began to read EXACTLY what I have been struggling with. I mean really...if Paul, the author of several books of the Bible felt this way, clearly I'm not THAT abnormal (at least in this regard). Paul says,

"I know that I am rotten through and through so far as my old sinful nature is concerned. No matter which way I turn, I can't make myself do right. I want to, but I can't. When I want to do good, I don't. And when I try not to do wrong, I do it anyway. But if I am doing what I don't want to do, I am not really the one doing it; the sin within me is doing it.

It seems to be a fact of life that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong. I love God's law (here he is speaking of the commandments God gave Moses..I think) with all of my heart. But there is another law at work withing me that is at war with my mind. This law wins the fight and makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. Oh what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord. So you see how it is: In my mind I really want to obey God's law, but because of my sinful nature I am a slave to sin."

~ Romans 7:18-25 (emphasis mine)

Those sinful desires that captivated me during my vacation? Oh! They are right here too..right in my own home where I've built my bubble. They are with me at Wal-mart, when I change diapers, when I'm angry at my kids and when I snap at my husband. They are always there.

You see, I am just like those pesky solar lights. The amount of light I produce is directly related to the amount of time I spend in the Son. In the days leading up to or vacation, my Son time was non-existent. Accompany that with the emotion and trials that presented themselves while we were gone and I was not equipped to shine, much less fight.

Please do not read this as a cop out. I'm not excusing myself or saying that it's okay. But like a very WISE 11th grader recently reminded me, guilt is not of God. This guilt I've been carrying around isn't from Him. It's whispers of lies from the enemy. So, my plan now is to soak up the Son in a way I've never done before. I will pray for endurance because that smelly old sinful nature will find ways to hold me back.

Hopefully, the next time you see me I will be shining brightly....maybe even Son burnt.

Confessions of a Vacation Mom

Okay, so you know how I said here that I planned on spending that driving time reading and memorizing scriptures and catching up on my Bible study book? Well, I must confess, I didn't even crack my Bible open. Well, that's not true either, I did open it on Sunday when we visited my BFF's church. I DID get caught up with my Bible study book, but I don't know that I like it very much. But, that's another post entirely.

Anyway, the point in my confessing is that I feel the need to tell you all that I struggled a lot on vacation. You see, being in my hometown is bittersweet for me. If you read this you will know that my time in high school wasn't great. Being "home" always comes with a level of anxiety for me. Usually, I can tolerate it. However, this year more family drama added to the mix made it just a bit more stressful. Now pour in some hurt and pain from issues with another family member and you have nothing short of a recipe for self-pity pie.

Here at home, in my own environment, snuggly safe in my own world, these things do not pose any threats. I can turn to trusted friends who are also believers, blogs of other believers and even prayer to help me through life's daily struggles. On vacation, those first two were not readily available. And I chose NOT to use the third. Why am I telling you all of this? Why am I exposing myself? Because I feel that you deserve the truth? Not really.

I am blogging this because I feel that saying it outloud, with other people watching will remind me of the real place that I should go to find comfort...Him.

So, I'm telling you that numerous times on our vacation I should have cracked my Bible open or prayed for God's wisdom and peace, but instead I chewed at my fingernails, mumbled under my breath, thought negative thoughts and did things that made my Lord none-too-proud. Rarely, when facing these situations did I stop and pray for peace, mercy or understanding. I just don't get it. I do that at home. Why didn't I there?

Then it hit me. I live in a bubble. I live safe and secure in my own little world. I allow very little negativity in. When it does sneak in, I push it out and wall myself in. I surround myself with believers, people who are uplifting and put myself only in situations that I am prepared to handle. I live in a self-created, virtually impenetrable bubble. I am still sitting here in shock. How did this happen? Why did I do this?

I sit on Sunday mornings and tell the 11th graders in my Sunday school class to live what they know. I sit there and tell them that if they really believe, then others around them will see it and it will be evident. I tell them to go out and take with them all that they know and not to fall victim to the world's deceit.

I am a hypocrite. When faced with the most challenging people in my life I chose to shut down. I did not seek out my Savior. Instead, I dealt with it on my own, I put myself and my own abilities above what I knew to be true. Instead of making a difference or being a light, my bulb burnt out and I chose to leave it that way. I just don't get it. That's not me. Or is it? I still have a lot of discovery to do in this area. I have a lot to pray over, a lot to repent about and a lot of allowing of God to search my heart.

But for now, I ask each of you to forgive me. Forgive me for being self-righteous and arrogant. Forgive me for pretending to know how to deal with the world when I don't have a clue. Forgive me for closing myself into a bubble and squelching out anything that is of conflict. Forgive me for being your Sunday school teacher and wondering why it was so hard for you to "get it" when I didn't even "get it" myself. Clearly, I have so much to learn. I pray for you all to bear with me as the Lord teaches, guides and reprimands me in all that I have to learn.

Vaca Photos for Friday

Glove-less at the NC Arboretum..it was cold!

Putting on a "show" with the help of Mrs. Mandy and Gram B

With Lucy at the Children's Museum...more of these to come!

Ash...rollin' with her homies

Who needs toys when you have flyswats and protective ear wear?

I didn't take as many pictures as I'd like, but I've got a few more that I'm saving all for 1 post (here's a hint and I'll just say, the obsession was perpetuated). You won't see ANY pics of Baby D or Baby Girl because I didn't take ANY that are allowable on my blog. While on my blogging vacation, I totally forgot about you guys (ok, not really) and the need for me to take blog-acceptable pictures of them. Oops!

You will see a runny nose on all of my kids in almost every picture. That's because as we adjusted to the changes in weather we also picked up a nasty old bug and ran fevers on and off for the 2nd half of the trip. Yeah, good stuff. Stay tuned for more to come...oh, and I hope everyone had a fabulous Thanksgiving. I realized a lot on our trip, but mostly, that I have A LOT to be thankful for.

Back From Vaca

We made it back from vacation earlier this evening. It was a long time in the car, but the kids did amazing. I have a lot to share, but it might take me a while to formulate my thoughts. Thanks for the prayers while we traveled. I know that it was only because of those prayers that we were kept safe and the kids endured endless hours of being strapped down.

I'll try to post some pictures tomorrow. Blessings!

If You Need Some Stuff To Pray For...

I don't have a lot to blog about, however my heart is heavy for two families. I'd like to ask you to pray for both of them.

The first are friends of ours whom we go to church with. Jeff had some infection that flared up in his knee almost 2 weeks ago. He has been in the hospital the last several days battling a mysterious fever. Please pray for this sweet family that they would find peace, healing and comfort. In addition, they they have been trying to sell their house that has been on the market for almost 2 years. Can you say stressful?

