All moved in

One week and one day after we moved in, I finally have a free moment to write an update. It is a rainy Saturday here in High Ridge, Missouri. Saturday! I suddenly have a new appreciation for Saturdays.

If you are on Facebook you may have already seen a few of these pics, but there are also a few new ones.

We had our closing last week on Friday morning and then, keys in hand, drove straight to the house. Shortly after we arrived, so did the moving van.

Move-in went well. We had a very good team who worked hard to get us settled.

These next three pics are actually from the walk-through the night before closing. The previous owners left us flowers and a handwritten card with much helpful information. Our realtor gave us wine and chocolate-covered strawberries!

You aren't really moved in until the piano is moved in.

New peek-through spot.

Happy Evan and Willard.

Welcome committee. (Hunting friends, just so you know, the deer in this neighborhood are not the edible kind.)

After a week, the kitchen is almost unpacked! These things take a bit longer when you're working full-time!

Last night was the first night we actually slept in the house! Since we didn't have appliances yet, Evan and I spent the week sleeping at the rent house. The appliance situation has been somewhat frustrating. The laundry room is not large. It also has a utility sink. That, plus the fact that the dryer hookup is on the left and the dryer door opens to the right, necessitated this arrangement for me to be able to access the dryer. 

Although it doesn't look like it, there is sufficient room for me to work. The problem is that, as arranged, the line to connect the dryer to the washer's water supply (to enable the dryer's steam function) did not reach. So I have no steam on a dryer that is supposed to have a steam function. I haven't given up, though. I'm wondering if a plumber might be able to provide a longer line. 

In other appliance woes, the refrigerator I bought is too wide for the freezer door to open without quickly hitting the wall and limiting access. 

I had measured to make sure the unit fit the space, but failed to think through the ramifications of the refrigerator being against a wall. So this fridge is going back and a 3-inch narrower one is coming. Lowe's is being great about letting us use this one in the meantime. They will pick it up in a week and trade it out with no restocking fee. And in an unexpected turn of event$ for a narrower unit, we are getting a little more cubic footage in a French door model with a utility drawer. Oh, darn. 

This morning I was feeling very frustrated facing all the appliance issues (did I mention that the valve for the refrigerator water line is now dripping?) while preparing to take my husband back to the airport after he was here for barely 24 hours. (He was supposed to come Thursday but didn't come until yesterday due to his flight's being cancelled for weather.) How quickly thankfulness can turn to exasperation. 

Reflecting on the morning, though, it occurred to me that had I bought the narrower refrigerator right off the bat, we would have gone another week without a fridge, as the replacement is having to be ordered. As it turns out, I have a fridge that I will be able to use in the meantime while I'm waiting for one that will fit better. I found my exasperation turning to thankfulness as I observed yet again the Lord's capacity for taking the difficulties in our lives and working them out for good. Then I found myself wondering if that is a rather self-centered way to look at it. As if God cares about my refrigerator when there are parents mourning children who went to school last week, never to come home. 

Yet I know that God cares about every aspect of our lives and that indeed He is present, working out all the details for the ultimate blessing of those who trust in Him. I don't know if He had anything to do with our appliance struggle. But I do know that we are called to cast all of our cares, large and small, upon Him, knowing that in all things He cares for us, and that because of that knowledge we are able, in all situations, to give thanks. So thank you, God, for a new house, a crowded laundry room, a refrigerator that doesn't fit, a home warranty to provide a plumber, and a husband that is fulfilling his call as both a cantor and a husband and father. It is good to be home. 

From Texas to Illinois to Oklahoma to . . .

Almost 25 years ago we packed up what little we had and moved from Texas to central Illinois. We took a baby with us, but not a piano. The piano had to be sold because we needed the cash and also because the tiny place we could afford in Illinois had no room for a piano.

About 7 years later we moved again, this time from central Illinois to the Chicago suburbs. In a turn of events my husband and I would have never predicted when we were growing up and attending school in Texas, that house in the Chicago suburbs ended up being the longest place either of us has ever lived in our lives. We spent 14 years there. We gave ourselves, heart, mind and soul, to building a life there. We (mostly) reared our children there. We got a lot older and tireder there.

