engagement

Shine Bright Like a Diamond

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I’ve been ignoring it for months—this diamond that’s lost its sparkle. One of 12 small stones that encircle the diamond at the center of my engagement ring, this particular little diamond doesn’t shine like the others.

For a while, I assumed my ring just needed a good cleaning. Surely there was some debris or build-up caught in the setting that was preventing the light from shining through—dimming the diamond’s brilliance. But the professional cleaning only made the dull diamond stand out starkly against its radiant neighbors.

As I handed the ring back to the cleaner to have him examine the stone under his jeweler’s loupe, I knew there must be something wrong.

“Hmm,” he murmured as he rotated the ring under the light of his lamp. “Yes, the diamond is definitely chipped.”

My stomach sank. “But how?”

“See right here?” He handed the ring back to me. “I can even see it just with my own eyes. Right here.” He pointed to the spot where the diamond had chipped, just below the surface. “Diamonds are very hard substances, but sometimes if you hit them just at the right spot…”

“I can’t believe it. I’ve only had it two years.”

“It happens, and it’s more common than you’d think,” he said, clearly trying to ease the guilt I was feeling right then. “Because it’s chipped down here, the light isn’t getting through, and the diamond has lost its brilliance.”

He gave me a quote to replace the diamond and assured me he could have it back to me within a few days. I thanked him for his time and said I’d get back to him.

As I left the shop and stepped out into the light, all I could see was this diamond that wouldn’t sparkle. A diamond without its brilliance.

Some might call this pessimism. Why focus on what’s wrong? Why not just focus on the beauty of the other diamonds? But I see it as optimism. Why leave something broken when it can be repaired? Why not bring this beautiful ring back to wholeness?

This ring still brings me joy whenever it catches my eye. As a symbol of James’ love and commitment to me and a sign of our covenant, it’s a comfort to me when things feel difficult in our marriage.

As a piece of my family history—the center stone belonged to my grandmother, a remnant from a rejected suitor—this ring has new life on my hand and reminds me how God redeems our pasts.

And on top of all that, it is an undeniably beautiful ring. One worth fixing, cherishing, and protecting.

Ready or Not: Embracing the Changing Seasons

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For the past couple weeks, I’ve stepped out of my apartment onto the streets of the Inner Sunset, and it looks like fall.

Even in the midst of our heat wave – in San Francisco, where no one has A/C, 85 degrees feels sweltering – it was still clear that summer was gone and fall was coming.

It’s something about the light. The sun casts longer shadows across the ground, and the sunsets are tinged with a distinctly pink and gold hue, causing the clouds to look like great big puffs of cotton candy. One last hurrah for the season that’s behind us.

At the farmer’s market, stone fruits are slowly being replaced by apples and figs and pomegranates, and the berries have lost their peak-of-summer sweetness.

PSL’s are popping up at every coffee shop, and Trader Joe’s is well-stocked with all things pumpkin.

Fall is normally my favorite season. And yet, this year, I didn’t feel ready. I wasn’t rushing to my closet for sweaters and boots. Partly because we wear them year-round in the city, but also because I didn’t want the seasons to change. Not yet. Continue reading →

Getting Back to the Foundation

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It was far too crowded on the train today. Between the hours of 5 and 6PM, Montgomery station is a mass of people, and today was exceptionally packed. As the N pulled up to the platform, I let the flow of the crowd carry me on to the train. I didn’t really have anywhere to be. I just wanted to get home. So, I thought skinny thoughts and squeezed myself between one very tall man and a shorter woman and her oversized bag.

I couldn’t reach one of the poles to hang onto, but there was no need. We were all so smashed together that no one was moving anyway. We just leaned against each other as the car continued on down the tunnel, jostling us and forcing us to get uncomfortably familiar with each others’ bodies.

An Invitation

When we finally came up for air and exited the tunnel, the dog park came into view. The same one I pass every day on my commute back and forth from downtown San Francisco. But this time, I heard an invitation. Continue reading →

The End of the Sentence: Becoming Unstuck

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I’ve hoped to write this post for a long time. Nearly six years, to be exact. Six years of hoping and waiting and praying and searching out answers. Answers for why: why my body wasn’t doing what it should do as a woman, why my cycle had gone missing, why I was stuck in this period of waiting. And how: how to get healthy, how to get my cycle back – as though it was off exploring the world somewhere, and it was my job to figure out how to bring that wanderer back home.

The name of this blog was born out of these years of waiting. “Waiting for the end of the sentence” referred both to waiting for my cycle to return and the more significant process of learning to wait on God during this period of time and recognize his work in my life. Everything I’ve written on this blog and my book Enough has passed through that filter of learning and observing. Instead of simply asking why and how, I’ve been asking what: What is God teaching me? What does he want me to share with others as a result of what I’ve learned?

In every experience – from dating to sleeping (or rather, not sleeping) – I’ve become keenly aware that God is speaking to me and moving in me. While there were times where I felt stuck, I wasn’t stagnant. And God was moving, working, bringing things back to life.

The lessons he’s taught me, the ways in which he’s been present with me, the love he’s revealed to me…that’s the point. That’s the period at the end of the sentence. That’s what I need to share.

While my cycle has returned – prodigal daughter that she was – I know this isn’t the end of the sentence for me. The waiting doesn’t stop here. No. This is simply a comma, a dash, and ellipse. An opportunity to pause, take a beat, breath, and thank God for the healing work he’s done over the last few years.

So, without further ado, here’s how – after six years of waiting – God has healed my body and is bringing things back into alignment.

It feels like a miracle. And it is. It’s a miracle that I didn’t stay stuck in a cycle of perfectionism. It’s a miracle of small steps and big changes that have led to life. It’s a miracle of grace. Continue reading →

4 Great Reasons to Say “No”

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Recently a friend and I were talking about when we first knew we were grown-ups…er, mature adults. When we knew we were women and not just girls. For me, it was when I bought my first bed. I had been living in San Francisco for nearly a year, sleeping on a mattress on the floor because it seemed more practical. I was in a relationship that was headed toward marriage. We were already talking engagement, so why bother buying a bed that would just fit me – not me and the guy I would be marring soon?

Desert feathers

Well, even after our short-lived engagement ended and our relationship dissolved, it took me months to make the plunge and buy my own bed. There was a part of me that didn’t want to admit my relationship had “failed,” that I wasn’t getting married, that I was on my own.

But as I started to heal – thanks in part to time and good counsel – I realized I needed to embrace my single status instead of longing for the path I had thought I was on. The path down the aisle. If I didn’t, I’d never move on, I’d never grow.

So, I shopped around for a bed and bought the one I wanted – the pillow-top, full-sized, just-enough-room-for-me bed. After handing over my credit card and signing for the delivery fee, I felt an incredible sense of empowerment knowing that I could take care of myself. Continue reading →