A New Kind of Normal

I think I'm figuring out this new season of life. It's not normal. It’s abnormal.

A few months ago I realized that I’ve been trying to fit abnormal into normal since our return to the States. Maybe because we were back to our native country I thought things were going to fall into place like they had before.

There was a time in our lives when normal fit. Normal meaning ordinary, the usual, the expected. Life was regular and routine. For 30 out of 35 years of marriage Dennis and I had a reasonably structured life. When we served in local church ministry, our life generally revolved around the life of the church. Friday was a day off. Sunday was always a big day. Then we began the week all over again. 

I think this is true for most people. There's a pattern to life that keeps repeating itself week after week. You find a rhythm as it relates to your job, family, and the activities that you add into life. This becomes your normal. 

For the first 30 years of married life, we had four kids at home, eventually getting down to just one while the others were off to college or getting married. Highly organized or not, kids brought routine to life. It was as simple as packing lunches, helping with homework, and bedtime rituals. Routine came as life coordinated with school schedules, extracurricular activities, not to mention, church and community life.

Then seasons changed. Our youngest went off to college. God led us out of local church ministry. We moved to Europe where we served in missions for three years. The role called for frequent travels. Rather than thinking of life as week to week we worked life around trips, maintaining as much routine as we could in between travels.

In many ways Europe prepared us for the current season. It's been almost a year and a half since we moved back to the States as Dennis took on his new role with Global Partners, the mission arm of our denomination. We still travel a lot. Dennis made “1K” status on United, and I'll catch up to him on our next trip. That means we've traveled over 100,000K in the past year. We travel farther and longer now. Airports and planes are fast becoming a comfortable place. I settle into my window seat and I sigh a good sigh. Ah, a familiar place. I know what to expect. I can have my most creative moments at 35,000 feet. And, I’m always reminded of a Sovereign God who loves me and cares about the people who live below. A gift of the abnormal.

Where life once focused on a particular body of Christ, now we don’t even have a home church. We are rarely home on Sundays. On any given Sunday, we could be in another state, or somewhere in the world. Our lifestyle revolves around our travels, and that dictates where we might be worshipping. Another gift of the abnormal. It is a blessing to be able to serve and worship in a diversity of churches, seeing firsthand how God is moving in different parts of the world. I can feel at home wherever I am in the body of Christ. Maybe we come close to echoing John Wesley's journal entry: I look upon all the world as my parish, this far I mean, that, in whatever part of it I am . . . Yes, whatever part of it I am in, that is my church home. 

Thanks to technology, we can skype, email, text our kids from anywhere in the world. It really is an amazing thing. A gift in this age, time, and season of our lives.

So, I’m learning what this abnormal looks like. It's a new kind of normal, and what a gift it is! 

Australia–Thoughts from 35,000 Feet

Something about being 35,000 feet above the earth reminds me of God’s Sovereignty. I get this view a lot these days. About every single time I fly the words from the Psalmist come to mind: When I consider (the moon, the stars, the ocean, mountains, the activity of man below) . . . what is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them? It really is an incredible thought. That God, Creator of the universe, is mindful of us. It's comforting and assuring, but mostly it gives me a sense of His love and honor.

Even now, as I create this post, I’m sitting by the window seat (always book the window seat) as we make a return trip from time spent in New Zealand and Australia–meeting with church leaders in both places, encouraging and equipping missionaries, connecting with family serving in New Zealand, and reconnecting with familiar faces from a trip to Australia 17 years ago.

Seventeen years ago. 

I'll never forget my first glance of Australia from my window seat as our plane made its descent into Sydney on July 4, 1996. After the long 14-hour flight from LA, the coastline that edged the city was a welcome sight.

Dennis and I had often talked and dreamed about taking our family on a short-term mission trip. We hoped to instill into our kids a sense of the world beyond the context of our own little world in Holland, Michigan at the time. Dennis is a risk-taker more than me, but I’ve always said that I have that extra portion of faith that enables me to step out of my comfort zone, trusting God in the unknowns. I would have never met Dennis had I not taken a risk years ago when I uprooted myself from my upbringing in rural Pennsylvania to go to college. It’s a chapter in my life story when I took a risk on myself, and the risk forever changed my life.

