One Year Ago...

I'm stressed out.  I'm worried sick.  I'm constantly doubting.  I keep myself awake at night concerned over making ends meet, paying off debt, putting food on the table, keeping my kids alive/well/healthy/happy, and maintaining a faithful front that believes above all else that my God is bigger than it all.  (Anyone relate?)

How far have I fallen?  How short is my memory?  How foolish is my soul?  How flimsy is my courage?  How flailing is my trust?

One year ago today, my family traveled 2,000 on hope, faith, and the prayers of many.  We left the home, friends, and work we knew to start a new life across the country.  We packed up all of our belongings, tearfully hugged goodbye the family that surrounded us, and made the big move from California to Tennessee.

One year ago.

Can you believe it's been a year?  I can't wrap my brain around it.

We didn't have a job.  Really, we didn't even have the prospect of a job.  But, I was enrolled to start grad school last August, so the clock was ticking for us to start planting new roots in a soil rich with mystery.  We had been called to a new life...and God provided.

After a few months of unemployment, living off prayers, credit, savings, and the gifts of many, our prayers changed from "God, provide a job" to "God, thank you for providing what we need, when we need it".   The words of Paul had never seemed so clear:

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.    Philippians 4:12-13

And, God was remarkably faithful, even through our trials of doubt and fear.  He did provide what we needed when we needed it, as He deemed fit, and we are so grateful.  Josh did get a wonderful job, after four months of unemployment, and it couldn't have been more perfect for him.  As we settled into our new state, we look around us and are amazed and bewildered at God's provision in our lives.  These are the moments I am reminded that I simply don't know how people live without Jesus.  I, for one, couldn't have survived it.

Yet, here I am, a stressed out sinner, roaming my own desert like a blasphemous Israelite too shortsighted with inconvenience to remember the Jehovah Jireh that has far from forgotten me.  SOMEONE HIT ME OVER THE HEAD ALREADY!  I'm a spoiled child that's scared of an unknown future, with no record of a past that gives me any evidence to support such fear.

So now, in my disbelief, I turn to the Scriptures of Paul once more:

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:4-7

Do you have doubts? Fears? Insecurities?  I know I'm not alone in this.  There are some days that the need overwhelms the faith and I wonder how it could possibly work out.  And then, I remember back a year...just one of the many examples of God's pure, unchanging faithfulness in my life journey that shows me clearly how I am not forgotten, how I'm NOT in control, how this life is not mine for worrying.

Stress has a way of stealing from present joy.  It exacerbates all concerns and burdens me more than reality.  And, the reality is, the truth is that God is bigger.  God is present.  God is able.  GOD IS, so I don't have to be.

Peace and thanksgiving be with you today, friends.  Thank you for your incredible support over the last year as our family has transitioned through so much.  God has great things for His children, and I'm grateful for the vulnerability to share my journey with you - the gift of a growing faith is fragile and often ugly, but I'm blessed to show you an honest heart amidst the doubts, and the unchanging Word of God that proves beyond all reason that God cares.

Whatever your journey today...rejoice.

Ace Is Wild

I tend to fit in wherever I go.  This is because my usual spots consist of home, church, school, and our neighborhood McDonald's with the grimey indoor playground my kids can't get enough of.  So, when my husband and I recently jet-setted for the weekend to Los Angeles, we decided to make the most of it and stay at the swankiest downtown hotel recommended to us.

The ACE Hotel opened in downtown LA (#dtla) just a few months ago, and it is no doubt the diamond in the rough on Broadway.  This part of the city has changed a lot in the last several months, and it is still in the early stages of its hipster re-gentrification.

While Umami Burger and the historic-Rialto-theatre-turned-Urban-Outfitters clearly designate this as a hip-among-hip part of town, Broadway is still home to many suffering souls huddled on the sidewalk and dilapidated office spaces waiting to be turned into the next Anthropologie or two-story H&M (it's really only a matter of time).  This is to say, LA wouldn't be LA if it didn't redefine hipster by keeping its dirty roots and taking its own sweet time to develop the next trend.

