The God who sees....

Weather report: early morning frost; high in mid 40's; cloudy turning to sunny later on....

I was supposed to be on a train yesterday. Taking the Amtrak from Minot, ND to Chicago's Union Station, then catching the suburban Metra to my hometown Barrington. Just me. Looking forward to a conference I've been waiting for for several months. Whether it was sheer hope or an inadequate realization that it would be impossible for me to leave Matt and the kids for several days, I planned on going, but painfully a few weeks ago knew it wouldn't work out with me being gone. During Matt's busy work week. During Corinne's basketball season. With Cosette homeschooling this year and the Halloween activities this weekend, not to mention Ryder's infamous Turkey Day on Saturday... :-)

Now, I know it's OK for "mom" to be gone sometimes. The house won't cave in. The kids will still eat and dad will be just fine. Many times when mom's not around the kids have a special kind of fun and great memories are born out of "just dad" time. But we just couldn't make this time work.

I was and still am bummed. It's OK. But truly a disappointment.

I was looking forward to sitting in the seats in the church where I grew up and listen to world class speakers lead us into deeper understanding of our life's journey, especially seen from God's eyes. I was looking forward to sitting with my dearest friend whom I've had since my early early teens, smiling those wordless smiles because we have journeyed for so long with one another. I was looking forward to hugging my mom and dad and good food and a heavy sleep and frankly, just time with no demands for a few days.

But back here at home, the school routine began as usual. It's getting colder faster so it takes a little while longer to get ready. Cole wanted me to drive him to school this morning because he gets extra credit when we practices his trumpet in the music room before classes start. So with buttered toast and bananas in hand, we headed out for the long drive to school. We were listening to the country radio station and Corinne was talking about tomorrow's Halloween party at school. The sun was barely rising when I dropped them off. Some young kindergarten kids were standing at the door holding it open for whomever was walking in. I rolled down the window and wished them a great day with a few "I love you's" exchanged and headed home.

As I drove east towards our sleepy little town, I was thinking about the conference and wished I could be there but was OK. It's 13 miles to our house from school and my driver's seat has often been my place of quiet. Of stillness. Of prayer.

I changed the radio to the Christian station, looking for something to fill me for the day. The lyrics came across....

"I don't need my name in lights...."
"I am precious in my Father's eyes...."

"He knows my name..."

The God who sees....

He sees me. Me. Now. On this two lane country road that I still baffle on how we got here. He is here. And He smiles upon me and this day in my life with Him. He is here. Working in and through this crazy life. He has not forgotten me. Us. His purposes.

I was thinking about this season of my life. The quiet has been both a blessing and a curse. There are parts of me that have become glaringly evident that are in need of a touch from His hand. There are many days when I feel so obscure and distant here. Away from the life I used to live and the mission I have felt I was on.

The quiet makes so much room to hear though. IF I don't fight it. IF I listen. IF I pay attention.

I immediately thought about our kids. They are the frontline love and purpose of my days. I wondered if because of love poured into them daily if it will make it easier to fully embrace the love of God. If they know, I mean really know they are loved as they are by their mom and dad they see everyday will it be easier to fully drink in the love of God whom they cannot see?

I wondered if when they are worried about the things grade school kids get worried about and we are here to listen and truly care about what's bothering them will they embrace God's word "Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you..."?

I wondered if when they are hungry and a snack or dinner's ready will they remember His words, "Do not worry about what you will eat or what you will wear... for your Heavenly Father knows you need these things"?

I  wondered if when they feel afraid of whatever and they can know we are present will they embrace His truths "Do not be afraid"... "I am with you wherever you go"?

I wondered if when we celebrate their birthdays. Their special day. Will it be easier for them to drink in the depth of truth "I am fearfully and wonderfully made". "Knit together in the secret place."?

As their mom and Matt as their dad, we really do get set the stage for them to personally and on their own discover the God who is crazy about them.

As I was driving by the c-store, I remembered His words...... "He is not so unjust as to forget the work and love you do in His name."

The God who sees. Who doesn't forget. Who meets with me in the quiet. On long country roads. Who reminds me again He is still doing His thing. Wherever He chooses. Wherever hearts are that seek Him.

I'm going to miss being in Chicago today. But there will be other times. And I'm thankful for His constant reach of love to me when I feel so far.

He is so very good.

Two sides of the proverbial coin.....

(I began this post last spring.....hits home again on this Indian summer day.....)

Weather report.... Highs in the mid 80's; chance of severe storms late... greattttttt.....:-))))


One of the blessings of the quieter life here in rural North Dakota is the ability to think, reflect, and write..... to this innately over thinker, over emote-er, and over analyzer, that blessing comes with the other side of the coin, the curse of the quiet. I find myself so often OVER thinking, OVER feeling, and OVER analyzing. Like the peeling away at an onion until all layers are gone and you have nothing left except headaches and weariness which leads back to the blessing of the quiet places - naps. :-)



I have neglected writing over the past few weeks. Or I should say, I've neglected finishing and posting about our life here in Ryder. Many reasons for it but probably the best one is that it does not demand at me. It sits here and waits for me to come and be quiet and still myself for a couple of hours. It is a new love of mine, to write. Well, actually that's not completely true. I've journaled a lot since I was young in high school. I've kept daily journals and prayer journals and journals of quotes, song lyrics, and precious words of a friend or mentor throughout my life. I've started other blogs with some success, but this one has meant a lot to me as I try to capture this crazy new life we've chosen. I believe in my soul that everyday there is something to gain and to give. I believe everyday is a day of this life God gave to us to show us something about Him and ourselves and the world we are present in. I believe that but I don't often live that, in all honesty. However, I've learned that when I sit and write and reflect, even on my worst days, there was something I was given and hopefully gave.

Writing does not demand at me like the daily responsibilities of being a mom and wife and friend. It does not demand at me like a sink full of dishes and loads of laundry so my family doesn't need to turn underwear inside out. It does not demand of me of the oh-so-long-list of things to get done. The choice to sit down and write does not demand of me like immediate needs. Writing will demand of me other things, and so often I don't sit down. It will demand of me time, honesty, and truth.....and so often I just don't want to go there. But today I will....:-)

This morning as I was washing the neglected dishes in the sink from the day before, my journey of mid life I've been traveling on for the past several months came to the forefront of my mind. I've been thinking a lot about my life and my choices and the people of my life. It's not always an easy journey of reflection for me and I shouldn't do it alone as my human nature so often leads me to the reminder of where I do not measure up. Or have messed up. Or could have done it better. Or could have been better. I wish it were not so and even though I've been blessed with treasured people, some life successes to encourage me, and undeniable truths of how good God is to me, my default restore is this nagging sense of shortcomings. I'm working on it with good people but it's real. So as I was washing dishes as the kids slept in this Saturday and Matt headed to the office, I was thinking about how so often in the experience of life, it IS our struggles, our failures, our inadequacies....our humanness is what often speaks the loudest and is most real. That the things in our lives that we MOST don't want anyone to know or do our best to cover up or make up for can be the very thing that brings the most life to ourselves and others.

Now, I'm not saying, "misery loves company" and for sure am not endorsing a defeatist mindset. What I am saying is that it's time to take off the fear of really letting ourselves and our lives be known to safe and good people and quit working so hard to try to make up for where we feel we have fallen short or when life isn't as easy or victorious as we would like to portray. It's time for me.

I was thinking through the stories of the great people of faith and there's always another side to the coin in their walk of faith with God. Noah built the ark, but also was drunk. Abraham "went without knowing" and became the father of the Jewish nation "in whom all will be blessed" but slept with his wife's maid in a moment of faithlessness to God's promise. David killed Goliath then committed adultery and gave orders for murder. Moses led the people out of Egypt and parted the Red Sea but struck the rock and never entered the promised land. Peter walked on water and cut off the Roman soldiers ear to protect Jesus and then denied Him just a few short hours later. Paul wrote 1/3 of the New Testament but suffered more greatly than any other scripture writer and died a martyr's death.