Risk-taking, adventure, stepping out, trusting God–whatever you want to call it, it was something we wanted to give to our kids. Upon Dennis’ resignation from a wonderful staff pastor position of nine years, we sensed the timing was right for such an adventure. Originally we thought such a trip would be no more than a couple of weeks, but as it turned out, it was ten and a half months later when we returned to the U.S. Seven and a half of those months were spent in Australia–three months in Queensland, two months in New South Wales, six weeks in South Australia, finishing out our time in Melbourne.

As I gazed down on Sydney that July 4^th day, there was part of me that wondered what in the world we were doing. We had included our four children in on the process of the journey. I can remember gathering around our bed, three on either side, kneeling in prayer as we anticipated and prepared our hearts for the adventure that was before us. At the time, our son Josh was sixteen–a sacrificial decision for a teenager about to enter his junior year in high school. Jamie (14), Joni (12), and Julie (10), though somewhat naive (as we all were in some ways), felt the weight of such a decision. Just like Josh, they felt the inner tension of leaving friends behind, life as they knew it, knowing upon our return that home would not be home anymore.

What kind of impact would a trip like this have on us, on our kids, I wondered. What would be the significance of such a trip for the Kingdom’s sake­–not only for our kids, and us, but also for the body of Christ that made up the Wesleyan Church of Australia? In more ways than one, God made it clear that “down under” was where He wanted us. Upon initial contact with the Australian Wesleyan Church, we were overwhelmed by a quick and sure response that it wasn’t a question of whether or not we should come, but when and how. Lots of details and preparations later, we boarded a plane in Grand Rapids, MI, with a beautiful send-off from friends and family.

Seventeen years later. 

What is man that you are mindful of him?

Troy and Jenni Beer. We met Troy when he was dating Jenni back in 1996. When Dennis ask Jenni's Dad, Stan Baker (at the time District Supt. of the South Queensland District), for names of young men he could mentor during our time in Australia, Stan gave him Troy's name. It was the beginning of a relationship we still share. Troy and Jenni married, then soon came to the states while Troy worked on his Master's degree. Troy came on staff at Spring Lake Wesleyan (where we formerly pastored following our time in AU) as worship pastor during the 18 months they were in the U.S. and then moved back to AU to church plant. What a joy to stay with Troy and Jenni and their four children during our days in Brisbane this time around, and to worship with them at Axis Church where it is obvious that God is on the move and transforming people's lives. 

What is man that you are mindful of him?

Tim and Stef Hibschman.  Early on during our years at Spring Lake Wesleyan, Tim and Stef came on as year-long interns. They ended up serving a couple years in Australia, thanks to rubbing shoulders with Troy and Jenni at SLW. Currently, we get to serve with Tim who now fills the role of Director of Member Care and Development with Global Partners. In fact, Tim was in AU with us on this visit to encourage and care for our missionaries, as he does so incredibly well. Invest deeply, those interns may come around to serve with you some day. :)
   

What is man that you are mindful of him?

Greg and Linda Luckey. Greg and Linda were a part of Spring Lake Wesleyan church and greatly engaged in the surrounding community, but God began working on their hearts for the country of Australia after connecting with Troy and Jenni. Their whole family made the move to Australia several years ago. Their kids are grown now, but Greg and Linda remain in Australia, serving along side of Troy and Jenni at Axis Church. What a delight to catch some time with them and be in their home.

 
 And, last, but not least. 

Clint and Jamie Ussher. Our Jamie married Clint eleven years ago. It's quite the story, but Clint and Jamie would have crossed paths on that 1996 trip. You see, Clint is Australian, and his family was deeply engaged at the Everton Hills Wesleyan Church in Brisbane. They met again stateside a few years later, and well, now we have two grand-daughters part Aussie blood. Currently, they are launching a church plant - The Well - in Christchurch, NZ touching a city that has been devastated by earthquakes over the past few years. 

