I thought I should start writing again.
I mean, it's been 5 weeks since we pulled up root and transplanted to Portland.
Which isn't very long.
feels like a long long time.
I thought I'd wait to write until
everything was unpacked and pictures hung.
I thought I'd hold off putting down words
until we'd put down some roots
there'd be more to say.
I've planted some flowers
and rolled out a rug.
But, I miss my friends...
and so does my little girl.
I hear her pretend to call them on the phone.
Still, our kids are doing so much better having some stability...
a room of their own,
a mama who isn't carting them to the ends of San Bernardino County doing social work.
They still hate going to a church nursery...so there is that familiarity.
We live 10 minutes from my sister, Auntie, and her husband, Jon,
who Little Girl is quickly coming to adore.
She says: I want auntie. Or: Where is Jon?
What would we do if they weren't here?
I want to make friends.
I want my kids to make friends,
I want to put down roots
and find a church and a small group and go on girl's night out.
I want to know where to find things at the grocery store
and not feel like a wild dog at Costco because heaven knows why they can't make every Costco be stocked the same...seriously! It's a big giant box of a store. Why can't they all keep the salad in the same place.
I want to go home.
There it is.
I said it.
Here's our story, our struggle, our journey,
as we settle into a new place
and mourn for the old one.
Please don't think me ungrateful...
my heart and mind and limbs and these roots we are planting are only strengthened because of gratefulness.
Gratefulness is causing me to dig in deep and hard and wide.
To settle for the long haul.
Gratefulness is leading me to open my heart and my arms and my mind to the new.
Gratefulness is teaching me to hold it all,
the longing and sadness and grief and joy and provision and little hands and big eyes and the wonder and the hope and the expectation and the memories and the wishing and the sighing and the tears and the laughter and turning it all with open hands to Him who was and is and is to come.
Him: our assurance in times of uncertainty.
Him: our love when there is grief.
Him: what remains when all else changes.
Join us as we learn what it means to find a new place.