Greed

Engaged to be Wed

Well, as you all may know, I, Nathan Keith Cartmell, son of Alan and Karen Cartmell, am engaged to be married.  I thought I would write up the whole story, to save for posterity and to share with all of you who I have not had the pleasure of telling in person…and also so that when the umpteenth distant acquaintance asks me for details, I can refer him to this :o)  I hope this makes you excited about my engagement and forthcoming wedding.

    Several months back, near the beginning of November, I came home for a dentist appointment.  I was only at home for one night, but I managed to go out to lunch with Dad.  We talked about marriage, and specifically about me getting married to this girl I was dating.  It was a good conversation, although nerve-wracking for me to bring up…but in the end, Dad gave me some good advice: “Fast and pray about it,” he said.  “See if this is the woman for you.  See what God thinks about this idea.”  So I did.  When I got back to school, I fasted for a week (because I was really serious about this marriage business).  When I got hungry or my stomach made a ruckus, I prayed about marrying this girl.  There were no startling spiritual revelations; rather, a gradual assurance that yes, this was the girl for me, and yes, God approved of this choice.
    This was the second assurance from God, to me, that this girl was The One.  The first started with a conversation I had on an airplane, with a missionary and my father, over the summer.
    We were talking about how one knew when to be married, and both the missionary and my father agreed that a good thing to ask God for was a sign: a sign that yes, this was the woman, for the reason that when times got tough, you could remember the sign and know that God had shown you, with real proof, that your marriage was good and blessed.  I spent quite a bit of time thinking of a sign, and eventually came up with one that I thought was meaningful.
    At the beginning of Fall Semester ’06, I drove to her home to help her move back to school—she lives in New Mexico.  While there, we had some good conversations, but one in particular has assumed residence in my memory.  We were talking about how we started dating, and what circumstances brought us to that point, and she said the sign I had been waiting for.  “I really feel as if God led me straight to you.”  I had thought that very sentiment countless times—indeed, that very phrase!  And I knew that if we both thought that God led us together, to help each other, to encourage each other, and to His glory...that was the woman for me.  I started crying when I heard those words, because they affirmed a predilection in me that had been tumbling around my mind for a very long time.

    She came to our house for Thanksgiving 2006.  It was really nice, to see my family and for them to get to know her.  And she had a paper to write, so on Saturday, when I said I had some errands to run, she didn’t question me or try to come along :oD  Buying the ring was scary, and I had a whole three weeks for that tiny, portentous stone to burn a hole through my desk drawer.  Let me tell you, as the days passed, that little four-word phrase kept trying to bubble out of me.  School was ending, and work was piling up, but we had planned a last date in LA before the semester ended and I left for Oxford.  I wanted to take her out on Thursday, 14 December, because that would be fourteen months of dating on the 14^th (awwww), but she had a final the next day, her final final, and after that it would be smooth sailing.  So, we postponed.
    We decided to go to Laguna Beach, because she had recently been to the town for an art show, and had really liked the beach.  We had also been there before, on an open gallery night: the first Tuesday of each month, all the galleries in Laguna Beach stay open till 9 or so, and you can wander around and look at art.  Some places have wine (*sigh* contract) and cheese, or live music, and it’s really fun.  But ANYwho….  I found a listing of LB restaurants, and she really liked the look of a Greek place, the Aegean Café (http://www.aegeancafe.com).  So it was all set.  All that remained was a few details for me to work out, and the day—the hour—drew inexorably closer.
    She had Don Rags (Torrey Honors final) on Thursday, so it was a tough day for her: always working till the last minute to make sure everything is perfect.  And when she went into the final, I called her father.  Hoo boy…it was all ok until the phone actually started ringing, and then I started wondering what I was doing and what I was going to say….  Her mother picked up the phone, which meant that I had to come up with an excuse for calling rather quickly.
    “She just went into Don Rags, and so I’m sure she would appreciate a prayer.”  (It turned out to be less of an excuse and more of a legitimate reason for calling.)
    But then her mom said, “Oh, it’s good that you called, because my husband was going to call you later this evening.  Let me go get him.”  About the time my heart exploded, I realized that it was ridiculous to think that he actually knew why I was calling him, and that it had to be about something other than that.
    He just wanted to talk to me about his daughter’s house, so that wasn’t bad.  I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to ask him, because I didn’t have to awkwardly say, “Could I speak to your husband?”  But her mom stayed on the line the whole time, and there was no way I was going to bring it up.  So I hung up without securing his permission, which meant that I had to call back later.
    Which I did.  And fortunately, her dad picked up this time.  So we talked a while, and frankly I don’t really recall everything that was said.  I remember that it was a good conversation—much better than I had expected.  And I remember that he said that she and I were a “perfect match for each other,” which made me very, very happy.
    While I didn’t know what her answer would be when I actually asked her, I had decided long ago that I wouldn’t ask a girl to marry me unless I was certain that she would say “yes.”  This may sound presumptuous to some, but I didn’t want to be that vulnerable, open, honest, and loving with a woman who did not love me enough to marry me.  And I’m sure that many of you male readers (who are married/engaged) had something of the same thought :o)