Headquartered in Portland, ACE also has hotels in New York, Palm Springs, Seattle, Panama, and London.  It seems to have found the perfect location to manifest itself in the historical United Artists building downtown LA.  With a vibrant marquee and ornate street front greeting it's guests, there's no question you're about to enter the Narnia of being too-cool-for-school when you walk in.  

As the guy dressed in flannel plaid and skinny jeans introduced himself as our bellhop, I could immediately tell I was not nearly hip enough for this place.  (Which only enticed me all the more.)  I get it, guy with the bolo and blonde mustache, and I am just going to play the part and let you think I don't have two kids back home who are probably watching Mickey Mouse and eating Tinkerbell fruit snacks right now.  

The black and white glam-deco lobby was sporadically spotted with little whimsical sketches.  There was a fat kitty in a bow-tie drawn over the elevator, a chubby bear falling with a cup of coffee between doorways, and little palm trees dotting the landscape up to the high ceiling above.  

This dose of silliness amidst the spectacular architecture was a sure sign to take a deep breath and enjoy my stay; nothing was to be taken too seriously in a place where hand-drawn animals were spying down.

The room we stayed in was pleasant, with the best part being the exquisite attention to detail.  I'm a total sucker for attention to details.  The tv screen said "Welcome to your room, Emily Pardy" and even the tiniest of items had some kind of ACE font/logo scripted on it.  

The colors were calm and consistent.  The lines of the room were minimal and clean.  The entire room was a crisp combination of industrial (concrete exposed floors and ceilings), post-modern/euro (blocks of muted color with sufficient, well-utilized space, but compact at best) and art deco (gold hardware, black lacquer, splashes of ornate detail hidden in the historic leftovers here and there).

The bed was cozy, the robes were divine (like giant, body-sweatshirts), and the service was fantastic.  While the ACE details were simply impeccable (hey, I worked just long enough in marketing to fall in love with typography and consistent branding) it felt polished, not pushy.

The feel of the experience was upscale, with just enough pretentious notes to make me feel like I got my money's worth.  And, while I didn't get to try the food at their slick eatery, LA Chapter located just off the lobby, I did partake in the Stumptown coffee (a nod to their Portland roots) offered at the adjacent bar. 

The rooftop bar, however, was a few steps beyond our cool factor.  While the view from the top was the stuff Hollywood dreams are made of (Hello, Skyline. Hello, hot tub.  Hello, that one B-celebrity that we recognize but can't quite place) the scene was still a bit loud and crowded for my taste.  

Thirty-something singles who can't remember they're not in their twenties anymore filled the rooftop long after their bedtime (Go home and watch Fallon, people).  But, I'd imagine the daytime being far more inviting with such a primo location (I didn't get a chance to see it in the sunshine).

Let's be honest.  We don't get out much.  This hotel is definitely in the top five of amazing hotels Josh and I have ever stayed at (the Roosevelt, another iconic place to stay in Hollywood, also ranking high among the list) and it was a refreshing getaway to play ultra-cool hipsters for the weekend.  All in all, it was totally worth it.  And, it was a great reminder to spend moments with the love of my life sharing experiences that usually only pre-kid-having-with-extra-money-spending-yuppies tend to splurge on.  

It's okay to reach beyond your cool factor now and then!  And while we felt like parents-in-the-wild who got loose from our cage of homeostasis, it was invigorating to stay somewhere we didn't totally fit in.  

If you're considering a weekend away, I say just Go for it, and take a chance on an experience you didn't think you'd ever share as a couple.  Travel beyond your norms and hold each other's hands like teenagers again.  Book a room with your spouse somewhere, and just get OUT for a night or two.  You might find yourselves sipping espresso, staring at silly animal sketches, totally giggling at how you are geeking out on the bellhop's bolo.  

