A Prescription for Inscription

Last week was calendrically* rich.

I held a meeting on Wednesday, February 13th, and wanting to pay attention to the time of year, the chronology of our lives, I planned a reflection on Lent (it was in fact Ash Wednesday), tweaked my Valentine’s Day love quotes quiz, and sought a poem or reading that would allow us space for celebrating Black History Month. I love ritual and traditions and living life in the rhythms of the liturgical, secular holiday, school year, and sports season calendars.

We mark many of the seasons, days or events of the year in our family with a bit of ritual:

• During Advent/Christmas we do an Advent candle lighting and reading each evening at dinner
• Sometime around New Year’s, Drew and I go out on a date with a piece of paper and pen and write down the major happenings of our past year.
• For Valentine’s day, we write each other and our children a “love letter” or Valentine. You might not know it but Drew can create beautifully with pink construction paper. Most year, we make a nice dinner at home and eat on china as a family.
• During Lent I turn off the radio in my car and drive silently in an attempt to listen and pray.
• For birthdays, the birthday person gets to eat on the “You Are Special Today” plate, pick a sp
  

  Birthday pages

  ecial breakfast treat, and we tell what we love about that person before the meal.

• For each kid, on their birthday, I trace their hand on a piece of paper and we write their 5 favorite things at age whatever and some timely character and personality notes.
• We like to get to Colorado for Labor Day weekend and go to Lakeside for 10 cent ride ticket night. Eli rode the big wooden roller coaster as a 5 year old- no age or height limit at Lakeside- just ride with an adult if you’re little.
• Despite my small house, I love hosting a Halloween party (for no more than 6 children and for up to 15 adults). I serve chili, request everyone come in costume, and host the annual and very competitive candy corn spoon race.
  

  Melissa as a lawyer, Christine as half of double rainbow, James the construction guy and Poppy in a sombrero facing off.

• At family gatherings for Thanksgiving, Easter or Christmas, and at the Christmas party I host with Laura for our friends, I like to lead a candle lighting, sharing time- acknowledging God’s presence, God’s movement in our lives, and our current experience of the Story.
• I make cookies, fudge, toffee, cranberry pudding and stuffed french toast for the Christmas season.
• We relish the years of the Olympics.
• We go to Castaway on assignment every July….this summer will be our 5th in a row…probably not a tradition we can keep up nor one we set intentionally but one we excitedly, humbly, and gratefully fulfill.
• Drew is great at celebrating our anniversary with some connection to the traditional gift for that particular year. Last year, for #8, I got BRONZE nail polish. Way to go babe!
• When in doubt, for most any celebration or gathering, I serve Root Beer floats. The most epic occasion upon which a root beer float has been served so far would be our wedding- as the appetizer at the reception. This summer, we let our kids in on the hallowed tradition- the first pop they’d be allowed to drink. Andi ended up not being able to break the “no pop” rule and had just ice cream instead, but Elijah fully embraced the goodness and continues to tell people he’s too young to drink pop…unless he’s having a root beer float.
• We’ve started a new tradition in the past 2 years of family dance parties in the living room- disco ball optional but ever available. Eli switched it up at bit on Valentine’s night this year and wanted us to sing our own songs while dancing, solos and duets, instead of using the the iphone for music. In the comfort of our own home, we all let loose.

Today is President’s Day and I’m very tempted to find pictures of faces of presidents, glue them onto card stock and hide them around my house for Eli and Andi to find. Or perhaps I could find a way to get a mask of their favorite presidents they could wear while doing a spoon race.

I love marking the moments, paying attention to the spiritually significant or simple and silly and being with people I love. I’m grateful for the indulgence those sweet people give to my ritualistic whims!

Have a great Presidents Day everyone!

*Calendrically- a word I just made up to describe a period of multiple occurrences in one space of time.

I’ve started listening to NPR on the few kid-less car trips I take. Last Wednesday morning after Crossfit I heard an interesting bit about a new social-psychological phenomenon called “The IKEA Effect”. You can find the audio and a NPR certified summary of the piece here.