The paradoxes of our life in faith are real. Not wasted or unimportant or to be denied. In fact there's some comfort knowing that life, and life in faith is not an unending ride to glory but full of pitfalls and heartbreaks and the unplanned. I'm sure no one would disagree but here's the point I've had to admit about myself. I don't want you to know that about me. I don't want to share the pain and doubts and regrets. I don't. However, and here's the paradox, I have found in letting others into those places, I've experienced the greatest sense of love and grace and community. Plus, the transformational truth that we are not alone and were created for one another.

It's not for the faint of heart, walking in authenticity. I would rather you remember my talk at the leadership retreat that you told me you loved and not know immediately afterwards I went to my car and cried because I felt I failed and did not bring my best. I want you to be encouraged by our family's adventure of faith in our move here and not know how many times I have cried in depression or grief over all we left and see my doubts on our decision. I want you to smile at my postings of encouragement on Facebook and not see the wrestling for hope that I did that morning. I want you to read my words of real truths I came to know but not know the process of getting there that humbled me and showed my real lack of faith I carry most days. I want you to receive my heart's desire to be there and serve in anyway and not see my struggle with selfishness. But if I hide the second part of those stories, I cannot be known. I cannot know you. And community doesn't happen. And hope is not shared.

I remember celebrating with so many on the announcement of our first pregnancy only to have to a few days later stand before those same friends and share the heartbreak of our miscarriage. But it was after sharing our loss, I had some of the deepest encounters with so many who went through it, were still in grief, and for some never had spoken of the loss.

I remember being asked to speak on gentleness and kindness and goodness in a series on the fruit of the Spirit for a mom's group and instead of speaking about how we can incorporate these qualities more in our roles as moms, I shared my story of my struggles with depression after my kids were born and how I am learning how gentle and kind and good God really is. I knew it wasn't what the leaders were expecting but it was my story. I felt I had let the ladies down. But after that talk as soon as I got off stage, a woman came to me and just hugged me tight without saying a word and just cried for 10 minutes because of her silent struggle.

I remember sharing the story of the real struggle early in Matt's and my marriage and the truth of clinging to the hope that God would be faithful to us. The conversations that followed were more full of honest and hopeful encouragement than any stories of endless (and untrue) wine and roses. :-)

I can think of the blog posts I have written that were very raw that I didn't have the courage for anyone to see.

So I wondered this morning in the midst of cleaning if those admissions of my life, those things I don't want anyone to know, are more full of life than any seeming "success" story I would rather tell. The ones that make me feel better or important but leave me with a sense of disconnection, with myself, others, and God. I wondered why God chooses to use to the darker places of our lives, the challenges and the struggles more sometimes. It may seem obvious but I often miss it because I don't want the answer....

The more I try to impress you, the more you are less impressed. The more I hide me, the less can be known between us. And love is not possible absent of being known. Fear is the reason we hide. I'm afraid of what happens between us when I am before you real and known. That's the risk. The love risk. I risk not being received by you. But I also risk not being loved by you.

"Perfect love casts our fear... " the scripture writer tells us. His perfect love makes it possible. For us and between us.

It's OK. Flip that coin. Let love come.





in life is found.

New seasons, listening, and saying goodby to Superwoman......

Weather report - Highs in high 50's - low 60's; occasional rain.

It is Sunday and we have been home in our little farmhouse this afternoon. Matt continues to renovate and help me make this house feel home-y and warm. We decided for as along as we are here we want to make ourselves comfy at home and a place where we would like to come to. So there's new, brown speckled carpet throughout the first floor which is soft and hides the country earth so well. Our bathroom has a fresh coat of paint and Matt expanded our bedroom (don't ask me how) so it's become a great extra hang out place.:-). The front porch that is almost the width of the house seems to expand the living room and there's a garage now that will make this winter an entirely different experience. :-)

Yesterday it rained like I haven't seen before. Literal non stop rain from sunup to sundown. Our rural roads became soft and trenches formed from tire tracks. With all the building in the front of the house, there's no real grass but just dirt and lots of it. With the rain, the dirt has  softened and deepened with thick, clay-like mud that one could very easily lose their flip flop in. (I know this from personal experience :-). The days are noticeably shorter and the cooler weather reminds us that winter is not that far off. And it's ok. It's been a long summer with warm days and lots of activity. I have short term memory loss of winter. I don't remember feeling cold right at this moment. I do remember feeling closed in. I remember feeling stuck inside for months because the outside was too overwhelming to be in. That's what I do not welcome in the next few months. But for today? I drink in the green... :-)

This season is new and uncharted in my life. Cosette is being homeschooled for her 7th grade year; I've put my Master's program on hold; and I find myself longing to simplify. I don't know how it will all be played out in my life but I know it will have impact on how I'm energized and how I guard my heart. It's also a term that has gotten so overused. It has so often referred to organizing systems and checklists and cute little Pottery Barn spice racks in the kitchen. For me in the past, simplifying felt like stripping away every extra activity so I can manage the absolute essentials. Kids. House. Hubby. Anything else, even personally restful things and personal callings all took second chair in order to "simplify" and.....manage. I love my family but I have, truthfully, felt more like a manager than a mother at times. I felt like I got through my day, but I never felt like I fully lived that day. I felt accomplished in my to do lists and tasks, but emptier at the end of the day. The work horse mentality in me got fed but the heart was left starving. I don't think that's what it means to "simplify".

This season, I am responding to the small, quiet, constant nudges of my soul. That place that reminds me I was created for something more than just effort and endless stuff to do. It's not something I have listened to much in my life, in all honesty. I have a "not enough" voice that speaks a lot louder. It tells me that I am important, worthwhile, and dare I say, loved if I am all things to all people, accomplished, have-it-all-together. I even battle that in my life as a Christ follower. God has often been seen not as the Lover of my soul but the one keeping the treadmill set. So I respond to every need, every daily demand, stretched thin, exhausted, and yet not being able to silence the "not enough".  But you can only do that for so long. I have a longing to listen to my life better. To live, contribute, and love according to the truest sense of me. To respond to the dreams and pulls and instincts of my soul.

This season I'm choosing not to get a better calendar or time management system. I'm choosing not to figure out how to get more done in my day. This season I'm choosing to listen.

Our time here in North Dakota has been used to bring me to this new place. I can't explain why but I think part of it is because there is very little to silence out the yearning of my heart. There's not a lot going on. Not many people. Not many lures. I can hear a little clearer.

I know I'm in for a fight :-) I have said that I feel pulled in so many directions yet honestly,  I'm not pulled. I run to those places and people where I can show up, reveal my Superwoman costume and save the day. I like that role. I like how it fills me. Yet it empties me just as fast. And in the end it doesn't help those I love. They don't get stretched and they get me, emptier with less to offer. The fight to reconnect with what my life is really saying is daily and relentless. Thankfully, a Voice greater speaks as I give Him ears to hear.

"I have come so that you may have life, in all its fullness....", the Good Shepherd speaks.

"You are fearfully and wonderfully made...", the Father instills.

"Our hearts are restless until they have found their rest in You....." the ancient writer St. Augustine reminds.

It's lonely here in Ryder, ND. Maybe there's more in the loneliness than I thought. Maybe in this place where the stars are so evident in the dark sky, the listening is better in this quiet.

It's a good thing. I pray for courage to live more fully with what I hear.


May we all.........

Capturing the stories....

Weather report - Sunny, high around 40, slight breeze

As I look outside at the sun and browning fields, it reminds me that just last year at this time we had about 3 inches of snow on the ground and how thankful I am that the snow has held off for just a few more days.

I stopped blogging for a while... well, I should say I stopped finishing blog posts for a while as life has picked up and frankly didn't really feel I had that much to say in the daily life but then it hit me again..... my entire purpose of this blog was to capture the everyday of our life here in rural North Dakota. To write about the people and experiences and moments God reveals to this city girl now living in the country. I felt for a while that every time I put words to a screen it had to be an in depth devotion or story, yet isn't life captured in the everyday? Isn't there beauty in the day to day life of loving, sharing, laughing and sometimes crying? Practicing "presence" as I steal from Brother Lawrence :-) So I decided to write again... to capture.... to remember....to not hide the not-so-good things....to drink in the very good days. Life is found in it all.

