First is the Worst. [happy anniversary]

WARNING: this is about to be a sappy anniversary blog post. So if you're feeling angry and single come back another day. Otherwise, I'm going to try and sum up my first year of marriage in 1,000 words or less. 

First of all, I didn't sign up for this. 

When I got married I was under the impression that I was simply agreeing to combine life goals and bank accounts and maybe have a few bad days and some kids and a dog. 

That's not how it works. 

Second, can we please stop telling newlyweds that this is the "best year of marriage" - please?! 

Because that's not how it works either. 

It just makes me want to poke you in the eyes. Both eyes. 

A year ago today I married my best friend, and I said some really cute vows and I wore a pretty dress and I danced a lot. And I started out thinking I knew what I was getting into - and quickly discovered that I was absolutely clueless. 

I had no idea that I would be so miserable when we first moved away. 

I had no idea that Garrett actually expected to eat a real meal every single day- including weekends. 

I had no clue how to begin scheduling (juggling) bills, insurance and more bills. 

I had no idea that I was so incredibly bad at sharing, but I really am. I even have trouble sharing my toothbrush. 

I hadn't planned on having to actually work at marriage, because dating wasn't all that complicated. 

I had no idea how gross my husband is. He poops, people. And it smells. Also he doesn't clean off the sink when he shaves. 

I did not think that the human being I loved the most could make me so frustrated I would cry. He didn't know he could do that either. 

I thought we agreed on more things than we actually do, like whether or not paintball is a real sport, how awesome white comforters are or how many kids we're having (I swear he agreed to 10 while we were dating). 

Most shocking to me in my first year of marriage is that things do not always go as planned. 

I thought we were working towards mutual goals and sharing a bathroom. 

When I stood up there and I signed on for this marriage, things like broken appliances, emergency room visits, tight budgets, family Christmas and jobs that don't work out were not on my mind. Nowhere near my radar. 

I didn't expect it to be so hard to keep Christ at the center of my marriage but things like health care and Hulu Plus kept getting in the way. 

And sometimes I have to fight this utter selfishness I have over things like my time and my money and what temperature we keep the house at.

It's ridiculous. Because I stood up in church and promised to be faithful through all of these things for the rest of my life. And after one year I'm like- this is hard!!!

But I also thought I knew everything there was to know about Garrett LeVault. I did not, I'm sure I still don't. 

In my vows I explained that I had no idea how much Jesus loves me until Garrett loved me, but truthfully I still had no clue. 

This man has loved me through some ugly, scary, hard things this year.

Through homesickness and a second Freshman year in college, through fear and failure.

Through 2 moves and a lot of road trips. 

I have single handedly destroyed most of our wedding gifts, and he still lets me use the stove. 

I didn't think anyone could be funnier than me- but I've laughed more than I've cried this year. If he meant to make me laugh is a different matter. 

I thought that we loved each other at maximum capacity the day we got married but I had no clue. I love him more today than I did a year ago. 

I also didn't expect how precious it is to share a life with someone. To be a team and a family and to work together to be a living example of the Gospel. I didn't think we would have this much fun. 

It's been a really hard year. And it happened so fast. Things are different than they were a year ago, my expectations have changed, I have been humbled in ways I did not want to be and we have become a solid unit instead of two clueless kids. 

Whether you were there for the beginning or you're here at the end or if you've been riding this out with us all along- thanks for being a part of our first year. 

Now it's time for a brand new year. 

I love you Garrett LeVault.

With Love, 

Emily LeVault

P.S. It was mess day. Happy anniversary/welcome to my life as a youth ministers wife. 

11 Things I did not learn from a professor

So I graduated this month.

I GRADUATED THIS MONTH!!!!! 

And suddenly I'm feeling nostalgic and sappy, reflecting on the last 4 years. 

So these are my words of wisdom after 1,920 hours of sitting in a college class:

1. The grade you receive in this class does not define you as a person. Really. Just because you failed does not mean you are a failure. Just because you got straight A's and posted it on Facebook does not make any of us like you more. Secretly, I like you less. 

2. There are no assigned seats but don't sit in my seat. Don't sit in my seat. 

3. College guys are more afraid of you than you are of them. Kind of like spiders. Creepy, but easy to hit with a shoe. 

4. Make friends in every class. You're all stuck there together. Try to avoid the "adult learner" who asks too many questions. 

