Seasons can be tough. They can be wonderful and bright and full of joy, or they can be tough or somewhere in between. But when they’re tough, it’s good to remember that seasons are temporary. And whenever I’m in a tough, temporary season I try to remember that I’ve gotten through many seasons and will get through this one too.
Moving to Spokane at the near beginning of winter is something I *don’t* recommend. Although this winter has been notably mild (#thankful), Spokane still lives up to the winter rumor of gray skies and seasonal depression. Most days I remember to take some Vitamin D, but mainly I just shut all of the curtains and turn on as many bright lights as possible to make it feel warm and sunny inside. On top of the lack of blue skies and rainbows, I’ve had a 6-month hiatus from work (what is nursing again?). BUT God is good and works through all seasons, and for that I am thankful. And sometimes in those seasons, He speaks to you through ways and in words you’ve been too distracted to hear or consider. Sometimes we just have to be still. Here’s a little back-story: Some of you may or may not know that I had high ambitions when moving to Spokane. We were finally a normal married couple living in the same city, we bought our first house, and we got a puppy. Everything was happening so quickly and in a blur. And I didn’t want to slow down. I had already done a lot of waiting, and I was done with that. A lot of my ambitions were linked to my career and what I thought was the perfect plan. I just knew I had everything worked out for my time here in Spokane. I had researched this, and I had the timing all right. Every nurse is pushed and urged to get that next degree. So I applied to a DNP-FNP program (for which I still haven’t heard yea or nay). Then almost immediately after applying, I could somehow feel my heart sink, saying no. It’s like I could feel God saying “not your plans, but mine.” And I had a real struggle with this because I had plans, and I didn’t want to slow down or change them (I may be a little stubborn). After some prayer and back and forth wrestling with my thoughts and conversations with friends and family, I found peace with taking a different direction. Because I kept feeling this “not your plans, but mine” pull, and I couldn’t ignore it. This temporary season of dark skies and being still forced me to dig deep and figure out what I am/was doing and why. It forced me to ask myself the tough questions. To look at my life and what matters to me and why it matters. To realize I love being a nurse, and advancing my career right now would change that role completely. To realize that the military is truly unpredictable, and I don’t want to get into a long program that I potentially couldn’t finish in our time here. To realize that time with my husband, pets, family, and friends means more to me than a career can or ever will. All of this paralleled with searching for and finding a new church and spending more time in prayer and in His Word. It’s funny how clarity actually comes when you come to Him rather than yourself. And so began another season of job searches. And man is it hard to sell yourself in a new city with zero connections. But again, God is good and He had a plan much greater than mine. I still may or may not be accepted into the program I applied for, but either way my plans are His now and I can’t wait to start back working as a nurse in cardiology. To me it’s fascinating, and I love it. And I’ll be working four 10’s, which is a dream. I may not hold the highest degree in nursing and I may not have the most money or the fanciest job title, but I’m okay with that. This doesn’t mean I'm not capable or that I’ll never pursue those things or that the timing will never be right for advancing my career one day. But for now it feels right to be a nurse. This season reminded me why I’m a nurse but more importantly why I can’t take on God’s role in my own life. His timing is flawless, and He is good. And oddly enough there's even been several bright and sunny days in Spokane lately, and I can't help but peak at that next season. I probably haven't given Spokane enough of a chance yet.
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If you’ve been following along with me, you know that I started this blog just one year ago at the beginning of a big year of change and new growth. I didn’t say it, but my 2017 New Year’s “resolution”, if you will, was to simply write out one blog post at least once a month. At least 12 blog posts, how hard could that be? I have never ever stuck to a New Year’s resolution and often don’t state them because I tend not to follow through, and then I feel disappointed. But 2017 didn’t disappoint, and I stayed true to my goal and even passed it. Writing has become therapeutic for me, whether I’m digging into something deep or simply writing about food or a craft or something that interests me. I don't focus on who will read or even care if anyone reads. I do it for me. It forces me to slow down and look inward.