And, somehow I think there will be more stories to tell when it comes to that adventure we took 17 years ago.

So thankful for wonderful visits in NZ and AU, the connectedness of life, and the God of the universe who is mindful of man.  

ChCh

You can’t get any more down under the world than New Zealand–anything that’s inhabitable anyway. 

Dennis and I flew into Christchurch (ChCh) 10 years ago as a tag-on to a couple weeks of ministry in Australia. We figured we were as close to NZ as we were going to get, so as a 25^th wedding anniversary gift to ourselves, we made a holiday on the south island. A rental car and daily road trips later, we had made our way around the south island from ChCh to Queenstown (where we had the adventure of taking a helicopter up through the valley to our starting point for white-water rafting), to Milford Sound (where it snowed in January - NZ’s summer!), full circle back to ChCh where we enjoyed the city and beach. All along the way, the novelty of sheep grazing on hillsides became commonplace, and I wondered where the Hobbits might have lived or what mountain tops might have been the roamings of Frodo Baggins and Samwise.

Today I’m sitting in The Addington Coffee shop in ChCh while Evee, our 6-year-old granddaughter is in her class at school, Iris, our 3-year-old granddaughter is at Kindy, Jamie, our daughter is at work in the social work job she loves, and Clint, our son-in-law, gets some mentoring time with Dennis. This time we sandwiched a holiday visit to the south island between Global Partner connections on the north island and an M retreat in Cairns, Australia. Little did we know ten years ago that we would have family living on the south island of NZ!

It’s been so fun to enter their world - walking Evee to school, clad in her blue-plaid skort that matches her light-blue polo shirt, the school uniform worn by all; dropping Iris off at Kindy, a colorful large room filled with activities that would take more than a day to explore; seeing Jamie off to work in a fitting and fulfilling social work job that she loves; watching Clint in action as he gives leadership to The Well - a church plant that launched in February of this year - and having the opportunity to see the reality of The Well gather on Sunday morning.

This time, though, Frodo and Sam are not on my mind, but the devastation of earthquakes. I've tried to imagine what it must have been like to experience the quakes and survive the aftermath. And, there is always the question of when it might happen again. 

Clint and Jamie moved to ChCh when the city was still feeling daily tremors from the February 2011 earthquake. The tremors have diminished, but the rebuilding efforts are still going on. We took time on our first day here to walk through the Central Business District where there are parking lots where tall buildings once stood. Shipping containers have been creatively turned into shops. A pavilion was made out of pallets for local businesses and venues. Thousands of homes have been demolished, no longer suitable for living. It's been said by some economists that it could take the NZ economy 50 to 100 years to recover. Amazingly, life has continued on, and others like Clint and Jamie have moved to ChCh for various reasons.

More of Summer

Well, it's been quite the summer! July can be summed up in one word: family. It was a delight to have Jamie and the girls for the month while Clint began his doctoral program at Asbury Seminary. We packed a lot in, including several road trips to KY, MI, and PA.

Welcoming Jamie and the girls in Chicago.

Lots of time with the grands! Aren't they sweet?

Great Grandma's house, downtown Indy, County Fair in PA, 10K Run in MI, Auntie Julie, cousin time!

The farm / Hiking at Box Car Rocks / Wading in the creek

Second Cousins

My wonderful Dad and Mom! Looking at old photos with Evee.

Love my Dad!

Thankful for the blessing of family. Life has continued on with a trip to Germany for the annual Europe conference and a few vacation days in Budapest with my man of 35 years as of August 12. Love being married to such an amazing husband! 

Summer Fun in Indy

I must say, after living in Budapest, Hungary, it was an adjustment to move back to the mid-west. I've been gradually adapting to our new culture and community. But now that summer is here–and I absolutely love summer anywhere–Indy is becoming more and more endearing to me. It's a delightful city with so many bonuses.

