40-40-40 Challenge

Forty days from today is the first day of my 40th birthday trip. The last day of that trip is my 40th birthday (which just happens to be on the 40th day of the year). Last fall I got back into running and really enjoyed it. I even ran a PR in a 5K race (shattered a PR actually, by almost 3 minutes)! However, the excitement of that accomplishment has abandoned me...along with the warm temps and sunny evenings. I need some motivation and a reason to get excited again, so I came up with a personal 40-40-40 Challenge. 40 miles in the 40 days before my 40th birthday (trip). I'm going to reward myself with a great week away with my family. And no running at all that week. (Although statistics show that an average guest walks up to 7 miles a day while at Disneyland, so add that to the distance we'll walk to and from the hotel, and we just might hit 40 miles of walking in those 5 days!) Running friends (or non-running friends who want to become running friends), feel free to join me for any of my 40 miles. Ready, set, go!

Now THAT'S some motivation!

Observations from Uganda

in no particular order...some I may go into in more detail at a later time, others I will not. If you are wondering about something, ask me.

Bicycles and "boda bodas" (motor cycle taxis) act as pick ups. (I witnessed one loaded up with 6 long benches and another with a wooden box strapped on the back carrying at least 4 live, unhappy goats.)

Women almost always ride boda bodas side saddle...and often without holding on to anything but the bag or package on their lap.

Only the most major roads are paved.

Speed bumps are almost the only form of traffic control...they are probably as prevalent as cattle...and there are a lot of cattle in Uganda.

People don't wear deodorant.

All furniture is locally crafted, sturdy, and beautiful.

The dirt is red.

Kampala - the capitol city of 5 million - is largely without plumbing or electricity.

A bus licensed for 9 people can hold many, many more. (And remember, none of them are wearing deodorant.)

Huge, heavy loads are carried on women's heads.

Brooms, hoes, machetes, etc are used with very short handles necessitating that everyone bend over at the waist to sweep, cut grass, etc.

Everyone has neck and back pain.

People walk everywhere.

They drive on the left. If one car is passing another and a third approaches, they often fit all three across on the road.

Laundry is hung out on clothes lines...or bushes, fences, front yards, etc.

Groups of men on motorcycles are not gangs. They are boda boda drivers waiting for fares.

It's more expensive to ride a boda boda than a bus.

Toilets are rare, toilet seats rarer.

Cows (and goats and chickens) wander everywhere. Through front yards...busy streets...everywhere.

The current exchange rate is 2300 Ugandan shillings to one US dollar.

Almost everyone has cell phones. Airtime costs one Ugandan shilling per second.

Plants we have as house plants grow wild in Uganda.

Public transportation mini buses all have spiritual messages like "Jesus Saves" "Praise Allah" "God's Will" etc on front and back windows.

All major Kampala roads end up at one roundabout.

Most mannequins in dress shops are cheap plastic, fair skinned, and have hoops added around the middle to make the hips wider.

There are cell phone shops and paint stores in every little town or village.

Laundry and cooking, even at the retreat center where we stayed in Fort Portal, is done over a fire.

There is so, so much more. I've only scratched the surface. I'm forgetting so much of it already.

The music continues

Every morning before leaving for our various jobs, the group ate breakfast together followed by a few words from our group leader and a couple songs sung together as a group. The songs were simple choruses, most I had heard before, and probably not paid much attention. There is nothing like context to make something ordinary stand out in a way that it never has before. I know I listened and really heard the words more on those mornings, accompanied by one soft acoustic guitar than I had before, even at large conferences with professional light and sound and 3000+ other voices. It was truly meaningful. But when I got home it became even more meaningful. The Sunday after I arrived home, a college music group was visiting and leading songs that morning. I'm not usually a big fan of those kind of groups. They seem a little cheesy and way too in-your-face happy, especially early in the morning. They began leading music and I looked over at my husband and said, "We sang this in Africa." That happened with at least 3 songs in the first minutes of the service. I had left Africa, but it had not left me. By the time the group began Chris Tomlin's Our God is Greater, I had tears rolling down my cheeks and I had lifted my hands up in awe. Every week (with maybe one exception) for 6 weeks after I returned, that song was sung on Sunday morning. It has become my Africa song...the song that takes my heart back there.
"And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what can stand against."
In many ways, the people of Africa have a lot that is against them, but God is for them and God is with them.

