...thankfulness is the best medicine.

I've returned home from Chicago, only slightly worse for wear. There was a lovely 3-year-old little boy who shared his cold with me and it hit just in time for the flight home. Despite the runny nose and scratchy throat, I came home refreshed and at peace and so thankful... with that in mind, an update on dragging my feet my journey towards 1000 gifts:



61. a sweet friend who will buy me a plane ticket
62. old friends who forget how crazy immature you used to be
63. boys who love toy cars
64. clean clothes
65. a life-long friend who will put you on a plane
66. and take you to Chicago
67. and show you art
68. and invite you into her beautiful mess



69. wise people who point me back to God
70. a daddy taking all three kids to the park
71. the smell of banana bread
72. musical chords that must've been constructed by God (matt asks: "be thou my vision?" / i say: "well, yes, but i was thinking arcade fire.")
73. God giving us a second chance and a fresh start overseas
74. a friend in ireland who says: "when you get back home..."
75. the idea of a house with a yard waiting for us
76. peace that surpasses all understanding, even when i'm tempted to question it
77. planes that land safely
78. leftovers in the fridge to feed my children
79. going on a girl date with my daughter and friends in the city
80. the dimple under her eye when she bites into a cupcake

31 days of LIVING in transition :: leave your house {day 12}

Yes, leave it. Get off the couch (or, if you're anything like me, out from under the covers, outta bed, comb your frizzy hair), open the front door, and leave your house.

As heretofore mentioned, when in transition I want to run, I want to hide (much like Bono does). And while the hiding isn't so good, the running might actually be onto something. It is all too easy to not live and hide from the reality that change is coming - or recently happened - when the only thing staring back at you is your TV and your Facebook account. Leave. Your. House.



What to do when you leave your house? I'm so glad you asked! Here's a top 10 list for things to do when you leave your house, stop hiding from transition, get out of survival mode and take baby steps towards life!

1. walk around your neighbourhood (bonus: meet people & exercise).
2. find your closest coffee shop and become a regular (same time, same place, same barista).
3. update your card catalog: get a driver's license, library card, loyalty card (these things say: yes, I lived here! and become part of your history).
4. talk to someone for 10-30 seconds (longer than a simple, "thanks" but shorter than, "so when I was in the hospital with mumps..."). Repeat daily and quickly increase to hourly reps.
5. go to church (even if you don't want to, even if you're brand new, even if you're not a Christian. Church people are - mostly - friendly people and will like you and pray for you if you let them).
6. join a club or take a class (in addition to, or in lieu of, church). Places to look for said clubs/classes are: library, grocery store bulletin board, or Meetup.com.
7. get a haircut. By month five, you'll really need one.
8. go where the people are (I will cover this more later in the week).
9. find a park, plop down on some green space, and people watch.
10. day trip! pick a spot on the map within a couple hours drive, find a friend to go with (or take yourself and a journal/book), and spend the day away from the mess that is transition.

Now, don't think I practice all or any of these things every day. I've experimented with most of these, but the idea is to discover who you are, what feeds your soul, and what grounds you when everything else is up in the air. 

I try to remember that the best way to live with intention while permanently living in transition is to leave the four walls of my heart's shelter, and go where the people are, where relationships wait, where I can think and pray and actively pursue experiences in whatever current home, situation, job, mess I find myself in.

So yeah, leave your house, and find who you are, where you are, for however long you are there. Or here.

I'd rather be in a battle of praise

Praiseworthy things for today:

• Mama-bears! You know who you are and the sacrificial and Christ-like way you love.
• Children who jump up and down when you come home.
• A temp job, to help pay for some terribly expensive dental work.
• Car-pooling with the sister for a week.
• Hearing from the other sister, sometimes I miss her without realizing it. :)
• Celebrating a year-old church plant with new friends in a city I love.
• The baby tearing up things just because... he is so curious!
• The ability to turn to God for whatever, whenever.
• Friends a world away who you sometimes catch in the middle of the night on Facebook.
• Free speech.
• The gift of writing. I'm so thankful Ms Davis and Mrs Jeter told me to write all those years ago.
• Hope amid sadness and troubling times.
• A new governor for Kansas, one of the few republicans who defends the oppressed and fights for social justice.
• Hearing the voice of God through wordless music.
• Missions Sunday coming up and the chance to sing my heart.
• A funny friend who makes all things silly and fun, or serious, when they need to be. But mostly fun.
• Working out and losing weight and feeling positive about my health.
• The man being home. I truly did miss him more than my macbook.
• The boy, who can't wait to sign his name on a letter to God.
• The girl, who keeps me on my toes and lets me brush her hair.
• The baby, who cuddles after naps. 
• Thanksgiving's soon arrival, and with it a family gathering of most of my favourite people. I can't wait till heaven when every family gathering will include every family member... oh, it will be fun. :)

I think today I could go on and on. Because God is good and speaks to us if we listen. And sometimes speaks to us even when we're not listening. He surprises me that way. I'm not the best listener... so glad He knows me.

