A Letter to My Husband on Father's Day

This weekend is a big one for our family. Not only are we celebrating the Daddy in our house, but we're also celebrating his homecoming one year ago. One year ago Jamy returned home to our family after being gone for seven months. One year ago we were celebrating answered prayers, changed hearts, and a family forever changed.

This year, it's been good for my heart to look back. To be reminded of the work that God has done and continues to do in our family, and celebrate God's continuous work of redemption. This was the letter I wrote to Jamy last year on Father's Day and is just as true today.

Jamy,

So much has happened in our family since celebrating your last father's day. You've left our family and come back home.

But the father who left his children 7 months ago, the father who left his children even long before that, is not the father who has returned this Father's Day weekend.

You have come back stronger.

You're learning that strength is found in humility and admitting your weaknesses. That true strength is admitting you have none on your own and resting on God's work in your life.

You have come back braver.  

You have a quiet confidence; not in yourself, but in finding your identity in whose you are.  

You have come back transformed.

God's miraculous and redemptive work in your life has utterly changed you.  

The man you have become, and are becoming, is one that I'm incredibly proud of. The work you've done, and allowed God to do through you in these past several months had been nothing short of redemptive. It has begun to change you and the very fabric of our family in amazing and beautiful ways.

So on a day I would imagine it might be hard to look back and see the faults, the failings, and the pain, it's good to look forward at the new life God has given you as a father.

A new picture of what Jesus would look like with skin on in our house.

A new legacy to give your children of following hard after Jesus.

And when you keep passionately pursuing him, 

I will be proud if Jackson becomes a man who looks like you 

and and if Isabelle marries a man like you 

and someday they become fathers like you...

I love you, Jamy.  Happy Father's Day.

S

Daddy Daughter Masquerade Ball

For the past few years, I've helped lead putting together Whitefield's Annual Daddy Daughter Dance. If you happen to be a little girl, Pre-K through 8th grade, this is the social event of the year. In the past we've created a hoedown, a sock hop, and a beach ball. This year, I worked with my favorite committee and we put on a Masquerade Ball for Daddies and their daughters, complete with black and white attire with masks, a venue that looked like a castle on a lake, and hundreds of sparkling lights. We've heard it was the best one yet.

It's hard to say what's more enjoyable. Working all year with an amazing crew of other mothers and dear friends and seeing our ideas actually pan out or watching our girls with their daddies dance and giggle and enjoy each other all evening.

There were fires roaring in the fireplaces, the dance floor was always full, and everyone loved the magician we brought in (the girls loved his sub-par magic and the guys loved his sarcastic humor). High schoolers served hors d'oeuvres and sparkling juice on platters and the cream puffs were a favorite. Admittedly at some point during the night, you could find all of the mamas hosting the event on the sidelines of the dance floor weeping together watching our husbands dancing with our babies.

And this year will go down in history. The DJ's that almost didn't arrive, the magician's assistant who was asked to change out of a scary costume, and footage of some fathers and our headmaster dancing to Macarena that I'm sure can be used for blackmail later. And the end of the night has a story all it's own (more on that to come).

As always, I'm incredibly thankful to be a part of a school that works hard and plays hard together. This tribe of people that make up our little school have become like family to us. 

Here's to another night full of memories.

It's Friday

Easter this year holds some new meaning for us. This time last year, Jamy was still gone. Easter Sunday was literally the first day we had all been together as a family since before Thanksgiving the year before.

I remember sitting in that reality on Good Friday a year ago today. God had just begun moving in huge ways. But there was still tremendous work to do. Unsure of the future, weary of the journey, and ready for God to do a miracle. the reality of Good Friday resonated with me in a new way. I needed Sunday to come in the most desperate way. 

And if we're honest, we've all been in that space. When we need hope like we need air to breath. When we need God to step in and heal the brokenness. When we need God to literally bring dead things to life.

It's the best worst day. Good Friday promises that God sent a Savior to step into our brokenness to redeem and rescue us.

When hope is lost.

When you are defeated.

When death wins.

God promises Sunday's comin'.

Home

It was one year ago this past week that he left. Again. One year ago the kids and I watched as Jamy left our home and didn't come back for seven months.