"World Traveller"

One of the items I've saved to stash away in a box or book of trip mementos is a boarding stub from one of my British Air flights. Under my name, where the frequent flier number would have been (if I had been a frequently flier), was instead printed "World Traveller."

Jennifer Reisig
World Traveller

By then I was. 3 continents in 3 days. 20 hours in the air. We skimmed above Lake Victoria while I nervously glanced out the window searching for land. "No worries. I just saw shrubs," my seat-mate reassured, and moments later we were on the ground in Entebbe. Two images will forever be locked in my mind as Africa's first impression: 1) Two women with large bundles on their heads, walking along a hill-top road just beyond the airport runway fence. They seemed not to notice or care about the jumbo jet taxiing nearby. 2) An awning-covered staircase rolled up to the door of that jumbo jet, whose purpose was to lead us straight onto the tarmac, bridging the gap from one world to another.

I had arrived with few preconceived notions of what the next 13 days in Africa would bring. I was ready.

Everything a girl needs

I opened a piece of mail just now that had been laying on the counter. It was really just junk mail, so I'm not sure why I even opened it. It was from a tween magazine my daughter has received in the past through gift subscriptions. It's not a bad company, and she has enjoyed the magazine. This correspondence was an attempt to get me to renew her subscription (sorry, that's the grandparent's job if they choose to do so). One line in the letter jumped out at me as was intended. It was in bold, set apart from the other text, indented, and even used my daughter's name.

It's everything Faith needs to enjoy being a girl...
as you help prepare her for her teen years and beyond.

 Wow. I thought it took love and dedication and hard work. I thought it took teachers and friends and other caring adults. I thought it took guidance and prayer. I thought it took time and more time and even more time invested in her. But I guess all it takes is the right magazine. Thanks, American Girl, you just freed up a lot of my time...

Africa music

I called one of my friends a few days after I'd been asked to join the trip to Uganda. I told her about my opportunity and that I had no idea if I should go or not. She had no advice, no words of caution, she simply said, "I already know the first two songs I'm putting on your playlist."

Monday, 5/23/11, 5:51am local time, 35,000 feet above Africa

Music seems to have played a huge role in this trip already. I downloaded 40+ songs in preparation for the trip, Scott added more, and friends gave me Africa playlists. I received one playlist a week prior to departure, so I'd listened to it many times before leaving. In the middle of the 9 hour Dallas to London flight, I listened to the mix again and heard a line I hadn't noticed before. Straight No Chaser, covering Toto's Africa, sang, "she's coming in 12:30 flight." A quick glance at my boarding pass confirmed that we were indeed scheduled to arrive at 12:30. Then, listening to another friend's mix, I heard these amazing lyrics,
"When I arrived in my old set of clothes,
I was half a world away from home...
Darlin' do not fear what you don't really know
'cause it won't last...worries will pass,
Your troubles won't stand a chance."
I believe these are timely reminders of God's hand in every aspect of this trip, even the little things.
Another reminder happened right at the beginning of the trip early yesterday (or was it the day before? Hard to keep track of the day/time when jumping multiple time zones). Our group of 22 arrived at DIA much earlier than necessary. We learned our original flight was delayed, which would have caused a missed connection in Dallas, but instead all 22 of us were bumped together to an earlier flight to Dallas, making that a comfortable connection.
This current flight has had my nerves on edge with turbulence all night. The music of Rich Mullins and Chris Tomlin has helped, particularly the songs about following God no matter the cost. (I have been skipping any song with reference to being ready to die though...wheels not on the ground yet!)
One final thing I've noticed. My iPod doesn't usually keep a charge long, 24 hours at the most, even when off. After almost 48 hours and probably 10 hours of listening time, my battery still has half a charge.
Thank you, God, for reminders of your presence even in the little details.
After only an hour of sleep here and there, I am praying for wakefulness for today as we drive across Uganda followed by a restful night.

