The future MRS.!

Three day weekends are the best. There's just something so rewarding about taking a day off work to stretch out and savor every last morsel of time off. A couple of months ago, Jarrett and I decided that a long weekend in Charlottesville would make for a perfect spring getaway. As an alumni of the University of Virginia, I spent four incredible years stomping the grounds of Mr. Jefferson's campus. Charlottesville is such a special place to me. Needless to say, I will rise to the opportunity of visiting with as much enthusiasm as child on Christmas morning.

When we visited last fall, I was lucky enough to link up with Anna, my best friend from college. Anna and I dropped Jarrett off at Monticello and perused on to the orchard for the apple festival. If you know anything about Jarrett, you know that he is a huge history buff. He assured me that he would have no problem spending an afternoon at Monticello, secretly thrilled to weasel out of the festival :). The festival was fun, but Anna and I had our fix after about an hour. We returned to Monticello shortly thereafter and gave Jarrett a call. Much to his disappointment I dragged him away with a promise that we would return to spend an entire day.

Jarrett came to me a couple of months ago suggesting that we return to Charlottesville the weekend of April 16th. It was the week of Jefferson's birthday, and he was certain that there would be some sort of exhibit. It's not that I don't like history, but the thought of spending an entire day in a museum (even Monticello!) doesn't do anything for me. He casually said that I could just drop him off and then go do my own thing. So I texted my friend Cary and made plans to meet her and the kiddos at Arch's for an after school snack.

As we arrived to Monticello, we got out of the car and stretched our legs. Jarrett asked me if I wanted to walk up to the house with him, but I knew I wouldn't have time. I didn't know exactly what time I was meeting up with Cary, but I was afraid that if I walked too far I would end up being late. So I agreed to walk up to the split where the sweet little ladies checked for tickets. As we approached them, I started to kiss Jarrett goodbye when much to my surprise he pulled out two tickets. I couldn't believe it. I told him I had plans and he brushed it off that a $16 ticket was no big deal. I texted Cary and did my best to over-apologize for backing out of our plans. I even stated the obvious by telling her that "men=poor listeners". I was kind of frustrated that Jarrett bought me a ticket and obviously felt obligated to go. Besides, how sweet was it that he wanted me to go with him? Immediately I was captivated by the beauty of Monticello. It was a perfect spring day with warm sunshine and a cool mountain breeze. I had my camera out and ready to go, snapping pictures left and right. When I spotted this small brick building in the garden overlooking the mountains I was in awe. With two Jeffersonian chairs inside, I dreamed of the inspiration that would come from this picturesque scene. I caught the flash of someone inside, and positioned myself so that I could take pictures without the person appearing in the image. It was 3:50 and our house tour would begin at 4. Jarrett wanted to go down in the gardens and convinced me that we would have time. I hoped that the person in the brick building would hurry up and leave so we could snag the two Jefferson chairs.

We headed to the gardens and settled near the brick building. I was strategizing to grab the structure next. Little did I know, Jarrett was positioning us for an entirely different reason. In the most beautiful place on Earth, in a city that I adore, I stood with the man that I love more than anything. What he said next is all kind of a blur. He brought me close and started to say all these sweet things. And then, he said "Miriam Rachel Patterson," and as I looked down and saw him holding a ring I began to cry. I was so overcome with happiness, so incredibly overjoyed and in love. I remember him saying that he didn't know which side was my left, and then he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I will never forget that much anticipated moment. It was perfect, absolutely incredible. I started to hear a clicking noise and turned around to see a photographer who had captured this moment. It only took a double take and a pinch to realize that it was Ann Wade, my cousin who just so happens to be a professional wedding photographer. I laughed when I realized that the person hovering in the brick building was my cousin on a top secret mission. I was in total shock, how special to be with two of the most incredible people in my life at this amazing time.

Jarrett had arranged for Ann Wade to fly to Charlottesville the night before. She stayed just long enough for an on the spot engagement session on the beautiful grounds of Monticello. We stole off to the vineyard to share a bottle of wine before Ann Wade took off for the airport. I kept replaying the events in my mind, in total shock that Jarrett caught me completely off guard. I was 100% convinced that a proposal would take place in 2011, when Jarrett completed his masters. Looking back, I laugh at all the idiosyncrasies that occured over the last couple of days. Jarrett hadn't been sleeping well and was under alot of stress, which I attributed to his busy work week and presentation at school. The morning of, he was stalling to wait for his new computer which was supposed to be shipped that morning. We stopped by Starbucks and he didn't drink one sip of his mocha. And on top of that, he didn't have a bite of lunch, claiming that he was still full from breakfast. Somehow, I managed to either overlook or rationalize this rather odd behavior.