Then life took an unexpected turn. In another development we would have never predicted, we wound up in Oklahoma. Oklahoma?

Yes, Oklahoma. God knew exactly what we needed, and he brought us to a place of love and rest and patience and beauty. It ended up being the place my mom died. She is buried here, in a quiet, peaceful location, and for that I give thanks. Oklahoma, how good you have been to us. We hope we have been half as good for you.

Now we prepare for one more move, one we hope and pray will be our last for a very long time. In a few weeks we will pack up our Oklahoma house and move to Missouri, where I have been working in a job I love for the last six months. We are excited but sad. We will miss this place. We wish we could take the house, church and people with us. We will always be grateful for our time here.

For the foreseeable future my husband will continue working in Oklahoma, staying with friends and making regular trips to Missouri. He is working with our church to help them find a suitable replacement and to aid in the transition. In the meantime, Evan will join me in Missouri and prepare for his own new adventure: Lutheran high school! He is so excited about the prospect, if a little nervous about the changes coming.

We would appreciate your prayers for this transition, for our family's eventual arrival together in one place, and for my husband's vocation as we wait upon the Lord's direction for how he can best serve his neighbor in the years to come.

 P.S. We're taking the piano with us.

We are in!

Hello! Long time, no blog! We have been just a tad busy the last month with buying and moving into a new home. Have you ever been so happy that you think it can't possibly last--that certainly something is just around the corner waiting to mess it all up? That is kind of where I am right now. I'm a little afraid to just let myself be happy. But I'm working at it. And it turns out that it doesn't take all that much effort. :-) 

If we are Facebook friends you have probably seen many of these pictures. For you who eschew that particular corner of the internet, here is a pictorial walk through the last few weeks.

First items in (the book was a housewarming gift from a dear friend)

Boy and dog explore new surroundings

The Nordiska approves.

Our means of refrigeration for about 5 days while waiting for more modern replacement.

 Much better! 

If he ever gets fired from this cantor gig (stranger things have happened) he can get a job on "The Price is Right" or "Wheel of Fortune." 

View out my bedroom window. :-)

New washer/dryer!

I have my work cut out for me.

Homeowners again! (Glad to have a home warranty to go along with the keys and garage door openers.)

The Harsh Reality

"Mom, something just hit me."

"What, Evan?"

"Well, by the time we get all these boxes unpacked, we're going to be ready to move again."

 Thanks for pointing that out, honey. Not sure I would have thought of it otherwise. ;-)

The current state of our garage, not much different from a month ago. 

Signs

I grew up in The South, but I have always resisted the generalization that Southerners are friendlier or more hospitable than people in other parts of the country. I tend to resist sweeping generalizations as a general rule (haha), but in the twenty years we lived in Illinois, I also met enough generous, warm, and welcoming people to belie the notion that Northerners are cold. Still, as I think about our icy, snowy drive from Illinois to Oklahoma a few weeks ago, something stands out. I don't know if it would have happened in Illinois, at least not in Chicago. Right before we crossed into Oklahoma, at a travel plaza located where Oklahoma, Missouri, and Kansas converge, we had to stop for gas. My elderly mother also needed a restroom break, which necessitated her getting out of the car and navigating an icy parking lot with her walker. As I helped her out of the car, a rather big, burly farmer stopped his truck and got out. "Could you use some help?" he asked. I told him I would appreciate it. He got on one side of my mom as I got on the other, and together we walked her all the way into the store. I know if she had slipped he would have not let her hit the ground.

But that's not the end of the story. After we finished our business in the store and came out, a woman who had just pulled up offered the very same assistance. Granted, my 18-year-old and 10-year-old were in the car and could have been drafted to help. But instead in both cases complete strangers stepped in.

It was a remarkable and symbolic welcome to our new state. Even so, the first night we spent in our new house, I didn't sleep much. I sat up and cried and thought about the place we had left and couldn't get the memories to leave me in peace. But with each day that passes, another act of kindness has made me feel more at home here. That incident at the Oklahoma border seems to have been a sign of things to come.

