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The swell of spring and new life awaits

March 30, 2012 By Kelli 3 Comments

Florida spring is beautiful. Crisp mornings give way to hot days signaling summer’s swift descent. But as we await the sweltering days, I’m struck by the new life springing up around us. Even in Florida, when nothing goes dormant, spring brings a pleasant crop of welcome change.

Spring also means that swimming season is upon us.

Speaking of new life, my cousin Summer brought home her two sons from Ethiopia just five months ago and in a few short weeks she will welcome a daughter into the world. The ladies of the family gathered together to celebrate this much prayed for baby girl last week.


May your weekend be filled with sunshine, flowers and the welcome relief of a warm breeze.

Filed Under: Adoption, Florida, Photography Tagged With: , , ,

Friday Fotos

March 23, 2012 By Kelli 8 Comments

Are you all not completely blown away by my stellar titles this week? Pure genius.

A few photos fotos for you this Friday morning. These were all taken by our friend Sarah who, along with her friend Kristiana, spent the week loving on our family. Awesome? I think so.

Check out those tiny little muscles. My four year old is ripped.

Sweet girls

We have watched this sweet girl grow up and love her so much.

Happy weekend, everyone!

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Friendship, Photography Tagged With: , , ,

The perfect blendship

February 20, 2012 By Kelli 23 Comments

It’s amazing what happens when you move away. Friendships change. It’s inevitable, of course. Not seeing someone every day or every week is bound to altar the dynamics of any relationship, but I’ve found in the times I’ve moved that I’m always surprised at the way the meaning of a friendship can change shape.

I’ve also found moving to be an amazing barometer of the significance that friendships play in your life. The people you miss the most are not always the ones you thought you’d miss the most. The people who reach out and make the effort to maintain a relationship take you by surprise because, sometimes, they aren’t the people you thought would reach out.

And then there are times when you have a friendship so deep that you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that that friendship will withstand the miles that grow between you.

I am blessed by such friends. So very, very blessed. And this past weekend we basked in the love of friendships so deep that the momentary pause between our face to face interactions didn’t even cause a hiccup. It was as though we hadn’t been apart. I have precious few friendships like that and I give praise for each one.

(If you’re a Broadway nerd like me, you’re going to want to listen to this song while viewing the following pictures….)

My dear and precious friend.

A weekend of playing with our friends at the beach, the aquarium and even a Russian birthday party solidified in my heart this lasting relationship. How grateful I am for this precious family.

So what about you? Have you hugged a friend today?

 

Filed Under: Florida, Friendship, Photography Tagged With: , , ,

Playin’ Hooky

February 10, 2012 By Kelli 5 Comments

 

February in Florida is divine.

So much so that I do believe we’re going to play hooky today and spend some time at the beach, because really…what good is home schooling in Florida if you can’t dip your toes in the ocean on a school day now and then, right?

Besides, we learned multiplication (Sloan), subtraction (Tia) and sentence diagramming (everyone) this week. I think we’ve earned a break, yes?

Happy weekending everyone!

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Homeschool Tagged With: , , ,

The Need to be Known

February 5, 2012 By Kelli 6 Comments

We sat in a circle, the porch lit up by a string of lights and the air around filled with youthful squeals and the unabashed laughter of little ones filled with delight. For three hours we sat and when we finally rose, my cheeks ached from the smile stretched wide.

It felt good to be known.

Perhaps the most difficult aspect of this move has been the feeling of having to put on airs. When you walk into a room full of strangers, the natural reaction is to put on a smile and those people aren’t going to know if my smile is fake or not because they don’t know me. It’s not their fault. It just takes time to get to know someone.

But this golden lit circle of people was not a group of strangers. They were family. My aunt and uncle and cousins. The people we vacationed with growing up. We’ve watched one another get married, rejoiced in babies born, mourned in loss.

There is just something comforting and familiar about family. Though I haven’t lived in the same state as my cousins since we were all in diapers, we still hold fast to the bond of family that seals us together. We know each other. We’ve traveled roads together that no one can understand. We experienced heartache and joy that binds us tight and holds us fast.

On the 21st anniversary of one of the deepest hurts our family experienced, we gathered. We didn’t plan the gathering on this specific day – it just happened. And we laughed and loved and relished in one another. Many were missing, and how I wished they all could have been there, but for Lee and I the meeting was perfect. We needed to laugh. We needed family.

