Don't Look Back!

A little less than a year ago I decided to leave everything I had known for most of my adult life and move east, toward adventure, sunrise, and family.

It was a bold decision.
It was exciting.
It was a leap of faith.
It was really hard to tell my friends.

"Hi guys. I really love you. I love the way you include me in your family events. I love cheering for your kids. I love parties in your backyard. I love that you will come cook with me in the middle of the night when I'm restless. I love the way you get me. By the way... I'm leaving it all to start a new life by myself where I know no one."

Yea.
I'm a big people person. I have a lot of friends. So... had some variation on that conversation about a dozen times last June. Most times, it ended with the reassurance that if things didn't work out, I'd always be welcome back.

One friend's words really stood out. One friend refused to go that road.
He said, in essence, that I had to burn the ships. I was an explorer going to a new world, and I couldn't be looking back over my shoulder, second guessing myself all the time. I had to keep my eyes forward, looking to the horizon. If I was going to go through with this (and his wife really hoped I wouldn't), then I had to commit, fully.

I knew he was right.

In October, when I had to give up my "leave" at my old job, because it was unethical to keep that spot "open" when I had another job, I resolutely put my eyes forward, and submitted my resignation. That "leave" had been my safety net. Cutting it loose was tough.


In November & December, when I was homesick for the traditions of the life I'd known, I remembered his advice, and quit looking back. I went out searching for new traditions. I wrote about it on a post called "Home for the Holidays." I didn't find any new traditions yet, but I did have some fun.

In January, when I broke my foot, and had to beg for help with everything, I knew it would have been easier had it happened in a place where I was surrounded by long-time friends. Still, that wasn't God's timing. I've dealt with the challenges, and learned a lot about my "new world" and myself in the process.

I've grown, and realized that even with the hurdles and homesickness, I am glad I moved.

Sometime, in the last few months, I crossed a line. I don't catch myself "examining" life anymore, checking out another way, comparing it to what I knew, and weighing it out as if I have an option to rent or to buy.  Sometime in the last few months, it's settled in my heart that for now, for this season, this *is* my life. I bought in.

I like what I've learned about myself and another part of our little world.


I miss my friends, and am thankful for the modern technology that keeps me connected, and lets me share my adventures with them and share their lives even now.  My heart will always call Tacoma home. It is a beautiful, wonderful place. I will gladly take advantage of any opportunity to visit.

Maybe some day - a few more years into the future -  I might choose to move back. Not because things didn't work out. No. If I move back, it will be because I have realized that I'm ready to settle down, and there's truly no place on Earth I'd rather be.

For now, though, as I enter the last quarter of my first year in my new life, I know that I'm not done with my adventures yet. I don't know what the next year will look like (though I desperately hope crutches & casts aren't involved). I do know there's a lot to see and do yet.

I'm looking forward to it.

I know this is where I usually insert a verse... I don't really have one this week. The closest I've found was Phil.3:13, but I don't really want to "forget" what was behind, even though I am pushing toward what lies ahead. To be honest, it's an old Stephen Curtis Chapman song "Burn the Ships" that's been running through my mind. It's 1990's retro, but I've always liked it. Here's a youtube link if you don't know it.

Do you, dear friend, have a verse I should meditate on that supports this topic? Maybe through your eyes...?

A Prayer, and an Answer (Gen 2:18)

I clearly remember a spring day in my young adulthood, when I was standing at the clothesline behind my lovely brick apartment home, hanging out my laundry and praying God would send me just one good Christian friend. Most of my faith journey, to that point, had been just me and God. I read my Bible daily. I went to church regularly. I had a healthy prayer life. But I had no Christian friends. There was not one believer in my life with whom I felt close enough to pray, study, learn or celebrate. There was, at that time, no one close to me who didn't think I was at least a little bit crazy for putting so much hope and trust in ancient "legends."

Now, I am blessed to be positively surrounded by people of faith. Some of my old friends have become true brothers and sisters in Christ. I've met many more on the journey. I'm blessed by their encouragement and I rely on their prayers. Our conversations are richly seasoned with things not of this world. I'm pretty sure they don't think I'm crazy (or at least not ALL crazy).

Women of faith...together...the first Easter
discovering the empty tomb.

Since most of my readers are also these friends, it would be silly (and somewhat insulting) for me to try to write here about the incredible-ness of Easter. We rejoice today, together. Our joy has been more eloquently expressed in a hundreds of songs. The lessons of faith and redemption taught in dozens of sermons. My awe has been captured by authors far more talented than I, and shared in hundreds of books.

This morning, when I rose to get ready for church, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for the community of believers who have become such an important part of my life. Easter - the resurrection of our Lord and Savior -  is the most important thing we have in common. In some cases the only thing. That's okay. It is more than enough.

I still pray for those in my life who do not know the Lord. How dark must this world seem without the hope of Easter, of life, of renewal, of a Kingdom beyond this world. These dear ones do not understand why we celebrate today with more than bunnies, eggs, and jelly-beans. So I pray that God will open their eyes, that Jesus will speak to their hearts, that the Spirit of truth will draw them near.

I pray, and I celebrate.
Because I know that prayers are answered. You, my friends, are proof of that.
Will you share your own story of answered prayer?

The Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone." - Genesis 2:18

Memory Lane (Prov. 3:3)

When was the last time you wandered down memory lane?
Who did you take with you? What did you talk about?