I am reminded of when we moved from Texas to Illinois 20 years ago. That move was filled with uncertainty. I had lived in Texas my entire life and now we were going to Illinois so that my husband could be a full-time church worker. What in the world were we thinking? On the first morning of our drive, as we crossed from Texas into Arkansas, we were greeted by a rainbow. We took it as a sign that God would bless our way forward.

I don't know if these things are indeed signs or if I am seeing in them what I want to see. But I do know that God always blesses His children. So I cling to the sign that I know is true, that of the cross made over me, my husband, and our children in our baptisms. And that is no overgeneralization.

Why I'm Not Posting Much

Last week

Today

Please tell me you can see progress, even if you can't.

Moving Day

I started out to write a Facebook status, but it got too long, so here's a blog post instead.

Today was moving day! Yesterday the majority of our house was packed. Also yesterday Phillip, Trevor, and our dog headed out. Today the moving van showed up around 9:00. It was a full day of nonstop packing, moving, and cleaning, and by 5:00 (I think) the van had left, fully loaded. Wow. Earlier in the day a friend picked up Evan and took him on a play date for the afternoon. Today of all days it was a great help to provide him with something else to do. But more important, it was a chance for the two Evans to say a final goodbye. Evan and his friend Evan first became friends when they were in preschool together. Although they have never gotten to see each other as often as I'm sure they would like, there is something special between the two of them. They have just always clicked. Thank you to my friend Anne for this parting gift of one more play date. I think your dropping my Evan off for the last time made everything real to me in a way that nothing to this point, not even the empty house, did. :-(

Since our beds are on their way to Oklahoma and it is late and we are exhausted, we are checked in to a hotel for the night. We will not be driving away until tomorrow--there are still some loose ends to take care of in the morning. But we got a great deal on a room, had some pizza, and will soon go to bed and try to get a good night's sleep. My mom has been a real trooper today. In another example of God's good timing, if we had sold the house and tried to move any sooner, I don't think she would have been as ready for this trip as she now is.

We will take two days to drive. Monday morning the van shows up and the whole thing plays out in reverse. I think the drive will actually be relaxing. Just sitting in a car instead of running this way and that, tending to this detail and that one, wondering if I'm going to remember the next thing I need to do. I can handle that!

There's No Place Like Home

Fourteen years ago today we closed on our house in the southwest burbs and Phillip carried me across the threshold to begin our Chicagoland adventure. In a few days we will leave this place for good. Ironically, the person who took the picture below fourteen years ago ended up being our real estate agent for the sale of our house this year. He wasn't a realtor back in 1999 but a friend, and he has remained one throughout our time here. How fitting that when we drive away we will leave our keys with him.

Our time in this house has always been, uh, shall we say, a bit complicated. It was definitely one of those love-hate relationships! We are not fixer-uppers and it turned out there was a lot about our new home that needed fixing up. Still, we learned to love her. Our children have spent the majority of their childhood years within these walls. Phillip and I have both lived here longer than in any other house our entire lives. Fourteen years adds up to a lot of memories. Those memories come with small print identifying the time and the place, and it is hard to leave the place behind without feeling as though you are also in some part letting go of the memory.

In another bit of symmetry, we are leaving Illinois a little over 20 years after coming here, and we are heading back to our southern roots. Leaving Texas was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I had a 10-month old baby and my father was very ill. Taking that baby and kissing his grandpa goodbye to move 900 miles away just about ripped my heart out. My dad died less than a year after we left Texas. But I know that coming to Illinois was the right thing at that time. I will never forget our first Christmas Eve at Trinity Lutheran in Peoria. Leaving midnight mass in an historic downtown church to a gently falling snow made this Texas girl feel like a character in a storybook. How fitting that as I write this, a New Year's Eve snow of 4-8 inches is predicted. Thank you, Old Man Winter. We'll miss you, too. And forever and ever I will look back on our Illinois story sort of like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz:

"But it wasn't a dream. It was a place. And you and you and you . . . and you were there. . . . and I remember some of it wasn't very nice, but most of it was beautiful--but just the same all I kept saying to everybody was 'I want to go home,' and they sent me home!"