Sitting with them late into the night, Lee and I didn’t have to pretend and my family didn’t expect a mediocre answer. When they asked how we were doing, we told them. This is hard. Moving is stressful in a lot of ways and the last six months have been the most trying of our entire married life.

It was cathartic to share – to be able to open up and be honest. The rest of the evening was spent laughing…hard.

Our kids ran around, screaming and shrieking, delighting in one another the way my cousins and I did when we were little. It was so good and so sweet to be known. Like walking through a fountain after traveling the desert. Refreshing and cool, Lee and I came home rejoicing.

And tonight, as two teams I didn’t care about played for a title that meant nothing to me (I just broke some hearts…I’m sorry), we talked and laughed with friends. New friends who, over the last few weeks, have allowed us to open our hearts and share and laugh and cry, and old friends who not only know us from back home, but who also know well the path we’re on right now.

They’re on it too.

I have asthma and on the days when breathing in is just a little more difficult, I always relish in that one moment when I’m finally able to fill my lungs fully. My head spins a little and the panic that has begun to well up dissolves as I can finally take a much needed deep breath and I can actually feel the oxygen circulating through my body.

This weekend was a deep breath. It was needed and we drew it in deep.

My head is still spinning a little.

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Grace, Moving Tagged With: , , ,

Unexpected Blessings

October 2, 2011 By Kelli 19 Comments

When we began our house search in sunny Florida, we initially told our Realtor we did NOT want a pool.  Neither one of us grew up with a pool, therefore the idea of keeping and maintaining one was desperately daunting.

Then we started looking at houses and we realized two things: 1.) Finding a house without a pool in Florida is almost as difficult as finding a house without a basement in St. Louis.  They’re almost standard.  And 2.) Of the few houses we saw without pools, none were desirable enough for us to get excited.

So we ended up in a house with a pool.  And we were nervous.  But no need to fear!  The owner of our local pool store came out free of charge and gave us a “Pool School,” telling us anything and everything we need to know about pool maintenance.  In exchange we plan to give him our business.  And that’s the way you run a successful business, folks!

For our part, we are officially glad we got a house with a pool.  We have used it every single day and will continue to do so until it gets too cold (we don’t have a heater).  The pool has been enjoyable both day and night.

Warning to Grandparents! The following photos contain images of your grandchildren being flung to precarious heights.  View at your own discretion…

This child of mine is insane. She is going to send me to an early grave.

He's crazy too. But he had sense enough to know his limits. "Dat's too high, Daddy."

She, on the other hand, came out of the water screeching, "Higher next time, Dad! HIGHER!"

This one has, unfortunately, gotten a little too big for maximum flinging...much to his chagrin.

This week has been full of unexpected blessings.  Walking the dog last night, I looked up and the sky took my breath away.  Our neighborhood is far enough outside of the city that we get an unpolluted view of the night sky.

Spectacular.

Our neighbors are fun, friendly and have boys who love to play football.

Our house, minor quirks aside, is really coming together and feeling like home.

Home Schooling is going really, really well.

Today were the Powerboat races at Clearwater Beach.  With temps in the upper ’70′s it made for the perfect ending to a lovely weekend.

So many blessings.

Front row seats to the race. It's kind of difficult to get a photo of Landon in the water because he's always upside down. I'm pretty sure the kid's got gills...

I pray you all have a blessed October week!

Is anyone else totally freaked out by the fact that it’s October?! The holiday season is upon us, folks.  How did it get here so fast?!

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Life, Moving Tagged With: , , , , ,

Scenes from a Summer

August 16, 2011 By Kelli 1 Comment

 

Lots of fishing

 

Kayaking with Daddy

Tia's Catfish

Fun in the sun makes for good naps

Song by the lovely Rebekah Sullivant.

Filed Under: Family, Florida, Kids, Life, summer fun Tagged With: , , , ,

Insignificant

August 15, 2011 By Kelli 8 Comments

Post edit: I wrote this post several days ago and for a number of reasons decided to wait before publishing.  I worried that it would sound like I was fishing for encouragement.  I realize that many of my recent posts have been bemoaning our move to Florida.  I’m sorry for that.  This move has been more emotionally exhausting than I ever dreamed it could be.  Thanks for your patience in letting me process in this space.  I promise I won’t always talk about moving.  I’ve got other things rolling through my head right now – get excited!  I mean…ya know…if that sort of thing excites you…*sigh*  I’m a dork.  Read on…

You remember that awkward time in your early teens when you were gawky and moved clumsily through each day like a Great Dane on crack?

