Our seven day trip, four of those days being driving, putting nearly 2,000 miles on our 1997 Ford 15-passenger van hauling a 20 foot trailer, was long and emotionally exhausting. I was so looking forward to returning home. Home. That is what this little area in North Carolina has become to us. Home. Not just because I finally know my way around the local grocery stores, short cuts into Chapel Hill and have officially gone to the Museum of Life and Science in Durham more times than I can remember. I have probably put more miles on my car the last three months exploring this area than I did the last three years living in New Hampshire. Because babies nap, kids don't transition well, and because frankly, I was just struggling.
Home. I was sad to miss my church on Easter Sunday. To be part of the First Impressions team and get to see those precious faces who stepped out and came to visit our church for the first time. Either by force from a friend or relative because it's a holiday, or because it's a Holy-Day and they are desperate to find something deeper in that day. The day that Christ rose from the grave. Just like the Jewish prophecy predicted. Like He said He would. Because death could not hold Him, He was and is a conqueror. We had a different joyful honor that day, to share Christ at a community outreach in Derry, NH on Easter Sunday, hosted by a church that we have worked with for several years.
I was a hot mess the day before we left North Carolina for New Hampshire. There are so many stories, burdens, emotions, spiritual warfare, etc. behind why everything in me was fighting going on the trip. But it's rather offensive to tell people in your home state that you are crying about going home. Because it isn't "home." And that doesn't make it a bad thing.
You see, we have been so despereatly lonely these last few years. Ever since our best-couple-friends moved to South Carolina when Abigail was one, we have struggle so hard to find genuine close (couple) friends who would battle through life with us. I'm not saying this to shame anyone, but relationships are a LOT of work and we are all busy with work, kids and commitments.
Our lifestyle isn't the norm. We are gone all summer long. New Englanders hibernate in the winter between cold and sickness, and our kids are (finally) at an age where they don't nap and don't have an early bedtime. Abby is no longer struggling with health/ stomach/ kidney/ behavior issues that had cast a gloomy cloud over her first five years of life. If you don't know me really really well, I'm not a horrible Mom who hated her firstborn until two years ago. I totally understand that this sounds terrible, but I'm just giving you a page out of an entire five-year book. Being a parent is the hardest thing I've ever done and it is so lonely and isolating. Starting a brand-new ministry and support raising in the least Evangelical (less than 2%, which overseas we call an "unreached people group") and least charitable region of the country was enough to nearly break me... and in some ways, as I reflect now, I can see that it did.
Our lifestyle isn't the norm. We are gone all summer long. New Englanders hibernate in the winter between cold and sickness, and our kids are (finally) at an age where they don't nap and don't have an early bedtime. Abby is no longer struggling with health/ stomach/ kidney/ behavior issues that had cast a gloomy cloud over her first five years of life. If you don't know me really really well, I'm not a horrible Mom who hated her firstborn until two years ago. I totally understand that this sounds terrible, but I'm just giving you a page out of an entire five-year book. Being a parent is the hardest thing I've ever done and it is so lonely and isolating. Starting a brand-new ministry and support raising in the least Evangelical (less than 2%, which overseas we call an "unreached people group") and least charitable region of the country was enough to nearly break me... and in some ways, as I reflect now, I can see that it did.
Moving to North Carolina wasn't our exact plan. This time last year, we didn't know that we would be here. We had to sell our house in Candia, NH (due to replacing our well AND septic which nearly doubled our mortgage) and we knew that it was time for us to relocate regionally to be more centrally located for traveling for Cwtrials/ Bike Stunt Show and for Craig to be able to train year round. That's a super short version. Lately, I have been repeating the "How did you end up in North Carolina?" question and my two sentence response is very open ended- "We kind of just ended up here. One thing led to another." It sounds super unintentional and vagabond like... and we are a family of four living in a forty foot motor home. BUT, if you want to hear the whole story, it's beautiful and raw and I'm so glad that we handed the paintbrush over to God and let Him work the story of this past year. I really do hope to one day just sit and spill the details into a piece of writing that doesn't hold back, but I'm just not ready yet.