Home, of course, is where your people are, and for us Illinois has been home for a very long time. Still, I do sort of feel like we're leaving the Emerald City to go back to Kansas (or in our case, Oklahoma), and I am very much looking forward to a quieter, simpler, slower, less technicolor life with all my dear ones gathered round. I pray wherever you are that you, too, wake up to a lovely, promising new year. See you in 2014!

"Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass." - Psalm 37:5

Last Walk

Today Phillip, Trevor, Caitlin and I took one final walk together in Illinois. Evan decided to stay home, which turned out to be a good thing, because this was almost a two-hour walk. We covered most of the ground we have trod for 14 years now, heading first to a park and then to a nature preserve not far from our house. We took Willard, our dog, with us. Willard is the third of our dogs to walk these paths (the first was Giselle, who came with us from Texas, and the second was Shiloh, who lived all of her nine years in Illinois).

Have you ever watched Survivor? We haven't watched it for some years now, but we used to. Toward the end of each season, the last few, remaining survivors take a final walk on which they stop, in turn, at torches representing the already eliminated players. At each torch they share a few words of remembrance about that player. We decided to spend our last walk in the Chicago suburbs similarly, pausing at favorite stops as we reviewed our time here. We spent the first half of our walk on the years 2000-2005, and the second half on 2006-2011. We ran out of time for 2012 and 2013 but decided that was a good thing since those years are still quite fresh (in some cases, too fresh). It was fitting that we had our two adult children on this farewell walk, as they were with us when we came to Chicago. We kicked off our northern Illinois adventure with a seven and four-year-old; we leave it with a twenty-one, eighteen, and ten-year-old. 

The pond.

Walking to the trout farm.

At the trout farm.

Heading back.

With the one who doesn't let me fall.

Home--for about one more week.

Christmas Miracles

I know the "Christmas miracle" is a Hollywood creation, and the true Christmas miracle was a virgin birth over 2000 years ago, but we have experienced several bits of extra good news this month. For those who may not have heard all of them, here goes.

1) We have a house! Feast your eyes. :-)

We have decided to rent for now. The pool of homes for sale that fit our needs, wants, and price range is pretty small right now. We narrowed down to a couple of options, looked at those, and decided we weren't up to the task of making them immediately inhabitable. So we turned to the rental market. That pool is also fairly small. We looked at two houses in Tulsa and two in Broken Arrow. Both houses in Tulsa could have worked for us. One was an older midtown home with a lot of character; the other was a newer home with a lot of square footage. Neither was ideal, though, and both would have meant a 20-25 minute drive to church. That is less than desirable for people whose lives revolve around church. So we turned to the Broken Arrow options. One of them had five bedrooms, which would have been great for bunking purposes when everyone is home, but it was lacking in living space and in need of much cleaning and repair. The property manager did not leave us feeling confident that either would be adequately done. So at 7:00 p.m. this past Friday night we nervously headed to the last house on the list.

Oh, my. It was lovely. A little smaller than we would like, but truly a beautiful home, built in 2000 and in mint condition. The current occupants are moving back to their home state of Texas and we enjoyed chatting with them as we looked at the house. We knew within a few minutes that this was the house for us. Not only is it in excellent condition, with the floor plan we need (a suitable bedroom and bath on the main floor for my mom), but it comes with all appliances in new or newer condition. (All of our appliances are remaining with our house in Illinois.) It even comes with patio furniture, flat screen TV in the master bedroom, and bar stools (I kid you not)! It is almost too good to be true. There is a nice-sized, fenced yard (which we need for the dog) and a pretty neighborhood park within walking distance. Church is 10-12 minutes away. Between the charming young couple (with adorable newborn and cute Yorkshire terrier) from Texas and the fact that the house just came up for rent this week and we were the first people to look at it, we are convinced this was a "God thing." I know--everything is a God thing. But this was really a GOD THING. We snatched up that house on the spot, and because we are renting, not buying, and we don't have to be at the closing on our own house, we will be able to move even sooner than we had originally thought (probably the first week of January). Oklahoma, here we come!

