March 15, 2013

A good weekend

  I'm not a good story teller. Recounting events just isn't my thing if you've ever noticed. I end up finding all the details either obvious or unimportant and end up chopping the story into an incredibly short, boring factual statement.  And I've been wanting to write all week about what a great weekend we had, how my brother got married, what fun family memories we made, and how, for once, everything just flowed and turned out great. But I can't tell stories, so I've left this post blank every day.

  And the truth is, that's exactly my approach to what I like to call "real life". When words don't do life justice, I just choose not to try.  Often times that leaves people thinking I'm indifferent or don't really appreciate what's before me. Much like some might have thought I didn't think last weekend was worth talking about. But it couldn't be further from the truth. Somethings are just too meaningful for words, and I'd hate to be the one to cheapen them. Last weekend, however, was more than a story I'd end up telling badly, and it was more than something that I just felt deeply. It was just beyond me altogether. 

    I watched a young bride commit her life to my brother knowing full well she wouldn't see him for another six months. Knowing full well she might never see him again, or that she might spend the rest of her life tending to an injured soldier. With grace and a big smile, I watched her enjoy the wedding day she had never planned on having. And for the first time in my life I watched a wedding where undoubtedly the sacredness of marriage was understood. 

   I watched a young soldier take in the love and support of his new bride and family, and I watched it weigh heavy on his heart - because just like his bride, the future was unknown to him. He sat with all his achievements and hard work patched onto his uniform - achievements that had gotten him his ticket to Afghanistan. And he couldn't have been more proud to be chosen to serve his country.  Nor could he shake the reality that all he held dear was what his call to duty demanded he sacrifice. 

   Amid all the heaviness I also watched a family, both old and new, celebrate and support a young couple for an entire weekend. With little regard to what the future might bring, we celebrated the present. We played games and laughed; we indulged in good food and told funny stories; we enjoyed each other's company and encouraged one another. And we thanked God for all He had blessed us with.  It was a great weekend - one for the books. 
   It was perhaps one of the first times I'd seen fear and unmet expectations lose their hold - left as unworthy opponents. Ignored. A foe that so easily entangles us all was tamed.  And all that was left was good. Joy and thankfulness. Fun and memories. Good. Because God is good. 


  1. Perfect post, Kel. That was beautifully said, both your story and insight into your inner monologue. Love you!

  2. say you aren't a good story teller and yet here you have captured the heart of your time together.What a beautiful tribute to love, to family and to our God who created both.
    Love you!

  3. I love how you write Kelly -- but I especially love the fact that you wrote about that weekend we had in El Paso. I completely agree with what you said!

    I'd say you are a fantastic story teller -- you just have your own way of bringing something that everyone is thinking about, writing it in your own special way, with heart felt words that bring it to life.

    I love you!

  4. Thanks for the encouragement, ladies.