I love this city for all the following reasons:

• Cultural Trail - 8 miles of trail that connects five Indy cultural districts for those who want to bike it, take a leisurely walk, or run.
• Biking -  I can ride my bike to practically every significant place in the city. And, those significant places are:

• The White River State Park
• The Canal District
• The Zoo
• Mass Ave
• Indy Reads Books - an amazing non-profit book store on Mass Ave
• Central Library
• City Market
• City Circle

• Children's Museum is amazing - best in the nation
• Indianapolis Museum of Art (IMA) with its 100 acres of woodlands and trails

I think more than anything, I have enjoyed riding my bike around the city. The Cultural Trail makes the city so biker friendly.

Summer pictures so far, with grandchildren included!

Love my Fairdale bike!

Enjoying the Canal District with Miles, Leo, and Stella (of course Josh and Joni, too)

Swinging at IMA with Joni and Miles

Loved having Joni and Miles for a visit the week of 4th of July!

More IMA fun!

Dennis & I enjoyed watching fireworks spouting off the Regions Bank Building this year. Didn't have to fight traffic, just a short walk from our place gave us this incredible spot.

Dennis and I took a day at McCormick Creek State Park for some much needed recovery time. Hiking - one of our favorite pastimes. Indiana has great state parks! And, as always, our Keens proved to be great hiking shoes for crossing creeks and jumping stones.

TODAY we get to pick up Jamie, Evee, and Iris in Chicago!!!! Something our whole family has been anticipating for months!! Definitely pictures of their month-long visit to come!

It's about time!

Well, it is about time! Except for a 3-month period a couple years ago when I intentionally took a blog break, this is the longest I have gone without a blog post over the six years I've been blogging. I've been back from Africa for two months now and life has been full-on since then connecting with kids and grand-kids and a FLAME class (my final one!), and getting to know our new community.

LATEST TRAVELS: Dennis returned to Africa, connecting with our 160 Sierra Leone pastors and the National Superintendent during their National Church Conference. He even had the opportunity to meet the President of Sierra Leone. From Africa, he flew to Vienna, Austria, where I met up with him to spend a few short days with Dave, Dina, and Emma Horne. It was so great to spend time together in their new home and city. From there, the four of us, flew to Birmingham, England, for the weekend of the British Isles District Conference. It was a blessing to reconnect with friends and acquaintances, as well as to be encouraged by the good things that are happening in the BI District.

A joy to be with Dave, Dina and Emma (who is taking the picture:)

DOWNTOWN INDY: I love where we live! Give me a year and a half, and I'll have the lay of the city figured out. They say (whoever "they" is) that it takes 18 months to settle in to a new place. Today I took advantage of a beautiful summer day by riding my bike on the Cultural Trail. You know how much we loved Budapest? Well, when we moved to the city, I was so surprised to find that Indy has a City Market! It looks like a mini of the Grand Market in Budapest. What a gift that was to me! It's not the Danube, but Indy has the White River, as well as monuments, local coffee shops, and friendly people. Not to mention the Children's Museum (top museum in the country!), the Indy zoo, and a great central library.

 Clockwise: White River, Cultural Trail street crossing, Cultural Trail, City Market, & Calvin Fletcher Coffee Co.

OUR NEW HOME: When I sent out our latest newsletter, a few people thought the brick school building was our home. No, we are one of 18 condo units in the school building. We're enjoying living in this historical place. Below you'll see a few pictures of our home.

So happy to have this brick wall for the art piece we bought in Sarajevo, Bosnia!

Lots of daylight with these huge windows.

A small kitchen, but very practical. I created a "window" above my sink with some greenery and birds. The hummingbird on the blue jar reminds me of our Margot.

My Grandma's Lane Cedar chest with her jewelry box, a young photo of her, and a Norman Rockwell plate she gave me years ago. It's entitled "A Young Girl's Dream." The plate is a picture of a young girl sitting on what is probably a train station bench, with a suitcase by her, and a box of tissues on her lap. Grandma told me that the girl reminded her of me, as I left my home in PA to follow my dreams.

Well, a few more pictures of family time, and I'll end this post.

A trip to Grand Haven called for a walk on the pier. Miles loves jumping the rocks.