5. Sometimes all you need in life is Ramen, ice cream and Netflix. And a big comfy chair. 

6. Your roommates are probably not plotting to kill you or -much worse- eat your food. Probably. 

7. You don't have to drink the kool aid. Retain your personal beliefs and avoid being brainwashed by your professors. Because honestly they are overweight white guys with a few extra pieces of paper. Not God. 

8. There is so much more to life than what you are doing now. Right now you are trying to make sure the indentations are correct on your References page. There is a lot more to the universe my friend. 

9. Park strategically. 

10. College is not the point of life. So stop feeling like you have dishonored the ancestors just because you don't like it or you skipped class or you drop out. 

11. Community College is way underrated. At $89 per credit hour nobody puts Lincoln Land in a corner. 

And that's a wrap. #classof2015

With Love,

Emily LeVault

IKEA lied.

IKEA is a beautiful place. 

If you've never been, you'll just have to believe me. It's beautiful. There are floors upon floors of what a perfect house can look like. Perfect kitchen, perfect bedroom, perfect office-- just perfect. 

When we got married, I thought we were on track for the IKEA life. I mean sure, bad things happen to good people-- but if those good people also live in an awesome house with fluffy white towels... how bad can the bad stuff really be? 

IKEA convinced me that if I just registered for enough fluffy white towels, designer pots and pans, Apple TV and three spatulas, that life after marriage would be perfect. 

So, I registered us for the perfect life. I thought of everything we could ever possibly need and then about a hundred things we would never need. I convinced Garrett to let me have the most perfect apartment we could find with new paint and new carpet and vaulted ceilings -- all a part of the perfect equation. I had everything we needed for our life to look like an IKEA catalog, and all we had to do was get married and move in. Life was going to be perfect. 

IKEA lied. 

After we got married, life kept going.
Not in the perfect IKEA way I thought we were destined for, no. 
In the same way that Garrett and Emily had done life before. 

We had a beautiful set of pots and pans- that were not dishwasher safe. We discovered this after we put them through the dishwasher. 

We had fluffy white towels... until they got washed with one very bright blue towel. 

We had this awesome kettle that whistled and everything... until I lit it on fire. 

We had matching sugar and flour canisters... until they fell off of the fridge and shattered. 

We had an Apple TV remote... until it magically disappeared. 

We had a Keruig machine... until it spontaneously died. 

We had a blender... until it cracked up the side, mid-smoothie.

The list goes on: can opener, waffle maker, butter dish, Mac charger.

My point is... that the IKEA fairy never showed up in the LeVault household and life kept being life.

We're moving back to Illinois in a few weeks.

We've prayed about this decision for months. We've labored over it, pros and cons, back and forth. This is what we know is right for our family, this is where God's leading us. But this is not what I had planned. This was not part of my IKEA-perfect life.

When we got here I was surprised to find that instead of perfect, I was heartbroken, lonely and homesick. And after a few months of that, I started to wonder why on earth God had brought us to Fort Wayne, Indiana. 

I still can't tell you why. 

I do know that while we were here, God taught us a lot. 

While we were here I had to take a giant dose of humility by becoming a college freshman again, and cleaning up vomit professionally. 

While we were here God gave us a small group to do life with.

While we were here I learned to rely on Garrett. 

Today is my last day of work; I keep crying about it and laughing too. If you had told me nine months ago that I would mourn leaving Fort Wayne I would have laughed at you. But God changed my heart, He gave me people who love me and a place to belong. And miracle of all miracles,  I'm finding it hard to say goodbye.

IKEA was so wrong. You do have to pay for electricity. And my house has never looked like the catalog. But this way is better. I get to watch God being so much bigger than the hard, imperfect things in life. Honestly, I am wrecked over what He has done, how He has blessed us, how things have lined up and the timing that has brought us to this moment. 

It is time for us to go. Goodbyes are hard, and plans have changed. 

But I am so thankful for a God who shows Himself in the brokenness of my imperfect life. 