All consuming

2 months ago I was on my way to Africa. I have stories and pictures and blog posts trapped in journals, on hard drives and in my head. I want to get them out and share my amazing experiences, but something else has been consuming me.

There is so much else I feel like I should also be doing this summer but can't quite manage; a garden of intention left to grow weeds (both literally and figuratively).

But instead, I'm learning to parent. Remember those all consuming days after welcoming a newborn into your home? Whether the first or second or beyond, it was a time of getting to know a new person and figuring out who they are and how you fit together as a family. I feel like I'm doing that all over again as we transition into the middle school years. Our daughter is an amazing, creative, passionate person. She is strong and opinionated and moody. (Not unlike me.) We are learning how to fit together as a family again. She is more independent than she's ever been before, she's making more of her own decisions than she has before, and most days she's more moody than she's ever been before. I'm learning to be in charge without being controlling, to lighten up more on things that don't matter, and I think I'm praying more than I ever have before. And at the end of the day I'm completely drained and often emotional and still not sleeping through the night.

My mansion

I love to do projects around my home. We purchased this home, in part, because it didn't need much work, but before we even moved in I had plans to add an additional bedroom in the basement. Add to that list, plans to do a laundry room remodel / bathroom addition in the basement, master bathroom remodel, kitchen back splash tile and under cabinet lights, overhead lights in 3 rooms that don't currently have them, replacement of 80s-style bathroom lights, removal and replacement of popcorn ceiling texture on entire main floor, and I'm sure there is more I'm forgetting. That's in addition to what we've already done: replaced 2 gates and the entire front of the fence, painted multiple rooms, added framing and a door to the master bedroom (yes, it never had one), built a raised garden bed, and probably a few other things I'm forgetting.

I'm not discontent with my home. I like my home a lot, but I love to look at the design and function of something and see how I could make it better. I set a budget and a goal, watch for sales (we tiled the floor of a bathroom in our old house for under $40 using 18" tiles found at more than 80% off), and refuse to hire anyone to do the work for me (that would take away all my fun).

Scott teases me that when I get to heaven, I'll know which mansion is mine. It will be the run down one in need of repairs and ripe for all the projects I've been eager to do. People will probably glance down the golden streets, spot my mansion, and wonder what bad things I did on earth to deserve such a place. I, however, will be in heaven...well, yeah!

I've been thinking of this in context of going to Africa. I've wondered if I shouldn't be on a construction team instead of a teaching team. But there isn't a construction team going this year (they built the school last year), and I do love teaching too. Who knows, maybe I'll find a few opportunities to do some projects too while I'm there. And, if something happens and I don't come home from Africa (don't get me wrong, I fully intend to return, but I'm not in control of my fate), you'll know where to find me when you get to Heaven. Just look for the fixer-upper mansion.

 

Tiling the kitchen back splash in our old house.

Africa

I’m about to embark on a great adventure! I have drafted a detailed letter which I'll soon send out to some friends & family; I wanted to include a portion of that letter here since I've had many people asking for more details about my upcoming trip.

I will travel to Africa with a large group. The group is made up of smaller teams that will work in different areas during the day, and come together at night at a retreat center. Some of the teams are: clean water, health, sports, pastoral, and teaching. I am part of the two person teaching team.

The school where we’ll spend our days is about an hour away from the retreat center. We'll help teachers develop lesson plans, train on classroom management and setup, show them how to use stories and other methods to reinforce lessons instead of just using repetitive drills (currently their main teaching method). We will take some materials there and help them create some materials, but our main focus will be to leave the teachers with skills they can pass on to other teachers, thus helping them to be self-sufficient instead of needing to rely on outside help. While I will help with all of the above, I will also spend a lot of time subbing in the classrooms while the other team member works one-on-one with the teachers. They teach in British English, but there will still be a language barrier due to unfamiliar words and accents. Students at the school are preschool - 5th grade.

