Gaga vs. Collins

A friend just asked me via Twitter if I ever sleep. Oh yeah, cuz it just so happens to be 3:06 AM and I'm tweeting my little heart out. Oops. I got caught. I tried to explain what it's like to be an art student: incessant drawing at all hours of the night to redo homework because the initial attempt wasn't quite perfect the first time around; so much work to do, all the time! Although I did manage to forget to leave out one minor detail: I am not doing homework tonight.

Jon and I are currently running off of 6 weeks without seeing one another (self proclaimed pity party right here), and tempers are running a little high. During our nightly Skype ritual earlier this evening, we started to get into a friendly banter about the pros and cons of Phil Collins (there are only cons)... a musician I happen to LOATHE. Right up there with 60 year old women who dress like they're 25, ant trails leading into the house, and the dog I live with. I teasingly asked my beau what musician I like that's equivalent to how I view his beloved Phil Collins, and he said without skipping a beat, "Lady Gaga." Gagaloo?! You mean this genius of a musician, who is literally redefining fashion by creating iconic and unforgettable outfits by her very own Haus of Gaga (if you knew me in high school, you'll know why her unique fashion choices speak to my heart so)? The woman who had five hit singles in 2009? Anyway, our friendly jesting soon turned into a theological conversation. Yeah, you read that right. I'm not really sure why or how, but ten minutes later I found myself having a good old fashioned predestination vs. free will discussion... I'll let you guess which side I was on.

We argued our viewpoints solidly for a good hour or two. Both arguments were well formed and based off of Scripture. Neither one of us wanted to relent, especially me. His degree in theology(!) was pitted against my stubbornness and so-called "life knowledge" as I put it, and I began to grow upset, citing this difference as something we needed to be compatible on in order for our relationship to eventually flourish into something more down the road. Tired, tears stinging, I stonily told him goodnight about an hour ago as both of us were exhausted and at our respective wits' ends. For some reason, this was of the upmost importance to me. How could I be with a man, as wonderful as he is, if we disagreed on such a cataclysmic level? I mean, I know it's not pertinent to our salvation, but surely it sets up the foundation from how we base our faith and thus our day-to-day lives?

Since our row, I haven't been able to sleep, and it's now in the middle of the freaking night. For reasons that have nothing to do with being an art student. Frogs are warming up their vocal chords outside my window and I could have sworn I heard the hoot of an owl a few moments ago. Trying to distract myself with Twitter and failing miserably, I realized with a jolt that Jon and I have gone almost a year in our relationship without needing to have this particular theological conversation, at least on such a deep level. An entire satisfying year of getting to know and falling in love with the man of my dreams. We've run into minor bumps in the road before that we've had to learn how to clumsily coast over, but nothing that seemed as vital as this.

Who am I even kidding.

Forgive me (actually don't) as I brag a little bit about my boyfriend, who as I mentioned in my last post should win an award for Boyfriend Of The Year. Take a look at what the man sent me for Valentine's Day last month:



In case you're having trouble viewing all the goodies, that's a ton of Godiva chocolate, jewelry, a wallet, a Papyrus card, and a little volume entitled "Love & Respect" which is seriously changing our relationship (and comes highly recommended). The best part about Jon isn't even his fabulous gift-giving abilities (or how handsome he is). It's his selflessness, his ability to show me how beautiful I am in his and God's eyes, his insane heart for ministry and kids, his beautiful voice that brings tears to my eyes EVERY TIME, his fervor for life and music and culture that so captivates me and makes me want to be so much cooler than I am, his extreme devotion to his friends and family, his tender heart to take care of me and my eyes... and I'm only scratching the surface. Here's a little sketch I did of him a few weeks ago:



One day last summer I looked at him and with a voice that trembled, betraying all the fear in my pounding heart, voiced something that had been troubling me for awhile: "What will happen when I can no longer see?" He glared at me, and said in a quiet voice dripping with seriousness in a tone that I would never dare question, "Don't you ever talk like that again." This man is head over heels for me... this lazy, Lady Gaga loving, McDonalds inhaling, flawed specimen of a woman. And I have no idea why.

So here's to you, Jonny, my best friend and soulmate. And here's to a bump in the road here and there. I know that I can trust you to hold me all the tighter when these bumps sometimes threaten to send us flying. I understand now that we're not going to agree on everything, and that sets us apart, makes us unique, and ultimately makes us stronger. I love you for the handsome, motivated, opinionated -- yes, even Phil Collins loving -- man that God made you to be.













...and yes, that second to last photo is a screen shot of us via Skype, to pay homage to the last six months of tortuous long distance.

Happy almost anniversary, baby. I don't want to be on this journey with anyone else but you.