I was reminded of slowing down just this past Sunday at church. We had the pleasure of hearing a guest speaker as the pastor was out of town, and I don’t think it was a coincidence because he spoke on prayer – something I indeed struggle with. Let me rewind here for a moment and tell you my journey of finding a “new” church community. These are simply my thoughts and opinions and reflect in no way the value or substance of any church style or community. And I won’t use names because that doesn’t matter. It’s just what I experienced. Moving to Spokane, I was definitely most nervous about finding friends and finding a church community. If you know me, you probably know that I have a deep love for my home church (DF) and the community and sense of support I feel there. Even when I went to college in Auburn, I had a difficult time finding a church or feeling at home for those few years. The truth is that DF ruined me for “church” – and I don’t mean that in a bad way. Now I know we aren’t supposed to compare this to that, and by no means is DF or any church perfect. But man is it hard to find a place like home. Fast forward to Spokane. We did many Google searches, drive by’s and such looking for a new church to call home while we’re here. We actually found a pretty good fit if you remember reading a few blog posts back about the sweet little old lady who reminded me to “Just keep following Jesus” and everything else would fall into place. We actually kept going to this church for a couple of months, and my main drawback was that it just felt so big that we weren’t connecting with anyone. Sure, we interacted with the door greeters who always had a big smile, a firm handshake, and the bold “good morning!” or “welcome!” But that just didn’t feel like community to me. So we tried “connecting” and reached out to join a small group or something similar. Surely we would find some community that way, right? Well, we got an email that we would be “wait listed” because all small groups in our age group and life stage were full. I won’t go into the details of my reaction or why I wouldn’t mind joining a small group made up of any ages, life stages, etc. Why I, in fact, think it's important to diversify (especially in the church). Or why I’m looking for more than a cappuccino with my Sunday sermon. But it was a pretty clear sign to me to try again, but somewhere else. I remembered one (of many) phone conversation(s) I had with my dad about my frustrations of finding a new church and a community. And I remembered this quote he referred to – a quote from Eugene Peterson during an interview. Here it is: Question: “Eighty-one years is a long time. As you enter your final season of life, what would you like to say to younger Christians who are itchy for a deeper and more authentic discipleship? What’s your word to them?” Answer: “Go to the nearest smallest church and commit yourself to being there for 6 months. If it doesn’t work out, find somewhere else. But don’t look for programs, don’t look for entertainment, and don’t look for a great preacher. A Christian congregation is not a glamorous place, not a romantic place. That’s what I always told people. If people were leaving my congregation to go to another place of work, I’d say, “The smallest church, the closest church, and stay there for 6 months.” Sometimes it doesn’t work. Some pastors are just incompetent. And some are flat out bad. So I don’t think that’s the answer to everything, but it’s a better place to start than going to the one with all the programs, the glitz, all that stuff.” So I took and am still taking this to heart. In another effort to search for a church, I noticed one that I had not noticed before. This really stuck out to me because, I kid you not, I had studied the lists and lists of churches in Spokane for months. So we visited once, we visited twice, and now a third time. During the first week we already met the pastor, and the second and third weeks several people remembered our names and made us feel welcome. A simple somebody reaching out to you, remembering your name, and asking more about you can reach miles into someone and can make them feel known. By no means am I saying this small community of believers is perfect, nor is DF. But it reignited a flame of hope within me and created a desire to stay for 6 months and a desire to dig deeper with these people. Now back to the lesson on prayer. A couple of things stuck out to me when this speaker taught on prayer. First off, I realized how often I’m guilty of saying, “I’ll pray for you” or “I’ll pray about that” and then don’t. It’s easy to say you’ll pray, maybe even to end a conversation with someone or change the subject rather than talk through it or be a listening ear. But to take it seriously and to take the time to reflect and have a conversation with God presents a true challenge for me and I would be willing to bet for others too. One of my “resolutions” is to take prayer more seriously. Because without honest communication and time with God it’s not much of a relationship at all. Just like if I don’t communicate with Kevin or my friends, it’s not much of a marriage or friendships at all. And secondly, this speaker urged the importance of writing your thoughts (or prayers) out. Sometimes we have all of these thoughts, emotions, feelings, etc. jumbled in our brain. We don’t really know what they are unless we channel them somewhere, somehow. And that’s why I blog (or publicly journal), and that’s why I want to continue this “resolution” or challenge into the New Year. I believe it’s important to put thoughts to paper (or webpages) and to be honest with ourselves and with each other. Whether it’s confessions of personal struggles or a funny story about my day, I want to continue to write. And maybe some way, somehow it could touch another person and we can both feel comfort through each other but ultimately through Him. I talk to my pets. A lot. I mean, who doesn’t? I grew up listening to my mom always talking to our dog, Sandy, and now I catch myself sounding exactly like her. And that's definitely a good thing because I'll be lucky if I'm half of the mom she is one day.