I got to wander down memory lane with a rarely-seen aunt this weekend. It was interesting, to hear my own memories retold from her perspective. 

I realized, in the sharing, the importance of one's point of view when it comes to personal history. Generally, when I'm wandering through the past, it's with a new friend, a beau, a stranger - someone I have to "fill in" on the events that made me, well, me.  I can't remember the last time I had a chat with someone (other than my darling sister) who was really there. Someone who might remember things a little differently. After all, even undisputed facts can have different facets - like a gemstone in the sun.

For example... I took 5 years off between earning my AA at a community college and finishing my BA at university. In that time I moved to a different state, and saved enough to avoid student loans for a while. While I was, certainly, enjoying the freedom of my early 20's, I always knew I'd go back to college sooner rather than later. I had decided to be a teacher before I was even in high school. She didn't realize any of that. She thought I had dropped out, and then reconsidered and discovered an interest in education. She praised me for getting my life back on track; for becoming responsible. I think she was genuinely surprised when I sorted it out for her. I'm not sure what she thinks of my story now that she realizes I've always been old and dull. It's interesting to consider, though.

Now, I'm becoming fascinated with my own history, and the idea of hearing how the other people in my life would describe the events that shaped our relationships. I love stories. I can't wait to hear the ones my family have to share with me.

I was reading about the Israelite's journey to Jericho recently. So many times Moses warned them to remember their past. To talk to the children. To make monuments, leave reminders, honor traditions, lest God's people forget where they came from. I don't know about your world, but mine is very disconnected from that kind of thinking.

I don't know my history - at least not any farther back than I can remember. But I want to learn. So I'll invite my family to wander down memory lane with me, while there's still time. 

Never let go of loyalty and faithfulness. Tie them around your neck; write them on your heart. -Proverbs 3:3

Courtesy? (Prov. 12:25)

I generally don't post when I'm "in a mood." However, this week I'm making an exception.

This post is regarding my broken leg. I won't be offended if you click off. I know it's a tedious subject. I'm bored of it myself. Deep into my 10th week of healing (75 days), and I'm still not putting weight on it or able to sleep without the boot. I haven't started PT yet. I still have no idea how much longer it will be before I can drive. In fact, I'm not sure in which of the end-of-year events on our  long-term calendar I'll actually be able to participate, come June. 

I was supposed to see the doctor today about my foot. Based on my past experience, I wasn't expecting answers to all of my questions. I was hoping for answers to some.

What I got was a rather powerful lesson in courtesy.

Sometime around noon today the doc's office called to let me know they were "rescheduling" my appointment. No reason given. So I begged someone to watch my class while I called to find out what was going on. Apparently the doc decided not to have evening hours any more. And by evening I mean anything after 4. Now, I don't mean to whine, but one of the reasons I chose this office was because they had later hours. 

Setting that aside, though, today's incident was bad business, plain and simple. He did not wake up sick this morning and have to call in. He made a plan to change his practice. Whether he put that plan in motion this morning or last month, surely someone could have noticed existing appointments and rescheduled them in a more timely fashion. After all, some of those appointments were made by people who cannot drive themselves. 

I called the clinic to express my frustration. I got the switchboard at the main office. They noted my frustration, but made no apology. I had to insist (and I hate insisting) on an appointment after 4 - with anyone at all. They "supposed" they could get me in at 4:10 tomorrow. I have rarely felt so ... ignored.

After begging no less than a dozen wonderful people who all had very legitimate previous engagements, I finally managed to find a ride. Then I re-arranged a parent-meeting I had set for tomorrow. And got permission from my boss to leave a few minutes early to make the early time. So... tomorrow. 

Tomorrow, I'll see a doctor who's going to be less-than-happy to see me after-hours to (hopefully) get at least some of my questions answered. I'll smile at an office staff who clearly can't manage their own calendars. I'll pay for service that I have to accept because I can't (realistically) transfer anywhere else at this point. I'll schedule my next appointment with my fingers crossed.

Obviously I left work in a less than lovely mood.

Thanks to the coworker who was driving today, I was able to stop at the grocery store on the way home. While she was parking the car, the courtesy clerk came, took my crutches, and hooked me up with one of those beepy-wheely-carts (my first time with one). The clerk was friendly - laughing and helping me get situated. He even offered to have someone go around with me to reach the high shelves. 

When my driver joined me, she did the reaching for me. She insisted on searching for the wine I liked. She didn't mind when we had to schooch back to the entrance side of the store because I forgot an ingredient I needed for the one dish I'm actually cooking this week. She didn't judge when I also grabbed a frozen pizza and a mini-cheesecake. It was no big deal to her to help me out. 

And I felt much better when I left, still laughing about the wine & cheesecake. The courtesy clerk and my wonderful co-worker treated me like a person. A human, with feelings and needs and desires that matter. They treated me like I mattered.

Which, is the point of this very rambling post. Whatever you are doing, please, treat people like they matter. They really do. And your courtesy could turn around their whole day.

Anxiety weighs down the heart, but a kind word cheers it up. Proverbs 12:25 (Of course 12:16 leaves me feeling a bit foolish. Sigh. Always learning).

by their love...

In honor of Valentine's Day, let me ask you a personal question.
How do you show love to your friends? (Not your spouse... I'll leave that for married bloggers to handle)!