This past weekend Garrett left for a paintball expedition in the woods (let that sink in). As I was getting ready for bed I noticed a lone bright orange toothbrush sitting on our bathroom counter... mine was nowhere to be found. 

As we come to the end of this adventure in Fort Wayne, I'm not sure what to say. God has done amazing things here. None of them were what I had planned. How perfect is that. 

With Love,

Emily LeVault

$7.40 an hour

Have I mentioned that I love my job? I mean I love my job.

Which is a little strange, because I make a whopping $7.40 an hour for mostly changing diapers, picking up the same toy 12 times, and preventing toddler suicide.

But all the same... I love this job.

Believe it or not, I have some really bad days. I get bad grades on exams that I don't study for, I don't make it to classes, I have a messy house, and there are a lot of situations that I cannot control or predict at the moment.

But man, am I good at child wrangling.
There are days that I just need to know that I am good at something - even if that something is wiping noses, reading Cat in Hat and sanitizing toy dinosaurs.

I wanted to share this with you, but I'm pretty sure I'd have to pay you much more than $7.40 an hour to come and see it for yourself - so I will bring Child Watch to you.

My favorite moments are when words come out of my mouth, and then I look at my coworkers like - "In what world should I be saying that?" 

For example:

"Please stop licking the floor."

"Take your hands out of your pants."

"Take that car out of your mouth."

"Stop playing in the toilet."

"Did you throw up in the box of dinosaurs?"

"Stop hanging on the door."

"Stop climbing in the windows."

"Do not eat the crayons! You will puke!"

"Please stop licking the window."

"Have you seen this baby's thighs?"

"Put your dress down."

"Pull your pants up."

"Did you pee in your shoes?"

"Please stop licking your brother."

"Yo sé que usted está jurando en español."

"Is that poop? No, he just puked up brown crayons."

"No, I can't marry your dad."

"I am not your mom."

"No, I will not take your children home for the weekend."

This place is crazy. It is made for crazy people. Small crazy people. And I've realized this month (sadly enough it did take me this long) that this place is where I do ministry.

There are kids that come to the Y for their only hug that day, there are little girls who don't have moms to braid their hair, there are parents who feel like no one else cares about their "difficult" kid, and there are foster kids who hate where they live.

A lot of people are looking to be loved in Child Watch. And sometimes I am 1000000000% there and I'm ready to go, but some days I am tired and I am grouchy and I don't want to pick up any more vomit.

Last week I was talking to a toddler, I was saying something about how pretty her hair was and then this little girl named Emery pipes up "Am I pretty too?" And then I remembered: little girls are listening.

I can't control what happens to Emery any where else, all day long. I can't even decide if she is ever going to come back to Child Watch, or if I'm going to see her tomorrow. But I get to love her while she's with me. Of all the crazy things I say all day long, more of them should be out of crazy love.

I don't know where you work, and I don't know how you feel about your job - but I am positive there are people you are over looking. There are people who need to be loved. Chances are the people you work with are not adorable six year olds, I'm guessing they are a little more difficult. But I encourage you to start looking for them. It will make your job way awesome.

Even if your job is toddler suicide prevention.

With Love,

Emily LeVault

28 Mondays

 

     

February was a month full of Mondays.

Like, horrible-early-way-too-sunny Mondays. 

Somehow we struggled through - our good humor still intact. 
But just in case you ever run into a Monday, or a Tuesday (Monday's ugly sister),
here are 28 things guaranteed to get you through:

1. Dunkin Donuts Coffee. Dear Anonymous Reader... I love you. And every time I got a coffee this month I was reminded of you, sweet Coffee Angel. Thank you for your encouragement- it arrived with impeccable timing. I think it was a Monday...

2. A blanket scarf. 2 yards of pure flannel; and suddenly it's publicly acceptable for you to carry your blanket to class. 

3. A big dumb dog. Preferably the kind that like to snuggle. Mine has to be sedated before we can snuggle. 

4. Watch Garrett eat sushi. Especially for the first time, in front of strangers. It's a hilarious mix between polite and nauseous.