There is so much that could be said to fill in the huge gaps of that statement. And I'm sure someday I'll share much more of the details. But for now it's enough to say that when sin creeps into a heart, it creeps into a marriage, and a family, and has devastating consequences. And we lived through that devastation for a long time.

It's hard to put words to what going through a separation that long meant for our family. Being a single mama, grieving with my kids the tremendous loss of a husband and daddy, and praying for my husband every day to remember his identity in Jesus.

The short version is that Jesus did a miracle in our family. Primarily he did a miracle in my husband's heart that changed the trajectory of our family.

One year ago I literally didn't know if Jamy would ever come home. I had to think through the very real possibility of what it would look like to be a family of three and the kind of home I could afford as a single mom. The reality of living in a run down apartment and figuring out how to do life without a husband and a daddy in our home.

And then, over months of heartbreak and hard work and Jesus changing hearts, Jamy came home. He came home over Father's Day weekend and since then God has been knitting our hearts together like never before. The amazing work that God has been doing didn't happen overnight and we're still in the process of healing and looking to him to be our hope. But Jamy has been fervently pursuing righteousness, our marriage, and our kids. He is a different man than the one that left our family a year ago. 

When he came home, we started to dream together again. God had been restoring our hearts and our family and our dreams as a couple.

We decided to buy a home. Almost six years ago when we moved to Kansas City, we left the first home we had purchased together. It turns out the timing couldn't have been worse. We left at the height of the economic downturn: our home took eighteen months to sell and we took an enormous loss. It had taken us years to get out from under the mess and now we thought that by Spring we would be in a space to finally buy again.

But in the quiet of one summer night, I admitted to Jamy that I didn't want to do one more holiday season in our rental home. In the past three years, Jamy has been gone for Thanksgiving and Christmas twice. This space held more hard memories then happy ones; more heartbreak than celebration. But looking at our bank account and our timeframe meant that we would do one more holiday in that same space and I prayed that God would redeem it. But I was dreading the fall, when the winter creeps in and always reminds me of my husband's cold heart and the devastation to our family.

And then God, in his extravagant grace to our family, opened up opportunities for it to be wise for us to begin looking at homes. When we started looking we had no idea how amazing his timing would be. We looked at nine homes. The ninth one we looked at we knew was meant to be ours. It was listed on a Monday morning and by that night our offer was accepted. In less than a month we had moved in.

And in God's crazy goodness, we moved in the same week last year that Jamy left. 

This year instead of watching my husband drive away, I'm watching him pull in the driveway and get tackled by the kids who are eager that Daddy is home from a day at work. This year, instead of sitting alone at night, I'm cuddling on the couch with him in front of the fire and talking about what God is doing in our hearts and lives. This year, instead of making dinner for three of us, the four of us are cooking in the kitchen and dancing to the radio.

So this space in much more than a new house for our family. This is the space where we will call home. This is the space that we will fill with new, beautiful memories. This is the space where we continue to heal and God will continue to redeem and restore. This is the space where we will celebrate miracles. Incredible miracles God has already done and many more I'm sure he has in store for us.

Only God could take a devastating anniversary for our family and turn in into an all-out celebration of his extravagant grace and kindness to our family.

Only God could make this house our home. For all four of us.

Daddy Daughter Beach Ball

If anyone remembers last year, there was a Daddy Daughter Dance that never happened. Although clearly my brother is a rock star, I wasn't about to let that happen again so I was put in charge of the whole thing (actually, those two events are completely unrelated).

Isabelle's school has an annual Daddy Daughter Dance that's become eagerly anticipated by all the girls in elementary and middle school. I worked with an amazing committee all year to transform a local church gym into a "Beach Ball" for this year's event. It was hosted by "Frankie and Annette" complete with a DJ, dance instructor, tiki snack bar, and even a synchronized swimming routine by some of the dads. 

There's something magical that happens when you host such a special event for daddies and their daughters. Watching them dance and laugh and be silly; enjoying each other and creating memories that will be tucked down deep into hearts for years. It was so magical that you could find some of the mamas weeping into their little mocktails with umbrellas at various points during the evening.

At one point during the night, I caught a special moment between Jamy and Isabelle. They were slow dancing and Jamy had picked her off the ground for a hug; him with tears in his eyes and her with a huge smile on her face (now I'm included with the other weepy mamas). 

