Our Story ~ Letter to Little

Well, now we come to the part of the story I don't know how to tell.  In five, ten, fifteen years my sincerest prayer is that we can point to the altar we built during this time and declare in confidence the LORD brought us through a really dark time and grew us while we were in it. The blessings have outweighed the pain.

Dear Little One,

Sometimes life is more difficult than we let on and in trying to hold our life together by ourselves we cause more hurt and brokenness - to ourselves and sometimes to others. In those broken times our mind wanders and in the worst of times can lead us off the narrow path. 

What I want you to know is you can never stray too far from the power of grace. This is what your papa and I learned this summer. While we can't change what happened and though it may continue to haunt us and those who were hurt, this I know: God will make something from these ashes.  

We need people in our lives. To share our joys and sorrows and to hold us accountable. I hope you always feel the love we have for you and the love of the people who will surround you feel. 

We love you and are so excited to meet you.

Love,
Mama 

***I think I started writing this a year ago, but still didn't know where to go with it. A year later I think this suffices.***

Our Story: Part III

Continuing our story... Read Part 1 and Part II by clicking the links.

That year long engagement was a whirlwind of activity. The prince was involved in every activity from setting the date, picking out the cardstock for the DIY invitations, deciding on the color scheme, and choosing flowers. He even attended a Bridal Expo! The princess knew she was very lucky.

As months turned to weeks and then windled down to days, the two became more committed to one another and more excited about their life together.

The September 8, 2007 wedding was a beautiful evening affair. Amongst candlelight, the two pledged their lives to one another among their dearest family and friends. They committed fidelity through better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health 'til death do them part them "and even then will I love you."

In those early months the princess knew more love and laughter than she ever imagined possible. The two grew together as individuals, as a couple, and in their faith. They truly believed the "honeymoon period" would never end as each day they found themselves more in love than the previous.

****

But, in life, as in fairytales, good things do come to an end, at least for a time. In the fall of 2009, Duke Depression started weaseling his way into their happy home. By the following June it became obvious the princess was not experiencing an unusually long bout of seasonal affect depressive disorder (SADD), but was in "big D depression."  The winter of 2010 was the darkest the two ever went through as the Duke held the princess in his grasp.

The knights and ladies of the Monday Night Posse circled around the two, surrounding them with physical, emotional, and spiritual support. The nearly two years that followed would have been much darker, and maybe had a sadder ending, without them.

While the Duke held the princess captive, the prince set about managing life for the both of them - cleaning the house, making meals, paying the bills - while attending school and working full-time. His caretaking was so appreciated by the princess who considered getting out of bed and going to work a victory.

***

With the loving support of family and friends, counseling, severing unhealthy relationships, and an 18-month dose of Lord Zoloft, the princess began to reclaim her life bit by bit. By April 2012 she could confidently say she felt like herself and she fearlessly kicked the Duke to the curb.  

Reunited, the prince and princess celebrated their victory, became excited about hopes and dreams they thought lost for a time, and looked forward to their brighter future with the same unbridled enthusiasm they had entered their union.

The two didn't realize they were merely in an intermission and a bigger story was still playing out. Soon life would take another unexpected turn.

The Power of Stories: Part II

Lately I've spent a lot of time thinking about how we tell our stories, especially the less than glamorous ones. Do we hide them and let them own us or do we shape them as a part of us that we are learning/benefiting from? As we are currently in the midst of a shameful part of our story and are not of one mind on how to proceed, I've started thinking about what this season of our lives will look like five or ten years from now. Right now the emotions are raw and uninhibited. In time I know I'll see this with different eyes. How will the story be told then? This is the story I hope to tell my children...

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Ocean Beach, a princess met a wonderful prince. The two became fast friends and after some time realized there could be more meant for them than friendship. After a few months of courting long distance, the prince took a leap of faith, quit his job, and relocated to the wonderful land of Oregon to be nearer to his princess.

Those were wonderful days! The two shared a passion for the outdoors, exploring book stores, and were active in their church. They made new friends, became really good at badmitton, and enjoyed many road trips together. The time the princess spent in Spain studying only increased their fondness for one another, and when she returned the prince knew this was the woman he wanted to spend his life with.

So, on September 7 he gathered their two best friends and sent them on a mission while he was at worship team practice. Of the princess, he requested a picnic dinner for after practice. By time practice was over, the princess was not up to a late night picnic dinner, but the prince sweetly convinced her and she really was hungry after all.

Once they pulled into Mt. Tabor Park, a place they had long enjoyed walking around, the prince asked if the princess would like to be blindfolded. This was an age-old joke between the two, so she relented to his silly games by allowing him to throw his hoodie over her head and then lead her through the park.

They stopped near the summit, and when the princess removed the hood she thought the mountain was on fire. As her eyes adjusted she found her princes on bended knee with a beautiful ring. The "fire" was actually candles arranged in a heart shape around their picnic blanket.

She said yes.

~To Be Continued~

The Power of Stories: Part I

It's the eve of my fifth anniversary. This Friday, September 7 is so very different than that one in 2007 I remember so fondly. The one where I was surrounded by family and friends, wrapping up wedding details and celebrating another milestone - my Aunt Pam's 50th birthday. Above all, I was looking forward to committing the rest of my life to a man who had so unexpectedly come into my life three years prior and for whom I was so utterly and completely head over heels for.

