On home and belonging

Tonight we are back in Montana after over a week spent on our first pilgrimage back to California.

I wondered how it would feel, to return to our former southern California city of residence, and then leave again, for the second time. Where would our heartstrings feel more closely tied? What about the kids and their longings for "home?" And which end of the trip feels more like our home? It was impossible to predict.

Of course there are so many things I miss about California. Like this below. Obviously. And our entire family and precious friends. And many, many things I do not miss. And there were things and people I missed in Montana. And some things I did not miss.

I've been noticing how many people who know us say things to me like, "Wow, so how's Montana? Kevin must be LOVING it there!" Or, "Kevin must really be IN HIS ELEMENT." Statements like that. Because they know my husband is an outdoorsy guy, and I guess the presumption is that he will feel more comfortable outdoors in MT than in CA. I guess. On the maybe-one-day-a-month he gets to do something outdoorsy, since there are still jobs and trash day and bills to pay in Montana.

And the implication also is that I am probably not loving it as much, I'm not "in my element." They say things like, "But how are you doing there?" with a grave tone like Montana gave me an illness. Because I guess the way the obvious things about me fit with the obvious things about Montana is questionable.

So while we've been in California, my husband and I have been chatting about these funny presuppositions. I asked him if he felt he belonged more in one place than the other. I wondered what exactly "my element" is. Where exactly do I feel most at home? Where do we belong?

I was a little surprised that he felt like I did: strangely hazy about all of it. Neither of us felt overwhelmingly connected to either culture, either home, either terrain. He hasn't felt an enhanced sense of belonging living in Montana just because he likes the outdoors. Probably like I didn't feel an intense sense of belonging living in California because I happen to like Anthropologie and pedicures and 70 degree winters. I also like places with no Anthropologie, no need for pedicures, and 20 degree winters. We started to understand that the things that are obvious about us and about different environments have very little to do with whether we feel we belong there.

Our preferences have very little to do with what feels like home.

And at the end of the day, we were reminded that nothing really feels like home. Not really. Because we were made for more.

We were designed for so much more than pedicures and camping and lattes and church on Sunday and Christmas cards and the right winter boots. As long as we look for home, comfort, and belonging on this earth, we won't find it. We fit in none of the places.

We don't belong anywhere but with Jesus and His people in a second Eden, in a perfect paradise. And the Bible says He has a home for every believer there in heaven. An address, finally, where we will be "in our element". We can't feel at home in CA or MT or any other combination of letters. We can't even feel comfortable in our own skin, as we are. But one day, we'll know belonging. And Jesus will heal us from the inside out. 

And then we'll know what it feels like to come home. 

Happy New Year, friends, from our temporary home to yours.

{p.s. for more thoughts along these lines, I remembered I wrote this post a while back with which my heart still resonates...}

My favorite summer moments, in pictures

 

We go back to school this week. I'm excited. A little. They

 are excited. A little. This transition back to routines, early mornings, more free time, and homework is always bittersweet. I'm always conflicted; as much as I need some space around my body and silence in my head, I will immediately miss them clamoring all around my body and making so much noise.

 

Motherhood is at first a total laying down of self for the sake of children, and then the slow, simultaneous letting go of those children and re-discovery of oneself.  

 

It's always bittersweet. And I love that.

 

But I have a couple days left to reflect on the good that summer brought us. Here are my most favorite moments.  

 

 

{celebrating 16 years as a family}

 

 

And besides these, many beautiful moments took place on the inside. The times the kids and I practiced memorizing Psalm 27:1-5. The times we spent making new connections with friends. The times we laughed so hard while reading Pippi Longstocking together. The times I heard from the Lord in the quiet of the night. Those were even more precious than the ones I can snap with a camera.

Though far from perfect and woven with challenges, none of which are ever captured in photos but rather in bruises of the heart, it was a good summer.

I'm so grateful for everything God provided.

And I have a lingering feeling He'll provide for all our needs in the coming school year too. Happy Back to School, friends.

Camping and almost hitting the earth's core I think

 

 

Both of my littles have birthdays in May.

 

And since we are now in a home away from what feels like home, with no family or friends within a thousand mile radius, we decided to celebrate them by going on our first family trip since we moved to MT two months ago.

 

By the way, it was my second camping trip ever. I'm getting sorta good at it. See my s'more? It has been refined to this magical combination: dark chocolate, coconut covered marshmallows, and cinnamon grahams.

 

These guys are camping naturals. They are in their element in the wild.

 

 

One thing I'm not so good at is called going inside of a mountain, underground for a long, long tour. Oh, granted, it was a crazy amazing natural phenomenon - these caverns - but I have psychological issues from living in CA for my whole life. If MT had earthquakes, I'd have been out. I used to get nervous sitting under a freeway overpass in traffic for more than a few seconds.

 

But mind over matter. Just keep swimming, as Dory says. I totally survived the center of the earth. What was weird was that the deeper we descended - oh, and there were zillions of steps down into clammy darkness - the colder it got. Which was surprising, since I am pretty the earths' core is still made of molten lava.

 

(That pic below, top right, is the mountain that I was inside of for God knows how long. From the outside.)

 

And then check out the archery action. I secretly - well, it's not a secret anymore - want to be a really awesome archer. Like way before Katniss and Merida and every little girl with a braid wanted to be one. So since my little guy got a cool set for his birthday, I've been waiting for the perfect moment to hijack it. And hijack it I did. After a little practice, I came up with some challenges. Featured below are my husband and I attempting to best each other. You had to run from a certain tree, leap off the orange rock, release the arrow while in the air, and hit the boxes. It was hard. My husband beat me. Darn it. It was probably because of his pretty sweet leap as seen below.