Do you buy flowers? Candy?
Do you make cards? Or spend way too much time in the card aisle trying to find just the right words?
Do you plan a special time to spend together?
Do you hug?
Do you do "a little something extra" - like wash her car or cook his favorite meal?

Now... let me ask another.
What do you like best to receive from those who love you?
Be honest. Don't say "anything." What is it that really, really makes you grin? You know... that face-splitting, she's-spoiled-and-we-all-know-it smile you just can't dim?

Is it the same?

See... being on the slow road has given me a great chance to think about the ways people show love to their friends and neighbors. Giving love takes effort (the married people are backing me up on this right now)... even when it's "just" to your friends.

I've been incredibly blessed by people who've given of their time to help me. I know that giving time is an act of love. I couldn't "do" this, if it weren't for that generosity - the rides to and from work, to and from church... that's what I need most right now. So I'm thankful for the folks who are giving it.

Two other beautiful souls I know are recovering from major medical procedures. They can't DO anything they are used to doing. No work. No favorite hobbies. They have both been blessed beyond measure by the time their spouses, children, and grandchildren spend fussing over them.

But love doesn't come with a one-size-fits-all tag. Time isn't always the answer.

A recent divorcee I know burst into tears when someone hugged her at church. She hadn't been hugged since before her husband left... months ago. A simple touch was what she needed most, to feel like someone really cared about her.

I know another woman who, faced with a life-changing illness, found herself surrounded by plenty of  folks willing to help. However, she has savings & family, so she didn't really need help. What her family couldn't manage, they paid to have done. Unfortunately, when she didn't have anything for her friends to do, they drifted away, leaving her to fight the demons of despair and discouragement alone. All she really wants is for someone to tell her she still matters. Words of hope. Words of love.

And, if I'm being completely honest, I may need the gift of time, but it's not what makes me want to shout from the mountaintops. My favorite gift is service. I felt SUPER blessed those first few weeks, when my family reached out in so many different ways to smooth my path. Even before I was hurt, I loved it when a friend surprised me by washing my car while I was at work. Or helping me decorate my classroom.


So... this Valentine's Day, stop and chat with your neighbor. Let her know she matters.  Invite someone you haven't seen for a while out for a cup of coffee or a walk in the park. Give a friend a hug. Give a stranger a hug. Give your mother a hug. Offer to help someone with their chores, vacuum their car, or shovel their snowy driveway. Volunteer for a day of service in the community.

Step out of your comfort zone, and try a new way of showing you care. I bet it will make your day brighter.

Jesus said we needed to love our neighbors as ourselves. One of my favorite old Christian song declares "they will know we are Christians by our love" (click here to hear the Jars of Clay version).  Let's make that true.

If you haven't read it, I recommend Gary Chapman's 5 Love Languages. If you have, you probably recognized the ideas I shared here. I read the book years ago, when it was trending around book-clubs and small groups. Any content here that is too close for comfort must be really really good, because it's what stuck in my head. 

road to recovery (Matt. 25:34-40)

It's been 4 weeks today since I fell and broke my foot.

A very long 4 weeks, and this adventure is still in the beginning stages.Doc said it's two more weeks -at least- before I can start putting any weight on it. There was some talk of maybe being able to drive by the end of April. There's a lot of days and weeks between now and then. Thankfully, I'm getting pretty good at taking this journey one day at a time.

So, I'm pleased to report I'm on the road to recovery. And I've discovered there are some truly beautiful souls on this road.

Today, for instance, a teacher I barely know gave up 3 hours of her off-time on a snow day to run a very important errand for me. She's recovering from a nasty cold. Her husband, whom I've never met, joined her. Beautiful souls.

Since it is a snow day, I've had time to think. I thought I ought to update this blog (it's been 10 days, and my goal was weekly).

I've never seen my freezer
quite so full!

I've been thinking and thinking and thinking all day about how to express my gratitude to the wonderful people in my life, and I just can't find an answer. I don't have the words. How do I recognize the sacrifices of the servant-hearts that set aside their own needs for a time to help make my life easier? How can I show my gratitude to the partners who took on extra work and responsibilities to free up someone to help me? How can I ever explain how much it means to me not to face this little speedbump alone? How do I show my appreciation for the helping hands that cleaned and organized my house, filling it with good food and good cheer? How do I acknowledge the patience of the wonderful, beautiful children who joyfully did their parts to lighten my load?  How do I explain the way the cards, flowers, gifts, e-mails, and phone calls help beat back the frustration and discouragement?

My dad & mom. My sister & brother-in-law. My niece & nephew. My sister's mother-in-law. A couple of aunts. An uncle & a cousin. My grandmother. My students. My co-teachers. My principal. The pastor & his wife. My wonderful family. My dear, dear friends. So many people. So many blessings. So much to be thankful for!

I can't begin to express the depths of my gratitude. So I'm going to stop trying. I'll just say one more "THANK YOU." And then I'll share this passage of scripture that's really been on my mind the last couple days. It's longer than usual, but definitely appropriate.

^{Matthew 25: 34 -40} 

³⁴ “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Thank you. Thank YOU.  Thank you. 

I am thankful for you!

Happy Birthday ...to me! (Prov. 16:9)

Last week I posted about my broken foot and how it was testing my faith.
This week, God took events that looked like problems, and turned them into blessings. Reassurances, that even in the little things, He's still there. Which is exactly what I needed.


