A Fresh Start

Oh friends, what a whirlwind these last few months have been. A good whirlwind, with fun and adventure, but a challenging whirlwind all the same.

We left everything we knew, from the Army greens, to our church family, to our beautiful home in the South. And moved West… to the mountains, to a new job… to a new beginning.

I’ve always loved a fresh start. I’ve loved jumping into the newness like putting on a new coat. I love embracing its feel and shape, getting used to its length and the fabric. The trimness. The smoothness. The great beauty and joy of something fresh. Yes, I love it. I love a fresh start. The possibilities… the adventures… the people… I love it.

But oh, oh I hate it too. I hate taking off the old and setting it aside. I hate saying goodbye and leaving. I hate the emotional pull to live in the past, instead of the present… to wonder and worry what is going on in the life behind me. I find I want to hold on to my safe and comfortable home, with all its familiar creaks and drips and groans; its strong friendship and warm conversation instead of plunging into this world of coldness and unfamiliarity.

And since early December, this has been my challenge.

This has been my beautiful mess.

This place we now call home is bright and lovely. The mountains beckon us, with their snowcapped beauty and unexplored wilderness. This busy little town, with new shops and new streets, it calls to me, it whispers my name. I’m filled with longing to explore, to taste and see. The new faces, the new perspectives, the new personalities… they are exciting too. I find myself wanting to jump in, converse, and soak.

But I also want to shrink and hide. At times, I’m overtaken with the newness. And instead of being wonderful, its scary. Its lonely. The mountains, the cowboy boots, and the frigid temperatures…it is different. And it is not home. I struggle to be the new person. The awkward person. The sore thumb. The one who desperately wants to be a part, but struggles to put herself out there, to be vulnerable, to let her own awkwardness show.

Its humbling. And hard.

The kids feel it too. “Mom, they ask, will we make new friends?”  “Will there be any kids there?” “Will I have anyone to invite to my birthday party?”

And so together, we dive in. Heartstrings suitably pulled, we press on, as a family with a united front. Not just for ourselves, but this time for the children also.

We join a weekly Classical Conversations group and a Wednesday evening children’s group. We enroll in Upward Basketball. We get library cards and meet the story time ladies. We go to church, Sunday School and evening prayer meetings. We bring Christmas cookies to our neighbors. We walk to the park and chat with locals. We bring dinner to Mr. Milton. We stop and talk with people at the grocery store and at Starbucks. We host meals and play dates. We push. We pull. We work.

And slowly we’re getting there.

But even still I must remember--in my quest to belong and feel part of this new place-- that this world is not my home. I am a stranger. A pilgrim. A sojourner.

And while I may long for that comfortable coziness of home… I must remember that this side of glory nothing will ever fill that need. I’ll never be home. And the reality must yet again hit me: our old home? It wasn’t home either. The home before that. Nope, not it.

Never. Never on this earth have I been home. And never will my need and desire be filled. 

But even still, I need to keep pushing, and plunging, and pressing. I need to keep serving, keep stretching, keep meeting, keep putting myself out there. But not for me. No. Not for my kids either.

But for Him.

To be His instrument. To be His messenger. To be His servant. To bring the hope of Christ, the joy of salvation, the beauty and newness of life that comes from walking in and with God alone.

That’s my purpose. And that’s the beauty of this fresh start—its a chance to share that joy and bring that hope to others.

Our move east

Like many military family's before us, we picked up, packed up, and moved for the 2nd time in less than a year. We enjoyed (almost) every minute of our 11 months in the beautiful state of Missouri. While we enjoyed the location (the gorgeous green trees, the amazing shades of autumn, the rivers, the wildlife, and yes, even the humidity) we enjoyed the people even more. God blessed us with some of the best friendships we've ever had, and for one of the first times in our lives we were able to have Army friends that were also Christian friends. I still can't get over the fact that our closest military friends (with which we shared the camaraderie and challenges of deployments, moves, and who know all those lovely Army abbreviations) were also members of our church. Wow!



But, as I said, we picked up, packed up and moved. Since Nick had some extra time off work since he completed his Masters Degree, we thought it would be the perfect time to try a DITY move. That is, a Do-IT-Yourself move.



So, as I said before, we picked up (ourselves), packed up (ourselves) and moved (ourselves) to our new duty station



It went really well. Really really well. I won't say it wasn't a lot of work, but still, it was definitely worth it, and I think we'd say we'd do it again.

The boys loved the moving truck and took turns fighting over which one of them would drive it (as though either of them would actually drive it... funny the things little boys fight over...).

It was a bit of an ordeal to drive the 26+ ft truck towing the Jeep 900+ miles to our new duty station. But that was an ordeal that Nick underwent on his own. :) Haha. All I had to do was drive 900+ miles in a minivan with 3 kids, 3 years and under. Did I mention one was a newborn?? Yes. Nick and I both had our work cut out for us.

And God blessed us and protected us every mile of the journey. First, He sent my dear sister in law Kimera to help. She arrived the day we loaded the truck and stayed with us till we arrived at our destination. What a blessing that sweet wonderful Aunt Kimmy was!! I enjoyed her fellowship, her maturity, and her babysitting skills.

God blessed us with great traveling mercies as well. Kimmy, the boys and I drove ahead of Nick (who had to maintain a lower speed limit due to the heavily loaded truck hauling a trailer) and encountered a lot of weather (tornadoes!!) on our journey. The rain poured and the wind blew like nothing I'd ever seen. I was afraid to pull off the road, because we could barely see the road, so we turned on our hazard lights and inched along. It was pretty scary. It was only afterwards when we stopped for dinner in a small town that we heard the townsfolk talking about the tornado that had passed through. Yikes!! The amazing thing is that the 20 minutes Nick was behind us on the road, removed him from the severe weather (Thank you, Lord!!)

Although, Nick encountered a near miss on a car crash himself. The roads were soaked and a pick-up truck hydroplaned right in front of Nick. The pick-up hit the guard rail going 60+ miles and hour, spun out across traffic, and thank the Lord, Nick was able to stop the heavily loaded truck in time. The accident literally happened right in front of Nick, so Nick got out to help and wait for the emergency vehicles to arrive. Thankfully it appeared no one was obviously injured. God is good.

We drove through some gorgeous country and made it safely to our new home.

We couldn't be happier with our new home. It's a roomy 4 bedroom ranch, with a spacious kitchen, beautiful deck and large backyard. Not only is our landlord kind and gracious, but we're getting the home for a real steal (we seriously think our landlord could rent the home for $300 or $400 more a month). The neighborhood is beautiful (and safe!!) with well kept yards and lovely homes all around. We are SO thankful!!