The next request is for someone whom I've never met, but my heart aches for. Jim and Adrienne adopted their first son from Russia about a year or so ago. This week, they went to meet a brand new baby girl, who they had hoped would be theirs through the birth mother's decision to relinquish rights shortly after birth. Now, birth mother is taking the time to reconsider. Either way, a mother will be heartbroken and have to heal from the hopes of a baby she will never know. Please pray for Adrienne, Jim and the baby's birth mother.

Also, we are leaving in the morning for our vacation. We will be traveling around 2,000 miles in all (there and back). All five kids plus us will be packed into Big Red. And although it has copious amounts of room, the fact still remains that we will be in the car for a LONG, LONG time. Please pray for us to have an uneventful trip and one that is blessed with visits with family and friends.

By the way, Big Red did not need those repairs I mentioned before. Thanks God for working that out for us. Also, we got birth parent permission to take both Baby D and Baby Girl!! Yay God!

I doubt I'll be able to blog while I'm gone, so miss me and have a very, very, very Blessed Thanksgiving.

Skin Deep

Yesterday, the G.A.L. came by and told me that at Baby Girl's first court date (the first one that will determine permanency) will be on November 24th. Guess what? We will be on vacation. I'm so disappointed.

However, she also told me that they will reccommend starting Baby Girl's case with a concurrent plan of reunification with birth mom AND Termination of Parental Rights (TPR). This means, at the end of the next 3 months, which ever plan has had most progress, that's the one they stick with. Since birth mom has only showed up for one visit, I'm guessing TPR will soon follow.

Last night, I told all of this to my Mom and we had a LONG, LONG conversation. Mostly, about us adopting a child of another race. Though this has crossed my mind, and already we have had to deal with some strange stares in public, it seems more real now. I am excited to think that we could have a multi-racial family. However, another part of me is concerned that Baby Girl would feel so obviously different. When we take Baby D out, it isn't obvious that he isn't our son. With Baby Girl, such is not the case.

Her beauty captivates me. I love the way her dark skin looks next to our pale complexions. I love her dark lips and her jet black hair. I love it when she stares at me with her deep, dark eyes. I love the way her head smells. I love how her nose crinkles when she yawns and how she burps like a grown man. My heart is smitten with her and for me, when I look at her, I do not see skin color, but my daughter whom I love so very much.

Now, I want your opinion. I know that God has already placed the love in our hearts for Baby Girl, and we have not even considered NOT adopting her because of her race. This is not a black/white issue. This is not an issue of prejudice.

What I want your opinion on is, if you HAVE children who are of another race (or bi-racial children), or if you are planning on adopting children who are of another race how do you (or will you) deal with the hurtful things other say? I know that they will come, because they already have.

How do you (or will you) discuss with your child, as they grow older, WHY they look different from the rest of the family? I want to have as much knowledge as possible on what it is like to be a multi-racial family. I want to absorb all of the information I can so that when I'm faced with challenging comments or people who are simply hurtful, I will not lash back but respond in love. Should I even be concerned about all of this?

I know God has purposed her into our family for a reason, and that through it all He will show His unfailing love to us all. Thank you for your support and encouragement as we journey down these foreign paths.

Baby Updates and Vacation

Baby D still sees his birth parents twice a week. They are making slow progress in their case plan, however they cannot seem pass a drug screening. We did get permission from them to take him with us on our vacation next week. It frustrates me incredibly that we must ask permission from people who cannot get their act together for their son. On Monday, they canceled the visit because birth dad wasn't feeling well and birth mom was tired. It took everything I had to calm myself down. Seriously?


Until last week Baby Girl had not seen her birth mom except for 15 minutes at the very first visit. She showed up last week only because the social worker told grandma (b/c she's yet to speak with birth mom) that if she didn't show up all other visits would be canceled until court in December. Today, she was a no-show again. Still no word on whether we can take her on vacation or not.

Baby D has been sleeping through the night very well. He usually wakes up about 5:00 or 5:30am to eat, so with the time change it has been 4:00 or 4:30am. Otherwise, he's doing very well. He's just a big, fat, happy baby boy.

Baby Girl still wakes up several times throughout the night. She has been eating about every 3 to 3.5 hours. She HATES being wet or dirty and insists on her diaper being changed immediately. However, she HATES having her diaper changed. Poor girl can't catch a break.

Two Saturdays ago, the wonderful Kassakatis family came over to watch the kiddos while Luke and I had a full day to ourselves. We had no idea what we would do, but we found stuff to fill our time. We did go and see Fireproof. It was a great movie, with a great story, IF you can overlook some mediocre acting. Kirk Cameron and the main woman character were good, even though every time I saw him the theme song from "Growing Pains" flashed through my mind. Oh, I had such a crush on him when I was younger. Anyway, I would highly recommend ANYONE going to see it, married or single.

On Wednesday of next week we will be making the 700+ mile trip to Tenessee/Arkansas to see family. I am excited about seeing everyone but very anxious as to how the driving will play out with all 5 kids. Most likely, my internet access will be limited, which for me will be a good thing and hopefully be a time that I can read, catch up on some scripture memory I've been trying to do and just have a blog free week. My BFF Amanda does have the internet, so I might be able to squeak in a quick update.

Luke took Big Red in today to have it looked at the before the trip and we were told it needed $1,100 worth of work done to the shocks and ball bearings. *Sigh* I've called the dealership and I'm hoping that I can haggle my way into having them do the repairs. Guess we will see.

No Haggle Price

Yesterday went well. Those of you who said you hate to haggled would have been very comfortable on our adventure yesterday. With only Elizabeth in tow, we headed to Charlotte. I had found quite a few vehicles online that I wanted to look at. Most of them were at smaller dealers, and very, very...seasoned.

Once more, we knew we were buying a used car, paying cash only, plus our trade. No financing here.

We visited the first place, and the car was less than promising. I think Luke would have really considered buying it, but I just felt uneasy. They claimed they'd just had $3,500 worth of work done to the van, but random things didn't work like the blinkers. Plus, they had to jump it to get it started. Hummm....

Next, we drove around Charlotte and randomly perused car dealerships. Woo-hoo (say that in your best monotone voice). Nothing. Finally, I had printed off a page for a car about 30 minutes outside of Charlotte. It was a 1995 Dodge Conversion Van and they only wanted $1,350. Off we go.

Because my husband loves to find a deal, I think he was the most excited about this one. However, when we got there, we realized a few, very important things about this "gem."