Our family is incredibly blessed that our kids go to a school that not only sees the value in events like these, but creates a student body where celebration is a natural overflow of our community as a school family. It's not just our kids who are making friendship I pray will last a lifetime, but we are too.

  

My team who worked all year to put on this amazing event (side note: don't wear green if posing in front of a green screen - it makes for some awkward pictures).

Until next year...

4,383 Days

4,383 days.

105,192 minutes.

5 cozy homes.

200,365 miles on the minivan we swore we'd never be driving.

10 jobs and 3 careers in social work and ministry.

2 amazing children.

2 dogs, 2 frogs, and lots of goldfish (may they rest in peace).

Hundreds of fights passionate discussions.

5 vacations in the US and 1 dreamed of vacation to Ireland.

4 car accidents and 1 broken neck.

2 years of really hard road.

12 years of marriage to Jamy.

This past weekend we celebrated a dozen years since we made our vows to each other. Just out of college, at the very beginning our adult lives, and having no idea what our future held. Naive. Ignorant. And crazy in love. Also crazy enough to think that love would be enough to hold us together when things got tough.

Now we know better. 4,383 days into our marriage, after going through unimaginable storms, we know that the great lie that "love will keep us together" isn't enough. After broken promises, broken dreams, and broken hearts, our greatest tries have only led to failure.

But God has been enough. God has been good and great and big enough to cover all of our brokenness.

We've learned that our hope isn't in our homes, our careers, or even our marriage. We've learned our true joy doesn't come from being the best spouse, the best parent, or the best in our field. We've learned that we're in desperate need of a Savior who can redeem and restore.

1 God.

2 broken sinners.

And 1 marriage for 12 years that I would commit to again in a heartbeat.

Here's to 23,182 more days with you, Babe.

For more of our story, click on the marriage tab. It's a good one...

The Daddy at Our House

Father's Day has come and gone and I feel like I missed the boat.  But I didn't want to miss the chance to tell you a little bit about the Daddy in our house that we celebrated over the weekend.  Better late than never... 

This year, we celebrated Jamy.  I love the father he is to our kids.  

On Saturday the kids and I braved the huge thunderstorms in KC and bought him a TV he's been wanting. (I found out  later Jamy actually snuck around the house hoping to find his flat screen.) Then came the big question: what do you want to do for dinner? Jamy quickly came to the conclusion that instead of going out for dinner, he'd rather have nice steak grilled at the house. I sheepishly offered to make it. And he ever so kindly and gently said he could. (If you don't know by know, Jamy is the chef in our family and I am a FAR second.) I even offered to do the grocery shopping for the big meal, but that was a no go either. So Jamy ended up cooking his own elaborate Father's Day meal complete with Jack Daniels steaks, potatoes with bacon, grilled veggies, and homemade strawberry shortcake. Thankfully, he loves to cook to this was somehow a gift in itself. (Seriously, how did I manage that?!)

But I'm sure these are the gifts he'll cherish most. Handmade cards by the kids and even a glow stick message.

I love the gift he's given us. A picture of what it looks like to be a follower of Jesus in every sense of the word. Humble and brave enough to repent and stick with it when things are messy and hard. A servant who prepares  meals, mows the lawn, takes out the trash, and stays up late when he's exhausted to spend time with us. He comes home from work and throws kids on the couch, cooks an amazing dinner, reads stories with crazy voices, and tucks kids in with blessings over them.

This year we celebrated a strong daddy. A daddy who was courageous enough to fight for his family and his faith. A daddy who models what redemption looks like right here in our living room and a Heavenly Father who loves big.

Happy Father's Day, Jamy. I wanted to make sure I said it even if it is a little late.

Untweetable Updates

I'm starting to live life a little more publicly  Blogging and consulting will do that to you. This is to my introverted extended family's horror and my children's future chagrin.  

A common phrase around here is "That's not tweetable!" It's kind of like calling "base" when playing tag and claiming safety. Trust me, many things happen in our home that are untweetable but soooooo funny. (Those are called boundaries my friends. Although we all know from social media not everyone appreciates them in the same way...)