So yesterday and today Cole and Corinne and I prepared for the informal winter children's clothing drive we begun after realizing that some kids around us may need a little extra to make these infamous winters a little more comfortable. I had been feeling sad for the past few days and maybe I'm just tired but either way, I wanted to do.... something. Something that would move me out of the house and into the world around me. So Cole and Corinne and I drove around posting our notices and placing boxes at drop off places and who knows..... we may receive nothing to pass on or we may be surprised and get to bless the school with things they can distribute as they find need.

I have fallen in love more and more with my kids these past few months, watching them adapt and grow and share. In the quiet and stillness of this place, we have been given the gift of one another again. Time to listen and be together. Cole tears up when he sees me sad which always surprises me as he is SO boy :-). But he's ready to make us all laugh in the next minute.

The days are getting shorter and shorter and the cold is coming each day and God is still good and still God. And that is enough. :-)

And yet He feeds even them.....

This post was originally started one especially cold morning..... :-)

This has been a long and cold winter. It's been a long time since I've been 24/7 in sleet, wind chills and snow. It's not over yet but for the most part, we have been doing just fine. However, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that cabin fever has sunk in many times as I've longed to go outside without having to darn myself with layers of outerwear.

 

In the times of the quiet amidst the blue skies and blinding white snow, I've developed a joy of the wildlife around us. Funny to say, most days the finches, pheasant, deer, and blue jays are the only ones moving around outside besides the older postman in his even older blue Chevy pickup. The wildlife are easy to spot and fun to watch. The kids and I bought a bright red schoolhouse bird feeder and we put it out on a large branch on a tree in the middle of our backyard. After we filled it with seed, we waited a couple of days to see who would literally take a bite. After the second day, it began to fill with tiny dark finches as they floated and fell and fed at the bird feeder or on the ground. Occasionally a bully squirrel or alpha blue jay would chase the finches away but they seemed to make their way back and gather for lunch at the base of the tree.

 

 

Watching these tiny pieces of creation, I was reminded of the promise of God through the words of Jesus from the Sermon on the Mount.

 

"For this reason I say to you, do not be anxious for your life as to what you shall eat or what you shall drink nor for your body, as to what you shall put on.
Is not life more than food, and the body than clothing?

 

Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, neither do they reap, not gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?"

 

These winters can be pretty intimidating. We just moved from a place where we lived the record high of 117 degrees one July 4th. Our seasons in Vegas would go from pleasant to cooler to back to pleasant to skin scorning heat. Here in our new community of North Dakota, literal seasons can be scary and true anxiety instigators. The sound of wind so strong carrying snow and cold, your only prayer is for the roof to stay intact. Fear and discouragement are often fanned in the flame of long winter seasons. The same can be said for the figurative winter seasons of our lives. Seasons of unemployment, disease, and loss. Seasons where fear and discouragement can settle in for a long winter's nap and we wonder if we will see the hope of spring and light and warmth again. Seasons by their nature are temporary, yet while living through them they can seem anything but. I have found myself here in this season of transition, loneliness, and doubt as well.

 

And yet as I remember Jesus' words from His most famous sermon, He meets me in my soul before my words are ever spoken aloud. Before the prayer request is mentioned. Before the prayer is ever written in my journal. As I stand looking out the window at the winter finches, He speaks.....

 

"Do not worry....

Look!....

Are you not worth much more than they?...."

 

God promises to provide. To feed us, both literally and figuratively. His Name is Jehovah Jireh, literally meaning, "the Lord provides." He who knows us. Made us. Fashioned us uniquely and distinctly, PROMISES to provide that which we need. When we need it. And by means we do not always anticipate or expect. I'm in that season of parenthood when I am very careful not to use the word "promise" too loosely or extensively. Promises we will go to Justice for an unnecessary but much wanted new top sometimes are broken because of life's funny (or not so funny) interruptions. My kids have memories comparative to any high tech recording device and they are able to remind me instantly and often when I "break my promises". So promise is a precious word given out very carefully in my home. But God is not me. Not us. Scripture reminds us that "God is not man." and that is a good thing! His Word is true and we can count on it. Believe in it and rest our lives and eternities on it. Promise to God is a promise. And in His very name, Jehovah Jireh, is the assurance of His promise.
 

 

As my mind was filled with all those circular thoughts this morning, as I was feeling the emotional hunger pains of these past couple of years and could feel the literal winter cold through my bedroom window, I looked around at our tiny farmhouse.... the tiny house that reunited Matt and I and the kids after almost 2 years of sporadic time together. Here. Now. Finally under the same roof in a place I would not have chosen myself  but am overwhelmingly grateful for. Then I looked out at the little red schoolhouse feeder my daughter Corinne and I hung. I thought about how every couple of days we take a scoop of the wild seed we bought and we fill the house and sprinkle it on the white snow. I wondered if we get to be used to help fill that promise of feeding. If God had given us a heart of concern for the birds and we did a small thing to help provide their sustenance. Pretty cool thing. And it led me to these new understandings....

 

As God is faithful, I thought about how God provides for us, "who are worth much more than they", in all ways, and a new appreciation of how He uses you and me and everyone to fulfill those promises of provision. How a thought or concern for another crept into my mind and heart and it lead me to move on behalf of someone. And I thought about all those times when I was anxious or fearful or in need and someone felt a concern for me or my hubby or my kids and acted. Responded. Lead both knowingly and maybe unknowingly by the very Spirit of God and was a tangible part of God's provision to me. Someone who without me making my need overtly known asked me how was my day. Prayed for and with me. Wrote a letter. Made a phone call. Wrote a check. Gave an invitation to lunch or dinner.

 

My mind flooded with how good God has been to me through my life and most recently this past year. How God has fulfilled the promise of Matthew 6 through specific people in specific ways through....

Banana bread at my door...

Handmade knitted socks...

Informal church gathering when we showed up our first day and service had been cancelled...

Halloween party invitation on my son's first day of school to help him feel he belonged...

Package of natural mood boosters to get me through the winter and a worship CD for added measure from a lifetime friend who knows me way too well...

Cards and letters and gift cards for the kids...

Snow tires from my hubby.... (I know, doesn't sound romantic, but it was :-)

Saturday night card party invitations...

Directions for long country roads...

Local serviceman who left his shop and pulled me out of the snowbank I got stuck in...

Lasagna dinner invitation where we never left the table but shared life for hours...

A sister who drove the entire 14 hours through the snow and blizzard warnings for a much needed (from me) visit over spring break (I use those words loosely) when our transmission went out and I couldn't meet her half way...

Emails and Facebook postings of love and encouragement that may have only taken a few seconds to write but were savored and received and filled this heart of mine...


And I can go on and on and on.... about the ways God has kept His promises to me through His people to meet my needs. If we are still enough. If we are honest enough in the times of felt need and pain, we probably could recall His faithfulness to us in unexpected ways. If we pause for a moment, we will recall His fulfilled promises and provision. Admitting His provision may not have come as we would have expected or wanted, but it came. That now reminds me of His ultimate fulfilled promise in sending Jesus. The unexpected Messiah. Oh, for centuries they were expecting and waiting for Him, but He came as a vulnerable baby to a young virgin mother in a blue collar family. Not in overt power and prestige. He came with love and compassion for those who were far from God and to those whom the religious right rejected and looked down on. He came to give us what we needed. Not as was expected, but He came to give us what we most needed.... Himself.

Today it made me think that He has been so very good to me. As I look at my new town of 90 people in my old farmhouse with my kids and hubby, He made good on His promise. As I prayed and asked others to pray for us in those years of Matt being gone and not sure of our next steps, rural North Dakota was not what I asked for or expected, but it worked. Right now, it works.