1. It had no back seat. The guy kept saying he'd bolt one in for us. Creepy.

2. The inside flashed me WAY back to 1985. How a '95 van could look that straight from the 80's I'll never know.

3. The tires didn't match.

Once again, I think Luke was really ready to consider this. However, I knew that we only had a week before our big trip and that was NOT enough time to "fix it up." When the salesman finally referred to it as a "fixer-upper" Luke got the point.

Tired, beaten and ready to call it quits, we loaded up and started home. Just for laughs, we decided to drive by a bigger dealership. You know, the ones with 300 new cars all in the different colors and always claiming to have a "S-A-L-E."

We figured it was a lost cause, but when we saw a nice conversion van sitting out front, we figured why not?

We climb out and begin inspecting this van. It is BY FAR the nicest one we've seen all day. We'd probably driven by 5 or 6 like this one already because we figured they were out of our budget. When the guy came out, I casually asked the price. Naturally, he had to go "check."

Let me just say that as much as I love to haggle, I do hate that salesmen try to act like they are stupid.

When the salesman returned, he told us the car was $7,900. WOWzers. WAY out of our price range. I immediately shut the door to the car and told him such. I mean, why look a something you can't buy? I don't like to torture myself.

Upon realizing that we were gettting in our car, he says,

"So how much are you looking at spending."

Luke says, "Whatever $3,000 plus that (pointing to our minivan) can get us."

The salesman oh so graciously asks us if he can look at our van and "See what he can do."

I turned to Luke smiling and said, "Let the games begin." This is my favorite part.

Luke and I both knew that there was no way they'd sell us that van for the price we could pay, but we played along.

He brought us the first offer, and I told him that it was a no-go. Realizing that I was serious, he said he could "check one more thing."

"You do that", I thought.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth had to go potty. Luke is always her first request for bathroom duty. I have no idea why. While they were in the bathroom, the salesman comes back.

He shows me that paper. Even though it's a terrific deal on the van, it's $1,000 out of our price range. Instead of haggling, I catch myself being brutally honest (a shocker for most of you, I'm sure).

"Look, we've been looking at cars all day. We saw this one on your lot as we drove by and thought we'd check it out. I realize that you are cutting us a great deal, but the truth is, I have $4,000 cash and that van we drove in. With 5 kids at home, I can't go take more money out of the bank, and we don't finance."

The salesman stares at me. Now, let me tell you that this guy is really nice, but he is doing his job. He tells me something about 45-60-90 grace period or something. I figured it meant borrowing money so I didn't really listen. I told him that when my husband returned, I'd show him the paper, but it was out of our budget by $1,000.

He said he had an older conversion van "up on the hill" that he would show us. Out of exhaustion, I said okay.

Luke returned with Elizabeth and we walked outside to find the ugliest thing I've ever seen. Seriously, we'd looked a lot of cars that day. No-backseater van had this one beat. It was terrible.

We shook the salesman's hand and told him thanks but no thanks. As we buckled up Elizabeth, I asked the guy for our car keys (by the way, I LOVE this trick at car dealerships, it always cracks me up).

He goes into get them but instead of coming back out himself, the manager returns.

By this point, we are exhuasted and just ready to leave. I recant everything I told the salesman to the manager. I tell him about the money in my purse and how we know it's a great deal, but it's just too much. He offers financing, we refuse. At last, he says,

"Well, let me have one more person look at your van and see if we can squeeze anything else out of it."

(In my mind, I picture a large juicer (thanks Cathy) squeezing the life out of our minivan.)

Oh me, enough already. Please, just let us leave. As another guy and the manager circle our van (which Elizabeth is buckled into and we are all but sitting in) they retreat back into the dealership.

I look at Luke and we both show the same signs of fatigue. We are SO ready to GO. Mr. Salesman comes back out and stands in front of us. He looks across the parking lot at the conversion van we've been discussing for the last 1.5 hours. He extends his hand and says,

"If you promise to tell everyone where you got a great deal, the van is yours."

Shock, sheer shock I tell you. I just knew we'd never drive off in that van. I still can't believe it.

With $4,000 cash and a minivan worth only about $1,800 (trade in) we got an $8,000 van. I've never loved driving a BIG red beast so much.


Oh, and if you need a new (different) car, I know just the place to send you.

Haggling...My 2nd Favorite Past Time

Today, Luke is off work. A week from tomorrow, we leave for a week long trip through the lovely state of Tennessee (all of it, it's a long state) and onto Arkansas. If you've been reading this blog very long, you know how I LOATHE our minivan. If you haven't been reading (or if you've forgotten) you can click here for a small sample of why.

At any rate, today Luke and I are going vehicle shopping. We have hired a sitter for the big kids, passed Baby Girl off to some friends and we plan on taking Baby D. This should be interesting. I LOVE to haggle prices. Luke HATES confrontation. Oh my, I cannot wait to tell you about our time shopping on used car lots. Because Luke and I do not "believe" in debt, we will be paying cash, plus trading our current heap of junk...er, I mean van.

Our budget is small.Very small, but I know that if it is God's desires for us to move up in the world of vehicles, then we will. We are looking for either a conversion van or a passenger van. I prefer something that I can move around in (so that I can help kids on the long trip), but a passenger van may be more practical since we are most likely NOT done adding to our quiver.

If you're a praying person, please pray that God would lead us to make a wise decision. Also, please pray for mercy on the poor salesman's soul when I..er, WE finally find the one we want. Have I mentioned I LOVE to haggle? Let the games begin.

Need A Laugh?

I know I did today, and GK is just the person to deliver one.

If you are like me and need a chuckle, click here.

Be prepared to shoot snot out of your nose. 'Tis the season (cold and flu).

The Story of Us: Part 10

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9

Because of my obsession with having things even, I had to post a part 10. Okay, okay, I don't really have anything else to add, but I thought I'd go out on a limb and see if anyone had any questions about our story.

I will try to answer them, and I will even allow anonymous commenting.

Don't be offended if I don't answer your question, although I will try to answer all of them that I can, as thoroughly as I can.

So...here goes. Ask away!

**Commenting on this post is now closed. However, if you've read all other 9 parts and have questions or comments, please feel free to email them to me at beaverbunch (at) gmail (dot) com.

Thanks!**

The Story of Us: Part 9

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

One weekend, Luke and I were laying in the bed talking about baby things. Okay, I was talking and he was probably clawing is eyes out. I wasn't even through my first trimester and EVERYTHING was about the baby. As we laid there, I thought to myself,

"We can't do this alone. We can't just raise this baby alone. We need a plan. We need direction. We need something bigger than us."

