Reflections

 It's been so long since I sat myself down to write something that I almost don't know where to begin.  I imagine most people forgot I even had a "blog" (is it even considered a blog anymore if you haven't written in it for years?).  There have been moments throughout the past few years that I thought to myself that I should sit down and pen those thoughts to paper, so to speak, but have either lacked the discipline, motivation, or thought that some things were better left unsaid.  So here I find myself, not knowing for sure what has made this moment any different than before. 

I read over my last blog post, in which I discussed our big move to Montana, and all the emotions that went with that transition.  Now, here I am again, months after another move, this time to Wyoming, having experienced many of the same emotions, only now coupled with this year being, well, it being 2020 (you guys feel me).  

This morning I have spent time working on my calendar.  Every year I create a calendar on Shutterfly with all our favorite photos from the year before.  I will hang it in my kitchen and use it almost as a journal, recording important, and not so important, moments that happen.  I always get nostalgic when I am looking through all the photos I have taken but this year I felt something akin to sadness.  Why?

Just a couple weeks ago I was having a conversation about this year with someone.  She made a comment that was something like,"I haven't done a thing this year!"  Of course we did acknowledge the big election which was...something. And, of course, I understand what she was saying, many people didn't have a lot of activity happen.  Most of us dutifully stayed at home, we quarantined, we refrained from travel.  However, that doesn't mean things didn't happen to you.

As I looked over my year in picture form, starting with January, I noticed many things.  I had literally no pictures for the month of January.  For one short moment I questioned this.  How can I have no pictures? Me? Then it hit,  I was in mourning.  I don't know that I could tell you anything that happened that month.  I remember going to therapy once a week, and that's about it.  February was better, we took the kids skiing and being in the outdoors, even in the snowy cold, did (and still does) wonders for my soul.  Spring came and with it so did COVID and the shutdown.  We tried our best to make the best of this new reality we were living.  We powered through at-home learning, played outside when weather permitted, did our best to celebrate three birthdays in the most meaningful ways we could, and spent a lot of time as a family.  Man, it was hard.  In the midst of all that, we also learned we were moving.

Moving was NOT on our radar.  It was scary, and sad, and frustrating, and exciting all at the same time.  We had to buy a house!  We had to buy a house a state away in the middle of a pandemic!  We had to say our goodbyes, pack, and try to get in as much of Montana as we could, in the midst of a pandemic.  I wouldn't recommend it.  Once more, as with every move we have made, we had to face the hurt and pain of being immediately "removed" from peoples lives.  We had people immediately unfriend us on facebook, others just ignored us if we say them in public.  Others were much more upfront, and told us how angry they were, and still others, said they were angry but understood.  Even now, months later, I mourn those relationships.  It's never easy to move.  All of our moves have been difficult, but as I looked at the pictures, capturing our last moments in Montana, I grieve all over again.  Zach and I both have found that we call Montana "home."  I also grieve what we had, the memories we made, the adventures we went on.  It's another byproduct of this year, our adventures have all but screeched to a halt.  Those activities we did, the places we visited during our time in Montana were meaningful for a number of reasons.  They helped us heal from a bad situation in New Mexico.  They helped distract us from not being able to help out with our families in Texas.  They gave us moments of clarity and cleansing when the world became too much to bear.

Now, I don't want you to think the move was all bad.  It hasn't been.  Wyoming has its own beauty and we have lots of plans to get out and adventure more when the world calms down.  The church here has been very welcoming, even with all that is working against us.  The kids love their schools and have found ways to get involved and fit in.  We love our new home and the fact that it is ours. We have found joy here in many ways.  

But still, sadness hits today.  I know I'm not alone in mourning what once was.  I think it's okay to have those emotions, especially this year.  I am grateful for each of you, for allowing me to process through those feelings.  So often we force ourselves to push through, without proper reflection and commiserating. Im a big believer in feeling your emotions and then choosing not to dwell in the bad ones.  This year has been harder in practice, I've lost my mother, I've lost my home, I've lost relationships, but I know I am not alone.  This year has be wrought with divisions, arguments, political strife, death, illness, anger and so much more.  I hope that for many of us will come to realize that if nothing else, we are not alone in our many emotions. 

