Converse named Freedom

My body was craving exercise today. The last few weeks have been lazily passing by and I decided to stretch these ol legs of mine. I walked out the door with my ear buddies, R properly in the right ear and L properly in my left.

I briskly walked to where I would be in the sunshine and my nose tickled once the warmth hit it. The tune was to the beat of my favorite new band and my feet skipped along. I began to ramp up to start on a little jog when I looked down...and realized I had never changed into my running shoes. My smudged and flat footed converse were definitely not going to be much help for this trip. 

I smiled. Then laughed. Because only I would be spacey enough to not even look at my feet before going on a run.

But then I realized some freedom bursting through the pity I was having on my silly artsy brain. This is who I am. And that is enough to celebrate. For so much of my life  I have stayed within the walls that every single person around me have drawn with their purple crayon. Unless my name is Harold, I don't belong in that purple box. 

'this is smart, this is wise, this is admirable, you are a yellow and blue personality, you should enjoy these books, listening to NPR is essential for being an informed citizen, Christians do this because that's what they've always done, the best kind of travel is organized church work, your wedding needs these specific events and in this order, your marriage won't survive unless you pray together every night, you're probably allergic to this and this,' and ON and ON and ON. My life has been one big craft of tacky glue and popsicle sticks of obligation. 

 Subtly and slowly my identity has been shaped. Not because of what people have told me, but because I took heart and listened to those things...

So back to my obligated run. 

At first I undoubtedly was frustrated I either had to go back and get my running shoes or just walk. But then I realized I hated running anyways. My hips and knees hurt. My timer is just the molasses tick of death by wheezing and my mind always tried to overcome the pain so I could do my "20 minutes a day of cardio". So I walked and never looked at the time. And I took big deep breaths of Autumn air. I sang out loud. I skipped on the boulders that outlined the road like a 4 year old who can't stay on task. And I sat on the grass till I was bored and started walking home. 

Each minute was exhilarating just being God's child in a world He created so I would feel loved. I would definitely call it a date...and boy am I learning to enjoy the moments with Him when my heart just grows right out of my chest and I feel joy for who He made me. 

I am on the journey of freeing my soul. I have lived in a cage where the door was flung open forever ago and yet my fear glued me to the bottom of my own prison. Fear of not being respected or wise or making someone around me upset by who I was or what I thought. 

So don't be surprised if I tell a bad joke and then laugh at myself. Eat chocolate for breakfast. Lay in bed and let my mind wander until I literally don't have a minute more to spare. Enjoy a little coffee with my whip cream. Mismatch my outfit because it was fun. Or you know, visit somewhere amazing and never come home. 

                                                           Humbled and Happy, 
                                                                        ApplePie

For the Love of Cookin'

Today was my day off. Yesssssssss! Therefore I jumped out of bed at 8 o'clock, shimmied into a floral frock, primped and curled and then earnestly tied off my lace-trimmed apron ready to begin my housewife work. Juuuust kidding, if my life was that perfect for even a second I might not know what grace is :)

The rephrasing might go like this: I woke up at 5:30 as Oldspice left me alone to a queen sized bed and the relief of not being an hour into my work day washed over me. So I snuggled back in and dozed off an on till about 8:30. I have had a grass-fed rump roast waiting patiently in my freezer for a couple weeks now and I decided today was the day of its fate: Dinner! And if dinner was to be served it has to be cooked, therefore T minus 10 hours would be about the time I get my half-dressed self out of bed. I dragged sleepiness to my freezer and stared blankly at the package of meat when I realized I have never cooked a crock-pot meal by myself before.

It is in these instances that my generation pulls out their handy dandy smarter-then-gosh-knows-what technology and asks the google gods how to cook a rump roast. Which I did. I began searing this precious piece of meat I got for a steal at the discount grocery store. "Wait a minute, what do I do with this elastic twine that wraps the entire piece of rump?!?" I didn't have to cook long before the twine started untying itself between the scorching heat the the 2 pounds of butt weighing down upon it.

On to slicing and dicing some carrots and potatoes. I threw them into the little crocker of a pot and pinched some salt pepper and thyme in there as well (thyme haha, no understatement!) I finished it off with some broth etc, and then nestled my masterpiece of hopes and fears in with the pile of dishes on the counter and plugged it in. In my head I was narrating this post so ran as quickly as possible back into bed and hunkered down to let these words out. My kitchen is a disaster, but ya know what? Married life is awesome because you get your OWN kitchen and nobody has to see the mess but you...hoooray! Finally I can begin to embrace my messy tendencies (as long as it's cleaned before the husband gets home.)

