Two milestone things from this week that I don’t want to forget…when these 2 years seem a blur of the past.
She’s attempting to spell. Any guesses as to what she jotted down, below? Hint: it’s what she wanted to take on a nature walk.
I love fuhneticul spelling!
And she’s just started doing this.
Turns out that the important how-you-tie-your-shoes conversation didn’t come up during Scott and my pre-married counseling. Not so long ago I realized he doesn’t chase the bunny around the burrow like I do.
And by watching, she’s tying her shoes. Just like Scott. (Sobering to think about all she’s absorbing by watching at this sponge-like age. Thank You, Jesus, for grace in this role as a mom!) Editor’s note: She doesn’t have genius tendencies as much as I’d hoped. 😛 I just learned that Scott’s totally been working with her every day. I had no idea!
Each time she ties them she gives me a serious mini-talk about how I’m not to get tooexcited when she does it. But a little bit excited is ok.
Scott and I sat together during church for only the 2nd time in 18 months. I have a newfound appreciation of what I’ve taken for granted so often before having kids.
Our church, like most Aussie churches, doesn’t offer any options for children under 3, so Scott and I have been taking turns in a back room with him for all these months.
But Sunday–oh blessed Sunday!–Sunday school resumed for the new school year (it’s late summer here and school’s now starting) and Joshua’s 3 so can finally go to class with the big kids and Mrs. Taylor!
A year ago this morning, our little family put our feet on Australia soil, er concrete, for the first time. Oh, the range of emotions I have on this anniversary!
I have this picture, above, in our bedroom and the kids love looking at it, picking out faces. Thank you, friends who came to send us off before we and our 17(?) bags headed to the Land of Tomorrow. What community we have in Orlando and often long for.
Oh, that was a hard goodbye for my heart at the airport.
And that flight. Whew! We’d lost some hearing, we’re sure, with Joshua’s screaming for a huge chunk of the trip. Can I say thank you again to all you who signed up and prayed for us to get here in one piece and with our sanity still in tact? It was hard but–holy cow–it’d have been a complete disaster had people not been praying. Thank you. (How far Joshua and his speech has come in a year!)
It’s wild to read about our first day in Australia. I’m hoping for some time to be quiet and journal and pray and listen to what God might say to my heart as I think about this past year.
What do Americans do on a cold 4th of July in Australia? Take a 24-hour, no phones or computers getaway! Pack up a car boot (trunk) to the maximum with sheets, towels and food (nearest grocery store 30-45 min away from our destination).
Then, take a nap, and drive 2 hours to a friend’s vacant house.
P.S. I’m heading in Wed at 11:15am (Tuesday 9:15pm EST) for a follow-up ultrasound to make sure I’m healing well from the miscarriage and that nothing’s left inside that might cause infection.
In a handful of hours, I get to speak at MOPS about being brave. I’m excited and nervous and anticipating what God has. Would you join me in praying that the women would see Jesus…and that we’d have a laughter-and-sweat-filled journey in the hour together?
I’ve only been to this MOPS once. But the leader, Jane, quickly became a dear friend. The kind that, if she lived next door, I’d find lots of reasons to knock. She knew I taught Jazzercise and so asked if I’d be one of their monthly speakers during 2015 — their year with a theme of “Be Brave.” I get 30 minutes to talk and then we get 30 minutes to dance. (I’m pretty sure we have sound system but not sure about a mic. Mom, thanks for birthing me with an outside voice. Again, it comes in handy.)
So I get an hour and I already have dry-mouth thinking about how I’ll talk too fast and, at times, try too hard to be funny as I tell about my unlikely journey to become a certified fitness instructor and God’s sense of humor in it all. How fun it will be to be to witness some women risking a bit, on the edge of their comfort zone as they put on runners (workout shoes) and we dance and sweat…and, before they know it, they’ve worked out for the first time since before kids.
The plan was just to go into the City to celebrate Australia Day with the masses. We’d wear our Aussie t-shirts, (skipping the thongs — see below), wave flags, enjoy the train ride into and back, and eat a snag or two (sausages).
We never expected to sit 9 rows up from an Australian Open 4th round match.
Coming from Orlando, a hot Christmas wasn’t the shocker it could have been. But it was still different. Quieter.
A few things played into that. One was a daily Advent time our family enjoyed. Because it was simple and Lizzy especially loved it, we slipped into the morning ritual and stayed there. My heart is thankful for the built-in turn-my-face-to-Jesus time.
Another reason it was quiet was that we weren’t rushing to finish Christmas shopping and packing in order to catch a flight to the Midwest.
And…it seemed that most everyone around (including neighbors and their cars) evaporate, and with it, the daily noise.
A few photos (most for family back home) of what life has looked like recently.
And, to be honest, it’s been a spiritually dry time lately.
This international move has, honestly, exposed my heart. I’m seeing how, under stress and without some of the structure of life and community in Orlando, I can run to all sorts of things that don’t bring life, but bring comfort…at least for the moment. Or two. Emotional eating rears its head again as if saying, “Eat this, drink this and feeling lonesome will be abated.” Yet I know that it’s a temporary fix and that seeking Jesus and asking Him to comfort me in those moments when I miss America and the friends and family and my known life…that’s where to run.
I’m also exposed in how I use my time. When I should go to bed, I’m on Facebook, grasping at feeling connected in two worlds. When I should get up — I want to want to get up and spend quiet moments reading the Bible and hearing truth and the voice of Jesus, but the sheets stay pulled stubbornly over my head. And when I should be all-present with my kids, I’m allowing myself to be under the pile of a to-do list that never ends. (Wait, I thought that was just my problem in America. I guess the problem followed me here. Oh, is it me?)
Sigh. The stillness of this Christmas season has been a gift in many ways and hard in others.
Afresh I see my need for Immanuel. The God who “moved into the neighborhood” as the Message says. The God who came and lived and loved perfectly because we couldn’t. God made flesh who came to bring abundant life to a woman in Melbourne who longs to live out the freedom He came to give her. I’d welcome your prayers.
Time to go to choose sleep so that, by God’s grace, I may choose time with Him in a few short hours.