We came to this area hungry for community and a place to get rooted and grow. We came craving sacred companions. I didn't even know how to word it until recently when I peeled open the first few pages of my personally signed copy of Emily P. Freeman's book Simply Tuesday. It was on the last leg of that long journey, as Craig drove our van and trailer through the Shenandoah Valley, and I positioned my sunglasses and body toward the passenger window, concealing quiet tears that slipped away, betraying my efforts to stuff all I was feeling about recent unexpected news on our trip. I tried to distract myself by scrolling on Instagram and watching Instagram Stories. I have followed Emily P. Freeman for a few years on Instagram and saw that she would be speaking at a small event not too far from home. There is was again. Home. We were in Virginia driving south to our home. A ray of hope slipped in as I quickly decided that in 3 days, once we were home, I was going to that event!
The day after the event I went to our Church -The Summit Church at Alamance County, where I rapidly took notes like I was in a classroom during a lecture. I served alongside friends, complete strangers just a few months ago. We drove by a large red brick church and Abigail piped in "Mom, if we had gone to that church, we wouldn't have the friends from our small group. If we hadn't moved here, we wouldn't have any of the friends we have met in North Carolina." And it was soon after, while reading Simply Tuesday, my heart found the words to express how these people we have met, these relationships not only I have made, but Craig and both of our children have made- these are our sacred companions.
They are more than friends. These local shop owners and service providers mean more to us than just that. Our campus staff and their families aren't just people we see on Sunday's making announcements, serving and leading worship. That family in Snow Camp I met at the State Park playground while I was sick and Craig was out of town have become close family friends. Dumping a load of laundry off at our small group leaders house is welcomed and expected. Doing life, sharing our stresses and troubles, helping without asking, putting in a little extra, praying with and for one another, fighting discouragement, checking in and following up- following through. These people who somehow have become part of our lives these last 4 months have become our sacred companions. We store it up in our hearts, we treasure it, we savor the conversations and quiet moments. We do not take this season for granted and are constantly thanking God.
We came to this area hungry for community and a place to get rooted and grow. We came craving sacred companions. I didn't even know how to word it until recently when I peeled open the first few pages of my personally signed copy of Emily P. Freeman's book Simply Tuesday. It was on the last leg of that long journey, as Craig drove our van and trailer through the Shenandoah Valley, and I positioned my sunglasses and body toward the passenger window, concealing quiet tears that slipped away, betraying my efforts to stuff all I was feeling about recent unexpected news on our trip. I tried to distract myself by scrolling on Instagram and watching Instagram Stories. I have followed Emily P. Freeman for a few years on Instagram and saw that she would be speaking at a small event not too far from home. There is was again. Home. We were in Virginia driving south to our home. A ray of hope slipped in as I quickly decided that in 3 days, once we were home, I was going to that event!
The day after the event I went to our Church -The Summit Church at Alamance County, where I rapidly took notes like I was in a classroom during a lecture. I served alongside friends, complete strangers just a few months ago. We drove by a large red brick church and Abigail piped in "Mom, if we had gone to that church, we wouldn't have the friends from our small group. If we hadn't moved here, we wouldn't have any of the friends we have met in North Carolina." And it was soon after, while reading Simply Tuesday, my heart found the words to express how these people we have met, these relationships not only I have made, but Craig and both of our children have made- these are our sacred companions.
They are more than friends. These local shop owners and service providers mean more to us than just that. Our campus staff and their families aren't just people we see on Sunday's making announcements, serving and leading worship. That family in Snow Camp I met at the State Park playground while I was sick and Craig was out of town have become close family friends. Dumping a load of laundry off at our small group leaders house is welcomed and expected. Doing life, sharing our stresses and troubles, helping without asking, putting in a little extra, praying with and for one another, fighting discouragement, checking in and following up- following through. These people who somehow have become part of our lives these last 4 months have become our sacred companions. We store it up in our hearts, we treasure it, we savor the conversations and quiet moments. We do not take this season for granted and are constantly thanking God.
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| Just hanging out at a friends house doing my laundry, while they are out of town. |
Love this and how God has met your needs for community in unexpected- but perfect- ways!
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