Birthday #4 for Miles (Stella watching in the background)

Leo

Well, that about sums up the past couple months.

ANTICIPATION! We're looking forward to having Jamie, Evee, and Iris in a few weeks for the month of July! We can't wait! A year and a half is way too long to not see family, especially growing grandchildren.

Africa

When I was young, I remember thinking that Africa was an entire country. World geography was distant lands that I couldn’t comprehend as a visual learner. I must admit, that it was far into my adulthood that it finally registered that Africa is one of the seven continents of the world. And, with our recent trip (as recent as typing this post in the Johannesburg, South Africa airport awaiting departure) I learned that Africa is made up of 54 countries, all unique as the 50 states of America.

Before this trip, my only taste of Africa was documentaries on African wildlife, where a cheetah is chasing impala across open plains. (A little trivia for you - remember the Chevy Impala named after this fast and graceful African antelope?) Having visited only three African countries–South Africa, Swaziland, Mozambique–I am by no means an expert on the continent, but I do know that I have had a small glimpse into some of the history and cultures within Africa, not to mention a better understanding of the Wesleyan work on this continent. 

Over the past week Dennis and I have had the privilege of joining our Africa missionary team for an annual retreat in Mozambique. We flew into Johannesburg to meet up with each other. Dennis had spent a week in the Philippines prior to his arrival. This was my first time to visit Africa, which gave me the pleasure of adding continent number six to my list, and most likely, my final one. I have a feeling Antarctica isn't going to make the list, and I’m not interested in making it a part of my bucket list.

Usually we have little time for touring any significant places in any given country, though we count it a privilege to often see what tourists don't see, which is far more the real world than any touristy area. But, this time, Bob and Brenda Bagley, our Africa Area Directors, asked if we would be interested in stopping by Kruger National Park in South Africa on our drive up to Mozambique. We didn’t hesitate at the opportunity to see African wildlife in this park named after Paul Kruger, a South African soldier and statesman (1825–1904). 

Though no hunting is allowed in the park, our eyes were on the hunt for wildlife as we drove slowly - about 25miles/hour - searching for movement in the bush or sweeping the area for stripes and spots. It was more than once that we stopped and backed up to see a grayish rock that looked like a rhino or a brown anthill mound that was mistaken for a wildebeest or any number of wildlife.   

Below you’ll see some of our finds at Kruger. We were told that the cheetah was a rare treasure. 

Giraffe. Monkeys. Kudu. Elephant. Cheetah.

Crocodile. Rhino. Hippo.

Fever Tree on left - once thought to be the cause of malaria before the discovery that it was mosquitos - the tree grows in swampy areas.
And, I just liked the bare branches of the other tree outlined so vividly against the blue African sky. 

From Kruger, we headed north to Swaziland for the evening and a night’s stay, which is the location of one of our Bible colleges. The students were waiting for us upon our arrival at Emmanuel Wesleyan Bible College. As we walked into the chapel they were singing and dancing, obviously passionate about their love for Jesus. I was encouraged to see both men and women preparing for the ministry. An open forum was held with Dennis, giving the students the opportunity to ask questions, particularly about Global Partners and ministry in the Wesleyan Church. 

Emmanuel Wesleyan Bible College in Swaziland

Early the next morning we began our final leg of the journey to Mozambique, with the Swaziland missionaries joining us in travel. A lunch stop in Maputo, capital city of Mozambique, gave us the opportunity to visit the nearly constructed ministry center for the Mozambique Wesleyan Church, a prime location in the city where vocational classes will be held, as well as ministerial training, meetings, and gatherings.

After lunch, we added more travelers to the convoy and headed to the retreat location. We turned off the main road onto a sandy drive and drove 10K to the shores of the Indian Ocean. The Mozambique coastline extends the length of the east coast in the U.S. It was a beautiful spot for the retreat. We were close enough to see the ocean in all its glory, not to mention, hear the ocean waves thundering against the sandy shore as the tide came in. Three full days of encouragement, connections, and learning proved to be a fun, relaxing, and meaningful time. Dennis and I love attending these annual retreats in the Global Partner parts of the world. It’s such a wonderful way to meet all our M’s at once, yet get to spend one-on-one time with many of them as well. I had the opportunity to share two devotionals and Dennis taught 6 sessions. My greatest joy, though, is to connect personally with the M’s. 

