"Should the Christian stand all day long at the grave of all joys which he enjoyed in past years? Through Holy Baptism a great stream of joy has been conducted in his heart, which does not drain away, but streams forward with his life until its waves carry him into the sea of a blessed eternity. Should the Christian be reminded all day long that the flowers of his youth fall more and more? He stands planted by God in the water of his Baptism as a palm tree which becomes greener and greener and whose leaves never wither. Yes, his Baptism makes death for him like a short winter's nap, out of which an eternal spring--an eternal youth--follows. . . .
"Now then, all of you who believe in God's Word, let your watchword for entering the new year be this: 'I am baptized!' Although the world may laugh at this comfort, the enthusiasts vex its confidence . . . nevertheless, abandon any other dearly held pledges and speak only throughout the entire year to come, in all terrors of conscience and necessity through sin and death: 'I am baptized! I am baptized! Hallelujah!' And you shall prevail! In every time of need, you will find comfort in your Baptism; on account of it Satan will flee from your faith and confession; and in death you will see heaven opened and will finally come into the joy of your Lord to celebrate a great year of jubilee, a year of praise, with all the angels forever and ever. Amen!" - C. F. W. Walther
I couldn't sleep Friday night. It was my first bad bout with insomnia in some time--the kind where your brain goes in circles and just won't turn off. I am never sure what brings it on, but in this case I think a contributing factor was news of the death of a young woman of my knowledge. I didn't know her personally, but I knew of her, as she was on staff at a news outlet for which I have written. Her death was a huge shock, as she was not only young but seemingly strong and healthy. According to what I have read, friends saw her a couple of days before she died, and she seemed fine. Early reports attributed her death to complications from H1N1 influenza. She was found, unresponsive, by a friend, who called 911. She later died in the hospital.
I am once again reminded of how tenuous is our grasp on life. It's a cliche, but it's true: at any given moment, we are only a few heartbeats/inhalations away from death. The young woman who died is the same age as my firstborn. At the age of 26, she had already achieved a remarkable degree of success, fame and respect, at a level most of us will never attain. And now, in the blink of an eye, she's gone. I think of my own children, and how well they're all doing in their respective pursuits, and how healthy and (mostly) happy they are. Could something like this happen to one of them? Could they go from peak productivity and well-being to death in a matter of two days? Could my husband or I?
The answer is terrifying to ponder. It's so easy, when things are going well, to take life and its blessings for granted. Our family has had its rough patches, but compared to what some people have had to contend with--are contending with--we have had it pretty good. As I reflect on how good--and for how long--I find myself thinking that it's just a matter of time before Something Bad happens. Why should we be free of trouble? There's no reason we should. We are no more deserving of smooth sailing than the next wretched sinner. We live in a fallen world. Death, the devil, and our own sinful natures are always lurking, plotting to snatch the joy and beauty that are to be had this side of heaven.
What is to be done? Does it help to stay awake analyzing and planning and worrying all night long? Does it make it less likely that Something Bad will happen?
Of course not. Then why do I do it? Why do you?
Because we are faithless. We don't trust that God our heavenly Father is really and truly holding us in His hands. If we did, why would we worry or fear for anything?
Thank God that when we are faithless, He remains faithful. Thank God that He forgives me for too often allowing pointless worrying and obsessing to drown out the peace and comfort that are to be found in His Word. Thank God that even when we can't seem to see, hear, feel, or find Him, He is nonetheless at work, turning all things for good for those who trust in Him.
Please say a prayer today for a family that is facing a kind of pain and loss many of us blessedly can't even begin to imagine. Lord, let them know your love, and grant them your hope and comfort.
I was baptized when I was an infant, but I did not grow up knowing or being reminded of my baptismal birthday the way my husband and I have always reminded our own children of theirs. I'm sure I must have had to look up the date when I was confirmed as a Lutheran in my early 20s, but I pretty quickly forgot it again.
A few months ago, as we transferred to a new church after moving to Missouri, I had to look up the date for our new church's records. I don't remember having to do this for other times we have transferred. Perhaps the date was somewhere in my membership record and other churches simply shared it with each other.
Anyway, what a happy discovery it was to go looking for my baptismal birthday only to find out that I was baptized on November 1, 1964. November 1 is not only All Saints' Day, but it is also the date my oldest child was baptized in 1992.
Trevor, we have the same baptismal birthday!
I will never forget this date again.
"We share by water in His saving death.
Reborn, we share with Him an Easter life
As living members of a living Christ.
