A New Home

This is a picture of me standing in our new kitchen over a month ago. I am gazing out the window, wondering what it would be like to live in this Charleston home with hardwood floors and tall ceilings. On our last day of packing up the Williamsburg house, we received a call from the realtor that our very low offer had been accepted. (The one we had turned in over two weeks prior to that call.) We were surprised and excited, but oh so busy with the hard work of packing. Then we returned to Columbia, to our temporary home here. It seemed normal now to live in the heart of the city, in this old white two story house. The kids quickly ran next door to visit with Mr. Clarke, their new favorite friend despite a fifty year age difference, whom they missed during a week away. We unpacked and settled in once again to life here. Our realtor came by and said yes, we should make the end of September closing. So, two days ago we walked back through the new house. We measured and examined, looked at paint chips and imagined furniture placement. It all seemed so surreal. The new Charleston style home is big and tall and handsome, and right now, relatively quiet. Can we make it our home? It is wonderful and nice, but does our twenty year old sofa belong there? What about the mismatched chairs and inherited rugs that were all warm and inviting together in our old home? You could look at it all and see it wasn't purchased together, or stop to see each piece as evidence of how we have been generously loved by family. Only one or two pieces have we actually stepped out and dared to obtain on our own. Isn't that how it works though? Great grandmother's old rocking chair does match the in-laws recovered old sofa. The old wedding gift table works well with the new bench seating. The tall disorganized english major has fun with the short scheduled science girl. God always puts things together in ways that are creative and surprising. I am anxious to see how it all fits together once again in this new place. I know it will be a bit like a first date for a while with everything awkward and requiring such thought. It is harder to imagine doing this with children, bringing them into the transition. We will start with the walls, with new colors and paint. Our first step at making this house a new home for us all.

Transition Work

We just returned from the final "packing up" of our home in Williamsburg, Virginia. I can't really say much about it right now. Leaving that home is so big that I am still standing close to it in its shadow. But I did realize something about life and transitions: there is always work to do in a time of transition. Think of childbirth: the work of labor that comes as you realize your life will never be the same once this little person is born. As a doctor, I think of the work of dying and how often it comes and gives the person a sense that they are ready to move on, to leave this place. This week as I was packing box after box, coveting cardboard and treating Stearlite storage containers as if they were a precious commodity, I realized that moving is tremendous work. But the work is good. It keeps you moving and forces you not to simply sit on the floor and cry. Work was made for good, and sometimes the box after box after box, keeps you moving and allows you to walk through something that you simply couldn't do without the "work" of it.

I wanted to put in these few pictures from our makeshift schoolroom at the Clarke's house. We have finished five weeks of school now. There is much that I like about doing school together, although it has felt a little less than excellent in quality with the constant chaos of a move hovering. In this picture, Henry is coloring on the dry erase board, while Caroline does grammar and John Mac cuts with his scissors. School starts back tomorrow after a week of "vacation"! Hope the students had a better break than the teacher did....

"Because Me"

Hannah has a special saying of her own: "because me". The last few nights, Hannah slept in her ballet shoes. I asked her, Hannah, why do you want to sleep in your dance shoes? Her response: "because me". If you ask Hannah why she likes the color pink, she'll respond: because me. It's a form of "because I told you so" for the young spirited child. Hannah has adds a real joy to life around here and I think a lot of it is from her clear sense of "because me".

These pictures are from our recent first church picnic! It was so much fun. We had 75 people for fried chicken and side dishes on the beautiful grounds of our current temporary home. Clearly, the iced-blue cupcakes were a hit with the kids. I don't think I've really taken in how amazing it is that our first new church event had 75 people in attendance. How gracious God has gone before us. The people were all different ages and stages, nothing really in common other than a strange sense that they might be called to this new church. Ordinary miracles.

I had another ordinary miracle this week. Sitting in the kitchen, making my usual PB and Js for the kids, the song "All Creatures of Our God and King" came on (the patty griffin version...). Somehow the words struck me and I was so thankful for five mouths to feed all at once in a strange kitchen that is not my own in a new town that is incredibly hot in September with twice the utility bills. (how's that for a run on?)

Last thought: Texting. I didn't have friends that texted in W'burg, and I was fine with that. I'm kind of anti-technology. Here, everyone texts one another. And I have slowly joined in on my small 9 digit keypad. Here is what is fun about texting though: it takes me back to passing notes in junior high with your favorite girlfriend. That joy of having a thought and knowing someone couldn't wait a whole hour to hear it! It's been fun to be in a new place and think that I have friends to "pass notes to" already.