I was finishing up my first trimester when we went to the new members class at our church. I was still very apprehensive about this whole church thing. I mean, I knew there was a God, but I just didn't think that he cared about me and my day to day life. I figured he was of solving much bigger issues like World Hunger or Cancer. Nonetheless, Luke and I wanted to see what this church was all about. It was a Baptist Church and I had particular issues with the fact that women could not be considered for deacons.

Poor Bob (he's one of the associate pastors at our church), I think I really gave him a hard time. I kept harping and asking questions about why women couldn't be considered deacons and how was that Biblical. I had "came" from a Methodist church where there was a woman minister. Who did these Baptists think they were? Regardless of my attitude, we actually did make some friends that day. Sarah and Luke bonded over the love of mint chocolate chip ice cream and Phil and I bonded over our hatred of such nastiness. They invited us to their newly married Sunday School class. In there, we made even more friends.

Although I still had my guard up, these people seemed normal. They weren't perfect either and most of them were actually a lot like me. I was shocked.

Some Christians have a defining date, a moment that they KNEW that they had met their Savior. I don't have one of those stories. For me, just like with every other relationship I've had, falling in love with my Lord was a process. Slowly, things in me began to change.

I had a hard time letting go of my past, letting go of the dirtiness that plagued my heart. I kept waiting for the proverbial "other shoe" to drop and for God to really let me have it. I cannot pinpoint for you the moment I realized that my God is one that loves me for who I am, despite my countless failures, but the peace that came with that knowledge was overwhelming.

Just days before my second trimester began, Luke and I decided to join Rich Fork. As we walked forward, my heart raced. I didn't fully understand what this meant, but I knew I liked this place and these people. Since Luke had grown up in the church, he had been baptized as a middle schooler. I was baptized at 10, but remembered virtually nothing about it. With our joining the church, I decided to be re-baptized.

With Elizabeth growing inside of me, I publicly declared my belief in Jesus Christ and followed through with baptism. Once more, the change was not instantaneous for me. Slowly, God began working on my heart and our marriage.

I still didn't understand the whole "Christian" thing, and I had several moments of doubt. However, I began to understand what my BFF Amanda had said about a 3 strand cord. That 3rd strand had been missing in our marriage.

In it's absence, dishonesty, mistrust and confusion stood in its place. Now that God was that 3rd strand, the mistrust began to fade. I no longer felt the overwhelming desire to check Luke's email, browse through his call history on his cell phone or look in his car for signs of her. As pain from the past faded, it opened up new possibilities for Luke and me. We could now freely talk about things of the past, things we loved about our childhood, high school years and how we had experienced life. So much of that had been forbidden territory because of the jealousy and hurt that I felt each time our pasts were brought up.

Now, almost 6 years and 5 kids since our wedding day, I cannot imagine my marriage without God as the center. I've come to realize that God is loving and caring and, most of all, my Father. I see that Luke and I NEED God as that center strand, so that we can be held together. I cling to Him with the knowledge that He is the reason my marriage works. Without hesitation, I can say that had I NOT come to a deeper understanding of God and Christ, my marriage would not still exist.

The fear, mistrust and pain that used to burden my heart and from which I carried such baggage, has been taken up by the One who understands all pain. Our marriage isn't perfect, and neither am I. In fact, in writing this story of us, I must be honest in telling you that I have not picked up my Bible in almost 3 weeks. Yes, we still struggle in a lot of areas.

However, our marriage used to be bound by love. I have found that love can fade. Our marriage used to be bound by the physical. One day, the physical WILL fade (sad, but true). Our marriage used to be bound by fear. Fear that if we didn't make it, it would scar us forever. Fear is paralyzing. Now, our marriage is held together by the One who is the strongest binding agent available.

All those times that I desired to be rescued were not in vain. I have been rescued. I have been ransomed. I have been bought at a price. Our marriage has been saved. I love seeing how, each day, God makes our marriage new. He takes the bad, the good and the just plain ugly and weaves it together for His glory. He reveals His miraculous mysteries in ways that I could have never imagined. The contentment I feel within my heart and my marriage is like nothing I've ever felt before. It cannot be of the flesh, it must be of the Spirit.

I am not perfect, I am incredibly and exhaustingly flawed. I deserve to live in continual pain, but because of grace I have been rescued.

On August 3, 2004 we welcomed our first daughter into the world. Then, on May 30, 2006 Lucas and Ashlee joined our family. June 6th of this year our precious Baby D was born and on October 9th, Baby Girl was born.

Although "Our Story" is far from over, this is the point in the game where most of you already know our lives. Somehow, Luke and I manage to keep our marriage first. Above all else I have prayed that God would allow us to preserve our marriage through these hectic years. God continues to show His goodness. He has molded Luke into the wonderful husband and father that I am blessed by daily. And, He's even done some work on me, making me more humble, self-sacrificing and less anxious.

I pray that if you have gleaned nothing else from our story, that you have come to know us a little better. I hope that you have seen that our pasts are far from perfect and our "love story" is anything but a fairy tale. In the years that we have been together we have cried many tears, buried a few loved ones and mostly just grown up. It is my prayer that you will see us for who we are, incredibly flawed, hopelessly imperfect and totally surrendered to a mighty God.

As you read over what I have written to you, you'll be able to see for yourselves into the mystery of Christ. ....The mystery is that people who have never heard of God and those who have heard of him all their lives .... stand on the same ground before God. They get the same offer, same help, same promises in Christ Jesus. The Message is accessible and welcoming to everyone, across the board.

Ephesians 3:4-6, The Message

The Story of Us: Part 8

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7

Our wedding was a blast. All of our friends from college and high school came all the way to North Carolina in a tremendous display of support. Looking back, I think I just sort of expected it. Now I realize just how blessed we were to have so many people who cared about us and our marriage.

During the toasts at the wedding reception, my BFF Amanda said something that struck me. I don't remember it word for word, but she said that if we had God in our marriage it would last forever. She said something about a cord with 3 strands being strong. I brushed it off. I mean, Luke and I had made it through some pretty hard stuff without God. Why in the world would I need him now that we were married?

When we returned from our honeymoon, our friends weren't there. Married life was not what I expected. I was working as a 3rd grade teacher and Luke was traveling North & South Carolina, Georgia and parts of Tennessee. He would usually leave on Monday and return of Friday. I was lonely.

On the weekends, Luke and I had pity parties for ourselves. The only friends we had were my parents' friends. They were great, but they weren't OUR friends. Over the course of 3-4 months we contemplated moving back to Arkansas. Each time we talked about it, my heart would pound. I didn't want to be near her, I couldn't.

Finally, we made some great friends. They were good people and we spent every waking minute with them. We would go out every night of the weekend and life was great. THIS is what married life was all about. However, we didn't have that 3 strand cord.