Remember those days?

Do you recall looking in the mirror at your oily, marked skin and wondering if you would ever grow into your nose and OMG why did your hair always look so weird and would your teeth really be straight when you finally got all that metal off of them?

Did you ever wander through your days back then feeling small and insignificant?

I mean, I didn’t, of course…but did you?  Ahem.

I remember one conversation in particular.  I was twelve and we had recently moved from Wisconsin to St. Louis.  I felt lost in this new and foreign town.  While I still harbored a small crush on the New Kids on the Block (Jordan and Joey...sigh), the people in my new classroom considered them soooo 1991.  How did I know this?

We were in 6th grade art class and “The Right Stuff” came on the radio.  I, of course, began humming along softly and suddenly the class macho man – let’s call him Troy for kicks because I honestly don’t remember his name – popped his head up.

“Who’s singing along to this song?” he demanded, his eyes scanning the room.  I immediately froze and look up wide eyed and innocent.

“The New Kids are stupid,” he declared and everyone laughed and nodded in agreement.  And thus ended my love affair with all things New Kids (publicly anyway).  Tragic, indeed.

This incident combined with several other prepubescent crises caused me to come home and fling myself on the couch.  It was totally melodramatic and very Disney Princess. “I don’t mean anything to anyone here,” I wailed, my hand over my eyes.  My mom sat quietly next to me, just listening.  After a few minutes, she finally spoke.

“You mean something to me,” she said.

I’d like to tell you that I smiled and leapt into her arms in a true After School moment, but I’m pretty sure I just huffed and rolled my eyes and muttered something incoherent about how she was only saying that because she had to and so on…

I was a peach.

But that conversation never left me.  I bet she doesn’t even remember that moment, my mom.  But I do – I remember.  Because even though I didn’t really accept it, I knew that I mattered to someone.  At twelve, I needed to know that.

I’m not twelve anymore.

Obviously.

But moving has brought on that feeling of insignificance once more.  The other night we watched the most beautiful, glorious sunset I’ve ever seen.  Seriously in all my life, I’ve never seen anything like it. And as I watched God paint the sky in brilliant purple and orange, I realized something.

I’ve felt insignificant since we moved here.  Small.

Things happened and came about during the move that I didn’t foresee or expect and as I’ve dealt with those things, I’ve found myself shrinking back against the tapestry before me.  And I’ve felt terribly insignificant.  Suddenly, all the things that gave me comfort and…well…significance have been stripped away leaving me with nothing but my husband, children and a few earthly possessions that are easily within grasp.  I tried to convince myself that these things should be enough.  I don’t need any more than that in life, right?

Wrong.

I mean, I guess if I wanted to give the Sunday School answer, I would solemnly say, “All I need is my Jesus and my family.  Nothing else matters.”  But that’s not true.  Relationships do matter.  Taking care of my home does matter.  Being in fellowship with others and taking part in a community matters.  It matters to me.

I didn’t realize how small I felt until I was swept up in the glory of that sunset.  And it made me emotional.  Sad, even.  I just felt so small.

Not that this move has been all stressful, of course.  In the past few days, I’ve been overcome with peace regarding some of the bigger aspects of the move.  Schooling, housing, etc…These are things that have caused a bit of stress in the last few weeks, but today, I feel nothing but rest when I think of them.

The other day, however, as I watched the sun dip beyond the horizon I wondered how I could feel such a combination of emotions.  Peace mingled seamlessly with insignificance.  And in a last burst of orange, the sun disappeared and I suddenly felt like that twelve year old girl lying on the threadbare couch once more.  Only this time, I felt the Lord sitting over me and smiling gently.

“I don’t have anyone to share my heartaches and joy with,” my soul whispered.  “I feel like I don’t mean anything to anyone here.”

And the breeze caressed my face as the sky grew darker, orange fading to deep blue and finally to black.  “You have Me,” I heard deep inside.