Alleluia!"
("We Know That Christ Is Raised," Lutheran Service Book 603)
Over the last few weeks I have on two occasions behaved in a way that made me stop and think, "Wait, was that really me?"
In the first instance, I was on a road trip with the kids, attending a wedding in Nebraska and then circling back through Iowa City so that Trevor could check on his apartment and we could all attend the dedication of a new pipe organ at his church there.
After the organ dedication service, we went to eat at a place we've been to before. It's a small, "crunchy" establishment with delicious wraps, sandwiches, soups and salads. We ordered and received our food and were about halfway through our meal when the background music suddenly took a turn and we found ourselves listening to a song that repeatedly used the "F" word.
I got up, went to the front counter, asked the worker to change the channel, and told him why. To his credit, he quickly and politely complied.
In the second instance, I was again out with the kids to see a movie this past weekend. Without going into detail, let's just say I found the ticket-taker highly lacking in courtesy. He responded to us extremely rudely not once, but twice. Young Cheryl would have most likely moved on but grumbled about his sour attitude. Older Cheryl told him, "You are being very rude."
Twenty years ago, I would not have found it so easy to assert myself in either of these situations. I am not sure what has brought about the change, but it's kind of nice to know I can still learn a new skill!
A couple of weeks ago Evan and I were watching a TV program when an Amber alert rolled across the bottom of the screen. I shook my head in sadness and went on watching the show. A few moments later I noticed that Evan was not looking at the screen but was bent over with his head in his hands. I asked him what he was doing. "Praying," he said. Oh. Of course. That would be the thing to do at such a time, wouldn't it? Funny how my 14-year-old thought of it and I didn't.
More recently, Evan and I had supper at the home of friends--a pastor and his family. Another pastor was also present for the meal. When we arrived at the home, Evan asked if he could take his Bible in and ask a few questions. I said of course--pastors live for such times! So while I hung out in the kitchen with the lady of the house, Evan sat in the living room, Bible in hand, grilling not one, but two pastors about theology.
In the past when people have asked Evan what he wants to be when he grows up, the answer has been something related to computers or video games. Lately, though, it's been "maybe a pastor."
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.
A little over 26 months ago, just a few days after we moved from our Oklahoma rental home into what we thought would be our Oklahoma forever home, I took this picture:
Tonight I took this one:
"Forever" is looking different from what we had planned, and tomorrow we will leave this place behind. How fondly we will remember our time here. That view!--oh, that view. What a salve it has been to weary hearts. How many mornings and evenings we have passed just sitting, gazing, basking in sunrises and sunsets more beautiful than we could have ever envisioned, drinking coffee, or wine, or caipirinhas as we watched a boy and his dog romp among the fireflies or head across the common ground to feed the neighborhood horses some apples.
I'm sad to think of leaving a home we have loved as much as any place we've ever lived, but in a few years that boy is going to be headed off to college, and his dog is going to feel less like romping, and as much as I pictured this view with grandchildren in it some day, I think maybe it's better that on Wednesday morning we will be turning over the keys to a family of 7 who needs the space and yard a lot more than we do at this time in our lives. I am so thankful for the short time we had here, even as I trust that God has wonderful times in store for us about 375 miles up the road in a place called High Ridge. I think the grandchildren, if and when we have some, will be able to find us there, don't you?
I'll be back in a few days to post our first pics of our new home. :-)
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.
I am back at work in St. Louis and finally over the December sickness, yay! Praying I avoid whatever is now going around my workplace. From the descriptions of what some of my coworkers are experiencing, I think it might be the same bug, which should mean I am immune, right?
Caitlin has been in St. Louis with me this week, which has been wonderful. I kinda like that girl. Yesterday we joined some of the LCMS Communications team in attending the Chicago March for Life. We left at 7:00 a.m. and returned about 18 hours later.
On the right is the social media manager for The Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod. He does superb work. You can catch a few of his live videos from the march here. Unfortunately, the cold was a major drain on all our devices, including the livestream camera, which shut down before the march was over.
On the way home we stopped for gas in Bolingbrook, Illinois, where we lived from the time Caitlin was 4 until she was 18. She has many memories of this city, as well as of Chicago, and would like to go back for a longer visit. We hope to do that when it's a little warmer.
Much of our drive home was in snow. This is my back yard in St. Louis this morning.
Today I drive Caitlin back to college for her final semester as an undergrad! In May she will graduate with a Bachelor of Arts degree in English with a French minor. Boy, did those four years go by quickly.
