Our Wedding (In Pictures): My First Thank-You Note!

Phil and I are married. Eeeeeeep!

 (This is us, all married and such.)

I'm sorry--I know so much happiness can be sort of sickening--but this is just wild. Thank you, Jesus, for heaping all these blessings on me. I don't deserve it!

Our vintage-y little picnic wedding was perfect because it embraced the spirit of community. The whole celebration was put together through the graciousness (and craftiness!) of so many people! It would take pages and pages to document everything. But I'll mention a few gifts that my mom happened to snap a picture of:

• The flower brigade. Here they are, hard at work! My dad and friends picked up some Subway sandwiches for everyone, and then we all got to work, cutting stems, arranging flowers, and sticking them into those little green sponges--big flowers in the middle! Thank you to everyone for sharing your secret florist talents.

• The set-up crew! Putting together a DIY wedding is not easy--I'm just astounded by how selfless and caring everyone was, offering their help by moving picnic tables, hanging the colorful flags that my mom and her friends hand-sewed, writing on chalkboards and draping tulle, setting out plates and centerpieces, even tidying up the shelter bathrooms! Holy moly.

Studly table-movers. ;)

The crafters!

Eeeek! I can't believe all this was going on while I was just feeling 

excited/nervous and fixing my hair. Hahaha. Such wonderful friends.

• This girl!

 

 Seriously, Courtney Guenther is a woman of about a zillion talents. Let's see.....she put together the bouquets, did my makeup, fixed the girls' hair, and used an earring post and a teeny pair of scissors to poke a hole through the leather straps of my sandals, basically saving my life.  

•  Every single person who brought delicious food to share. Not to mention the amazing pie-bakers--Karen, Megan, Sharon, and all the girls--who set up shop at the Biller household. Mmmm. Potluck weddings FTW. I will forever remember the taste of that strawberry ganache pie. 

(This beautiful photo was taken by Lauren Thacker! She also took a gorgeous close-up shot of our vows that we will probably get framed someday.)

• All the people who made our ceremony so perfect!

My brother Davy and his girlfriend Lauren did the readings. They're a super sweet, fun 

couple, and they're amazing together (even despite my bro's oddness! lol.) It meant so much 

to have my bro and my hopefully-future sister take part in the ceremony, and it was even more meaningful because they are a Christ-seeking couple, too!
 *

Yuliya married us! She is such an inspiring woman, and Phil and I were honored

to be the first couple she's ever married. She filled the ceremony with wisdom and joy.

 The Krause Family Band played beautiful folksy music. I am basically their biggest fan.

There are so many others to thank, too! I just described the things that come with pictures, mostly. But the list goes on: there's our lovely photographers Sarah and Kimberly, Erik with his ballin' DJ stylings, and Jimmy and Nicole, grillers extraordinaire! 

And of course, our parents. My goodness. Phil and I are so blessed to have been raised by people who love us so much. Our families are the best, and they helped so selflessly on "The Big Day" (as some might call it).

 I am now one of the Biller clan!

Love my daddy, so much.

I guess that's the end of this little photo essay. Thank you so much for everyone who helped, showed up, and celebrated with us! We love you!

We Love Midnight Brunch!

Tonight I'm making my babe some French toast. Three courses of gourmet French toast, to be exact. He was craving some today, but then he had to run off to work. Wheee! I love surprising him.

Sadly, my first-ever attempt at making my own whipped cream ended in disaster. I know, I know. It's just cream and sugar mixed together. But everything happened so fast! I'm pretty sure the Sunbeam mixer my mom got me is the most powerful mixer on earth. Luckily there was some Cool Whip in the fridge, waiting loyally for its time to shine. I'll just have to let the trashcan enjoy this weird, creamy, buttery coagulation. Yuck.

Here is the "Lindy's Blobby Bistro" (don't ask, haha) menu for my babe:

First Course: Pumpkin-Chocolate French Toast. Basically, I added pumpkin puree and a few spices to the traditional egg-milk-vanilla mixture. Then I drizzled just a little bit of chocolate syrup over the top.