At the end of our time at the school, we will enjoy a 2 day safari before leaving Africa. One exciting aspect of the trip is that I’ll also be traveling with my dad who is on the team that will work with area pastors. On our way home, he and I will split off from the group and spent two days in England – one with a friend, and one in London.

Finally and most importantly, I ask and thank you for your prayers - for me while I go out of my comfort zone, my family who will be without me for that time, and those I will encounter while I am gone.

The Allure of Teaching

Before I had my own kids, I had classrooms full of kids.  I loved the looks on their faces when something really clicked.  I loved to explore the world with them and often got as excited as they did.  Never will I forget the day we were studying weather and had just talked about hail when a rare hail storm hit the Chicago area.  We ran out into the yard and gathered up platefuls of hail.  The kids looked at me as if I had magically caused the sky to open.  They couldn't stop talking about the circles on the hail stones, and how they were formed by tumbling over and over in the clouds before falling to the earth.  That group of energetic 5-year-olds has now graduated from high school.  Maybe one or two are pursuing a career in meteorology.  Another child that stands out in my mind is a 5-year-old color whiz.  Of course by the time kids are 5, they have usually mastered their colors, and so I always had a unit on secondary colors.  You know, blue + yellow = green, etc.  While the other kids were overlapping color paddles to see the results, this little boy wanted to know what would happen if we mixed a "new" (secondary) color with an "old" (primary) color.  I casually mentioned that you would get a tertiary color, like red + green = brown.  He spent the rest of the year at the easel mixing various colors and reporting his results.  By the end of the year, 11 other 5 year olds knew the word tertiary.  That child has most likely been driving for more than a year now; he is probably also quite an artist or graphic designer.  The excitement of reading a book or singing a song or dancing or digging in the dirt with a completely engaged group of children is without compare.

 photo courtesy jiji

This is part of the reason I chose to say yes to this opportunity to go work at a school in Africa. I have no idea what to expect. I haven't been in the formal role of "teacher" in many years. I'm feeling inadequate. Will I remember all those tricks I used to have up my sleeve? In addition to spending time in the classroom, I will help to train teachers. That makes me feel really inadequate! However, I feel certain that I'm being called to go on this trip. I have some fears and reservations. I'm starting to get very sad about leaving my family for 18 days. However, I hope to come home more excited to spend time with my own kids; more eager to teach them, and read to them, and dance with them. While it will be hard to be gone for so long, I hope a greater appreciation for my own kids is just one of the many lessons I'll discover while I'm gone.

Too tired to sleep.

I don't have it in me to write tonight, but I feel like I need to. I've been here before. I wrote about it then, so here it is. Everyone - specifically B - is OK, so don't worry.

He is looking particularly mischievous here as he tries to rip a tree out of the landscaping.

This was taken near the time of the incident below, almost four years ago.

4-1-07

Something happened today that nearly changed my life forever.  What if it had, and how will I let what did happen impact me?

We often visit my parents’ church in Colorado; when the service ends, my husband goes to get our older daughter and I pick up five-year-old Katherine first and then two-year-old Benjamin.  However, today I felt concerned about Benjamin, so when the service ended, I went straight to his classroom.  He spotted me from across the room.  Nudging another little boy out of the way, he announced, “That’s MY mom!”  I beamed as he took my hand and smiled, “You’re MY mom.”  Maybe I said something nice back.  I held Benjamin’s hand (I think - I don’t recall exactly when his hand was no longer in mine) as we stopped to pick up Katherine.  I dropped something, picked it up quickly, and then turned.  Benjamin was gone.  I called him, looking around pairs of legs for my small boy, but he was nowhere.  I called more urgently; people looked my way.  Five feet from us a door lead outside.  Hauling Katherine with me into the alley, we looked - still nothing.  Back inside I became one of those moms you see in the movies - yelling for her child who is nowhere to be seen.  People asked what he looked like.  “Plaid shirt; black jeans.  He’s two and small.  He’ll go anywhere.  He doesn’t understand.”  Tears then panic filled me.  People looked, but he wasn’t anywhere.  Someone took my daughter’s hand, “I’ll watch her.”  Maybe I said thanks.  A man said someone saw a little boy outside.  I ran out that door - my heart soared, then sank - it was one of Benjamin’s classmates standing beside his father.  Then across the parking lot I saw my son - in the arms of an angel wearing a red sweater!  Crying, I ran, swooped him up, and thanked the woman.  She hugged me and explained that she had found him talking to himself as he wandered between cars in the parking lot.  She had specifically left the building to look for my child.  I don’t even know her name and probably wouldn’t recognize her again.