2) Caitlin has been accepted to her first choice of college, Truman State University in Kirksville, MO. They have offered her $10,000 up front with the possibility of more money later when the competitive scholarship review begins. Truman was recently ranked #12 on the Kiplinger list of best values in public colleges in the U.S.  Caitlin is very excited about the prospect of attending there, and they have been extremely attentive to her in the admissions process, calling on the phone (multiple times), sending handwritten notes, and now, processing her application and sending her initial offer with great speed. I think the odds are good we will be moving some boxes to Missouri in August of 2014 (sniff).

3) My mom recently took another fall, but after a four-night hospital stay and thorough once-over she is back home and doing fine. As best we can tell, she had a fainting spell due to a urinary tract infection. She got quite a bump on her head and a nasty tear on her hand, but we are thankful that nothing was broken. Considering what she has gone through the last week, she is in excellent spirits. Anyone reading who knows me well knows that the preceding sentence is something of a miracle. My mom was so sad for such a long time--I am still pinching myself at the change she has undergone since her surgery in September. I am having to relearn the way I interact with her. Protective walls don't come down overnight, but we are working on it and slowly remembering what it's like to be mother and daughter.

I am in Oklahoma right now but heading home tomorrow. Then it will be time to pick up Trevor and get ready for Christmas! Phillip will be home the week between Christmas and New Year's. We hope to move in early January. Maybe in 2014 you will see me writing less about our day-to-day struggles and more about ideas. I do still have them, sometimes.

Blessed Gaudete Sunday!

Still Waiting

I woke up thinking about this post from a few months ago. I guess I am already in the Advent spirit, since it seems we are still waiting! We are no longer waiting on my mom's surgery and recovery, thanks be to God. Her surgery was successful and her recovery is well under way. We are, however, still waiting for a closing and a move, and the reuniting of our family. 

I have thought for a long time now that I need to somehow come to terms with the waiting game. I guess our whole lives are to some extent one big long wait. We wait for birthdays and holidays, for weddings and births, for graduations and job offers, for college acceptance letters and ACT scores, for paychecks (especially if you're a self-employed musician ;-)) and home sales, for diagnoses and cures. Sometimes we end up waiting for a very long time, as the job goes to someone else, the home doesn't sell, the apology doesn't come, forgiveness is not offered, or we are told there is no cure. I am not sure, though, how to be at peace with that sort of waiting. I can't seem to do it. I wait and worry and obsess and cry and ask, "How long, Lord? How long?"

But in Advent I am reminded that while this world is one big wait, the kingdom of God is not. While we wait for the kingdom of God in its fullness on the last day, we as redeemed children of God live in that kingdom right now, today, enjoying all of its goodness and blessing. In the bulletin at church yesterday there was a reminder of the threefold meaning of Advent:

Christ came to redeem us.

Christ still comes to deliver His salvation.

Christ will come again to take us home.

As we go through our days of waiting for earthly answers, we can know that Christ has come, is coming to us now, and will come to us for eternity on that final, glorious day. Isn't it just like Jesus to not make us wait for him as we wait for all the other things of life, but to come to us today, offering himself freely to undeserving sinners like us? I guess with Jesus at my side I can wait a little longer for the rest of it. :-)

The Week

Trevor is home! Phillip will be home tomorrow night. Both of them have to leave again Saturday, so with fewer people around to eat leftovers, Thanksgiving dinner will be scaled back this year. I bought a spiral-spliced ham, the smallest I could find, and a French silk pie at the Jewel bakery. I will make our customary deviled eggs along with several other side dishes. That's it. Thanksgiving morning we are going to worship with our Trinity-Tinley Park family and in the evening we are invited to the home of some dear friends. It should be a nice day.

The house sale is proceeding, although we still haven't nailed down a closing date. We do know that it will be in January. We would like something earlier; the buyers would like later. I'm sure we'll find a date we can all live with. God willing, we'll be in Oklahoma by the first of February. Six months apart is six months too long.