So there's this constant tension in our home. How do we share what's going on in a way that protects healthy boundaries and also share transparently what God is doing in our lives? And there's tension in my heart too. My pride gets in the way. My clients read this, I think. People who don't know our whole story will make judgments. They'll think I don't have it all together...    

The other day I read this:

I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great congregation;

behold, I have not restrained my lips, as you know, O Lord.

I have not hidden your deliverance within my heart;

I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation;

I have not concealed your steadfast love and

your faithfulness from the great congregation.

Psalm 40:9-10

And then God drops this one on me too:

We will not hide them from their children,

but tell to the coming generation

the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might,

and all the wonders he has done.

He established a testimony...that the next generation might know them,

the children yet unborn, and arise to tell them to their children,

so that they should set their hope in God

and not forget the words of God,

but keep his commandments.

Psalm 78:4-8

Well shoot. I was planning on keeping the latest "stuff" happening in our lives under the healthy boundaries category and move on. But those who know me could tell things were off. When you press into Jesus for simple things like continuing to breathe and live and shower I guess it shows... And really, if we don't share our stuff, no one will appreciate the crazy miracles happening right now in our family. In our hearts. In our living room.  It's good stuff.

Yes, other professionals and clients read my blog. Sure, people will judge me. And of course I don't have it all together. But these words from the Psalms change my perspective on what's important. God's image always wins over mine. (At least, that's the truth I need to train my heart in.)

So here's an update from the past 5 weeks of our lives. Maybe someday I'll unpack it a little more. There are so many things to share about God moving and working. Changing hearts of stone to hearts of flesh. Continuing to rid us of ourselves and fill us up with more of Him.

But for now, here's the abridged version:

Jamy left again.  That was hard.

God came close.  That was good.

We both worked on stuff.  That was intense.

Jamy came home.  That was a miracle.

And now we have continued work to do.

As I look at this list, I realize how hugely abridged it really is. There are a ton of stories of God's goodness, rescue, and faithfulness. And I know I'll begin to tell them...someday...

When I started blogging only a few short months ago, my very first post was about why I'm actually doing this (blogging that is).  And my last statement was this:

Because I’m really doing it for me and my family. To preserve memories. To remember the things that are really important. To preach the gospel to myself and actually write it out so I can hear it not just in my head but in my heart. So I can track the grace-filled mess God is creating right now. In my life.  

So continuing to tell our story, sharing our junk, and living transparently is our feeble attempt at telling the glorious deeds of the Lord. We will speak of His deliverance and salvation. We won't constrain our lips.  

We will tell the congregation of his steadfast love and faithfulness. Because this is all that matters.

Our Funny Valentines and True Love

We're not huge on Valentine's Day around here. Jamy's tendency is to buck the Hallmark-created holiday and chuckle at all the schmucks that get pulled into buying expensive horrible chocolates in large cardboard hearts. (*gasp* we live in Kansas City where half our friends work for Hallmark as writers and photographers!)

But now we have kids who adore it. Making Valentine's boxes and bags to collect their Valentine's from their classmates. Getting their list of friends and choosing the perfect princess or sports ball Valentine for each one. Carefully signing their name and picking their favorites to save for their teacher and mommy and daddy.

So, we have been sucked in. We survived the chaos during high school and college and certainly can survive it through our kids as well. And I've decided to embrace it.Taking the cue from my dear friend Tracie and their new tradition, we have also instituted "Family Love Day" around here.

Instead of the sentimental, over-the-top meaningless gifts, I wanted my kids and Jamy to know how much they are loved. By me and more importantly by their Heavenly Father loves them unconditionally and without limit.

  

They each woke up to 14 hearts on their door with reasons why I love them. Jamy and I created the kids together and I surprised Jamy with his own hearts from me.

Here's just a few:

For Bella:
I love to watch you dance
I love listening to the way you tell stories
I love your imagination

For Jack:
I love playing soccer with you
I love your belly laugh
I love your compassionate heart

For Jamy:
I love the way you provide for our family
I love that you make me laugh
I love your servants heart

Our Family Love Day will celebrate our love for each other. But I want my kids to start grasping a love so much deeper than the broken kind of love we see around us represented today by over-sized teddy bears and roses.  

