Moving | Page 3 | Minivans Are Hot

July 24, 2011 by Kelli

He didn’t want to try it. Fear prevented him from true joy, from enjoying to the fullest that which stood before him. The vibrant blue waters of the pool were enticing and he tasted the joy when he stepped into the water.

But fear held him back.

He couldn’t bring himself to put his face in the water. The fear of the unknown was too much and so he simply watched in longing. Every once in awhile he put his chin beneath the surface, delighted to feel the cool water – such a contrast to the blazing heat of the sun. If, by accident, water splashed into his eyes he cried and dashed for a towel, wiping it away before realizing how refreshing it could actually be.

I wondered if he would ever overcome this fear. I wondered if he would ever experience the miracle and joy that comes with taking the plunge and diving beneath the surface. I wondered if he would ever realize that conquering fear leads to freedom.

And then one day he did it. He stepped off the edge and took a leap of faith. Faith that he wouldn’t sink, but would indeed return to the surface as promised. Faith that fun awaited if he just took a chance. And do you know what happened?

Photo courtesy of my sister-in-law, Becke'

Inexplicable Joy. Freedom. And he hasn’t looked back.

We’re stuck in the in-between right now. We’re in Arkansas for a week visiting family, which simply feels like any other vacation. I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that we won’t be going back to St. Louis from here.

We head to Clearwater to stay in my parent’s condo until we either find a house or decide to rent. That, too, will feel like a familiar vacation, which in the past has always ended in us returning home. But Florida is home now. It doesn’t feel that way yet, but that’s what it is.

Mark Twain once wrote, “Change is the handmaiden Nature requires to do her miracles with.” I so hope for miracles as we make this move. What does a miracle look like? I don’t know. Maybe it will be something big and measurable. Maybe it will be something that can’t be seen but only felt…realized only upon looking backward after time has propelled us past this unsure moment.

Maybe the miracle is our willingness to take the plunge – to face our fear of change and dip our head beneath the cool waters of the unknown. We would have been fine splashing in the waters of familiarity, but then we might have missed out on the joy and freedom that comes from taking a plunge beneath the surface.

Maybe the miracle will be my children suddenly waking up each morning with smiles on their faces and nothing but kindness on their lips. Maybe the miracle will be my children sleeping past 6:30 every morning!

I can dream can’t I?

Change leaves your heart and spirit in a vulnerable place. When you’re cut off from the passivity of the familiar, suddenly a whole new world of options are opened before you. There are no schedules to keep up with, no obligations to meet. Those will likely develop quickly, of course, but in the beginning, when life has finally, mercifully, slowed down the prospects of a clean slate leave me excited. What will we finally do that we’ve been dreaming of but lacked the time? What lies in wait for our fragile hearts?

It’s terrifying and exciting and wonderful. A tightly woven ball of “What if?” What if we had the time to finally do that? What if we were closer to finally participate in this? What if we finally set aside the resources to accomplish that dream? What if we watched in grand expectation and looked for the miracles?

While the in-between has given me a touch of vertigo, unsure of which way to turn, it’s also left me excited. I love what ifs. I love to see miracles happen and for the first time in a long time, I’m finally watching for them.

“Change is the handmaiden Nature uses to do her miracles with.”

Have you seen any miracles lately? Let’s share and all join in the excitement!

“For I know the plans I have for. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

For more pictures by my awesome sister-in-law, visit her blog. We’re having some wonderful, sweet cousin time.

On the horizon

July 19, 2011 by Kelli

It’s late and I am weary. I have said my goodbyes and I have cried my tears. A few weeks ago, I thought that this final night in the town that has long been my home would be filled with emotion and anxiety, but right now I feel neither of those things. I think I am done. I don’t have any more goodbyes left and my eyes are, for the moment, dry. My throat isn’t burning and my stomach has finally settled. I’m ready to move forward.

It’s still hard. If I think too long about the people we are leaving behind, the emotion wells up again so I am choosing to not focus on that. What’s the point? It’s time to move forward and you know what?

I’m excited.

It took me a little while to feel comfortable admitting that. To do so somehow felt like a betrayal to the city and the people I love so dearly. But I also dearly love the state of Florida and I am thrilled to be able to call it my home. I’ve always wanted to be a true Floridian (I was born there so somehow I think it’s in my blood). I can’t wait to be close to my family. And the beach. In that order, of course. I’m excited to meet new people and make new friends but, of course, keep the old – I hear that one’s silver and the other gold.

I’m nervous, too.

I wish we had a house to go to. That’s been a bit of a struggle. God has been so faithful in this entire process and every single detail has worked out smoothly and easily and perfectly. Until we began house hunting and then suddenly the flow came to a screeching halt. But one thing I know – He hasn’t forgotten that tiny little detail. And the right house is out there waiting for us.

I’m trying to be patient as I wait for it.

So tomorrow we hit the road. And it’s going to be an adventure. We’ll go to Arkansas first to stay with family for a week. From there we’ll head to the Sunshine State. Just me, three kids and the dog. Alone. I can’t decide who will need to be sedated more – them or me.

I kid.

Maybe.

You’ll never know and I’ll never tell.

St. Louis will always be home. I have duel citizenship. I consider that a blessing. We have been blessed abundantly beyond anything I could have ever asked or imagined in this town. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would so enjoy coming back here after Lee and I had lived in Dallas for two years. We didn’t want to leave Texas either.

Funny how things work out, isn’t it?

Yes, I’m excited to see what comes next. We’re going to be alright. This process, more than any other, has shown me the value of clinging to one another. We have each other. It’s really all we need.

Friends are nice too, though.

I am saying see ya to most of my friends. I value friendship deeply and I am not one to move on and not look back. The people in my past have shaped who I am today. And I value loyalty. To me, friendships are not dispensable. I’ve never fully understood how they could be such to others. And so I look forward to continuing to grow and love the people God has placed in my life, both past and present. I cling to those relationships.

It makes me grateful for Facebook. The value of the internet is also very real to me now.

I do covet your prayers as we travel. Safety, Sanity and other such necessities. And we long to establish ourselves quickly into a new community. A new church family to serve and be blessed by. A new house to make our home and neighbors with whom to create memories. Will you pray for us? And every once in awhile shoot us an email if you’re so inclined. It would bless us greatly to hear from you.

And now I’m off to sleep. Tomorrow a new chapter begins.