It might be wild, and I think that's just aces.

...Six Months Later

We have officially lived in Nashville for half a year!  Can you believe it?

Only six months ago we drove our entourage into this new city and called it our own.  We traveled over 2,000 miles with two toddlers and all our belongings and no job and staked claim on a new life that we fully entrusted to God.  We were full of more questions than answers, with weary hearts that grieved the loss of our friends and family in California, and excited souls ready to embrace a new chapter ahead.

Having moved across the country four times now, I thought I knew what to expect.  I tell myself that it takes time to make friends, to get to know my way around, to be patient with finding a church to call home, to not hold my breath when it comes to waiting until it feels like home home and not just some place I now have to ship all my Amazon packages to.  I've always told people that I feel like it takes a good two years before a new place feels familiar or comfortable.

But, I have to tell you, this has been the easiest move of my life.  Nashville is home.

Six months is a blink to be able to say something like that.  It feels like when I was dating my husband and falling head over heels before I could look him in the eye without giggling or wanting to burst into song.  It may have been too soon to say "I love you"...or get engaged...or get married...but, when it's right it's right.  And my move to Nashville feels like a nice old sneaker that's come back into style.  It feels right, looks great, and just fits.  Ahh.

The Pardys are loving Nashville.

Don't get me wrong.  I miss California desperately.  I miss my friends the most, of course, and there are times I weep just by texting them or seeing a Facebook update from someone.  [I'm tearing up now just thinking about it!]  In a perfect world, all my favorite people would be in ONE place, or we would own private jets, or we could all teleport!  In my ideal universe, the ocean would be 15 minutes away, there would be no traffic, and I would have a standing date with my best friends each week no matter where they lived.

But, if I can't have everything I want all in one place, I can sit still and be so grateful that I get to have it all on one globe.  To think that people fiercely love me and pray for me and my family from miles and miles away is such an incredible gift that it makes friendship over distance totally worthwhile.  (Also, not having to ever sit in LA traffic is pretty great too! Haha)

We've already learned so much since being here.  We've seen God break us, heal us, challenge us, push us, and humble our hearts in multiple ways.  I've started grad school, Josh has a new job, and the girls are thriving in their new environment and going to start preschool one day a week next year.  We are busier than ever, depending on God more than ever, and excited about our future as a couple and family.  God has already brought amazing hope in new friendships and surrounded us with encouragers that point us to Jesus.  We are grateful to have found a wonderful church and looking forward to deepening more relationships in the new year.

Six months goes by so fast.  Just a year ago I was studying for the GRE and just beginning the application process to grad school.  Our daily lives have changed dramatically, and I miss the interactions in our old community with the people we "lived life with".  But, as I hold those memories and reflect on what a treasure that time in California was for us, it makes me all the more eager to wonder what is in store for us here.

What are you most excited about in the coming year?  How has your life changed in the last 6 months? Year?

As we countdown the days to Christmas and the New Year ahead, join me in thanking God for getting us through the ups and downs of 2013.  The fact that we are all here, supporting each other and living life "together" even in this small way is a testament to His faithfulness in the days ahead.

Last Leg

BACKTRACK here and read about our ROADTRIP.

We were more than halfway there.  We just picked up our girls in Kansas – alive and well and bubbling with excitement to get to their new home they’d been hearing about for weeks.  I can only imagine this idea to their little toddler minds.  What did they envision?  What did they fear?  What did they anticipate?

All I could think about was “Just get there.  Just get there.  Just get there.”

Our plan was to drive about 10 hours the first day and get to St. Louis and stay the night at a nice hotel as a family, then we would only have about 6 hours to cover the next day before moving into our new home.  It was a good plan, but another flat tire brought a major time setback, and so it was 9pm before we checked into the hotel.  I don’t think the girls crashed in bed before midnight.  Oy.

crazy girls...crazy TIRED girls

The hotel was great (I would highly recommend the Drury Plaza at the Arch in St. Louis if you ever find yourself there) but we had our sights set on our own home and our own bed and our own everything – and sometimes when you just long for home, it doesn’t matter how nice your surroundings are…if it’s not home, it’s not home.