Several days ago I received terrible news about one of my oldest friends. As I understand it, on Monday of last week she fell off a six-foot ladder and lacerated her head. She was treated and sent home but within days was back in the ER, where she was ultimately diagnosed with necrotizing fasciitis. In the last four days she has had four surgeries (called "debridements") to remove necrotized (dead) tissue from her head, neck, shoulders, and chest. More debridements may be necessary. Right now her friends and family are praying for her survival, as 25-40% percent of people who contract this rare condition die from it, even with treatment. Those who survive face a long, painful recovery along with skin grafts and plastic surgery in the affected areas. My heart breaks for my friend and her family.

Here is a picture of me and Shelley from high school.

Here's a picture from about three years ago:

And here's an article about necrotizing fasciitis. If you are not familiar with this killer, please read and become informed now. It is rare, but no one is safe from it, and the best chance for surviving and avoiding the extensive surgical removal of diseased flesh or even limbs is to diagnose and treat it early and aggressively. The primary warning sign is pain that seems out of proportion for the injury. After her initial treatment my friend returned to the doctor with pain and swelling and was given pain medication and steroids and sent home. Her condition worsened and by the time she went back to the ER she was in septic shock with respiratory distress. I can't help wondering how much better her condition might be today if she had been properly diagnosed on her first return visit.

Trevor, Caitlin and I are going to see Catching Fire tomorrow. I also want to see The Book Thief. I am curious how that book is going to make the transition to screen, since I have a hard time envisioning Hollywood's managing to preserve Death as the narrator.

Caitlin is working on her college applications. As we did with Trevor, we are starting to get a "feeling" about one of the schools on her list. That school seems to have the same feeling about her, as the correspondence from their admissions office has kicked into high gear. It is so exciting to see my daughter dreaming about the next stage of her life. I am refusing to think about a day in August of 2014 when we will drop her in a dorm room and return to a house that will then be emptier by two. . . .

Then there's Evan. A little while ago he asked, "Mom, can you get me some socks?" I told him, "Evan, I think you can get your own socks." He replied, "OH, YEAH. I keep forgetting I'm ten years old!" And here I thought I was the one who was an expert at selective amnesia.

This is blessing.

To have a realtor who, when you share some of your misgivings about the sale of your home ("What if something goes wrong?") responds as follows:

"And above all, your life and this deal are in the Lord's hands. So rejoice and have faith in the wonderful plans He has for you and your family! Living in faith is always exciting!"

Thank you, friend.

News

We have a contract on our house! Closing is set for the first week of December. We will be having Christmas in Oklahoma. :-)

What does this mean? We are in for quite the month. Next weekend we will be going to Nebraska for Trevor's junior recital. Not long after that I will go to Oklahoma to join Phillip in looking for a house there. Come the end of the month, we will celebrate our last Illinois Thanksgiving. A few days later, we'll load up the wagons and head out.

I am not ready. I mean, I'm ready. I'm ready! (But I am so not ready.)

This Is Getting Hard

Our house has been on the market about two months now. (Phillip has been gone about three months, as it took us a while to get the house ready to list.) We have had many showings but no offers. There has been very little in the way of negative feedback. I know that all we need is for the right person to see it, and that could happen any day--maybe today! Two months is really not that long. But a little voice inside me has started asking, "What if?" When we first put the house on the market I didn't look much past Christmas. And my vision of Christmas was that by that time surely we would have sold the house. I pictured us spending Christmas together in a new house in Oklahoma. But now that little "what if" voice has made itself known, and lately it has been getting louder. What if we don't sell any time soon? What if fall drags into winter, and winter drags into spring, and we're still here, waiting?

It's not just the living apart from my husband that makes this hard, although that's the biggest part of it. It's the realization that this is Caitlin's last year at home before college, and she could end up spending it without her father as a daily presence in her life (and vice versa). It's the realization that Evan has already missed out on one year of singing in his dad's children's choir, and now he is working on year two. It's the realization that we gave up a lot of things on the assumption that we would not be here to participate in them. The feeling of loss regarding those things will be even greater if it turns out we could have kept them in our lives one more year.

