Love Like Crazy: Reflections from a Song

From the moment I heard Lee Brice’s song Love Like CrazyI was captivated by the story of a lifetime of Crazy Love. The song tells the heartwarming tale of a couple celebrating 58 years of marriage and how they kept their Crazy Love alive. It reminds me of my grandparents and brings a smile to my face as I remember hearing the stories of how they met, fell in love, and lived out their own version of ‘happily ever after.’ 

My first experience with Crazy Love was at home. One of my most vivid memories of sacrificial love was a seemingly insignificant act by my Dad. Because his job demanded an endless schedule of international travel, he was overseas for a good portion of my childhood. One summer, he was scheduled to be gone for an entire month, setting up a telecommunications network for a company in Chile. After two weeks had passed, my Dad surprised Mom and I by showing up for a quick weekend. I remember being shocked that he was home, but he explained that when the option arose to take a vacation trip to Antarctica for the weekend or fly home to see us, he chose us. If my Dad had chosen the Arctic cruise, he would have reached his goal of travelling to every continent. Rather, he chose time with his family. To a seven-year old, choosing to come home rather than visit penguins defined Crazy Love.

Later, I watched my Mom care for my Dad through his horrible battle with cancer. Nothing epitomizes Crazy Love like supporting a spouse through sickness. Sacrificing her own schedule and plans, my Mom became the nurse, the comforter, and the supporter to a man slowly dying of cancer. To this day, she wrestles with back pain from the countless times she physically supported his weight. The night he passed away, she said, “Goodbye, my Love! You’re with Jesus now!”, but she still carries that Crazy Love in her heart. Crazy Love transcends death.

Lifetime Crazy Love isn’t old-fashioned… it still exists. Whether it is choosing between penguins and family, supporting an ailing spouse, or texting “I love you” at random times throughout the day, Crazy Love is possible. It takes commitment, perseverance, and a dedication to keeping the fires burning. Since my husband and I have only been married for a year and a half–we’re still writing our Crazy Love story–I plan to emulate the strong marriages around me, to guard my marriage with passionate resolve, and to exemplify the characteristics of true, enduring love found in I Corinthians 13.

To me, Lifetime Crazy Love is an attainable goal.

They called them crazy when they started out.
Said seventeen’s too young to know what love’s about.
They’ve been together fifty-eight years now.
That’s crazy.

He brought home sixty-seven bucks a week.
Bought a little 2 bedroom house on Maple Street
Where she blessed him with six more mouths to feed.
Now that’s crazy!

Just ask him how he did it; he’ll say pull up a seat.
It’ll only take a minute, to tell you everything.
Be a best friend, tell the truth, and overuse “I Love You!”
Go to work, do your best, don’t outsmart your common sense.
Never let your prayin’ knees get lazy,
And love like crazy!

They called him crazy when he quit his job.
They said them home computers, boy they’ll never take off.
Well, he sold his one man shop to Microsoft,
And they paid like crazy.

Just ask him how he made it,
He’ll tell you faith and sweat,
And the heart of a faithful woman,
Who never let him forget.

Be a best friend, tell the truth, and overuse “I Love You!”
Go to work, do your best, don’t outsmart your common sense.
Never let your prayin’ knees get lazy,
And love like crazy!

Always treat your woman like a lady.
Never get too old to call her baby.
Never let your prayin’ knees get lazy,
And love like crazy!

They called him crazy when they started out.
They’ve been together fifty-eight years now.

Aint that crazy?

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True Friendships in a Barbie World: Revisited

The inevitable end of summer has arrived! Walmarts across the country are being overrun with back-to-school shoppers searching for number 2 pencils, composition books, and the perfect colored Postit note. In the spirit of new beginnings, this week’s blog is a delightful reblog of last year’s article dedicated to the formations of new friendships in the first few moments of the school year. Whether we’re passed a pen in class, selected for a fall sports team, or handed a cup of coffee in the break room, making friends is one of the most challenging and somewhat fearful events of life. Here’s to friendship!

If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends? ~Author Unknown

How do we choose our friends?