Now, I will pack up that sadness and lay it down.  I'm going to find joy and excitement in what is to come for us.  I will find hope in the unknown and peace in the knowing that we are never, ever alone.

Thanks for reading.

Greetings from Big Sky Country

It's been a long while since I last wrote and it's been almost as long since we moved across country to our new home in Montana.  So much about our lives have changed in such a short amount of time, that the abruptness of our new life has stunned me into a writer's block. 

I've been struck at how quickly life can change.  It's never easy.  Thankfully, this new path we are on, we feel 100% called to, called to Montana, called to this place, called to this new ministry.  That belief has made things easier. 

We love this new home.  It's different here, and not in a bad way.  So much of what I have longed for can be found in this small, charming town.  I finally feel like my kids are able to enjoy aspects of my childhood that I thought they'd forever miss out on.  The kids have settled in nicely, enjoying school, making friends, getting involved in activities.   It feels...settled.

It hasn't been completely easy.  We are a long way off from anything that used to be familiar.  There was a time that I would expect to see someone I knew when I went to a local store, only to be reminded that I didn't know anyone for thousands of miles.  That's a very lonely feeling.  There were many days where I lingered at our new house, unpacking boxes, settling our belongings, and would be overcome with homesickness.  If only I could have gone "home" for a weekend, I thought, just a couple of days with loved ones...

It's been six months since our rushed move north.  We have experienced so much.  We saw two new states that none of us had seen before.  We drove into a new town, up to a new house, that we had only seen in a few pictures.  We experienced the loneliness of not seeing family for many months.  We have seen scenes from this country that take your breath away with it's grandness and beauty, experiencing nature in a new and amazing way.  We have lived through the worst winter (and still not over we hear) that we have ever imagined.  We have made many new relationships, been embraced by three church congregations in three different towns.  We have also lost friends we thought we had, people from previous churches who refused to even say goodbye to us before we left town.  We have experienced the heart ache of being misunderstood.  We have seen the confusion in our children's eyes as they struggled to understand why there were being discarded.

It's never easy. 

Being in this profession, and living this life, we expect challenges.  We know change will be coming around the bend.  We know, never to get too comfortable.  We also know that this is a life with great reward.

For know we can say, we are home.  We are where we belong.  We know this part of our path is true, and good, and exactly where we are supposed to be.  We know who loves us, and we know Him who loves us most.  It may never be easy, but it is definitely worth it. 

We are living our adventure. 

You do You

I have a confession to make.  I am addicted to podcasts.  Guys, it's serious.  I don't know why I waited so long, but I fell for them and fell hard. I don't watch tv hardly at all anymore and my time on social media sites have decreased considerably. I listen to a variety of podcasts, mostly true crime (don't judge), and a few comedy.  One I really enjoy and put on when I need a laugh is called the Dollop.  It's an American History podcast that takes a story or a person from history, both distant and not too distant, and breaks it down into a laughter filled hour or so.  I wouldn't recommend this podcast if you are thin skinned or if you can't handle listening to views that may not necessarily match up to your own or are sensitive to bad language.  I love it though and I've learned quite a bit.

One great thing about listening to podcasts is I can put in my earbuds, turn on an episode, and get things done.  I've found I'm much more productive.  Today was a day that I needed to both laugh and get stuff done so I turned on The Dollop and got busy.  Interestingly enough, one of the topics spoke to something that has been on my heart lately.

So the topic was a silly one, titled Straw Hat Riot (episode 129 for you Rubes), and basically it spoke about a time that people were so concerned that men not wear their straw hats passed a specified date, that they would literally take and destroy said hat if one was caught wearing it.  It became a real issue, people were arrested and injured because of a hat. One of the hosts of the podcasts (and I paraphrase because language) said, "Why do people care what other people are doing so much?"