Last night Jamy and I read this together from Scotty Smith's Everyday Prayers:

Only your love is better than life, Jesus. Only your love meets the deepest needs of my whole being and satisfies my most intense longings. Only your love is unwavering,  Jesus, for all other loves are filled with conditions and contingencies. Only your love is unfailing, Jesus for all other loves are fickle and finite.

Only your love can expose and replace my idols. Only your love can break my self-indulgent chains and set me free to love well.  Only your love can heal the greatest heart-wounds I carry.  Only your love can move me from navel-gazing to kingdom living...

This is my prayer for my family today:

So that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith - that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with the fullness of God.  Ephesians 3: 17-19

We're celebrating this kind of love this year, praying it overflows into our marriage, into our family, and into our world...

13 Years Ago Today

It's a Christmas tradition around here.  Every December 23rd we head to Fredrick Meijer Gardens as a family. 13 years ago I was dating a boy and he proposed to me under this gazebo.

I just wrote an entire blog on how we met and how we dated and how he proposed. But I just realized none of that matters much today so I deleted it. It's a good story. One with lots of romance and humor and DRAMA. But I'll save all that for another time.

For now I'm immensely grateful that Jamy asked me to marry him 13 years ago today. We went to the gardens this afternoon with Isabelle and Jackson. We had lunch together at the cafe and walked the gardens. We watched our kids look in wonder at the ornately decorated Christmas trees and hollered at them not to run too far ahead of us.  

And just like he always does, Jamy pulled me under the gazebo for a quick kiss among all the people and the Christmas music. It seemed more meaningful this year after everything we've been through.  

I realized I would say "yes" again.

I would say "yes" again to the memories we've made.
I would say "yes" again to the family we've created. 
I would say "yes" again to the traditions we've started.
I would say "yes" again to the joy we've had.
And I would even say "yes" again to the heartbreak we've been through.

All of these things have made our family who and what we are today. They've deepened our faith in Christ and in each other.  I've learned a few things since that day 13 years ago. I know more about who Jamy is. I know more about grace and forgiveness. I know more about patience and sacrifice. And I hope in another 13 years I'll know much more.  

I'm thankful God's dreams for our family were much grander than I could have ever dreamed. When I said "yes" to Jamy I assumed we would live a fairy tale. It turns out it was much different than I envisioned. But the story God is writing has been so much better.  

Saying "yes" to Jamy has been one of the best decisions I ever made. Merry Christmas Eve Eve, Babe. I'm so proud to be your wife.

We're Getting Out of the Boat Today

Several weeks ago Jamy was reading the story of Noah to the kids for family devotions. You know the story: the godly man, the ark, the animals two by two. But this time he read the story in a fresh way and he shared it with me later that night.

We see Noah's story as a happy one with animals and a rainbow. You could even throw in a pair of unicorns if you believed they lived back in the day. Noah took a nice cruise with his family, had a pet bird, landed on the top of a mountain with a nice view, and went on to populate the entire earth. Lovely story.

But Noah's family lived in chaos for about a year in that boat. They gave up their old lives, did crazy things to ensure the safety of their family, lived in misery on a boat for a year waiting on God to move, and had to begin a brand new life. Noah had his wife, kids, and God (with a few animals scattered in there as well).

If you're familiar with our story, you know we've been living in chaos for the last year. The analogy doesn't last long between the VanSyckle's and Noah (not to mention Jamy can't grow a beard), but stick with me.  

November 15th is a big day for us.

One year ago today I got the worst news of my life.

One year and one day ago I left our house with the kids and knew when we got back home my husband would have moved out.

One year and two days ago Jamy and I sat on the couch with our kids and had to tell them that Daddy had some work to do on his heart and would be gone for awhile.

This began a separation that lasted almost three months. Since that day, our entire family has been through months of counseling. We've lost relationships and had hard, honest conversations with  those closest to us.  We've had to stop everything to ensure our family was safe. Sins have been exposed (in both of our hearts) and we've walked through repentance and forgiveness. We've celebrated reconciliation. We've had to lean hard on each other, our church family, and on Christ. We've had to rebuild our family. We've learned a ton about humility and love.  We've learned to find our identity and hope in Jesus.  

