Climbing Into Love - Love Story Wrap Up

The best part of our love story really began the day we were married, because, you see, I fell in love backwards. Or, rather, my story is backwards and opposite.  Many people fall in love and get married.  I got married and climbed into love. 

We spent our honeymoon inn-hopping down the Oregon Coast and into California.  Beyond the obviously breathtaking scenery, it was wholly refreshing and relaxing- like falling back onto a mountainous pile of fluffy pillows after a grueling marathon.  I'm sure there's a better analogy, but you get the idea. 

 We drove and talked and laughed and ate and slept and wandered our way from Portland right into San Francisco, finishing up with fresh crab, hot chowder and sourdough on the Wharf.  Really, it doesn't get much better than that.

Marrying Creighton meant a move for me to his home in Sunnyvale, California- about 45 minutes south of San Francisco.  Could you pick a better name than "Sunnyvale?"  It was absolutely perfect for all that first year and a half was for us.  I grew up near San Francisco, so this move was a homecoming for me in more ways than one. Creighton and I knew just about everything there was to know about the other, so there was little time spent on adjustment.  We eased right into marriage- elated that there would never be anymore goodbyes. 




What most people do when they're dating, we did during our first year of marriage: we played together!  In the hills, on the beach, in the city.  Even work was play for us- we found two old sturdy desks at thrift stores and refinished them, then arranged them so we sat back to back while we worked- mostly from home.  Fortunately the room couldn't fit the desks side by side or we would've never gotten anything done!  We had both finished school long before, so our evenings and weekends were one big extended honeymoon.




With the decision making over, all fear and anxiety vanished and I found myself again.  In many ways, I had a brand new heart- no longer wilted and withered and wounded as it had been.  And it was free!  On October 31st, 2000, I wrote in my journal for the first time since our wedding.  I remember the tears streaming down my face and onto the page as I wrote:

I feel like I need to write today.  I am so peacefully happy.  It's hard to say how one gets from A to Z emotionally, but I'm here.  I feel so blessed, so content, so grateful.  I am basking in the sunshine.  Every morning I wake up so grateful.  Every night I go to bed so content and even more grateful than in the morning...  I love Creighton more and more every day.  He comforts me and cheers me and supports me.  He helps me to grow and improve.  He is truly my very best friend.  He is so loving and kind to me.  He is thoughtful and caring.  He is a good, beautiful person.   And we have so much fun together!  I don't think there could be anyone I would enjoy being with more...  I can't wait to love him more and more...

And so it went with every passing day. I climbed right into love.  By the time our first anniversary came around, I was truly in love with this man I married.  Creighton surprised me with a weekend trip to Napa Valley.  I was expecting, and in the miserable throes of nausea, but so very happy.  I wrote again in my journal:

I wonder what kind of life awaits us once the baby is born.  This past year has been like a dream in many ways-- pleasant and peaceful...I don't want this happy time to end.

It didn't end.  It hasn't ended.  It has certainly taken on different forms in different circumstances, but life with Creighton has continued to be pleasant and peaceful- and full of love.  He is still my very best friend and my favorite person in the whole world.   Every day, every month, every year I love him more.  Sometimes I look at him from afar and can't believe I'm married to him!  I still wake up every morning so grateful-  and go to bed even more content and grateful than when I woke. 

There is something about knowing so much pain and darkness for a time that has made me more sensitive to the joy and the light that surround me. I can't help but be deeply grateful every single day knowing the contrast.  It is part of the lense through which I view life now.  There is so much I learned from our long drawn out love story- so much that has shaped me and tempered me prepared me for the present- and probably for the future.  I came to know and trust my own heart and gain confidence in my ability to make difficult decisions despite so many conflicting voices from within and without.  But most of all, I learned about love and forgiveness- for myself, for the past, for Creighton, and from God. I confirmed that what matters most to Him are the desires of our hearts. I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who never lost faith in me, and for a husband who never gave up on me.  And I am grateful for second chances after making mistakes. 

Now when I read those verses in the Book of Alma, I smile.  Because I know a little something about them:

42And because of your diligence and your faith and your patience with the word in nourishing it, that it may take root in you, behold, by and by ye shall pluck the fruit thereof, which is most precious, which is sweet above all that is sweet, and which is white above all that is white, yea, and pure above all that is pure; and ye shall feast upon this fruit even until ye are filled, that ye hunger not, neither shall ye thirst.

43 Then, my brethren, ye shall reap the rewards of your faith, and your diligence, and patience, and long-suffering, waiting for the tree to bring forth fruit unto you.


The End  Beginning.

Wedding Album

Oh Ho Ho....the story's not over.  Not just yet.  But in the meantime, here are some wedding photos.  Unfortunately, the color photos are in an album that isn't letting me remove them without a fight.  I got two out with minimal damage, but am having to resort to loose black and whites of the reception for the rest right now.  After scanning, they look more like newspaper shots.  Someday I'll re-install Photoshop and work on them.  Someday.  Here are a few highlights: 

The view from our window...

Oh, my aching feet...

 

Craig and the best man...

Me and my maids...

And a more colorful view of the cake...

Such a happy day.

Light, Bright and White - Love Story Pt. 12

Creighton and I were married on April 7, 2000.  I had always wanted to be married in May, when the spring palette bursts with color and the weather brushes against perfection.  But I didn't dare wait that long, and in retrospect, I wouldn't change that detail for anything.

On our day, the sky was clear and blue with a light yellow sun.  A brisk wind punctuated everything.  It never occurred to me to arrange to have my hair done that day, which was a good thing- it would've been a waste of money.  I didn't mind the wind.  It was refreshing- blowing out the heavy, gray air of winter and infusing the skies with the crisp, fresh breath of life.  And I inhaled it all.  I love that it was early spring.  The transition from death to life is so marked.  And spring flowers are my flowers-- they speak to me with their simple charm.  I can't help but get a rush of joy when the daffodils pop up each year and reveal their cheerful faces.  And the tulips- so striking against the backdrop of still faded greens.  Most of all, I love what spring flowers represent:  The hope of new beginnings. 