5. Wear your lucky underwear. No one else has to know, but you'll know. All Monday long.

6. Spend your grocery money on Scentsy. You'll be hungry, but you'll smell good.

7. Rent movies from the library. Because they're free. Unless you forget to return it. 

8. Dance. Dance like no one is watching. But first, seriously-- make sure no one is watching. 

9. Pinterest.

10. Grab your friends and get to the nearest Mexican restaurant. Run, don't walk.

11. Watch 5 episodes of The Office in a row. We recommend 

• "Classy Christmas" 
• "The Injury" 
• "Goodbye, Toby" 
• "Scott's Tots" and of course please please please watch: 
• "Diversity Day". Please.

12. Call in sick. We know you're not sick. Your motivation is just feeling a bit under the weather. Best not to spread those germs ;)

13. Treat-yo-self at Walmart. Every kind of Ben and Jerry's and all those $5 movies that are already on Netflix. 

14. Take a nap. Babies and cats and old people know where it's at-- take a nap. 

15. Peruse through AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com. I learned this one from Robey Smith. Guaranteed to make anything you're going through feel normal.

16. Wear a hat. 'Cause your day 3 hair is nobody's business but yours.  

17. Buy the cupcakes. Do you need the cupcakes? No. But Mondays are tough and cupcakes are good.

18. Just cry it out, man. If you need help getting started, watch a few episodes of Parks and Recreation. Ron Swanson will have you weeping buckets by Season 4. 

19. Go ahead and binge watch every Jane Austen movie ever made. Trust me, you'll feel much better.

20. Buy something from Jen Daisy. Also just discovering that they now have a website... that always helps the Monday Blues. [jendaisy.com]

21. Manage to get a mild concussion. You get ice cream and sympathy out of the deal, but no permanent brain damage. 

22. Listen to Taylor Swift. I know you haters gonna hate, but then you're gonna get in your car and sing along. 

23. Make yourself laugh. Maybe its just me... but I am hilarious. I just can't stop laughing long enough to tell you why. 

24. Eat breakfast for dinner. Chances are your Monday morning wasn't all that bacon-filled, and you should fix that. 

25. Phone a friend. A good friend, who isn't gloomy or realistic. This is not the time for realistic friends.

26. Watch this video: Ultimate Dog Tease

27. 
             

28. And finally, remember this: you're never alone on a Monday. Or even through a month of them.

"So let’s not allow ourselves to get tired of doing what is good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit. Right now, therefore, every time we get the chance, let us work for the benefit of all, starting with the people closest to us in the community of faith." 
Galatians 6:9-10

"Keep a cool head. Stay alert. The Devil is poised to pounce, and would like nothing better than to catch you napping. Keep your guard up. You’re not the only ones plunged into these hard times. It’s the same with Christians all over the world. So keep a firm grip on the faith. The suffering won’t last forever. It won’t be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ—eternal and glorious plans they are!—will have you put together and on your feet for good. He gets the last word; yes, he does." 1 Peter 5:8-11

I'm encouraged in knowing that your Mondays suck too. 
Thank you for fighting the good fight, even on bad days. 

And don't worry: Friday is coming. 

With Love,
Emily LeVault

Tbh. [To be honest]

I just need to put this out there.... this week is trying to kill me.

I'm being serious.


Since about Sunday at 8:00 am to right this second, things have been going wonky.

We fought the good fight over the Church Budget.
 I started school, I dropped about five classes and scrambled to rearrange and find five more in the final hours of registration. I hate my classes.
 All of the people in my major have been friends for four years and I know absolutely no one.

 I'm in 2nd year 2nd semester Spanish.
That is a place I do not belong.
 Remember that feeling you used to get when it was Mile Day in P.E. class in third grade, when you were mentally willing yourself to throw up or fall down the stairs so you didn't have to run? That's how Spanish class makes me feel.

 My work schedule has been crazy, with more bathroom mishaps than I have been witness to in the last four months combined. I had to explain to my boss that I would not be showing up for my shift because my classes got rearranged, I locked my wallet in Child Watch when I closed on Tuesday.

I ate rotten lettuce, I've caught myself staring at other people's cups of coffee, Jimmy Johns does NOT deliver to my address, I got to Wal-Mart and realized I had no purse and no wallet, we got a notice from the landlord, I wasn't in Springfield for my Grandpa's surgery, Daniel would quite frankly be ashamed of the way I'm eating and my battery was dead this morning.