Problem #1 - flight delay.
With my broken leg, I'm needing a lot of help. Now the baton gets passed from my fantastically patient sister to the next helper in line. The schedule: Afternoon arrival. Dinner out together to celebrate - and to get me out of the house. A little time to get familiar with the apartment and routines before bed.

Or...not! Early morning check-in revealed a flight delay.


So, plans change.

Lunch out, instead of dinner. We decided to try some local sushi. It was tasty. Even better, we had great service. We even got a free piece of "you live in the south now" fried cheesecake! Better still, we enjoyed it all with lots of laughs.

Which put us in the right frame of mind to handle problem #2 - forgotten keys.

See, it's my home, but we left in my sister's car. You can see how that might lead to a problem, can't you?Yup! A couple errands after lunch, we realized we didn't have the keys. We had to kill a few hours until a solution (in the form of my landlord) would be available.



So we decided to cash in a "reward." Which led to a haircut and style. The first truly normal thing I've done since I hurt myself.

When I got home, I even found flowers at the door! Flowers. ;-)

I feel like a princess.
Which is especially fantastic since it was my birthday!

Of course, it wouldn't have happened if everything had gone according to MY plan.
So... like my devotional this morning suggested, I'm going to stop looking at the storm. The storm will pass. I'm going to look to the light.






In his heart, a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.  -Proverbs 16:9

Looking backward, while moving forward (Ro 8:28)

I know that's a long little title. It's perfect for this post in so many ways, though.

This is my first post of the New Year. What do we do as we start the new year? Look back at last year's failures and plan for success moving forward, right?  This isn't going to be a post about resolutions, though. I didn't make any. Except maybe to be less stubborn. Be kinder to others. Share more of myself.

The title is also perfect, because it is the answer to the question I'm hearing the most these days... "what happened?" You see, I broke my leg over Christmas break because I was doing exactly that - looking backward to say "goodbye" to someone, while moving forward out their door. Um, there was a step there. Ouch.

I'm sure there's an allegory there. I'll leave you to work it out.

It's a nasty break. My right leg. The docs and nurses were all impressed with how well I broke it. One doc said 3-6 months of healing, BEFORE rehab and PT. 6 months of not driving. At least. Right now I'm not allowed to put any weight on it at all. Suddenly I own a shower chair. Toilet rails. A walker. All because I was looking backward while moving forward. Yes, folks, walking and talking at the same time requires a certain level of skill!

However, the real reason I chose that title, is because it describes the strategy I'm using to keep my sanity as I heal. Looking backward... while moving forward.

You may remember, how in April, I decided to move away from the community I had lived in for a dozen years. In August, with God's blessing, I landed across the country in a new neighborhood.

With God's blessing.


As I struggle to move forward with the day-to-day challenges of being broken, I keep reviewing all the steps that brought me here, to this place, at this time.

I'm still confident that God blessed my move.

I also believe that nothing happens to God's people that is outside of his control. So He allowed this accident to happen this year. Last year, I made the same trip. Walked out the same door. Last year I would have been going home to that community of care. This year, I'm on my own, and my family has had to get creative to help me out. My parents. My sister. My Aunt. Help coming in from 3 different states, and none of them the one in which I live! Last year I had tons of sick leave. This year, there was barely enough to cover the immediate crisis. Last year, I would have felt - just a little - more in control.

Ha!

So I've got to believe there was a reason, or many reasons, why this accident happened this year.

So I'm looking backward. At my journal and notes and blog from last year, as I set aside the old life and took up the new. I'm remembering that the reasons I moved were to draw closer to family, and to learn to trust God-the-provider to meet my needs.

Ha, ha!

So I'm praying. And learning. And healing. And growing. And looking backward... while moving forward.

...and we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. - Romans 8:28

Home, revisited. (Josh 1:9)

I know I'm overdue to post.
I was on a roll, there, writing every week - even if some of the topics were truly insignificant.
Like my last one, about what it means to go "home" for the holidays.
Then the holidays came. And I broke my leg.


That's right. 3 days after Christmas, while spreading holiday cheer with my dad, I fell out a door and broke my leg. To be more specific, my right leg. The one I need in order to drive.
To quote the folks who worked on me - I did a "good job." Everyone who had access to my x-rays or case notes was impressed with how well I broke it.

I was impressed with the care I recieved.
The ambulance drivers were friendly, composed, and calm - if not entirely coordinated. The ER nurses were helpful and reassuring. The surgeon explained things clearly, listened to my concerns, and accepted my input, respectfully. The anesthesiologist even joked with me. This might seem like no-big-deal to you, or that's-how-it-should-be, but I've seen a lot of ER's over the years (though this was my first time *on* the bed since grade-school), and I know that's not always the case. So, my compliments to the crisis team.

I was on vacation when it happened. 550+ miles from home. Visiting my parents for Christmas.
I am so thankful I was. They were amazing. My dad held my leg while we waited for the ambulance. My mom bought me dresses while I was in the hospital, since all I'd packed were pants. My brother & his fiancee brought the baby to give me hugs - even on the coldest night of the year.

Once I got out of the hospital, my dad - who is generally stuck home due to his own health concerns - was the best nurse ever! He waited on me constantly for a week. Spoiled me totally rotten, in a way I suspect he's wanted to do for years. Mom became a quite a strategist, figuring out how to wash my hair, with no chairs to put by the sink, painting my toe-nails to match my cast, packing my gear so I could travel. And thanks to my brother and his girl, that beautiful baby kept coming around.