[The Corner Girls after the ceremony]  Look at those flowers!!

Creighton's parents hosted a beautiful wedding breakfast for us at the Huntsman Hotel in This is The Place Park.  What I remember most about that breakfast, besides the amazing food and being surrounded by so many we love, was the laughter. 

 At last the comic relief in our 12 act play! Creighton's Dad had written a poem for us called "Someone Keeps Flipping The Switch."  He read it aloud to everyone there:

IN OUR HOUSE IN THE HALL, THERE'S A SWITCH ON THE WALL;
LIKE A GOOD PRO AND CON, DOWN IS OFF, UP IS ON;
     IT'S A MATTER OF FLIPPING THE SWITCH.

NOW, HERE'S TRICIA AND CREIGHTON...LONG DATIN' AND WAITIN'
HE SAID, AS HE DROVE HER HERE, "TH' WAITIN' IS OVER."
     BUT WHAT IF SOME HAND'S ON THE SWITCH?

YOU SEE, JUST AS WE THOUGHT THAT THE COURTSHIP WAS HOT,
JUST THAT QUICKLY WE'RE FOOLED CAUSE THE DARN THING HAD COOLED
     AS IF SOMEONE HAD PLAYED WITH THE SWITCH

AND THEN, JUST AS WE'D SCOFF 'CAUSE THE ROMANCE WAS OFF,
AND CONFUSED AS TO WHEN, IT WAS ON ONCE AGAIN...
     I SWEAR THERE'S A GLITCH IN THE SWITCH

SO IT'S OFF AGAIN, ON AGAIN, NOW AND THEN, IF AND WHEN,
HERE AND THERE, EVERYWHERE, PERFECT PAIR; SAY A PRAYER...
     SOMEONE KEEPS FLIPPING THE SWITCH.

NOW THE NUPTIALS ARE ON AND THE JITTERS ARE GONE;
OR AT LEAST FOR THE MOMENT THAT'S WHAT THE NEW GLOW MEANT...
     AT LEAST, 'TIL A CHANGE IN THE SWITCH.

FOR, WE WEREN'T ALWAYS ABLE TO SIT AT THE TABLE
AND TELL AT A GLANCE THE TRUE STATE OF ROMANCE
     BECAUSE SOMEONE KEPT FLIPPING THE SWITCH.

AH!  BUT NOW YOU SHOULD KNOW (THEY INSIST IT IS SO)
THAT THEY'VE PLANNED AND THEY'VE STRIVEN; THE WEDDING'S A GIVEN;
     AND THEY'RE NOT CONCERNED WITH THE SWITCH.

BUT LET'S GET DOWN THERE FAST SO THE MOMENT WILL LAST;
LET'S NOT WALK; LET'S ALL RUN; AND UNTIL IT'S ALL DONE,
     LET'S HAVE SOMEONE STAND GUARD AT THE SWITCH.

IS IT OFF AGAIN, ON AGAIN, NOW AND THEN, IF AND WHEN,
HERE AND THERE, EVERYWHERE, PERFECT PAIR; SAY A PRAYER....
    SOMEONE KEEPS FLIPPING THE SWITCH?

NO, IT'S ON AGAIN, ON AGAIN, ON THROUGH THE GRAND AMEN;
PERFECT PAIR; WHAT A PRAYER....FAITH AND HOPE EVERYWHERE....
      
    LOVE HAS DISMANTLED THE SWITCH.


The laughter continued right into our ceremony.  We were married by Ned Winder, a sweet, wise and funny man who seemed to know that our marriage was cause for celebration, though we had not met him before.  So many of our family and friends remarked that it was 'the best sealing they'd ever attended.'  I didn't have much experience with sealings, but of course I couldn't agree more.  Amidst all the smiles and laughter, after we had been called up to the alter, Brother Winder looked at Creighton and I in seriousness, and in a voice inaudible to the rest of the room said:

"Thank you for being prepared to be here."

I looked at him, and in his eyes I could see that somehow, some way he knew--he understood the difficult road we had both traveled to get to this point. Creighton has a story of his own that began long before we ever met.  His journey was no less painful than mine.  And for me, despite all the embarrassment- all the humiliation of my doubts and fears and indecision over the years, I felt in that moment that God, too, understood  my struggles, my heart and my intention.  I had only ever wanted to be wise- to make the very best decision I could.  I had only ever wanted to be prepared-- for this day and for the rest of my life.  Of all the wisdom Brother Winder imparted that day, those words still mean the most to me.   


When I reflect on our wedding day, I think of light.  The light of the sun.  The light blue of the sky.  The lightness of the air.  The light inside of me.  It was such a radiantly happy day for both of us.  I have since had to laugh looking back on all of the wedding details I overlooked at the time.  Things that most people fuss and fret about, I was oblivious to in the planning.  The reception was an afterthought.  I did carefully choose the location- the Nauvoo Room of the Joseph Smith Memorial Building  It is such a beautiful, cheerful room, with huge picture windows framing the Salt Lake Temple.  And I did select the food- from a menu- which took me all of five minutes.  But much of the rest eluded me.  Except for the flowers.  I made sure that there were bunches of spring flowers all around- cheerful bouquets of daisy, daffodil and delphinium to smile right along with us.  And I loved our wedding cake!  My aunt had crafted and adorned it with tiny blue flowers and little white daisies, sugared and fresh. 

Our reception was supposed to be from 6 to 8pm.  We were still standing in the line at 10:30.  So many people from so many chapters of our lives.  I was overwhelmed with love (despite my aching feet.)  When at last the line thinned out and trickled, we broke away and Creighton pulled out his guitar and sang a song that he wrote for me.  And I got to sit and admire him from afar!  Bouquet and garter were tossed, then we hurried and cut the cake.  There were so many people still there- the tables full- standing room only.  We figured that must be what they were all waiting for!  A big hurrah and rounds of applause put the exclamation point on our day. 

All was so very right with our world.