And yet as I write this, I feel like a big baby. I know of women who have had to spend much more time living apart from their husbands than I have. I know of women who are permanently without their husbands, rearing children on their own. Who am I to complain? The children and I have the familiarity of our home, our well-traveled paths, and each other. I have more free time than I've had in years! Meanwhile, Phillip is all alone, trying to learn a new job while not having a place he can really call home (he is boarding in a parishioner's house). He has the much harder "row to hoe." And yet he doesn't complain, but spends his time on the phone trying to build me up after working 16-hour days. He puts me to shame.

Once upon a time there was a church I loved too much. It's not my church anymore. There were some friends I needed too much. They're not in my life anymore. I have been told that I love my husband too much. He lives in another state now. Maybe if I loved this house more it would finally sell. . . .

Mom Fail, Defined

Noun, compound. When your 9-year-old who is a good reader but who hasn't embraced reading to the degree his older brother and sister did at this age suddenly decides at 9:00 at night that he wants to start reading The Silver Chair but when you go to the shelf to take it down you realize it's not there because you already packed it (because the realtor said you have too many books) and now it's in a box somewhere in the Portable On Demand Storage (PODS) unit sitting in your driveway and you really don't want to go out and look for it in your pajamas in the dark.

It's in there . . . somewhere . . . (probably right next to the microscope).

UPDATE: Narnia has been found. The microscope is still AWOL. 

Yes, I'm Still Here

I guess it hasn't been that long. Just a little over a week. I've been sort of busy! Here's the rundown.

On Monday I went to St. Louis to spend some time with Phillip at the LCMS convention. Here's a little about what he was doing.  It was fun. He let me play the tambourine.

Tuesday was my birthday. For the record, it was not my fiftieth. I was happy to run into some Loopers (Lutheran homeschoolers) that I have known online for a long time but had never met in person. I also met up with Rebekah and spent about three hours talking her ear off. (Have I mentioned that she is one of the nicest people you could ever hope to meet?) Phillip and I then went to regular reader Untamed Shrew's home for a supper of salmon, rice and green beans and a sopapilla cheesecake that was to die for. Thanks, Rev. and Mrs. Shrew!

Then, at about 1:30 that morning, my daughter called. What had seemed to be a mild allergic reaction to working outside had worsened, and her face was swelling painfully. I told her to get my Epi-pen (which I have as a precaution because I take allergy shots), alert Trevor, and call 911 if she had any sign of oral swelling or trouble breathing. I packed quickly and headed home, arriving a little before 7:00. My poor girl looked as though she had been in a bar fight. We went to the ER, where she was given IV medications to reduce the swelling and offset the reaction. She is doing much better, but you can see in this photo where her arms are red four days later. We still don't know what caused the reaction but suspect some sort of poisonous plant in ours or the neighbor's back yard.

We have been doing a lot of packing this week. Sort of (see above).

Phillip's installation at our new church has been set for Sunday, August 18, at 4:00. It is in the afternoon to allow others in the area to come. He had a great time this past week meeting the Oklahoma delegation at the convention! We are overjoyed to be joining them in carrying the message of the Gospel to Christ's people there. Phillip plays his first services at Immanuel today. We will have to be with him in spirit.

And in the "I can't explain it" department, something strange happened to me this week. I can pinpoint the moment. I was driving somewhere in the car, thinking things over, and suddenly some long-felt hurt and anger drained out of me. I don't know why it happened where and when it did, but it happened. Thanks for not giving up on me, God. I knew you wouldn't, but sometimes I wondered how long you would wait.

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?" - Psalm 27:1

Phillip Doesn't Live Here Anymore

He left yesterday to begin his new call in Oklahoma. The rest of us will remain here until the house is sold and we have a new house to go to. Someone asked why we didn't just move, too, and stay in temporary housing with Phillip while letting the realtor handle the sale of the house. It boils down to the difficulty of finding something that would be large enough for six people plus a dog and that would adequately meet the needs of all involved, particularly my elderly mother. So we are here, while he is there. After a quick stop in Oklahoma, Phillip will drive to St. Louis, where he is lead musician for daily worship at the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod's triennial convention next week. From there he will return to Oklahoma to begin his new job in earnest, playing his first service the last weekend of the month. I am going for part of the convention so will get to see him next week, but the children will have to wait until mid-August to see their father again unless we sell our house sooner (unlikely, since we are just beginning that process).