And I do.  I also have the many who are loving us from afar and online and I thank you all for that.  Sincerely and truly from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for loving our family.  I have received several emails from people I don’t even know that have lifted my spirits in ways I can’t express.  And the phone calls from old friends have served as a constant reminder that I am loved and blessed.

I will still feel small from time to time, I suppose, but isn’t that a good thing?  Being stripped of all the things that gave me a sense of identity leaves me with nothing left but Him.  And for the first time in a long time, I think I’m okay with that.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Moving Tagged With: , , ,

Sunsets with Friends

August 14, 2011 By Kelli 9 Comments

The doorbell rang and I answered, my four month old tucked snugly in the crook of my arm.

“Trick or Treat,” he cried, thrusting out his bag.  He was three, dressed as a Power Ranger…or something like that.  I pulled Sloan close and tossed some candy into the bag, his eager little face lit with joy.  Sloan was dressed as a lion.  Cruelly, I had even drawn whiskers on his chubby little infant face.

“Hi, I’m Carol,” she said reaching around the stroller to shake my hand.  I also shook her husband’s hand and cooed over their brand new baby girl.  We were fairly new to the neighborhood.  Having only moved in a week after Sloan was born, I had spent the first several months in first time parents survival mode.  I didn’t know many neighbors.

But here they were on my doorstep.  And over the next few years, our relationship deepened.  We borrowed sugar and eggs and carpooled to preschool.  We celebrated birthdays and mourned the loss of beloved pets.  We loved and lived and grew together.  We created memories in the cul de sac and a beautiful thing happened:

Our children developed lifelong friends.

Three months ago, Carol came over and sat with me on my back porch.  I forgot to mention one other shared love we had with these dear neighbors and friends:

Florida.

“So we’re really feeling like God is leading us to Florida,” she said.  And I stared back my mouth gaped open.  “Um…Lee is in Tampa right now interviewing for a job,” I told her.  They were words I hadn’t been able to utter to anyone else.

“We’re thinking about going to Tampa too,” she said with a smile.

Saturday night we sat together and watched our children play as we’ve done countless times over the last eight years.  Only this time…they were playing at the beach.  Mike and Carol moved into their house last week.  When it’s all said and done we will likely live within 15 minutes of one another.

One of the biggest surprises in this move has been the fear that crept in and pounced upon us like a lion in the night.  We weren’t prepared to confront the attack.  The questions that came up sent us into a tailspin.  Did we make the right choice?  Are we really supposed to be here?  What were we thinking?  Will life ever feel normal again?

The deepest sadness I felt was saying goodbye to the people who had known my children since the day they were born.  People who visited us in the hospital and watched our children grow from chubby babies to tall, lanky little people.  There is something special about having your children surrounded by people who have known them from day one.  And I mourned the loss of that.  Our move here felt like the end of such a blessing.

Why do I worry?  Why do I fear?

This weekend, God gave us what can only be described as a miracle.  We had a perfect sunset in the place that is to be our new home with comforts from our old home.  By our side were people who had known our children from infancy.  They’ve watched our children grow and we have watched theirs.  And our hearts rejoiced as all those questions melted into the ocean with the sun.  Rays of hope splayed across the sky.

As daylight faded into darkness and the past faded into tomorrow, I once again heard the whispers. “I was here before you and I will remain.  The path is laid out before you and blessings abound.”

And we did count our blessings that night.  They were wrapped in the rhythmic waves of the ocean, full of giggles.  Friends from afar brought near.  Love poured forth.  Peace beyond what we can understand.  Grace and mercy in the sand – dancing in the moonlight.

A lifetime of memories still to be made.

Anybody else want to join us?

 

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Life, Moving Tagged With: , , ,

Signs

July 27, 2011 By Kelli 19 Comments

We rolled into Florida today, my smokin’ hot minivan dragging a bit under the weight of all the life shoved inside.  It has been an emotional roller coaster, this trip into town.  Of course any move is fraught with emotion.  Change hurts.  It’s hard.  Tears must be shed in order to cleanse the soul of the fire that rages in your heart.

As we talked today on our second day of driving, we discussed the Why. Why did we make this move?  What purpose did God have in picking our family up out of everything comfortable and placing us smack dab in the middle of the unknown.  For all practical purposes, this is our wilderness.  Albeit a wilderness with a beach (the best kind), but nonetheless this is our journey.

Why are we here?