Second Course: Bananas Foster French Toast. I made regular French toast and cooked banana slices in a separate skillet with a homemade sauce of brown sugar, melted butter, and water. I thought about adding a few plum slices on the side, just because there was a yummy-looking ripe plum in the fridge. But it's probably better without it.

Third Course: Cinnamon French Toast with Strawberries and Cream. Mmm.

(I strive to emulate Plow!!!)

So excited for Phil to get home from work! And not just because I'm getting hungry. That fiance of mine is truly the strongest, kindest, most humble, and most fun man I know. He follows Christ and strives to better himself in everything he does. And I am so ready to share some midnight brunch with him.

Don't Worry....Be Happy

Honesty time: there are so many insecurities in my life right now. Also, so much grace and healing.

Since my last post, I've settled in at my new job. I work at a hospice IPU as a "unit assistant," which basically means "unit clerk/glorified receptionist." I take care of everything from answering call lights to notifying housekeeping because a visiting puppy got so excited that it peed on the carpet (oops). I also smile at people and try to look cute. It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it.

There's just something strange about going from a well-paying, intellectually challenging (if emotionally crushing) job to a part-time support role. At Epic, I was constantly busy, stressed, and fatigued. Now, I'm surrounded by sweet coworkers and life is relatively stress-free, but I also make less than half of my former paycheck.

I wouldn't have been able to make the switch if not for my fiance, Phil.

(This is us. I love him more than life.)

Phil is an RN at the same place I work. In fact, he encouraged me to apply there. This is perfect--we often work the same shifts, and he looks SO SEXY (blush) running around in his scrubs, taking care of people and being an amazing nurse.

But it's a big adjustment for me to have to depend so fully on another person to make ends meet. If not for Phil, I would've had only two options:

1. Stay at Epic until I found another high-paying job, to keep up with student loans.
2. Move back to Warren and stay with my parents.

The latter wasn't really an option--not only because I'm too independent (and maybe have a teeny bit too much pride, which I'm trying to work on), but also because Madison is my new home, at least for now. Home has become wherever my soon-to-be husband happens to be.

Thanks to my babe, I was able to leave a terrible, wrong-for-me job and go somewhere that makes me feel like I'm pouring myself into something, like I matter. Phil is definitely the "breadwinner" now, and he's a whiz at finances--it's just crazy. He's incredibly organized and smart about our spending plan, but he also embraces my spontaneity and shows such generosity toward others AND toward me (what's the good in giving to others if you don't give to your own family?)

Every now and then, I wonder if I should feel bad about not working in a more challenging job, after being valedictorian in high school and getting top marks (except for one pesky statistics class) at a really good university. It feels like my brain has sort of atrophied since college, like my intelligence is slowly declining. In high school I aced advanced placement calculus; now I answer the phones. I don't actually feel bad, but I do wonder if this is the right path. At low points, I guess it's a little frustrating that I'm not using my skills or being compensated at the level I could probably achieve.

But really, I am using my gifts, my God-given skills--just not the quantifiable ones. I'm loving others, treating them with genuine respect and compassion, and adding my personality to the mix at a workplace that literally deals with life and death. My coworkers are just awesome people, and I get to interact every day with patients and families who are on the cusp of a journey's end, who find themselves tangled up in complex emotions--unthinkable pain, heartbreaking love, even (hopefully) a sense of closure or relief. That is an unusual job, to say the least. And that's where God has called me.

Also, the change in finances has humbled me like crazy. It's easy for us, as sinful, well-meaning people, to start feeling as though we deserve more money. As though we're entitled to it. But really, not a single cent of that money is mine. It's all a blessing, a gift. And it means I have to trust God, rather than my own steam, to provide for my needs. These verses from Matthew 6 speak to my soul:

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear . . . Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or stow away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you now much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?"