Then, finally and yet too soon, I got my clearance to travel home.



Home, where I live independently. Home, where I've been for just under 6 months.

Home, where an acquaintance spent 2 days rescuing my car from the parking lot where I'd left it, so confident I'd be back soon.

Home, where another virtual stranger picked me up from the airport at dawn and drove me to my door.

Home, where the nearest family is 4 hours away.

Thank God my sister was able to come up and join me for a few days. She's helped me shop for the things an invalid needs, rearranged the house to be more mobility-friendly, and helped me feel not quite so lost. She also brought cute kids to give me hugs. Oh, and new wine glasses, for when I am ready to celebrate.

I look back on my decision to move here, and the hundred ways God blessed that move. I re-read my own blog from August, and really do believe He was with me, coming here, at this time.

I also believe He allowed this accident to happen this winter. Somehow this is all part of "the plan."

So I have to believe that somehow He will bring it all together for good.

Because right now, I just want to go home. Home to mom's house. Home to my sister's couch. Home to Tacoma, where I left so many wonderful, helpful friends. Home, dear readers, I have finally realized, is where you are not alone.


Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. - Joshua 1:9

(Super thanks to my friend CM who posted this verse on Facebook just when I needed it the most. Thanks, girl, for following the Spirit's leading. May you be blessed, always!).

Home for the Holidays (Heb 11:9a)

NYC 2012

Years ago, I remember my Uncle Bill telling me not to answer the everyday-ordinary question "how are you?" with the reflexive answer "fine." He said that if someone was taking the trouble to ask me a question, the least I could do was give them an honest and well-considered answer. To this day, I can't say "fine," when asked about my general disposition.

Lately, though, people keep asking me if I'm going home for the holidays, and I wish I could pop off with an easy answer. I know it's just conversation. I know they mean well.  They're just being friendly. However, I don't think they realize how difficult that question is for me.

Because I don't know what "home" means.

When they say "home," I think they mean to family. Unless they don't. Maybe they mean to ask "are you going back to Washington?"

Santa's helper, 2012

The main reason I moved this summer was to be closer to family. In that sense, I am going home for the holidays. I've already been down to my sister's, inspected the tree, and dropped off gifts. I'll be travelling Christmas week to see my parents and my brother's family. There will be laughter and tears, wine and chocolate, twinkling lights and tinsel. There will be a baby underfoot for Christmas day; boxes everywhere, movies no one is really watching on TV, and good food in the kitchen. Is "to family" what they mean when they say "home?"

In fact, I have enjoyed quite a lot of fantastic family time in the last few months. I've seen my nephew play basketball and fight pirates. I was at my oldest niece's birthday party. I'm finally comfortable enough in my sister's kitchen to make my own coffee (though she didn't like my brew). I even surprised mom & dad (who are 12 hours away) one weekend - thanks to my soon-to-be-sister-in-law, who helped me with the details. I took my baby niece for doughnuts, and saw my brother's new place. I even got to connect with an aunt and a couple of cousins when they "escaped" to New York for a weekend. I could've seen another aunt and uncle, if he wasn't a straight-through-on-direct-routes type of traveler (or if I didn't have to work Fridays).  So in that sense, I guess I go "home" most weekends.

Ruston, WA, 2011

On the other hand, if by "home" my inquisitive friends mean Washington, the place I lived until just recently, then I'd have to say no. The time I've spent with my family since I moved has been priceless, and I don't regret my decision to get geographically closer. However, I have been feeling remarkably home-sick for the life I left behind. Home is my friends and our traditions. Home is knowing where the best celebrations are, and where to park when I go. Home is Cyndie's bread-pudding, "fruitcake" from the highschool, and half-day-spa-day at the start of break. Home is making cookies with the girls, attending half-a-dozen kids' concerts/recitals/pageants, helping with the Scott family's annual Christmas party. Home is sharing wine and (re)packing for vacation with my "other godmother;" cold December rain, and evergreens everywhere. Home is a murder-mystery on New Year's Eve. So, in that sense, no... I won't be home for the holidays.



Yet, that's not my home anymore.  I moved. So now I need to make new traditions, memories, and friends here, and I am working on it. That's the really ironic part. By asking if I'm going "home" for the holidays, my well-intentioned new friends inadvertently label me an other, an outsider. As if there's somewhere else I belong. The truth is, my home is HERE, where I chose to live. Maybe not in the apartment I'm in now - as I mentioned in an earlier post, it doesn't feel much like a home - but certainly here in this community.

on display outside the the 610 carwash, VA, 2012

Sure, I am alone in an unfamiliar town at a time of year when tradition and togetherness are the most common themes. When I get that "blue Christmas" feeling, though, I remember that the real heart of Christmas is Jesus, Immanuel, God-with-us. I'm not alone. And I'm not without traditions.

I'm thankful that people care enough to ask about my plans. I'm happy to make conversation. I just hope they forgive my momentary confusion, as I try to decide how to answer that tricky question. I guess I'm not going home for the holidays (though I certainly will be traveling). I am home. At least, as much as I can be this side of heaven.

By faith [Abraham] made his home in the promised land, like a stranger in a foreign country...."
  -Hebrews 11:9a

Happy Family-Season (Ps 104:12-13)

My sis took this pic. It's mom's backyard in NH.

