Being engaged to Nick Visconti means I am entering a world I previously knew pretty much nothing about: the glamorous (and not-so-glamorous) world of professional snowboarding. As I’ve more recently learned to strap on a board myself and wield a shovel here and there, I have been privileged to observe a cultural niche that is simultaneously fascinating, foreign, fun as all hell, and at times rather vulgar.

Some of you may know my story with my now fiancé. I have known Nick for three years in a first platonic, then romantic entanglement. Prior to dating him, I wasn’t really interested in snowboarding. Nick pursued me and we went on dates for years, but I was too intimidated to actually move forward with this person who appeared to be so different from me. When Nick and I both relocated to Seattle last year independently from one another, I saw it as a nod from God that I could indeed give things a chance with this man who wore hoop earrings and described everything as either ‘epic’ or ‘bitchin’… even though he lived and breathed a world I was completely alien to. Well, fast-forward a yearish, and I am the happiest I’ve ever been. I simply can’t wait to marry my best friend.

If you know Nick, you know how much his life doesn’t actually revolve around snowboarding – there is so much more depth behind that mischievous smile and sparkling eyes than what he does to pay the bills. My college-educated fiancé enjoys music, world culture, and undoubtedly more than anything, people. He proposed to me before he ever taught me to snowboard (I don’t know about you, but to me that speaks volumes). All that being said, in a short amount of time I have indeed been exposed to the ins and outs of snowboarding, and I’ve learned it’s a hell of a lot more than Shaun White winning the Half Pipe.

This is the world of snowboarding from my perspective… the perspective of one more akin to a – dare I use this word? – hipster lifestyle of art, Instagram, coffee shops, and other activities that usually don’t involve jumping off cliffs.

A sport that is pretty new in and of itself, snowboarding evolved as a youth-fueled response to the more bourgeois skiing. Coasting down a mountain with both feet strapped to one board instead of two closely paralleled skateboard culture and the street art movement of the 90’s. Eventually snowboarding seeped off the slopes and evolved to urban environments, where mothers gritted their teeth and watched their kids attempt tricks on railings, stairs, sides of buildings – the gnarlier the better. One of the most well known urban riders in snowboarding happens to be the man I’m engaged to. Even novices like me can quickly pick up on how unique Nick’s riding style is, mirroring his own eccentric one-of-a-kind yet lovable personality. He truly is a joy to watch. Nick is an X Games medalist, has traveled all over the world many times over, and is the only snowboarder to have ever landed the Christ Air (google it).

A day in the life of Nick looks something like this: Wake up. Check the weather. Brew coffee. Answer emails and return phone calls. Eat fruit and maybe eggs for breaky. Talk about daily fiber intake. Check the weather again. Make some more phone calls. Meet up with a film crew. Drive around spot-checking, which simply means looking for places to film a trick. Find a spot. Check the snow conditions. Talk about the snow conditions. Mention how the Eskimos have almost 100 different words for ‘snow’ in their vernacular. Start shoveling the snow. Discuss camera angles and settings. Finally begin snowboarding. Shovel some more. After the trick is finally captured, discuss if it’s good enough. Probably film it a dozen more times. Check the weather. Eat a burrito slathered in Tapatio for lunch. Drive around spot-checking again. Find another spot. Discuss trick ideas. Shovel for a half hour, then decide the snow conditions are not ideal. Call it a day. Hit up the local skate park for an hour. Probably have more Mexican food for dinner with a margarita or five. Check the weather for the next day. End the evening in a hot tub.

‘Tranny’ doesn’t mean transvestite. Phrases like ‘dropping’ and ‘sending it’ are used in day-to-day vernacular. The word ‘stoked’ is, well, used to a fault. Ski resorts are their own world and have a culture completely unique to them: women in fur drinking with their ski boots still on. An après beverage is very much a part of snow culture. Snowboarders are in bars just as often as they are on mountaintops. Speaking of mountains, if Nick and I are on a road trip and pass Mt. Shasta or something, he can’t take his eyes off of it. He’ll know the exact elevation and talk about memories associated with that particular mountain and how much his heart lusts for nature. Meanwhile, I nervously eye the road from the passenger seat for fear that he will get too distracted while driving. Nick’s thirst for the outdoors is one of the things I love most about him.