Meanwhile, here's Trevor back at school at University of Iowa, where he is beginning his second semester of his doctoral program in piano performance. Next to Trevor is his current teacher at Iowa, Ksenia Nosikova. Next to her is his former teacher at University of Nebraska, Paul Barnes, who recently visited the U of I campus. Next to Dr. Barnes is a high school student who formerly studied privately with him in Nebraska but who, after a family move to Iowa, now studies privately with Dr. Nosikova. It is a small musical world!
So I learned a new phrase over Christmas break. My college kids taught it to me, and I'm liking it more and more. Here it is in case you want to try it out.
"Quit harshing my mellow."
In other words, stop messing with my serenity, disturbing my peace, rattling my cage, invading my quiet, or otherwise impinging on my sense of calm.
There. Go useful that one and let me know what you opinion. :-)
Trevor received the board game Ticket to Ride, so we played it for the first time. It was fun and not hard to learn. Guess who won? :-)
Evan plots his next move.
I am so proud of these two, the amazing people they have become, and the things they are doing with their lives.
Blurry Evan and Mom.
We made black-eyed peas in our Cosori (think Instant Pot, but better).
After game and supper, we listened to the King's College Lessons and Carols broadcast since we didn't get to do it on Christmas Eve. Then we watched a little of NYE from Times Square, after which we went downstairs to the piano and gathered around to sing "Auld Lang Syne." There may have been a few tears.
We wrapped up the night by taking turns sharing our aspirations for 2018.
Today I leave to go back to St. Louis. It will be a cold, cold drive! I am excited to return to my work but sad to leave the family here. I know they will be making good use of the time, though, and I'll be back home Friday night.
In spite of a lot of sickness running through various members of the family at different times of this holiday season, it has been a blessed time of togetherness. I pray the remainder of your Christmas celebration is a continuing reminder of God's goodness to you and His promise, no matter what happens, of another year of grace.
Now greet the swiftly changing year With joy and penitence sincere. Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace Another year of grace.
Remember now the Son of God And how He shed His infant blood. Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace Another year of grace.
This Jesus came to end sin's war; This Name of names for us He bore. Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace Another year of grace.
His love abundant far exceeds The volume of a whole year's needs. Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace Another year of grace.
With Him as Lord to lead our way In want and in prosperity, What need we fear in earth or space In this new year of grace!
"All glory be to God on high, And peace on earth!" the angels cry. Rejoice! Rejoice! With thanks embrace Another year of grace.
God, Father, Son, and Spirit, hear! To all our pleas incline Your ear; Upon our lives rich blessing trace In this new year of grace.
("Now Greet the Swiftly Changing Year" - LSB 896; translation by Jaroslav J. Vajda; to the tune "Sixth Night" by Alfred Fedak)
I wasn't planning to, but something my husband said today has changed my mind. He was reading an old post here and noted that one of the things that he appreciates about my blog is the ability to look back and remember what we were doing in years past. The thing is, that is getting harder to do, as the frequency of my blogging has steadily declined over the last five years. I started this blog in mid-2007. In 2008, my first full year of blogging, I posted 431 times. That was by far my most prolific year. The years 2009, 2010, and 2011 each went down. 2012 went back up a little, but since then my posting has gone down every year. So far this year I have only posted 20 times.
I think there are probably several reasons I am posting less. One, when I first started blogging, I had many friends who were also blogging. I read their blogs, they read mine, and there was motivation in that. When fewer people are reading, there is less incentive to write.
Two, I started this blog as an outlet for my writing. Now that I have found some other ways to channel that passion, I feel less driven to do it here.
Three, some of the things I have historically blogged the most about, such as homeschooling and child-rearing, are becoming less of a factor in my life.
But I don't want this blog to die. I have no idea who is still out there reading, but I hope that some day when I am gone (a long time from now!) this will at least be a place my children and grandchildren can go to revisit stories of their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents. Maybe when I'm an old lady in the rest home it will be a place I can do the same.
And hey, I may not have as much to say about homeschooling and child-rearing as I used to, but I do still have thoughts, and maybe even a bit of wisdom to share.