September 21 was the official beginning of fall. For me, though, the weekend after Halloween seems like the real change of the seasons. Halloween, with its fairs and festivals, corn mazes and pumpkin patches, bonfires and frightful feasts, seems more like summer's last hurrah.

Now, the trees are shaking off their leaves. The coats, scarves, hats, and boots have been moved out of their hiding spots. Calendars are filling with holiday happenings. 

So, I'm thinking we need to rename the seasons.

Family Season: November & December.

One of my lovely "other" families.
God puts families together.
By birth or by other means.

Dear-old-dad trying to decide where to draw the line between need and want.

That *is* what the holidays are supposed to be about, right? I mean, there are those who would say it's more honest to call it the shopping season, but those people just don't have the right kind of loved ones. This is a great time to be thankful for the blessings we already have, and to make more memories, together!

Celebration Season: June - October.

How can you not celebrate when
there's yummy goodness on the grill?

Vacations. Staycations. Fairs. Festivals. Carnivals. Barbeques. There's just so much to celebrate!

Awakening Season: April & May. 

My sister, again. She does some great stuff with her camera!

Have you ever walked in a garden in the Spring? Or worked with tweens/teens?  Flowers opening to the sun. Tragic mudslides. Beauty and devastation, side by side. Teens and flowers. Yup. Spring.

Quiet Season: January - March. 

January 2012, Steilacoom WA, during the "snowpocalypse."

With just a few tiny exceptions, there's really not much happening at this time of year. We're recovering from the togetherness (and expense) of family season, and preparing for the coming awakening & celebrations. Plus, there's the likelyhood of snow. Hmmm... sounds like a good season for sleeping, reading, and rediscovering yourself. Oh, and the average person lasts until about March (less than 100 days) with their New Year's Resolution. Seems like a good time to change the subject -er- season.

Now that we're on the same page, let me say it again. Welcome to family season. Enjoy this time with family and friends. Celebrate the many ways they make your life richer, better, more fun, more interesting. Whether you are looking at falling leaves or twinkling lights, think of the countless little ways your loved ones make your life more colorful, and count yourself blessed. I know I do.

In the trees near by, the birds make their nests and sing. From the sky you send rain on the hills, and the earth is filled with your blessings.                            --Psalm 104:12-13 GNT

Wild Weather (Is 6:20)

This picture was from a good article on CNBC.com (click to follow link).

The experts are calling it Frankenstorm. Hurricane Sandy meets Nor'easter (hot wind + cold wind) during a full moon. I think the nickname is quite funny, but I know that it's really nothing to laugh at.

I'm as ready as I can be. I have an emergency radio.The flashlights all have new batteries. All my water jugs are full, I have extra water in the cupboard, and there's plenty of peanut butter, granola bars, and apples. The first aid kits are stocked (all except the neosporin - somehow I forgot to replenish that). My phone and computer are living on their chargers.

I live in a basement, though. So half of my supplies are in the car, just in case. The gas tank is full. My sister lives safely south of the "affected area," so I have a plan. 

Having just moved, I'll admit, I didn't have my emergency stuff in order; I had to go buy water Friday night. Along with about half the city, it seems, because the stores were nearly sold out of water. And bread. And beer (not that I wanted beer - I prefer just about anything else! - but I couldn't help noticing the empty shelves). My sister assures me that if I'd checked the diapers aisle that would've been low, too.

Which got me to thinking about preparedness. In my entire adult life, I've never experienced a real disaster (thankfully). I spent most of my adult life in the western Puget Sound region; a region naturally protected from too much trauma - other than the occasional mild earthquake. This past January, we endured "snowpocalypse," a massive snow and ice storm that kept the city shut down for a week. I was without power for 3 days, some friends were out longer. My main concerns during that event were 1) keeping icy branches from crushing my car and 2) cabin-fever! While living in Denver, I also experienced a couple of genuine so-called "blizzards," but a blizzard in the city looks much different than the ones you might imagine from Little House on the Prarie. All that to say, I've had no reason to be prepared.

But I (sortof) was. Ever since my first perceptible earthquake (2001) - I've had an "emergency kit." Just in case. I generally rotate the goods in it with the seasons, just to keep things fresh. So I don't really understand the shoppers who clean the shelves at the last minute. They can't all be new to town. They can't ALL have just finished unpacking and setting up a new life. They live here. There was a big wind storm here this summer. It knocked out power to parts of VA for over a week. Maybe they used up their supplies then. Maybe they should've stocked up again after that?

By Courtney Carmody, via Flickr

Which reminded me: Jesus says "no man knows the day or the hour" (Matthew 24:36) of His return. He even told a story about women, waiting for their husbands to return from a deployment, during a storm, and not having batteries in their flashlights (ok, it wasn't exactly like that, but it could have been - Matthew 25). When the end of the world finally arrives, we won't have days to prepare. We won't have alarms and storm trackers and friends and neighbors calling to be sure we have everything we need. When the end of this world of pain and suffering finally comes, it will be in the blink of an eye. 

So we need to be ready, and we need to reach out to our friends and neighbors NOW to help them be ready, because we love them, and we want them to be safe. So call someone. Share the good news.
The end *is* coming. Let's get ready together.

