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...?

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

4-3-2-1 (Prov 3:5-6)

A little more than 10 weeks ago I decided to move across the country. This is the 4th entry in a somewhat belated journal about my adventure.

As I mentioned, last time, in order to make such a big move, there were a few important things I needed to figure out. 1)      I’d need a job. 2)      I’d need a home. 3)      I’d need to figure out how to get my stuff to my new home.

Option 1: Get rid of all my stuff and start over.
This option was attractive for its elegant simplicity. No fuss, no muss. Sometime, I just might write about the three times I've done exactly that. Stuff, after all, is just stuff. So I took inventory: one well-loved couch & armchair. A beautiful bedroom set that I love. Books. Some shelves - both homemade and put-together-from-boxes (not nearly enough for the books, though).  Lovely things, but it's not like I they were antiques or heirlooms. I didn't even have a kitchen table or dishes. My treasures have always been my relationships.

---And, it turns out, the mementos of those relationships. When I sat down to inventory my life, I found just a few things I couldn't part with (or digitize).

My hope chest (custom made for me by the men in my family).

My scrapbooks (and scrapbooks in progress). Together these hold my most cherished memories.

My journal-boxes (which fill the hope chest). Journals, creative writing, playbills, graduation announcements, and other assorted mementos (and special jewelry) representing milestones in my life and the lives of those I love.

If these things were taken from me by a fire or flood, I would have to deal with it. But I could never choose to get rid of them. And since they wouldn't fit in my car anyway, selling the rest of the stuff would be foolish.

Option 2: Drive a moving van myself.
This is, after all, how my family usually moves. Rent the big white truck. Load it. Drive it. Unload it.
Unload it.
That might be a problem. See, on the loading end, I was pretty sure I could arrange for help. Since I knew no one in VA, unloading would be all me. Imagine, please, me, myself, and I moving a long horizontal dresser. Or a hope chest. Or a couch. All alone.
Yea. Not really an option.


Option 3: Hire movers
This was stressful, because it was the unknown option. I don't do well with unknowns. It was a little more expensive than renting a moving van (but not really, if I had to hire muscle to help at my destination).

I did my research, and I found out that really there's not much a customer can do beyond choosing a reputable moving company. Other than that, it's all out of your hands. Which is, after all, the point.

So, I decided to hire movers.
I got estimates.
I arranged dates.
I gave notice to my landlord.
My roommate and I started packing.







You may have noticed that I skipped #2: find a home. Um...yea. Initially, I thought I could find a place with a short term lease by doing my research online. In the 21st century, it should be easy enough to use search engines and satelite maps to start looking for apartments. Once I had a job and a zipcode, I was sure I could at least get some ideas, find safety data for neighborhoods, read reviews. With any luck I could call some managers and be pretty set before I arrived.

So I started to do all that. I made lists, and found links. Then I took a break and helped my roommate in WA find her a new place. She began her search exactly as I planned to begin mine - online. Together we went to check out some of her prospects in this city we'd lived in for 13 years.

Have you seen that commercial for ... actually, I don't even know what it's for. It ends with the "French model." Here's a link to a shortened youtube clip.  Yea.

My point is this: the internet is good for many things, but for me, at any rate, finding a new home long-distance is not one of them. We were suckered into looking at some pretty awful places in a city we knew really well. (She did find a cute place, by the way). I found myself imagining all the horrors I might get myself into if I tried to follow through on my plan. So, I gave up the internet search, and once again, found myself praying that the Lord would provide. Knowing that could mean anything. Confident I would be taken care of.

I packed up (with the help of MANY fabulous friends).
The movers came.
I turned in my keys.
And stepped out in faith.

I arrived in my new town on a Thursday morning, with no clue where I was going to live.
Friday evening I had a landlord.
Sunday I had a lease.
Monday I moved in.

My (front) door. Welcome.

The house. I have the basement.

The "across the street" neighbors.

I don't know you, but I call that a miracle.

Do you want to know the very best part?
The new apartment came with a kitchen table. And bookcases. My very own golden fleece, right there in my empty new apartment. (Not sure what I'm talking about? Check out Gideon's story in the Bible). I hadn't even asked for reassurance, but God provided it for me anyway.

Because He knows my heart, and knows that I tend to worry, doubt, and second-guess.
But, as I sit at my table and type, I'm learning to trust. How could I not?