IKEA sells simple, stylish UNASSEMBLED furniture in boxes. As the consumer, you pack the box in your car, drive it home, and follow scant and mostly Swedish instructions to assemble a piece of furniture as simple as a towel rod or as complicated as a kitchen cabinet system.

Visits to IKEA stores in Seattle, Chicago and Denver have offered me enjoyable and adventurous shopping experiences with my family and have yielded treasures like brightly colored plastic bowls and plates my kids use daily, a wok (from the Swedish store for Asian dishes I make in KC), countless cute paper napkins and some picture frames- note no great assembly acquired on most items I buy. However, I’ve shopped and Drew’s has had to enter into the IKEA aftermath- assembly. We have this basket to hold baby bottle paraphernalia.

It came with no hardware so Drew was off to Lowes to find the right, random-sized screw. Perhaps our greatest achievement is the art clothes line in our kitchen. It sat unassembled for months before we tackled the project one Saturday afternoon. It’s been up for a year and I love it. Way to go us for getting it up there in just under an hour one day!

Clothesline- winter artistry!

The scientist and marketing professor in the NPR story wondered why, if IKEA products require a lot of work, labor, and effort on the part of the consumer, do people flock to IKEA?

They named their discovery “The IKEA effect.” The IKEA effect says people attach greater worth and value to something they build themselves than they do to a product built by someone else.

Most emotional science supports the notion that love for something leads to labor on that something’s behalf. The example in the story was a difficult, misbehaving, too big, too wild, up all night dog owned by a man. The man’s friend said, “Wow, because you love your dog so much, you’re willing to do a lot of work for him.” But then later wondered, if instead it was because of all the work on the dog’s behalf, that the man loved his dog.

The heart of the IKEA effect is this difference: instead of loving something so much we’re willing to work for it, sometimes it’s because we work hard for something that we fall in love with it. Usually, love leads to labor… but here , labor leads to love.

With IKEA furniture, people (myself included) think, “Since I’ve built it, it has value. I love it and find it more valuable than one assembled by a professional, even if it has flaws due to my workmanship.”  We IKEA-ers, feel proud and encouraged in our furniture building competence.

I think the IKEA effect points to some risks and some helpful realities.

There is risk in falling so in love with our own ideas, the product of our creative elbow grease, that we can become skeptical of outside ideas and  lose the ability to evaluate the actual merit of our own ideas. We become attached to the idea because we’ve put so much work into it that we miss or are unable to admit its inadequacies or flaws. Case in point, I write loooong blogs. I do this partly because I fall in love with my sentences and have a hard time editing them out! Pride in our own creations can be a slippery slope; we should celebrate a job well done but stop short of overzealous pride in underwhelming products that have just eaten up hours of our lives and should thus, count for something.

On the flip side, when I think about the reality that sometimes we come to love something because we labor for it, I get hopeful. Drew and I went to a marriage enrichment day this Saturday and were encouraged to be intentional, care-full, and diligent in the attention we pay and efforts- emotional and mental- we offer to working on our marriage. Because I love Drew and have for 10 years, I am willing to work hard at taking care of our love. However, I believe the more effort we put into our connection, knowing each other deeply and sacrificing selflessly for each other, the greater and more lasting our love will become. If the IKEA effect is true here, if we work hard for our marriage, we will cherish it, be proud of it and enjoy living with it- even if sometimes it wobbles on one side like an IKEA end table.

What product, process, relationship, or idea have we built lately that needs a merit assessment and possible toss-out? What are we working hard towards that will benefit from our loving efforts?

Footnotes:

*I dedicate this post to Drew for all his help with IKEA stuff and for the love and work he’s given me in building our marriage.

**I dedicated this post to the IKEA store coming to the Kansas City area in 2014- KC, get ready for some labor, and some love.

I must start by admitting that I frequently misspeak, often sing the wrong lyrics to popular songs, have been known to call people by the wrong name to their face for an entire day, and have misused a theological term or two during my ministerial career. These are just a few of the mishaps I commit; there are many many more and I apologize for no specific example at this time.