"Your days of grief will come to an end. I, the Lord, will be your eternal light." -Isaiah 6:20

I thought of you today... (Col 1:17)

“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one”  - CS Lewis

I thought of you today. Yes, you. I was out today, being random, enjoying my new life, and I thought of you. I know you enjoy adventures, and being random. I thought of you when I was at the mall, sipping delicious, fru-fru coffee, looking at beautiful fall clothes and not buying overpriced sparkly shoes; when the survey woman asked when I'd last seen a movie; when I laughed at the Halloween decorations; when I was staring at the wine shelf in the grocery store, deciding what to try. I thought of you when I was at the antique store, the flea market, goodwill, looking for furniture and finding surprises. I thought of you when I passed the seafood restaurant, the taco truck, the sushi bar, the Thai place. I thought of you when I was driving on a beautiful, winding, tree lined road, windows down, music up;  when that song we laughed at came on the radio; when I was washing my car; when I got caught in the warm, splashing Virginia rain 20 minutes later. I thought of you in my neighborhood, when I saw the jogger with her brightly colored jacket; the dog walker tangled in her leash; the home-owner on his deck lighting a grill; the children on their bikes. I thought of you when I got home and saw the vase you gave me, the owl you gave me, the book you recommended, the scrapbook I'm going to make, the games we played on long winter nights, eating popcorn and watching movies. I thought of you when I did the chores I least enjoy, and remembered how we kept each other company. Somewhere, some time, I read that the only thing that lasts into eternity are the Godly relationships we build here on Earth. I know there's guarantee of that. Still, I am so thankful that God put us together. I pray that I can be a blessing to you, as you are to me. I thought of you today, and knew I was loved. Thank you.  [God] is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. Colossians 1:17

Blessed! (Eph 2:10)

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. 
- Ephesians 2:10

As I prepare for my big adventure, one thing has become very clear to me. God's got a lot of hands here in the Puget Sound area. I've been blessed in so many ways, by so many people, over the last couple weeks, that I haven't had to sweat this move much at all yet. And I've been very busy enjoying everyone's company.

So... I'm publishing this little bitty blog just to thank all the wonderful people who helped me out. And to let you all know that I haven't forgotten the blog. I've just been busy enjoying every minute of friend-time that I could squeeze in. Too busy to sit by myself in a room and write. In fact, my computer has been pretty much offline for 3 weeks, and I've been mainly relying on my smartphone to stay connected. (God bless the inventors of SmartPhones!).

I'll get back to better writing, with more details, as I get on the road. In two days. Two days! I can't believe how quickly the time has passed.

Keep me in your prayers!

Two Weeks Notice (PS 92:4)

Two weeks from yesterday, one of the top 5 most interesting men I know (under 40) is coming for a visit. (Before you get bent out of shape, dad, note all the qualifiers in that sentence).

Two weeks from today, I'll get to see a gal-pal I haven't seen in over 7 years while enjoying a bit of the crazy life that is her "normal," and doing good deeds for kids (check out OlympiaPubCrawl Weekend on FB). She's easily one of the most interesting women I know under 40, too.

Of course, I don't seem to know any dull, boring, or uninteresting people - of any age - but that's for another post. 

Two weeks from tomorrow, I'll be on my way to start the next phase of my life.

It's going to be a busy couple of weeks.

Before all that happens, I have to finish packing up my old life. Load it on a truck. Stuff my car with the essentials (after I figure out what those are). I have to deep clean my near-empty apartment. I have to check in with the doctors and the cable company to be sure I haven't got any loose ends. I have to print maps, just in case the electronics fail me en-route. (I do have my grandmother's sense of direction, after all).

I have to bake cookies and a cake. Because I have all the ingredients, and there's really no sense in wasting them. 

Then I get to take those cookies and that cake to friends' and share them. Because I have a lot of visiting to do in the next two weeeks. I get to help a family welcome a much-beloved soldier home from a tour of duty. I get to celebrate Christmas in July with the most fantastic group of foodies around. I get to be the guest of honor at a party I'm throwing. I get to wander by the waterfront. I get to help a friend move. I get to go to a concert. I might even get to a garden.

I'm so excited about my move - and so busy getting ready for it - that I haven't got time to worry (much). But it's okay. Because I know God's got it covered. I get to rely on Him. And I love that. 

For you make me glad by your deeds, Lord; 

I sing for joy at what your hands have done.

-Psalm 92:4

Saturday Night: A Tale of Two Sisters

My sister's wedding (2011). Picture by Michelle Whitehead Photography.

My sister and I, both in our early thirties, both fun-loving, generally happy people, both went out last night. She had a date night. I went to a dinner party.

She tried on dresses and curled her hair. She wanted to wear something that her husband would really appreciate. I donned a costume, dramatic jewelry, and wrenched my hair into old-fashioned braids, just as certain that the details make all the difference.

She made sure the dogs took care of business, tidied up the house, loaded backpacks with clothes, toys, and (of course) the ipad in the car, before locking up and taking the kids to grandma's. I wrestled a carrying-box with soup and bread and cheese and bowls out the door, down the stairs, into the car, then ran upstairs to close and lock the door, thankful that I no longer have a cat named Frog who would have bolted out that open door or taken advantage of the mess I left in the kitchen.

I tried to figure out how to keep soup from sloshing all over my car while I drove. I just wanted there to be something left in the crock-pot when I arrived. She chatted with her kids and cranked up the tunes.

When she reached her destination, she had waiters eager to fulfill her every wish. My friends and I worked together to put the finishing touches on dinner, set the table, and serve each other the treats we'd so carefully prepared.