Just over 10 weeks ago I decided to completely rearrange my life. With little savings, in a bad economy, I decided to move across the country to a state where I didn't know a single person, for no better reason than that I wanted to. Anyone with any sense will tell you that this should NEVER have worked out. Yet, it did. It did.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make straight your paths. -Proverbs 3:5-6

8-7-6-5 (Mk 10:27)

10 weeks ago I decided to move across the country. This is the 3^rd entry in a somewhat belated journal about my adventure.

Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but not with God; all things are possible with God.” - Mark 10:27

In order to make such a big move, there were a few important things I needed to figure out.

1)      I’d need a job. Probably teaching, since I’m still paying off the student loans.

2)      I’d need a home.

3)      I’d need to figure out how to get my stuff to my new home.

(Nope. Didn't create this one either. Sometimes I love Google. Sometimes I hate it)

Plus I needed to finish the 2011/2012 school year. If you didn’t realize it, the last month of school is a terrifically busy time for teachers. There’s the last push to finish covering material. Projects to wrap up. Reviews. Tests. And GRADES. Not to mention all the “end of year” fluff that makes it memorable for the students and their families – field days, field trips, yearbooks, assemblies, awards and showcases. Oh, and the behind-the-scenes stuff – staff meetings, ranking lists, transition notes for next year’s teachers, debriefing curriculum maps, and planning necessary changes for next year.

So, I had to prioritize. Since I don’t like commuting, I decided to tackle finding a job first.

Goal:  any teaching or other position in 3^rd – 8^th grade for which I am qualified.  In a VA district within a 4 hour drive of Raleigh. Not more than 2 hours from ocean access.

Strategy : Apply everywhere. Pray for the right doors to open.

Turns out that everywhere within my boundaries includes more than 35 school divisions (districts). Most with their own online application portal. After eliminating a few that were too rural, or listed a pay rate far lower than my current salary, I still had 25 reasonable candidates.

Prayerfully I began filling out packets and answering questions.

Lord, please lead me to a job. Help my application stand out from the crowd. Surely, there’s got to be some district that needs a teacher with my skills. Please, open a door. I just need one reasonable offer. 

As I filled out applications, more questions came up.

It was clear that VA has an openness to out of state candidates. There appeared to be openings, but were districts truly hiring outside candidates? A lot of districts in the Puget Sound area had posted openings that were filled by internal candidates, or teachers who had been RIF’d (laid off) due to continuing budget problems. What if all the openings I was seeing were the same type of phantom openings? Would I be able to get a job from out of state? Could I perhaps do some preliminary phone interviews, then arrange to fly out for a week early in the summer and do a bunch of in person interviews all at once?

If I couldn’t find a full-time teaching position, what else could I do? Could I get work in a district office, doing something clerical? Or working with the assessment folks? I knew I could probably sub, but would that pay the bills? No matter what, I was taking a pay cut moving to VA. And I would have to pay state taxes. And I didn’t have a roommate any more. Could I afford part-time work? How long would it be before I was working daycare again? Waiting tables?

A hundred questions. A hundred uncertainties. A hundred reasons to change my mind.

(Another image I did not create. I really need to get more creative.)

Funny, though, I never once considered NOT going.  

I was acting on my new understanding of God the Provider. I was trusting in my assurance that this was “okay” with my Heavenly Father, and that He would be with me, come what may.  

• 10 weeks ago, I decided to move across country.
• 9 weeks ago, I turned in the first of many job application packets.
• 8 weeks ago, I got my first interview, over the phone. The possibility that I could get a job from a phone (or Skype?) interview hadn’t really occurred to me before. I was excited. That would save me the costs of a trip. I began to pray for just such an opportunity.
• 7 weeks ago, I sent my 7^th group of students off for their summer vacation. I decided to allow myself two more weeks to focus on the job hunt, then I’d have to work on the other details.
• 6 weeks ago, I finished submitting the 25^th and final packet. I had never heard back from that first interview. I faced the possibility that I might be moving without a job. I prayed for wisdom. I prayed for confidence.
• 5 weeks ago, I had my second phone interview. On Tuesday. OnThursday, I had a job.

From a phone interview.

Because with God, truly, all things are possible.

