Post Category → just life

the news:

So, besides the usual activities of snowman-building, cookie-eating, carol-singing, and general good-timing, there was also one rather significant event that occurred during our Christmas holiday:

We put in an offer on a house.

Which was then accepted.

And we are now mere weeks away from ending this process and becoming official homeowners.

Can you imagine how excited and uptight I’ve been, waiting for acceptances and approvals and commitment letters, trying to hold loosely something I very much wanted? You can imagine.

Would you like to hear how this came to be?

You would?

Great!

(You don’t have to read all of this, really; my mom is the only person on the planet who has any sort of obligation to do so, and she already knows the whole story!)

Where shall I begin? I hardly know!

So, in 2007 we moved out here, to gorgeous northern California, to the suburb to beat all suburbs, aka “Middle Class Heaven” (so named by my father.) It really is beautiful, by the way. The ocean, the mountains, the redwoods, the flowers blooming in February — all of it. And this neighborhood really is about as good as it gets. Here, they build 4 million dollar homes around huge redwood trees in the middle of a lot. Half an hour south, they bulldoze it all and build a hundred matching McMansions, but not here. It’s really nice here. And there’s a Trader Joe’s a short walk away.

Anyway, we moved here. Last January, we found a church nearby that we’ve absolutely loved being a part of. Loved. Our sightseeing opportunities have drastically been reduced, thanks to weekends full of hanging out with friends and doing church stuff. The Golden Gate bridge is awesome, but I’ll take pizza with friends any day.

We never thought we were going to be here forever and ever, but we certainly didn’t have any niggling thoughts of leaving anytime soon, nor did we know where we would be leaving to. God’s never been in the habit of sharing His plans with me, I’ve noticed. That’s okay. He’s the kind of driver where you know it’s okay to roll down the window, put your seat back, stick your feet up on the dashboard, and just go with it. Not that life’s always a sunny drive down Coastal Highway 1, but He knows what He’s doing. That’s my point.

Anyway, Ryan joined us halfway through December in New York, and we heard plenty of the usual, “Are you moving back”s and “We just miss you guys so much”s. Which we always appreciate, of course, but as always, we just had to say, “Yeah, we’d love to, we miss you, too.”

But then a couple of people seemed to go out of their way to share such sentiments. People who we wouldn’t expect to spend a lot of time thinking about our future. Others seemed more persistent than usual. And nothing was a blinding light that stopped us in our tracks, but it was adding up to something worth noting. Our hearts were listening.

Ryan started looking at the houses in the area again. He does it regularly, sometimes just for fun, sometimes thinking we could do the landlord thing. We noticed a nice house in town had been quite reduced in price, and since we’d always been curious, we set up an appointment a few days after Christmas. And in the meantime, our hearts were hearing more and maybe even sensing a nudge or two. Hmmm.

So we went through this house. My mom and Nancy helped us dream a little, my sister approved, and when we left over an hour later, we could not believe how much we had felt like this could be home. I fell asleep that night with visions of raising a family in that kitchen. (And I have never pictured myself in any other house. I just am not wired that way.)

We set up another appointment so we could show my dad. And suddenly, we found ourselves in the middle of quite a crazy situation: was the house already sold? Was it available? The details are crazy and the story is long, but at the end, we were free to put in an offer if we so desired.

And so, four days after seeing the house for the first time, and on only our second visit to the home, we found ourselves having to decide if and what we would bid. So much for our ideas of flying back to California and thinking about it! Isn’t this stuff supposed to move a bit slower in the North Country?

We put in our offer. The next morning, with a vomiting baby in tow, we flew back home. We landed, and the rest of the family came down with the same bug. Three days of canceled flights, hotel rooms, violent vomiting and a house full of suitcases later — our offer was accepted.

That, of course, was just the beginning, and it’s been a very busy, very intense few weeks of getting our ducks in a row (we had not been planning on buying a house!) This past Monday, boxes were bought and I began the process of packing. Last night, my mom bought a ticket to fly out soon and help me finish up and fly back.