Five years isn't such an extraordinarly long time in the grand scheme of life, but it is a major milestone. We have endured nearly every aspect of our vows with grace, thanksgiving, and sometimes a lot of self-sacrifice. In this new season of our marriage I can reflect on the day we took our vows with such promise, and a healthy dose of naivete, and recognize a pledge taken in faith sometimes means you're agreeing to stay true through things you couldn't ever have imagined. I think if someone had told me that then instead of a month ago I may have run in the other direction. It is probably for the best we can't see every trial our relationship will face "til death do {us} part."

I am becoming the family storyteller. The keeper of the stories of our family's trials and triumphs. Some of the stories are hard to hear and some are inspiring or just plain silly. I believe it is so important to pass those stories on, even the ugly ones, so the next generation knows they are not alone and others have gone before them and come through stronger. Those are the stories I so desperately need to hear while I am writing this difficult part of my own story. 

There is power and freedom in being an active participant in your story. Sometimes things happen that you would rather not share, but most times those things you don't want to share end up having power over you. When you tell your story you take control of it. The stories of better times hold us together when we're going through the muck and remind us where we've come from and when we reach the other side of it we can point to that time and say, "We did that, we made it."

It's our stories that can bind us or tear us apart. They are also the legacy we leave for the next generation. It doesn't do any good to keep them locked up.

Redemption

The last month has been a whirlwind of emotions. It has been a proving ground for my faith and values. It has been uncomfortable, painful, exhausting, and trying. In coming face to face with a nightmare I have seen what my values are really made of

As my support system has split into factions around the issue I have been able to hold my head up and keep pushing through with a sense of peace I've never known. Yes, fear of the unknown is there. Yes, my plans have been trashed. Yes, my life is upside down and inside out and none of it is fair or my fault. Yes, my heart is bruised and broken. Yet despite all the discomfort and pain, the knowledge that it is all out of my hands and at the close - however far into the future that ends up being - the Bentleys will be stronger for having endured.

In the time I've spent meditating on and practicing grace I have begun to wrestle with the question of redemption and restoration. I believe redemption is always possible, and out of that comes restoration, but in my humanness I don't always want to believe it's available to everyone. The beauty of the gift is I don't get to pick and choose who "qualifies" for redemption. I am comforted that not one of us is ever too far beyond the reach of grace and there is always hope for restoration if we're willing to do the dirty work. Redemption and restoration is dirty work.

Lord, help me stand by my relationships even in the yuck and see the work through to completion. May You make something beautiful from these ashes. 

Beauty from the Muck

My world got rocked this week. I'm in shock and am more or less in damage control mode. We will survive this because that is what I want, but we're going to have to wade through a lot of shit before we get to the other side. The image of the lotus has been at the forefront of my mind the last couple days.

I've always thought the lotus was a neat flower. Recently a friend was having a rough year and she shared with me the story of the lotus. The lotus is unique because, as Confucian scholar Zhou Dunyi wrote, "I love the lotus because while growing from mud, it is unstained." It rises above its environment, it controls itself, and it is truly a beautiful flower.

Life is often a series of muck and yuck. I so want to rise above it and remain unstained. Lord, that I might have the strength to suffer well and come out the other side unstained and victorious.

*****

"Yet the beauty of His grace is only highlighted and magnified by our sin, and all the more beautiful for it!  And I can't help but think that the result of redemption and grace is all the more beautiful and appreciated than the perfectly created original." Beautiful words from a dear friend.

Ladies & Gentlemen, May I Have Your Attention...

I would like to direct you to my "Blog Reads" on the right. Go check out Carly Carlson's fantastic post on the photoshoot the boy and I did a few weeks ago. She posts some of the best/funniest on her blog. The Monday Night Posse had a full gallery viewing last night and I just don't know how we're going to decide on our absolute favorites! She did a fantabulous job!

That is all... you may go back to what you were doing. ;-)

*Pictures taken in Baker City, OR and outlying areas.*

Thankful Thursday: Marriage

Mr. & Mrs. Bentley. September 8, 2007

Three years ago I sat in the Bridal Suite of Old Laurelhurst Church, anxiously awaiting 6:00 pm and surrounded by my best friends. At 22 years of age I had found the one I knew I was meant to share my life with. Jason was everything I had dreamed of - patient, funny, a fair fighter, compassionate, and supportive - and I couldn't wait to embark on our next adventure: marriage.

Anniversary dinner at Benihana's. My first time.

Yesterday marked our three-year anniversary. In November we will have been married longer than we dated. Neither of us knew what the future would hold when we said our vows before our family and friends, but we both entered into the union knowing we would face whatever came our way together. I believe that has been the cornerstone of our marriage's success: we talk about everything and do everything together. We seek the best for each other in every decision we make, both as individuals and as a couple, and the joy in our marriage is testament to that.

I still don't know what the future holds for us, and I'm okay with that. What I do know is I am blessed beyond measure to have Jason as my husband and as long as we keep choosing each other every day our adventure will only get sweeter.