10-9-8 (Jn 10:10)

So... 10 weeks ago (June 4th, about 3 am) I decided to move (if you didn't read part one of this move-journal "what's in your heart," you might want to do that now). I decided to take a walk with God-the-provider, and see what happened.

Now, don't get me wrong. I understand that there are many levels of provision. I recognized that I could very well find myself on bread and water for the next 40 years. While that would be quite a change from the salmon and steak I've become accustomed to, I wasn't worried.

I was excited. Like a kid at Christmas. Tingly, giggly, cannot sleep excited.
So I quit trying to sleep and started lining up ducks.


First - decide where, exactly, to go.
Closer to family, which was part of the "why," meant the East Coast. There's a lot of choices there. Just to prove I can summarize a little, I won't go through the whole process of elimination with you. After all, it took less than 5 minutes in my head, it seems only fair to keep it short for you. In the end, I decided on NC, SC, or VA.

In Bible times, this would be where they sent out a scouting party. Joshua checking out Jericho. Me, I've got the internet. By dawn I knew the licensing requirements for teachers in all three states. NC was out, on the grounds that they would make me take expensive qualifying tests. I'm a great test-taker, but a horrible saver, plus, taking qualifying tests to do a job I was already doing didn't sit well with me. SC didn't require the tests, but did warn that they might be requested at a later time. VA wanted 3+ years of teaching experience, no expensive tests required. I had a winner.

And it "felt" right.

My sis was a little dissappointed that I ruled out NC so early. I never really reconsidered. I did try to seriously consider SC, but it was farther from my parents and brother's family. I also just felt more peaceful about VA. I like to believe it was a little Holy Spirit soothing.


I'm not saying God called me to VA. Maybe He did, and time will tell. But I am saying that he approved of my desire to go there.

Parents, you know what I mean. Junior asks if he borrow the car to go see the newest alien invaders movie with his friends. You might wish he'd stay home, enjoy any of the hundreds of DVD's you already have, and save his money. Or go to the park. Or go visit grandma, who misses him. Or clean his room. Or at least wait until the movie comes to the cheap theater.  But you can see the desire of his heart is to have this adventure with his friends, at this time. So you say, "okay," and you give him the keys. Gladly. Because you trust him, and his friends, and you know he'll make wise choices.

As I pondered this move, more verses came to mind, assuring me that God was in this, God was OK with this. God created me with a desire for adventure. Jesus came that I might live life abundantly. For too long I had been living as a slave to imagined "shoulds." I should settle down. I should be content with a life that many would consider a complete success. I should NOT take risks in this economy. I have a job, I should just stick it out. I should NOT leave my friends. I should be happy.

I had subconsciously turned my great God (partly) into a cosmic King Midas. You remember him, don't you? In his desire to make everything in his kingdom perfect, Midas stifled his own beloved daughter - nearly killed her. I knew God loved me, but I felt chained by beauty and love and friendship and security and comfort. Golden chains, it turns out, are still chains.

As I considered my options, I remembered a few more kingdom principles. Family is important. God created the whole planet, and there is more beauty in it than just Puget's Sound (though it's hard to imagine anything topping that view). God got me the job I had in University Place, He could surely get me another. True friendships can survive time and distance.

Most importantly, God is not King Midas.

So by 6 am I had called my sister and told her the news.
By 8am I had told my boss.
Just two weeks after having re-decorated my classroom to be better organized for next school year, I was telling my boss that I wouldn't be back after all.

And so I began filling out paperwork to get my credentials in VA. I began applying online for jobs. I began trusting that somehow it would all work out.

I began my adventure. And I felt alive!

The thief comes only to steal, kill, and destroy;
I have come that they might have life, and have it to the full. - John 10:10

What's in your heart? (PS 37:4)

Take delight in the Lord,and he will give you the desires of your heart. 

(I did not make this picture. I haven't been to a sunny, sandy beach this year. Yet?)

Oh my goodness! If I didn't know this was true before this journey, I would certainly be convinced now.
I'd like to spend the next few days sharing a snapshot of the last 10 weeks of my life. If I were a different person, I could use less words and fit it all into one post. But if you know me, you know "succint" is not in my toolkit.