Back home.

Crazy.

my morning

:: 6:45, my not-morning-person husband wakes me with a tap and an excited whisper: a house will be ours, really ours, soon. (More on that later.)

:: I crawl out of bed, excited about the prospect of a few minutes without kiddos for the first morning in a long time. Call my mom. Be excited about seeing her soon.

:: Coffee into the maker. Granola and yogurt into the bowl. Button’s pushed, now wait.

:: It’s still dark. I light the candle on the kitchen table, check my email on my phone. Coffee’s ready.

:: The first sip warms my chilly insides. Winter mornings are winter mornings, whether you live in upstate NY or Northern California.

:: I sit at the table with breakfast, laptop, and ESV. Sip, skim blogs, baby cries.

:: William is happy to nurse, snooze, and cuddle while I enjoy my granola and Exodus. I’m working my way through the Bible, again. This time, I’m not promising it’ll be in a year. I’m hoping this open-ended plan will be less discouraging.

:: Flip to Galatians 5. Be glad I live by the Spirit.

:: Welcome another little buddy to the table. Time to turn on a light and start the morning, for real. Naturally, that will include the newest tunes from my favorite superstar.

moving “back”

I hope you don’t mind me writing a bit more about this whole moving thing. I know it doesn’t have much to do with general life stuff and may not apply to your life at all — which is more my usual style — but I guess I process life this way, so… do you mind?

The most exciting part of the last month and a half has simply been the sense of the Lord leading us. Most of the time, we’re called to just be faithful — to keep on fulfilling the last orders we received. But every once in awhile, the pillar picks up and starts moving, and it is so exciting to be swept along with its movement.

That’s how this has felt.

I tried to put my finger on a very clear sense one night. I told Ryan, it doesn’t feel like we’re “moving back.” This isn’t about missing good ol’ Mom and Dad, or small town life, or whatever. Sure, we’re thrilled beyond thrilled that being near to family is part of this deal — of course! But there is such an exciting sense of having received our next assignment, of moving ahead. There is a sense of God!

I’m so eager and curious to know how He plans to knit us in. I’ve never lived in the North Country in this season of my life! I don’t know who He’ll bring into our lives, who will become the regulars around our dining room table, how He’ll lead us to get involved in church life, who my kids’ best friends [other than cousins, of course!] will be. God does know, and He’s moving us so that our lives will intersect at just the right moment with others’ lives. Isn’t that amazing?

So yeah. We’re moving back… but actually, we’re moving forward. So exciting.

rainy day + monday = you guess

:: All I can think is that when I got out of bed this morning, I scooted off the end of the bed, rather than swinging my legs over the typical side. The “wrong” side of said bed would explain a lot about my mood today.

:: So would the purple bags under my eyes.

:: A little treat of chocolate chips in a pretty bowl bought in Seville is a welcome bit of cheer.

:: The smell of sauteeing onions and rising bread doesn’t hurt, either.

:: And John Mayer playing. I’m trying to catch up on years of not being very cool. Am I way behind? (That’s sort of a joke. The answer is: hopelessly.)

:: Remember this?

What a fantastic trip that was. I highly recommend Spain in March. (But stay away from Morocco. Those carpet salesmen are wheelers and dealers.)

:: ‘K. That was fun. Back to work.

things i want to remember

:: the patient determination shown by Jameson as he tries to do his own buttons.

:: how William, rather than crying when he stirs at night, has started simply calling for me (in an adorable, somewhat-panicked baby voice), “ma-MA?”

:: Jameson’s pronunciation of pj’s: ja-pe’s, which must mean something in French. And for that matter, the way he says “weet”, “wit”, and “tare-fuw” instead of feet, fit, and careful.

:: William’s jubilation at being able to stand on his own. He isn’t content to just stand for us; once he gets his balance, he throws his [short, fat] arms up in the air and beams.