Reflecting on One Year...

A week ago today, John Mark and I had the privilege of celebrating our first anniversary. It was such a joy to get to set aside everything else in life for even one day to spend such good time with one another-  reflecting on and celebrating the year that has gone by and hoping for what will come in the next years of our marriage together. I have been wanting to write this blog since that day, but the busyness of life has made that nearly impossible. And sadly, the busyness fills my day and week will keep this post from being as in depth and reflective as I truly want it to be.

There are so many words I could say to describe this year of our lives, so many sentences and paragraphs that could sum it up. But as I sit here and write what comes to mind is growth- my own individual growth, the growth of our relationship, and particularly growth in my awe and admiration of the character of my husband and the character of God.

Many have said that marriage exposes you- this seems obvious in some ways, but I don't think anything can really prepare you for such exposure until you are in it. Selfish motivations of my heart are exposed in anything from the laundry, to what we buy at the grocery, to discussions of where we spend our holidays and what it will look like for us both to pursue full-time ministry in our future. My pride has been exposed in the whole slew of unrealistic expectations I set for myself and how frustrated I would get both at myself and John Mark when I failed to meet them. I saw in myself a deep seated fear of failure and fear of pain. I saw in myself a weakness that if I am honest, beforehand had merely been theoretical. I don't have it all together- I saw this. And even worse, someone else saw it too.

But the way God works is beautiful. What has happened for me over the course of this year is that the more I have been exposed for what I truly am, the more the gospel has been exposed for what it truly is- a story of truth and hope. A story that gives an explanation for my selfishness and fear and pride. But a story that says that is not the end of the story- not for me, not for our marriage, and not for this world. By God's grace I believe in this first year of marriage I have begun to truly embrace the paradox of the gospel that I have professed for so long- that as redeemed people we are both sinners and saints, that as Martin Luther said, "we are not yet what we shall be, but we are becoming." I am learning that life between the cross and crown is both beautiful and hard. I am learning to be honest about that. And I am learning to hope.

Similarly, in my relationship with John Mark, I am learning that growth and joy often come through the difficult places in our marriage. But I have seen that the growth and joy and honesty and care and hope on the other side are deeper than they were before. I have seen God be so faithful to grow John Mark and I in such a way that we understand one another more, are more patient with one another, are more honest with one another, hopeful for one another, and care more deeply for one another more today than we did as we returned home from our honeymoon on this very day one year ago. We have grown in love- real, honest, committed love- over the course of this year. It has a been a blessing beyond words.

In the midst of this personal and relational growth, I have also grown in awe of the character of the man I married. There is only so much you can know about a person in a 9 month relationship. But I knew enough when I said yes and when I walked down that aisle. I knew that the man standing at the end of it was a good man, with a compassionate heart, who was faithful and loyal, humble and honest, and who had the utmost integrity. I have grown over the course of this year to see these things more and more in John Mark- in the places that nobody else sees, in the times when he thinks even I am not looking. I married a man who is a lover of God, a lover of people, who moves toward people with humility, compassion, and a listening ear. I married a man who is not afraid to speak the truth, and desires more and more to know truth. I have married a man who is faithful in every way. I truly could not admire him more.

Finally, I have over the course of our first year of marriage, I have grown in awe and admiration of the character of God. I have found comfort in the depth of his love and grace. We have stood upon the faithfulness of his word and of his works. We have been guided by the intricacies of his wisdom. And we have found hope in his promises.

I believe my very favorite moment of our wedding ceremony one year ago, was the moment captured in this picture above. It was at the end of the worship service, after the homily, after the vows. With my new husband by my side, in front of the church I hold so dear, surrounded on every side by family and friends- we sang with one joyful voice "In Christ Alone." It was a moment of utter delight, a moment I will never ever forget.

As I reflect on our marriage today, I know more know than I even did then of the beauty and the truth of the words we sang that day. And I pray we together grow in the knowledge of them for years and years to come...