Africa Team

The Wesleyan Church in Africa is growing and thriving. We are in 16 countries, with over 1,000 churches, 2 hospitals, and 7 Bible schools. We thank God for the opportunity we had to serve our missionaries who so faithfully give of themselves on this great continent.

Moving, Margot, and Making Memories

A week ago, Thursday, Dennis and I flew in from New Brunswick after some great days with the Kingswood University students and faculty during their mission focus week. We hopped in our car, picked up Josh and Stella, and headed straight to Michigan. Six-o'clock the next morning Mike, Josh, Dennis and I drove to Grand Rapids, picked up a U-Haul truck, and then proceeded to Frontline Church where our personal belongings had been so graciously stored over the past four years. In less than two hours we had everything loaded–a bed, a dresser, lots of boxes filled with books, and sentimental pieces like my Grandma's cedar chest, a wooden high chair that I sat in, my great-grandfather's rocking chair, among other pieces that Dennis' Dad made for us over the years. Josh and Stella drove my car back to Indy, while Dennis and I hightailed it down the road to buy a new bed (dropped the old bed off at Mike and Joni's:), and then on to Chicago where we hit up IKEA for some living room furniture.

Saturday morning came with great moving weather and able-bodied help, thanks to Tim, Jason, Peter, Jim, and Terry (Jim and Terry Sprow are long-time friends from our years at Holland Central - never saw our paths crossing like this again). Chalk up two more hours and the truck was as empty as our condo was filled.

It was on move-in day, 9:00 a.m. to be precise, I was in the laundry room sorting through cleaning supplies when I heard an unfamiliar ding on my phone. It was different than my text message alert, so I pulled the phone out of my back pocket to see what the signal was all about. And then my heart skipped a beat. "Margot's Birthday - tomorrow." Oh, our sweet Margot. How fun it would have been to celebrate our move to downtown Indy with Margot's 2nd birthday.

I remember too well that day, March 24, now 2 years ago. A phone call in the middle of our Budapest night. Forty-five seconds to tell us that Kari fell and the doctors were about to take the baby out. We waited over two hours for the next phone call, awake, praying, wondering. We fully expected to hear of Margot's birth, but instead we heard, "We lost Margot." Overwhelmed with grief for our loss, and the awful heartache our kids were experiencing, we thought fast, called airlines, began packing, and left within hours for Pasadena.

Always wishing I could have held her. At least I have a picture. We had moments of tears throughout the day and into the next in the middle of unpacking.

On Sunday afternoon while unpacking a box of individually wrapped items, the paper unraveled to reveal the beaded hummingbird that fluttered in my kitchen window in Budapest. I was attracted to this little bird from the moment I laid eyes on it at Pier 1 way before our move to Budapest. It's actually a napkin ring. I only bought one, though I wasn't sure what I was going to do with it.

Somehow it made it to Budapest. I kept it in my desk drawer, and after Margot's death I knew the exact spot where this little bird was meant to be–next to her small picture hanging in my window. As I wrote a year and a half ago: It seemed so fitting for Margot. The smallest of birds, feathers shimmering like that of a prism. Each little twist and turn producing iridescent colors in the sunlight. Flirting with flowers, they're here and gone, only to return again with the flutter of their wings humming in mid-air. 

Margot flits in and out of our lives with sometimes surprising reminders of her existence in the womb and what could have been. Where could I put my hummingbird in our new home? I have two shelves above my kitchen sink. I had already placed some items on the shelves, one being a light blue water bottle I got from a restaurant in Spain. The napkin ring fit perfectly around the top of the bottle, and there was the perfect spot on the top shelf for my hummingbird, ever reminding me of our sweet Margot who was here and gone so quickly. 