I think this question is answered according to where you are in life. Granted, I’m a thirty-something who looks back at her charmed childhood with rosy glasses, but I’m going to attempt to define friendship and/or popularity from my perspective.

  • Elementary: It was simple in elementary school. You wanted to be friends with the girl who had the most Lisa Frank items. Tell me you don’t remember those awesome trapper keepers and stickers! And folders. And pencils. And….
  • Junior High: Can we really take junior high popularity seriously? Hormones, pimples, bad hairstyles—let’s just skip to high school!
  • High School: Once you graduate from the upper elementary building and hit the lockered halls of high school, your world changes. Your Lisa Frank collection starts to gather dust, boys are a whole lot cuter, and every night you pray that your Clearasil works. Whatever circle you were in—athletics, drama, academics, pretty people—some were more popular than others.
  • College: In college, you fall into groups that possess similar majors, interests, or personalities. Honestly, I think that as we begin to form our own identity, we realize that our friends are an intregal part of who we are and who we will become.
  • Career: Everything changes once you hit the real world. Or, does it? Considering today’s world of Facebook friends, Twitter followers, online dating, and forum presence, I wonder if we have really outgrown high school mentality of popularity and friendship.

Actually, whatever stage of life we are in, do we really ever grow out of the “Lisa Frank” mentality? Do we surround ourselves with the people that make a difference in our lives, or do continually compare our proverbial trapper keepers? It’s the whole “keeping up with the Jones’” point of view. I don’t want to choose my friends based upon what they can do for me; rather, I want to surround myself with people that inspire me to go deeper into maturity. In contrast to “buying Barbie’s friends,” I’d rather describe my friendships as:

But oh! the blessing it is to have a friend to whom one can speak fearlessly on any subject; with whom one’s deepest as well as one’s most foolish thoughts come out simply and safely.  Oh, the comfort – the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person – having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.  ~Dinah Craik

Whatever stage of life you are in, I hope that you can honestly say that you have this type of friend. True friendship in an increasingly Barbie world is rare; here’s hoping you have found your place in a circle of friends, and that you make a difference in your world together.

I Weird You!

Caution: Mushy blog post ahead.

Finally. After battling the flu for five days, I’ve vanquished the virulent germs and feel more like my caffeinated self. Five days with a migraine, a sore throat, and no energy. Good riddance!

Last night, when I was finally feeling more like a human (rather than a Ferengi with a sinus cold), I asked my husband if he would make me a cup of his heavenly coffee. Before I go any further, let me assure you that yes, his coffee is quite amazingly heavenly. It’s literally some of the best coffee I’ve tasted. I’m not sure how he does it; I’ve tried to duplicate his process on countless occassions, but never yield the same results. Something about the way he wrestles with the Aeropress? Maybe. Or, could it be the secret concoction of sweet additives that he generously adds to the steaming brew? Possibly. Whatever it is, I don’t care! He brought me coffee, kissed my forehead, and said “I love you, Dear.” I melted. I was sick, nasty, full of germs, and my unruly curls were literally radiating static electricity, yet he still says that he loves me.

Today, we’ve been married for nine months. Being in my early 30’s when I met my husband, I’ve seen a lot. Past relationships, prior engagements, and puppy love have dotted the pages of my book of life, but nothing compares to what I found in my husband. We met through a mutual friend who had no idea we would hit it off. After our first date (Ironman II, dinner, and six hours of talking!), we knew something was different. After our second date, we knew it was something special.

This quote by Robert Fulghum describes it perfectly:

We’re all a little weird.  And life is a little weird.  And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness – and call it love – true love.  ~Robert Fulghum

Isn’t that just so true of love? We’re all a little weird, life is weird, but when we find that special one with whom we can share our weirdness, it changes our world and launches us into the realm of possibilities. My husband and I are alike in so many ways, completely opposite in others, and both weird to our core. And I think that is what makes us so perfect.

So, my love, this post doesn’t pose a question that could answer the mysteries of life, nor does it really matter to anyone other than you and I, but I wanted to tell my world that you’re the best, that I love you, and that I am so glad God brought me to you.