As I walked with my reunited family out into that same parking lot, I envisioned the scene that could have been.  Throughout today, I’ve thought what things would be like now if this morning’s outcome had been different.  It has changed my perspective of my son and daughters, at least for today, and I hope for always.  Any moment could be their last, or mine.  I even cherished changing Benjamin’s diaper this afternoon!  Mothering is hard and tedious, but it is a gift.  A gift I could have lost with my son today.  Tragedy can separate us from a loved one in an instant.  Life on this earth is fleeting and temporary, but God gives us hope that goes beyond this life and its tragedies.

Idol

I'd planned my next blog post to be an update on Benjamin's room, but as with all home improvement projects, it's much slower going than I'd hoped. The walls have been painted, the closet organized, and the furniture rearranged. I'm waiting to put the finishing touches on a special painting request and for the arrival of curtains that aren't for the windows. Hopefully soon.

In the mean time, I'll turn my attention back to a more serious topic. (Dear Reader, By now I'm sure you don't know what to expect each time my blog pops up on your feed. That's really not so different from the real me I suppose, so I invite you to keep reading. I promise you'll learn a little more about me no matter where my topics jump. Feel free to comment - encouragement, challenges, even disagreements - I welcome the dialog.)

Idolatry. This was the title of last Sunday's sermon, part of the series "Breaking Free" which has also included such topics as Greed, Pride, and Hypocrisy (which appropriately came just days after my fender bender post). While I've been challenged by some of the other sermon topics, I really wasn't expecting to find much in Idolatry. I understand that idolatry doesn't mean bowing down before idols - I know it can, but for the typical American Christian this probably isn't much of a temptation. It's what we choose instead of God that becomes an idol. This is a concept I've heard many times in many churches. My priorities - where I spend my time and money - show my true heart. If I'm spending all my time and money on gambling instead of nurturing my family and helping others, gambling is my idol. As I said, I really didn't expect to see any problems in my life in this area. Then I heard, "Those things in your life that give you your sense of self worth or your identity, those are your idols." This was so much bigger than Pride or Greed or even Hypocrisy. I am a confident person, at times I probably come across as overly confident, even uncaring. For the most part I don't let what others think about me effect how I feel.  Sure I like people to like me, but if they don't it doesn't bother me...or so I thought. Suddenly I realized how often I do let my perception of what someone thinks of me control what I think about myself. Not strangers or acquaintances, but those close to me. It's somewhat hard for me to admit (because it sounds weak, right?) but when a friend doesn't seem to notice me, or when someone close drifts away, it affects how I think about myself. My self worth takes a hit and sometimes a big one. Not until Sunday did I really get it. I saw it as their problem not mine (there is that confidence - aka pride - rearing its head). I didn't see it as me setting up my relationships as an idol. But that is exactly what it is. When I choose to find my self worth in anything external, I'm putting more weight in what others think than what God thinks. And God thinks I'm pretty cool. In fact, he thinks I'm so amazing that he was willing to sacrifice Jesus for me. No relationship bump should ever make me think differently. I rarely take notes in church, but I wrote, "So much about me hinges on how my relationships make me feel about myself. My relationships are my idol." This realization doesn't mean I'll immediately stop feeling this way, but it does mean that I'll work harder to look to the God who dwells within me, for my sense of self worth and not leave it up to the fickleness of human feelings - mine or others.

Photo copyright PriyadarshiC.