All that being said, I had a wonderful weekend of being out and about and overhead some other people misunderstanding the world and words around them.

Friday night:

Drew and I had a date night and found ourselves at Spin! Pizza where I could enjoy both of my dessert desires: wine and ice cream (it’s gelato technically at Spin! and it’s delicious!) We sat at the bar alone for a few minutes until a woman saddled up a couple stools down from us. When the bartender asked for her order she started out simply:

Woman: “I’ll have a small pizza and a drink please.”

Bartender: “What kind of crust?”

Woman: “I’d like the gluten free and whole wheat crust”

Bartender:  “Um, we cannot do both of those. You have to choose either gluten free or whole wheat.”

Woman: “Oh. Gluten free then.”

And on she went to drink a glass of wine, sort through her wallet receipts and then take her pizza to-go. We were left to think that instead of suffering from Celiac disease, this woman was trying to make a healthy choice and the menu became just a little too confusing. Unfortunately, she paid an extra $3 for that gluten free crust!

Saturday afternoon:

I took some personal time to work and read away from the house. I also had couple things on my Target list (and literally, this time, I only bought those 2 things!!!) so I ended up at the Target Starbucks. The room was pretty empty and quiet and the coffee hot. I was sitting working on my computer around the corner from the ordering counter when I overheard this interaction:

Man: “I’d like a cup of fresh brewed coffee please.”

Barista: “Ok  which roast? We have Pike’s Place, our Blonde roast which packs the most caffeine for your buck today, or the dark roast Sumatra.”

Man: “Just a cup of  fresh brewed coffee please.”

Barista: “Yes sir. They are all fresh brewed…I just need to know what type you’d like.”

Man: “I’d like fresh brewed.”

Barista: “Yes sir, these are all fresh brewed. They are a little different type of brew. “(She lists the three types again)

Man: “They are all fresh brewed?”

Barista: “Yes”

Man: “Ok, the last one you said then.”

The barista then boggled his mind with another couple of questions about whether or not he wanted room for cream and told him about filling out a survey from his receipt to win a Target gift card. He must have been so tired from the interaction that the dark, bold cup of coffee he ordered was going to be exactly what he never knew he needed!

Moments later on Saturday- still at the Target Starbucks:

I heard a racket and glanced over my shoulder to see a coat-clad, multi-generation family with a cart and Target bags settling into a 4-top table. They determined who would sit at the table and who would get the popcorn and drinks. I went dutifully back to my work but, as went the weekend, my ears absorbed yet another conversation around me.

It went something like this:

Grandma: “What about that pink Aerosmith sweatshirt?”

Teenage girl: “I can’t wear that one anymore.”

Gma: “Oh. Well, didn’t you have a blue and green Aerosmith sweatshirt too?”

At this point I’m thinking, “Wow, this family really likes Aerosmith! Neither the girl or grandma are really Aerosmith-aged fans but hey…

Teenage girl: “I still have it.”

Gma: “Good. Seems like I’ve bought so many of those shirts for you all.”

Teenage girl: “Yea. And its Aeropostle, Grandma.”

Oh!!! It made so much more sense then! Aeropostle is a clothing store for young people with brightly colored sweatshirts with the logo spread all across the front of each one. Maybe Grandma  is a bonafide Aerosmith fan and just got the two mixed up!

5 minutes later, same place, same family:

Gma: “Do you ever wear that watch I gave you?”

Teenage girl: “I can’t. The time on it is always an hour ahead.”

Gma: “Well, that’s easy. You can just reset the time!”

Teenage girl: “Umph.”

My take: The girl needs to move to Arizona where they don’t celebrate this pesky daylight savings stuff and so she escapes the burden of always wearing what her grandma gives her!

Just thought I’d share some giggle worthy stories from my weekend!