While recently spending a week in Philadelphia to work on an art project, one of the girls on my team caught herself saying ‘rad’ a lot and told me, “I don’t normally say this but you’re starting to rub off on me!” I told her to blame my fiancé. Perhaps Nick is rubbing off on me more than I know. Now if you’ll excuse me, we have a full day of shredding ahead of us.

My entire life I have been that girl who has dreamed of getting married.

While I understand there is not necessarily anything inherently wrong with desiring marriage and companionship and wedding registries, in my heart of hearts I took it way too far for many years. I completely idolized marriage. More times than I’d like to admit I have imagined the moment I walk down the aisle, hundreds of eyes on me, as I gracefully float to my soon-to-be husband, looking perfect. I thought that moment meant my life was complete. I know I’m not alone — I’m not the only single girl with wedding Pinterest boards.

Will you allow me to be vulnerable with you? I have been in and out of relationships faster than you can say Taylor Swift. Ask any of my friends, and they will immediately nod up and down and acknowledge with a sigh of frustration, “I tried to tell her to be single!” It’s true. I never listened. And looking back on years and years of broken hearts, all I see is pain and brokenness. Sure, I learned from a lot of mistakes I made. But if I could go back in time I would tell myself there is absolutely nothing wrong with choosing to be single for awhile. I entered relationships because there never really seemed a good enough reason not to — they completed me and gave me a sense of identity. I was secretly obsessed with finding a husband, and had myself convinced time and time again that I had found the right person, just because he loved me and told me I was beautiful. That’s all I needed, right? When one relationship didn’t work out I would numb the pain by jumping into a different one, causing untold damage to my heart and mind.

I am almost 26 years old and am now engaged to a man named Nick Visconti.

Nick and I met almost three years ago. He has never stopped pursuing me since the moment he met me — at the time I was dating another would-be husband. I was not interested in Nick, a professional snowboarder whom I didn’t think I shared much in common with other than a fiery faith for Jesus. He didn’t care. He knew, literally from the first night we meant, that God had written my name on his heart and that no one else was right for him. Less than a year ago, only when both Nick and I were planning on moving to Seattle completely independently of one another did I finally agree to date him. Rather reluctantly. I had been single for six months, and was finally beginning to heal and trust God with my future. I had endured a lot of broken hearts at this point. I was sick of the fighting, sick of the breakups, sick of changing my Facebook relationship status. I wanted the real thing. I didn’t know if Nick was it, but for the first time, I was entering the relationship based on faith that God was bringing us together in Seattle rather than trying to fulfill a need in my heart.

I fell in love with him immediately. He had been loving me from afar for years. Things felt organic — not perfect, but right.

Five months after I moved to Seattle, Nick proposed a few days before Christmas at Donner Lake. Snowflakes fell softly from the sky while the sun shone brightly on us as if God was nodding in approval. We were completely alone. And I said yes. I didn’t cry. I didn’t jump up and down. I quietly said yes, a giant smile on my face, and looking at the gorgeous rock adorning my finger, silently thanked God for this blessing that I hadn’t expected in the form of Nick Visconti. I had never felt more confident in a decision before. Instead of forcing an outcome because of how badly my heart longed for it, I gave God a few months to work out the innermost kinks and motivations for finding a husband. Once I had begun to heal, He unexpectedly gave me Nick… the most creative, eccentric, hard-working, talented, wise, funny, and relational man I’ve ever met.

What I am not saying is this: God will give you a spouse as soon as you’re single for a couple months. What I am saying is this: oftentimes when we are willing to yield our deepest and dearest desires over to Him, only after we are totally stripped does He give us what is best for us. And it almost always looks different than we think.

I laugh as I type this. I had absolutely no idea a year ago that I’d be marrying Nick Visconti — sometimes the thought still surprises me! One year ago I had chopped all my hair off as a way to free myself from my past (I’ve always wanted long hair for my wedding day). I just got a weave yesterday — which is super weird, by the way. I don’t have my life together like I thought I would when I someday became a wife. I still struggle with time management. I am more out of shape than I ever have been. My career is still being built and cultivated. I am on the brink, sure. But aren’t we always in seasons of transition? Aren’t we always reaching onward and upward? Nick asked me to marry him for exactly who I am, not for who I am striving to be. I am learning to succumb this idea of being a perfect bride to God’s perfect idea for me, His precious daughter and the crown of His creation. And not only that, but the big glorious wedding? I care less about that now than I ever did before I was engaged. I am marrying my soulmate. That is all that matters now.

And I am running in freedom.