Lesson In A Fender Bender

I was in an accident today...the first in my nearly 40 year existence. It was minor as accidents go. I nearly avoided it, but not quite. I was driving straight, the other driver coming onto the street via a curve with a yield sign. He didn't see me, so he didn't yield. I saw that he wasn't yielding so I changed lanes and got as close to the median as I could; I laid on my horn when I realized he was continuing on into my lane; I yelled in frustration as I heard the crunch. I was ticked off. No, I was angry. Our vehicle is less than three years old and we've already had two major hail claims, the last of which has yet to be fixed because the body shop has been putting us off month after month after month. This makes three major incidents. Anything like this means more inconvenience, especially since we are a single car family. I had a few choice words to say as I pulled into a parking spot nearby (don't ask my son about that, he'll probably repeat it). Honestly, I was ready to give the guy a piece of my mind. As I watched in my rear view mirror, he pulled into the parking spot behind me. I looked. I looked again. I couldn't believe it was actually someone I knew - an older gentleman whom I've interacted with briefly on a number of occasions. Instantly I felt bad. It was an accident. He hadn't seen me. All my anger melted away. I greeted him kindly. We exchanged few words (it was 18 degrees below zero), then sat in our respective vehicles to wait for the police officer to arrive and write his report. I busied myself with talking to my son and sending a few text messages. When I arrived home, I phoned the man's wife and told her they should not feel bad. It was an accident. Accidents happen. I was genuinely gracious.

Not until this afternoon did I remember how angry I had been, and how ready I had been to tell the offending driver just what I thought of him. I was hit by the hypocrisy of my attitude. Does a stranger not need my grace and kindness as much as an acquaintance? Was my anger justified because it would have been relatively anonymous? Did I only change my attitude to save face? Was my first reaction really the reaction of my heart? Gulp. How often do I show that side of myself when I don't think anyone is looking, or when it's "only" my children or family? May I see this as a fortuitous lesson to show grace and kindness to those around me always, no matter who they are.

Opportunity Knocks

For some time now, I've been praying that God will draw me and our family closer to Him. That is a desire of mine always, but at times in my life I pray more specifically along those lines. I've learned in the past that it can be a dangerous prayer to pray. It causes changes and challenges for which I am not always prepared, but through which I am always made better. As I've prayed this prayer over the past months, I've also prayed for opportunities for us as a family or individually. My girls have both had good friends move away in the past few years, so I've prayed for opportunities to make new friends to fill the gaps they feel. Faith desires to be a missionary, so I've prayed about possible opportunities for her to go to Haiti where our church takes a group on a semi-annual basis. I've prayed that Scott would be able to go with her so I'm not sending my pre-teen out of the country without a parent. I've prayed that we will be better parents and show our kids unconditional love (and God has given us MANY opportunities to practice that - and there is much more practice ahead I'm sure).

I have spent exactly ZERO time praying about going on a mission trip myself. I have never left the country although I've always assumed I'll go somewhere someday (thinking more along the lines of anniversary trip to Europe rather than a mission trip). Missions has always been something that I've been very willing to support when friends and family have an opportunity to go, but nothing I've considered for myself. Until last week.

I received a call from my dad asking if I would join a group of teachers going to Africa in late May. They will be working in Uganda and needed one more teacher to join the team - a preschool teacher (my occupation before parenthood). My first reaction when my dad called: Nice thought, it feels good to be considered, but no way!  I'm not going to leave my family for 2+ weeks to go across the globe. I'll bow out gracefully. Good, then I won't have to fly all that way. (Yes, I really think such things.) Instead of verbalizing all that, told him I'd pray about it and think about it and discuss it with Scott. So we did and I did and I discussed it with a few friends. Overwhelmingly I was left with a feeling of excitement and possibilities. Scott and I made the decision that I'll go. We have some logistics to work out yet. The kids will be out of school by the time I leave, and it's not practical for Scott to take two weeks off work. I have much fundraising to do in a very short time (most of the people on the team to Uganda have been raising funds for months and plane tickets will be purchased soon).  However, I believe that this opportunity is from God, so I know these logistics will fall into place.