So I'm going to try to blog more in 2018. How much is "more"? If you want to know the answer to that, you're going to have to keep reading. :-)
For years now our family tradition has been to listen to Lessons and Carols live from King's College on Christmas Eve morning. We wake up and have our breakfast and coffee in pajamas while also enjoying a feast for the ears. It's our one opportunity as a family to sit all together during the Christmas season, hear God's Word, listen to beautiful music, and sing Christmas carols with no responsibility for leading any of it. We didn't get to follow our usual custom this morning as not only is it Christmas Eve, it is the Fourth Sunday in Advent (making for the shortest possible Advent season on the calendar). Instead of listening to Lessons and Carols, we attended church, and rightly so. We were blessed to join our church family in Scripture and song and to receive the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. But I wouldn't be completely honest if I didn't admit that a little part of me was missing our Christmas Eve tradition. But no matter! If you are also a Lessons and Carols fan and you missed today's broadcast, be advised that you can stream it any time over the next 30 days! We have decided that we will be transferring our Christmas Eve Lessons and Carols listening to the morning of December 26, otherwise known as The Feast of St. Stephen. We'll wake up, make cinnamon rolls and coffee, and listen just as though it were Christmas Eve morning. Problem solved! There is something magical about listening live, knowing that you are joining with millions of listeners around the world who understand the special and mysterious beauty of this nearly 100-year-old festival. But the most important thing is the opportunity to reflect in peace and quiet with the people I love best. Will I take that two days late? You better believe it. Here is a link for streaming the service.
Between a full-time job, the shortness of Advent, and being sick for the last two weeks, it has been a little tricky to get ready for Christmas this year. But somehow the tree is up, the cards are mailed, and the shopping is done. (Don't ask me if the house is clean.) Today is wrapping and cookie baking. Phew. By the grace of God, we did it! Of course, the only readiness that truly matters is the kind we have no part in--the readiness that is all gift, placed upon us in our baptism so that we might no longer be called an enemy of the Creator, but His precious child. As I think of the gifts I wanted to buy but couldn't find because I ran out of time; the cleaning that didn't get done; the cough that lingers, making me wonder if I will be able to sing at all this Christmas; I remember that none of it matters, because whatever is not in place on Christmas morning, the one thing needful will be right where He promises to be, coming to us in Word and Sacrament, caring not whether I am ready because His readiness is all. Come, baby Jesus! We are waiting for you! "O holy Child of Bethlehem, Descend to us, we pray; Cast out our sin, and enter in, Be forn in us today. We hear the Christmas angels The great glad tidings tell; O come to us, abide with us, Our Lord Immanuel!" (Lutheran Service Book 361)
For the season of Advent, I will be posting daily meditations from Dietrich Bonhoeffer on my Facebook page. The page is public, so if interested, you can read even if you're not on Facebook.
Yesterday I saw a picture on Facebook. It was of a young woman who, judging from her attire and the sign she was holding, probably took part in the Women's March earlier this year. Her clothing and hair were extremely flamboyant, designed to shock, and she was topless except for a couple of small, strategically-placed tassels. She was on the heavy side.
The picture was posted for no other reason than to mock her. And mock her people did, in comment after comment after comment.
I don't care what that woman looks like, what bad choices she has made, or how misled, confused and angry she is. She is somebody's daughter, sister, friend. She is loved by her Creator. She may some day regret the picture of herself that will never be erased from the internet. Perhaps she already does.
Which is why it's even more discouraging that the person who posted the picture is a pastor, one who in my mind is called to model Christ's love and compassion for His creation, not send the message that parts of that creation are there so that the rest of us can have a grand, old time tearing them down while we build ourselves up.
There was nothing to be gained by posting that picture, and so much to be lost.
And it's this sort of thing that makes it hard for people who have been hurt by pastors to learn to trust them again.
I started my new job. It's been 3-1/2 weeks! I love it. Oh, how I love it. Last summer, when I got to do for a week what I am now doing all the time, my husband told me it was the happiest he had seen me in a long time. I think part of that may have been the result of coming out of probably the most difficult 7 years of our lives. But I think part of it was also the work.
I am so very thankful for this opportunity. Who gets their dream job at 53? Not many people. May I never stop being thankful for this gift.
I have been thinking about why I enjoy it so much. A big part of it is the work itself. I am a writer, and I somehow got a full-time writing job. Wow. Not only do I get to write and edit, but I get to do so in the service of my church. I can't imagine much better.
But I think there is something else at play. I have realized, finally in my fifties, that I have a very strong need to belong. I think it may come in part out of a lifetime of not really feeling like I belong. In a blended family, I grew up as "half" sibling to 10 others. My father had 4 children; my mom had 6; they had me. In a family with two "sides," it is hard to know exactly where you fit.