Getting our new home settled was priority this past week. Unpacking one box after another. Organizing kitchen, bathrooms, closets, laundry room, and dresser drawers. Arranging furniture and books on shelves. Getting a feel for pictures on the wall. It's been fun to unpack things that remind us of Budapest, and to pull items out of boxes that we had forgotten about over the past four years. We already feel at home, though we still have a few boxes waiting to be unpacked.

Last night we had our Indy kids and grands over for Dennis' Mango Chicken dinner. Julie rode her bike over. Josh and Kari walked over with Stella and Leo in a double stroller. Leo sat in the wooden high chair that was mine. I pulled wooden puzzles and play dishes out of boxes for the kids to play with–toys that Josh and Julie remembered playing with. Stella was building "forts" behind my living room chairs before the evening was over. When it was time for everyone to head back home, Dennis and I walked with them half way to the local DQ, said our goodbyes, and then walked back home eating our blizzards.

It's a life I only dreamed of.

Downtown Indy, Here We Come!

We hoped for character, plenty of natural light, a high walkability factor, and simplicity. I think we got it. It's a two-story, red brick school house—the Horace Mann #13 Indianapolis Public School built in 1873.

I think every time I enter the double-door entrance, I'll wonder about the teachers and students that stepped into this school for almost 100 years, until its final year of classes in 1970. I'll wonder what grades were taught in our #4 condo unit, and what the rooms were really like back then. What did they have for desks when school began in the fall of 1873? How exciting to begin classes in a brand new school. I can just imagine the teachers in their long dresses, hair up in a bun, and the girls in their pinafores, and boys in knickers.

Named after politician and editor, Horace Mann (1796—1859), the school sits on the former property of Calvin Fletcher's farm land, thus the name of this endearing Indy neighborhood, "Fletcher Place." With only days away from our move-in date, we couldn't be more eager and excited to settle in to our new home and community.

Fourteen-foot ceilings with 12-foot high windows gives the character we hoped for, not to mention a few exposed brick wall spaces and a built-in, glassed-doored hutch made from what some think was a dumbwaiter to lower or raise food to the individual classrooms. Our entrance door looks like it could have been an original with its frosted window pane and transom window above the door.

Indy's city circle, with its grand monument and fountain, is less than a mile away. The newly built Cultural Trail takes in seven miles of the city and was created for biking, running, and walking, with designated sides for whichever mode you prefer. It's as close as a couple blocks, and I'm planning to do all three, learning my way around the city. A Thai restaurant is one block down on the corner, and the Calvin Fletcher Coffee Company is less than a quarter mile away.

And, better than all that, we're less than a mile from Julie, Josh, Kari, Stella, and Leo. I really had resigned myself to the fact that I would probably never live near my kids or grand-kids. Now, here we are, walking distance from each other. We even pass a quaint DQ in Fountain Square on our way to Fletcher Avenue where the kids live. I have a feeling the DQ is going to be a frequent stop this summer.

I'd say the red brick school house in Fletcher Place is going to be a great fit for us.

Laughing at the Future

I heard it quoted in an ordination class. A fellow classmate was making a comment and I can't recall why she was quoting from a portion of Proverbs 31, but one of the phrases from that passage made my heart do a double take. At break time, I flipped through my small NLT Bible to Proverbs 31 and began reading. Then, there it was. Verse 25. She laughs with no fear of the future.

It had been a while since I read through this passage of the noble woman, wife, and mother, but in all the times I have read or studied this scripture passage, I didn't remember this particular verse. She laughs with no fear of the future. I really had no idea this verse existed.

I have a tendency to think ahead - too many details way in advance. Lots of details. What-if and what-if-that. Dennis tells me that I think of details that no one else is thinking about at all, if ever. It's March and I've already been considering what-ifs and details for December! Planning and details have their place, but there is a point when it becomes unhealthy. Perhaps as we consider future travel, and I need to make decisions about dates and consider holidays and such, I can justify my planning, but I always know when I've gone too far with it. And, because it is so far in advance, it all takes place in my head. Most of the time, there is not a tangible thing I can do or even write down. All in my head only invites worry and fear and anxiety.