This past year we've been on a "boat" that God has been using to literally save our family. God took us to a place where all we had was Him to rescue us.  When Jamy shared this with me it changed my entire perspective. It's been easy to think of this past year as hellish. And in many ways that's absolutely accurate. But this was God's divine and sovereign rescue plan for our family. Had we gone on as if nothing happened, had Jamy not had the courage to be honest, had I given up, our family would have crumbled. But God had a bigger, grander plan for our marriage and family. The boat got messy, the trip was bumpy, and the journey was (and will continue to be) long.  

God used this past year as a vehicle to rescue and redeem our family.

So today we're ready to get out of the boat, knowing that He has promised to be faithful and celebrating the new start we have with our new view. Today there is a tension between the real grief over what sin has done to our family and the celebration of the power of God's work in Jamy's life and our family. I've decided to embrace all of it.

And I am secretly hoping I'll spot a rainbow today.  

I Met My Husband for the First Time

November 15, 2011.  That's when I met my husband for the first time.

What?  

Some of you know our story. I first spotted him at the snack bar on a church campground when I was 13 and he was 15.  He was scooping ice cream for customers and I had a funny feeling, even at 13, that he would change my world.

And he did. Over the next few years we became friends, then inseparable best friends, then a dating couple, then married. We knew everything about each other inside and out; our quirks and habits, our joys and fears, our dreams and faith.

At least that's what I thought.

The reality was I knew almost everything. But nothing at the same time since there was a huge part of him struggling and wrestling.

So I met him, all of him, about this time last year. After knowing him for almost twenty years, he was brave enough to introduce me to what he thought would end it all. He was courageous enough to finally speak the truth and it's made all the difference.

Don't get me wrong. The truth was painful and hard and ugly. It was devastating to our family. It was the deepest hurt I've ever experienced.

But true healing, peace, and redemption can only come after truth. And now I'm free to love all of him the way Christ loves me; despite my failures and shortcomings. While I was learning who he really was, I was also able to be honest about myself. While dealing with the reality of my husband's sin, I also needed to deal with my own. Because I'm just as much in need of a Savior as he is.

It's funny to think that after 20 years, I've only really known Jamy for a few months. But the man he is today I wouldn't trade for any other. The truth has truly set him free to love our family well.

He is an amazing Daddy: attentive to our kids and their hearts. Wrestling with them, reading to them, teaching them, and answering their never-ending questions with godly wisdom.

He is a wonderful husband: engaged with me and willing to fight for our marriage. Willing to put himself second daily and ensuring I feel loved and cared for.

I love this man I've met. And I'm so glad we happen to be married.

Photos by Atkinson Photography

Bittersweet

I've written this blog in my head about a hundred times. I've struggled with finding the right words to tell our story. I've been wrestling with it awhile; but when it comes down to it, it's an issue of pride. What will people who haven't been walking with us this past year think after reading this? What will people who don't know us think?  And if I could, I would hide it. Truth be told, if I could, I wouldn't have lived through it. This morning I almost chickened out but Jamy encouraged me again to share what God has done in our family. We want to tell our story so God can use all of this brokenness for His glory. 

This weekend marks our eleventh wedding anniversary. To sum it up: year number ten in our marriage has been hard. Hellish is more like it really.

Last November our marriage hit the fan. I'm not sure if I'll ever get into details here, but suffice it to say sin entered our relationship and hit us hard. So hard that we separated for three months. Eleven weeks to be exact. Had anyone ever said that this was what we were in for ten years beforehand, we would have chuckled and dismissed them. And honestly, so would many of our close friends.  

We came face to face with the reality that our marriage was not perfect and was far from what God created it to be.  

During this experience, we've gone through incredible loss. I was a single mom for almost three months. I lost friendships. Our finances became a mess paying for individual therapy, marriage counseling, and play therapy for the kids. Pride? Out the window (that's probably a good loss though). And our marriage has been through the wringer.

But we also had incredible gain. Mostly in our relationship with Christ. When everything was ripped from me, I literally had no where to turn but to Him. My identity could no longer be found in "having it all together." My faith couldn't be harbored in believing God would make everything turn out right if I just made good decisions. I needed to trust that Jesus was enough while my life was falling apart around me.  

So our eleventh anniversary this year is bittersweet to say the least. I'm full of mixed emotions and there's been many times this week I've just wanted to skip this milestone altogether.   