It also made me think how I want to be a part of His promise keeping for someone else. I need to respond when I get a thought or concern for another. I may not think much of it at the time, but it may very well be God keeping His promise to someone through me.... and really all of us.
 





Canola Fields and Birthdays....

Weather report - Sunny, highs around 82; chance of afternoon thunderstorms...

The farm fields around us are green and yellow. As you drive around here for miles and miles, it's amazing that just a few months ago they were covered in white. They are so robust with the fruit of the ground. I've heard, since being a "newbie" here, that the fields are later this year because of the late cold spring and subsequent rainfalls. But they are full and growing and alive now.

Intermittent between fields of green, (which I need to learn more about the crops that grow here), are rows and acres of bright yellow that I was told was canola. All I know is that it's beautiful and serene. Driving for miles you have the opportunity to just look and see and admire.

Yesterday, I turned 47. I truly know it's only a number but it's strange seeing that number on a page or saying it out loud. I don't feel 47, although I'm not sure what 47 is supposed to feel like :-). But 47 and the previous few birthdays have made me more reflective than I normally am. Maybe it's all the transitions this past year. Maybe it's the midlife stuff people talk about. Maybe it's the slowness and quietness of this place that gives opportunity for contemplation. Maybe it's just...me. Any which way, here I am, reflecting on this past year but really trying something new. To not over think and just relax....or really just trust.

 

I stopped writing for a while. On many days, the transitions of our family and my own heart felt so fast I couldn't slow them down enough to give pause to it all. In all honesty, many days I failed to do what I really needed to do. I needed to grab a moment and sit in the newness and let it all soak in. But what I did was fail to discipline those days and I just started responding to the needs around me. Responded to my kids. Responded to the new community we were in. Responded to the demand of organizing a home we had no history in.. Responded to the intensity of the winter. And maybe that's part of moving, but in all those urgent respondings, I often failed to move from a place of centeredness. A place of peace. A place of trust. Trust in God. The One who has faithfully held us through this entire past couple of years. From that place comes gratefulness and joy and perspective. So although it wasn't everyday, but many days especially when the days got colder and lonelier and darker, I failed to live fully. Oh, people probably wouldn't know any better, but I did. In times when the house was quiet and kids were at school and Matt at work, instead of drinking in and centering in, I usually escaped those moments in naps and reruns. Facebook postings and Candy Crush :-).

 

Amazingly enough, and it truly is amazing, the Spirit continued to call. Continued to press in on my heart and invite me to listen and pray. When I gave into those moments, I often found a struggle in the quietness. God is the perfection of love and holiness. I am drawn to Him because of His love and His undeniable faithfulness in my life, but I also fear Him  and His holiness and anticipate disappointment with my shortcomings. I know that's not theologically or biblically accurate but it's my reality. Even after years and years and years of sitting under tremendous teachings about this incomprehensible love of God for us; even after reading volumes from gifted authors about our Abba Father; even with being blessed with the most amazing friends and family who tangibly love me and show me the love of the Father, if am honest, I run from God initially until I allow His love to hunt me down and tell me the truth that my Father's first thought of me is not disappointment but... LOVE. All wrapped up in Jesus. LOVE.

This past spring, I anxiously waited for Amy Grant's new album release and her song, "Don't Try So Hard." was a voice of freedom for me. As the snow FINALLY began to melt and the hope of spring was no longer just an idea in my head, I listened to that song over and over and over again. In the quietness of my car after driving the kids 12 miles one way to school, I heard the gentle faithful whisper of God....

"Don't try so hard. Quit trying and trust again. Trust Me."

You see, one of the ways I made sense of this strange transition to this new place was I believed with everything that He had a purpose for us here. Something He wanted us to do or contribute. How I dealt in my heart with the struggles of my kids moving to a new place so different from that they knew was I believed He wanted us here for a reason. And I STILL believe that He does. But where I got it wrong was that it's not for ME to figure that purpose out. And it may not be something I think.  I've been spending my thought life trying to give reason to this move and where we are instead of just trusting in His movement in our lives. Trusting that the steps of faith have purpose. His purpose. Faith isn't faith if we can hold it all and make sense of it all in our finite minds. But I was looking for understanding in those cold frigid days as I would read about our friends in Vegas posting about 65 degree weather :-) , feeling like it was my faith duty to keep joyful when it got hard and lonely. I was looking for them instead of allowing God to REVEAL them from the seat of trust. The seat of LOVE. Or maybe not reveal purpose to me but more of Him.....

When Amy Grant's song came out, it was like a message to me. (Thank you Amy!) And in all truthfulness, IF I had continued being still and pushing through my thoughts and feelings and quit trying so hard, it may not have taken a song to remind me, but I'm thankful anyway :-)

I'm currently reading, "In the Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day". I read it during the thousands of miles we drove traveling this summer already. (Yes, I said thousands!). The crux of the book is that all the great stories of the Bible, when God took a person and did a miraculous thing through him or her, it began with an ordinary person, often not one you or I would choose, and He would lead them into an impossible or unwanted situation and all He asked from them was....... trust. Don't believe me? Think about Noah, Abraham, Daniel, David, Job, Esther, Joseph, Moses, Mary, Elizabeth, Paul..... (not in chronological order :-).Those are the stories we learned or now teach in Sunday school and to our kids. And I can think of people I know personally whom could be added to that list. Trust is the only response to our Loving God. And even now, maybe trust in God isn't just about letting Him do the impossible through us, but it's just about trust. Trust in the big and little things. Trust in the adventures and the mundane of our lives. Letting Him write our stories solidly grounded in the two words I grabbed onto this past year, trust and love.

I hope to recapture stories from this past few months and write them down. But for today, on the day after my birthday, I can say I am loved by my Father. If I spend the rest of my years on earth doing nothing more than growing in the reality of that truth and living with unabashed trust, it will be enough. If I give my life to WHATEVER He wants to do with it from that place, than I can say, it is enough.

Those are some of the things a cold white winter began to do in this heart of mine.... :-)))


 

BBQ or Baguettes: My Review of Newly Released Bread & Wine by Shauna Niequist

This past month I had the privilege of reading an advanced copy of Shauna Niequist's third book, enriching and creatively written, Bread & Wine: A Love Letter to Life around the Table with Recipes.

 

As I have followed Shauna on her blog after savoring her first book, Cold Tangerines, I enjoyed journeying with her on the process of this book's completion. I loved reading her passion of food and entertaining and her true foodie status :-). Shauna's expertise of cuisine is far more extensive than mine and I looked forward to being challenged to expand my culinary abilities with recipes of risotto, goat cheese, or prosciutto. But what I love most about Shauna is her ability to tell a story. Stories that matter. I resonate with Shauna that stories of life, love and faith matter. They matter to you and to me and to all who hear them. Honest and transparent stories draw us into community unlike anything else, for we see ourselves in one another. As we do that, and especially around the table as Shauna invites us to, we more often than not find hope, encouragement, love and connection - the very things our God has created us for. Shauna boldly and challenges us through the stories of life written in Bread & Wine to take a risk and open our lives one more time to others. To use the setting of the tables in our homes to be a place where relationships flourish.

As I read through Bread & Wine, I was immediately reminded of my first place at a table, my family's. Memories of the seven of us growing up at a round table in a kitchen with avocado colored flowers on the wall and spaghetti or meatloaf to eat.

I was then lead to remember times around the little laminate table in a tiny apartment I shared with my college roommate of 4 years. I remember sitting there with Laura in between classes, or instead of them, talking for hours about dreams and young love and God, as we dined on chicken sandwiches and soup in the Illinois cornfields of NIU.

Then I found myself immersed in family memories around tables of incredible Cuban food, the food of my childhood in a little mama y papa restaurante in Melrose Park that we dined at frequently. I don't believe I ever fully understood in those moments how much those times grounded me with my understanding of love and family.

And on and on and on to my table today that I serve and set nightly for those I love the most.