     In Christ alone, my hope is found. He is my light, my strength, my song.
     My cornerstone, this solid ground, firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
     What heights of love, what depths of peace, when fears are stilled, when strivings cease.
     My comforter, my all in all, here in the love of Christ I stand."

If Gymnastics Were Any Easier...

When I was in middle  school, I had a t-shirt that finished this sentence, "... it would be called FOOTBALL." I wore it often, and wore it proudly. With that t-shirt and along with my big bangs, tight bun, and 372 clippies in my hair, I was the real deal.

I do not wear that beloved t-shirt anymore- possibly because I have grown up, or grown out it, or because you cannot even see the saying anymore because of endless wear. I'll let you be the judge of that. But though it has been years since I have pulled this t-shirt over my head, its sentiments are ever close to my heart. And after last weekends gymnastics Olympic Trials, I am once again convinced that gymnastics is the hardest, most intense, most exhilerating sport there is.

This was confirmed last weekend as I watched Nastia Liukin attempt to do what no All-Around gold medalist has done in over 20 years- merely return to the Olympic Games! Her fall from the bars on a relatively easy release move (for her- clearly not for me or you:)), ended both her Olympic dreams and her career.  Unlike many other Olympic Sports, the reigning Olympic Champion would be nowhere in the arena just a short for years later!

As a tribute to Nastia, and to all of us who have loved this great sport. Here are some of my favorite gymnastics moments, and further confirmation that gymnastics is harder than your sport!

And for all you nay-sayers out there... can you do this?!?!

Hurry Up London... I cannot wait!

The Inevitable Post-Break Up Note

* Disclaimer- For all those who are concerned by the title of this post, the contents that follow have no relationship to my marriage I mentioned yesterday. For those of you who know me well, however... the contents that follow may be quite shocking. Brace yourselves...

Dear One Whom I Once Loved,

It has been a little while since I called things off. And if I am honest, it has not been easy. And I would be lying if I said I did not think about you often. I do think about you occasionally. Ok, I think about you a lot. Sometimes in the morning, I am convinced I really need you. When the afternoons are getting long, I think about how on so many afternoons you would get me through. I think about you at lunch and dinner too- for what a good companion you had been at so many, many meals throughout our long-standing relationship. 

Every time I think about you, I wonder... Did I make a colossal mistake? What was I thinking when I gave you up? Especially after you had brought me so much comfort and joy? 

But then, I remember...it wasn't all joy and roses. I remember how you could make me feel so bad. How you would literally leave me with pain- in my head, and in my stomach, and yes, even in my heart after you had gone. I remember how people had been telling me, for years and years and years that I needed to get rid of you, that you weren't good for me, and that you were in fact very bad for me- but I didn't listen. But this time I have...

There have been other times when I have tried to give you up, but have failed so very miserably. But I just want you to know that, this time is not like the others. I cannot, I will not (I say to myself so confidently, hoping that it is true) be convinced again that I need you in my life. This isn't a break..though I am sure our track record would have many convinced of the contrary. This is the real deal- the official break up. 

I wish we could still be friends- you know, see each other occasionally and just hang out. But I know myself, I can't do it... I don't know how to have just a little of you. So, we can't be friends...maybe some day, way way way down the road. But not now. 

So I want you to know, one I have held so dear, that once and for all- we are through. For good, for real. 

Thanks for all the good times,

Caroline

PS. Please don't judge me if I keep these pictures by my bed...you know, for memories sake. 

Yes, friends... it is true. I have given up Diet Coke. Figured that would be pretty newsworthy for my first few days back on the blog! 

For those of you unfamiliar with my love-affair with DC, please see this previous post from 2009... Shout Out to a Friend! 

Backstreet's Back Again...

Ok, well Backstreet may or may not in fact be back again, but it was the first title that came to mine for "re-entry" to the blogosphere post.  I have been absent for quite a while- since August 25, 2010 to be exact. This date rings in my mind because my grandfather, Pops, who was perhaps the most faithful reader of this blog, reminded me of it frequently- until eventually, I guess he realized this was futile endeavor and decided to save his breath.