So much wisdom here. Jesus knows our hearts, but he also cares deeply about our physical well-being. This means a lot to me, because I tend to be a worrier. During my stint at Epic, I saw the effects of worry firsthand. And the way God worked through the situation (a story that won't fit in this blog post) is a huge testament to his love and faithfulness.

(Happy. This life is a blessing. Also, baby squids are cute.)

"See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is throw into the fire, will he not much more clothe you--you of little faith? So do not worry, saying 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself."

More on this later. But for now, I'll just say: Amen, Lord.

Pushing My Comfort Zone: Punny Image Included!

There's something so liberating about starting over in a new place.

When I moved to Madison at the end of May, it was a little scary to not know anyone. But it was the best feeling, too. My parents drove the 7 hours from Detroit and helped me move into my studio apartment. We explored the city a little bit (though we never strayed toward the capitol . . . my dad seems to resist downtown).

Then they left, and that was it. This was my new apartment, my new city, my new life.

I loved it. So, so much.

I remember going to Target for some groceries--I wouldn't hear about Woodman's existence for at least another couple months. I came home, opened the screen door to my little patio, sipped from a cold can of Sierra Mist, and just let it all sink in. It was a sunny eighty-degree day. I was in a brand new place, where no one even knew my name.

It was beyond beautiful.

I mean, it's not like I was running away from something. I loved Ann Arbor, and I loved college. Walking away from my Ann Arbor apartment for the last time, I had to blink back tears. There were also a few nights in Madison when I cried just from loneliness. Y'know, it happens.

But I can also see when change is for the better. With this new chapter came so many possibilities. No one here knew I was intelligent and studious, or completely silly, or that I smiled and laughed too much. No one here knew the things I loved.

It was so exciting, the first time I went to the Journey. I didn't know a single person, but they all seemed awesome. For the next several weeks, I challenged myself to always accept invitations, to always reach out and be a part of any social situation that came up.

At the same time, I cherished the freedom to be truly independent and answer only to God and myself.

Everything has changed again. The freedom of total independence and anonymity has been replaced by the freedom of something better--and that was part of how I knew that Phil was different from anyone else I'd ever met. In general, I'm an outgoing introvert: I need to be alone in order to truly refresh. But with Phil, from the very beginning, I would always rather be with him.

Now I'm challenging myself again. I've really settled in and gotten comfortable in Madison. In a few months, I'll be married. I think I'm letting this stifle my social, independent personality. While I've met some truly awesome girl friends in Madison, I wish I could spend more time with them and find a closeness similar to what I felt with my best friends in college.

So again, I'm challenging myself to always accept invitations--and to take initiative and plan hang-outs with friends, too. Maybe I'm tired from work, or I'd rather just stay at home and write. (This actually happens a LOT.) But nothing will change if I don't push my comfort zone.

First Little Blog Post

Choosing a domain name is always fun . . . until you realize that every obvious choice (lindysblog, for example) or even every not-so-obvious choice (such as roadkillkitty) is already taken.

As I was sitting at my kitchen table, struggling to come up with something original, my eyes fell on the fresh-cut flowers in a little blue vase on the tabletop. So that's what this blog is called! Lilacs and peonies are my favorite flowers of all time--sometimes I'll literally stop on the sidewalk to smell lilac blossoms. But roses, tulips, and sunflowers all come in at a close second, and they're definitely easier to obtain from the flower shop.

This is similar to how I came up with my aol screenname, instant_maple: I was sitting in my dorm room, tearing open a packet of Quaker's instant maple oatmeal, when the computer told me to pick a username.

As my first post, here is a little something to get you through the day:

Teacup pig!!!! Phil is such a wonderful fiance--after I revealed my helpless adoration for these little guys, he researched them for me. Apparently, getting a teacup pig as a pet can run you up to $1000. :( A little more expensive than a golden retriever. But maybe we'll find a stray teacup pig on a street corner or in the kennel somewhere.

FYI: The girl who stole lindysblog.blogspot.com has not posted anything since 2005. Just sayin'.