I was overcome with awe on Saturday at the capacity my body has to give of itself for the purpose of sustaining life for others. I was laying on a bed at the Community Blood Center in Gladstone giving a pint of whole blood cells. Far from my first blood donating rodeo, still this time I couldn’t help but be taken aback. I mean this in the most humble of ways, my body is a machine!

I am so grateful that something so freely given to me can be siphoned off to be shared with others. Without knowing the full science behind blood sharing (my medical friends are cringing…), I know I can give some blood away and go on with my day relatively unaffected. My body will make more to replace the slight depletion.

Drew and I believe giving blood is a good thing. It’s easy enough for us psychically and schedule-wise that we seek to be committed to regularly giving. I am less regular and inspired and held accountable by Drew’s steady commitment to giving every 8 weeks. The guy has his 5 gallon pin! It takes intentionality to make and keep the appointment, to drink water before and plan to ease back into workouts afterwards. When we show up however, our bodies take over and we simply sit/lay and give a little bit of what we have been freely given ourselves.

Before giving blood Saturday, I had fed Oakley 3 times. Once again, my body was producing a life sustaining force. By a completely natural process, one I had no hand in creating and have very little part in keeping up, I can feed my baby. In the minutes after Oakley was born, my body created the perfect nourishment for him. I feel very fortunate that breastfeeding works for me and Oaks and do not take for granted that sometimes the process is impossible or impractical for people who love and care for their babies with the same amount of sacrifice and intentionality with which I feed Oakley. I simply celebrate once again the presence of my body’s natural gifts that I can offer.

Intentionality and discipline is a theme of the sermon series at Jacob’s Well this season. Habits are mostly thoughtless, subconscious, repeated actions that shape a lot of our lives. Discipline, on the other hand, requires effort, planning, intentionality, and sacrifice. When we become aware of what we hold, what is innately bestowed upon us, we must take the next step and intentionally spend it.

I think of all the other things I freely have (to breastmilk and blood I can add: time, love, my undivided attention, energy, memory, a voice for speaking, and more importantly, ears for listening) and how I often unintentionally let them eek out, or sometimes hold them inside without sharing at all.

What do we hold inside and how might it freely but intentionally flow out from us? What has been given to you and how will you, should you, can you, share it?

The front of St Peter’s Basilica- the oldest and longest running house of worship in America! Downtown St. Augustine.

Today, I’m back from being out of town for a Young Life work assignment in Florida. I had a the great pivilege of serving as a TA for the Gospel’s seminary class taught to second and third year staff people by Mark Strauss, seminary professor from Bethel Seminary in San Diego, as well as leading a seminar on Ordering our Time and Life to first year staff people. I was impressed with the thoughtful, humble, and transparent leadership by some of the biggest leaders in the mission. I learned so much by sitting and listening- keeping my mouth shut for once!- and enjoying the lessons on leadership, decision making, paying attention and leading with care. I was most excited about working alongside and learning from my good friend Ray Donatucci, and being with my Gateway Region staff peers for a whole week! The memories made, songs sung, laughs heckled, and conversations shared, built into me deeper things of the Spirit and more love for Jesus.

My staff friends at the Ponce de Leon fort in St. Augustine

Sending a thumbs up back to sick Andi-Girl…in great care thanks to Daddy and GG

Now, Today is Transition day. I’m taking down Christmas around and outside our house, and thinking back to take-aways from being at Winter Training. So far, I’m holding up ok.

To add to the trauma possibilities, I ook Oaks to the doctor for his 15 month old check up which included 2 shots. Instead of nursing him for post-stick comfort, today I offered him Teddy Grahams. We stopped nursing fully when I left last week. Being back with him today and not connecting in that way leaves an ache. I know it’s time and see him thriving but feel the finality of something so precious and so “baby” ending, as a loss. I feel like the luckiest to have sat 4-8 times a day in quiet and tender moments with Oakley this whole past year. I will treasure the times with all my kids in that rocking chair- sustenance and snuggling, calories and comfort- a most amazing opportunity for all 4 of us!

