It Came, Just the Same...

My heart is happy and so full, tonight.

I read my last post and I actually have to really think to remember the stress we felt so much of, when we first moved, here.  I know it was hard, because that's what I keep telling people; but I don't feel it, anymore.

That's a sweet feeling; not just the lack of stress, but tranquility.

Fall had me feeling a little blue before the feeling of ok-ness set in.  Trees were still green, as was grass, and it was still quite "warm" for October.  I missed the cool, crisp air.  I missed the first few flurries of snow, the smell of homes being warmed by a fireplace, wearing socks and sweats and cozying up in a blanket.  I thought, for sure, this was going to be a sad time of year because it was just so... different.

I decided to go into Christmas, full force, right before Thanksgiving.  Music, movies, decorations... baking, even.

I started out, strong.

I lost the gusto, pretty quick.

It took me a few days to get the decorations up, and this was a few days after I usually do it.  They're still not all up.  I have a strand of lights on a tree in my front yard that has yet to be connected to an outlet.  I felt like I was failing this Christmas thing.

But then, something changed.  Not the lights or the decorations or the frequency of movies.

I think it was my perspective.

We were at our church Christmas party and I inquired about the possible appearance of a notable red-wearing fat guy.  I was told he usually skips this event.

At first, I was slightly upset, by this.  How were my kids supposed to sit on his lap, now?

But then the program started.  There were others who made an appearance, instead.

Angels.  Shepherds.  Wise men.  A man.  A woman.

One by one, they built the story of that glorious night.

No fancy lights were used.  No brightly colored decorations.  Just a simple stable, a manger, and the story - the reason we celebrate Christmas.  It was perfect.

I've seen so much giving since we moved, here.  I've witnessed a community coming together to help a family in dire need.  I've been the recipient of such sweet blessings by those who barely knew me.

I've been blessed with small miracles in my life, helping me know, still, that I am loved by my Heavenly Father.

Christmas is everywhere.  It's in the family we take with us when we move away from all we know.  It's in the hearts of those around us.  It's in the homes of friends who so graciously welcome us in.

It doesn't need snow.  It doesn't need socks or blankets or chimney smoke.  It's there, just the same.

I'm so grateful I still have it.  I'm so grateful for a Savior who was born so we might live.  I'm thankful to a Father who gave His only Begotten Son, who sent Him to this earth to teach us how to give; how to love; how to live.

And I'm so thankful to finally "get" it - that special Christmas-y feeling that is unmatched by anything I keep stored in plastic totes, every year.

Merry Christmas

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times...

Actually, I'm still waiting for the "best of times", part.

Our move to Arizona hasn't had the same finesse our other state-to-state moves had.  Like, at all.

We all started out, here, hating it.  That was the part that came after trying to be excited about moving, AGAIN, and not being entirely too successful.

Then we went from almost not hating it to hating it, even more.

And, if you can believe it, we hated it even more than that.

Then we started sort of liking it.

Ok, it might have been that it wasn't so bad, anymore, because we had a place of our own, again.

Then it started getting bad, again.

Not as bad as before, but not great.

I just found out, tonight, one of my family members is having a harder time than was let on.  So much that it's affecting his/her life and maybe even their future.

My heart is breaking.

Before, it was breaking because I felt I left a big part of it, up north.  I still feel that way, but I also feel I'm slowly starting to put the pieces back together.

But it's breaking, again.  It's breaking because one of my own has a heart that's breaking and I don't know how to put those pieces back together.

I don't know how to help.  I don't know how to fix it or make it better.

I have to give this one to the Lord.  I don't know how to carry it by myself.

We've come so far...

Three weeks, ago, we were unloading a Uhaul in heat we had never, before, experienced.  Perhaps it was the fact that we were still recovering from a three day drive from the top of the nation to the bottom.  Maybe it was because we were attempting the feat without the help of others.  I would even think it could have been because of the position of the sun against the storage unit we were packing to the brim.  Either way, it sucked.  Like, bad.

We had left Montana three days, prior.  We made three stops for sleeping, saw some family, experienced Albuquerque, and conquered at least two massive mountain passes with only one over-heat issue of the Uhaul.  We had more Little Caesar's making it's way through our systems than we care to remember.