That's what's been laying on my heart lately.  Why do people care what other people do so much?  Maybe I've mellowed with age, or maybe I've encountered enough people who are different than what I grew up with, or maybe it's life experiences, who knows, but honestly folks, I don't care very much what other people choose to do if it doesn't harm anyone.  For instance, how many posts have you seen regarding fashion and you just can't wrap your mind around why someone would choose to wear it?  Or, perhaps you can't stand a certain celebrity, and cant fathom why someone would look up to them.  How many times have you glanced at the comments of that cute puppy video you shared and saw commentors who somehow found something negative to say about it.  Even those recipe videos some of us love (guilty) will have comments along the lines of "Why would anyone eat this" or "wow, this cake is really ugly, who would want it?"

Whatever it is, so many people feel the need to take a stance on the silliest of issues, becoming keyboard warriors against anyone who would dare be different.  I'm here to tell you, I DON'T CARE!  I don't care what you wear, how much makeup you wear, how your hair is done, what shows, music, books you like.  I don't care if you prefer a certain type of vehicle or type of pet, if you can't stand a certain type of food or hobby.  I don't care if you are a Baptist or a Methodist, if you prefer one type of worship music over another.  I don't feel the need to turn everyone I meet into Mikel clones, who believe in the exact same way I do.  Let me enjoy the things I enjoy, and I'll be glad to return the favor.

Try as you might, you will not find anyone who agrees one hundred percent with you in any given topic, be it politics, religion, current events, how you raise your family, or how you live your life.  That's OK.  I've learned so much from people who think differently than me.  There is so much negativity in this world, why add to it?  Why bring misery to yourself and others over insignificant things?  Why, when there are so many real issues going on today that are much more deserving of our concern and attention?

Friends, there is so much darkness in our lives, in our world, why can't we all choose to stop finding issue with our neighbors, stop adding to the negativity, and instead bring much needed light and love into our lives and into the lives of those we encounter, even if it's just with strangers on the internet.  It's okay to have differing ideas about things.  It's okay to not like everything we see.  However, ask yourself, would this negative thought benefit anyone else?  Is it worth my time to comment about something I don't like or think is silly?  Are my negative comments online or in person the witness I want to give?

May your days be filled with goodness and may we all be the light in a world filled with darkness.

Life as we know it.

It's been a while since I've made the time to sit down and blog, but for good reason.  We have been in our new home for about 3 weeks now.  We are, for the most part, settled in and adjusting to this new place.  We get asked often how we are enjoying being here, and I can honestly say we love it!  The new church we are at has gone above and beyond to make us feel welcomed.  The entire first week we were here we had meals provided for us.  I didn't even go grocery shopping until the fourth day we were here!  Yes, life is pretty good here and I am very much looking forward to see what the future holds for us.

On a related note, let me tell you all what happened to me yesterday.  From the beginning:

As any mother can attest, Sunday's can be hard.  I can't, for the life of me, get all five of us in a routine that makes getting ready for church easier.  I try very hard to go the entire morning not raising my voice, but I just don't always make it.  Why do the kids move so slow?  Where do all the shoes disappear to on Sunday mornings?  Why does that cowlick pick Sundays to be the most stubborn and pronounced?  The struggle is real, folks.  Regardless, we did make it out the door and to church on time for the kids to go to Sunday school, with little to no permanent scarring.

For worship we enjoy having our kids sit with us.  We feel it helps to teach the kids that it's okay and necessary to learn to sit still and quietly.  Zach took part in the service so I sat with our kids alone.  At one point, Ryann hit her head on the pew and began crying.  I told the other two to stay there and I got up to take her out.  I am almost to the back of the sanctuary when I realize Noah has tagged along.  Somehow, within the 2.5 seconds I left them, his sister had found a way to seriously offend him.  Sigh.  When the closing song begins, Noah, Ryann and I make our way back to our seat.  Jeez, who was sitting here?  Animal crackers strewn about, colors on the floor, two bulletins seemed to have multiplied to countless pieces of paper.  Sigh, again.