Cats and dogs are great company and listeners without judgment. Especially in a season of snow (literally no sunshine), unemployment, and “new” everything, I really appreciate my two furry companions more than they understand. They provide a stability and consistency in a tough, lonely season. I spend a lot of my free time taking care of them, cleaning up after them, and making sure they’re fed, exercised, and happy. But as much as they depend on me day to day, sometimes they teach me something with their simple and unconditional love. A couple of weeks ago I remember talking to Zeke before bed (you know, building up his self confidence), saying things like “you’re so cute” and “you’re so smart” and “I love you, Zeke.” But then I remember following it up with “Well, I don’t love you because you’re cute and smart…I just love you. Just because.” And then I thought, “He just loves us. Just because.” And I felt a new sense of peace on a particularly bad day. It doesn’t matter if we’re working or unemployed, if we’re a straight A student or a C student, if we live in a big house or small house or if we like sports or music or cooking or reading or whatever it may be. No matter what, He just loves us. Just like I love Kevin and Gatsby and Zeke and so many others "just because", He loves us even more just because. Does that make sense? This is a comforting and encouraging thing to remember going into another new year and even more new changes. We have some uncertainties and difficult times ahead with possible new jobs or school, deployments, and still figuring out life far away from friends and family (please come visit!). But I’m going to try and make it a point to remember that first He loves us, and the rest just follows. I can go into a new job or new situation, a deployment without my husband and best friend for months, new challenges and new experiences all while knowing that He loves me no matter what. No matter whether I have a good day or a bad day, whether I perform my best or make mistakes, whether I have friends or not, whether I cook a healthy dinner or have a rough day and eat fast food, I am loved. And you are too. And that brings peace and comfort only He can provide. It's snowing, it's Friday, and I have plenty of free time to create this photo blog post - something I've been meaning to do. One of the best (and sometimes most stressful) parts of moving across the country has been becoming a first time homeowner and transforming our house into our home. So here's some before and after photos of our favorite spaces...enjoy! "She was an adventurer at heart; but oh how she loved drinking this tea from this mug in this chair. Oh how she loved to be home." I haven't thought of any great stories, big events, or fancy ideas lately to write about. So let's talk about food. And if you don't like reading about food, restaurants, reviews, or random thoughts, I would stop reading here. Food is one of the main things that stuck out to me with the move from Alabama to Washington. I'm used to the good ole southern comfort food, my local favorites, BBQ, and especially a great mexican restaurant, complete with too many chips and lots of warm, delicious queso! Let's just say...none of the above exist [in tasty form] here in Spokane, WA. I've had to instead figure out what the "good food" is here, and that's kind of hard [and expensive] to do by just trial and error. So I asked my personal trainer at the gym and spent our first session talking about food more than exercising (oops, I'm not sorry about it). He suggested to stay away from all mexican restaurants, most italian restaurants, most seafood, and...well, really anything I'm used to. He instead suggested trying the smaller, local pubs, grilles, bars, etc. or fancier steakhouses and "nice occasion" restaurants. Because that's where the good food [and drinks] are...so that's what we started doing! [This is all of personal opinion and in no way reflects the quality of any restaurant mentioned. It's just what I experienced, which could all be by chance.] I'll start with the one "nice occasion" restaurant we've tried, and that's Churchill's Steakhouse --> https://www.churchillssteakhouse.com This place came by recommendation of several people. We went to Churchill's for an anniversary dinner, and it did not disappoint! We made a reservation, but it wasn't all that busy on a Saturday night, so I'm not sure it was necessary. It's located in downtown Spokane near the Historic Davenport Hotel. The atmosphere was fantastic, the service was great, and the food was outstanding. We both got one of their signature cocktails, and we both got steaks (because --> steakhouse). The steaks come with garlic mashed potatoes and a vegetable (in our