It was nearly midnight by the time I changed out of my dress and met Creighton in the empty lobby.   All the guests had gone- a few family were gathering things to go.  There were no crowds to give us a grand farewell- we'd worn them out!  But it didn't matter.  There near the door, he handed me a little box- inside was a delicate gold chain with a small opal stone and one tiny diamond- it was shimmering and golden and white- like light.  His wedding gift to me. 

And with that, we left-- arm in arm, out the revolving doors and into our future.

Taking Flight - Love Story Pt. 11

"It just wasn't the same."  He said on the other end of the line.  "Being with her isn't like being with you......I miss you."  

My eyes welled up and a smile emerged:  "I miss you too!" 

Then my best friend surfaced and proceeded to give me the play by play of the weekend, including one lack-luster kiss, and right up to his early farewell-- seeing no reason to spend any more time with this girl and her family.  I was so sorry for her, but so so happy for me.  I was irreplaceable!  At least this time.

I wasn't going to let there be a next time.

Less than a week later I was on a plane to San Jose.  I stared out the window and over the clouds, knowing I was flying right into my future.  I spent those 90 minutes contemplating the power of one single choice to alter eternity. It was incomprehensible.  But I had made up my mind.  I was 100% certain of my choice and I swore to myself the moment I purchased the airline ticket that I would not turn back, no matter what.  I fully expected fear to rear it's ugly head, and I was prepared this time.  I knew my enemy now.  We were fully acquainted.  I knew his sneaky tactics, and I had built up an arsenal of weapons within to maintain my stronghold.

I got off the plane with Creighton's kind eyes and warm smile to welcome me.  We melted into a hug that calmed me to my core.  It was New Years Eve,Y2K.  If the world was going to end, at least we would go out together. We spent the evening at a party hosted by Cisco, his employer, and miraculously survived the Midnight gong. 

I slept on Creighton's couch while he did  graveyard shifts at work to be sure the entire Internet was ushered safely into the new millennium.  I remember waking up when he tiptoed in just before dawn and feeling enveloped in peace and warmth and happiness.

We spent New Years Day at Muir Woods, north of San Francisco and then had dinner with some of his friends.  At one point in the morning, I felt myself spiraling downward, but quick-as-a-ninja, I whipped out my noggin nun-chucks and sent those willies packing.

Muir Woods.  New Years Day 2000

The following day was Sunday.  We attended church together and I sat through the meetings with a flurry of thoughts and emotions- still in mid-air with the leap of faith I had just taken.  During the third hour, the teacher made a comment during her lesson that I knew was meant specifically for me.  My spirit at last touched ground.  For the first time in many many years, I had an exhilarating sense of freedom- freedom from the shackles of the past and freedom from my need to grip the future. I at last felt free not only to choose (which I had done), but to feel confident in my choice. One big green light glowed within me. 

I frolicked in my liberation, and we basked in the happy glow that evening.  Then Creighton put that beautiful ring back on my finger where it belonged. 

Creighton's new girlfriend called that night to check on him after his hasty departure Christmas night.  I sat on the sofa and cringed while he talked to her and let her go as kindly as he could.  It turns out I had met this girl in college. The  minute I put a face to her name, I knew Creighton would never have ended up with her.  Somehow that made it all okay-  I felt sure she would find someone else. 

He was mine.

I flew back to Utah the next morning-- and back into the wind and waves I fully expected.  Each day I braced myself for incoming fearful storms.  This time, the tactics were switched; it was not my own doubts and fears I battled, but those that came at me like poisonous arrows aimed at my confidence- comments from friends, songs on the radio, a documentary on T.V., magazine and newspaper articles-- all sending the subtle, sinister message that I was wrong- that I couldn't trust my heart. 

But I knew that I could.  I had at long last learned that- from losing the first time, and choosing the second time.  So I retaliated.  I rose each morning to drawn-out prayers for strength and deep drinking of scriptures, until I reached the point that I could leave my home filled with light inside.  I turned off the radio and television.  I stopped reading magazines and newspapers.  I braced myself for discouraging conversations.  I took breaks to read scriptures at work, and took time off to attend the temple when my faith was faltering.  On one particularly difficult morning driving to work, I decided I would turn on the radio for the first time in weeks.  A song I had never heard was playing and I was struck by the words:

I can read your mind and I know your story

and I see what you're going through

It's an uphill climb, and I'm feeling sorry

But I know it will come to you

So don't surrender cause you can win

In this thing called love

When you want it the most there's no easy way out

When you're ready to go and your heart's left in doubt

Don't give up on your faith

Love comes to those who believe it

And that's the way it is

When you question me for a simple answer

I don't know what to say

But it's plain to see, if you stick together

You're gonna find the way

So don't surrender cause you can win

In this thing called love

I have no doubt that some angel whispered to me to turn on the radio that morning. And God spoke to me in a song.  By the time I arrived at work, I had as much light and faith and conviction as I had ever had.  And so it went... each minute, each hour, each day and each week, I braved that storm and made it through.  Faith and hope and love conquering doubt and fear and insecurity.

Creighton flew back to Salt Lake every two or three weeks during that time.  His visits were rest to my soul.  Each week, the storms grew weaker and weaker as I became more and more firm in my faith and at peace within myself- to the point where nothing could weaken or destroy it.  
 
This is the state I was in when our wedding day arrived...

Engagement Photo. February 2000.

George Bailey...and Me - Love Story Pt. 10

As I was bobbing in front of the eyewall, Creighton's lovely sister, Rose, called me one day out of the blue, just to check on me.  I was touched that she cared enough to reach out to me, even when Creighton was gone, and our relationship over as far as others knew.  We talked about him- about the good good soul that he is, and we talked about me and my indecision.  By the end of the phone call, tears were rolling down my cheeks.  I was alive again. 

On the first of December 1999, Creighton's 99 year old grandfather passed away. Creighton had been gone nearly two months by that time.  Somehow I learned that he would be coming home for the funeral.  I debated about whether or not to call him, knowing that he did not want contact unless I was ready to move forward, but I decided that our friendship came above everything else-  his grandfather's death mattered more than our policy of silence. I found myself trembling when he walked through my door, and had to hold back tears.  I spent the day with him and his family, and stood back while all eleven of his siblings and his parents posed for a rare family picture.  Then Creighton rushed off to catch his flight back to California.

