Oh yes. I may be tooting my own horn, but as far as I’m concerned, I have arrived. I need an official chef’s crown … or apron. Why, you may ask? I used flour for the first time ever.
Yowza. To me, flour was the pinnacle of all domestic ingredients. I can’t tell you how many recipes I’ve rolled my eyes at because they included flour. Growing up I was never interested in cooking or baking. I thought it was bizarre that anyone would ever make anything from scratch. Boxed mixes all the way.
Then, of course, I got married. And was lucky enough to marry a dear boy that will eat anything I make and tell me he loves it. He is so much fun to cook for! So I’ve tried to get a little more adventurous with recipes.
This Mother’s Day weekend, I was in charge of cooking dinner for our whole family. Eight adults, one of which would be Timothy who eats like three. So let’s just round that off to ten. I kept the menu to stuff I was comfortable with and that I knew would be yummy. And then I saw this recipe on one of my favorite blogs, One Sheepish Girl.
Earl Grey Chocolate Cake? My mom and Bibi love all teas and chocolates, so I knew I had to try. Yet the recipe called for flour. And a whole bunch of other random things. Like baking powder? What even is that?
So I put on my big girl undergarments and went to the store and bought flour. And baking powder. And a bundt pan. And a billion other ingredients. My heart was crying out for a good ol’ fashioned boxed cake mix, but I knew my time had come.
And boy, did it come. And made a mess all over the kitchen. And my clothes. I knew flour was a tricky fiend.
Just keeping it real, ya’ll. Baking this cake was an act of love. And Timothy knew enough to stay out of the kitchen and leave me alone.
But, miracle of all miracles, I did it! Say hello to my little friend:
Zee Earl Grey Chocolate Bundt Cake of Love! It was actually pretty tasty. Maybe a little too dense, but that was probably the flour’s fault.
My family seemed to like it, and I was just as pleased as punch. The earl grey really added a great taste to the chocolate. Yummm. And I still have all the necessary ingredients … anyone want to come over for some cake?
~Whitney
Recently Timothy and I celebrated our engagement anniversary! Okay, we didn’t really celebrate it, we just talked about it. And I became a big sap.
Timothy and I met on December 13th, 2008; got engaged on May 1st, 2009; and married on November 7th, 2009. Can someone say whirlwind romance?
Three years ago today, I was a new fiancé. All I could do was stare at my ring, study every diamond, and look for its reflection in every mirror. I bought every wedding magazine I could afford. My search for wedding ideas led me to the very first blogs I ever read. That rush of planning the most spectacular day of my life is one I’ll never forget.
(our first picture as fiancés!)
I love looking back at where we were three years ago. So crazy in love and confident that we were doing the right thing, even though we had only known each other for 6 months. Our biggest “disagreement” was the time Timothy told me he heard that the first year of marriage was always the worst. And I cried and gave him the silent treatment because I thought he was being way too negative. Oh, young Whitney. You were crazy.
I love looking back at where we were three years ago. Since we lived three hours apart, we usually only saw each other once a week. Every Monday we would drive and meet in the middle at the Target parking lot. Then we’d get sushi, or go to the mall, or walk along the canals. We’d talk about the wedding, but mostly we’d talk about what being married would be like. We were clueless, but oh so crazy in love and confident that we were doing the right thing.
(engagement night)
And after three years, being married two and a half of those years, we’re still that same couple. Crazy in love and confident that we did the right thing. In some ways I feel like we’re still naive to everything that marriage is about. Just last night we were eating dinner and I felt like we were playing house. It caught me by surprise that we were married and that it was a routine for me to cook dinner and him to eat nine helpings. (ha!) Surely we were too young for this. Surely marriage must be harder than this. Not something that’s so easy and fun.