case, these flavorful snap peas) and bread. We also splurged and ordered a side of the cougar gold mac and cheese and all of the hype about it did not disappoint. Y'all. This cheese is another kind of delicious. We ended the meal with a complimentary créme brûlée and splurged again on the salted caramel bread pudding. I was stuffed, and I was happy. The only thing that I found weird (?) was that other people in the restaurant showed up in very casual attire. I'm talking jeans, t-shirt and ball cap kind of casual. This only struck me as odd since the atmosphere was so fancy, and the waiters reminded me of those at Highlands Bar & Grill in Birmingham. Overall, I would definitely come back myself and definitely recommend to others. I think the food was too delicious that I forgot to snap a photo, but here we are after dinner with big smiles and full bellies... Moving on to the pubs, I'll start with Waddell's Neighborhood Pub and Grille --> http://waddellspubandgrill.com Waddell's is located in the South Hill area, conveniently about 1 mile from our house. We decided to try it on a Friday night (to start off Kevin's birthday weekend celebration), and I'm so glad we did. It was packed, but we only had about a 5-10 minute wait. Their drink menu is extensive, and the atmosphere is fun and friendly -- just how you would expect to spend an evening in a neighborhood pub. Our waiter was friendly as well. I had the Island Burger with sweet potato fries (highly recommend), and Kevin had the BBQ Brisket Sandwich with Waddell's Fries. In Kevin's words, this sandwich gave Jim 'N Nick's a run for its money, so it must have been good! There were so many things on the menu that we wanted to try. We will definitely be back. Next up we tried Manito Tap House --> http://manitotaphouse.com Again, we are lucky that it's located about 5-10 minutes from our house near Grand and 29th. We went here on a random Saturday night just for fun since we had been wanting to try it out. The atmosphere was a little less crowded than that of Waddell's. We absolutely loved their beer selection here and ordered a flight, including one of the best sour's I've had. The food was a little fancier, in my opinion. I had a hard time deciding what to order but settled on the Blackened Mac & Cheese, requested with no spice, and a side salad. Kevin went with the Chef's Burger and a side of Lamb Curry soup. I felt as if my food was still a little spicy (I'm a wimp), but Kevin is still going on and on about his meal. The service was good. I think we need to go back for a second round, so I can try more of the menu! Overall great experience here. Last, but most certainly not least, we tried Prohibition Gastropub --> https://www.facebook.com/Prohibition.Gastropub.Spokane1/ This was a last minute decision on Wednesday night before traveling to Birmingham for a wedding. When we drove up it almost looked empty, and we almost didn't go inside, but I'm oh so glad we did! I believe they claim one of the "best burgers" or something like that, and I would back that up. They put fresh coffee grounds in their beef, and oh. my. goodness. I ordered the Moonshine sliders with fresh cut fries, and I need more of them in my life. They were that good. And the fries had parmesan on them, and they brought me some ranch for dipping, and I couldn't have been happier. Kevin ordered the Vegetarian Chick Pea Burger and fries and thoroughly enjoyed it as well. Again, the waitress was great. The beer on tap was just alright in my opinion, but they offered a variety of wine and cocktails as well. There was live music by a guy named Josh-something. This guy could rap, and this guy could SING. There weren't many people there (because --> random Wednesday night), but I loved the small pub feeling with just a few people and what felt like a private concert by someone whose voice reminded me of Ed Sheeran. I'll be back, that's for sure! All of this doesn't even cover some of the other great food, coffee, ice cream, etc. that we've tried here in Spokane. We're starting to find our new local "favorite spots" and learning to enjoy a new culture of food. With two recent quick weekend trips to Birmingham, it's hard not to miss where I came from. But I'm thankful for a new experience, new people, new places, and trying new food as well!
A few weeks ago I was sitting in an unfamiliar, new (bigger than I’m used to) church for only the second Sunday visiting with my husband in this new city that’s now our home. I was sitting there with darting eyes, looking around and trying to scope out the room, the people, etc. without actually looking like I was scoping it all out (we’ve all done that, am I right?) Obviously, I was wishing someone(s) would notice us or speak to us.