Some Take-Aways from Winter Training:

1. Young Life has about 40,000 volunteers working in direct ministry to kids and about 4,500 staff people. Staff are essential in the recruiting, training, and encouraging of volunteers. Without capable and intentional YL staff people, we wouldn’t have these volunteers changing the lives of so many adolescents.
2. Ministry is much more subtle than we first realize.- Ray
3. Galatians 5:5-6 says, “But we who live by the Spirit eagerly wait to receive by faith the righteousness God has promised to us.  For when we place our faith in Christ Jesus, there is no benefit in being circumcised or being uncircumcised. What is important is faith expressing itself in love.”   A passionate reminder by Chap Clark that God loves us and wants us to TRUST God and that great love. He said lots and something along the lines of, “The gospel is not sin management. The goal of spiritual disciplines (like circumcision in Galatia, or prayer and Bible studies for us) is not to increase our righteousness but to increase our trust in what we already have, for free, in Jesus.” I do nothing and yet Jesus calls me His.
4. This year, 2014, for me personally I want to focus on:

• Not keeping score
• Entering in- staying in the present with people or a task.
• Saying much less
• Believing the best

Last week was a gift. I’m very thankful for the invitation from the Training Department and the preparation of the Spirit, for my time in Florida. I’ve returned filled up. I’m back to the present- ecstatic to be home with my family, grateful for Michelle, Gayle, my mom, and Drew for their help in loving and caring for the kids while I was gone, and enjoying the last lights of Christmas around my house.

Gateway Staff Gang

Lots of people whine about winter. This morning, I’ll intentionally join their ranks and offer my list of winter ills: cold weather, dead grass, the dicey dance of needing to wear a coat to get to the car but then being too hot with the defrost on to be able to wear my coat inthe car, filthy cars that I wipe my black clothes on as I walk past in the narrow garage, the lack of outdoor activities/entertainment options for oneself and ones children (no swimming! no parks!), events being cancelled because of snow or the threat of snow…the list could go negatively on and on.

Drew and Oakley in matching grey/brown sweaters. Oakley enjoyed the cameraderie...he really did.

I conquered a winter woe this weekend and took down the Christmas decorations throughout our house. It was all the agony I thought it was going to be: lots of work and emotionally heart wrenching. I loved the Christmas tree light in the morning (but probably not as much as Andi did) and the soft glow of the window garland lights downstairs every evening. (Speaking of downstairs- in winter, our downstairs level is about 20 degrees colder than upstairs and drafty- you must don a blanket atop a sweatshirt just to go downstairs at our house!). I loved drinking out of Christmas coffee mugs and staring at Christmas crafts my kids have made hanging in the kitchen. Taking it all down marks the end of a great season, a special set-apart time of year where I’ve been a bit more intentional on making memories, marking moments, baking deliciousness, seeking Christ and being with people. Now it’s all over and my house confirms that. I’m back to ordinary and dusty decor I’ve put up for 6 years- oh, except atop the TV! We have graduated from our 2004 27in tank of a TV (Drew reminds me I said it was like 50 inches in an earlier post- whoops) to a flat screen, digital, “smart”, TV so there is no more space for me to put a decoration on top! Hurrah!

Last week winter caught me off guard. In one sporadic attempt to help Eli right a sock (he often wears socks upside down, with the heel marking and bulk on the top of his foot- hey, “if the shoe fits”…but this day, it couldn’t…), I noticed his toenails. Oh my, they were long and misshapen, and downright pointed on the left third toe. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d thought about cutting his toenails. They’ve been so hidden beneath winter socks and shoes and I just never slowed down to notice. Not addressing it just then, it took another 3 days until I asked Drew to do Eli’s toenails when he sat down to do his own.

A few days later, Andi was asking me for something (probably gum, it’s often for gum- 5 packs in her stocking this year!), but I couldn’t hear what she was saying because of the chapped-ness of her lips! Oh my!, they were white with cracks and rawness. I grabbed my purse and gave her chap-stick. I thought about how to give her chap-stick of her own to apply multiple times a day but most of her wardrobe consists of pocketless leggings. Alas, I’d have to try to intentionally offer it to her throughout the days until her lips could heal.