I've had the kind of week that makes you want to crawl back into bed until it passes-- except, yesterday my dog peed on my bed.... so there goes that plan.

I've missed my first class this morning, only to discover homework that I didn't do, online forums I have no idea how to access and another 11 hours before I can go home. I'm starting to consider moving into the bathtub... Luke hates the bathtub.

All the while under all of these tiny things there's this big answer Garrett and I are waiting for. Obviously I'm doing a bang-up job of waiting well.

How does one wait well? I wouldn't know, ask my husband.

I was going to post at the end of the week but I'm so scared that if I wait any longer more things will go wrong.

I think I might have brought this all on myself by informing you all that we are confident and content to wait for God's answers. He decided to test how true that actually was.

Here's the truth: everyday this week, multiple times a day,  a cry of impatience and frustration comes out of my heart. I want to know now. If I just had the answers, everything else would be easier. But still no answer.

I've made a few New Year's resolutions because I'm weak and so very mainstream: lose weight, go to the gym, read my Bible-- the usual things. But that means that on all of these bad days I've been able to cling to God's Word; I am holding onto His promises. He has overcome the world, he cares for my anxiety, and because of Jesus he hears me when I pray sad, impatient prayers.

I have to tell you the good parts of this week too; I've been doing my best to see them.

I got into all of the classes I needed and Lord willing I am going to graduate this summer. Holy Cow. What an unexpected gift. I thought it would be at least another two years. But at the last minute my advisor called to let me know I was 2 credits short, and I was able to get into a class that was already full in order to get those credits. Whoa.

I got to talk to my sister for 45 minutes this week. It's been a long time.

The people I work with rock.

My awesome husband left work to switch me cars this morning.

I had a cup of coffee today.

This week is almost over.

I'm being honest with you because I am still confident God is going to answer us. If I keep it together and never let you in on my junk, you and I will both miss out on what God is doing and what he is going to do.

So here it is-- this is my life status today.

I'm about to be late to class.
I'm counting down the hours until Saturday.
But I am content to wait-- uncomfortable and unsettled-- still confident in God's plan for us.

With Love,

Emily LeVault

37 things I learned this year

It's been a crazy day and a very full year. I have exactly 8 hours to capture and summarize that in a blog post...and no idea how to say it. 

So here are 37 things that I learned this year:

1. How to be a good long distance friend.

2. A wonderful technique for picking up dog poop.

3. How to save a choking baby.

4. How to start a blog

5. How to be a 22 year old freshman in college

6. How to legally change my name

7. Weddings never really go according to plan.

8. At any age, it is hard to leave your mom.

9. How quickly grocery money seems to disappear

10. The skill of packing and moving.

11. Snapchatting.

12. The value of a new hair do.

13. How to live with someone who uses your toothbrush.

14. How to make gravy.

15. I discovered dry shampoo.

16. The best way to get from Illinois to Indiana.

17. I do not like to fly.

18. How to make adult friends.

19. Dunkin Donuts is actually better than Starbucks.

20. How to knit.

21. Settlers of Catan. 

22. How to say goodbye.

23. Sometimes you just have to live with missing people.

24. It is illegal for me to carry a taser.

25. No one should live through winter without flannel sheets.

26. Finally rocked walking in high heels.

27. Garrett hates taking pictures with me.

28. Weddings are expensive.

29. The invention of the Grocery Clip changed my life.

30. How to build a tent... in the living room no less.

31. How to dodge jury duty on the week of your wedding.

32. How to passively aggressively retaliate against noisy downstairs neighbors.

33. Halloween will hereafter always be Harry Potter Day.

34. How to get both a husband and a dog through training at Petsmart.

35. Travel via Amtrak.

36. Diplomatically deal with people who don't like your husband.

37. How to leave home, transfer schools, quit a job, get a job,  be married, move everything, lose friends, leave friends, make friends and how much I appreciate my mom. 

My heart is full. We've been so loved and so challenged and so supported. This has been a hard year, I don't want to sugar coat that. There have been a lot of changes and pressures and days I wasn't sure I could live through. A lot has changed, and more will change before this time next year; but we are confident in our God and content to wait for His timing in 2015. Thank you for being a part of my year.

See you next year,

-- Emily LeVault