 

Shauna leads us to this primary familial place and shines a huge floodlight on it and asks us to bring it out of the mundane and into a place of great importance. To intentionally use our homes, big or small, messy or immaculate, to fundamentally love those God has given to us. And she doesn't stop there :-) Bread & Wine equips us with recipes and menus and great discussion questions to remove the excuses why we can't.

My life has been transplanted to rural North Dakota this year so my table is filled with more BBQ than baguettes and sweet tea more than wine but Shauna reminds us that that is not the point. The point not to be missed is...

 

 

"That's what this is all about. This isn't about recipes. This is about a family, a tribe, a little band of people who walk through it all together, up close and in the mess, real time and unvarnished. And it all started around a table...."

Bread & Wine, pg. 31

 

 

 

I have been hesitant to open my doors in our new home because we are in the middle of a remodel and the years of being a 1917 farmhouse reveals itself in cracking plaster and brown paneling. I have always lived in places filled with many people, family, friends and children, yet these past several months I have robbed myself of what happens around the table. One of our new friends reminded us of it as she boldly told me just the other day, "I'm there to see you guys, not your carpet." I've always known this and can give that grace to others who apologize for the condition of their home, but it's different when you choose to open your home and life and mess. Shauna, through her stories, lovingly forces us to ignore those concerns and reach for the best part, the wonder of love around the table. And you'll discover some new tastes you'll want to try to encourage you to enjoy your meals even more.

 

As you dive into Bread & Wine, drink in the stories of Emily and Home Depot safety glasses. Of kiddie pools filled with beer and soda. You will imagine the taste of breakfast cookies and see little Henry in cowboy boots and a Chicago Bears sweatshirt with his toddler belly hanging out. You will be touched to remember your stories, but also make even more as you avail your life and home and heart to others.

 

Lastly, through the wonderful writing, you'll be reminded, or discover for the first time, that God, who nourishes our body and soul, is here and He is good.

 

Give yourself a gift this spring and read Bread & Wine.

 

Released  today, April 9th.



Cosette and other random farmhouse thoughts......

For the past several weeks, I stopped writing about our life here in North Dakota. It is a wonderful thing to look at my blog again today. It is April 8th, 2013 and it is accumulating snow and freezing rain is falling. I cannot believe it. We were blessed with a few days last week of 40 weather which began the slow melt of the layers of white that had become a permanent part of our landscape since October. This morning, the sky has opened up again to remind us that Old Man Winter is not yet having his fun :-).

As I opened this page today, it felt like coming home to my thoughts, prayers and presence. I didn't realize how much just journeying through words was actually leading me through this season. I didn't realize how much this practical exercise of my heart and soul was my place of stillness and wisdom building. With all transparency, when I should have been writing more, I stopped because I was overcome with the feelings and entropy that a long cold winter can do, plus a dramatic move to a new place.

God meets me here.

Many people say when they are in nature and the beauty of creation, they never feel closer to Him. Others it's when they are serving another or in community with fellow followers of Christ, which I can relate with as well. But I've found in this season when the quietness is easily found and distractions are few, times of putting myself open raw and real before God and then on "paper", I grow and connect with the Divine and thus my own soul.

At the time when these moments at my kitchen table would have helped me maneuver through this season, I stopped coming to the table.

So today, Digging Dakota, it is good to see you again :-))))

The blog below is one I began but did not finish a few weeks ago.


(Originally written February 22, 2013, in the wee hours of a dark and cold morning outside)

We are almost 4 months into our new adventure here in rural North Dakota and I think I am just now catching my breath. We have squeezed into our tiny home and learned to bundle ourselves up in the sub zero cold. We have gotten accustomed to long car drives and shopping for weeks at a time. And the weather reports take on new meaning from the uneventful news of Las Vegas weather. :-)

 

This past week, Cole and I got hit hard with the stomach flu, along with 4 other kids from his class. While Cole seemed to bounce back quickly after getting some rest and ridding himself of everything inside of him, I however didn't fare as well. After a night of feeling horrible and truly losing my breakfast, lunch and dinner, I couldn't move and I was taken in to the emergency room to get rehydrated. Matt took over in his usual "come to my rescue" kind of way and got the kids ready for school. As I was severly dehydrated, I don't remember much about the first responders bringing me out to the ambulance except one faded image I'll always remember. I could see dimly Cosette in the hallway in tears asking, "Mom, are you ok?" "Is mom going to be OK?....." I reached for her hand and told her everything was fine and mommy just needs some help to get better. Oh, my heart.

Cosette has been created and imprinted with this tenderness that is so rare these days. She loves her dolls, animals and plenty of time alone in her imagination. So often in her little life I have felt like I was always holding a china doll. Afraid she will break if tugged at too much. Yet, she has this strong and dare I say stubborn part of herself that let's you know there is so much more beneath the surface. Cosette walks through this life at her own pace and you cannot push her, although so many times I've wanted to. I've wanted to push her to move a little quicker, get ready a little faster. Break through her fears with a little more courage. But just when I feel like I'm going to worry about her forever, which I probably will, she comes to the surface with this unexplicable boldness and strength.

We were having another painfully slow homework session not because of her inability to do the work but because she frankly wanted to do something, anything else. :-) This week she was supposed to write what her teacher called a "fractured fairytale". She was supposed to take a traditional fairy tale and put her own twist on it. Make it modern. Change the characters up a bit. Make it her own. As I was misreading her slowness in getting started as a lack of idea of how to get started, she was then actually processing through an idea. All her own. Not knowing this, I mistakenly began giving her some ideas to put down on paper and as she waiting for me to finish and in her strength told me to listen, she told me about "Little Red Writing Reporter". It was a fractured fairy tale about a modern day Little Red who was a reporter and goes to New York to see her great aunt and also to write about something great that happens to her. When she finished and turned it in, her story was one of the top three stories in the class.

I love how this girl of mine surprises me at every turn. God has me at a place of watching and waiting with her. To take a seat in the front row as one of her greatest fans and let the revealing of her wonderful self come to light. My daughter, Cosette whose name was given to her with great intentionality from my favorite story of all time, is a girl to be loved, a life to be celebrated and a story to unfold.

This day, I am so thankful she is mine.

Headlamps, Night lights and Jesus

We've been acutely aware of light, and the absence of it lately. In this new country we've found ourselves as a family, it can be and stay pretty dark. We are just about 60 miles south of the Canadian border and with that brings a later sunrise after the winter solstice, around 8:30 a.m. It also brings a much earlier sunset somewhere around 4:15 p.m.. We live in farmland, North Dakota with only a few street lights lit up around us after nightfall. We experience darkness in new ways here.

When we first arrived, the kids' rooms had nightlights in them leftover from the previous owner. I was glad because it made those rooms a little easier to settle into for the kids. Something about the glow of that little oval shaped light bulb made it easier to rest and go to sleep in peace. Each night after prayers and the endless tucking in of blankets, I am again asked to leave the hall light on.

This past Christmas, each of my kids were given headlamps to use and play with from my in laws. I'm pretty sure they were my father in law's idea as he is always finding those fun gifts I would not have thought of.  I cannot tell you what a big hit they were! Overnight, we had found ourselves with three new miners in the house :-).

There's just something about light.

Today in the beginning of the new year, I picked up my Bible after the kids took off for school. I have been off a regular reading plan of my own for a while now. I have journaled and read and been in study and sat under teaching, but my personal, one on one reading had been lacking. That's another reason why we love New Years as it recalibrates our habits that have gotten off. I didn't have a real decisive place to begin but I am always drawn to the Gospels to look at Jesus again. He tells us that if we have seen the Son, we have seen the Father. I admit in my faith life I have often gotten God so wrong. I have often seen Him smaller, grumpier, more judgemental, angrier and more disappointed in me than Scripture ever reveals. It has been a struggle of mine and so often I am resistant to open the word in case I will find that judging God. But in my lack of personal study I have also been deprived of the true God. And I have desperately needed that. More on that later :-)

I opened to the Gospel of John because I love John. It was the first book of the Bible I ever read as a youth on my own. I also love how John refers to himself as the "disciple that Jesus loved". I think that takes incredible security and confidence to boldly acknowledge and  the truth and proclaim, I am the one Jesus loves. And it made me think God would greatly delight in that confidence in us today that we would wear in our hearts and minds that proclamation. I am the one Jesus loves.