Andi in winter cuteness

These two events got me thinking about how different my parenting is for Eli and Andi than it is for Oakley this winter. For Oaks, I’m aware of every flake of cradle cap, the slightest redness in the diaper area, a nagging sniffle, and each hunger and sleepiness cue. His vulnerability and helplessness requires my constant and careful attention. I notice and know so much about his little body.

I used to know and notice and care for Eli’s and Andi’s in this way as well and haven’t stopped to think about their maturation as a separation from my care. I’ve celebrated their developmental milestones and enjoyed the departure from laboriously wrestling their limp arms through clothes, changing their diapers, and spooning food into their mouths. They also enjoy their independence and assert their skills with confidence. They don’t need my careful, constant, care in the the same way Oakley does right now but they still need my help, they need our parental attention in little winter-caring ways.

Eli in ice skates- indoor winter fun here we come!

I am thankful for the reminder to carry intentionality out of Christmas and into the rest of this winter. I’m deciding to be grateful for what winter does offer:  an exercise for our family imagination as we try harder to find new things to do inside, the bonus of extra cuddling under blankets with Drew while we’re downstairs, how yummy coffee tastes, and the mug feels, on cold mornings, how the morning darkness helps my kids sleep later, the cute baby sweaters and cuddly fleece outfits I get to dress Oakley in, and how cutting Eli’s toenails means I get to hold him on my lap, and that if I’m putting chapstick on Andi’s face, I’m looking right into her eyes.

Thank you winter for the deeper, slower, more intentional ways we must live. I am grateful I live in a quadruple season geographic area and I will attempt to embrace the winter rhythms in this post-Christmas Ordinary time.

Because of my astute opinions, incredibly intelligent insights, and lively storytelling… I’ve been interviewed about God’s invitation to live out my true identity as a BELOVED CHILD on the blog of Tamara Buchan: www.reclaimthetrueyou.com/blog. In all seriousness, Tamara’s book and Jesus’ invitation to live in freedom and peace have changed my life this last year. 

I’m THANKFUL for the reminders- visible and invisible- of the love, joy, peace, truth and hope that surround me daily. May your Thanksgiving be a blessed one! THANK YOU for reading!

It has been awhile since I last wrote. Indeed as you might imagine,  my blog has fallen into the pit that is overwhelming newness and frantic pace, as well as the occasional slow minute of joy and simplicity, that is the new life we live with 3 kids and a fall work/school schedule! I believe I’ll be back up and running with a faithful Monday writing rhythm soon.

However, I am excited to share a process I’ve been walking through these last few weeks as the blog has been so quiet. I have been part of a blogging interview with my aunt who has recently authored a book. I’m glad she asked me to share about my identity formation in the recent past and appreciate the powerful insights and knowledge I gained from reading her book last year.

Look for the posting of the interview on Wednesday. Here is a brief intro of Tamara and the book.

Tamara Buchan has many different identities: wife, mother, daughter, aunt, friend, pastor, neighbor, author, but she has found that her true identity comes from a place of being adopted by a loving Father into his family and discovering that she lives in a royal household where she is being taught to reign.

She has written a book called “Identity Crisis: Reclaim the True You” because she believe it’s imperative for us to realize humanity has been in an identity crisis since the Garden of Eden. The thief stole Adam and Eve’s identity; and his tactic hasn’t changed.  When we begin to reclaim the true identity God gives us, we step into a more fulfilling, peaceful life which leads us into the unique destiny God designed for us. 

Interested:  go to www.reclaimthetrueyou.com to “claim” your copy today!