I attribute my absence to a myriad of things. Perhaps it was the endless papers that I was required to write for seminary, the pages and pages  and pages, oh and did I say, pages of reading I was struggling to complete, and the Hebrew I was trying to learn to read and to speak without sounding like a man. (For all you girls out there, it is impossible- so embark on the study of Hebrew knowing only that you will sacrifice a wee bit of your femininity in the process.) Or it could have been that for a while in life I felt like all my funny stories had to do with the precious family I baby sat for, and while they were great stories, they were not my stories to tell. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because the things the Lord was teaching me and that I was struggling through at seminary were not things I wanted to share with just anyone who would read. Authenticity should only really go so far right?!?!

Why have I suddenly decided to return to blogging? Last thursday, I received this picture via text message with a request to start blogging again...

And let's just be honest, who could say "no" to faces like this?

In reality, I had thought a lot about blogging again. School has slowed down quite a bit. I only have 3 classes left, and in turn have much more time just to think, to breathe, and to write. I have always really loved to write- since elementary school when I was writing short stories, high school when I was writing fun poems for my friends and papers on Moby Dick for school, and even through seminary- it has been a process that has brought me much joy. As I have journeyed through seminary, I have grown to believe that the Lord has both gifted me and called me to write, that this will be one of the primary ways I can serve his kingdom and his church. As I have examined my heart, I have seen much fear in it when it comes to this very thing- fear that maybe I am not that good of a writer, fear that no one will like or read what I write, etc. But I am praying that the Lord will give me courage to overcome my fears, to take risks for his glory, and just to think less of myself in general.

So, if you are so inclined...check back in here from time to time as I will be writing again- some spiritual things, life reflections, devotional thoughts, life updates and funny stories as they come.

A Bit of a Life Update
My last entry was entiled "The Difference a Year Makes." Perhaps this one should have been entitled, "The Bigger Difference Almost Two Years Makes," for much, so very much has changed. In that post, I wrote about a "new student" reception that I was able to host. What I didn't know then is there was a new student there that night- a cute, kind, Sperry-wearing Mississippi boy that would eventually catch my eye and change my life forever. In the weeks and months that followed that reception, we started spending time together, getting to know each other, and quickly fell in love. In July of last year, John Mark Scruggs and I became husband and wife. We have now journeyed a little over 11 months into this glorious thing called marriage- in which we have seen our love for one another grow, in which we have seen our relationship both strengthen and deepen, in which we have seen ourselves be humbled and have seen ourselves grow, and in which we have seen the wondrous faithfulness of God. I will write more on our life and marriage later- perhaps as our anniversary approaches. I'm assuming that most of you who read this know our story anyways... But for those of you who don't, here's a few pics to perhaps hold you over until I get to writing more...

Well, because this post is getting ridiculously long and because John Mark just texted me to say he is on his way home for lunch, I am going to conclude... More updates to come....

Thanks for re-visiting "Simply Full." See you again soon.

With Joy-
Caroline Scruggs

The Difference a Year Makes

Last night, I had the privilege to helping out with the Presidents Welcome Reception for the New Students here at Covenant! It ended up being an absolutely fabulous evening! However, as fancy and wonderful as it sounds... it did not necessarily promise to be that way...

About an hour before the event, I received an email telling me my duties for the evening. I was designated a food server- which essentially meant I was a cocktail waitress (minus the cocktails of course!) I had to walk around the party, carrying a tray, offering food or drink to all the new students as well as faculty and staff! Easy huh?

Well, not so much! For those of you who don't know me well... Let's just say I am not the most coordinated of folks. Walking around a party in heels, carrying food and drinks on a tray seemed like a recipe for disaster! I began to have a tad bit of anxiety and could just picture myself pouring a tray full of punch right down Dr. Chappell (our President's suit!) I guess at least then I would be a memorable student huh?!?!

Well, thankfully...the party went off without a glitch. I opted for flip-flops instead of the heels. Again being every so thankful that seminary "cocktail attire" and North Dallas "cocktail attire" do not necessarily mean the same thing!