“How would you like to come to Philly in two days and be a part of the Justice Conference?”

A pause. He waited expectantly.

Caught off guard, I repositioned my iPhone to my other ear and prayed for about two seconds before exclaiming, “YES.” 48 hours later I found myself boarding a plane bound for the land of cheesesteak and liberty. I hadn’t been to the east coast for about a decade and tried to prepare myself for a spontaneous adventure with a crew I had never met, working on a project I knew virtually nothing about. I was admittedly a little nervous. I had no idea what to expect.

One week later, and I am still reeling at the proof that once again, God always has things figured out. At last week’s Justice Conference in Philadelphia, I helped a team of about 20 people create a gigantic interactive mural measuring 24′ x 30′. The name of the project? Justice Does (search #justicedoes on various social media outlets if you feel so inclined to see how everything unfolded). Because a member of the team had dropped out at the last minute, I was asked to tag along, all expenses paid, by Shawn Manley of Rooftop 519. Although Shawn and I had never met in person before, we had exchanged a few emails and he knew a little bit of my story and taking a leap of faith, invited me into a whirlwind of art and justice for a week. For Justice Does, Rooftop had partnered with Portland-based Artists Inspiring Action to create a project where thousands of conference attenders participated in a magnificent piece of art… symbolically pointing to what is so central to the core of all of us: we are all part of something much, much bigger than we could possibly fathom. As Christ worshippers, pursuing justice is our calling to respond to the cries of this world. As my new friend Ryan Frederick says in this blog post highlighting his experience at the conference, justice is tied very closely to living a life for Jesus; it is the byproduct.

So where did I fit in with all of this? As I left Seattle, I wasn’t exactly sure. All I knew was that sometimes God calls us so obviously towards something that we have no other choice but to follow it and thus, to follow our King. Even though, in this case, it meant abandoning my brand-new fiancé on his birthday (sorry about that babe). As my time in Philadelphia passed, I realized how much I fit in with this delightful crew made up of creatives like myself hailing from all over the country. People that were not only passionate in their faith but doing something about it. I believe there comes a point in every Christian’s spiritual journey where following Jesus is so much more than trusting Him with our salvation, and even more than having a day-to-day relationship with Him. Loving Jesus means loving His people. Fighting for them. Pursuing them. Forgiving them. And in this case, showing them that each and every one of them are created in His image… and thus are all artists in their own right.

Yes, you read that right. I believe that you are an artist.

I left Philadelphia motivated and inspired, not just because we created a rad and unique piece of art. But because working alongside these new friends of mine, allowing their stories to touch me and mine to touch them, reminded me to embrace humankind as the most beautiful artwork of all. We all are, you are, an utter masterpiece.

Still getting used to the phrase published author. So incredibly grateful for the opportunity to share my story with the world and allow God to work through my brokenness and impending blindness. I have received a flood of encouraging emails and messages from friends and strangers alike who have purchased my book, and I want to extend a giant THANK YOU to those of you who have taken the time to read Believing is Seeing. It is kind of an adrenaline rush to have my story published for the world to see: simultaneously scary and a sigh of relief. If you want to reach me personally to share your thoughts about the book, I am always available via email at artbylauralawson@gmail.com. I would love to hear from you.

For those of you who have read it, would you consider taking a few minutes to leave a review on Amazon and/or Goodreads. Eye would so appreciate it.

In closing, Nick and I were playing around with an Olloclip yesterday and he took some rad macro shots of my eyeball. Ladies and gents, my eye in b&w:

After months of sweat, tears and espresso, I am thrilled to announce that my very first book Believing is Seeing is officially published through SlimBooks! You can purchase it digitally for $5 through the SlimBooks website here or on Amazon for your Kindle here. Print copies will be made available in a few months.

From the publisher: In Believing is Seeing, Laura tells her story – one of loss, of heartbreak, of hope, and of a new vision. In her debut SlimBook, Laura takes you inside the mind and heart of an idealistic young creative who, with the world at her feet, gets the news that she is losing her sight. Her writing draws you in, and her story will keep you turning the pages. A great read for anyone who has ever dealt with loss, for anyone who values creativity and the creative process, and for the idealist in all of us.

Seriously y’all, I am so proud to add PUBLISHED AUTHOR to my resume. God is healing and redeeming my story. Read this interview my good friend Ashlee from Where My Heart Resides posted of me this morning to hear more.

I’d love to get your feedback after you’re done with the book. Happy reading!!!