Our silence resumed, but only on the outside.  Inside, I was rallying- gathering courage, building conviction.  I had two pictures of Creighton that I looked at often during this month- one of him as a sweet three year old little boy, and a more recent photo that let me see right through to his heart. I would look at those pictures and all fear and doubt would melt away.  I saw the kind of man I wanted to marry in his eyes.

Towards the end of December, I ran into a colleague downtown who asked me about Creighton.  I proceeded to tell her the short story and she, in turn, relayed her own engagement story and the leap of faith she had to take at a very young age.  She finished by reminding me that sitting back and waiting was not making a choice.  I needed to make a final decision and do something about it if I ever wanted to move forward.  I knew this, but something about hearing it from her at last lit my fuse. 

I was ready.

I decided I would fly out to California and surprise Creighton with a visit for Christmas.  It was my best attempt at a leap of faith.  The more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable I became with the element of surprise.  Instead, I decided to call him and *ask* if I could come visit him for Christmas.  He was surprised when I called- happy at first, but then hesitant as I proceeded to lay out my plans.

"If you're just coming for fun, then please don't come" he said.  I knew what he meant.  But there was more...

"I met a girl here," he added.  We've been dating for a little while, and I'm spending Christmas with her family."

Silence.

"Oh." I replied, somewhat stunned.  I wanted to be happy for him.  I kept my voice unaffected and wished him a Merry Christmas.  Then we hung up.

Over the next 24 hours, reality hit me like a cannon ball to the heart.  I was going to lose him.  I could hardly breathe at the thought.  A heavy sadness set in.  Like dear George Bailey, I suddenly had a vivid glimpse of life, not without me, but without Creighton in it.  I didn't want a life without him in it!  After all those years in wounded silence, my heart finally began to speak.  It cried out.  I did love him- deeply. I had planted that little seed years before and had been choosing him over and over again- planting, watering, nurturing- every time we came together.  And all the while, that love had grown- far more than I realized.  I loved him enough and then some.  And the thought of losing someone I loved all over again was more than I could bear.

I prayed through my tears that Christmas.  I couldn't ask to change what was meant to be, but I poured out my heart to heaven and determined that if Creighton decided he still wanted me, I would marry him.  He was the one I wanted to love. 

Late that Christmas night, the phone rang...

It was Creighton.

The Eye of the Storm - Love Story Pt. 9

Eye (cyclone)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

The eye is a region of mostly calm weather found at the center of strong tropical cyclones. It is surrounded by the eyewall, a ring of towering thunderstorms where the second most severe weather of a cyclone occurs. The cyclone's lowest barometric pressure occurs in the eye, and can be as much as 15% lower than the atmospheric pressure outside the storm.


If you ask Creighton for his version of the story, it would probably go something like this:

Once upon a time I met a girl. 
I really liked her.
I thought she liked me. 
I guess I was wrong. 
Darn.


There might be a few more details, but that's the gist of it.

He left for California and I dwelt in the land of nothingness.  No Pain, No Joy.  No Fear, No love.  No Pressure.  But not just no pressure- less than no pressure....like the eye of a storm.  Too calm.  Deceptively clear.  I imagined myself going on in nothingness indefinitely.  It was tempting.  The numbness was dulling, even lulling to me after so many years of pain and emotional exhaustion.  The nothingness enticed me with its promise of security in predictability.  I could see myself 6 months--  maybe a year down the road, running in to Creighton somewhere, still feeling...nothing.  We would be indifferent acquaintances on divided paths.  It was such a safe place to be.  I knew that in this numb state, I could certainly go on without him--  without anyone, really.  Bobbing on my own personal raft in the dead calm of life. 

Or could I, really?  The question only surfaced after I'd spent more than a month in that emotional void.

If I have one driving force inside of me it is the desire to live life abundantly.  To suck the marrow right out of it.  I'm not, and have never been, interested in coasting along a well-oiled track to my grave.  I don't want to do what everyone else is doing or do it the way it's always been done--unless it presents me with the greatest possible odds for superlatives.  I want to know and experience the very best that life has to offer- the very best that God intends- in every realm.

Numbness, I learned, was the antithesis of abundance.  To remain in that state would be blasphemous, and an insult to my own creation.  I could not continue on that path.

In all my nothingness, there was one something:  I could think logically.  And logically, if I was not going to continue in the void, I had to make a choice-- a choice that, despite two engagements, had not yet been made deep within myself.  I had to choose to marry Creighton without being "in love," or to let him go for good.

Falling in love didn't seem likely for me.  I felt so handicapped- irreparably damaged from the first love story.  Back when I met the first boy, I worried that this would happen to me- that I would be ruined for anyone else if it didn't work out. I feared I would never love another.  But I hoped and trusted that God would somehow make it possible. It had been six years.  I knew it happened for other people, but despite years of mustered faith and desperate prayers, it hadn't happened for me.  I just didn't know how it would or could be done for me anymore.

I was not naive about marriage.  I never imagined it would be a blissful ride- which was precisely why I fretted so much about making a good decision.  I knew life would be a roller coaster ride and I was determined to find someone tough enough for the journey who would hold on tight with me and never let go.  I figured that falling in love was the best way to begin, so that you had something to draw from when times were rough. 

What do you do if you don't have that to fall back on? 

That was the big BIG question I had to ponder.  Would my marriage-- would life- be less than the very best if I don't start out in love??

I couldn't answer that.  I had no idea. The best I could do was consider all of the arranged marriages throughout the world since the beginning of time-  or to think of Fiddler on the Roof and  "Do I love him?...."     Oy vey.

My complete absence of experience on that point left a pit in my stomach.  I would never, could never, really know unless I tried it.  Did I have the guts for it?  It would have to be an absolute leap of faith.  Part of me was mad that my long and painful search had come to this.  "All of my sorrow and loss for this?!  To marry someone I'm not in love with?!!"   I was so sad that I had to ask myself these questions.