I seriously had the greatest time walking around with my tray full of petifores talking to all the new students and some of the faculty and staff. It filled me with joy and offered me such a precious opportunity to reflect on God's goodness and faithfulness to me over this past year!

Last year at this time, I was lonely and scared and so thankful that my only friend from St. Louis, Tony, was at the reception so I had someone to hang out with. This year, I was surrounded by people I loved and just filled will so much joy.

Last year, I thought Dallas and PCPC were some of the only places I could really be myself and be happy. This year, I just love St. Louis and all the many things I am involved in here!

Last year at this time, I was dreading the first day of school and already making plans to transfer. This year, I absolutely can't wait for class to start tomorrow and know there is no where else I would rather be!

Talking to all the new students made me realize how comfortable I am here, how much joy school and the people here have brought me, how much I have been shaped by what the Lord is doing here, and how much I am looking forward to all that he has in store over the next year! If it is anything like this past one, I just can't wait...

To God be the Glory, Great Things He has Done!

In the Eyes of the World...

Several summers ago, I traveled to China with some of the students and staff from PCPC. It was one of the most eye-opening experiences of my life. For the first time in my life, I believed I was really confronted with the reality that though I am so prone to live like I am the center the world, that it is actually so, so much bigger than me. That there are millions of people that live lives all over the world- some much similar and some much different than my own. I believe for the first time on that trip I was really confronted with the urgency of the gospel- for so many of these millions would live their whole lives never hearing of the truth of the gospel.

On our trip to France, I feel like my eyes were re-opened, my heart again burdened with the reality that there are so many who do not know and who will never hear the gospel of Christ, the question again running through my mind, what part is God calling me to play in taking it to them? As I walked the streets of Paris, something Mark said a few summers ago as we walked the streets of Beijing came flooding back to me: "Look into the eyes of the people you meet- behind those eyes is a real life, a real heart, a real story, a real eternity."

For a few short days, my life intersected the lives of many other young people from across the world who served us on our ship, and I had the privilege of looking into their eyes, and hearing their stories. While France was filled with beauty and filled with stories, the beauty and stories that impacted me most, the beauty the stories that I will never forget were the eyes, the smiles, the stories of these people.

One particular encounter that really impacted me was actually one of the briefest I had on the trip- it was with our guide to Monet's gardens, Patricia. She was a fascinating woman. She looked about 35, but is married and has for kids, the eldest of whom is 21 and an artist and chef in the south of France. She was a wine maker for decades, but then four years ago decided to change career paths and became a tour guide. First in German, and then in English. She had learned English a year ago and had done so by inviting English speaking tourists into her home. ( I remember being filled with shame as she told me this because we had all be laughing at some of the idioms she used that didn't translate so well into English). She was a kind, funny lady who was interested in painting and sculpting and who with her historian husband is opening a bed and breakfast in August in her 15th century home. I loved meeting his woman and loved talking with her about her life.

On our way home, Patricia drove us by a church with a steeple with a rooster on the top. Evidently the rooster is symbol of France, but also connected to the biblical story of Peter. As Patricia drove us by she pointed out the steeple, and told us that "as you know, it is related to the story of Judas in the Bible." My dad and I talked about it for a minute, and he encouraged me, since we had talked for a while, to mention to her the actual association of the rooster- because as a guide and as a historian, she would want to be correct. As we talked for a little bit, it became evident to me that Patricia was not familiar with the biblical story at all, but had probably just been told enough to mention it to American tour groups to whom it would be of interest.

This was so fascinating and simultaneously heart-breaking for me. My heart broke for her, and also because though this one precious lady was probably representative of millions all over Europe, who though they are surrounded by the most magnificent Cathedrals, and though they live their lives in places steeped in church history, they have little, if any, familiarity with and understanding of the gospel. I knew her story probably represented the story of millions for whom the story of the gospel had never been spoken into the stories of their lives..

As I sat on the deck of our ship that afternoon, Romans 11 once again weighed heavily upon my heart:

Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved...
... BUT, how are they to call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who preach good news!