As I prepare for this adventure, I know I'll have much more to share, but I'll close with Jeremiah 33:3, which says, "Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know." I'm calling to God and ready to learn all that He has in store for me through this opportunity. I'm stepping out of my comfort zone!

My dad in Uganda at the school where we'll be working.

Too Safe?

My life is comfortable and it pretty much always has been. Sure I get bent out of shape sometimes and feel like I've been wronged or life isn't fair or certain things are harder than they should be, but life is still comfortable. In the midst of the comfort it's easy to fall into patterns of relying on myself and believing that I am in control. I begin to think of my friends and family as my world and forget that I'm not called to sit here in comfort but to be out in the dirt of the world.

I'm a creative, disorganized stay at home mom of 3 kids. I've got plenty of dirt, but it's all quite safe. At this time in my life my family is - and should be - my number one ministry. However, I'm open to other opportunities for ministry as well. I enrolled in a class on the creative use of technology in ministry, and I'm considering an opportunity to volunteer in a communication position for an organization I love and highly respect. These are exciting opportunities, but they too are quite safe.

I used to be a fearful person. I had mild to moderate panic attacks and often feared I was about to die. I still fear flying, and occasionally I'll take the stairs when I can't bring myself to get on an elevator. I've learned my triggers and coping skills and how to keep myself feeling safe. I accepted that, yes, I might have a heart attack or come crashing to the earth at a speed too great for my body to endure, but I can't control that. Plus, lying awake worrying at night became so exhausting that maybe I just got too tired to keep worrying (and years of pregnancy related hormones - my big trigger - finally leveled out).

Since i know how it feels to fear, it's easy to want life to stay, and feel, and be safe. I know I'll have a greater impact on the world if I get out of my comfort zone. In my head I'm willing to step out if the opportunity arises, but when a risky opportunity presents itself, how will I respond? Will I be able to see it as a prompting from God, or will I make excuses and stay safe?

Farewell 2010

The last half of 2010 brought with it more transitions than I've experienced since the addition of new little ones into our family. Sadly - and thankfully - we are past those types of transitions, but these transitions were major ones nonetheless. We did end up in our "perfect house" even though the first time I looked at it I knew it was not the house for us. Through the experience we realized that God's path is much better (although not always smoother) than the path we would take on our own. Many turns along the path to our new home were not ones we had planned...from the exact neighborhood where we planned to live to the square footage (this was not the downsize we thought we needed, but a much needed rearrangement of an almost identical amount of space) to details with the loan to the sale of our previous home. Every turn made us realize God is in control and has a better handle on our life than we do, for which we are so grateful.
The day we officially became owners of our new home was also the first day we had all three children in elementary school. This hasn't been a huge transition for me personally, as half day kindergarten still allows me to have my sweet boy home part of each day. It has, however, been a huge transition for him. He had never expressed any reservation about a move, so it surprised us when he was the one weeping about the loss of his house. It's been heartbreaking to hold him as he cries and asks, "Why did we lose the house, Mom?" as if this was done to us instead of a choice we made - I suppose he may feel that it was done to him, and he had no choice in it. This has made every little transition difficult for him. Many days he says he is sick and can't go to school and should stay home with me instead. Last week he sobbed and told us, "I can't handle that Christmas is over. I just can't handle it." And today he told me that he isn't a good enough artist to start the art lessons he's been begging for for months. He even tried to tell me he couldn't go because he didn't put a belt on and didn't look good enough to go (he never wears a belt and I think he always looks good!). While it's difficult to watch him struggle, I don't let him stay home, I nudge him out, tell him it will be OK, and I'll be here for him. Life's transitions will continue and maybe this is his time to prepare for that.
Maybe that's what God is teaching me in the transitions. To trust Him. That my way isn't the best way. That when things seem scary or even painful, that when I'm digging in my heals because I want it the way it's been, that there is more for me out there. He's nudging me out the door into new and better things. It's OK because He's there for me no matter what happens.