We talked about jobs and children and coming adventures.

After dinner we enjoyed some drama. My friends and I solved a murder-mystery set on the doomed Titanic. My sister and her husband went to see "Wrath of the Titans." I'm sure doom and  murder were involved.

I was home, in bed, before midnight. I think she was, too. 

The thing is... we both had a great time.

Yes, sometimes I wish I had her life - the kids, the dog (just one, though), the loving husband. I like to think that sometimes she envies the randomness that is mine. However different our lives are, though, we share a love for celebrating life, making the most of every little thing. I love that about us.

"What's the motto with you?"

Mottos are funny things. You don't really choose them. They find you. Mine turned up on a ring I found in the clearance bin. A ring that just happened to fit my fat fingers, and was a style I like. Perfect.

It was also a perfect reminder of the mindset I'd decided to cultivate in this season of my life. Having finally recognized it was past time to stop wishing for things God clearly didn't want me to have yet (husband, children, a home with a view), I knew I needed to shift my focus to the life I actually have.


When I took the time to really look, I had to admit, the life I'm living is chock-full-o-blessings. I have a cute and roomy apartment in a wonderful suburban community. The kind of suburb that still has trees everywhere and no street lights. The kind that has apple-squeezes and Fourth of July parades and daddy-daughter dances at the community center. If I take a nice healthy walk, I can enjoy one of the best views around.

No, I'm not in the boonies, either. With my lovely car (another blessing, thankyouverymuch), and 20 minutes time, I can be just about anywhere. Work. Shopping. A variety of tasty restaurants. Movie theaters. Community theaters. Coffee shops (okay, those are less than 5 mins away - another blessing!).

I travel. That's something I'd have to do a lot less of if I had kids. I know, because my kid sister has 2 kids. I count them in my blessings, too. Even though they live on the other side of the country, I get to see them every year. Usually at a beach or pool. Joy!

My brother added another little blessing to the family last year. He's in a slightly different (though still far away) direction, so visiting him gives me a different vacation experience.

I have a steady job that I usually find pretty rewarding. In this day and age, that's a big blessing. I can pay my bills and still have a little "mad money" to play with. I know I should save more, and I'm working on that (but travel's just so much fun!). Even so, I don't feel stressed out, and that's a blessing.

My relationships are my biggest blessings, though. I get along well with my family. I have more good friends in my life today than many people have in a lifetime. My small-friends invite me to their birthday parties, school plays, concerts, and celebrations. We go ice-skating and do fun projects. Sometimes we even sneak off to McDonalds. My other friends (the grownups) like to have me over to rearrange their homes, cook (and eat) dinner, watch movies or tv, play stupid games (or dance to the wii!) and sometimes even solve a murder. I don't have to car-shop, eat out, or go to the movies alone unless I want to. I can borrow a cup of sugar (or a crock-pot) at just about any hour of the day or night. There's always somewhere to go, something to do, and someone to do it with. In fact, sometimes I have to schedule time home to do my laundry!

In short, I really do love the life I live. I just needed a little reminder.
A good motto will help you re-frame your world. Find one.

The Cactus of Thanksgiving

A couple years back, a friend of mine gave me a flowering cactus, to replace a treasured houseplant that just had not been able to survive my black thumb. She assured me that even I could keep this gem from dying.

Turns out she was right. It's still alive. Even better, it's blooming! Which took me by surprise, partly because I thought it was a Christmas Cactus (she tells me it is actually a Thanksgiving Cactus), and partly because in the last two years, it really hasn't bloomed before. Oh, sure, it has had buds a couple of times. One or two even opened. However, even a garden gnome could see that wasn't all it was capable of.

It's truly blooming now, though, and it looks great. I have to admit, I might have missed it. It's on top of the fridge - not a spot I look at often. Thank God it's so bright, bold, and obvious.

Now, being a black thumb, I'm not really sure why this time is different. It's living environment didn't really change. It's lived on top of my fridge for a while, getting moderate sunlight through the patio door. The amount of water hasn't been changed. The temperature inside is pretty much the same year-round, excepting that we turn the heater down at nights for bed, so winter/fall nights are cooler. Despite all that same-ness, the plant is blooming now, when it hadn't before. So, I know SOMETHING changed. Something indefinable, invisible, and critical. Somehow, now, the plant is finally ready to bloom. God only knows why.

GOD only knows why.

I don't really have to tell you why I thought this was worth a spot here, on this blog, do I? The plant could be me. It could represent my whole life, or just one certain area of it. The plant could be my family, blooming with understanding and compassion. The plant could be my friends, coming into bloom in their jobs and relationships. The plant could be our faith maturing and blooming over time.

I know what it means to me today. Today it is one part of my life, the place where I needed the most encouragement. Chances are, something in your life is like this plant, too.

You're afraid it might be dead or dying. Look again. It isn't. You might just have the wrong name for it, or be expecting it in the wrong season. It's surviving, despite the odds. In fact, it's growing, maturing... even if it's not truly thriving. 

If you think back, you might even remember a time when it sent out little test buds just to remind you that it was alive. A part of your life. Put there by God. Not to taunt and torment you, but to help you have hope. To remind you to look, wait, watch. Because each and every day, your cactus is getting closer to a full, bursting bloom!

Gardeners and farmers understand patience better than just about anyone on earth. Folks like me...well, we need a reminder every now-and-then. I am thankful that God knows just when to send them.