I came home from Paris wanting to return to Europe as soon as possible, to bring to the gospel to the many young people who are there. And I pray the Lord opens that door again some day. For now, as I am called back home and have no idea what the future holds, it is my prayer that as I sit here comfortably in my favorite coffee shop that the Lord would continue to impress upon my heart those same things he impressed upon me those several days upon the deck- both the worthiness of Christ and the urgency of the gospel, and that my supreme desire would indeed to be caught up in the mission of God and see the story of the gospel come to bear on the stories of people's lives!!

Trip of a Lifetime...

Hello blogging friends, if there are still any of you out there. Per the request of my grandfather (who whenever I see him, almost immediately tells me the exact date of my last blog entry) I attempt, yet again, to return to the blogging world! I would like to attribute my absence to the busyness of school, the fact that I am not sure I really wanted to share much of what has been going on in my heart and head with any and everyone who wants to read this, and the fact that seriously all of my funny stories come from the kids I nanny for, and those are just not my stories to share! But I figured the laid back and fun nature of summer would give me both more time to write and more stuff to write about, and thus I am back.

And if anything is worthy of writing about it is what I spent 8 of the last 14 days doing- sailing on a river boat cruise on the Seine River from Paris through the North of France with my entire extended family!! Seriously, it was the trip of a lifetime and one that I will never forget!

My moms parents, known to us as Pops and Jackie, will be celebrating their 60th anniversary this November and decided to celebrate by graciously taking us all on this trip to France. Pops fought in WWII in France coming about 2 weeks after D-Day, and though he and Jackie had returned 20 years ago, he thought it would be really special to bring us all back with him now. And special does not even begin to describe it. It was such a privilege to spend 8 days of concentrated time with my grandparents, parents, John and Lindsay, aunts, uncles , and cousins. It was an honor to travel with my grandfather to the beaches of Normandy and to remember to the courage and sacrifice of so many young men who fought and who gave their lives for the freedom we known all our lives. It was surreal to walk through a cute, quaint little town filled shops, pubs, and churches and hear my granddad say that the last time he had been there, it was completely devastated because of bombing.

This trip made me thankful for so many things- for my family, for the unique opportunity I have as a 28 year old girl to have this experience especially with my grandparents It made me thankful for freedom and for the opportunities that we are blessed to have here in our country. It made me thankful for the gospel, and that God has graciously given me the opportunity to hear it and to know it and to be transformed by it.

This trip opened my eyes to so many things. I feel like it opened my eyes to the world. For that I am very thankful. But, more on that to come... For now, here are a few pictures of highlights from the trip:

All of the cousins on our first night in Paris! Our boat was docked here for several nights. We loved just hanging out up here- pretty surreal to have the Eiffel Tower light up behind you!!

This is probably one of my favorite photos of the trip. In typical Lamberth family fashion we drank diet coke everywhere. Even under the Eiffel Tower!! By the second day of the trip, I would walk up to the bar on our ship and our friends, the bar tenders would just smile and say, "Diet Coke? Room 230?:))

Our first day in Paris, we had a fabulous guided tour of the Louvre! We loved it!

The cemetery and D-Day Memorial at Omaha Beach. 9,000 of these crosses line these green fields to honor the lives of the 9,000 young American soldiers who lost their lives in the D-Day invasions.

I absolutely love this pics of Pops gathering up sand to take home from the Normandy Beaches.

Freezing cold and rainy, but still one of the more memorable aspects of and photos from the trip... all of my cousins and I with my grandfather at Omaha Beach.

Just one of the many scenic views from our boat as we sailed down the Seine. I believe this castle once belonged to Richard the Lionheart.

My sweet family on board the deck the night of the "Captain's Dinner."

One of my very favorite nights of the trip- on our final night in Paris, all of the cousins watched the US v. England World Cup game under the Eiffel Tower! It was pretty amazing! Watching the next game from the treadmill at the gym this week just didn't quite compare!!

The whole Jones family wishing you "Bonjour" and "Au Revoir" from Paris!!!