But back to the book of John. I began reading and my first feeling was guilt for not having been reading more lately and many times I would have shut the book because of that, yet something or Someone, I believe urged me on. Stay Mary. You are new. Yesterday is past. I love you. I do not love you so that you would feel guilty. Stay here with Me....

 

So I read the familiar words....

 

"In the beginning...."

"The Word was God"

"In Him was life and this life was the light of men."

 

And here's where I stopped. 

 

Side note: Often we try and tackle Bible reading like a novel. We want to get through the story but Scripture isn't like that. It itself reminds us that the word of God is "active and living, sharper than any two edged sword, piercing as far as division of sword and spirit...." What that means to me is when I read, I am not reading a book of the past. A passive group of words. The Bible is alive and able to penetrate my heart and life today. Right where I am and give me the word for today from the very Heart of God. It doesn't matter how many times I read those same words, it will always mean and speak to me in a new way. So when I read and I come to a place where I am spoken to, I stop and stay there on that verse. I do not go any further because I believe God has spoken to me that word for this day. And that's all I need. Even if it's only one verse. Even if it takes me a year to read through one book. My desire cannot just be the accomplishment of finishing a book. It must be to hear and know my God.

 

So here's where I stopped.

 

 "And the light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not comprehend it".

 

 I've always read that to mean that the darkness, the world, the things that are not of God just don't comprehend Him.  Don't understand Him. Aren't drawn to the things of God. The darkness is not drawn to Him or to light. Before I've interpreted that in my life to explain why people often don't understand my belief in God or my love for Him. But this morning on closer look, that's not what the verse means.

 

My eyes scanned over to the footnote marking of the literal translation of the word "comprehend". In the original language, it meant "overcome".

 

"And the light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it."

 

And I stopped. Darkness not overcoming the Light.

 

In this new place we have found ourselves, in all the adventures and stories; In the newness and the excitement, darkness still has found it's way here to my heart. In this new year, I have found myself flooded in tears that are unexplainable. Moments when it is difficult to intrinsically derive joy or enthusiasm the day. I can explain away all the reasons why, but the reality is the darkness is here and I am overcome by it.

 

It is in these times when I long for something Greater than daily habits to raise my spirits. More than a to do list to help me feel better. I need more to keep me getting up and pursuing my day and daily responsibilities. So when I re-read that verse I saw the truth that penetrated to my very soul. "And the Light shines IN the darkness and the darkness did not OVERCOME it." When the very parts of my soul ache and is lonely and discouraged and without joy, Jesus shines in THAT darkness. MY darkness. And He will not be overcome by it, which means as I am His, I will not be overcome by it, though at times can feel like I have been. Maybe I have been, but Jesus hasn't. It is in that moment I am again reminded how my life is in Him and when the world seems the emptiest, He is there. Overcoming the darkness that I cannot. I think we all have a place of darkness we want Jesus to overcome. Even on that darkest of afternoons on Calvary, the dark did not overcome the Light. He knows darkness. So He can enter into mine with me. And it has NOT overcome Him. For this reason I cling and I have hope.

 

As I write about our  journey to this new place, I have found many things that I have loved and embraced. But also another part of this journey that I have just found is that God is doing a new thing in me. Things I have not anticipated. Things that I did not expect. I am learning to find HIM enough and new. I am thankful for the grace to do that today. 

O Come Let Us Adore Him.....

It wasn't our best Sunday ever. In fact, it started out pretty crappy.

 

I don't really know all the reasons why I was in the low state, but there I was. We showed up at church late and tired. It took us a little while to get everyone ready in our current state of one bathroom and I only had time to throw my hair up in a loose pony tail and put on some jeans. I'm not one who likes being late anywhere but today I was just glad we made it. There have been other busy Sundays in our family when we chose to stay home instead of connecting with church and I've always regretted it. So this morning I wanted to go and no matter how and when we get there, I hoped it would make a difference.

 

Fortunately we found a parking spot right out front and as we rushed in, we could hear the voices inside singing "Go Tell It On the Mountain".  I smiled as I thought about this country church we had just connected with. I remember that song growing up and it brought good memories back. I walked up the stairs to the sanctuary feeling a little off but we were blessed by a friend who warmly greeted us at the door. We sat in the back pew and tried to shift gears quickly from our rush of the morning to the worship that was beginning. This was a morning where I would be in huge receiving mode. I just wanted to drink in the service and prayed for a change of heart from the tired and low mood I was experiencing. Christmas was harder than I anticipated this year. We had made our move and overall I've been amazed and proud of our little family how we have flowed with all the change. But this would be our first Christmas far from any family and Christmas was always a big deal at our house. The recent tragic loss of life and fears we as a nation have journeyed through also made me feel far from so much of the familial.

So there I was... doing my best to lead out in our family the joy of the season and found myself not doing a great job. Our friend who leads worship then began leading the church in "O Come All Ye Faithful". As I was mentally and emotionally trying to shift gears, we came to the chorus, "O come let us adore Him."

O come. Come. Adore Him. ADORE Him. Him. Jesus.

I grabbed my kids' hands with one hand and put my other arm over Cosette's shoulder. Time stopped as I stayed with that chorus in my heart.

O come let us adore Him.

I imagined the little baby in the manger. The reason we sing. Why we gather and give this season. Why the world changes its tune from Thanksgiving to December 25th. I am one of the reasons why He came. This morning I was painfully aware of all that I wasn't. I was acutely in tune with my weakness and struggle. Sadness and loss. Sin and brokenness. This little baby we were singing about came for all of it. For all of us. For the places in all of us that feels there has to be more. For the grief and regrets.  For this crazy, irrational, unjust world that is capable of great evil. He came.

"O come let us adore Him", the song beckons.

I felt my heart breaking and softening again because of that great truth. And I was thankful.

We have a lot of fun things planned to live these next couple of days with joy. But today I am grateful that I was seized again by the baby in the manger. Seized by the Love that sent Him. Grateful for grace and do-overs.

I wish I could write that the rest of the day was stress free and perfect but it wasn't. But that's not the point I got that morning from the Spirit of Love. This morning, God by His love met me in MY reality which changed because of THE reality that Love has come.

For unto us a Child is born.
A Son is given.
And He shall be called,
Wonderful.
Counselor.
The Mighty God.
The Everlasting Father.

The Prince of Peace.

It is for this reason I wish the world "Merry Christmas".

 

A Time for Mourning....

The sun rose again this morning. Here in rural Ryder, ND, the frost is covering everything leaving behind this white, feathery beauty admist the sunny ice blue sky.

 

The sun rose again yet the world has changed... again.

 

This afternoon we are attending the funeral of a previous co-worker of Matt's who took his life late Monday evening. He is leaving behind his wife and 2 of his kids are classmates of my children.

 

Yesterday morning the entire country went sent into shock and grief and was left speechless by the senseless slaying of 27 innocent people including 20 children. Children. I can barely write the words without my stomach turning in response to the reality.

 

Tuesday and Wednesday of this past week my kids' school was put into lock down because five juvenile detainees had assaulted a correctional officer and escaped from Bismark to somewhere in ND, later found in Fargo and Minot.

 

This all after the shooting in the Oregon mall as people were just out trying to make the most of the Christmas season.

 

And this morning I heard of a shooting at the Excalibur in Las Vegas, not 15 minutes from where we used to live as a man shot a concierge and then took his life.

 

I am a mix of emotions and responses today. I am weary of the pain and evil that has surrounded all of us. I am angry by the senseless of it all. I am deeply deeply sad. I am disgusted by the way that some are taking all of this for a platform for their own agenda gain thus clouding the opportunity for REAL discussion for REAL change for the good of this society. I am depressed by it all.