When I was in junior high, we moved. I was bullied and ostracized in my new school. That experience exacerbated my shyness/introversion to the point that I worried way too much in high school about being liked and fitting in. I had friends, but I think I could have had more if I had just relaxed and enjoyed people more.
As the wife of a church worker, I have found it difficult to know where I fit in at church. As nice as people are, when you're on staff, there's a bit of a wall, a feeling that you need to be on guard. It's just the way it is. So you turn to the staff for friendship. When that doesn't pan out as you hope, it can be discouraging.
Some years ago I found a group that I thought were my "tribe": confessional Lutheran homeschooling moms like myself. And in truth, they are my tribe more than about anyone else I've ever known. Which is why they became so important to me, resulting in my not handling it well a few years ago when I suddenly didn't feel like I fit there either.
Back to the job. To be surrounded by not just a few but an entire department full of people that seem to care about so many of the same things I care about has been a joy. To spend my days working with those people on shared goals, and to see those goals come to fruition, is indescribable. I know many people never get to experience that sort of reward in their work. I am still pinching myself that I am getting to do so.
I'm sure there are going to be stressors, disagreements and problems along the way. When those things come, I need to not let them make me feel like I don't belong. And if I do end up feeling that way, I need to remember that it's probably due more to something inside me than anything else. Most of all, I need to remember that in the eyes of my Savior, I do belong, and that's really all that matters.
(Sorry for the "me me me" post. This is for my friends who might be interested in how things are going. They're going great!)
Have you ever had that dream where you are back in school and realize you forgot to go to a class, not just once, but all semester long? And now it's time for the final exam and you aren't prepared?
Or maybe you've had the one where you have to give a speech and have no idea what it's supposed to be about or what you're going to say. Perhaps you aren't properly dressed or aren't dressed at all.
Or if you're a musician, maybe you, like I, have dreamed you forgot to practice for your upcoming recital. Recently when I woke up from that one it was so vivid I could recall the title of the piece I was supposed to play but didn't know. It was "Phases." Having no knowledge of such a piece I assumed I fabricated it. Imagine my surprise when my son, a concert pianist, told me there is an actual 20th-century work of similar title that requires the pianist to play two pianos at one time:
After learning about the composition "Piano Phase" I couldn't help wondering if maybe I heard about it somewhere along the way and it stuck in my brain because it turns out to be a fitting symbol for my life at the moment. In a development I would not have predicted a year ago I have been offered a full-time position as managing editor of a national online reporting site. It is the official news publication of my church body, The Lutheran Church--Missouri Synod. The job requires relocation to St. Louis, so in August, I will be taking up residence in an apartment there while my husband continues working at our church in Oklahoma. It is only about a 5-hour commute or short flight between the two locations, and while we know it won't be easy being apart at times, we are convinced that this is the right decision, one that will allow me to best use my abilities in the service of God, my neighbor, and my family.
After listening to a bit of "Piano Phase" I'm not sure what I think about it musically, but I can definitely relate to the image of playing two instruments at one time. In a few weeks I will have two homes. Right now I am getting ready to start a brand new phase of life, moving from many years of squeezing in part-time work around my full-time vocations of wife and homeschool mom to now making room for a full-time job as my empty nest years draw ever closer. I know that there will be many challenges in this transition, but I also anticipate much blessing. In my freelance work I have already gotten to know many of the people I will now be seeing on a daily basis, and it has been a joy. I am looking forward to making both the work and people a regular part of my life.
Sometimes in life it can seem like whatever you're doing today is going to be what you do forever. When you're a child, adulthood seems so far away it's hard to imagine. When you're in high school, facing all the difficulties of adolescence and school and peer pressure, it can feel like you'll never get beyond them. When you're single, you might wonder if you'll ever get married. When there are dirty diapers every time you turn around, it can be hard to envision life without them. When you're nursing a dying parent, you can't think beyond the next dose of food or medicine. When your life consists of a certain job, house, church or group of friends, it can seem impossible that it will ever be anything else.
I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this, but I'm going to anyway. Wherever you are and whatever you're doing today, it's not always going to be that way. Maybe that is good news and maybe it's not. Maybe it's a little of both. Whatever the case, try to embrace what God has given you to do today, knowing that He is by your side, using all of it to bless and draw you closer to Him while He prepares your tomorrow. Whatever phase of life you're in, know that it's not forever. Take it as a gift, trust the Giver to sustain you through the bad parts, and expect blessing.
