the First Tom Dorsch daughter dream wedding

Have you heard the news? As of Friday at approximately 6:27, I have a brother-in-law! Whaaaaat?!?!? He's really pretty cool. We both like board games. We both like coffee. We both experienced a quesarrrrrito for the first time at Taco Bell after seeing it advertised on TV. He fits right into our family and is the perfect match for my sister. 

So, anyway, he decided he wanted to marry my younger sister and the two were wed on Friday, July 25. Everyone and everything was getting spiffed up for the big day.

(Doesn't our yard look great?)

Of course, being the steady unemotional person that I am, I didn't start crying until the day before the wedding on the way to the rehearsal. Then I cried a little during rehearsal, some more at the wedding ceremony, and then of course while giving my toast at the reception. Other than that, I was quite collected throughout the whole ordeal! 

It was such a fun and special day. Erika, the bride, my baby sister, was stunning! There is something about putting on that special white dress that makes you look exquisite and gorgeous. Unfortunately, I left my camera in Emporia, but here are a few pictures captured from my cell-phone.

 The four Tom Dorsch women.

  I was honored to be standing beside her. 

 The maids of honor! 

Don't I have beautiful sisters?

I wish I had a picture with my bouquet, because the flowers were exquisite.

 Mr. and Mrs. Albrecht!

 The stage was beautiful.

I didn't get a picture of my dad, but here are my mom and brother looking mighty fine.

I didn't get any pictures at the reception...I was too busy visiting with friends and rehearsing my toast with the other maid of honor! 

Welcome to the Dorsch family, Kyle!

I think the tradition is for the new brother-in-law to get his sisters-in-law coffee!

Btw, did anyone notice the fantastic alliteration (including internal) in my title? I was quite pleased with myself.

25 Bucket List #5

I had to go 49 days without seeing Sherlynn Goering. Talk about severe SG withdrawal! Thank goodness we have a bucket list as it gives us excuses to see each other and hang out. Not that we need an excuse...but still...the bucket list does provide quite a few new and exciting experiences. This time...my excuse to see Sherlynn, and to fulfill #5 on our 25 Bucket List, was the Pretty Prairie Rodeo. 

I had never ever been to a rodeo.

After borrowing cowboy boots, a plaid shirt, a cowboy hat, and putting my hair in pigtails, I was all set to blend in! (I even listened to country music the entire drive to Sherlynn's house in order to get back in touch with my country side!)

Poor Sherlynn. 

I asked her a lot of questions. 

The rodeo was quite entertaining. 

(I also tried my very first funnel cake.) 

I am slightly more of a Kansan now, right? 

Equally entertaining was this cute little girl. 

I was so happy to be able to spend some time with my cousins and experience a bit of their culture! 

Now, Sherlynn, it's time to go to Africa!

Fireworks and Fire

I have a lot of blogging catching up to do. 
Let's start with the fourth!

Mom came up to see my new apartment and spend a few days in Empo-town--one of those days being the fourth of July. We didn't have a big feast with homemade apple pie, we didn't grill hamburgers and hot dogs, and we didn't eat any watermelon or potato salad, but we did watch a couple World Cup games! In between the games, we went on walks. 

Our first walk led us to McDonalds for a cheap vanilla ice-cream cone. (I couldn't remember the last time I had a dipped cone and I was super excited!)

You remember seeing these earrings from last year's fourth of July post? I still have them and wear them proudly every Independence Day. 

Our second walk led us to a Kwik shop because I was craving cherry coke. Unfortunately, the cherry flavor button was broken. Mom was craving a hot dog, but we only brought $2 along with us, so we left with no hot dog and a plain coke. 

Our third walk led us to the ESU stadium for the traditional Emporia fireworks show. They were...typical fireworks. 

We went to bed around 11 and at 11:30 I woke up and saw mom staring out of my bedroom window. About 10-15 yards from my apartment is a home for the elderly and it was on fire. All of the elderly were being evacuated out.

Soon, most of my apartment complex was also evacuated. Mom and I both grabbed a couple of things, jumped in our cars, (Brittany joined us!) and drove a little further down the street to park our cars. Then we walked back to keep watching.

