Before JP and I moved to Charlotte, a friend from home gave me a stained-glass hanging that says "The Lord is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9". It hangs in our kitchen as a constant reminder that even though we're in a new place, God is as much here as He was back home.
It's no big secret that this move hasn't been an easy one for us. JP and I loved Charlottesville. We loved the area - the beauty of the mountains, the culture of the town, and familiarity of our surroundings. Even more though, we loved the people - family and college friends, co-workers and our close community at Charlottesville Community Church. It was scary to think of starting over. Five months later, I still don't quite think of this as "home" - but we're getting closer. And after this weekend, I KNOW that God truly is with us wherever we go. He has shown us His presence through some amazing people, who truly were His hands and feet for us this weekend.
This weekend is perhaps the absolute worst I can remember. JP and I both got sick - sicker than either of us has been in the entirety of our marriage (6 years this June) - at the exact. same. time. We're not talking a debilitating cold, or a bit of an upset stomach. We are talking all out, full blown, crazy serious sickness. I'll spare you the grimy details, but know NOTHING stayed in my system for over 48 hrs. Know that I was on the bathroom floor by the space heater asleep because I had a terrible case of the chills, only to wake up with a vicious case of the sweats. Know that I yelled for water, but my husband couldn't make it to the bathroom to bring me anything because standing up made him get sick. Know that bowls were toted around because making it to the bathroom often didn't happen. Know that eventually, we did end up in the hospital because I was dehydrated (and that I looked in the mirror at the hospital, for the first time in hours, and asked JP "You let me come out of the house looking like that??") Yep, it was that kind of a weekend.
Had I been at home, the solution would have been simple. One phone call and a 35 minute drive, and my momma would have been at my house with everything I needed. She would have taken care of us, and Eli, and my apartment wouldn't be the train wreck it is right now because she'd have kept things in tip-top shape. And, to be fair, had it not been snowing when she found out about things Saturday, she would have been in the car and on her way (though the time would have been 4 hrs, instead of 35 min). Without family here, and in complete desperation (read, bathroom floor), I did the only thing I could think - I posted on Facebook a plea for Gatorade.
And it was answered. An amazing woman from my MOPS group responded, left her home and family, went to the store and bought us Gatorade and brought it to our place. At 11pm at night. In the snow. I consumed 32oz like it was my job, and my husband did likewise. We caught a bit of relief and went to sleep before waking up with more sickness.
The next morning, another lovely MOPS lady brought Tylenol, soup, crackers, and more Gatorade. She had texted an offer the night before, and though I only asked for Tylenol, she made sure we were set on all sorts of sickness staples.
Then, I received yet ANOTHER text from a 3rd sweet friend, offering to bring anything we needed, or to watch Eli for the afternoon. This friend has not one, or two, but THREE children of her own, and she was watching two MORE for another friend who was in the hospital having a baby. Yet she was willing to take on another (ie. #6) in order to serve my family. (Thankfully, by Sunday afternoon JP was better and could tend to taking care of me).
Still, I was really sick, and by the evening, the hospital trip was a necessity. However, someone needed to stay with Eli. We called our dear friends, and immediately, they agreed to come stay with Eli, so JP could be with me at the hospital.
Other friends messaged me, letting me know their willingness to bring things, watch Eli, or help in any way needed. Some of these offers came from people I've had the chance to get together with a few times, people that I'm growing friendships with. Other offers came from people that, quite honestly, I barely know - from people at my MOPS group that I may have had a conversation or two with. But they are drawn to show compassion and love to me, not because of our close relationship, but because they have a relationship with the One who is the source of all love and compassion. Despite feeling so terrible, it has been a long, long time since my heart has been so full. I was so deeply touched and moved by these gestures of kindness toward my family, that it has changed my outlook on being in this new place.
We may not feel completely settled and relationships might not be as deep as we'd like, but we do have community here. We may not be around family and old friends, or have a church home, but we are surrounded by the body of Christ.
We're going to be just fine here in Charlotte. "The Lord is with you (and us) wherever you (we) go". Joshua 1:9.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Our no budget Valentines Day...
I have a secret: I love Valentines Day. I have for the last 11 years. The reason I love Valentines day is mostly that I love Love LOVE my Valentine!
I remember being in middle school and the beginning of high school and feeling SO sad when the girls with "boyfriends" got flowers, candy and stuffed animals and I didn't. One year, a guy who was a friend of mine brought in Oreos and we celebrated by attempting to eat the whole pack (um, gross). I was never a very big fan of the "Hallmark holiday" until I was a 15 year old junior in high school and I had a boyfriend of my own. Finally, I got to celebrate too. And we've celebrated together every single year since. He's my forever Valentines.
I'll stop with the mushy, lest you get sick and not make it to the end of the post. Each year on this day, people feel the need to express their opinions about Valentine's Day. Facebook is full of pictures of flowers, candy and cards, along with gripes and complaints about this "fake" holiday. One of the things I've read a lot, from both singles and people in relationships, is the complaint that this is just a stupid, made up, Hallmark holiday that is all about consumerism and materialism. My friends, it DOESN'T have to be.