[Maybe we can make an acquaintance that might eventually maybe lead to a friend. Because friends are comforting and community is good for the soul, and right now we are lacking in that department here in Spokane. These were the thoughts in my head.] Anyways, I barely heard this quiet voice to my left and tried not to look in case it wasn’t meant for me. But then I heard it again, and this sweet little old lady was standing there and asked us if we might scoot down one chair so that her family of five could fit next to us. 'Oh! Of course we can!' I immediately said, jumping up and feeling silly for ignoring her the first time. And once they sat down, I guiltily thought to myself 'Great, now our row is full and nobody our age is going to talk to us.' Either way, the service already started and I tried to stay hopeful. Just as the opening songs finished, this same sweet little old lady took my hand and said 'Your ring is absolutely gorgeous' then she proudly stuck out her left hand with a giddy smile on her face and said 'Mine is 70 years old!' I told her how beautiful her ring was and how encouraging that was to hear since we had only been married a little over 6 months. She obviously didn’t know me or Kevin or our story or anything that has happened over these past few months. But this sweet lady smiled and told me 'That’s good! I’m happy for y’all…just keep following Jesus!' Just keep following Jesus. The words stuck with me. In that moment she comforted me because she encouraged me and made me feel known. That’s hard to do – to make someone feel known. And she was and is right about this whole marriage thing in her few words. I don’t know her name, and I don’t know that I will ever see her again, but this sweet lady taught me a lot about marriage in the time we sat by each other during a short church service. Her intentional kindness encouraged me to reflect on what marriage means to me, and she will probably never know how important she made me feel in such a lonely, new phase of life. To me, marriage means taking turns getting up early to let the puppy outside and letting the other one sleep in. It means doing the laundry and the cooking and the dishes and taking the trash out all in one day just because you want to let the other one relax. Sometimes it means surprising the other one with cleaning their car or bringing home ice cream. It means making sacrifices with our time and energy for the other one even when we don’t want to. Sometimes it means arguing, and sometimes it means laughing or crying or sitting in silence. It means encouraging one another when one of us feels down, incapable, and insignificant. It means holding each other accountable, practicing forgiveness, trusting each other, challenging each other, and loving each other no matter what. It means being that person, that companion, and that best friend. And man, I am oh so thankful for my partner in life! So even though I feel like we are nowhere near experts in marriage, in selflessness, or in loving one another and loving others together…I’m going to take this woman’s advice and continue to serve and follow Jesus together. Because no one is perfect and marriage isn’t perfect, but if we strive to follow Him then we might end up doing something right. And I hope to be that little old lady in 70 years, proudly showing off my ring to a newlywed couple and giving them this same advice. October has always been one of my favorite months, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the weather or the leaves, or maybe it’s the football, fall decorations, food, etc. But this year I definitely know exactly why. This year Christmas came in October because our household goods FINALLY got here. And because our new flooring was finally installed! And, for me, this was like Christmas (in the admittedly worldly and materialistic sort of way). All fun was had except for the first few days of floor installation…that was a new level of misery. After 6-7 months of not having all of our ‘stuff’ I can confidently say that YES it’s possible, and probably a lot more simple, to live without these things…but it feels ohhh so good to have it all back. To be able to sleep in my own bed. To be able to finally open and use our wedding gifts, for which I am even more thankful for than before. To be able to set up, decorate, and turn this house into a home. It might be fun opening new things, but I would argue that it is even more fun opening boxes of your old things that you’ve not seen in a while, or have even forgotten. It’s also extremely overwhelming. See below… I had spent countless hours and days walking around our empty house, picturing where everything would go, taking measurements, and making lists. We were spending every meal sitting in two beach chairs (beach chairs are better than the floor, right?). We were sleeping on an air mattress for over a month. We were cooking out of one pan, one pot, eating from two plates, two bowls…you get the idea. I was frequenting Target and Trader Joe’s, staring down the pumpkins and cute fall decorations, wishing I could set up and decorate our house. The best I managed was a pumpkin spice candle at first. It could always be worse. But y’all, I hit a breaking point. After several weeks of this empty house, it seemed far from a blessing anymore. I couldn’t wish for or pray hard enough for our belongings to get here any faster (because military timeline). So I decided to do two things (well, three): 1. To find a better attitude, 2. To get online and at least start ordering some of the furniture and household items that we had agreed upon ‘needing’ or rather wanting, and 3. To work in the yard to at least improve the outside of the house if I couldn’t do anything about the inside yet. I moved my car into the driveway and used our garage as a drop off zone for the nice FedEx and UPS men frequenting our house, as well as the nice mailman who has actually started joking with me about how many packages we’ve received – guilty. We were within a week of having our floors installed, and once those were finished we could finally start setting up the furniture/things I had ordered all while waiting for the rest of our household goods. I started working in the yard, raking and picking up leaves. And I spent a day and a half pulling weeds. Lots and lots of weeds. And, oddly enough, I actually found out that I really love pulling weeds. Nothing like the challenge and satisfaction of getting one of those big, deep roots! Anyways, the satisfaction faded the next day when my hands, fingers, and entire body ached. And the leaves have since all returned to the ground plus some (thanks fall, looking at you). But here we are on the other side of all of this, and come this Thanksgiving I can truly speak to a few things I’ve learned to be thankful for these past several months. For simplicity, for prayer, for words of encouragement, and for courage. For time together, for accountability, for a roof, for warmth, for pets, for challenges, for independence, for change, for growing up, and for learning to be more patient. As tough as things have been at times, I’ve received grace upon love upon peace and comfort in places and at times I didn’t deserve or believe possible. So here’s to appreciating the little and the big things in life, the ‘stuff’ we all love, the lessons that need learning, and to always pushing forward together no matter what! And let's all take a moment to appreciate that Catsby Gatsby also finally has his beloved carpet cat stand back! Good things ARE worth waiting for!