Two weeks, ago, it was Labor Day.  The kids were registered for school and we were finishing up school supply shopping and tracking down various pieces of school uniform paraphernalia.  We found the last house on our street (the one we lovingly referred to as the "Old Folks' Home" due to the originality of the carpet, appliances, etc.) had sold.  We thought, for sure, our house would sell before that one.  It didn't.  To say we were disheartened, would be a great understatement.   Much contention betwixt the bread winner and bread maker, ensued.  

One week, ago, was the beginning of a very difficult and trying week for this mother.  My sweet six year old has struggled with this move in his own special way.  He dreaded school.  He was so upset about going that he made himself sick.  (No, really - he was throwing up in the parking lot.)  We met with the teacher and this week was supposed to be better.  It wasn't.  One particular day, stands out from the rest.  I'm not going to go into detail; let's just say I'm very lucky I wasn't turned in to DFS or CPS or whatever it's called, here.  Good times.  By the end of the week, a plan was in place and even proved to be successful.  Thank. The. Maker.

Today.  Oh, today.  Our plans have changed so drastically since we embarked on this journey.  Strangely, we're ok with that; relieved, even.  We're happy.  The stress is mostly gone.  We have a place to be together at the end of the day.  We have a kitchen to prepare food in.  We're supported by a job that is loved so much and has been in the works since 2004.  We have the hope of a home that will be as ours as we need it to be, hopefully in the near future.  We're together.  We've learned a lot about ourselves and each other (and Arizona).  We've been greatly blessed.  The Lord has never left our side.  His plan for us, here, has been slowly unfolding right before our eyes.  We have trusted that plan, even in times of seeming darkness and difficulty.  

Yes, we've come a long way - geographically; spiritually; familially (< not a word) (using it, anyway).

We're a force to be reckoned with.  We are a strong team.

We can do hard things.

Coming Full Circle...

Do you ever have those moments where time sort of slows and you catch a glimpse of the past because of the present?

I had one of those moments.

Strangely, it was just because I attended my six year old's field day, at school.

I saw him, participating in the games.  I saw my daughter, who is now 12, helping with the games.  I was reminded of the times I've watched her being on the participating end.

Then I saw myself.

I remember so clearly those days - the ones that marked the ending of the school year.  I remember the ribbons (that I still have) that were awarded (because, once upon a time, there was such thing as competition).  I remember the racing and the climbing and the everything that was exciting about those days.  I loved those days.

It wasn't an overly profound moment, but it was one that just stopped me for a minute.  I've been thinking about it, ever since, too.  So, even in its simplicity, it encompassed so many thoughts and feelings and memories that it made itself big.

Ah, growing up.  I love the moments when I can tell my kids, "That just means you're growing up on the inside.".

I think I did a little of that, the other day.  I used to be afraid of growing older.  I dreaded it, even.

But, now? Not so much.  I find myself embracing it.  Not necessarily the wrinkles appearing around my eyes, but the memories and hopefully wisdom that comes with those wrinkles.

I love seeing my people, my little family, growing up on the inside, and yes, the outside.  It truly is awesome, in the truest sense of the word, to see these human beings morph into people.

And knowing I have something to do with that is pretty cool.

The Box.

Once upon a time - two years, ago, to be precise - there was a box.

It was the most convenient box, as it had no flaps, so if one were in need of a quick place to stash random anything, it was there with open arms, waiting to indefinitely hold whatever you had to offer.

I took advantage of this box quite a bit over the past two years.  First, it was my "Quick! Hide the mess because we have a showing!" box.  Then, it became my "I'm putting all the important papers to be filed in here because our filing cabinet is in storage." box.  Then it was my "Ugh... I do NOT want to see this or even think about dealing with it, right now, so I'm piling it in here." box.

It became my most dreaded enemy, the elephant in the room, even.  I hated it.  I avoided it.  I moved it from place to place making it seem like I was addressing the issue that was this box.

But, I never emptied it.

Like, ever.

It's because of this box I had to report a birth certificate missing and reorder a new one.

This box has been the bane of my existence since we moved to Montana almost two years, ago.

Lately, I've learned some things about myself that I have found quite troubling.  They've made me feel out of control of something I so desperately wish I had control over.

I had to control something.  Anything.

So, tonight, I did it.  I went through the box.  I emptied it of its contents to find two years' worth of, well, crap.  Receipts, lease agreements, first aid books, report cards, pictures, bills that have long since been paid, and, yes, birth certificates.  (Just not the one I lost.)

We have a fire pit in our backyard that will be very happy, this summer.

And I have an empty box.

Go me.