God was not mute during this time.  From my second engagement through these months, he spoke to me regularly through scriptures, always encouraging me to move forward in faith- to let go of doubt and fear and judgement.  I was particularly struck by these verses, which I opened to after one heartfelt prayer, and again and again later on:

27 But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words.

28 Now, we will compare the word unto a seed. Now, if ye give place, that a seed may be planted in your heart, behold, if it be a true seed, or a good seed, if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief, that ye will resist the Spirit of the Lord, behold, it will begin to swell within your breasts; and when you feel these swelling motions, ye will begin to say within yourselves—It must needs be that this is a good seed, or that the word is good, for it beginneth to enlarge my soul; yea, it beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me.

33 And now, behold, because ye have tried the experiment, and planted the seed, and it swelleth and sprouteth, and beginneth to grow, ye must needs know that the seed is good. 

37 And behold, as the tree beginneth to grow, ye will say: Let us nourish it with great care, that it may get root, that it may grow up, and bring forth fruit unto us. And now behold, if ye nourish it with much care it will get root, and grow up, and bring forth fruit.

38 But if ye neglect the tree, and take no thought for its nourishment, behold it will not get any root; and when the heat of the sun cometh and scorcheth it, because it hath no root it withers away, and ye pluck it up and cast it out.

39 Now, this is not because the seed was not good, neither is it because the fruit thereof would not be desirable; but it is because your ground is barren, and ye will not nourish the tree, therefore ye cannot have the fruit thereof.

41 But if ye will nourish the word, yea, nourish the tree as it beginneth to grow, by your faith with great diligence, and with patience, looking forward to the fruit thereof, it shall take root; and behold it shall be a tree springing up unto everlasting life.

42 And because of your diligence and your faith and your patience with the word in nourishing it, that it may take root in you, behold, by and by ye shall pluck the fruit thereof, which is most precious, which is sweet above all that is sweet, and which is white above all that is white, yea, and pure above all that is pure; and ye shall feast upon this fruit even until ye are filled, that ye hunger not, neither shall ye thirst.

43 Then, my brethren, ye shall reap the rewards of your faith, and your diligence, and patience, and long-suffering, waiting for the tree to bring forth fruit unto you.


I practically had these verses memorized from a lifetime of study in The Book of Mormon, but I had never thought to apply it to marriage, or relationships in general.  As far as I could tell, I had made it up to verse 39 with Creighton, and was standing on the edge of a mighty precipice which might, or might not lead to verses 42 and 43.  But those verses were exactly what I wanted!  The superlatives of all superlatives!!!  It seemed that even God was nudging me to jump. 

But it wasn't just the scriptures. He had spoken to me in other ways and had impressed thoughts in my mind over the past year.  The overriding message was of charity- unconditional love. God seemed to be coaxing me forward- beckoning me to come and learn something wonderful.
What is most interesting about these verses when applied to pure love, is that, unlike "falling in love," it involves a deliberate choice. And not just the choice to plant the seed, but even the choice to desire to plant the seed.  He stretches the boundaries as far as he can to invite us into the opportunity. That's what this all started to feel like: an opportunity extended to me to exercise the agency I so vehemently defended in one of the greatest ways possible. I had fought fiercely to be able to choose who I married and who I loved. He was quite literally presenting me with this opportunity- to realize the gift and power of free will when it comes to experiencing the greatest love imaginable.

This is what came to my mind as soon as I chose to turn away from nothingness and began paddling my way out of the deadly calm.  My thoughts carried me closer and closer- back to the wall of wind and waves.   I stopped paddling for a moment in nervous anticipation...

Me and my roommate and rock, Danielle.  Donner's Pass, November1999.

  While in the Land of Nothingness...

Clearly We Have a Scissor Problem

Kate cut her hair again.

I know that it's somehow all my fault, but I'm in denial.

Here's what the girls have to say about it:

Walking on Water - Love Story Pt. 8

With that beautiful ring on my finger, I couldn't eat, I couldn't work, I could hardly think.   I found myself abandoning my office far too often to wander aimlessly downtown.  I was drowning in distress. 

And I was so fed up with myself.  It was humiliating.  I had never before, and have never since, been so out of touch with my feelings.  Logically, there was no reason I should be reacting this way.  I was sure I had worked through all of my fears about marriage: I understood that there are no guarantees, and I was finally willing to take the risk.  I knew Creighton extremely well by this point.  He was everything I'd ever dreamed of finding- all wrapped up in a different package than I'd ever imagined.
And he made me happy.  He was so good to me.

I know we're all feeling so sorry for Creighton right now, but please know that my sincerity was real and my intentions were pure.  From the beginning, I just wanted to make the best decision I could.  I kept most of my struggles to myself to be sure I didn't hurt him unnecessarily- especially this time.  It took me several weeks to let him know I was not doing well. I tried so hard to maintain my composure. I hoped the anxiety would pass if I could just hold on long enough, but for me, it was like trying to walk on water.  I prayed incessantly for help, and peace, and strength.  I knew- absolutely- that God was aware of my struggle and that he had some things he wanted to teach me.  He gave me a glimpse of the greatest lesson, but left me with the feeling that there was something more I needed to address within myself.

With my body wasting away and my mind unable to attend to the details of planning a wedding only six weeks away, I finally had to say something to Creighton.  I was so sad and so sorry.  He was so kind.  We brainstormed together to come up with a defensive plan.  We even sat down with his parents and told them I was struggling with some anxiety and depression.  I didn't really know what to call what I was experiencing, but those are labels that most people understand today, and the closest things I could relate it to.  Creighton's mother, who had dealt with a bout of depression when she was younger, suggested I pay a visit to her doctor.  It was also suggested that I consider talking with a counselor at social services.  I was so desperate and determined to get through this, that I took their suggestions.  I wasn't sure either one was the answer for me, but because I had never dealt with this situation before, I didn't want to be foolish by turning down anything that might help.  Besides, my clothes were all falling off- I had to do something about that.