Road trip: part 2 was filled with a few less emotions and a little more joy. Joy because Kevin and I were together, driving one car in front of the other, finally leaving Altus, Oklahoma. We drove for a total of 3 days and spent 1 day sight seeing in Colorado Springs. Part 2 included Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, and finally…Washington! There were many podcasts, audiobooks, snacks, songs, phone calls, walkie talkie chats, gas station stops...and Catsby Gatsby even got the hang of car rides and hotel stays. On our sight seeing day, we got to visit the Garden of the Gods, the Air Force Academy, and Pike’s Peak. It was a long day, but well worth it! I was pretty amazed at the quick glance into Kevin’s years at the Academy AND at the fact that I was sweating all day but later saw snow on the mountain – here’s a look… Fast forward to driving into Spokane for the first time. I remember driving slow. Slow because I was looking around and taking in my new city. But also slow because I was actually nervous to finally see our house and to let it all sink in that THIS was going to be home. Again, no turning back. I finally met our realtor in person, as he turned over the keys to us in our front yard. We met some neighbors, toured the house, snapped a photo, and then we were alone. We were here. And this is where bravery comes in. I’ve always thought of bravery as skydiving and public speaking, going on big adventures, being bold, singing karaoke, doing something daring, being strong, physically. All things I do not enjoy. However, I do enjoy all things safe, planned, all things that are not loud or bold or put me as the center of attention. And I certainly do not [or did not] see myself as being a brave person. But moving across the country and living out of vulnerability has changed my definition of bravery.
Brav-er-y: the quality or state of having or showing mental or moral strength to face danger, fear, or difficulty: the quality or state of being brave: courage [Merriam-Webster] Looking at bravery as the ability to face difficulty both physically and mentally has challenged and changed me in these past weeks. Instead of focusing on the things that have gone wrong, the things that have not been checked off the long to-do list, the things that are stressful or not fair…I’ve started to look at the positive, brave things that I have done. The things that would normally scare me, the things I would normally avoid. Being in a new city, knowing no one, living in a pretty much empty house [with no furniture or belongings for about another month...because military life], and spending a great deal of time alone has forced me to put myself out there and be brave. It has forced me to talk to my neighbors, to make phone calls and run errands that I may normally avoid, delay, or put off on someone else. To research and find new everything: new doctors, a new dentist, new grocery stores, new restaurants, new DMV, new vet clinic, new everything. To navigate new roads, getting lost or making wrong turns and getting yelled at through nearby car windows. To keep a smile and to keep going anyways. To learn from my mistakes, and to ask lots of questions. It’s uncomfortable, it’s different, it’s all new, but I’m learning to be brave. I’m learning that bravery takes many shapes and forms and that you can’t do it alone. I couldn’t do any of it without His guidance, His push, whispering to me that “I can” when I think I definitely can't. And I couldn’t do it alone without the daily kind and encouraging words from Kevin and my parents. And even with help, it’s not always easy. On nights like last night, I was completely stressed out, over it, and exhausted, sleep deprived [ask me how hard it is to be a puppy mom]. I was driving home from Target, on the edge of breaking down, and the radio quietly played “sweet home Alabama.” And I felt comfort. And I was reminded that I’m brave. Maybe this is what I needed to be brave. Maybe this was always the plan. To be put in a new city, a new home, in a new marriage, to have a new puppy, to have to make new friends, and to experience new things in a new way. My mind wants to tell me to be anxious, to be scared, to be homesick and to feel alone. But somehow my heart keeps saying, “you’re brave and it’s okay.” Road trip: part 1. 5 states. 2 days. 857 miles. 2 stops for gas. 3 stops for food. 1 hotel. 