O Come, Emmanuel: the craziest holiday season yet

This is quite frankly the most joyous yet most crazy holiday season yet for us. There isn't time to possibly backtrack on everything since I last posted. So in the spirit of my dear friend J who once said, "Just give me the snapshots!" I'm going to try giving you snapshots. 

We were in the desert for a few months longer. God taught me valuable lessons from Job, of confession and honesty, and finding sanctuary, deep and safe, in Christ. 

Then within a matter of a couple weeks- 

E was offered a stellar job in Colorado.  

The trailer sold. 

Boxes were packed. 

Ticket bought. 

U-Haul reserved.  

I flew out the night before Thanksgiving and stayed with a dear friend. E drove the packed car, 2 bikes and a ladder--while towing the other car behind--2400 miles in 48 hours. We got a hotel room that night. 

Started house searching.  Saw someone moving out of a townhouse. Called and it was for rent. Perfect size for us. It has a washer and dryer. Signed lease a few days later. Moved our boxes in. Bought a bed and kitchen table. 

Had our first appointment with new midwife/OB office. God blessed us with an amazing midwife and hospital. E and I are both finally feeling at peace with our new supportive medical care and their labor and delivery practices. 

Hotdog has dropped and could arrive any day. Thankfully, tired and huge as I am, he is waiting a little bit. Dearest is sick and we are both exhausted. With midwife appointments, house hunting, job setup stuff, and moving things out of storage to our new place, this dear man has drove nearly 4000 miles in 10 days. I am so blessed to have such a dear husband. <3

The days now revolve around settling in as much as possible. Cooking meals to freeze for eating when we get home from the hospital. Washing baby clothes and preparing his room. Grandma's vintage light changing Christmas tree is twinkling in our living room. Our hospital bags are packed. 

At once I feel like we are Joseph and Mary, traveling for the census. Like Job, God restoring all that was taken from him and blessing him with double what he had before. I am still processing it all. 

As we wait for Hotdog's arrival, I told E nothing would make me laugh more than if we attend Christmas Eve service and I go into labor right after. Wouldn't that be the star to top this journey? 

Emmanuel. God has been with us. I have seen it in the most unbelievable ways. His timing has been perfect, His goodness and faithfulness neverending. He has met us when we were pining in darkness and waiting for the Light of His Coming. We are overcome with all the changes, all His goodness, all the gifts, and newness of what is to come. 

Blessed Advent and Merry Christmas to you all <3

Thin and sweet places: a long silence ended.

I haven't written in this blog for some time. The last several months have been an intense time of pondering, praying, crying, and wondering what to do next. During the long silence I started working full-time at the local library and we became pregnant.  Amidst these joys, trial after trial has hit us in the Keys. There is nothing comforting or familiar here. We don't love it here. In fact, there were days I wanted to--and perhaps did-- tell everyone how much I hated it! I am keeping the details sparse because I believe some privacy in the midst of transparency is good. Nonetheless, nothing here has won us over. In fact, the Keys seem to do their best to make us disdain this place and despair of ever leaving. 

It has been a confusion of circumstances. 

You're being a baby. You should suck it up.

You should love this place. Everyone else does.

You should feel bad about feeling bad.

You are stuck in this place forever. God will never let you leave.

If you really trusted God this wouldn't be hard for you. You would be strong instead of so weak.

These are a few of the lies the Enemy of my soul has aimed at my heart and head these last few months.

For the first time in my life I can identify with Job and the injury his friends added to his wounds uttering things like:

It's all your fault.

You need to suck it up.
You're clearly not trusting God.

God is punishing you.

Of course, this is my loose translation of the words Job's friends spoke to him. I am blessed to have family and friends who surround me with much encouragement and many prayers. But still, not everyone quite understands the circumstances we've been experiencing down here nor the context of things. I don't expect them to. They are not in this season. Besides, our suffering isn't entirely for us. It is just as much so we may comfort others down the road. It also reminds me that sometimes we are quick to forget past trials, to not weep with those who weep because a current season of comfort has lulled us into sweet security and perhaps even apathy. I am guilty of this sin myself, so many times past and present.

Rest has slowly come to my heart. I spent the last couple of weeks weeping and praying more than I ever (exacerbated further by pregnancy hormones, no doubt), and digging deep into the Psalms. It was then that I became very honest with God and honest with myself, and  that I was able to surrender in quietness and trust and find my strength in Him. It isn't until we set aside the woulds, shoulds, and coulds and are honest with Jesus that we can hear His word and receive His love for us.

I have also spent a lot of time reading Ann Voskamp and her posts on hard times. I have begun thanking God for the thin times, the hard times, the broken times. It is these times that refines us and grows us up in Christ. And in middle of the hardship, in thanking him for the suffering, I catch glimpses of goodness and beauty, of love and even softness admist the harshness. There is sweet wine filling in the thinness of the wafers and the harshness of the broken, spilled-over places.

