This End Down

I love being able to keep my friends and family (and some random strangers) updated about every thought that crosses my mind. I’ve long enjoyed writing long, intimate blog posts about things that matter to me, and engaging in conversation with people who read the blog. I also love feeling like my family and friends who aren’t close to me geographically can get an update on how I’m doing.

This blog, Twitter, Facebook, and then an IV blog, IV facebook and IV twitter, have given me so many outlets for expression that I’ve reached the point of emptying myself of anything significant to say. I find myself always referring to “that post I wrote last week”, or, “did you see that thing I posted on Facebook?” Something had to change.

This blog, taking the most effort to update, was the first to drop. I’ve begun to limit my Twitter & Facebook updates pretty severely as well. I’m moving more towards generating content I want other people to see, and away from just talking about my life, my frustrations, etc.

Hopefully this is a good sign for the blog, because it’s my best place for generating content. It’s hard to have a teaching moment through Twitter. We’ll see.

It does mean it’ll be harder for people to just keep up with my life through these online mediums. So, if you ant that, and you miss it, please give me a call, email me, text me, comment here, or whatever else it takes to get in communication. I’d love to hear about you, and maybe tell you a little about my life as well.

But, for now, if you want to be kept a little more aware of my goings-on Internet-wise, feel free to follow me on twitter. Otherwise, pray that I use my time, attention, and expression wisely and in a way that helps others, leaves me with impetus for non-Internet conversation, and glorifies God.

Tonight, as I brushed my teeth and walked around the house to close up for the night, something a student told me last week at Chapter Camp took hold of me: I am a grown up.

This sank in because I had just left the bedroom where my wife slept in our bed (not the cheap college mattress, mind you, but a real bed with a frame underneath it) in front of our TV (not the 15″ one you inherit from your old roommate, but a real brand new TV). I was looking down at the full-sized bathroom that I share with my wife (not my roommates), at my hands complete with wedding band, and thinking about the house we’re hoping to rent for next year.

As I wandered out into the living room to check the thermostat, I thought about the electric bills I care for, the health insurance documents on the kitchen counter, and the cars we have to keep in repair.

Somewhere between the bathroom and the living room it kicked me in the gut: I am an adult. I am a grown man. I am 24 years old, have a facial piercing, and on most days I wear Nike sneakers, jeans, and a t-shirt, so you could most certainly call me an immature adult. But let’s face it: I have a wife, a job, a car, and we have our own place, furniture, and plans. I am, in the ways it is recognized and quantified in American society (or at least in my head back when I was a young pup), a grown-up.

You know what? It doesn’t feel as different as I had expected. I like it, that’s for sure. But I don’t feel much different than 5-year old Matt. I’m even beginning to lean a little toward Matthew, my childhood name.

The reason I put the qualifiers in front of “a grown-up” is that I’m not entirely sure that any of these accomplishments are necessarily tied to my spiritual growth and maturity. It’s interesting to claim myself a grown-up and yet feel so childlike so often. I hope that some aspect of that childlike nature will never go away, but I really do wonder if at some point I’ll feel more grown up. What does it take? A mortgage? Kids, perhaps? I already have a grey hair, for whatever that’s worth.

Praise the Lord for doing what he has in me to bring me to the point where I can love and respect my wife without too often falling into self-centered tantrums. Praise him for parents who taught me responsibility early on to help me survive moving halfway across the country for school. Praise him for a fellowship that nurtured and encouraged me to grow up in the way I look at people different from me. Praise him for my partner in this new part of my life.

I’m getting married Saturday.

We even set up a blog for it… which we then proceeded to forget about.

Our families are coming into town Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.

We still have a lot to do before the big day. Today we’ll be finalizing wedding cake details, possibly shopping for some gifts/supplies, paying the florist, and working on our reception playlist.

I don’t really have the brains to write much else. But! I wrote something. That’s a start.

Yah.

Holy crap.

It’ll be in March. I’m assuming most Michiganders won’t come but will send their best, so if you are one, no worries about not being able to afford a plane ticket and hotel stay and stuff. We understand. However, I will be sending out invitations to some Michiganders just in case some of them are crazy enough to come down.

So, we’ll be getting married some time in March… probably the 21st, but we’re not 100% sure. More information soon.

If you have any tips, tricks, connections on how to get married in Gainesville without spending a million dollars… especially if it’s still with a classy wedding and a bojillion people… I’d love your help.

Also, I plan to take full advantage of every offer for help, so don’t make it unless you mean it.

Finally, the engagement story (because you know you were going to ask):

A few years ago, when we were dating the first time, I created a meal for her (Chicken and Broccoli with a cream sauce over spaghetti) that she absolutely loved, and has been asking for since. So, I cooked that meal for her and served it along with some de-alcoholized wine (didn’t want our senses to be at all impaired for this special moment). She showed up to my house and the food was set out and a mix tape I made her a few years ago for Valentine’s Day was playing.

After the meal, I told her I was taking her somewhere for dessert, so we got in the car and drove over to a park/playground behind her old dorm (Beaty). I had her sit down at a picnic table and close her eyse, and I told her I was setting out dessert. I did set out dessert, but the dessert bag also had the ring box in it. I kneeled down and opened the box, and then told her to look at me. She said, “Wait, where are you? My eyes are closed!” She found me eventually, and I told her to open her eyes. After she took a second to take in the scene, I asked her to marry me.

There was lots of crying and “I love you”’s, but I think at some point she said “yes,” and I know that eventually she let me actually put the ring on her finger. Then we called people until both of our phones died; I freaked out because we hadn’t called everyone, and then we just gave up and put it on Facebook and prayed no one would get too upset.

That’s it! I’ll keep you updated here.

Wednesday night I was taken to dinner by Drew & Lawton, and then Tereva and Karima gave me cupcakes with a 2 and a 4 candle in them when the clock struck 12. I got a few (awesome) little presents, including a Superman Safety Light and a rocking mix CD.

By the time the next day itself (Thursday) was over, I had 107 emails in my inbox of people writing on my Facebook wall wishing me a happy birthday. Tereva cooked me dinner, and Karima photographed while I opened my present of a my new little friend named Jafar. You can ask about Jafar if you’d like.

Then, InterVarsity was a Community Night… and what I didn’t know is that a part of that was celebrating my birthday. Cake, a pie, cards, everyone singing to me… whoo boy, it was awesome.

My whole family called me individually, and my grandparents called and sang to me (a huge family tradition that is one of the things we look forward to most on birthdays). I was loved on, lavished with attention, and generally treated like a king.

This is the way to do a birthday. I felt bad once or twice for being so self-centered, but I had to push that down, because I wasn’t asking people to focus on me, and some times I just need to enjoy it when other people are being good to me.

And we discovered the real significance of turning 24: There are 24 candles in a pack of candles from the store. WOW!

Does turning 24 mean anything? I’m not asking this in a depressed way… just wondering. You know–18 vote, 21 drink, 25 lower car insurance. Any thoughts on 24?

I might make a list of the songs that mention being 24. I definitely have Switchfoot’s 24…