Suddenly the reasons for the move become clouded beneath the emotion.  Did we make the right choice?  Was this really the path we were supposed to take?  Did we somehow misread the signs?  Were we instead chasing our own desires, or own passions?

Why?

While at my in-laws this past weekend, we had the blessing of soaking in their wisdom for several days straight.  One thing my father-in-law (one of the three wisest men in my life, my dad and my husband rounding out the trio) said to us has really stuck with me.

“What makes you think,” he said in his thick Arkansas drawl, “that you had anything at all to do with this decision?  It was God who moved you in this direction.  Don’t forget that God is in full control.  When you are seeking Him, you’re not going to make a mistake.”

What freedom that gave us.  And what a wonderful lesson on which to dwell.  Who are we to question the will of God?  There were times when doubt caused us to wonder if, perhaps, we should scrap the plan all together – flee back to St. Louis.  It’s peaceful there, simple.  We know it.  We know what we can and need to do there to stay comfortable.

But then what?  Comfort is boring.  As we drove today, the Cyprus and Palm trees buzzing by our windows, I held a book in my lap.  “Reading the same page of a book over and over is boring,” I told Lee.  “You have to turn the page to see what’s going to happen next in the story.”

We turned the page when we left St. Louis.  Not that staying there would have meant our story stagnated, but ignoring God’s call and being unwilling to face something new would have been extremely boring.  To live life wondering “what if we had?” would be a terrible burden to bear.  And even on our trip, the Lord gave us little signs that we are on the right path – we are continuing our story.

Lee was given the opportunity to fly up to Arkansas to be with his family and to help us drive down here.  An unexpected blessing and something we didn’t know we needed.  Lee got a very encouraging call from his manager.  It was unexpected and unprompted.  And the words spoken and messages exchanged were a balm to the soul.

As we lay in our frigid hotel room last night, everyone slowly drifting to sleep, Sloan hopped up out of bed and came over to Lee and I.  “I have something for you,” he said, the freckles on his nose dancing in the golden lamp light.  He pulled two silly bands off his arm.  They were shaped like palm trees.  “These are to help you remember that we used to live in St. Louis, but now we live in Florida.”

How did he know that was the exact thing tearing at our hearts?  We hadn’t spoken of our fears and heartache in front of him.

When we pulled out of the hotel parking lot this morning, the kids screeched and pointed at a beautiful rainbow painted across the gray sky.  God’s promises never fail.  He is still the same.  All of these signs worked together to provide a bit of comfort as we continued to haul our lives southward.  Nothing about this move has been easy.  A part of me feels a bit like a spoiled brat who’s finally been given what she wanted, but it’s not enough.

“I want it MY way.”  Foot stomp.

I want comfort and stability.  I want the perfect house.  I want it easy and fun.  I want friends.  I want, I want, I want…

The new goal is to take my eyes off of what I want.  Together Lee and I are changing our focus.  We’re turning the page.  We want to know what’s going to happen next.  And we want to know what part we get to play in it.  To His glory.  Arms stretched out wide, palms open, dancing in the rain.  What’s next?  And how do we keep our eyes pointed up?  Not looking backward and definately not staring inward.

Not about us.

What’s next to His glory?

This is really hard.  Really, really hard.  As my sister-in-law told us the other night – this is a threshing.  It’s a step into the Refiner’s Fire.  The selfishness that has pervaded our souls for a long time needs to be burned away.  There is nothing fun about that.  Nothing at all.  We are feeling vulnerable and the only refuge is God Himself.  To seek any other would be foolish.  There is no hiding – not even St. Louis could shelter us from the need to change these deepest parts.

Join us as we step forward in faith, our hearts open to what He wants and longs for us.  And we would like to join you in whatever journey you might be on.  What does a next step look like for you? Because we’re all on a different journey. How can we pray for you?  What would stepping out of comfort look like for you?  Who can you serve?  What can you do to step outside of what you know?  Or, if you’re already doing that, what are you learning?  If you would like to share or ask for prayer, please feel free to comment and we can all join together.  Or send me an email (kellistuart00 (at) hotmail (dot) com) and I will be happy to lift you up as you turn your face up.

Let’s dance in the rain together.

Blessings.

Filed Under: faith, Family, Florida, Life, Minivans, Moving Tagged With: , , ,
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