But other days we’re arguing about real things. Things a little bit more important than our first argument. (Which by the way, I’m pretty sure he won. Our first year was a doozy! But a fun doozy.) In those times I realize that I’m going to be married to this guy for the rest of my life. And we may NEVER agree on the number of glasses that should be out at a time. I may be going around the whole house, picking up glasses half filled with water, for the rest of my life.
(making the engagement Facebook official – the glories of social media!)
Marriage is this crazy, beautiful, surprising thing that never ceases to amaze me. I mean, God created some pretty fabulous things, but this marriage business? He really outdid Himself on this one. Just one look at my husband and I am filled with a surety. Yes, this was meant to be. I’ve never had so much fun with another person before. I’ve never loved arguing so much before. Well, I don’t *love* arguing. But I love what it does to us. It teaches us how to be selfless. It teaches us how to let go of foolish little things like water glasses.
Timothypal Singh Gothra, I love you more today than three years ago. And I’m pretty sure I’ll love you more tomorrow. And the day after that. Thank you so much for asking me that lovely question. I live every day happy that I said yes.
~Whitney
This weekend I had the honor of speaking at a conference for young ladies called The Princess Within. It was for Apostolic girls in Indiana, ages 9-19. The conference was about purity, self-esteem, identity, and femininity. We had such a great time!
Several young ladies from our church attended. The younger ones saved their allowance and bought tiaras for the occasion. They were adorable!
Conferences like this are invaluable to our girls. I think our culture doesn’t always value femininity as much as God intended. It is a wonderful, powerful thing to be a lady. I had the privilege of being raised by parents who taught me to celebrate my femininity. Dressing modestly wasn’t a burden, it was just something that ladies did. Keeping my mind and body pure wasn’t a burden, it was just something that ladies did.
I hope that I’ll be able to raise any daughters that I may have with the same philosophy.
But back to the princess conference. The girls attended sessions on dating, self-esteem, and etiquette. They learned new hairdos and ate pink cupcakes. They made friends and had a great time!
The class I taught was on dating and was called “Kissing a Frog or a Toad.” My age group was 9-13, so I had to be a little creative in my approach because 9-13 year-olds aren’t into dating. At least I hope they aren’t. I wasn’t even allowed to start dating until I was 16.
So we talked about Esther and how she spent a year preparing herself to meet the King. We talked about how this was the perfect time for the young girls to be preparing themselves for their future (which most likely included a Prince Charming). We talked about the importance of developing our relationship with God, making the right friends, keeping ourselves pure, and finding good role models.
We really didn’t talk too much about actual dating since the girls were so young. That was why my first comment of the day really surprised me. It was this young girl with a deep voice and hair covering her face. I had JUST started the class and she raised her hand. ”Yeah. Umm, I have two boyfriends right now. And one of them isn’t really in church. What should I do?”
Yowza. Slow down, 12-year-old!
I am not ready to be a parent. Ha!
~Whitney
I didn’t realize it until we had been married for a while, but I’m a sap. At least that’s what Timothy calls me. When he’s not calling me mushy.
I just love love. And I love that I’m in love. And I love to think about love. And I love to watch movies where they fall in love and I can cry with them. And Hallmark commercials. And diamond ring commercials. I tell ya, those marketing guys for diamond companies are genius. Every time I see the commercial about the little boy and the soldier dad overseas teaming up to buy the mom a necklace, I just want to cry. And I don’t even wear jewelry. But moving on.
Before I got married (or was even dating anyone for that matter), my friend loaned me the 5 Love Languages book by Gary Chapman. I thought it was pretty interesting, took the test, and found out my love language. It was all theoretical since I didn’t have a husband, but it was still interesting.
The other day I was snooping around on my Mom’s Kindle account and saw that she had that book on there. I immediately started reading it again. I went online and took the test, just to find out that I had the same results as before. So I e-mailed the test link to Timothy at work, called him 27 times, and asked him to please take it. Enter much sap name calling. Don’t be a hater, Gothra. I’m just trying to love you.