When we were driving to Charlottesville that Friday morning, Jarrett had asked me what I wanted to do the next day. I raved on and on about how much I loved the Boar's Head Inn. I have only been to the spa one time, and told him that I dreamed of one day staying at this fancy inn. Jarrett must have been dying on the inside as this is exactly where he had arranged for us to stay that night!! After an engagement dinner celebration at Vivace with my dear friends who I originally thought we'd be staying with, we checked in to the inn and settled into our lake front room. We walked out of the back door onto the patio and enjoyed an evening stroll. We were so incredibly happy to be newly engaged and I am certain that I was still smiling when we dozed off that night.

The next morning I ran down the hill to the spa for some pampering and a fresh manicure to show off my beautiful ring. Never did I imagine that I would be given a family heirloom, his great grandmother's diamond with his grandmother's setting. I feel so honored that I will soon be an official member of the Dineen family. As I finished up at the spa and walked in the back door of our room I head a knocking at the door. Jarrett had ordered room service, and we savored our delicious breakfast on the porch overlooking the lake. Without even knowing a thing about the proposal, I had invited my parents to join us in Charlottesville for lunch. Jarrett had talked with my father earlier in the week, but they didn't know that in a matter of days their baby girl would be engaged! We celebrated with my folks and then set off for Eden to celebrate with the Dineens. I don't think I have stopped smiling since that Monticello moment, where I truly truly realized that I am the luckiest girl in the whole world.

JESUS

We are such a small part of this big world.

It only took one hour spent with the children of "Watoto" to remind me of this simple concept. With the lifestyle we are accustomed to, and the day in-day out activities we engage in, it's easy to lose sight of our remote surroundings.

The children put on an amazing performance-African dancing and songs of the Lord's love spoke directly to my heart. My God seems so incredibly personalized, so in touch with my life and my culture. Sometimes I stand in amazement of just how far his love can go. To the children of Africa in times of hardship and disease stricken devastation. To students cramming for exams, overwhelmed with the breadth of knowledge expected upon them. And even to the simple blessing of one's meal, the Lord is present among all of us, at all times.

Amazing.

Inspiring.

Undeserving?

Accepting.

With repentance.

For His love,

His grace,

His name.

JESUS.

Therapy

What come to mind when you hear the word "therapy"? Perhaps the word conjures up images of a plush couch in a dimly lit room... hashing out feelings and emotions, analyzing progress, outlining steps for success. Maybe this word triggers a series of commercials in your mind.. the sad looking white blob, promises and proclamations that these medications will change your life forever... In my line of work, I am a strong advocate for anti-depressants and anxiolytics. I have been educated on the pharmacodynamics behind these little life savers and have had so many patients improve dynamically on such medications. But I am somehow left in amazement with the breadth of therapeutic release that can be found among the simplest of things. With the right attitude (albeit sometimes best achieved with the help of our friend serotonin), bliss awaits in the most unexpected places and at the most random of times.

This weekend epitomized "therapy." This revelation was triggered the moment I slid down my shades, hit the lawn chair, and closed my eyes, soaking up the sunshine at the neighborhood pool. And so my three day weekend began. With every ray of sunshine I truly savored the opportunity for rest, relaxation, and a healthy serving of vitamin D. Therapy managed to find its way to the opposite extreme in the YMCA, of all places. A gruesome workout with my personal trainer left me exhausted and begging for more. Never underestimate the power of endorphins. Sometimes a 30 minute sweat session is just what the doctor ordered.

Therapy is the aroma of the garlic, herbs, and a wine-infused creation sizzling on the stove. The expression of cooking at its finest, the pride that comes with delivering a delicious meal. J and I were house sitting in the country this weekend and this particular kitchen happened to overlook a farm. Herb crusted tilapia, brown rice pilaf, and a caramelized shallot and carrot medley was most delightfully savored on the deck with an atmosphere impossible to describe. The breeze in the air, the field of horses, and the hues of the sunset proved to be the perfect backdrop to our supper scene.

Therapy is the simplicity of a car wash. Bare feet, suds and a bucket, scrubbing out each imperfection. J treated my car to extra TLC, whose waxed hood subtracts at least 2 years off my car's 13 year career. Therapy is the ability to laugh when you walk out the next day only to find a once shiny black beauty covered in pollen. It's the simplest things, really.

Therapy finds its place with each holiday season. Reflection on the Easter story, the goosebumps that come with the words "HE IS RISEN!" Singing "Hosanna in the Highest." Therapy is giving yourself permission to eat "peeps" for breakfast, a little dose of indulgence and a sugar buzz at least. Time spent with friends, meditation with the Lord, keeping traditions and making a new... it's more than enough to warm your spirit and lift your soul.