The next day brought as much frustration as it did fruition.  We were so insanely excited for this final day to be here; and yet, traffic and cranky toddlers have a tendency to obscure joy into pure anxiety.

We had invested in a DVD player for the car prior to the move.  This was gold.  [Insert judgment for my modern parenting skills here.]  It paid for itself tenfold before the first movie even finished.  Still, toddlers want to MOVE and their car seats aren’t exactly designed for energy-expenditure.  By the third viewing of Wreck It Ralph, I thought I was going to lose my mind.  I couldn’t take being asked “Where are we?” one more time.  And this was just about exactly the time we got stuck in traffic.  Again.  Seriously?

Suddenly it seemed like months of preparation had narrowed down to this final tunnel of squandered hope.  I thought I might lose it.  My last nerve was being frayed as we drove on and on and on, until a single vein of trust started pulsing inside me.  “Just get there. Just get there.  Just get there.”

Traffic.  Yuck.

And then, the city appeared.  Two thousand miles of road and fear and mystery and anticipation and anxiety and worry and doubt…now, behind us.  We pulled up to our new apartment complex.  We had never seen it before and not even seen photos of the inside of our apartment.  But, the sweetest sight was my family waiting there to greet us. 

My brother, sister-in-law, and their kids who live just minutes from our new home were waiting with open arms to welcome us to our new life.  My girls ran up and hugged them, and suddenly for the first time I felt a new clench in my heart:  “Finally,” I thought.   “Hugs of hello.”

We were here to stay.

Roadtrip

We just packed up our lives.  We’re moving from California to Nashville, TN.  BACKTRACK here.

Josh and I had a long road ahead of us.  We romanticized the idea of traveling the 1,300 miles to get to our girls on the way to moving to Nashville.  I mean, who doesn’t love the idea of a roadtrip?! 

Road TRIP!!!!  Tunes and snacks galore, not to mention the many mindless hours to just chill and see God’s creation.  It all seems so poetic until you are actually on the road and you just find yourself eating out of boredom and having to pee all the time.  Not exactly the pioneering paradise we dreamt about. 

I’ll admit, I was mostly clinging to my husband’s expectations.  This was actually my fourth time to drive cross-country, and so I knew the lack-luster feeling of just wanting to GET THERE.  As much as I tried to revive the Jack Kerouac in me, I grew anxious and annoyed with each mile, trying to summon my patience with beef jerky and twizzlers. 

We stopped at his folks in Arizona the first night.  That was emotional in and of itself, because it would be the last of the good-byes that fell into the category of “not-knowing-exactly-when-we-will-see-you-next” and I just hate that.  It’s always so much easier to say good-bye when you can at least tell yourself how long it will be until you say hello again.  But, we forged ahead, 6 hours down, and many more to go.

About 13 hours later we ended up in Tucumcari, NM.  We stayed at a crappy hotel (hey, I call ‘em like I see ‘em) where I’m pretty sure there was a coyote graveyard in the back and meth being sold in the ditch out front.  In other words, it was lovely.  But, we survived and showered, and got back on the road as soon as possible.  About 5 more hours into the next day, we got a flat tire on the moving trailer.

Now, let me tell you, if you are going to break down somewhere, you probably aren’t going to want it to be in a place named Hooker (Oklahoma).  But, seeing as we had no choice to the matter, we did break down there.  So, as we waited for Penske to come to our rescue, I climbed up into the moving truck and kept Josh and the cats company.

Ah, yes – didn’t I mention?  We were traversing with 2 CATS.  They were just as giddy about the long car rides as I was (okay, not even that much) and thrilled to be parked on the side of a windy highway where we were suddenly at a halt.  Ugh.  The only thing worse than sitting in a car and traveling at a slow pace is sitting in a car and not moving at all. 