 

Yet I must get up and live today. I listened to as much as I could of the unfolding new reports out of Newtown, CT. Then the kids woke and we turned the TV to a rerun of Miracle on 34th Street. We have not yet told them about the shooting and to be honest, not sure if we will. Some may disagree but do I put a thought into their minds that isn't there right now and put an inkling of fear about going to school? I just don't think I do right now.

 

So we made breakfast together and enjoyed a lazy Saturday morning together as I held my feelings in check.

 

For so many, like my friend who is now preparing to go to her husband's funeral and 27 homes in Connecticut who woke up without a precious child or loved one there anymore today, the world has changed. Turned upside down and inside out without explanation or sense.

 

Tomorrow we must move from this place and find our next steps as communities and as a nation. Tomorrow we must respond to this mess with wisdom and action and good. Tomorrow we must go on.

 

Today we mourn.

 

One Month Later.....

I wrote this right before Thanksgiving......:-)

Weather report - Sunny with highs in the mid 40's. Mild weather throughout the Thanksgiving weekend. :-)

It's been just over a month since we jumped into our overpacked U-Haul and Yukon and headed north to our new home in Ryder, ND. As I sit here looking east throughout our living room plate glass window, I have a strange mixture of emotions and thoughts. Mostly, I have a sense of rest. I cannot believe it's only been a month since we have been there. And I cannot believe how much we have adapted and embraced our new community. More than a year ago, Matt brought us here to show us his work and we camped at the lake. I knew there was a possibility we may come and at the time it was unthinkable to me. Amazing to me what a year and a half can do in the heart and soul.

 

I've spent my life in church. First, a liturgical church in my childhood where I first learned about God, then a church plant turned mega church where I came to faith and was blessed with an incredible foundation, community and passion for the church, then moved to work at an urban transitioned church in the nation's most rapidly growing city and then a deep worshipful bible teaching church. Now God has led us to a church whose membership is more than the population of our town, filled with warm faithful families and led by a passionate couple led to North Dakota by faith. And all I can say is that it feels right for us right now.

 

Each day, a little bit more feels right and I am thankful, but strangely enough I am also fearful. I am fearful that I am changing as I don't recognize much of my old life. I am fearful that even as I enjoy the quiet of this new community, I am away in obscurity. The pace of my heart has slowed to a more balanced, kinder way and although I am thankful, I worry if I am escaping from the real demands and pressures of this world. It's very hard to explain and I haven't fully dissected it but those are the impressions of my heart right now.

 

I've committed myself to my kids' world to help them get settled and at peace about this new place we've been led to and I sit amazed at how they have gotten excited about bus rides and night searches for wild bunnies. Friendships have formed quickly. They have gone from a place of constant sunny skies and the coolest temps would run around 50 degrees to a place of snow, wind chills and long underwear and they have not skipped a beat. I'll be keeping my eyes and heart on them as these rapid changes may reveal themselves in other ways, but I'm proud of them and love them deeper and deeper each day.

So that's where we sit one month later.

Together.
Adjusting.
Welcomed.
Home.
 

 

Lessons Learned (and learning)

(Began this post on the 16th)

Weather Report - Partly Cloudy, High of 68, 20% chance of rain. (I've come to learn that most days there is a 20% chance of rain :-)

Some things I have learned in this remote place we have come to call home. Some things have been pressed upon me and some things I have stumbled across.

The sun rises around 7:45 a.m. here....
Almost an hour later than in Nevada where we just came. The kids', or I should say my girls have begun school. Cole has stomach flu just in time to not begin school so he's home with me in the quiet. I wake the girls up by 6:30 which gives us just enough time to get dressed, wash and brush hair and teeth and put something hearty in their tummies for breakfast. I've never been a morning person so I didn't like getting them up that early in the dark, but they have risen with an energy and day embracing attitude I haven't seen before. Prayerfully it will last :-)

The sun sets around 8 p.m. Still....
Even this late into Autumn. I welcome the longer days as it seems to slow the pace.

Do not go anywhere without your car charger for your phone....
Yesterday we had to make a run into Minot because of Cole's nonstop vomiting. Run is a loose word as it is 45 minutes into "town", as we call it, along two lane road through acres and acres of farmland. I only had about 1/2 of battery service left and we didn't know how long we would be. This lesson will be very necessary when the weather turns bad. (Or I will just choose to stay home :-)

Always have your gas tank filled at least 1/2 to full....
Gas stations are miles apart and there is not much recourse if you run out.

Planning is necessary....
No longer can you think just a day at a time for life's necessities. Trips into the little next town grocery are long so don't waste time and monies by not planning ahead. Truly make a list and prepare.

Slippers are wonderful. Enough said :-)....

Clothing choices are based on warmth and comfort first, style second :-)....

Mail is wonderful to send and receive....

Kids are strong, when foundations are laid well....
I do not take credit for being the only contribution to my kids' grounding. Extended family and friends. Church and school have invested well. And God has them deeper and more surely than I have prayed for. I can see the fruit of all of it now as we have moved them far away from all that they are comfortable with. They have embraced our little farmhouse choosing to find joy in the little cubbies that lead to the attic instead of seeing the dated carpet. They have already explored the nearby farm fields and rode their quads freely instead of focusing on our little TV in the family room. They have smiled and made friends at a school that only sees new kids once a year or so. They have shown a courage and joy I have hoped for.

People are vital and essential....
I've always known this but I have been tempted at low times in my life to withdraw. To not be present. But people and relationships are supreme. Not just in this rural place but whereever life leads us all. In storms, both figurative and literal, community is our survival. Laughter and love given freely. Kindnesses of an invitation to dinner or Halloween party. Picking up an item at the store or a smile on the street. Conversations that flow freely without pretense or competition. With the reality that communities can be miles apart from one another, the truth that we are reliant and dependent upon one another has become glaringly apparant and not to be dismissed.

Long car rides are good....
Living miles from school and town leaves us a lot of time in the car. Remember road trips as a kid? What did we do? We talked and played games and told stories. These are everyday moments now as we travel the long country roads to our destination. Yes, the kids get antsy at times and arguments over where someone's feet can be do occur. But we look out the window and look for pheasant or old farm houses we challenge Matt to restore. We tell stories of school happenings. Matt and I get to talk. Really talk, like when we were dating. In the distance and lack of traffic, we all are confined together relating and listening. And it is good.

Welcome the quiet....
The quiet is rich and heavy here. At another season of my life I may have found it boring or unstimulating. But quietness whether we create it or it is all around us is purposeful and necessary. We live on the edge of town and so our backyard faces the miles of farmland behind us. Very little traffic flows through here except for the school bus or the mailman who drives a small station wagon with yellow caution lights on top, Very little noise except for the elements outside or Molly, our yellow lab, barking to come inside to say she's had enough of the wind. Admist this quiet, my heart is resting. The necessary soul processes are finding room and time to sort and settle. I am finding I was not that great at daily creating this quiet place in my life in all the places I've lived. I have allowed demands and my own tendency to ignore vital callings of my soul in place of busyness and false sense of purpose to squeeze it out. Now I am here and quiet is forced upon me and I have welcomed it. I believe that God has lead me to the quiet. More on this later but I have come to embrace and see no matter where we live, this is necessary and good.


These are just the beginnings of my lessons learned from this first week in Ryder. I want to commit to this journey to see the depth and meaning and mostly the very Hand of God in our lives. That is my prayer. To have the eyes and time to drink deeply of His moving and presence.

In this most unexpected place, I want to find Him in ways I couldn't or didn't before.

I'm learning :-)

381 Corona Street

We rolled into little Ryder, North Dakota which sits in the center of miles and miles of farmland. It's fall right now so the trees are bare from losing all their leaves and it was cloudy as we drove in almost at sunset. It has a mixture of farm houses and mobile homes on little plots of land. Off to the side, I caught the glimpse of some kind of business which we will check out tomorrow. A young adolescent wrapped in a black hoodie waved to us as we drove in. You don't see that a whole lot. :-)

I saw the U-Haul turn into this grassy yard and I immediately recognized the large pines on the side of the farm house I've only seen in pictures for over 7 months now. We are home. Home for right now. Home for a few years. Home.

