Fogo de Chão

Last weekend Philip and I went on a date.
 A date we had been planning for four.years.

It all started the night we took this picture. . .

September 2010.  Philip had just gotten back from Iraq.  After stopping at "home" in England, he flew to DC where we were briefly reunited.  I had just started the insanity that would be graduate school at GW and was living w/ M&J.  During the weekend Philip was in the US, we had a wonderful date where we attended a performance of The Capitol Steps (seriously, if you are in DC you need.to.go to this show. . . it's fantastic. . . we've taken many guests back) upon the recommendations of our friends.  They also mentioned that when they attended the show, they really enjoyed dinner at a fabulous Brazilian steakhouse restaurant across from the theater.  They told tales of the gaucho chefs expertly grilling 16 cuts of meat and offering continuous tableside service throughout the evening.

Perfect!  What fun!  A marvelous way to celebrate Philip's return from the desert and our reunion after 10 months apart.

We were very excited.  We parked.  We walked up to the restaurant.  And then we looked at the menu posted outside the door. Our eyes almost popped out of our heads.  And then we realized that the couple who had made the recommendation were a dual-income family who were both a couple of pay grades above where we were.  Maybenotsomuch in the budget.  Even for this special occasion.  We knew we were starting down the barrel of a gun when it came to forking out a sickening amount of cash for school over the next four years.  

Soooooooo we went to Subway.  I'mnotevenjoking.

But we vowed we would be back.  We decided that when the last tuition bill was paid, when internship was over, when we were both back home, when graduation was upon us, when I was a doctor, we would return.  And my friends, we did.  And was it ever sweet.

We ate.  And ate some more.  And lingered longer.  And ate a bit more.   

 After a lovely dinner (verymuch worth the four year wait), we strolled down Pennslyvania Ave. and meandered past the White House like a couple of tourists.  We walked around Foggy Bottom, recalling tales from the brutality nightmare  craziness amazing journey that has been this chapter of our life.

It was a special special night.  With ma special special person.  (hot date, no?)

For those of you who are Dave Ramsey fans, you are well acquainted with the adage "to live like no one else, you have to live like no one else."  We've most certainly spent the first seven years of our marriage living like no one else.  We knew that grad school bills were on the horizon and tried to plan accordingly.  Let's start with the cars. . .  we've had a fleet of unglamorous vehicles. . . there were the multiple questionable cars we had in the UK (one of which needed to have the license plate DUCT TAPED to the back . .  Philip's airmen [most of whom were driving brand new cars with ridiculous loans] loved to raz him about the various chariots that brought him to the office over the course of those three years].  We've never had cable.  We had non-exciting pay-as-you-go phones for a very very long time.   We spent seven years essentially living like we were on a really tight second lieutenant budget.  And honestly, I have had zero complaints.  I have never felt like I've wanted for anything. I really don't care as long as the car runs.  I'm grateful that I don't have to feel overwhelming anxiety about whether or not we can afford to buy the groceries we need for the month.  I grew up with very strategic, careful spending/saving habits modeled to me, and they've just really become second nature.  Really, I've been in a live-like-no-one-else existence for twentysome years (long before Dave Ramsey was en vogue. . . and trust me growing up "living like no one else" didn't feel very en vogue.  when I was little, even eating out was a HUGE HUGE HUGE deal  --- we would splurge on McDonalds when there was a coupon+a special occasion, and going out for pizza. . . that was an epic event my friends --- so the fact that I frequent Chipotle as an adult still makes me feel like I'm living some kind of extravagant existence some days).  I still remember the day when I was 13 and I realized for the first time in my life while shopping with a friend and her mom that some people just went into a grocery store and bought whatever they wanted without paying attention to the prices.  My mind was blown.
    
As I was growing up, my mom frequently reminded me the words that her mother, a survivor of the Great Depression, had shared with her: just because they have it doesn't mean they can afford it.  So, for my lifetime --- if I couldn't afford it, I just haven't had it.  Pretty straightforward. But entirely countercultural and a sure fire way to have people think you're some kind of crazy extremist.  (Case in point [even though I think I made my point with the duct taped license plate. . .]: I realized awhile back that I somehow made it through undergrad without ordering pizza a single time and can count the number of times I came to class with a drink from Starbucks the last four years on one hand).   So, needless to say, it was a rare and special treat to have a night of stepping into a space of experiencing the flip side of the living-like-no-one-else coin.  In many ways it was deeply humbling, as I'm filled with overwhelming gratitude for all that has been sacrificed for me and recognizing that we've done nothing to deserve the grace and gifts that the Lord has set forth in our lives.  We pray that we can be a worthy stewards of the opportunities that we have been afforded and resources with which we have been entrusted.