    The evening of 15 December 2006 transpired: as Tony the chef, from Lady and the Tramp, sings to the happy couple, “this is the night.”  She had finally finished all of her tests, her work, her packing, her errands, and a host of other small tasks, and was ready to go out with me.  Ahh, the nervous anticipation, the slight shaking in my knees.  But I was cool, I was calm, I was collected, I was composed, I was in control (except of my knees).  I even gave her a bouquet of flowers to show how nonchalant and in control I was.
    I was tickled with myself because she had borrowed the car, and the ring was in the center divider the whole time.  I thought that, with moving out of my dorm room, it was the safest place to keep it…and there it sat, as we drove to Laguna Beach (which took about an hour, what with LA traffic).  But the ride was very nice once we got off the I-5; I had made a CD of songs that I thought would help shape the mood of the evening: that I loved her more than anyone else on the planet.  So, I would play one or two songs at a time, and then switch back to the radio (because I didn’t want the CD to end prematurely).  She was, inevitably, curious at my actions, but I didn’t explain…I simply let the mystery weigh pleasantly upon her.
    We got to the Aegean Café, and fortunately did not have to wait.  The food was good, but I was not paying all that much attention to mere sustenance, when I was preparing myself for the biggest question I would ever ask another person.  I loved talking to her, and sitting there across from her at the table made me want her even more.  Her intelligence, her understanding, her laugh, her captivating stare, her beauty…several times I almost asked right there, but I choked it back and continued stoically onward.
    We talked about some interesting things that night, and I think it was there that she got the first hint that there was more to the evening than met the eye.  At past moments in our relationship, we had stumbled upon topics of conversation that Shouldn’t bE eXamined by a dating couple—while not technically wrong in any way, it would be awkward, and much too personal for our relational status.  Despite the boundaries, the topics would affect our marriage in too great a way to commit before knowing her views on them.  Does she agree with my views?  Are there large disagreements that could be a major problem later on?  So, when in the past we had come up against this wall, we had decided that, before we got engaged, we definitely would need to talk about these things…but that was for the future.
    Thus, when I broached these subjects at dinner, I am sure that she began to suspect that something was…unusual.
    But talking about it was good.  It felt natural that I should be able to talk about anything with this woman, heart of my heart.  And through that conversation, my very last qualm was removed—and a whole new set invaded my abdomen.

    We finished dinner, and hurried out of the restaurant because a belly dancer was making her rounds (they had live music and dancing), and she did not want me to get an impromptu personal show.  (Her defence of me in this way is only one example of her beautiful character and concern for me.)  We walked to a gelato shop we had discovered on our previous trip to Laguna, and ate our Italian sorbet it as we walked back to the car.  We then drove to the beach.
    When we pulled up, I shooed her out of the car, and gathered my things: a boom box, a book of poetry, a flashlight, a bouquet of flowers, and a small red ring case.  We walked down to the beach, found a nice spot in the sand, and sat.  Miraculously, it wasn’t very cold, and the sand felt nice beneath our bottoms (making up for my lack of a blanket to sit on or drape over us).  I resumed the CD, and we talked a little while.  I then pulled out the poetry, and asked her if we could read some.  The cover says, conspicuously, “Love Poems,” and she giggled and said yes.  A good poem is “Love Thou Art High” by Emily Dickinson, but as the whole thing is wonderful, I could not pick one section to reproduce here.  Another favourite stanza of ours is from “Walsinghame” by Walter Ralegh:

                But true love is a durable fire
                    In the mind ever burning
                Never sick, never old, never dead,
                   From itself never turning.