As I shared in an earlier post, my motto for the last couple years has been "love the life you live." Paul and Timothy both touted the virtues of contentment. I have made a point - almost a discipline - of noticing and being thankful for the little blessings that God had poured out on me. 12 weeks ago, I had one of those great weeks that are easy to enjoy. Dinner with a friend. Checkups with the dentist and the eye doctor. Lining up easy work for the summer, and looking forward to vacation. Preparing for the end of the school year, and planning ahead for the next one. Organizing. Cleaning. A friend even came into my classroom one weekend to help me re-arrange posters so the walls would be ready for September. Ballet with yet another friend, and chosing shows to see the following season.

Then, June 3 (just over 10 weeks ago), in a sermon series on the Lord's prayer, we hit the phrase "give us this day our daily bread." Simple, right? Just a handy reminder that God's our ultimate provider, that He wants us to rely on Him, and that He's happy to give us what we need.

Unless you dwell on it. Simple doesn't stay simple for long when you really think about it.
"Give us this day our daily bread."
Like He did for the Israelites in the desert. When they didn't know what to expect or how they would survive, God rained down mana from heaven. Simple fare. Basic. But it met their needs. They rejoiced. It was like nothing they'd ever had before. It was amazing. They were satisfied.

Until they weren't. They complained. Still the food came.
Then they whined about the other petty problems they had. Still the food came.
Then they turned to an idol. A golden cow. An idol it took them days to make.
Still the food came. Every morning. While they used their talents and treasures to create a statue to worship.

Still the food came.

WOW! That understanding blew me away. Literally blew open the doors of my mind.

Now, some of you will read this and go "duh." I think that's the way spiritual maturity is supposed to work, and I'm glad. I've been a Christian for 20+ years, and am also glad I still get surprised by God. It makes my heart dance when I figure out some new truth.

And for me, that's what happened early on the morning of June 4. I finally truly understood that God takes care of His own, always. ALWAYS. Once you trust your life to Jesus, commit to following Him, no matter what wilderness might appear, God will always provide for you. I'd spent most of my journey walking with God the Protector. Now I was finding myself face-to-faith with God the Provider.

Whose Spirit reminded me of another familiar word - the one at the top of this post.

You see, as much as I loved my life 12 weeks ago, I felt restless. Incomplete. Frustrated. I wanted ... something. But I was afraid to reach out and try to find it because I could see what a good life I had. I felt like the most ungrateful wretch being dissatisfied in any way with such a lovely life. God had blessed me in so many ways. How could I not just be still and enjoy them? Turns out, I was not made to sit still.

Turns out that one of the desires of my heart was to move.
To see some more of "God's green Earth."
To challenge myself in the million ways you do when you move.
To be nearer my family and watch my nieces and nephew grow up.
To be where the sun shines more often than not.

I *do* love the life I left behind. I love my friends. The beautiful scenery. The temperate weather. The safety of the school and community where I lived.

But I also love adventure.

And I trust that God will provide. Because more than anything, I love my God. And He promised that He's got me covered.

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

(Repost) Wanderers!

I originally posted this in the summer of 2009 on facebook. Reposted because... well... summer's coming!

So...

If you know me well at all, then you know that I grew up in a family of wanderers. Nomads. Gypsies. Whatever you want to call it, we are a people who don't know how to stay put. If you don't know me well (yet), perhaps the easiest way to sum it up is to say I attended 10 schools from grade six through grade 12. I'm not an "army brat." I'm blue-collar, and proud of it. Mom's a waitress. Dad's in construction. We follow the work. Sometimes this requires a very "flexible" lifestyle.

From all that wandering, I learned some valuable lessons.

1) There is a correct way to load a moving van. There is also a correct way to drive one.
2) Home is people, not places.
3) Everywhere is somewhere. Enjoy it. Your life is someone else's vacation destination.
4) Keep a book handy. They don't need to be plugged in, charged up, or properly loaded. They don't interfere with other people's conversation. You decide when to "play." There is no time limit. If you loose one it's not the end of the world.
5) There is no thing you own that you cannot replace. Some are just harder to find than others. Searching for them can be fun, too.
6) Real friends keep in touch, even if only once-in-a-while.
7) You'd be surprised how far you can stretch $5 when you really need to.
8) A plan is helpful. Trusting in the plan makes all the difference.

I also learned that it's okay to take risks. Sometimes things don't go quite the way you'd hoped. That's frustrating. Annoying. Depressing. Ultimately, though, you will survive. You'll come out on the other side with another great story to tell.