 



On the way home, we saw this sign off the side of the road.

 

I don't know if the sign-maker had an agenda of any kind. But it did remind me of the reason my weekend away with my family was so fun.

 

Choice has a lot to do with it. It was fun partly because we chose to live. Not just spectate. I chose to plan a camping trip (even though I have little experience, and even less confidence with the whole camping scenario). We chose to go into that crazy mountain. I chose to push down my temptation to freak out and instead enjoy God's hidden creativity. (How many other mountains house the same beauty just because He wants them to?) I chose to get up and shoot arrows with my family. I chose to get outside my comfort zone, more than a couple times. And stuff totally worked out. Memories were made. We had a great time.

 

 

It doesn't always happen that way. Obviously. Last week, I was choosing good things, and some of them just didn't work out. People were disappointed. That's life too. Unpredictable. A good choice does not guarantee a good outcome.

 

But I keep choosing, always silently celebrating my God-given free will. I can choose how I want to live. And I can choose Him. No matter which things do or don't go my way, He is where I always find real life.

 

And life is a beautiful choice.

 

Hope you all had a great weekend.

Snippets between birthdays

This is birthday month in my home.

The lower-rung priorities tend to fall off. Like blogging. And keeping in touch with all our CA friends and family. Sorry guys, but my mini-baker wants a tripled recipe of from-scratch s'more cupcakes with from-scratch frosting for her class in 48 hrs. Oh wait, and she wants to do it all herself. Which is not a surprise. She is turning 11, but when she was 2, she would loudly assert, "I do it my big self!"

I'm totally not complaining. I LOVE to celebrate them, especially since it's just us here in the MT. But other things just have to give. I'm okay with that too.

I'll be back with my thoughts on friendship and whatnot soon. In the meantime, here are some snippets of what's been going on around here this past week.

Birthday boy who loves donuts, Mexican food, and his new bow and arrow.

 

The "planting" of artificial succulents in real dirt. (I said, "Let's just try that." And guess what? It's awesome.)

Days off, library trips, snacks and these two.

Thunderstorms and movie watching. We love vintage Harrison Ford. "Snakes! Why did it have to be snakes?"

Memorial Day parade in the rain

Shopping for birthday girl's dessert this weekend, mega-s'mores.

Room prepping for visitors in my house. I officially have ONE cute room. (I might move in, I love it so.)

 

{print by Katygirl found in her shop here}

And there you have it. That covered our last 7 days. I'm tired.

But also excited; this coming weekend, we are taking our first mini-trip as a family in this Big Sky state. We are ready for a whole weekend of play. No emptying another cardboard box. No searching for a container the exact volume as all the Zhu-Zhu pet parts. No attempting to clean the mud off the dog's paws ten times a day.

I'll keep you in the loop like I usually do, with the help of my trusty phone camera and updates next week. Wait, in a couple days, it will be June! Now, isn't there something about June that holds a whole world of promise?

The classroom of life

I was just going to list the happenings around here lately. I could list the events and the activities. But all those moments actually mean so much more.    

We're learning, all the time, in the classroom of life.

 

I went to a furniture refinishing class at this antique store this week. I learned how to change ugly furniture into awesome furniture. But really, my eyes were wide open to the people, the culture, the social dynamics among the 15 women, and what it all meant for me.

I was learning a lot more than about furniture. I was learning about people. About them. And about me.

I've been having a lot of thoughts about seasons of friendship lately. Female friendships are hard wrought. Good ones are rare jewels. Right now, friendship feels elusive and off in the distance. But I'm learning, stretching, staying humble and walking close with my best Friend, first.

My life's classroom right now is teaching me how to operate and thrive without the many close friends I lived amongst just months ago.

Here are some more students in my household. I could tell you that my husband built shelves for the garage. But more importantly, he is learning to teach, learning and stretching in his understanding of what it means to father. One is learning how to follow, how to listen, how to emulate. Serious bonding is taking place in the midst of sawdust and power tools and paint.

My little guy built this stool and "desk" on his own. His feelings of pride over his work were beautiful (and he reminded me of Bob Cratchit in this photo, sitting on his perch, maybe counting coins for Mr. Scrooge).

He is learning how to be big. And he is glued to his dad's side in every project.

I could tell you that my husband joined his company softball team, and that we cheered for him at his first game. But he's also learning where he fits in to the dynamics among his co-workers. Learning to lead them, to minister, to make friends. It takes a lot of effort. Well, you know that.

I was learning, once again, how to stay warm. Oh, that was a chilly night!



I could also tell you that I found this blanket at an antique shop. But it's still all about learning, in my new space, to make a home. I spend a lot of time and thought on how to create warmth and inspiration on this blank canvas of a house with stark walls and empty rooms.

I didn't feel inspired to make my home in the same way in my last space. So it's a new opportunity for me to walk through the process of creating something - I don't know exactly what - in each room.

 

My dear friend Aly sent me this print.

She knows that my word for 2013 is "Together."

And what a beautiful reminder it was for me this week; if you recall, at the start of the year, our move was not yet public, but imminent. God gave me this word to remind me of something very important: no matter what Montana would bring, He and I would be together. And my family - we would all be together. I had a sense that unity would be critical, acknowledging the need to cling to the Lord and to one another during this season of change. It takes a lot of effort and is not easy. But you knew that.

I guess there is no tidy little lesson to wrap up this post. We are living our lives out here, all learning in the classroom of life. And God and I are hanging out.

Together, always.