But, we made it.  Penske came to our rescue, changed out the tire, and we were back on the road having lost only our patience and two hours of travel time.  All in all, we were grateful to be in one piece and keeping our cats alive.  Not only that, but we were inching our way closer to sweet reunion with our girls.

I’ve never been happier to see such silly, squealing girls.  They ran out to greet us, and it was like Christmas and my birthday all in one.  They looked bigger and louder and much more happy than I remembered them.  They molded like butter into my arms, and my aching heart that was so empty from all the good-byes in California was urgently bursting with completion. 

Our family was together.  Our family was whole again.  Our family was ready to embark on the final adventure towards our new life.

Nashville or bust.

Backtrack

It’s been too long since I’ve written.  I can always tell when it’s been too long because I start to second-guess myself and avoid the idea of writing and then stalling and stalling and stalling until the inevitable finally occurs.  I can tell it’s been too long when I start to wonder if I should, or if it’s worth it, or if I even need to…when, clearly, I can’t live without it.  So, here I am; enduring and persevering through the insecurities of getting back into the swing of a new normal.

In case you haven’t heard (or are stumbling upon this somehow) I just moved across the country.  Not just me, but my husband and two young daughters (and oh yeah, two cats) as well.  I’ll be rolling out several posts about how this all came about, how we did it, and what life consists of now. 

If you’ve been reading the blog regularly, then you might see a few changes coming.  I’m hoping to start posting more often, though possibly in shorter form.  I, maybe just like you, don’t have gobs and gobs of free time (if you are shrugging at this irrelevance to your own life, then perhaps this blog is not for you after all) and so, I’m hoping to work towards the art of brevity yet meet with you more often.  How does that sound?  (As always, flying by the seat of my jammie pants here.)

Anywho…us Pardys have recently trekked 2,000 miles from California to Tennessee, and are on this-side-of-the-brink of starting a brand, spanking new life.  Crazyville.  It’s still a little much for me to comprehend.

I don’t know where else to start except “move-out day”.  Boy, was it a humdinger.  I had just flown to Kansas to drop my girls off at my folks for a few days while (according to plan) I would fly back to California, load up our lives into a 16-foot Penske truck with my beloved, and haul east.  I had never been away from my girls for more than 24 hours before, so this was new territory for my emotions in a multitude of ways.

I believe this is what you call "to the gills"

Flying back to California was emotional enough.  It hit me upon my descent into LAX that this was, for the last time, my final flight “home to California”.  From this point forward, I would forever be considered a visitor instead of a resident, and that was difficult to accept. 

My husband picked me up from the airport and we set out to have dinner (disregarding that it was already midnight) at our favorite Thai restaurant in LA.  (Please, someone visit Toi Rockin Thai on Gardner and Sunset and send my regards to the Thai Spicy Spaghetti.)  We just had to.  It was our last chance.  Plus, our kids were 1,300 miles away, it just felt wrong to not fit in a date somehow!

When I got home for the last time and walked into our apartment, it became clear to me that I had entered a twilight zone of sorts.  This was not my home.  This was a series of rooms filled with memories and mere remnants of somewhat-recognizable objects.  My emotions were engaged with the location, but my senses were entirely confused by the surroundings.  Boxes and bare carpet.  Disassembled furniture.  Suitcases and cords.  This was a barren land of a life that was ending…and that life was ours, our California life together.  It was sad and weird and uncomfortable.  And it was just the final motivation I needed to force myself to forge through the next 24 hours.  No one would want to stay in that kind of uncomfortability for long.

I won’t relive it entirely.  I can’t.  Waking up the next day to a series of goodbyes and the sheer, physical labor of packing up a moving truck was too much for me to ever want to think about doing again.  It sucked, bottomline.  I had to put my best friends to work, packing and stuffing everything familiar into a giant box on wheels, and then hug them goodbye.  It’s hard to say which I went through more that day – duct tape or tears.  I wanted to take one last look at everyone and everything and engage all my senses into everything I saw so it would be impossible to forget.  I did the best I could.  I hope it was enough to remember.