The doctor was capable and experienced.   I walked out of her office with a prescription for an anti-depressant.  I filled it, went home, stared at the bottle, and had the very strong impression that I should not take them.  This was not the answer for me.

The counselor was another story.  A rather surreal experience for me because I rarely ever go to other people for help. (It's a weakness.)  She had asked Creighton to be there with me- which I wasn't so sure about.  He came.  She asked me a lot of questions.  I talked.  But not for too long.  I don't think the visit lasted longer than 20 minutes.  She listened to what I had to say, observed me, and then, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, pronounced her diagnosis:

"It sounds to me like you're not in love with him."

Her words struck such a cord in me that my face burned and my insides ignited.  I couldn't say anything in response, I was dumbfounded.  I thanked her for her time, told her I'd consider that, and we left. Imagine walking away with your fiance after a pronouncement like that! I stumbled over some words trying to make light of her analysis, but I couldn't ignore that stunned sensation inside of me- a feeling that truth had been jolted to the surface.  I had some things to think about. But I wasn't going to be asking Creighton to be there for it.

Something about that counselor releasing those words into the air made it possible for me to explore the notion of romantic love again after so long.  In the first year of our relationship, I knew I wasn't in love- we've gone over that already.  My bedraggled heart belonged to someone else, and it felt impossible for me to love two people at the same time.  It felt like a betrayal to my soul.  But somewhere along the line, I had stopped thinking about that other boy every hour of the day.  I had stopped hoping that he would call.  I had actually felt that window close and bolt.  And gradually, all of my thoughts and attention had turned to Creighton.  For nearly a year, he had been the one constantly on my mind- he was the future I explored.  But my mind was still in the driver's seat, not my heart.  Still, we were close enough that I had grown to truly care about him.   I felt a very real and deep connection to Creighton.  We had become very good friends and we shared so many of the same ideals and goals for life.  This, in combination with the obvious chemistry we had, was the basis for my engagement(s) to him.  I had been so used to feeling nothing for anyone for so long, that this seemed to be quite enough.  What more could I ask for?

But something in me was asking for more.  After overcoming all of my fears about marriage, this was the one monumental fear that remained: deep down inside of me, I was terrified that I might be marrying someone I wasn't truly in love with!  This was the fear that kicked in immediately after both engagements.

It's a horrifying thought, isn't it?  

Here's the thing-  our entire culture revolves around the idea that romantic love is the be all, end all of our existence.  Being in love is wonderful- I fully support it!  But we've come to believe, thanks to Disney and the rest of Hollywood, that if a marriage doesn't begin in a state of romantic bliss, or if it doesn't continue on that sort of high, there is something terribly wrong.  If you believe it, the result is a devastating sense of loss, or resentment, or self-pity, and eventually entitlement.  This one belief is the source of much anguish and far too many broken relationships.  

Once I allowed myself to recognize my biggest stumbling block, the fear and anxiety peaked, and then turned to utter perplexity.  How could I not be in love with Creighton??  And what do I do about that?  I couldn't manufacture those kinds of feelings.  All this time, I had been waiting for something magical to happen that would sweep me off my feet.  Love at first sight would have been nice... or maybe I just wanted a little cat and mouse game so I could conquer in the end.  This wasn't how it happened in the first love story, but I assumed this is how it usually happens.  And it hadn't happened.  Creighton had always been there - too real for magic, too comfortable for tingly, and too genuine for games. 

We called off the engagement so I could recover my health.  There was an uproar from family attempting to shake some sense into me.  Even Grandma called to slap my cheeks.  I couldn't tell anyone the truth- there seemed to be something very wrong about letting Creighton go because I wasn't "in love" with him.

We didn't really have a plan after that. I gave him back the ring and had no idea where to go from there. We were hanging in mid-air, with a stagnant sense of nothingness all about.  That's always the result of indecision.  For the first time, I didn't have any suggested course of action for either of us.  Recognizing that, Creighton's own instincts kicked into gear.  Shortly after calling off the engagement, he called to tell me that he had accepted a job in California.  It was time for him to move on with his life.  He loved me, but he couldn't make up my mind for me.  He didn't want to keep in touch.  It would be too hard unless I knew what I wanted.  He couldn't go back and forth any longer.

Within a month, he was gone.  

A Slow Leaking Balloon - Love Story Pt. 7

For about 24 whole hours, I actually thought I could marry Creighton.  But even while we were walking back to the cabin, just after he had proposed, I suggested we not tell our families quite yet. 

That's not generally considered to be a good sign.

With every passing mile on our drive back home the next day, the floods of anxiety rose.  I could not go through with it. 

In my flustered, anxious state, I decided I needed some time apart.  Other than my summer in California, we had never managed to stay apart for more than a couple of weeks at a time.  I was feeling so bad about dragging Creighton through all of my mixed emotions that I suggested we make it a month this time so I could really, honestly, truly figure out what was making me so anxious. 

We lasted three weeks.
With one clandestine kiss in the middle.

My Dad was very sick during this time and had been hospitalized.  I went up to visit him and we had a talk about Creighton.  It was a very interesting discussion about opposing forces and the very real possibility that my fears were being played upon- not to protect me from making a bad decision, but to thwart me from making a good one.  Up until then, most of my conversations with friends or family about my anxieties hoisted a red flag in their eyes- which in turn increased my apprehension.  "Love should be wonderful and beautiful and exciting!" They would all say "Maybe it's just not right."  This was the first time anyone suggested that perhaps I had an enemy I needed to stand up to- that rather than ride every wave of emotion that passed through me, I could decide which ones I was going to let run through me and which ones I was going to channel right out of my mind.

My Dad rarely offered advice for my relationships.  He had done so once before in the first love story and I had brushed it aside thinking he couldn't understand.  This time, I paid attention.  I left the hospital turning his words over in my mind.  I was suddenly able to step outside of my clouded cell and view my predicament from a completely different perspective.  As I walked to my car, I could feel that stubborn, iron-willed side of me rise up with new purpose, determined to not let fear conquer me.

