what. a. month.

This past month has been amazing, and that adjective itself fails to encapsulate all I feel behind my ribs. Things with Mandy are going great. I love her, I really do. There’s no doubt or question in my mind that I love her. It isn’t a sophomoric love, nor is it a euphoric love (though there is indeed much joy, smiling, and a glowing and growing affection). This love goes beyond anything I’ve “felt” before, giving birth to an immovable and irrevocable determination to share life with her, serve with her, lead her and love her, even to die to myself for her benefit and well-being. Our relationship is so phenomenal not simply because I’m actually with her (after five years of hoping and praying, not a day passes when it doesn’t feel surreal in the best possible way), but also because our relationship is so different than any relationship I’ve been in before. We’re keeping Christ at the center of our relationship, praying together, reading scripture together, learning together, growing together. It’s beautiful, it’s awesome, so rich and so meaningful. This feels RIGHT, and I have peace and confidence about it. She’s my best friend, and I love her with everything in me. I want to make memories with her, day after day, and grow old with her, to serve Christ alongside her. And that’s precisely what I’m planning on doing, and the journey is already underway.

I’m moving up to Wisconsin to be with her at the end of this summer (or beginning of autumn; haven’t picked out an exact date yet). I’ve been working as much as possible, picking up permanent shifts here-and-there and gobbling up any open shifts I can find. This week alone I’m working sixteen hours on top of the usual gauntlet. I’m pouring money into my “Go be with Mandy forever” savings account. Moving up there will be amazing, and it will also be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. But I’m eager to embrace the difficulty for her and for us. I’ve kept her hometown on my weather app, and since I’ve had such difficulty in the arctic temperatures here in Cincinnati, I know it will be more than an adjustment moving into frigid Wisconsin; I saw a map of the United States where each state was named according to its greatest stereotype, and Wisconsin’s name was “COLD”. I have a list of things I’ll have to buy, including double-layered socks, bundles of long-johns, geeky sweaters, and some *fashionable* winter hats (note: I don’t pull off hats very well). I’ll also need to buy a winter coat that doesn’t make me look like a turtle (more for her benefit in social settings than my own preferences). This is what I’m talking about (ca January 2010):

Yeah. NOT fashionable