And then.  Deep breath.  We left.

Tears streaming down my face, I looked out the back window of my car one final time, my sad friends waving and the sun glaring and my vision getting all foggy in my steamy glasses, and I pulled forward and out into the open road that suddenly looked entirely different to me.  The street I had lived on for so many years was now just the road out of town.  It was no longer home. 

Home was many, many miles away.  My heart was going to have to catch-up to it.

Toddlers on the Move

Today is my girls' last full day in California.  Ugh.  While on one hand they are excited to get to their "new home" and see what all this packing fuss has been about, they are also in a weird flux of sadness and discomfort.  It's hard enough for me to process all that is happening right now, so I can only imagine how this drama is interpreted through the lens of toddler-goggles.

I'm no expert in raising children.  I can't tell you what will work best for your child in these circumstances.  But, in talking with other moms and doing a bit of research and learning a LOT through prayer, trial, and error, I have come to find out a lot about living through this massive change with two toddlers.  I've decided to share this experience here as tips on how I've gone about this - in hopes that maybe it will help you come up with your own ideas for how to intentionally go about introducing big changes to your own child - whether that's trying a new vegetable or packing up all their toys and moving 2,000 miles.  For what it's worth, here's how I've handled the last several weeks with my girls.

1. Information.
My daughters are 3 and a half and 22 months, so most of these regard Matilda, my eldest daughter who is just old enough to take in what's happening.  However, both of my girls do best when they are prepped with more information rather than not enough.  In other words, while some parents can sneak out of the house on a date night and their youngster swimmingly adapts to the babysitter's authority...my girls would wage World War III.  They do much, much better if I spend the whole day prepping them with info on how the night will pan out.

That being said, when I first started telling friends about our big move to Nashville, I caught myself constantly talking past my children.  I would whisper in conversation with friends or avoid eye contact with Matilda as I told others of our plans.  I feared introducing the subject too soon might be too confusing or cause undue drama too far in advance.  But, soon I started to see that she was very contemplative and starting to shut down if I "talked around her" too much.  She was left out, and she knew it.  She didn't know what she was being left out of, she only knew that she didn't like the feeling, and I began to sense a wall being put up.  Nobody likes being talked around, even a toddler.  And maybe I wasn't giving her enough credit.  So, we decided to tell her early.

Here's my tip:  Talk early, talk often, talk calmly.  Just because there may be a lot of emotions tied to a change doesn't mean you have to deal with all those emotions at once.  Telling Matilda about the move weeks in advance gave us time to answer her questions (again and again and again) and talk about it positively and thoroughly long before boxes and duct tape scattered our living room.  Erring on the side of too much information also allowed me the time to process how she was understanding everything.  I would hear her relay the information to her sister and then began to see how she was taking it all in and interpreting it.

2.  Process
Figuring out how to get my toddler to process all this new information was another story.  I prayed and prayed to know how to explain to a three-year-old that she would say goodbye to the only home she's ever known, all her friends here, and yet her family would remain intact and there would be safe and familiar things to surround her on this new adventure.  How would she understand that some things stay and some things go?  How would she feel secure and adapt?  How could I make this inevitably difficult experience as manageable as possible?

Then, one night, I got the idea (thank you, Lord) to make a photo book in story form for her that would explain the entire journey.  The plan for our move is that I will fly out with the girls and take them to my parents house in Kansas.  Then, after a couple days of familiarizing them there, I will fly back to California alone, and help my husband pack up the moving truck and forge ahead via road trip!  We will meet up with the girls in Kansas, pick them up, and continue another day and a half on to Nashville.  Whew!  (You can see why I value your prayers so much!)