I parked and Cole and Corinne already wrapped from head to toe in new winter clothes we bought in Wyoming, ran with the house keys in their hands and went inside. Cosette and I looked at each other and laughed and some tears fell and we laughed as Matt came to our window. He's been here for over 2 months now, renovating, moving walls and staircases around. He's already made the transition. Home  to him hasn't been our house in Henderson for over a year as he has spent significantly more time in North Dakota than Nevada. But for us, this is new.

As we got out, Cosette shuffled through the dried fallen leaves with her crutches and walking boot and I followed behind her to the back door which leads into the kitchen. Newly nailed drywall was seen everywhere. Matt's been working. He showed me how he removed a wall and opened up the kitchen which is now more than twice it's original size. Dated decorations lined the upper edge of the wall paper and green appliances reminded us of the age of our home. It was built in 1917 and the previous owner had lived there since 1959. I'm sure my decor from our previous home shows resemblances of the late '90's as well. :-)

Matt showed us around and it is bigger than I imagine. We had our living room furniture already in place which was a nice view of our previous home. A reminder that not everything is so new. As Matt proudly toured us around, I had a flood of thoughts and emotions. Many I had to keep in check because I was acutely aware that my kids were watching me and my responses and how I responded to everything would deeply affect how they received everything as well. Cole and Corinne began their scavenger hunt around the house and delighted in the steep narrow stairs which they hope to turn into a slide someday. They braved the basement downstairs and felt the cool chill only basements in the Midwest can produce. They went out side and threw dried leaves around and some at each other having a ball and I was thankful.

Cosette hobbled around and we showed her her new room which has a little cubby that leads into a section of the attic. It is quaint and cozy.

 

We spent the next several hours moving boxes into any space that would hold them. Matt's employees came by to help unload. One of them, Tony has lived his entire life in Ryder and through his gregarious personality, he welcomed us and did his best to make us feel at ease. Tony looks like most of the men here. Baseball cap and sweatshirt. Jeans and work boots. But his friendly and I-feel-like-I've-known-you-all-my-life demeanor draws you to him immediately.

 

As we talked, he asked me if we go to church. This was not a question I would have assumed he would ask. I told him yes and we are visiting a few in the next few weeks. I asked him if he was connected anywhere and he said, "No, but I'm very open. I'm very open." We talked about where we are visiting and hoped his family would join us. That short little conversation seemed to remind me that bigger things are going on besides new homes and new jobs. We'll see where God takes us with some new friends.

 

At night, we snuggled Cole and Corinne in their room with mattresses on the floor and about 15 blankets on top of them. Matt came up for hugs and kisses good night which he has not been able to do nightly for almost 1 1/2 years. His presence and love infuse a confidence in the kids that is undeniable. I am thankful. He went into Cosette's room and did the same. When he left, Cosette teared up softly and said, "I don't know this room. I don't have any memories here." We laid together and cried a little and talked about that reality and that together we are going to make some more. That God had this  and for however long He has us here, that she will never be alone. I laid there with her until she fell asleep and carefully made the trip down the steep narrow stairs lit up only by nightlights.

 

My heart grew heavy for her and I prayed that God would do only what He can do in her heart. That she would take this adventure with us, remembering we are together and God is near. Cosette has always needed to come to things in her own time. You could never rush her but when she was ready, she would take on the world. I love that 10 year old with a love that surpasses understanding.

 

As I climbed into bed in our new room snuggled under layers of blankets, Matt laughed at me and gave me a hug. I smiled as I thought of how Cole and Corinne embraced this new tiny little home with interesting facets and their joy comforted me.

 

So we are here. For now. For who knows how long. My carpets are brown-orange. My appliances are avocado. My living room walls have brown panelling I haven't seen since my childhood home. These things I can live with. Us being apart for that long was something I couldn't. So we are here. Open and ready to see what God blesses with.

 

Feel free to write or visit although we are in air mattress mode for any visitors :-). But praying that Love reigns and Laughter fills and Grace flows. That is my prayer for 381 Corona Street, Ryder, ND 58779.

Tears at 2:30 a.m.

My feelings find words when I write. My thoughts find a center when I type them out on a blank white page.

 

I am up at 2:30 a.m. which is not that unusual. I cannot sleep throughout the night anymore. It began long before Matt began working out of town. Sometime between 1 - 4 a.m. I will find myself awake, on the couch, unable to sleep. I usually kill time by watching a taped movie or checking out my Facebook page. I don't usually do anything that will require much energy because I am looking to slowly drift back to sleep until my busy days wake me.

 

Tonight is different. Today was a very hard day in this transition. In this move. We've been so consumed with decisions and counter offers on our home and packing and sorting and planning. It's been a year and a half of waiting to see what our next step will be. Waiting to see if we will find a home to reunite us as a family and put us under the same roof. Living daily in this constant wait is like dancing with your shoe laces tied to each other. You can take a step but not too big of one. So you dance but stand still at the same time.

 

Today it was incredibly difficult to think about leaving and moving. I cannot even begin to express how hard it will be to leave my family. In the season of life my parents are in, it has even felt almost sinful to be leaving. My sister's kids are my kids' best friends. We will miss the daily conversation of when we will get to see Logan and Isabel that week.

 

I have walked through our home of more than 9 years and as much as many times I've complained about the stained carpet which I always wanted to replace with hard wood, or the walled in kitchen which I wanted to open up by tearing down the center wall, as much as I see the things I've wanted to change, I see the  home we made. Not a perfect one by any means. I've had so far my toughest motherhood tests here, often times of which I failed. Matt and I have gone through the tunnel of chaos countless times as we work through conflict and the journey of marriage. But our home has been a place where we have opened the door to friends and family. Two of my sisters and brothers have lived for significant amounts of times here. We have had numerous poolside BBQ's with close friends and family. My kids learned how to ride their bikes on the driveway in one day by their dad.

 

It was a tough day walking around our home. It is wonderfully spacious from the extra rooms to the insanely large garage. My husband who is unfairly talented redid our bathroom which took 6 months. Every cut in every piece of tile was precise and exact. Matt did so much renovation in this home. Fixed so many things. Endured patiently while I tried to pick out paint colors for bedroom which I always second guessed immediately after the walls were done, but then the colors grew on me once again.

 

In the same way I spent the day second guessing our decision to move. Even though the process has been long in the making, the reality of it which is so close now made me wonder if we are doing the right thing. Should we have waited a little longer for the market to rebound more. How do I leave my father who is in his late years and my mom who is caring for him so faithfully. Pulling the kids from their cousins and leaving the friendship of my sister. The kids have become friends with other kids. Cosette is in her final year of the only school she has ever known. So many doubts flooded my mind today and I could not turn it off.

 

Then tonight, in the middle of the night while the kids sleep and the movie plays, I imagined us staying here and Matt continue to work out of town coming home every 6-8 weeks or so and I immediately began to cry. Sob. A nose running-tears falling-Kleenex needing cry. I don't want to live like this anymore even though it means life changing and painful sacrifices. I want to see my husband walk through the door at the end of the day. I want to talk with him and share mundane stories of our days. I want to see the kids wrestle and play and Cole to follow him around while Matt fixes things or tunes up the quads. I want to see Corinne jump on him and demand a piggy back ride. I want to smell his coffee brewing in the early mornings and smell his popcorn cooking on the stove at night. I want to watch American Pickers and CBS Sunday Mornings with him. I want the chance to stand in the middle of the kitchen and hug him whenever I want while the kids pull us apart to be able to squeeze in between.

 

As painful as it is and how crazy it seems to leave this beautiful place which we have called home for so long, as difficult as it will be to pull away from the curb and our daily interaction with my family and friends, I cannot imagine another year like this one. Maybe our time away won't be forever or long. I don't know. But the tears in the wee hours today tell me and convince me again to take this step and continue the journey of being a family together.