new site, same guy

I have decided to move my blog to:

http://philipcarroll.wordpress.com/

Hope you decide to join me there.

-Philip

loud & clear

Last weekend, Kari and I stopped by my grandparents house to visit two people unashamed of their inspiring love for one another. Nuna and Pop celebrated their 62nd anniversary this past year.

I wasn't going to, but I will pause a moment and begin to fathom how long that is.

And I don't know whether to clap or cry. Amazing.

Mr. Carroll still looks at his bride with matchless passion and admiration. And my grandmother continues to wear her wedding band with pride, showing it to friends and family as if she were recently engaged. They have indeed set the bar high and as Pop constantly reminds those around him, "We have been thoroughly blessed and have lived a wonderful life together!"

Twelve years ago, Mrs. Carroll fell victim to a massive stroke that would alter her life from that point on. She lost basically all of her ability to speak. However, please note, that has not deterred her from "talking" as she has always been quite the chatter-box. But as my own future bride has learned, the more you interact with Nuna, the more words you can make out and the easier it is to communicate. Some words are more clear than others - 3 in particular: "I love you."

So as we sat in their living room last week, Pop decided to walk down to the lake and catch some fresh air. Kari and I sat with Nuna and out of nowhere, I decided to ask a bold question. I said, "Nuna, would you give Kari and I some advice about marriage?" She lit up, and began. Kari and I sat, mouths closed. Or opened. I can't remember. But we listened. We hung on every phrase, each sound, picking up on a word or two here and there, watching her use her hands as she seemed to motion again and again, pointing at each of us individually and then clasping her hands as if to signify our unity.

And then, my grandmother did something incredible.

She held Kari's hand, closed her eyes and began to pray.

As tears began to roll down my cheeks I realized how bold and courageous that was. My grandmother was speaking to God. She was verbally addressing the creator and sustainer of life. Nuna was talking to her best friend. She was praying over Kari and I and our relationship. Out loud.

Again, we could pick up on a few phrases, but that wasn't the point. We don't pray for others to hear us, we pray to an audience of One. And in that moment, God knew exactly what she was saying. He knew every word. It was loud and clear.

So maybe the "advice" that I received last Saturday wasn't found by my attempt to piece together a few words containing wisdom on relationships and love, rather, the true lesson was a visible and very audible reminder that God calls us to call on Him. No matter what.

Even when no one can understand us or our situation or even our very words, He does.

And He listens.

[cross]roads

Dear Kentucky,

I want to take a moment and attempt to express my immense gratitude that I have for you.

I met Kari Anne Humkey almost eight years ago at a Christ in Youth summer conference. We both attended conference for one reason; one simple reason: we wanted to grow closer to Jesus Christ. We had no clue of the seemingly innocent friendship that was sparked that summer. I had traveled with my best buddies and our youth group North from Covington, GA and she ventured South with a group from Lexington, KY. Milligan College was our destination; 4 1/2 hours from each of our respective home towns. Eight years ago from this coming June, our paths crossed at a central location. Our paths crossed with God at the center. We met in the middle.

And so has been the story of our lives - meeting in the middle. Giving and taking. Calling and answering. Writing and reading. Supporting and surrendering. Talking and listening. Laughing and crying.

We haven't gone longer than a few weeks without communication. Ever.

Kari has practically been apart of a third of my life. We have grown and changed and developed and learned. But one thing has remained the same: our passion to know Jesus better.

We have questioned, we have argued and we have hurt. But we have each other.

And we will always have each other.

On May 30, 2010, Kari and I are getting married. God has opened door after door for us and we couldn't be happier or more blessed.

We're often asked the question, "How did this all begin?" And the simplest explanation is that it began when God decided to rock our worlds and spark a friendship rooted in, around and through Him. He was in the middle.

So as we anticipate living out His plan, I'm reminded that He is still in the middle - and we must each put forth that effort to meet there. The best part of Kentucky has moved to Georgia, but the personal journey that both of us have to continually and consciously take to meet in the middle is just as vital as conquering the 400 miles between our hometowns.

Kari has a prayer that goes like this: "God show me your glory and my place in your story."

God has revealed blessing after blessing to me and I am beyond excited to see what He has in store. He deserves all of the credit and glory for bringing such a beautiful girl with a beautiful heart into my life. We are enjoying every moment of the story. Good or bad, up or down, He is at the center.

So I thank Kentucky and the lesson that was forced for us to learn from the distance between us. I always say, and even told her father the night I asked his blessing to marry his daughter, "If it weren't for the distance, I would have probably messed it all up." God used a method that allowed me to get to know my future wife from the inside-out. Meaning, I got to know her heart first. Her passions, desires and inspirations, followed by her feelings and emotions. As we got older, more and more mysteries about this girl were unveiled, everything from her talents to hobbies to friendships to career aspirations and finally her family. God certainly knew what He was doing when He wrote our story.

And for that, I am truly grateful.

And really, really stoked!

calloused dreamer

"Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth."

I spent a great deal of my childhood hearing my mother say those words. We lived right across the street from Academy Springs Park in Covington where my brothers and I spent countless hours gliding through the air in those chained rocketships; those linked-vehicles only letting you go "this high" and "this far" as if we were some sort of domestic pet in the suburbs. I used to love swinging. I enjoyed the thrust of hands pushing my lower back, refueling whatever I chose to be driving that day, and sending me up into the sky in a gravity-defying-kind-of-way.

I used to love swinging.

But not now.

I got on a swing last July for the first time since 1996. When I was 8 years old, I broke both of my arms while jumping out of a swing. It is one of the most vivid, terrifying moments of my childhood. And it saddens me - not because I was injured, but because I lost an avenue of innocent innovation. Even the calloused retelling of my story feels "older." I adapted the "jumping out of a swing" version over the years. And of course, that's essentially what I was doing. On the surface, anyways.

But what could I have really been doing before I plummeted back to the ground? Back to reality? Back to pain and hurt and throbbing. Was I travelling through a galactic universe at warp speeds? Maybe bungee jumping from atop the Grand Canyon? Was I flying a life-sized jet similar to the model air plane my dad gave me for my birthday that year?

"Back and forth. Back and forth."

Now I'm 21 years old - 5 months from graduating college, marrying one of God's most precious creations, and beginning full-time ministry. I am on the cusp of moving forward. And I'm looking back. Not wishing to relive moments in the past, but trying to learn from them. Why "Back and forth?" Why "back" first? Perhaps I need to take time and reminisce the back-end of my timeline with a purposeful goal to not repeat the same mistakes before I cut through the next chapter of my life at mach-1 speeds. I want to find that avenue again. I want to tackle obstacles with reckless-abandon and a fearless approach. I want to be a sail-hoister and a door holder.

"Back and forth."

Do I regret jumping out of that swing?

Do I regret the twists and turns in my life that have led me to this point?

I do not regret jumping.

I do not regret the road I've taken.

I only wish I would have gotten back on the swing and continued dreaming.