It was Halloween night 2003. We were out partying, like usual. The night started off great and ended with the separation (and ultimately divorce) of our best friends. I was heartbroken.

That night, after visiting my girlfriend and seeing their emptied out house, I sat on the front steps of our home with Luke. I began to sob. It was the kind of crying where you just can't stop. The kind that rocks you to your inner core. I had never experienced sympathy like this before.

These were good people. They weren't "those" people. They were just like us. Then, it hit me. If they were just like us, what was keeping our marriage alive? What would keep us together?

I turned to Luke and asked him,

"Does this mean we are next? How do we keep this from happening?"

We muddled through the next few days, uncertain about how this could happen to people we loved, how this could happen to people who were good.

Two weeks later, Luke and I were laying in our bed. It was a weekend and I just had the strangest feeling. I got up, went into the bathroom and took a pregnancy test.

"LUKE! Can you come here please?" my trembling voice came from the bathroom.

"Yeah?" he said, walking in.

In disbelief, I pointed to the stick on the counter. "Does that say what I think it says?"

Wide eyed, we both just stood there.

Positive. I was pregnant. I was on the pill and I was pregnant. How does that happen? (I KNOW how it happens, you don't have to tell me.)

I LOST it. I cried and cried and cried.

Luke couldn't wipe that stupid grin off his face.

We were NOT ready to be parents. We had no money (haha, that's funny now), and this was not planned.

As I buried my head and sobbed into my husband's chest, he lovingly rubbed my arms and told me,

"You're going to be a wonderful mother."

Yeah, right.

Over the next few days, I had the worst abdominal pain imaginable. I went to the doctor SURE that I was having a miscarriage. After an ultrasound and lots of reassurance from the doctor, I left, with pictures to prove that I had a healthy baby (read: dot) inside of me.

As I drove home from the doctor, doubt flooded my mind.

"You can't do this. You're not ready. You haven't even been married a year. What if your marriage ends too? Where is your security?"

Then the big one,

"You don't deserve this baby. God will take it from you to repay you for all of the sexual sin you've had. Don't get attached."

For the entire first trimester I held my breath, waiting for something awful to happen. I shared my concerns with Luke, but I think he chalked it up to pregnancy hormones. He did, however, suggest we go to church.

What you may not know about my story is the excessiveness to which I offered my body in almost every previous relationship I'd had. Now that I was pregnant, I just knew God would punish me because of my mistakes. After all, God is a punishing God. He is self-righteous, and judgmental and ready to harshly remind me that I am wrong. He is stern, and coarse and unloving. For God to really love you, you must be one of those churchy people who never messes up. They've never had sex before marriage, they've never drowned their pains with alcohol, they've certainly never lived the life I have lived.

Apprehensive, Luke and I visited several churches in our area. Scared by a few of them (that's a whole post within itself), our last effort was at Rich Fork. We had visited a long time ago, and I wasn't that impressed. But, I figured why not?

We walked in and I knew it was obvious to everyone why we where there. We were the new people, clearly the hugest sinners in town. These people could see through my smile, surely they could judge my past with just a simple glance in my direction.

We took a seat and soon realized that the usual preacher was out sick. On stage was the (then) youth pastor. I wish I could say that the words he said stirred my heart and that day I gave my life to the Lord. Such was not the case. The truth is, the only thing I remember about that Sunday was that he held the microphone on his chin the entire time he spoke. It annoyed the crap out of me.

However, something about these people seemed more normal. We were not asked to stand, so that everyone could see we were new (and in my mind, mock us). We were not later called nor did we have hand written notes in our mailboxes (seriously, one church came to our house). In fact, we just sort of came and blended in.

I had heard preachers tell me that Jesus died for me. I had heard them say that I could be clean. Surely these preachers did not know my past. Certainly they hadn't seen where I had been. However, over time, something in me began to hurt. As the weeks went by, I hurt more and more. It was a hurt I could not explain. A physical and emotional pain beyond anything I had experienced. Now, I know where the hurt was coming from. It was coming from the One who had felt my hurt before, and He was drawing me to Him, begging me to come.

The Story of Us: Part 7

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6

I have never been good at hiding my emotions, especially when I'm angry. This time was no exception. Luke walked in the door, I didn't even get off the couch. Since my back was to the door, he couldn't see the tears streaming down my face.

Cheerfully, he walked over and plopped on the couch beside me, only then realizing that all was not well.

"What's wrong?" he asked me.

How could he ask me that!?! Every time he had been in contact with her, somehow I knew it. I would get this gut feeling and just know. I have had that feeling with nothing else in my life, and I could not explain HOW I knew, I just knew.

This time, I had not felt that. This time, it had taken me by surprise. It felt like someone had hit me in stomach with a baseball bat. All I could do was sit there, and stare at my feet.

Again, he asked me, "What's wrong?"

I finally looked at him, giving him a look that said 1,000 things, none of them were nice.

"She called didn't she?" he half asked, half stated.

I said nothing. I couldn't even look at him. Had he been deceiving me this whole time? Had I fallen for it because I was distracted by our new engagement?

"I promise you I haven't spoken to her," he said.

I stared at my engagement ring, wondering if I should dramatically throw it at him, like I had seen in the movies. All I wanted from him was a sacrifice. I wanted him to sacrifice that relationship for ours.

Luke continued to talk, but I don't remember a lot of what he said. Finally, he got up and walked into his roommates room, where they kept the answering machine. I hear him delete all the messages without listening to them.

I wish I could say that I remember every detail of that night and how we made things better, but I can't. Somehow, only bits and pieces of our story come back to me. Most times, I can remember specific details and other times I can't remember anything. I think my mind blocked out so many hurtful times, so that I could later focus on the good stuff.

I know that I ended up staying that weekend, and we did resolve things. He convinced me that he had, in fact, NOT called her and that she continued to call him even though he was not calling her back.

As my graduation date quickly approached, Luke continued to struggle with his job as a financial adviser. I had told him that when I graduated, I desired to move to North Carolina so that I could be closer to my mom.

Within a matter of weeks, my step-dad had arranged for Luke to be a furniture representative for his furniture manufacturing company. That meant that Luke would need to go ahead and move to North Carolina before the Home Furnishings Market in April.

I was thrilled. This meant, Luke would have a job AND he was leaving Memphis, away from her, away from our past. In April 2002 Luke loaded all of his possessions into his Honda Accord and drove the 700+ miles to North Carolina.

That next month, I graduated from Lyon College, ready to start my life as a wife and teacher. I moved to North Carolina the week after I graduated and we both lived with my parents while searching for a home. Life was good. The past was miles and miles away, he had chosen me. I had won.