    The waves rolled gently on the shore before us, and a certain song came on: “Starling” by The Echoing Green.  I find this song particularly meaningful, because it expresses a particular thought I have about her: our marriage will be all about her.  I want to serve her and care for her and love her—before myself—in every way.  And when this song came on, I told her a story.
    I’ve been telling her this parable almost as long as we’ve been together, adding minor details along the way as I gain new insight…but I had never told her what it meant.  It’s not very long…so here it is.

“Prince Nahtan lay down to sleep.  And as he slept, he dreamed a dream.  It seemed to him as if he was standing next to a river.  The water was blue and chattered over stones, bubbles rushing through the waves.  The Prince held up his hand then, and resting upon his open palm lay a golden band.  Nahtan did not touch it with his fingertips, but examined it, marvelling at its craftsmanship and perfection.  There were words engraved upon it, and he bent to decipher them.  As he was so engaged, a raven screamed forth from the sky and snatched away this treasure of treasures.  Nahtan, crying out in distress, tried to follow the brazen bird from the ground, but it flew too swiftly into the welkin.  The Prince cried out his frustration and sorrow, and a great light shone forth from the heavens.  A dove burst forth from the brightness, and attacked the raven.  Nahtan could only gaze in wonder at this magnificent, unexpected sight.  The raven, overcome by the ferocious onslaught of the dove, dropped the ring.  The joy that Nahtan felt, however, instantly disappeared as he perceived that the ring plunged towards the river.  But instead of disappearing into the depths, the ring landed, chance of chance, squarely in the centre of an oak leaf.  Hardly believing this fortuitous turn of fate, Nahtan ran along the bank of the river, conjuring up a way to retrieve this priceless bounty.  The leaf swept along ahead of him, and he saw that it soon drifted into a small stream which branched off the river.  As he got closer, he saw that the leaf came to rest upon a sandy bank, beneath an oak tree.  He approached with delicacy and gratitude, and knelt upon the shore.  He picked up the ring, and looked at the words written upon it.  With satisfaction, pleasure, wonderment, and reverence, Prince Nahtan, genuflecting beneath the oak tree, for the first time slipped on the ring.”

    And then, once I had finished telling the allegory, I asked, to her surprise, if she would like to know what it meant.  I figured she had guessed most of it already, but we both wanted me to say it aloud.  (I won’t assume your intelligence, perception, or deduction to be lower than it is by relating the meaning here.)
    As I spoke the final words of meaning, I drew her to her feet, and swept out the bouquet of roses that I had kept cleverly (and difficultly) hidden till that time.  She was quite startled at my seeming conjuration of a bunch of flowers, and was even more shocked when I took a knee in the sand.
    I reached into the pocket of my coat.
    I withdrew the ring box.
    I held it up and opened the lid.
    And then I popped the question: “Erin Elizabeth Noelle Meyer, will you marry me?”
    “Oh my goodness!” she cried.
    “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed.
    “Oh my goodness!” she cried again.
    “Will you marry me?” I asked again.
    “Yes!” she said.
    And we collapsed into a weepy, delighted, ecstatic, joyful heap on the sands.

    And that, my friends, is the story of how Nathan Cartmell and Erin Meyer became engaged.  But this is only the preface, the prelude to a far greater story, a far more exciting journey that has not yet begun: the marriage of two souls.  Erin and I invite you, as close friends and family, to rejoice with us in our decision, and to look forward with us to that inaugurated (“already, not yet”) day.


Sincerely,
Nathan Cartmell

new music?

just a quote, nothing more...

here's a passage from the book i'm reading, "The Warrior Prophet" by R. Scott Bakker.

"According to Achamian, women had no instinct for principle. For them everything was embodied. How had he put it? Oh yes, that existence preceded essence for women. By nature, the tracks travelled by their souls ran parallel to those demanded by principle. The feminine soul was more yielding, more compassionate, more nuturing than the masculine. Consequently, principle became more difficult for them to see, like a staff in a thicket, which was why women were more likely to confuse selfishness for propriety. But for men, whose inclinations ranged so far and so violently, principle was an ever-present burden, a yoke they either toiled under or cast off altogether. Unlike women, men could always see what they should do, because it differed so drastically from what they wanted."

i think it's interesting, and maybe true. But i haven't given judgment yet, i'm just thinking about it. any comments?

and another quote, one that strikes me as hopeless and wrong;