2 pills to sedate the cat. A few tears. Some phone calls. A visit with family in Memphis. A drive through a storm. A lot of podcasts. And now 5 days spent in Altus, Oklahoma. So far so good on the cross country trip to our new home. I am oh so thankful for a couple of weeks of relaxation between the driving. Kevin’s training got a little delayed (because, military life), so we are actually here together for a little over 2 weeks in total. That should help me recover from the 2 days of driving on my own with a [more than anticipated] anxious cat. The road trip started out Saturday morning with about 45 minutes of standstill traffic in downtown Birmingham, and I already could not handle the antsy Gatsby before we even left city limits. Cue pulling over on the interstate and shoving that little pink pill down his throat that I tried to avoid. [Thanks Dr. Murphy!] With a slightly sleepier cat, we were able to make the two day drive together on a more bearable level. A quick stop in Memphis to see Uncle Mike and Danny boosted our morale as well! All in all, we made it to Altus on Sunday afternoon. Gatsby was exhausted, Kevin was thrilled, and I was happy, tired, and then somewhat…empty. Why? I had just spent over 1 week saying countless goodbyes. I spent several days packing the car and cleaning. I had just spent 2 days driving and using so much energy to try and make it safely. I stayed so busy and so focused. And I had not spent any time processing what just happened. It still felt like a vacation or a road trip to which I would return back home. Home being Birmingham, of course. It had not really hit me until that moment that I realized there was no turning back. That I was staying here with my husband, my cat, my belongings. Here in Oklahoma, eventually on our way to “home” in Spokane, Washington. How could Spokane be “home” when I don’t even know what it looks like there? So, of course, I cried. I cried for the goodbyes that I felt like went by too quickly. For the ones I didn't get to say. For my family that I missed so dearly. For the city that I’ve known as home for so long. For the places I would no longer frequent. For my church. For the job that I already missed doing. For the friends I missed seeing. For the things I would miss out on. For the familiarity. For the routine. For almost anything that crossed my mind, I just cried. This didn’t make sense to me when I thought I should be over the moon to finally be with my husband on this journey to our new beginning. I had been looking forward to this, and it just didn't make sense. But what I also realized is that I hadn’t fully let myself give in to these raw emotions of what I guess you could call some sort of grief. Grief of moving on from something old in order to experience something new. Letting things go. Moving on. And not just doing so, but being okay with it. I finally faced these thoughts, fears, emotions, and questions. I finally gave it a good cry and started to embrace the change. And now I can say that I have really been able to relax and enjoy this new season of life. In just 5 days, we have tried several new recipes. I’ve made new friends in the 3 roommates and 2 dogs here. I’ve been to the gym more times this week than I can count in the past 6 months. I’ve set new goals and put on a new attitude. And I’m actually starting to feel like a real married person, finally. In the next week we’ll be closing on our house (remotely), Kevin will be finishing up training, and we’ll be back on the road. Please keep us in your prayers as we have several more days of driving and much more change coming our way. For now, here’s some more pictures from the trip… We have a HOUSE! In the same state. In the same city. Together. We finally have a house to make a home. Of course, we had the option of living on base and kept this as a back up plan. BUT both of us really wanted to find a home off base to really make our own. And I can't believe we are closing in a few weeks! The final countdown of this long distance marriage thing is wrapping up (10 more days)! Kevin took one for the team and spent the Fourth of July weekend up in Spokane house hunting with our wonderful realtor, Lou. He is the best. Seriously. I think they viewed around 15 houses in 2 days. With a big thanks to technology, I got to facetime in on most of the house tours (even better...this was all while I was on a fabulous girl’s trip at the beach, lucky me!) With so much anticipation and, honestly, not a lot of confidence in the time frame, we actually decided on a house we both loved! We placed an offer that weekend, and (much to my surprise) had our offer accepted! Here’s a look... And it just felt right. This whole process has challenged me and truly shown me God’s perfect timing and plans. People keep asking me how I can be comfortable buying a house without seeing it first for myself? How can I trust Kevin to pick out a home for us? How can I pack up and move across the country to a place I’ve never seen? How can I even drive that far alone? (Believe me... I hate driving and need all the prayers.) The truth is that I myself can’t (and don’t really have a choice because... military life). Every part of who I am would want to reject the uncertainty in these situations and stay right where I am, but He covers me in comfort and confidence. Over and over again. I am continuously surprised at how He provides and how His plans far surpass my own. We are over the moon excited about our first home together and can’t wait to get in and start adding our own touches to it. My countless hours spent on Pinterest and watching HGTV just might finally be put to use… stay tuned! |