This recession has been hard on construction. Waitresses, too. There hasn't been steady work for months, so it's time to move on. Time for a fresh start in a new place. Actually, not so new. They're heading back to the North East, where they both grew up. Because there hasn't been much work, they made a tough call to try to sell the furniture instead of moving it with them. I know how hard that decision was. A lot of it hasn't sold yet. That makes it even harder. There is no fairy godmother to turn the furniture into gasoline along the way. Still, they need to go, so they'll make do with what they've got. I believe they will be fine. They always are.

My folks are some of the bravest people I know. This year they turn 50. They've been together for 20+ years now. Some folks mark these milestones with roots firmly planted, branches spread, settled in to rest and survey a familiar landscape. Not my folks. They pack up. Pick up. Move out. Don't hesitate (much). Do what it takes.

That's what I want to be like when I'm 50.

BOLD.

A woman like... her!

There's a popular song on country-radio right now called "A Woman Like You," by Lee Brice. The fella in the song is teasing his wife, describing how different his life would be if he'd never met her. He shares his fantasies about football, fishing, and fried food. Check it out on CMT.com. It's actually quite funny.

What's that got to do with Mother's Day? Well, it's the inspiration for this post.

Look at your moms. Ask yourself, how would her life be different if she weren't your mom?

I can tell you.

She wouldn't have to wake-up early on weekends if she didn't want to. She could hang around the house in her pajamas, sipping and savoring her coffee, until she decided she WANTED to go out. She could read a book. She could sit in the garden that she planted. Or in her comfy chair in the livingroom she decorated lemon-yellow even if it isn't sensible. She could put her feet up. Relax.

When she's ready, she can throw on her "walking shoes," grab her mp3 player, and go for a walk in the park. No one to bundle up. No diaper-bags. No deadlines. No-one to rush back to. She might even stop off for a manicure, massage, or yard sale on the way.  If she gets hungry, she can grab lunch. Sushi? Sure. Salad? If she wants some. Or, having enjoyed a healthy walk, she might indulge in her guilty pleasure, fast food. Why not? There's no-one to set a good example for. Eating out, it turns out, is not too expensive - if you don't have to feed the kids. 

She doesn't always eat out, though. Her fridge is full of all of her favorite things. Fruit. Veggies. Salad dressing. Seafood. Steak. Chicken. Hummus. Yogurt. Cheese. A bottle of wine. There might be some frozen cookie dough in the freezer, between the tequila and the fancy ice-cream. The fridge isn't too full, though. Fresh food tastes best. So she shops by the week. 

Cooking is fun. She has all the high-quality tools to make it easy. There are no  little fingers to protect from the good knives or to keep the glass dishes away from. She can take her time and make tasty dishes. Asparagus is a regular feature in the spring, squash in the fall. There's no-one around to complain about it.

The decorations in her house reflect her taste and style. Carefully chosen over time, there's nothing tacky in sight. If she tires of something she can replace it. The same goes for her wardrobe. Her clothes are as fit and stylish and comfortable as she can find. She doesn't have to worry about sticky-fingers and sensible fabrics. 

She can go out on school nights. If she wants to go to a play or concert, she goes. She can find hobbies and take workshops without checking anyone's dance and soccer schedules. She can go to the movies without taking out a bank loan.  

She can also take off on a whim. She's free to explore the beach, the mountains. She can hike through a fort or explore a lighthouse. She can snuba or ski, hike or hang-glide. She can stay in a cheap campground that doesn't have a pool - or she can stay in a luxury hotel. She doesn't drive with an eye on the rearview mirror.  With a little planning, she can go to Italy. To Australia. Her vacation days get used for vacations not runny noses, field trips, or conferences. She has a travel budget, because she isn't saving for birthday parties, car insurance, proms, and college. It also turns out vacations are much more affordable when you only buy one ticket, and no mouse-ears.

If she chooses to stay home, she can watch DVD's, any time, no matter what they're rated - all the way through to the end. She doesn't have to fast-forward the scary parts or mute the loud ones unless she wants to. She can stay up until 11 watching prime-time TV. Or she could go to bed at 9. 

She generally sleeps through the night. No bellyaches or coughing fits disturb her rest. No nightmare-driven dwarfs burrow into her bed in the wee-hours.