Flash Flood Warning

It never rains like this in Ireland. Hard, loud, thundery rain. I'm just in from the sidewalk, jumping and laughing and drinking cold rain. In the middle of July, I am actually shivering. But it feels super good. And I remember that it's been a good long while since I've enjoyed something so freely, even for just a few seconds.

Short, sweet, joyful freedom.

Top 10, Ireland Style

So I've hit a rough patch with living overseas recently. Surprisingly to me, the 8 month mark on the culture shock curve shows an upswing, while I feel like I'm in a tailspin. So in order to help myself look at things more rationally, here is my Top 10 Things I Love About Ireland & Would Miss if We Left:

1. Tea & biscuits (or even better, tea & scones!)
2. The Irish church (not just our church, but the Christian community at-large)
3. My coworkers, who I so rarely get to see, but always enjoy and learn from
4. Living within an hour's drive of mountains
5. Living within 5 minutes of the sea, and getting to see it nearly every day
6. Public transportation (especially the train that runs by the sea)
7. Our new Irish friends, several who have taken the time to mentor us in the ways of the Irish
8. Rugby and hurling (really fun to watch, though I don't yet understand a thing about them)
9. Jackson's school, which he loves
10. No political commercials! :)

Taking a mental picture

I wish I could describe the scene I'm currently sitting in, and yet be able to do it justice. I know it's an impossible task, but still I wanted to share it with you - my anonymous friends, my sisters, and you, Donna. :)

Jackson is asleep on the couch. After we read our Advent verses (making up for a couple of missed days), we prayed. And we prayed for a long time, which is unusual. He wanted me to pray for his Great Grandma & Grandad Stecker (as well as all his other grandparents). A very sweet request as it's been so long since he's seen them, and he never really saw them that often, but he said God told him to pray for them today. So we did. He then curled up, kissed me goodnight, and swiftly fell asleep.

The lights in the house are turned off, with the exception of my trusty Ikea paper floor lamp, and a green scented candle, burning inside our little black church sitting on the mantle. The lights on the Christmas tree are on, too, and I'm sitting in a chair, between the lamp and the candle, facing the tree, listening to Songs for Christmas.

A scene so perfect that I don't even mind the toys and papers on the floor, or the dirty dishes in the sink, or the fact it's been a crappy day, or that I'm waiting on the husband (again) to return home. So perfect a scene that I finished my Bible study for tomorrow, the first time I've achieved this feat in innumerable weeks. There is a snoring child happily draped on the sofa. Another one upstairs in her own bed (for now). And I am at peace (for now).

I have found that in the midst of completely chaotic, soul-searching, heart-wrenching, hair-pulling times, God has been known to give a good gift or two. Or a sweet moment or two. Or just a chance to catch one's breath and see that some things are right. Maybe not all, but some. And sometimes, some things are just enough.

  

An Itty Bitty Victory, of sorts

After the super, duper, heavy post, I thought I would write about a bit of a triumph I experienced yesterday.

Some of you may know that our eldest, the 5 year old boy, had a rough start to life in Ireland. Culturally and socially, he just did not fit in, and we were really not at all prepared for how hard this would be on our typically easy going child.

The week after we moved into our house, he had a bit of a run-in with some neighbour children, which commenced in an awkward/angry encounter with their mother and a plea to keep our children separated from now on. Jackson wasn't too phased by this situation (as he had already picked out his BFF who was our next door neighbour boy, and they continue to remain best buds). However, I was devastated at my first big, public failure as cross-cultural worker/server/reacher-outer. Ugh. It just cast a pall over me. I questioned my responses to the situation (which coulda been better, seeing that I'm kinda a mama bear), questioned why we were here, thought Jack would never make friends and figured we'd have to move out of our housing estate hanging our heads.

Cut to 4 months later. A birthday for our girl. And one of the children in this family happens over for some cake and a little bit of friendship. The next weekend, a birthday present appears for Ella from this family. Then yesterday, a doorbell and two children at our door asking Jackson back over to their house (for the first time in 5 months), where he's treated to a birthday party for the youngest, cartoons, cake, sweets, and a goody bag.

As I walked back home after depositing him at the party, my smile grew with each step. I sighed a long, deep breath of relief. It took awhile, of course, but the space and time (and smiles in the school yard and the occasional drive-by wave) seemed to create an opening of possibilities.

So today, the middle child stopped by again, for a play-date. Jack proudly showed her around the house introducing her to "Alison" (Granny) and "Karen" (Mommy) and Ella who followed her around the house yelling, "HUG!" The new child was slightly confused and I thought, eventually, she'll get used to this.