I honestly didn't think I'd have an apartment left by dawn. I thought for sure we weren't going to get back into our apartments due to all of the smoke. We started brainstorming places we could stay: friends' homes, a hotel, our cars... I did ask a cop if I could go back in to grab a couple more things and he let me, but stood watching from the door. 

 I have never seen so many cop cars in one place. 

Mom went to try to sleep a bit in the car and Brit and I kept watching. At about 2:30 a cop and landlord checked all the apartments and then let us back in, with the warning that if the fire got any worse, they'd be back and we would have a minute to get out before they would knock down our doors. So...Brit and I slept (not well) in our clothes with a bag packed, ready to go.

They had wire shooting from a really high ladder. When I went back into my apartment I could watch the firemen from my window climb into the attic that was still smoldering and smoking. (We found out later that the fire was caused by poorly disposed of fireworks. Thankfully, everyone made it out safe.)

No second evacuation came. There is new meaning to the question, "If your house is on fire and you could grab one thing, what would it be?" How would you answer that question?

Today I turn 9.

Today is my 9-year old USA birthday. On this very day, in 2005, I left "home" and re-entered the States. I can't believe it's been that long. The memories of the last night in Ouaga and the first night in the States are still so vivid. I was grieved, angry, sad, mournful, overwhelmed and yet was excited to see family I had not seen for four years, go to a mall, eat some American cereal, etc. Every year, this anniversary is different. One year I celebrated with American food, some years I go back and read through my journal entry from that day, most years I cry. The emotion is not explainable, but it's there. For that I'm thankful. One of my greatest fears is the day when June 27 (the day I left) and June 28 (the day I arrived) is no longer remembered. That is when the feeling of betrayal sets in. 

I was reading through a couple of psalms this morning and the LORD was good to gently remind me of His perfect sovereignty and that He deserves all praise and worship.

"For great is his steadfast love toward us,
and the faithfulness of the LORD endures forever.
Praise the LORD!"
-- Psalm 117:2--

A Silent Grief, A Quiet Sorrow

Have you ever lost someone who was so close to you that you didn't know how to explain life without mentioning their name? Remember the thousands of tears shed, the constant anguish (that feeling of two metal rods twisting in your stomach) that never seemed to leave, the agony of waiting for life to get back to normal while hoping it never does, the anger, the bitterness, the feeling of utter loneliness and despair? You go through the five stages of grief at different times in different ways. Remember all this? Now, imagine that this person is not a person after all, but a place; a place you don't think you will ever see again. You can't talk to anyone about it, because they just "wouldn't get it." They would try, a few might come close, but unless they know (or knew) the place, they will never truly fully understand. And that's what hurts. This place that shaped you and defined so much of you cannot be shared because it is not known by others. There is a depressing thought that for the rest of your life, people may never know who you really are. For so many TCK's, the loss they feel is from the death of a place, a time, an era. The tears come at unexpected times in the most random places. There is no seeming explanation. It was just a move. No one died. Those who have lost dear ones might read this and think bitterly that there is no comparison. Maybe they're right. We feel like we are not justified in our grief, that the loss really wasn't that great, and yet we grieve just the same. Silently. We carry the sorrow quietly in our hearts for days, months, years, because we can't explain it. There is a loneliness in this pain because it cannot be shared. We bury the heartache with time, because they say time heals all wounds. It doesn't.

There is only ONE who can heal, and it is He who also understands. He carries our burdens. He knows. 

17 If the Lord had not been my help,
    my soul would soon have lived in the land of silence.
18 When I thought, “My foot slips,”
    your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up.
19 When the cares of my heart are many,
    your consolations cheer my soul.
20 
22 But the Lord has become my stronghold,
    and my God the rock of my refuge.

Psalm 94: 17-19, 22

The mourning may be long, the sadness deep, but the Father, who is my Father, who created the sunrise and is just as faithful, has never left my side. 