One summer afternoon, while looking for teaching jobs on the internet, I decided to check Luke's email. I did this often, unbeknownst to him, because something in me still did not trust. As I opened his inbox, my heart sank once more. There was an email from her.

My hands began to shake and my heart began to pound as I opened it. I can't remember exactly what it said, but she eluded to the fact that they had seen each other just before he left, at a baseball game.

I called Luke into the tiny computer room at my parents' house. I sat back and pointed to the computer.

"What is she talking about?" I asked, angry.

He read the email, then read it again. He told me that he had decided to go to a final (minor league) baseball game before he left. He just so happened to run into her.

I didn't buy it. After much questioning, he confessed that it was a planned meeting. I was finished. I was finished with the lies, finished with the pain.

I can still remember the sound my engagement ring made as it clinked on the glass table top. I took it off and told him,

"As of today, you must choose. You can either have a relationship with her OR you can be married to me. You can't have both. The choice is yours."

I told him is options were to either call off our wedding or to sit, with me there, and write her an email telling her to NEVER contact him again. To tell her that it was because of our marriage that he could not continue a relationship with her.

He sent the email, and with a guarded heart I put my ring back on my finger. From that day on, she has not been an issue in our relationship. However, things were not peaceful.

You see, all my life I had wanted to be rescued. I wanted the dramatic love story (yes, I know our has been quite dramatic) where the guy rescues the girl. I wanted that so much more than I ever knew. I pushed those thoughts out of my mind and looked forward to my dream wedding.

On December 28, 2002 I became a wife. It was a remarkable day, one that I will never forget. But, this is not where our story ends. This is not where it becomes happily ever after. We had a good marriage, but something was missing. I still wanted to be rescued, I still wanted to be won. I had no idea that I would find that redemption through even more heartache.

A few days after we got engaged

Our engagement picture
(I'm working on getting a wedding pic)


On our Honeymoon

Defeated

Well, my guy didn't win. Am I disappointed? Sure. Am I concerned about the future of our country? Definitely.

Am I still proud to be an American? Absolutely.

Although having Barack Obama as our next president scares the bejebbers out of me, last night when I finally clicked off the TV and rolled over to go to sleep, I thought about a few things.

No matter WHO is president...

> My pillow still feels the same.
> My husband still snores and twitches in his sleep.
> My children are still precious.
> My God still reigns.
> My price has been paid.
> My job is to pray.

Did I agree with everything George W. Bush did as president? Crap no! However, I made the choice to disagree with him in the most respectful way I could.

With Obama as our new president, I KNOW that I will not agree with all of his policies. However, I will do my best to be respectful in my disagreements. Nothing irrateted me more than when people said that George Bush was an idiot.

Really? An idiot? Hummm...that doesn't say a lot about the citizens of our country if you truly believe we elected an idiot.

Because I believe America is the best nation on the planet, I will CHOOSE to respect our new leader. Afterall, we elected him. I cast my vote, and it fell within the minority.

From this point forward, my job (among other things) is to pray for our country. My job is to pray for our new president, his wife and his family. My job is to continue to raise our children to love, fear and hope in the Lord.

Although I fear many things with Obama as our next president, my hope does not lie in politics. My hope lies in the One who paid my price, who endures all things and who knows all the days of this earth.

May He have mercy on our country.

Go VOTE!! (UPDATED)

Despite the fact that many Americans cannot agree who would be the best president for our country, the truth remains that we are incredibly blessed to live in a country where we have the opportunity to have our voices heard.

So today, instead of blogging, or having an extended lunch, instead of working late or anything else that might keep you from your polling place today...

stop what you are doing and GO VOTE.

And while you're doing so, praise God that we have been given this privilege, I know I will be.

UPDATE:

Got this in an email today. Hilarious!

The Story of Us: Part 6

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5

Luke came immediately to Jonesboro and arrived at my grandmother's house just after I did. I was nervous about seeing him but also relieved that he was there to provide comfort.

The next day was the visitation. It was September 10th, also Luke's birthday. I felt so guilty that Luke was spending his birthday with my family at a funeral home. He continued to insist that it was okay, and there was no where else he'd rather be. We didn't talk much, we spent a lot of time just sitting together in silence. As my family accepted visitors, my grandmother, aunt and mom endured the majority of the tragedy. They witnessed my uncle's death and my sole role was to be a support for them. Luke was my crutch, ready to catch me when I needed him most.

That night, my family sat around the living room looking at pictures and reminiscing. I looked across the room and saw Luke sitting there, talking to my cousin's husband. I had no idea why he had come. I didn't deserve his support. He had no reason to believe that we would get back together. In fact, I was still dating new guy and he knew it.

As family trickled out the door, headed toward their homes to prepare for the funeral the next day, Luke and I finally got some time alone. We talked, mostly about his new job. We made small talk about volleyball season and my senior year. Finally, he asked me,

"So are we friends now? What is going on with us?"

I didn't know what to say. Seeing him be so selfless and come to my rescue sparked a lot of old feelings. However, in the face of death a lot of feelings get sparked. I didn't want to confuse the two. We decided to just be friends. That night, I slept on the couch downstairs and Luke slept in the guest bedroom.

The next morning, I woke up to the news blaring on the TV. I opened my eyes just in time to see the second airplane crash into the World Trade Center. For our family, it was already a day of mourning. Soon, it would be the same for our country.

We went to the funeral later that morning, unsure of the state of our nation. I was scared, not only because of the hurt my family was facing, but because of the uncertainty of our nation. The funeral and afternoon was a blur. My family watched the news constantly, trying to divert themselves from the reality of my Uncle's passing. All athletic events and classes were canceled for the rest of the week. That meant, I had a few extra days in Jonesboro.

In one of those following days, Luke and I had a serious discussion about our relationship. I told him all the ways he had hurt me and in turn, he told me how I had hurt him as well. Finally, he asked me what it would take for us to be together again.

"Never speak to her again," I said. For me the solution was simple. If she was out of his life, the problem would be solved.

His reply rocked me to my core. "If that is what it takes for us to make it, I will do that for you."

I was so shocked. Never had I ever thought that he would do that for me. I had asked him that so many times and each time he had given me a reason why he could not end it with her. This time was different.

I went back to college and broke it off with new guy. Immediately, Luke and I were making trips back and forth from Batesville to Memphis. I'd go see him, he'd come see me. Things were good. He had finally sacrificed for me, for us. We might actually make it.

