City Mouse, City House

We moved!

About two and half months ago we packed up our home and traded in our windmill and fields for the city life. We had talked about this move for a long time and the closer it got to my graduation the more serious the conversation got, until all of a sudden we were packing boxes and renting trucks. When the day finally came to leave I was surprised how sad it was to say goodbye to that beautiful little country home.

It was the home I came back to after my wedding.
It was the home I decorated and arranged with my brand new husband.
It was where we had our first Christmas (and 2nd and 3rd).
We found our first dog behind the woods of that house.
I completed my entire graduate degree studying on the floors, tables, and couches of that home (sometimes all at once).
We celebrated and ate with countless friends in that home.
We learned how to be a married couple in that home. All of the growth and setbacks we endured along the way were contained in that home. Our entire married life was in that home.

So you can see why it was a little hard to leave? I sometimes still miss the creaky windmill and the big sky but I think its more than just the house. I cherish the moments that took place in that home, and the beautiful setting that it created for the start of our life together.

And now, a new chapter begins in a new setting, a new home, and with new adventures.

My current favorite thing about this home is the sound of O'Sister, Brother in my living room. Adam listens to it loud to check for imperfections in the mix and I sit back and breathe in the big and beautiful sounds that fill our cozy living room. It fills every corner and you can't help but be moved by the earnestness of the voices and the truth of the words. If you haven't heard them, you should.

Long time, no see

So much has happened in the last four months - good things, and not so good things. But before I can relish in the exciting, happy, ‘all the waiting has paid off’ parts I have to look honestly at the last four months.

I’d like to say the reason I haven’t been writing is because of my busy schedule, but that’s not why. The past four months have been some of the most challenging months I’ve faced in a long time. They brought about a heaviness that I tried to ignore until I could not ignore it any longer. This heaviness silenced me, in so many ways because it’s not the kind of heaviness that pushes the artist to write beautiful poetry or paint a masterpiece. It’s the kind of heaviness that can’t come out in words. It settles deep in your heart, dropping on your chest with a thud, making it impossible to speak. So it comes out in kicking the dirt, in ugly, messy sobs that seem to come from nowhere, and it pushes you into hiding. You can hide pretty well for a good long while if you are a busy person, and I was, so I could.

But not for long because then suddenly you graduate, Christmas time is over, and you are finally alone and forced to be face to face with this heaviness that’s been growing in your heart. You realize how heavy it really is, how carrying the weight has curved the posture of your back and taken you further away then you ever intended to be. You feel confused, angry, desperate, and so drained of life.

You sit in this chaos, in this hurt- until God speaks.

That’s when you hear your husband’s voice singing these words on a Sunday morning:

“Fragments of brokenness

Salvaged by the art of grace

You craft life from our mistakes

Oh Your cross, it changes everything

There my world begins again with You

Oh Your cross, it's where my hope restarts

A second chance is Heaven's heart”

So I start again.

I let God recreate me.

I let Him patch me together like a messy, mismatched quilt.

I remind myself that my hope is not in Christians but that my hope is in Christ.

I remember my God loved me so much He died so I could have this hope.

And I know my God is not a God of confusion and chaos. He is a my handyman God.

This is where my hope restarts.