My day has been amazing. It started with a scrumptious breakfast in bed. The hubs whipped up some delicious scrambled eggs, complete with cheese and yummy veggies. He also toasted a whole grain english muffin, and made scrumptious cinnamon apples. I enjoyed breakfast, we spent a bit of time together, and then we were off - me to a playdate, and him to class.
However, it appears as though, in between classes, he decided to do a little cleaning in the apartment. We didn't quite get all the toys picked up in Eli's room yesterday (or the books he'd pulled down for the 15068th time), but when I came home, the room was spotless, a Valentines Day board book (that Eli had been given last year) sitting in the rocking chair. All the breakfast mess was cleaned up (we had both left it because we had places to be this morning), and the apartment looked great. Yesterday, when talking about what I'd done in the house he asked "so what chores do you have left for the week?" - vacuuming and moping the kitchen were the only two left - and he did both!! So, instead of coming home to a chore list, I fed Eli lunch, had a meal of my own, put him down for a nap, and have been able to relax ever since, enjoying neat and tidy surroundings.
The rest of our day will most likely be pretty casual. We'll enjoy a yummy meal at home (he's making steaks on the grill and I'll bake potatoes and make a salad). We won't get each other cards, but will write in our "letter notebooks" (We made notebooks and we write notes to each other in them for holidays, anniversaries, just because - that way we have all the sweet notes in one place, instead of in a million cards. The messages come 100% from the other person, not Hallmark, and we don't have cost of cards. A good idea, if I do say so myself). We won't give gifts (other than the small thing of chocolate I did buy him), but will enjoy time spent together. It's already been, and I'm sure it will continue to be a great day.
I love Valentines Day because of who I spend it with, and because we go out of our way to make each other feel loved. But not just one day a year. He makes "Saturday breakfast" almost every week with Eli in the carrier or on the floor so that I can have a relaxed morning. I go through the Chic Fil A drive through sometimes and get him a chocolate chip cookie because they are his favorite. He surprises me now and then by doing one of the "chores" that I'm typically responsible for. I pack his lunch daily and sometimes put in a sweet note. We might do a little more on February 14th, but it's not Tiffany's jewelry and an expensive meal. We tend to have low (or no) budget Valentine's Days, and I love them, so much, because of who I get to spend them with.
I remember being in middle school and the beginning of high school and feeling SO sad when the girls with "boyfriends" got flowers, candy and stuffed animals and I didn't. One year, a guy who was a friend of mine brought in Oreos and we celebrated by attempting to eat the whole pack (um, gross). I was never a very big fan of the "Hallmark holiday" until I was a 15 year old junior in high school and I had a boyfriend of my own. Finally, I got to celebrate too. And we've celebrated together every single year since. He's my forever Valentines.
I'll stop with the mushy, lest you get sick and not make it to the end of the post. Each year on this day, people feel the need to express their opinions about Valentine's Day. Facebook is full of pictures of flowers, candy and cards, along with gripes and complaints about this "fake" holiday. One of the things I've read a lot, from both singles and people in relationships, is the complaint that this is just a stupid, made up, Hallmark holiday that is all about consumerism and materialism. My friends, it DOESN'T have to be.
My day has been amazing. It started with a scrumptious breakfast in bed. The hubs whipped up some delicious scrambled eggs, complete with cheese and yummy veggies. He also toasted a whole grain english muffin, and made scrumptious cinnamon apples. I enjoyed breakfast, we spent a bit of time together, and then we were off - me to a playdate, and him to class.
However, it appears as though, in between classes, he decided to do a little cleaning in the apartment. We didn't quite get all the toys picked up in Eli's room yesterday (or the books he'd pulled down for the 15068th time), but when I came home, the room was spotless, a Valentines Day board book (that Eli had been given last year) sitting in the rocking chair. All the breakfast mess was cleaned up (we had both left it because we had places to be this morning), and the apartment looked great. Yesterday, when talking about what I'd done in the house he asked "so what chores do you have left for the week?" - vacuuming and moping the kitchen were the only two left - and he did both!! So, instead of coming home to a chore list, I fed Eli lunch, had a meal of my own, put him down for a nap, and have been able to relax ever since, enjoying neat and tidy surroundings.
The rest of our day will most likely be pretty casual. We'll enjoy a yummy meal at home (he's making steaks on the grill and I'll bake potatoes and make a salad). We won't get each other cards, but will write in our "letter notebooks" (We made notebooks and we write notes to each other in them for holidays, anniversaries, just because - that way we have all the sweet notes in one place, instead of in a million cards. The messages come 100% from the other person, not Hallmark, and we don't have cost of cards. A good idea, if I do say so myself). We won't give gifts (other than the small thing of chocolate I did buy him), but will enjoy time spent together. It's already been, and I'm sure it will continue to be a great day.