I drove away with fresh courage and found myself heading towards Creighton's apartment, which wasn't far from the hospital.  I told myself I would only drive by, but when I pulled up, he had just arrived home from work and was getting out of his car.  Shoot! I was so happy to see his face, but this wasn't supposed to happen! Of course he invited me in for a minute, and of course I wasn't going to turn him down in my freshly fear-flushed state.  I was feeling pretty darn good, and it spilled over into our visit.  By the time I left that evening, we were engaged yet again.  I drove home in a state of complete peace.  And there even seemed to be butterflies of happiness flitting around inside.  I told my roommate about our engagement when I arrived home and didn't even flinch- not one teeny tiny bit. 

I awoke the next morning to sunshine streaming through the window and lay there for a few minutes - almost holding my breath- to assess the internal situation.

Complete peace.  With a sunny lining. 

I wish I could've bottled it and put it into some capsules for a daily regimen because from that moment forward I was a slow-leaking balloon.  Not a week had passed before all of that peace and light had seeped right out of me.  Creighton took me up to Snowbird on a perfect summer evening and officially proposed to me on a mountainside trail.  He gave me the most beautiful ring- one he had chosen himself for me. It nearly made my heart stop beating- I couldn't believe it was all real. And then came the dizziness and the knots in my stomach and the flesh on high alert.

Outside of that perfect moment on the mountain, I was crumbling inside. In a matter of days I lost 20 pounds.

Happiness Is... Love Story, Pt. 6

All the privilege I claim for my own sex
 (it is not a very enviable one, you need not covet it)

 is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.

[Anne Elliot, Persuasion]

I was still waiting for that phone call from the first boy.  It's amazing- hope's tenacity.  Baffling, really.  I hoped against hope that he would call one day.  I knew that he wouldn't.  But every time the phone rang, I still wondered.  I hoped when there was no hope left.

This is what stared me squarely in the heart while I was in Monterey.  And this is what I came home  wondering what to do with.  Of course, I couldn't resist Creighton's company once I returned.  We gradually resumed our back and forth dance, spending more and more time together-- while I went to work on killing my hope.  He and the pretty blond girl eventually went their separate ways, and by that Christmas, we were meeting each others families.  I remember walking into his house on Christmas Day, filled to the brim with parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, and feeling....at home.  Creighton's mom always had a way of making me feel like I was wrapped in a warm and snugly blanket.  The rest of his family welcomed me with open arms.  I had a hard time remembering why I was so unsure whenever I stepped through that doorway.

But that wasn't the only burst of sunshine throughout all this time.  There were days and hours and moments of wonderful interspersed throughout our story during that first year;  times when I felt so happy with Creighton that I could glimpse a future with him.  For the most part, I loved spending time with him.  We could wander around the grocery store and have a great time.  Being with him was like reclining in the coziest of easy chairs and letting out a sigh of contented relief. 

One day, not long after Christmas, I was with Creighton and his family, but lost in thought, digging through the webs in my heart to understand my feelings.  My mind was in overdrive trying to figure out why the past still haunted me, and what to do about it.  In the middle of my heavy, heartbroken thoughts, a crystal clear voice brought me to attention, and said:

 Creighton would do anything in this world to bring you happiness. 

I looked over where Creighton was standing and a feeling of light and joy spread through me from my head to my toes.  I knew it was true. Creighton equaled happiness.  For the rest of the evening, I couldn't look at him without smiling inside. 

I could feel my heart take in a sliver of light in that dark and airless space, and Creighton could finally feel it from me. Not long after, we were strolling on a sidewalk downtown on a crisp, calm late winter day when Creighton slipped his hand into mine for the very first time. And I felt that frozen part of me begin to melt.  

That spring, Creighton and I took a trip to New York City and Washington, D.C. with our friend, Kevin.  We stayed with Creighton's sister in New Jersey, and his brother in Maryland, and all the while, I dared to imagine myself married to him.

Listening to Collin Powell. Memorial Day 1999. Washington, D.C.


In July, I invited Creighton to come with my family on a vacation to Yellowstone and the vision grew clearer. One evening he was reading to me in the cabin and I finally had that feeling that there was no place on earth I'd rather be than by his side, listening to his voice. He could've been reading the dictionary, and I would've been equally content. The next afternoon, we decided to take a walk in the forest.  It was a forest of tall, thin trees with silver trunks and branches reaching up to the sky. Leftover leaves and twigs crunched beneath our feet as we walked.  We paused mid-journey and happened to be standing under a beam of dusty light that made it's way through the canopy above.

In that hazy light, and enveloped in the happy glow of our friendship, Creighton asked me to marry him.

Saved By A Kiss - Love Story Pt. 5

All of my steely resolve melted into a puddle on the moonlit floor.   Something passed through me- softening my heart and smoothing the jagged edges of my mind- erasing everything I had determined to do up until that moment. And I let him kiss me.

It was so uncharacteristic of me, and I'll tell you why:

I have an iron will.  It may not be apparent in my usually mellow, soft spoken nature, but I am as firm as the summer sky is blue when it comes to matters of principle- or when I simply make my mind up about something.  That night, my mind was made up.  I knew where my heart stood, and it was 700 miles away with that other boy.  I had no desire to play around with Creighton's heart, or pretend to be something I wasn't.  If any of this was going to change, it would be the result of careful introspection- not a sudden transformation. This was my first clue that there were other forces at work here. There had to be.

Because that sudden melting away of my defenses led me to the most beautiful, other-worldly kiss of my life. 

Everything changed after that night. On the one hand, I realized that Creighton and I had a connection that went beyond complimentary interests and personalities.  On the other hand, I experienced a clash of feelings that sparked another internal, infernal game of tug-o-war.

One thing was for certain, though- he was irresistible.   I couldn't keep myself away from him!  No matter how many times I ran, there was a pull- a magnetic, gravitational sort of pull that always brought me back to him.  For a long time, I couldn't figure out logically what was making me run, so I came up with a different reason every time:  it could have been as ridiculous as the kind of car he drove, or a look he gave, or even the way he held his cup. It sounds shamefully superficial, and it was, because really and truly, the root of all of it was as simple as this:

FEAR.