He took the test and we exchanged results. He said mine seemed to be right, but we thought his were off. No problem, I thought. I’ll read about ALL the love languages and love you in that way every.single.day.of.our.lives!
So I read about all the languages. Except I kind of just skimmed the Acts of Service one. Man, I bet he is sooo glad that Acts of Service isn’t my language. If it were, he would have to vacuum and mop to make me feel loved. You’re welcome, husband.
The past few days I have been trying to remember all the different languages and trying to show Timothy love in all five ways. And I can tell he has been doing the same. It’s good to be reminded to be intentional with your love.
But all that love reading has had an unintended result. See, there’s this person. Let’s call her Fiona. Fiona drives me crazy. She’s the thorn in my flesh. She’s very skilled at locating each of my nerves and then pouncing all upon them. I love her, in the Lord, but I don’t really like her. I’m sure we all have our Fionas.
The more I have been thinking about the idea of “showing love,” the more Fiona’s face has popped into my brain. My first thought was great. Just great. I already love her, in the Lord. I mean, do I need to go above and beyond that?
I’ll let you guess what God’s answer to that pathetic question was.
Oh, Fiona. I have no clue what her love language is. But I can grasp the concept of showing love. And not just by loving her in the Lord, as a child of God. But by showing love to her as a person. By finding all the good qualities that Fiona has and then showing love to her in a way that uplifts those good qualities.
That love language book convicted me in a way I didn’t even see coming.
So what about you? Have any of you read the book? What is your love language? Do you have your own Fiona? How do you show love? This is a place where all saps are welcome.
~Whitney
*if you don’t know your love language, or would like to learn more about them, you can go here.
This weekend Nonnie (Timothy’s grandmother) surprised us with an invitation to dinner at this delicious Afghanistan restaurant followed by a trip to the opera. I mean seriously, what a way to rock out at surprises! We adore ethnic food and the opera is one of our all-time favorite date spots.
Not too long ago we went to Winter Jam, an amazing concert full of Christian music artists for only $10 a ticket. I kind of adore Kari Jobe and want to be her best friend.
We took my brother to the concert with us. And he forced me to listen to some kind of Christian country stuff all.the.way.there. Only for you David, only for you. If my absurdly tall teenage brother can convince me to do anything, I feel sorry for myself when our children make their appearance.
I’ve been saving this healthy can of orange-glazed cinnamon rolls until I could make them when Timothy wasn’t home. So I could eat them all myself. Totally worth it.
Three words: Dairy Queen blizzards. Six words: buy one get one for $0.99. Heaven in a cup. And I’m now squishy around the waist. Totally worth it.
Our young adult group at church has been playing Risk a lot. Risk gives me heart palpitations, sweaty palms, and an uncontrollable mouth that won’t stop yelling at people for breaking alliances. So I solved that problem by bringing my knitting. It makes me look pretty cool.
The latest news in the home decorating front is that I’m having a hard time keeping out all the colors. And all the patterns. I’m really wanting to bring in some pink, but I don’t think that will fly. Timothy’s already asked me to stop adding so many different patterns in our living room. Since that time I bought material for a multi-colored paisley pillow, a floral pillow, and a pillow with Indian elephants on it.
I’m sorry, dear husband of mine. But solids just have no place in my heart.
Hopefully I made up for ignoring his plea by sewing on one of his buttons that popped off. We’ve been married over two years, and it was the first thing I had to mend for him! It was pretty monumental. It almost made me wish I could darn his socks. And then I realized how ridiculous that would be. He could darn his own socks. Whatever that even means.
And lately? I’ve fallen more and more in love with this handsome boy.
Lately has been lovely around here. What have you been up to lately?
~Whitney
Welcome
I'm honored that you took time to stop by my blog! My name is Whitney, and I'm a diy loving, piano playing, sewing obsessed, thrifty, non-house cleaning, crafty newlywed. I love God, my husband, and life as a wife. If you'd like to know more, just check out my About Me page. Much love!
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