It's my husband loving me and caring for me, doing the dishes, surprising me with sausages for dinner (I heart sausages), putting my needs before his.

Its when our baby growing inside me begins kicking when I sing to him, or moves his tiny arms in praise during Sunday's sermon and hymns.

It's the friends I've made here, patiently listening to my complaints and sorrow about living here with understanding hearts and helping hands. 

It's the friends I've got back home, praying, sending me encouraging verses and text messages, and calling me to catch-up on life. 

It's the job I work, where coworkers accommodate my pregnancy needs with kindness, and unlimited snack and restroom breaks.

It's in our families sharing their excitement for their new grandson and nephew and the fun nicknames they come up with for him. (So far we're up to Hotdog, Porker, #17 Ultimate Porker, HD, and several others.)

There are answered prayers too, prayers for encouragement during a rough week. Answers I never saw coming. I rejoice over them too.

So no, I haven't had much good to say or write about. Even writing about the hard times has been difficult. And certainly, the Keys has not been paradise for us. But we are sweetly broken and Christ is holding us close as we wait on Him for the next steps to take.

Icy Waters and New Chapters

Spring is upon us. It truly is a season full of new and change. 

The biggest change these days is I am temporarily a stay-at-home wife and no longer at the daycare. My body and health didn't allow me to stay. I was taking a prescription pain reliever almost every night to calm my aches enough to sleep. It stopped working. I panicked and then realized I needed to stop working. Living off pain relievers is not a great longterm health plan. 

Writing has not been my first instinct since moving. Largely, this is due to my natural tendency to wile the day away without any set plan. That old quote that an idle mind is the devil's playground is sometimes true. Not because I'm out thinking or doing anything shameful. Quite the opposite. My mind whirls with the enemy's lies, with anxiety and boredom. It's ironic. Here I am at home so much and yet I feel like I have less time to accomplish things than I did before. This brought about the realization that I wasn't effectively ordering my day. There is no reason to feel the victim. Grace when the day doesn't pan out, yes of course. But due diligence to set a daily routine has been beneficial, more than I thought it would be. Ann Voskamp's simple Grace Plan and Free Daily Planner have been worth more than the ten cents per sheet I paid to print them out. They have been like lifelines in my knitting: you may not need it today. But you still put one in because when you do need it, you will be grateful for it instead of ripping out 10 rows of lace and spending hours trying to figure out where you are. 

Despite all the sunshine and warmth, here I plunge into icy waters. Moving 2300 miles across the country is not easy. Somehow, I thought it would be. When a dear friend who had moved internationally several times told me to call here when the culture shock became unbearable and caused me to cry while shopping for groceries, or because I couldn't take one more local oddity,  I thought, "Me? Oh I'll be fine." Truth is, I did call her, multiple times. Denying how you feel isn't helpful. We can't force happiness. 

But we can CHOOSE JOY. 

We can CHOOSE GRATITUDE. 

We can choose to trust Him and take all our hearts' burdens to our Lord. 

Those icy waters sting, no matter how bright the sun is shining. Thankfully, Jesus rescues us from the sea and holds us close. I wrote a friend this the other day. 

....moving to Florida has been a struggle and some days I don't feel like being happy and grateful. That sounds terrible doesn't it? I don't want to be a fake, of course. And honestly, everything here isn't awful. We have had some mighty challenges with our house, necessitating renovating most of the outbuildings and interior. It's costly and frustrating. ...That aside, things are good here. I keep working on my gratitude list, enjoying the tropical flowers and new culture. I am baking some, knitting some. Some days I am very much at rest, and some days I feel overwhelmed and just so uncertain about everything. When you leave a place you are familiar with it challenges you in new, unanticipated ways. It is good, but hard. I am reminded to take it slow, pray, and just go one day at a time, not overthinking, overreacting. Calm. Rest. It is okay. God has us. This is a beautiful, grand adventure for Eric and I together. I'm grateful we are so far from family and friends. We have each other, nothing and no one else. 

Moving has been the part of the adventure I overlooked. It has been its own challenge. But God is using the discomfort to continue shaping me into His Son, and teaching me to depend more on Him. There are old areas He is at work in me, there are new things He is doing in this chapter. It's been a hard start, but the chapter isn't over. I think what's sometimes so difficult is the fear that if I start living in this new place, I'll somehow forget the old. How can that be? He has done so much good throughout my whole life, and even more it seemed the past four years that, it only shows His constant love and faithfulness for me. His love isn't just for the past. It is here for the present and the future. 

To lighten this and make it more spring-life: we may miss snow but thus far, we haven't missed shoveling it. The songbirds are all migrating north, and as they fly by they are singing beautiful songs. The plumeria trees are in bloom and smell divine. I'm knitting a little surprise project. (No, it is not a baby bootie.) Eric now has a bicycle and is very excited to begin commuting to work on it. A laundromat opened up in town! It means no more two hour commutes or using friends machines. We are beginning to make some wonderful news friends and it puts a skip in my step :)