On the surface it was fear of marriage, fear of commitment, fear of making a mistake, fear of the future, fear of the past repeating itself.  All kinds of fear.  If there were forces at work to bring us together, I became certain, as time went on, that there were equally powerful forces at work to keep us apart. Fear had tossed me to and fro with the first boy, but I recognized it too late. This was my first experience actually coming head to head with the other side of light- recognizing it for what it was.  But it took me awhile. And for a time, it was terrible. Fear is terrible.

But there was an opposite to my fear, as there always is an opposite to fear, and it was everything represented by that very first kiss- it was gentleness, kindness, forgiveness and genuine caring- it was unconditional love.  This is what Creighton offered me over and over and over again. This was the force that kept pulling me back to him in spite of the fear.

There is no fear in love;

 but perfect love casteth out fear;

because fear hath torment. 

He that feareth is not made perfect in love.

[1John 4:18]

We broke up three times in the first six months of dating.  "Break up" has such fiery connotations.  Ours were never fiery- never the result of meanness or abuse on either side.  Just a means of distancing myself from the relationship so I could think without self-induced pressure.  The break ups were always sad and apologetic in the beginning, and tearful as time went on.  I tried so hard to choose my words carefully. I knew too well the power they have to hurt unintentionally.  Creighton was always understanding, forgiving and patient.  Ever patient. 

After six months, I decided to distance myself even more, and moved to California for the summer to work in my company's office in Monterey.  While I was away, Creighton spent a lot of time with a very pretty blond girl who shared his passion for guitar.  I hung out with military boys and one postal worker who tried to convince me he was crazy (I had never heard the jokes.)  Creighton and I kept in touch through email. I was always glad to hear from him.  Always.

But I had a lot of time to think while I was gone, and I realized that there was a part of me deep down that was still waiting, ever waiting...for a phone call.

The Early Days.  On again, off again...



Clarity and Charity - Love Story Pt. 4

"You're going to marry him."   The voice said.

What?! 

I wasn't about to be told who to marry, not even by a voice in my own head.  Where's the choice in that??  I've always been a fierce defender of agency, so this really bothered me- which is preposterously ironic considering the thing I wanted most of all was to make the right decision,  and considering how many times I wished God would just tell me what to do-- in both love stories. In fact something like this happened to me with the first boy too and I excused it away. Silly, stubborn girl.

My roommates and I went to a fireside that Sunday night at the church.  Creighton was sitting two rows directly in front of me.  When the meeting concluded, he stood up and turned around to face us with a smile.  I wanted to duck and run.  I tried not to make eye contact, but how could I avoid it?  Instead I introduced him to my friends and let the the three of them carry the conversation while I counted the seconds until we could make our getaway. 

Creighton is not a dumb guy.  He picked up on my resistance immediately and kept his distance for a time.  But within just a few weeks, he was making regular (invited) visits to our corner house and took his place as the token male in our happy group.  We all got along rather swimmingly.  And this was just fine with me.  In fact, it was perfect.  Just as I liked it.  All the enjoyment of his company without any threat of commitment.  Lovely.  And so we went, merrily along, until one day, I was lingering with him at a mingle after church,  and out of nowhere, I actually had the thought: "I think I'll get him to ask me out today." 

Before leaving, we had a date for the following weekend. 

We went to a play in an old church-turned-theater--- the subject of which I can't recall for anything.  And afterwards, we ended up at T.G.I.Friday's for a little food.  I don't know how on earth we managed to order anything, let alone eat it, we were so lost in conversation.  There was so much to talk about- so much to say.  Just like the first time, I sat across from a boy who somehow understood where I was coming from, and that felt really good. 

This was the night when Creighton revealed a little bit more about himself and where he was coming from.  I learned that when we first met, nearly three years earlier, he had just made some major changes in his life and come back to church after a long absence. I heard the details of his story, and instead of shifting into my usual hyper-sensitive gear, found myself understanding him, and trusting who he had become because of where he had been.  I had learned a thing or two from the first boy about making hasty judgments,  and I wasn't about to repeat those mistakes.  So I listened-- very carefully.  In my memory, those two hours were wrapped up in a cozy, happy cocoon- as if we had been plucked out of our hazy lives and into this moment of absolute clarity...and charity.  Time stood still just long enough for me to open my heart a crack and begin to let him in. 

Creighton took my cue and proceeded to ask me out for the next week, and the following week, and so on.  I had a hard time maintaining the clarity of that first date and wobbled inside with my thoughts and feelings.  The more time we spent together, the more claustrophobic I became with the prospect of a serious commitment looming ahead of me.  I enjoyed spending time with him, but I wasn't smitten by any means, and that, combined with my caginess, set off the fight or flight in me.  One night, after a nice date, but seeing no reason to continue on, and not wanting to drag things out to the point of pain on either side, I decided it was time to flee.

Towards the end of the evening, I started planning in my mind what I might say to let him go gently.  I felt sure I couldn't go on with ambivalent feelings- and sure that we had dated enough to know that time wouldn't improve anything.  We came back to The Corner House and talked for a little while until I urged us to the front door so I could bid him a final farewell.  I should've done the sorry deed by this point, but hadn't figured out how to work it into our conversations yet.  We stood in the entry way and I could tell, as all girls can tell, that he had something else in mind. 

Up to this point, he had not kissed me- which was no surprise to me.  I had a thing about kissing boys- I didn't approach it lightly.  If a boy couldn't manage to reach my heart, I was physically unapproachable.  And after my heartbreak with the first boy, I resolved to never kiss another boy until I knew he was the one I would marry.  I couldn't do it. I wouldn't do it.

So here I was in the moonlit doorway of The Corner House, on the verge of severing all ties, but looking up at this really nice boy with kind eyes and a good good heart, who amazingly seemed to care so much about me. And he wasn't so bad to look at, either. What do I do??  Logically, I knew I should be firm in my resolve and make a clean break while I still could, but I hesitated for a few moments.

And in those few moments, something unexplainable happened...