With Zoe's help we get everything picked up and gathered.  I grab my purse, Ryanns diaper bag, the church bag, and the baby, and head out to the new Prayer Garden where we were having a blessing and dedication along with taking communion.  Again, Zach is participating in this service so I stand there, in the sun, with my arms full of the above mentioned items.  The baby is hot, tired, hungry (despite the number of animal crackers she partially consumed during church) and is squirming to be put down.  Noah keeps wanting to stand with his Daddy in the front.  Zoe is bored and restless.  Double sigh.

Then, do you know what happened?  This sweet older woman, whom I'm sure I've met but can't remember her face in the sea of faces I've encountered these past few weeks, witnessed my plight from across the garden and made her way to me.  "Can I please help you by holding your purse and bags for you?"  I'm not sure what she thought of my expression, but I felt overwhelmed with relief and gratefulness. "YES!" I practically shouted it.  "Thank you soooo much."  She held my belongings, literally taking a burden from my shoulders, allowing me to enjoy the moment a bit more, to take communion without struggling.

One small, little gesture.  It meant so much to me.

Being part of the church for most of my life, I have heard it countless times: "How can we get young families in the church? How do we reach the millennials?"

Here's my answer:  I couldn't care less about the type of music you play, the clothing your congregants wear, the type of seating, if the pastor robes up or not.  I have enough struggles and worries to let those types of things bother me.  I want to be a part of a place that shows me and others the Love of Christ.  If you want to get young, busy, stressed out families in your church, then love them.  Easy as that.  If you see a young mother struggling with her kids, offer to help. Say something encouraging.  Love her.  If you know a single mother who worries about her car making it to work, to school, to the babysitters, then fix it for her.  Take away that burden.  Replace it with love.

I've been accused in the past of looking unapproachable.  It angers and saddens me when I've heard these comments, always from people I've gone to church with, because I want to ask them, when you see me looking like that, is Zach there? Do I have kids hanging off me?  Have you given any thought to what may have happened in our home, just to get us there?  I'm counting it a victory to just be here sometimes, I'm sorry if I don't appear happy and carefree all the time.

So, moral of the story and of this rant, be aware of what other people may be going through.  Offer to help, even if it's a small, little gesture.  Even a word of encouragement or understanding can go a long way to show other's what LOVE means.

Almost Home

In one week from today we will be gone from New Boston.  I have to say I am ready.  I much dislike living in limbo.  I need to put my roots down for me and my children.  Zach and I are very optimistic for this move and this new start of ours.

Everywhere we have gone lately people ask us how the packing is going.  Um...it's going...  :)  It's so much easier not having the kids here.  Their rooms are completely packed and their furniture disassembled ready to load on the truck when we get it next week.  I have a bad back so I'm glad that I don't have to pick up Noah on top of the stress of packing.

Zach had his last Wednesday night meeting with his youth kids last night. They played spoons and everyone enjoyed some nifty gifties of my own making...basically random gift bags filled with crap we were going to throw away and thought might be amusing to give to some unsuspecting kids.

I probably wont blog again until we set up shop in New Mexico so until then, "Happy Trails!"

This is the stuff...

This is a song by Francesca Battestelli (sp) that has been running laps in my head for the past several day. If you haven't heard it I recommend you youtube it, it's wonderful and wraps up most of our lives in a nice little song.

Zach, Zoe and I have been working most of the day in the heat of summer in the garage preparing for a garage sale tomorrow...or rather Zach and I have been working and Zoe has been running around picking things up and asking about a million questions, give or take a few. Who's idea was it to move to another state again?? Our plan is to get rid of enough stuff that everything will fit onto the moving truck and our vehicles and not have to rent another trailer. We shall see...

I woke up this morning with a goal to go the entire day without raising my voice at one or both of my children (although to be honest, Noah rarely incurs my wrath). So far so good though it has been a challenge at moments. Four year olds - can't live with them, and nobody else wants them...

So, that's today in a nutshell, or rather a nut house, as it seems at the moment...anyone want to come over and help me build a fort out of my boxes??