Yes I am 37 weeks pregnant but no this post is not about the eternally popular “What to Expect when You’re Expecting” book or the not too successful summer movie of the same title. But while we’re briefly on the topic, there has been one unexpected nuance to the new baby prep around our house. After much late night, “I should be asleep but my mind is racing” mental room-rearranging, I bought a smaller bookshelf, Drew assembled it, and we moved books and toys out of Eli and Andi’s room to make room for a crib. The idea is 3 kids, 3 beds, 2 dressers, some books, some toys, and some sanity to all fit in ONE room. The space was carved out and I felt GREAT about the new arrangement. We only needed to insert the crib into the crib space. After almost 2 hours of work, during which Drew and I didn’t even come close to arguing (world record!!!), we realized, the crib was HUGE and the space too small. The room is currently in this state of disarray: What you can’t see in the photo is the large rocking chair and ottoman and the small dresser that will house this new one’s clothes. We thought it would fit well. It doesn’t. The choice now: Play “If you give a mouse a cookie…” around our house. “If you put up a large crib in the kids’ room, you’ll have to move the rocking chair. If you move the rocking chair you’ll have to move the china hutch from the family room. If you move the china hutch….” That’s as far as I can think and I’m already as tired as the little boy on the last page. I’ve never liked that book very well…it induces stress!

When unexpected events happen in life, stress, results. Foundations shaken, normalcy upset, established norms demolished, dreams and hopes ended…this is the carnage of life’s upsets. Most unexpected events aren’t as dismal as some of those words but some are so devastating, words cannot capture the pain. I read a story of an 11month old ran over at a Northland church yesterday…unimaginable shock, pain, tragedy. A friend faces shock and a now uncertain future as he went from pursuing an adoption with his wife to facing a divorce with the same wife after one life-altering conversation two weeks ago. For me, the last few years have held their share of the, not as tragic but still apple-cart upsetting experiences, of the unexpected:

1. My parents were divorced after 35 years of marriage last October

2. Drew changed jobs in the Spring of 2010 from YL staff to Financial services

3. We sent Elijah to kindergarten from THIS house. When we bought it 6 years ago and read the elementary school that coincided with this address, I literally said out-loud, “That doesn’t matter in the least. We will not still  live here when we send this unborn child to school!!!”

4. My good friends moved.

This is a post mostly about number 4.

I got a phone call while I was in the parking lot of a Chili’s in the early Spring of 2006. On the other end of the phone was Carol Graves. I knew her then primarily as a mother of one of the YL girls I took to camp the previous summer. She explained that day that we lived close to each other in the neighborhood and that she and her husband would like to start babysitting for our 8 month old son so that we could go on regular dates. We took her up on the offer which began a great family friendship.

Over the next two years, the oldest Graves daughter Melissa would begin babysitting for Eli regularly for Drew and I on YL club nights. We would attend Melissa’s graduation party and get to know Michelle, the younger Graves daughter as she dabbled in Young Life and became a babysitter as well. Mike Graves is a seminary professor and was always willing to provide stimulating theological conversation and books during my 4 1/2 years of MDIV studying.  Carol and Mike had us over for dinner regularly, always including us in rib smoking or most any new recipe they wanted to try out. We were grateful for the friendship, the open back door, the interest in our children, and the thoughtfulness that constantly came through in calls, check-ins, random things they’d pick up that our kids would love, and the neighborliness- help with moving things, borrowing tools, exchanging rides to the airport, and the consistent babysitting!

The list goes on and on with the years. In a 5-plus year friendship with all 4 members of the KC Graves family (their oldest son Michael always lived out of town and we enjoyed his friendship as well during visits!), there were numerous blessings:

-Mike made Eli golf clubs when he was 2 and took him golfing when he was obsessed with it as a 2 and 3 year old.

-Michelle and Melissa were Andi’s earliest visitors once we returned home from the hospital with her. Andi took some of her first steps at Michelle’s high school graduation party.

-Michelle came to Castaway as a friend of mine and a nanny in the summer of 2011 when I was the Summer Staff coordinator. She was an epically wonderful caretaker of the kids and stepped up when I was losing it during the first transitional days.

-Carol and I started walking regularly at a super quick pace (Carol set it, I tried to keep up) around a great 3 mile loop during which we would process life, listen, and enter in.