On December 2nd, 2001 Luke had plotted and planned and concocted an elaborate scheme with my roommates and friends. That night, at my sorority's weekly meeting, I was knocked off my feet when he presented me with the most beautiful ring I had ever seen.

He proposed and I said yes. Things were going so well. We set the date to be December of 2002. Meanwhile, something began to stir in us. We began reading our Bibles over the phone each night and praying for our future.

I wasn't a Christian, per say. I had been to church and was even baptized when I was 10. However, my life was not like that of a person who followed Christ. Nonetheless, we felt this pull. As our relationships gained strength (more than it had in the 2 years prior) we grew closer. The walls around my heart were being torn down and I was trusting him completely.

One weekend, in the Spring of 2002 I drove over to Memphis to see Luke. We had arranged for me to let myself into his apartment since he would still be at work. As I sat in the living room, watching TV, waiting on him to get home, I was blindsided.

His apartment phone rang. Since his roommate also lived there, I felt it wasn't my place to answer. As the answering machine came on, my heart, once more, dropped into my stomach.

As a familiar voice filled the rooms of his apartment, I glanced down at my engagement ring. It was her. She was calling. I don't remember what she said, but I remember the feeling. It was the feeling I got EVERY time that I heard her name. A few minutes later, I heard Luke's key turning in the door.

I looked at my ring again, wondering if this was the last time I would ever wear it.

Luke's proposal, December 2nd, 2001

Young and In L-O-V-E

The Story of Us: Part 5

Before I continue, I'd just like to remind everyone WHY I'm telling you about how Luke and I came to be. My intention is not to cast stones at anyone nor point fingers. Trust me, I cannot cast stones at anyone because I too need stoning. The purpose is so that I can be as transparent as I know how. So that when you look at us, you will see through to the core of who we are and the center of our marriage. It is only through God's precious grace that I am the woman I am today, married to the most amazing, God centered man on the planet. Our marriage is only what it is because of the One who is our focus. Please do not lose site of that as you read on.

If you're new to The Story of Us, read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4

My hope was that the next year would be a rebuilding year for Luke and me. Instead, it was a year filled with deception, lies and hurt.

Luke had trouble letting go of the relationship with the baby's mother. I would ask if they had spoken and he would tell me, "No" only for me to find out that they had spoken the day before. Still, each time he promised to be honest and that the relationship meant nothing. I guarded myself. A relationship cannot reach full potential when one party is lying and the other is slowly building a wall around her heart.

We floundered through the fall semester with more of the same. They would talk, or see each other, I'd ask about it, he'd lie and I'd discover the truth. It was an endless cycle and one that continued to leave me with fresh wounds. By the spring semester I'd had enough. I don't remember the specific thing that put me over the edge, but I basically told Luke that I was done, really done. We broke up and decided that we should not even attempt friendship. We said we'd go back to being strangers, not even speaking.

Keep in mind that we lived only a sidewalk apart. We saw each other constantly. Finally, Luke broke. He came into my apartment one afternoon. He was headed to baseball practice and didn't have long to talk. He sat on the couch in the living room of my apartment telling me about how much he missed me. None of it really went more than skin deep for me. Then he looks at me (I think I was trying to avoid him by pretending to do homework) and says,

"I just can't do this. I can't pretend I don't know you. I do and see things and I want to share them with you, but I can't. Jessica, I love you."

My heart fell into my stomach and I was speechless. Even today I don't remember what I said after that. Luke got up, left and headed for the field. I sat there, alone in my apartment reeling from the words I had wanted to hear for so long. What did this mean for us?

We decided to give it another try.

Spring of 2001 Luke graduated. He took a job as a financial adviser with a firm in Memphis. It made my skin crawl.

Luke being in Memphis meant that he was closer to her. In fact, he resumed a night shift job working at the same place that she worked. I was furious. How could he do that to me? That summer, instead of returning to North Carolina for the summer, I took a job on campus.

It was a full time position and I dove into my job, caring for summer campers. As Luke and I struggled through more lies and pain, I became close with some of the other counselors. One in particular. He and I would stay awake, talking and listening to music. We would take late night drives off campus. With my new "friend" I had no walls, no reason to mistrust. With him, it was easy. Although I never physically cheated on Luke, my heart was unfaithful. Finally, I decided to break up with Luke once and for all. At that point, it was less about Luke and more about being free to date the other guy.

At the end of the summer, as I was moving out of the dorm where I was a counselor, Luke showed up unexpectedly. I think for him it was a last ditch effort to save our relationship. Although I still cared about him, it was a pretty emotionless encounter for me. The final straw was when I asked Luke when the last time he spoke to her was. When the answer was, "yesterday" it affirmed for me that we were finished. As I watched his car drive away, I was glad to say goodbye to that chapter of my life.

New guy and I dated the entire summer, even after our summer job ended. I came to North Carolina for the last few weeks of summer and pushed all the pain and hurt of my relationship with Luke as far away as possible. I had moved on and started a new relationship. I was happy.

I returned to college in the Fall of 2001 ready to start my senior year. Volleyball was in full swing and my relationship with new guy was going well. Everything was going well until that crisp September morning. The knocking on our apartment door jolted me awake. I opened it to find my volleyball coach. She woke up my roommates and sat me down on that same couch in our apartment. With a heavy heart she said,

"Jessica, I'm so sorry. Your Mom just called me. This morning, your Uncle Vaughn was in an accident. He didn't make it."

Tears began to flow. My heart was so heavy. I packed up my bag to head to Jonesboro. I wondered how I would be strong enough for my family. As I drove the winding roads back home I knew that I would need support too. New guy had never met my family and a funeral was NOT the place. Only one person knew me and my family well enough. I reached into my bag and dug out my phone.

With my voice trembling I said,

"Luke? Hey, it's me. My Uncle Vaughn died this morning. Can you meet me in Jonesboro?"

This time, I needed him.

The Story of Us: Part 4

Read these first:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Wow, you people are pushy. I'm writing this on Friday, but scheduling it to post on Saturday. Now, reach back, take hold and get your undies out of a bunch. ;-)

On with the story...

"Hello?" I said, trying to make my voice stop trembling.

"Hey, it's me. She's not mine." His voice sounded hurt, it was the first time I ever knew of him crying.

"What?" I asked for clarification.

"The baby, she's not mine," he repeated.

Everyone we hung out with had already assumed this because the baby looked bi-racial. However, out of everyone that was around Luke, no one wanted to be the one to say it. I had suspected this for a while now, but how do you tell your boyfriend that you don't think his baby is really his baby? Especially when he so obviously cares about her and her mother.

"I need to see you," he said as his voice continued to quiver.

My heart began to pound. I needed to see him too.