This is a LOT to understand for a little brain!  So, I wanted a consistent story.  Something that she could see visually and hear again and again until it stuck.  Luckily, God created toddlers with an incredible ability to soak up information in this way!  I gathered photos off Facebook and the internet, wrote a short story of our exact journey from here to Nashville, and even included photos of the outside of our new home.  Yes, it may seem a bit extreme.  Yes, it took a few hours to throw together.  But, after reading it again and again, I can tell you it has been totally worthwhile.  Now, Matilda reads it to Daphne and can tell you how the whole journey is laid out ahead of her.

We will find out for sure in the next few days just how well she has absorbed that information.  I know that there will still be questions about where her toys and friends are for weeks to come.  I know that she will have confusion no matter what.  I know that I can't buffer everything so that it makes perfect sense to her.  I know that she is a toddler.  :)  But, my goal isn't to downplay what is happening or avoid tears or questions.  My goal is to help her understand and help her feel understood.

3. Closure
Finally, tomorrow as we pack the remainder of their little belongings into a suitcase and blow kisses into the California sun, I hope to bring my girls a tiny sense of closure for the chapter in their lives they spent here.  I want them to not only say goodbye to their friends, but their rooms and their little yard too.  Sadness is okay.  Sadness is allowed.  Sadness is a perfectly normal response to change, and I want them to witness it in me and see that it is something honest and human and expressible.  You don't have to be sad or cry necessarily, but it's not an emotion that needs to be suppressed either, and I just want them (yes, even at this very young age) to feel the security of knowing sadness is okay.

One reason I think this is important is that it allows them the ability to recognize the best thing about sadness:  that it is temporary.  There is incredible security in learning that while sad things are inevitable in life, hope exists.  It is very sad to leave California, but with that change comes much excitement and anticipation of joy in things to come.  Closure is sort of an impossible thing to actually discuss with a toddler, but not impossible to demonstrate.  My girls watch and imitate me to a frightening degree, and so it's important for me to have them witness my own process in taking the time to say goodbye, be sad, and then be excited and hopeful and happy again.  I have complete confidence that God will use this experience in all our lives to remind us of how He protects and provides for our family.


I'm amazed at the resiliency of children.  I love their wild questions and hopeful courage.  I love that they hug without abandon and wholeheartedly just feel.  As usual, I often learn more from them than I think they gain from me, and that is always an awesome and unexpected blessing.

It's gonna be a tricky journey.  I don't know if there is any easy way to force adaptation on a person, no matter how welcome the change may be.  We're in transition, and all I can be is trusting in my faithful God who continues to lavish grace on my life.  Thank you, Jesus, for leading us in this crazy life!

Now, if only they made bubble-wrap for the heart.

Seven Years

On Saturday, some of our dearest friends are throwing us a "Bon Voyage" party at the park near our home.  EVERYONE is invited - so, if you know us well enough to hug us, I hope to see you there!  And, just to entice you to come and get that Pardy hug in before we make our grand departure (we're still here 2 more weeks in case you can't make it, btw) I've put together a little "Cali Short" to capture our time here. (Yes, go grab the tissues before you hit play.  You've been warned.)

I did this for just a few reasons:  first, because I was driving to Target one afternoon a few weeks ago and that catchy Lumineers song came on the radio and all of a sudden I caught a vision of everything that had happened to my life in the last seven years since living in California, and tears started streaming down my face in sheer thanksgiving for all I had experienced.

Also, because there was no way to name each and every person who has known us from the beginning or impacted our lives significantly, or blessed us beyond all measure - the list is just too long.  Because sometimes when you look back on the sum of your blessings it brings renewed hope for the unknown of what is to come.  Because too much has happened not to share.  Because I needed a creative outlet for coping with the emotions of this process.  And finally - because I can't completely capture the last seven years in any kind of tangible way to truly describe to people all it has meant to me - but, heck if I'm not gonna try.

Enjoy. xoxo