All this to say I couldn't be happier with where God has me right now. Who would have known that deep down in my soul I would enjoy satisfying a man's hungry tummy so much? Call me old fashioned but I say I am exploring the feminine qualities God instilled in my heart when I was being woven together. And ladies, as married women I think we have been given the wonderful ministry of the home! I firmly believe God made us equal, but equally different with our own tendencies and dreams. Lord knows how much we all enjoy food and I think my new love is exciting new collaborations of ingredients. I have hardly cooked since leaving home several years ago and it's about time I got down and sticky, floury, salty, and spicy..

There must be some truth to the ol saying "a way to a man's heart is through his stomach" because the delight on his face is the best part of all the work :)

We cannot help but be the most grateful for our own place. I never thought I could care less about the neighbors who make our house smell like mj at certain hours of the day. Or the fact that I have to walk outside and down to the basement to do a load of laundry. Or even that we park on the street because we only get one parking pass. I love our 500 square feet of home and wouldn't trade anything to live there with my husband. Lord help me to never get petty but always be content! And always get excited to take on the adventure of a crock pot dinner.

That's the very latest from these newlyweds, tune in for more from the heart later.

                                        Love,
                                          Applepie

Cheeers to New Beginnings!

Weddings....Perhaps the most ridiculously hyped, expensive, and emotional roller coaster ride of one's life! And yet? Still the happiest day of my life by far. I plan to write about every detail of this journey but first want to prelude with the beginnings of our two souls colliding for my first entry to this fresh blog.

Benjamin and I met in high school theater. If drama is not already one of the most ridiculous parts of highschool...add THEATER to that equation. And better yet? HOMESCHOOLERS. You get the picture, we thought we were the most swankified and pious people you knew and our LIFE revolved around...well ourselves. We were all going to be the tightest knit friends till we looked of prunes of course. And there in the midst of my senior year I met Benjamin Taylor McMillan. He was a cool cat and way more hip then the rest of us so I thought he was cute and went on my pretty little way to missionary school that next fall, not even dreaming what would happen the next year.

I came home after serving in Ireland and was on most "spiritual high" I had ever experienced before. It was soooo high that I came crashing down under the reality of life when theater friends now had there own inside jokes, etc and I just missed all my sweet times living abroad in a mysteriously foreign land. In time I became more depressed and when my troupe decided to do a performance over the Summer I hopped on board, hoping to find some purpose in what I loved so much!

One day after work I biked across town to rehearsal. Therefore smelling like some serious body odor I sprayed myself down with some apple pie body spray. Weelll, fun fact about Ben...he ALWAYS smelled like Old Spice and it was quite nice. As he stood there laughing at what I was doing we put two and two together and became "Old Spice and Apple Pie" and it has stuck ever since; rather WE have stuck every since. It was there in the hall way at one of the rehearsals that I plopped down next to Ben and we started talking about his artwork. We started casually chatted about our churches and music and slowly over the warm months grew a friendship. I gave him my number not even thinking twice and soon received a phone call...

"Hello?"

"Hi Shelby this is Ben."

"Oh Hi what's up?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to call you."

"...Sweet." 0_0

In my pain and sadness Ben tried swooping in to be my hero and we crashed and burned into an odd couple of a relationship. Him with his angry music and me with my hopelessness. We were bitter rebels for quite some time (you probably know the ones: piercings, the most colorless outfits and of course that good 'ol 'tude), but we held on to each other with all the strength we had. God knew. He was there with us the whole time and there are moments I wonder how we didn't fall apart.. but then our Father picked our broken hearts up and began to piece us back together. He loves to do that I am learning :).

We were hungry for friendships and purpose and a new church was everything Benjamin and I needed. Vintage City Church welcomed us with open hearts and homes and though I spent a year bawling in the back of the church each service I was healing and so was Ben.

We sought counseling and love. Before you knew it marriage became a realistic and serious goal of the near future. So we prayed...and dreamed and dreamed. Mostly of not having to say goodbye, get into an icy cold car and drive home. One. More. Time. And you probably can guess the rest of this pretty little fairy tale. Benjamin put on his big boy pants and approached my dad with the question of..."Can I marry her?"...and so this marriage journey would begin.(Let's be real, we all know it was way more complicated then I can write in one little blog post. However, you get the idea...two hearts, we fell and love and what can we say?!)

Tune in next time. My dream is to simply blog about the simple little things in life that really are big things to be thankful to God for and encourage you all to share your own hearts with this world. I believe Jesus just smiles when we do that. And I'm giving Him all the glory for the McMillan family coming into being!

Soulful Love,
Shelby

p.s. The Old and the New!