That afternoon he drove the 60 miles to Jonesboro from Memphis. We drove out to the county park so that we could just spend time together. Standing there, not really talking about anything, but wanting to talk about everything, my heart ached for him.

I knew that this new information meant that he and I actually had a shot, but the pain I knew was racing through his heart made my heart break for him. If I ever had to describe Luke in just one word it would have to be, loyal.

As we stood on the shoreline of the small lake, each of us searching for a good skipping rock, I glanced down at him. He was about 50 feet away from me, lost in his thoughts.

"Why do I care so much?" My mind was asking more questions than I could process. Suddenly the answer rushed in.

"You care because you love him."

That day I realized that I loved this man. I had no reason to love him, and I had every reason to walk away. However, that day I understood that love is something that your heart initiates, but your mind chooses to continue. My heart initiated the love for Luke, from then on loving him was a choice I would make.

Knowing what I know now about God and His ways, I can see that it wasn't me talking to myself, but God whispering in my ear.

Luke's continued loyalty manifested itself in every aspect of our relationship then, and continues to be something that makes me fall in love with him over and over again. For serious, if you look up "Loyalty" in the dictionary, it probably has Luke's picture beside it.

Because Luke believed (and still believes) so strongly in commitments, he had NEVER said "I love you" to ANY woman other than his mother. I knew this about him early on and it was something I respected. In fact, in one of our early conversations he told me,

"I plan on only saying 'I love you' to the woman I will spend the rest of my life with. Until I know for sure that she is the one, I will not say it to any girl I date."

Once more, loyalty. Loyalty to his future bride. The only problem was I knew I loved him. Did he know he loved me back? There was only one way to find out.

Before he left that evening, we stood outside of his car still only making small talk. Finally, as I leaned in to kiss him goodnight, I could contain myself no longer.

"I know you probably won't say this back, but....I love you."

He stood there and stared at me. I searched his face hoping to find something to confirm his feelings for me.

Finally, he said, "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

The funny thing is, it wasn't like how you see it in movies where the girl gets hurt and the guys is trying to avoid commitment and be a jerk. He really did mean it. He really was thankful.

After that day, Luke drove back to Memphis and I went to North Carolina for the summer, just like I had every summer since I was 14. We talked on the phone and he even made a trip over to see me. Things were going well and I was continuing to fall for him, harder and harder.

However, Luke still maintained ties with the baby and her mother. Somehow, he felt obligated to continue to care for both of them. As fall quickly approached, it would be Luke's Senior year and my Junior year in college. This would be the year that would test us the most. As he and I grew closer and he continued to see and talk to her, it would put a strain on everything I knew to be true in our relationship. Loving him truly became a choice. And just like with every choice, sometimes you often wonder if you made the right one.

Summer 2000, Luke's 1st trip to North Carolina

The Story of Us: Part 3

Read these first:

Part 1

Part 2

Luke and I start "talking" decided that we are going to take it slow. The NEXT DAY he rides with me back to Jonesboro (my hometown about 1 hour away) and meets my dad. The purpose of the trip was not for him to meet my dad but because it was my little sister's birthday and I was heading home anyway. He accompanied me on my trip.

We were almost back to school when he reaches over and turns off the radio. I'm driving, and he turns and looks at me and says,

"I gotta tell you something, and it may be a deal breaker."

I already knew what he was going to say (small college, remember?), but instead I say,

"Okay..."

"My ex-girlfriend is pregnant" he says, looking out the window, "and it's my baby."

I wish I could say that I had some remarkable reply, but I didn't. All I could muster out was,

"I know."

We drove for a little while in silence. Finally, I said something like,

"You know, we can just see how this goes. I'm not ready for anything serious either."

I don't know who was more relieved, him or me. It must have been on his mind all day because I know I was wondering if he was ever going to bring it up.

Over the next month we dated. That crap about not becoming serious flew out the window and it wasn't until I walked into my room early one December morning that I realized just how much I cared about Luke.

I had spent the night with some of my girlfriends, in their apartment. When I got back to my room early the next morning, I found a note. It said,

"Gone to Memphis. I'm going to be a DADDY! - Luke"

I stood there, in shock, with this note in my hand. I felt hot tears streaming down my cheeks. I crumpled up the note and threw it across the room. I couldn't believe this was really happening. I mean, I knew she was pregnant, but I guess somehow, I didn't see this day coming.

That night was my sorority's semi-formal. Two of Luke's roommates and best friends filled in as my dates in his absence. I thought I could go and drink away the pain I was feeling. Instead, I had a horrible time. I smiled for the cameras, danced and downed anything liquid that was handed to me. However, on the inside I was falling apart.

She had won. She had him. They were forever bound together by this child.

When Luke returned to Lyon he was a new person and our relationship was not the same. We still dated, but now he had this woman that he was in constant contact with. He would call her and ask about the baby and he actually cared. Why couldn't he just be a normal college guy and give up on this girl?

I will never forget the first time I realized that he really cared about her. We were sitting in his apartment and for whatever reason he said,

"Well, I'm gonna go call [First name, Middle name]."

What?!!?

You're gonna call her while I'm here? You are referring to her in an affectionate way, by calling her by her full name?

As he walked into his bedroom, I heard the door click shut. I heard his muffled voice speaking to her. I realized that this was more than I could handle.

Throughout the rest of the Fall and Spring the relationship that Luke and I had would crumble. He'd go to Memphis to see her, I'd cheat on him by kissing another guy. He'd be on the phone with her and I would not speak to him for days. He would talk about her or the baby to another person and I would avoid him the entire week, spending time with other guys in an attempt to make him jealous.

I checked his phone messages and deleted any that were from her. I rummaged through his room when he was gone for baseball trips. Anything that was from her I would comb through, reading every letter, every card and looking at every picture. With each word, each picture and each message the anger inside me welled up.

I was hurt, hurt beyond repair. Finally, I decided I'd had enough. I told Luke we needed to break up. I told him that this was too much for me to handle and I could no longer put myself in this situation.

Even typing about it now, some of those emotions resurface. That "pit of your stomach" hurt, that feeling of sadness. It was all too much for me. We broke up, but because it was a small campus we saw each other...a lot.

I still cared about him immensely, but I knew I could not deal with this other woman. Spring semester ended and I went back to Jonesboro and Luke headed back to Memphis. I was crushed, but I figured it was just another failed relationship.

I will never forget where I stood when I heard my cell phone chirping in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Luke's name on the screen. I took a deep breath and answered. It would be the call that would change our relationship, the call that would give me hope.

For me it was the call that would mean a fresh beginning. For Luke, the call was the most heart-breaking one he'd ever have to make.