I love Valentines Day because of who I spend it with, and because we go out of our way to make each other feel loved. But not just one day a year. He makes "Saturday breakfast" almost every week with Eli in the carrier or on the floor so that I can have a relaxed morning. I go through the Chic Fil A drive through sometimes and get him a chocolate chip cookie because they are his favorite. He surprises me now and then by doing one of the "chores" that I'm typically responsible for. I pack his lunch daily and sometimes put in a sweet note. We might do a little more on February 14th, but it's not Tiffany's jewelry and an expensive meal. We tend to have low (or no) budget Valentine's Days, and I love them, so much, because of who I get to spend them with.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Not a house, but a home
When JP and I first started thinking about living somewhere other than Charlottesville, I was scared. We had prayed that God would provide for me to be able to stay at home with Eli, but my *real* prayer was "let me stay home, here, in Charlottesville, around my friends and family, in our townhouse". God was faithful - he provided JP with paid tuition and a small stipend, the house sold in 17 days, and the money that we had saved thinking we'd have to pay for school was available for living expenses. God, had answered our prayer - but not in the way I had secretly hoped. I was going to get to stay home, but not in the home we had come to know and love. We would have to move.
Once we found out we were moving to Charlotte, we began looking for housing options in the area around JP's school. Initially, we had hoped to be able to rent a house. We knew it'd have to be a smallish one, but hoped for detached walls and a place that could be "our own". However, we soon realized that we wouldn't have that option. On our graduate student/stay-at-home mom budget, a small apartment was all we could afford. So we signed a lease.
Up until we moved, and for a short time after, I was really grouchy about it. I didn't say much to JP, or to anyone else, but inside I was down. It seemed like while everyone else was making the transition from apartment, to starter home, to dream house, we were going in the opposite direction. We had owned our own place, a townhouse that we loved, and now we were renting an apartment - that we didn't love - in a place we didn't even *really* want to be.
We settled in quickly with the help of family and friends, and my husband, in his usual fashion, had every picture hung on the day after he moved in. Though the walls couldn't be painted, they were adorned with the same pictures, canvases and shelves that had graced our place at 1948 Tudor Ct. When I did our first grocery run in the new place, my dad bought me fresh flowers, which I put in a vase on our dining room table. We worked hard at making the little apartment a home.
And now, five months later, it truly HAS become a home. In fact, I sometimes feel like this is more of a home than any place we have ever lived in. It is as spacious and well decorated as our townhouse? No. Is it in a place we love as much as the one we moved from? Certainly not.
But, in this home, my son and I spend most of our days. In this place, I am less tired and weary from putting 100% of my time and energy into my job and coming home barely running on empty. In this apartment, I am much more focused on my husband and my son, giving them as much of myself as I can give. I am able to spend the time and effort on them that I simply wasn't able to do before, and I love it. Even though in many ways it has been hard, I know that I wouldn't go back if I could. Not for a second.
There are still days I get on Pinterest and see pins under "our home" where people have selected colors of flooring, paint for the walls and furniture for rooms. Sometimes, I am tempted to become jealous and long for those things myself. I do hope, one day, for a little house of our own where we can (hopefully) put down some roots. However, for now, I will enjoy this little apartment, and the time I spend with my family inside it's walls. It may not be a house, but it is our home. And I am grateful for it.
Once we found out we were moving to Charlotte, we began looking for housing options in the area around JP's school. Initially, we had hoped to be able to rent a house. We knew it'd have to be a smallish one, but hoped for detached walls and a place that could be "our own". However, we soon realized that we wouldn't have that option. On our graduate student/stay-at-home mom budget, a small apartment was all we could afford. So we signed a lease.
Up until we moved, and for a short time after, I was really grouchy about it. I didn't say much to JP, or to anyone else, but inside I was down. It seemed like while everyone else was making the transition from apartment, to starter home, to dream house, we were going in the opposite direction. We had owned our own place, a townhouse that we loved, and now we were renting an apartment - that we didn't love - in a place we didn't even *really* want to be.
We settled in quickly with the help of family and friends, and my husband, in his usual fashion, had every picture hung on the day after he moved in. Though the walls couldn't be painted, they were adorned with the same pictures, canvases and shelves that had graced our place at 1948 Tudor Ct. When I did our first grocery run in the new place, my dad bought me fresh flowers, which I put in a vase on our dining room table. We worked hard at making the little apartment a home.
And now, five months later, it truly HAS become a home. In fact, I sometimes feel like this is more of a home than any place we have ever lived in. It is as spacious and well decorated as our townhouse? No. Is it in a place we love as much as the one we moved from? Certainly not.
But, in this home, my son and I spend most of our days. In this place, I am less tired and weary from putting 100% of my time and energy into my job and coming home barely running on empty. In this apartment, I am much more focused on my husband and my son, giving them as much of myself as I can give. I am able to spend the time and effort on them that I simply wasn't able to do before, and I love it. Even though in many ways it has been hard, I know that I wouldn't go back if I could. Not for a second.
There are still days I get on Pinterest and see pins under "our home" where people have selected colors of flooring, paint for the walls and furniture for rooms. Sometimes, I am tempted to become jealous and long for those things myself. I do hope, one day, for a little house of our own where we can (hopefully) put down some roots. However, for now, I will enjoy this little apartment, and the time I spend with my family inside it's walls. It may not be a house, but it is our home. And I am grateful for it.
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