-Melissa graduated from MU with honors and her Philosophy of Religion degree and decided that with all her brains and beauty, she’d dorn chef pants and oven mitts and become a pastry chef. We are the satisfied recipients of many a tasty treat from Melissa’s kitchen! (Just ask Drew about the lemon bars and he’ll close his eyes and smile. )

-We spent afternoons at the pool, evenings on their deck and racing around their yard per Eli’s request, nights at Royal’s games, mornings receiving bagels on our door step from the “bagel fairy” who always drove a car soo similar to the Graves’ vehicles, and time on the phone just about any time of day or night.

-We watched Grey’s Antatomy with wine and goat cheese every week last year and Carol brought the kids home from school almost every Tuesday and Thursday (see previous Golden Year post- these are attributes of the golden greatness from last year).

-Michelle goes to college and grad school in California and still we connect as good friends over the phone in long calls.

This is a small smattering of the innumerable blessings and connectedness we shared. When I list my best friends, there are 3 Graves women on the list.

So, when the idea that they were putting their house up for sale was voiced early this summer, I was befuddled. This was so unexpected! They were established, their house was big enough, they’d lived here for over a decade. I was the one who was supposed to move out of my house, they were the reason I was staying sane in this small space when we decided we couldn’t get move. They (and the great pool and proximity to my Hyvee) were the reason I considered never moving from this neighborhood- merely finding a bigger house within it. MOVING?! Surely not!?!

Alas, after ups and downs and “maybe we’ll buy a house in this neighborhood”, unexpected but great news came their way in late June. They had a buyer for their house and found a house they liked and would purchase…in LIBERTY- 15 miles and 20 minutes away. Just a slight jump in traveling distance from the 3 minute walk to their back door that I did weekly and that my kids could do on scooters and bikes at 2 years of age!- Sarcasm is heavy here.

Michelle broke the news to me while I was headed to the pool with their pool pass on a Saturday afternoon. I couldn’t help it and cried as we talked of the reality that they were moving, that God was leading them in this process, and that change was coming. New and different were ahead of us in 1 short month. I sat behind my sunglasses crying while we talked for 20 minutes. Then I proceeded to swim my laps, while crying, in goggles, while still trying to breathe and cry at the same time. After 10 of these pitiful laps, I went home, and asked Drew to hold me. (Let’s note emotions were high as I was 26 weeks pregnant!)

Before we went to Castaway we had a “last supper”, during which Melissa and Michelle sent Eli on a birthday scavenger hunt through the kids’ favorite places in their house ending with his birthday present of a skateboard. Andi was awarded a final trip to her sweet spot-the closet with the fruit snacks just for her in the garage. When we returned from Castaway, the house was in boxes and we had a true “last supper” on paper plates. I made it through without crying that night.

Unexpected changes bring pain and emptiness. Pain and emptiness voids precede healing and a refill. The Graves moving brought a crazy turn of events as the buyers of their house turned out to be friends of Drew’s from Oak Park days. A precious new family, the potential for peer friendship and new neighborly community- God’s hand providing for them and giving us a new opportunity where I once could only see loss. We are grateful that Tom and Bonnie and Everett are in our neighborhood now! What a humbling spot to sit, letting go and getting to receive an unexpected gift.

Geography doesn’t define friendship- this I knew that day in the pool, with the tear filled goggles. The Graves moving to a different house would change the daily dynamic of our friendship but wouldn’t change the soul of it. We are connected with love and stories, history and care that can cross many more miles than the 10 we have to drive on HWY 152 now.

Melissa came with bagels on Eli’s first day of school. Last week Carol drove all the way out here to walk with me on our old route at 6:45am. And today, I called Carol to see if a crib she offered me last Spring was by any chance still available. “Why sure!” she drawled, “Of course, and I’m here tonight if you want to come get it.” Fortunate once again to have the connection, generosity and resources that they’ve offered for the past 5 years come in an instant, E and A and I drove to Liberty to grab a crib.

The crib is perfect. And now the disarray of the unexpected non-fitting crib is fixed. No cookie for this mouse! But I should bake some cookies for Carol. And for Bonnie as well.