It really *is* a good life. I know, because it's mine.
But you know what? I'd trade it in a minute for sticky-fingers, do-it-myself-facials, homemade art projects, budget stay-cations, and cheap, kid-friendly food.

So, next time you talk to your mom, remember... her life could have been much different.

You made her the woman she is today.

Happy Mother's Day.

A moment in time

A while back, someone posed the following question as a warm-up to a Bible-study group I'm in: "If you could take one (round) trip on a time machine absolutely anywhen - past or future - when would you visit?"

Think about that for a minute. What would you wish?

The dozen-or-so people in my group had some great answers. One would visit a time of national tragedy as a pair of helping hands. One would visit the past with some tips on sanitation that would save countless lives. One wanted to look back a generation and try to understand her own parents better. A few wanted to peek into the future, to see how things turned out for their children and their children's children. 

So again...what would you wish?

Interestingly, only one of us chose to visit Bible-times. The Garden of Eden, to be exact.
Remember, this is a Bible study group. We're all believers. We all look eagerly toward the day when we'll be face-to-face with the glorified Christ in Heaven. But given the chance to time-travel, none of us wished to visit Him during His ministry here on Earth.

Why?
I can't speak for anyone else, but I have given a lot of thought to my own reluctance.
As usual, for me, there's not one easy answer.

There's the "good" answer. And the more real answer. They both boil down to the same key word: DOUBT.

The good answer is extracted from Jesus' own words to "doubting Thomas." Remember Thomas? He's the apostle who couldn't accept that Jesus was really back from the dead that first Easter until he had put his own fingers into the Lord's wounds. Jesus let Thomas poke away until Tom was satisfied that the man in front of him truly was the One he expected to rule. When Thomas declared "It is you!," Jesus replied, "because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed."

So that's the good answer. I believe without seeing, so I am differently blessed than those who touched, saw, and believed. I wouldn't want to loose the sweetness of that absolute faith. Each day, I rely on the Spirit of God in ways the early disciples didn't have to. It is only through God-in-Me that my faith grows, that I understand the universe, that I live with confidence that there is more to life than the "reality" that confronts me each day. That reliance draws me closer to God. I wouldn't jeopardize that for a moment.

Lovely thought, isn't it. And true. And yet... not all there is to my hesitation to step back into His path. After all, I know Jesus didn't love Thomas any less for wondering. I expect to meet him in Heaven. His story is proof, in the Bible, that Jesus understands our need to probe and question.

The more real answer is, of course, far messier and less pious.

I didn't choose to go back to Jesus's time because I was afraid that He wouldn't have time for me. That He wouldn't see me, notice me, hear me, care about me. Throughout His ministry he was surrounded by THRONGS of people. Thousands came to hear him preach. At least 3 times he had to "escape" the crowd. I wasn't willing to take the chance that I'd be just another face in that crowd. If Jesus didn't know me, didn't have time for me, couldn't see me or recognize me, I'd be lost.

I'm glad "God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believe in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." However, sometimes I need to know God cares just about ME, not about the whole world.

This spring I've spent some time re-reading the gospels. Looking at the individuals Jesus did encounter. Mary and Martha. Jairus, the official with the dying daughter. The blind man He healed with spit. Lazarus, for whom He wept. The woman at the well. The adulteress He saved from execution. Zaccheus. The Samaritan leper. The bleeding woman.

I've learned something important. Yes, Jesus did teach the crowd. Because God did send Him for the whole world. But He also made time for the individuals who sought him out. Zaccheus sat in a tree just hoping for a glimpse of the Lord passing by, and Jesus decided to come to his house for dinner. The bleeding woman snuck up on Him, so convinced of her own worthlessness that she didn't even want to ask for help or attention. He praised her for her faith. Jairus was an official at the synagogue - representing the very institutions that would have Jesus killed - yet, the He went into his house and rescued his young daughter.

So... I've learned that Jesus would have noticed me. He would have heard me, and even stopped to talk to me. He would have cared about me. I would not have been just a face in the crowd. The Spirit of God, the divine Comforter my Lord sent when He returned to Heaven, taught me that.
I've never been so glad to be wrong...and right...at the same time.


As for time-travel, maybe I'll visit doubting Thomas - after the Ascension, of course. It seems he and I might have a lot to talk about.

"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.