Life offers a multitude of new starts, a fact which I find rejoice-worthy as I am ever blundering up my past and looking for something new with which to redeem myself. I once told my Daddy, “We seem to be born with an endless supply of opportunities. Growing up means quickly putting them to bad use and running low on ‘another chance’,” words spoken in pessimism. In truth, God’s mercies are new every morning, new life is begun every minute, and the refining and redefining of our character is constant. Often, my longing to achieve and my inability to achieve — the way I yearn to love completely and still end up incompletely loved — disgruntles an otherwise cheery attitude, thankful for but also resentful of fresh starts. The infantile resolves that there should be no reason for beginning again; the mature rejoices in a chance to restart. Realizing the brightness of a new beginning is a lesson in joy, hope, and most importantly, humility.
On July 23rd, 2011, I began one of the most shocking new starts of my twenty-one years. I got married. In today’s society and especially in the society I like to think of as my rubbing-shoulders-peers, marrying before attaining your bachleor’s degree, marrying your first boyfriend, and/or marrying without first “getting freaky,” (My husband explained this phrase to me. Homeschoolie girl gets a whole new sort of education!) is an oddity, like Vermont without maple syrup: unnatural. Our fresh-faced romance sometimes strikes me as embarrassing. Nonetheless, sitting here in our little apartment (Pie in the Sky. Do you like it?) and contemplating a grocery list, feeling, quite frankly, house-wife-ish — and not really minding — and a week into marriage, I adore the absolutely fresh, pearly start of our marriage, so many things to discover, so many things to learn, vices to conquer, victories to celebrate, personalities to develop, passions to understand, and friendships to nurture.
New beginnings present no scarcity. Still, it seems, some new beginnings are more apparent than others. Marriage, for me, is the epitome of new opportunity. Who knows what will happen at Pie in the Sky! Ahhhh! The possibilities! I invite you, unknown reader (or perhaps nonexistent reader … how do you know anyone is actually reading your blog, anywho?), to peak in once in awhile as I recall the dowry of lessons life has supplied and put them to unpracticed use as a peppy Mrs. Grace Lilly Breer adjusting to the domestic habits of marriage and the lovely peculiarities of Plainfield, Vermont.