25 Bucket List #4

Sporting KC

Sherlynn and I had a really rough week last week. Lots of tears. Lots of goodbyes. We needed something to look forward to and we needed to get out of Emporia, even for just a little bit. We needed a breath of fresh air and something to clear our heads and take our minds off of things (temporarily). I suggested we go see a Sporting KC game. I've been wanting to go for a long time. Was it on our bucket list? As soon as I bought the tickets it was! :) 

Just like the classic Oklahoma song, we were off to Kansas City on a Friday. The game wasn't until 7:30, but we decided to drive up early to do some shopping at Legends. Well, anyone who knows me very well, knows that getting lost turned around at least once on a trip (even if I've been there before) is a guarantee. Friday was no exception. Even with a high-tech GPS and Siri on my phone, the phone still seems to give me wrong directions! 

BUT, we made it! And with just enough time to grab something to eat. 

I was SO EXCITED!!! 

 I know, I know, I'm not wearing a Sporting jersey, but I don't have one. (It's on my list to buy!) I figured, wearing a Barcelona jersey (specifically Messi) is appropriate in any situations and at all times! :)

I even convinced Sherlynn to get in the picture with me!

Someone walking by muttered to his friends, "You'd think they're tourists or something." 

I was a little offended. The dude simply did not understand that I needed to document this for my blog.

I told Sherlynn I should just start speaking French and then they'd really think we were not from around there.

We had great seats.

Did I mention we were excited??? 

They are the defending MLS champs, after all. 

 Joel, did you know there's a Frenchman on the team?

 Igor just had to tie his shoe just as I snapped the picture. Come on son!

Joel, I think you look like the guy in the above picture.

I realize most of you are not super interested in the multitude of pictures I took, but Ando wanted to see each one, right?! 

The game ended 2-2, but it was exciting with injuries, penalty kicks, red cards, yellow cards, and the nonstop commentary from this one boy sitting on the other side of Sherlynn who thought he knew everything about soccer. 

We didn't get home until really late. I'm just as bad of a navigator as I am a driver if that tells you anything. Poor Sherlynn. She volunteered to drive home and my job was to keep her awake. About 30 minutes in, I was asleep. But I did wake up occasionally to ask if she was still awake! I do what I can. 

There is no home on earth for me.

I stumbled across this picture yesterday while I was packing and nearly started crying. 

(But I'm always crying, so what's new!)

For eight years, this place was home. 

I entered this house as a third grader, left as an 11th grader. 

I've been back once, but the gates were locked and the walls rebuilt.

I'm used to moving--every 3 or 4 years our family would move. 

It wasn't always to a new place, but it was always a transition nonetheless. 

The biggest move of my life was on June 28, 2005.

Next Saturday, not quite 9 years later, I'm moving again.

Not across the ocean or even across the country--just across town.

I've moved several times since 2005, so why does this time seem so difficult?

A couple of years ago I wrote a story for my Dad about a little girl who was uprooted from her home and forced to re-plant her roots somewhere else. 

(If you want a copy let me know!)

My question is this: will there come a time when after being transplanted so many times, the root, so torn, so broken, so hurt, can no longer grow ?

All my life, I have watched friends come and go. 

Sometimes they were the ones leaving, sometimes it was me.

Sometimes the leaving was for a year, sometimes for good.

For the last four months, I have watched my roommates and dear friends, one by one, head out the door.

First there were five, then four, then three, we are down to two, and next week there will be just one. Me.

All of a sudden, my world is stripped of all familiarity and comfort.

I had built a home out of my friends. 

Now, my home seems taken from me.

I feel abandoned,

alone,

confused,

and always restless...

like I never really belong anywhere.

Then I turn to Psalm 62. 

My soul, wait in silence for God only,
For my hope is from Him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
My stronghold; I shall not be shaken.
 On God my salvation and my glory rest;
The rock of my strength, my refuge is in God.
 Trust in Him at all times, O people;
Pour out your heart before Him;
God is a refuge for us. Selah.

(verses 5-8)

Daily, I cling to these Truths.

How I long for my heavenly home where all will be at rest.

My mom sent me this quote yesterday and it fits perfectly. The author is unknown. 

"You will never be completely at home again because part of your heart will always be elsewhere.  That is the price you pay for the richness of loving and knowing people in more than one place."

I didn't write this for you to feel sorry for me or to seem ultra dramatic and melancholy. I wrote it because I know there are many people out there who need to cling to the truths in Psalm 62 just as much as I do.

How thankful I am for the One who never changes. 

He is ever-faithful, always constant, always true. 

He is by my side; He will see me through.

In HIM I find my home.