Did you know the average baby laughs 300 times a day compared to the average adult who laughs 20 times a day (according to Wikipedia anyway)? I wonder if I even laugh 20 times a day. Do you? I had to go back several years (like 9 years ago) to find a picture of me laughing (the one above - a bit thinner than now, too). Not that we take pictures of people laughing that much, but still.

And, did you know that laughter bonds people, and lowers anxiety? It has a stress-relieving effect. Did you also know that it actually dilates blood vessels, aiding circulation?  No wonder the writer of Proverbs said that laughter is good medicine.

So, you can see why this verse has not left me. It comes to me in the middle of the day if I'm wondering about the future - like our upcoming move - and then I picture myself with head thrown back in laughter, and I smile at the thought. In that picture God is with me and he is laughing too. Immediately, the wondering and unnecessary details floating around in my head come to a stop. Instead I have a quiet heart at peace with the future. God and me laughing together, for my trust is in Him.

Where Am I?

This is a question I ask myself from time to time, especially when I first open my eyes in the morning. At first glance, I have to take in my surroundings to figure out where in the world I am. I think I'm realizing for the first time in my life what it means to be a sojourner.

A few years ago while living in Europe, I remember coming out of a deep sleep one morning when I thought I heard a car coming up over the hill where my parents live. I envisioned I was in the bedroom loft at Dad and Mom's on a warm summer day. The window was open and a lone car was driving by on the country road. It was a car I heard, but it wasn't in Pennsylvania, it was passing by on a small town street in Bosnia. I was off by an entire continent!

It was 2:00 a.m. last Friday morning when I left for the airport in an Asian country. Dennis would stay behind a few more days, and then head on to another country before returning to the states. My flight was the first of four that would take me home. Almost twenty-four hours later I landed in Chicago. As I entered the passport control area, I saw two signs: "Visitors with connecting flights enter here" and "Visitors with non-connecting flights enter here." Same line for both, spelled out clearly so any foreign visitors wouldn't be without question as to where to go. In the midst of other weary travelers deciphering where to go, I darted in the line for visitors. I knew I had one more leg in the journey, which was a connecting flight to Indy. The "connecting flight" was what caught my attention, and furthered my reasoning to enter the line for visitors.

I wasn't standing in line very long when I realized that the people in front of me and behind me all had foreign accents, all the while I had my U.S. passport in hand. :) Just when I was taking another look back at the signs to make sure I read them right, the young fellow behind me politely said with a heavy accent, "If you're an American, you belong in those lines," as he pointed across the way to rows of U.S. citizens standing in line. I'm sure he thought I didn't fly much and just didn't know any better, but who wouldn't realize that they were in their own country of citizenship?! I chalked it up to frequent travels and missing a good night's sleep.

Ducking under several crowd-control-belt barriers a bit embarrassed that a foreigner had to tell me that I was in the wrong line, I made my way to the "U.S. Citizens Only" line. By this time, the lines had filled in and I ended up waiting a lot longer than I would have, had I entered to begin with when I arrived in passport control. It might be a good idea to check with myself when I'm entering my home country. 

It is good to have a place to belong, and it always feels good to be "home," but I'm beginning to understand more than ever Paul's encouragement to the Philippi believers: We are citizens of heaven, where the Lord Jesus Christ lives (Phil.3:20). Sometimes those first waking moments of wondering where I am, even happen in my own home after a stretch of travels. Two citizenships: I am a citizen of the U.S.A., but I'm also a citizen of heaven. Paul reminds me, too: I am seated with Christ in the heavenly realms, because I am one with him (Eph. 2:6).  

So no matter where I am at in the world, my heart is always at home. Someday there will be a new heaven and a new earth - a place where everything is right with God. No longer a sojourner then, for I'll be truly home. Until then, I'll keep wandering and wondering, Where Am I? 

Side note: Speaking of home . . . we are soon to have a permanent residence in Indy! A blog post coming in the near future.