But on Saturday, August 25, 2012, I'm choosing to celebrate. I'm not choosing to celebrate the heartbreak, hopelessness, and despair of marriage that has been turned upside down.

Instead, I will celebrate God's amazing redemptive power to heal a broken marriage. I will celebrate my God who forgives, restores, and makes things new. I will celebrate a husband who doesn't take the easy way out and strives to be the man God has called him to be. I will celebrate a family marked by suffering but glorying in our God who will make all things right.  

We're still in it. We're still in the thick of it some days riding a roller coaster of the effects of sin and betrayal and hurt. But we're still running to the cross.We're still learning about what repentance and forgiveness means in the most practical and daily way. And we've learned what real love is all about.  1 Corinthians 13 took on a whole new meaning when it wasn't our pastor reading it to us at an altar; when we're trying desperately to live out "love never fails" when the world tells us we have "good reason" to give up. God has been faithful in healing our marriage, in healing our hearts, and in healing our family. 

And when you get down to it, isn't that what every marriage is all about? Two broken, sinful people coming together to show a sinful, broken world what redemption really looks like.

I'll keep celebrating my marriage because God does. 

To see how we began our celebration, watch this short film. 

January 31, 2012 (Short Version) from Jamy and Susan VanSyckle on Vimeo.

Photography by Jeremy and Ashley Parsons, Brad Atkinson, and Shelley Paulson

My Husband Cooks

You should know I don't cook. And when I say I don't cook, I mean not. at. all. If you invite me over for a dinner party and I offer to help, what I'm really offering is if I can add ice to the glasses or fold the napkins or wipe down the counters. Ask me to chop the onion and I'm out.

Growing up, I remember Ma often starting a Monday by saying, "OK Sweetie, I should teach you how to cook this week." And I would respond (probably with a respectful eye roll) by telling her very practically that I was planning on marrying a man who would cook for me. Even though she rolled her eyes right back and never did really teach me, I'm sure she never really thought it would work out for me. Or maybe she added that to her prayer list for my future husband (man of God, SUPER patient, appreciates quirkiness...good cook).

And that's exactly what happened. I married a cook. And he's turning into a chef I tell you. Below are some Instagram pics to prove it. (Yes, I take pictures of his amazing food - follow me on Instagram if you want your jaw to drop often).

Fruit Chimichangas (or heaven on a plate)

THIS is a typical Saturday breakfast

Here's the great part. He LOVES it. You can see from the pictures that he puts a ton of thought and creativity into each of his dishes he makes for his family. For some crazy reason, cooking helps him destress. The Food Network is my husband's ESPN. And he rarely uses a recipe. In fact, if he makes something that I especially like, the convo will go something like this:  

Me: Babe, this is really good. Will you pleeeese remember how you made this for next time? 

Chef Extraordinaire: You know there's no way I'll remember exactly how I made this

So, that's one downside to his creative genius; it's different every time.

"Just dessert" he says...

As you can see, I made out pretty good. And so did my kids. I mean, had I not married Jamy my kids would be eating mac and cheese and frozen pizzas and store bought crackers. And maybe some Lunchables or something else I feel is balanced like the food pyramid. But instead we have a man in the house who makes sure we're fed with yummy, healthy (ok - that's not always true), and beautiful food. Saturday mornings he'll make a full on breakfast of potato pancakes (my fav) or fritters or egg bake or cinnamon rolls (we'll talk about why I want to lose a few pounds later).

BUT, I do make a mean tater tot casserole. (I know I just lost all my organic-clean-eating friends in the blog world. Deal with it.) I told one of my birth mamas this once and she almost spit out her Starbucks across the table laughing. She offered to teach me to cook. So until I get some cooking lessons from clients, when I'm up to cook at the VanSyckle's tater tot cass it is people.

Yes, that rice is in the shape of a heart

So we have a good system going. He cooks dinner and I clean up. Although admittedly I get the much better end of the stick.

There is one drawback. Neither one of us can make chocolate chip cookies to save our life. Sorry,  kids.  Oreos it is.

*Update: after Jamy read this post, he says, "What?!  You posted those pictures?" I guess the eggs were a little "messy" in one...  My apologies, Babe.