Speaking of selling the house, our realtor team came over earlier this week. They are old friends, and we have great respect for their expertise and their commitment to selling our house. But I have to admit I was surprised by the primary focus of their visit. I expected them to generate a list of suggested updates and minor repairs. There are several things we had already decided must be done before putting our house on the market, and our friends did take note of a few of them. But the majority of their advice was focused not on repairs or even on cosmetic changes but rather on the presentation of our own belongings. I am familiar with the real estate concept of "staging" a house* and had come up with some of my own plans for how to reduce clutter and crowding. But their advice went beyond what I expected, extending to suggestions for rearranging our own furniture. I mentioned the topic of staging on Facebook and was surprised at the strong opinions people have about it. A few of my friends said to follow the realtor recommendations, but a great many others argued against them, calling them a waste of time.

After considering both viewpoints, I am coming down somewhere in the middle. We do have a lot of stuff, and we have a large house that may not come across as large because of all the stuff. So in addition to general purging and tossing, we have ordered a PODS unit and will be working on filling it with boxes and some furniture so as to emphasize the space that is in our house. We are even going to take a few books off the shelves (we were told our custom bookshelves have so many books that the beauty of the shelves is not being adequately showcased) and move a few pieces of furniture. But we are not going to pay a professional stager, nor are we going to spend money on decorative items for a house we are about to sell! And that piano and organ? They are staying right where they are. Potential buyers will just have to use their imagination. Let's hope they have some!

*For the curious, here are some of the other things that were suggested:
remove coats from coat closet--just leave a few jackets hanging
remove as many items as possible from bedroom closets
clear off surfaces (such as dresser tops and kitchen and bathroom counters)--things sitting out suggest insufficient storage space
remove personal photographs, knick-knacks, bulletin boards, children's artwork, refrigerator magnets, etc.--this is for the sake not only of decluttering but of depersonalizing the space
take leaves out of tables to make them smaller

Memory Lane, Part 2

Speaking of memorabilia, the most unexpected thing I came across in my sorting today was a piece of mail addressed not to us but to someone in Prescott, Arizona. The return address is that of our former next door neighbors in Peoria. The letter was returned to them with an "address unknown" stamp. I can only assume that the mailman accidentally put it in our mailbox. The postmark is January 3, 2000, which would have been within a few days of our move from Peoria to Chicago. I found the letter in a group of farewell notes written to us by our church family in Peoria. Probably I meant to take it to our neighbor but failed to do so, and it has been sitting in a box in our closet ever since. Oops!

Memory Lane

Purging and organizing have begun in earnest as we look to a move in the next few months. Today I spent a good deal of time going through memorabilia, including many notes, cards and letters that people have written to us--and particularly to my husband in his work as a church musician--over the years. As I was reading through some of these treasures, the thought occurred to me that not only did they offer encouragement when they were first sent, but they are offering encouragement today. To use a cliché, they are truly gifts that keep on giving! Little did the people who sent them know how their words would live on.

Sometimes in life the voices of criticism, however few and weak and insubstantial they may be, can drown out the voices of approval. I think of my piano students, and how I like to tell them that it takes twenty times of playing something right to balance the one time they played it wrong. Unfortunately that seems to hold true for life as well. One person tells you you're no good, you're not worth his time, you're an impediment or a problem, and that's the person you have a hard time ignoring in spite of the hundred voices that are saying something else. So if there is someone in your life who has been a blessing to you, I encourage you to let him or her know. Not with an email that will get lost or even a phone call that will be over when you hang up, but with an old-fashioned card or note. Your subject will not only be encouraged when he reads your words tomorrow or the next day, but he will be encouraged when he rereads them five or ten or twenty years down the road. And as he soaks in your love and affirmation, gaining strength for the next part of his journey, he will think of you and be glad.