Area Codes.

Never realized quite how much significance can be found in 3 little numbers. Maybe it's because our family is spread out, maybe it's because we've moved 79 times, maybe it's because our friends have all moved 79 times... not sure why. But there is huge significance in the Area Codes that show up on my caller ID.

319: someone from my home farm in iowa is calling

563: some member of my family in iowa is calling from their cell phone

843: the beach. friends on the coast of south carolina are calling to check in
772: the other beach. friends calling.

515: governor of iowa. or my friend kim. usually kim

608: who IS that??? oh yeah. friends that moved to madison a couple years ago. still do not have their new numbers memorized

770, 678: someone new to me because i'm new to here

262, 414: someone from home, remembering us right now

I like the use of the word 'code' in 'area code'. It implies secret. It is a hint of something special, someone special. A secret clue to give me a hint about the gift on the other end of the code.

House Hunters.

We’re going to be on the HGTV show House Hunters! HOW do these things happen?!!
Simple “How to” list:
1. Email the producer. Describe our musical family and throw in a few jokes as well.
2. Answer the producer’s phone calls: be funny, witty, and try not to gush.
3. Prepare and enter our own home video: complete with children, jumpolines and a Top 10 List.
4. Answer the producer’s phone calls: Be funny, witty and try to sound as if producers call us all the time.
5. Sign a release form. Develop a meaningful relationship with the fax machine.

And after that? Well, we’ll let you know! They’ll be here on Wednesday to begin filming!

T-minus 12 and counting.

accountability partner hall of fame.

yesterday's post regarded the ridiculous gift from the Lord of moving an entire family to be with our family.

today, i would officially like to nominate peter jundt and his scary smart wife, heidi, into the accountability partners hall of fame. 

to move across the country to hold us accountable speaks of 2 things:

1. the jundt's depth of character, faithfulness and devotion

2. our depravity and need for accountability

how we see God's hand in this:

1. as we struggled for months to hear God's voice in this move, they sat for months with us and prayed

2. on the same day that john accepted the job here, peter lost his job there

3. heidi and i made a crazy 2.5 day trip down here to find a home for us

4. they were 'available' to help us move and spend 2 weeks with us here

5. heidi took isaac skateboarding while down here. she spoke to another mom at the park. and then the network began: one mom gave peter's resume to 3 contractors, who passed it on to 10 more firms and eventually peter got an interview, a call, another interview, and a new job

6. and the Lord was obvious. this one offer after 5 months of searching, eclipsed whatever else was out there.

7. in august i was bored. heidi and i took peter's computer and entered random 'things to do' on his calendar. including: buy a boat, make struedel, run for president and move to atlanta. we chose the random date of november 10 for 'move to atlanta'

peter's official start date has just been confirmed as november 10

when we entered it into his calendar he didn't even have an interview here

we are amazed

decades from now our children will look back at God's faithfulness and timing. their faith, like ours, will be stronger, deeper, richer because of this significant and profound moving of His hand in the lives of our 2 families.

they're coming.

seriously.

our friends, peter, heidi and their son isaac, have been a part of our life for years. even back when john had a comb and reason to use it, they were in our lives. 

we have walked thru the roughest seasons this earthly life can offer us. almost all of those seasons fall under the category of "losses". loss of family, loss of jobs, loss of passion, loss of nfl teams, etc. 

when the Lord called us to Atlanta, they helped us move. drove across the country and for 2 weeks unpacked, fixed, repaired, prayed, improvised and bridged a gap between what we knew and where we had landed.

and now the Lord is moving them here. to be with us.

WHO DOES THAT?

i continue to lose my thoughts in the middle of such unmerited, lavish favor from the Lord. He knew the most traumatic and brutal part of this move would be the separation from His people. we lost those who were comfortable, familiar, forgiving, hilarious, spontaneous, sensitive, and involved.

and then He sent them to us. 

WHO DOES THAT?

Roller Coasters.

I stand in line for hours to ride a roller coaster. Once I finally get to my turn, I will even wait a few extra minutes to get in the front seat. Then, with my husband next to me, I grab the bar in front and scream for nearly 3 minutes straight. 

Why do we do that? 

Our life right now is a lot like a roller coaster. 

Lots of ups, downs, unexpected curves and spiritual screaming. (is that even theologically sound?!).

The Lord reminded me today that I actually like roller coasters. That He is the Great Designer of the ultimate Thrill Ride. That He designed this particular ride (this season) with me in mind. I have waited for months for the ride to begin. Anticipated and dreamed of the fun, but also questioned the safety and wisdom.

Why do we do this?

Now, as the cart leaves the gate, and we have survived the first initial plummet into this new life, I realize that I'm not alone in the front car. In addition to John, the Lord very much wants to ride this ride, which He created, with me.

And one more thing.
The Lord may have actually asked me to stop screaming long enough to enjoy the ride.

Why do I do that?

Toaster.

Can't find it.
Anywhere.

We moved last week. A few days later our stuff moved. I sort of thought it would feel more like Christmas. 359 boxes, all for me to open!!!

Only, not so much. I lost interest after the first 9 boxes. It's not really Christmas if you already know what's in the box. And to be honest I just don't consider used rugs, flashlights without batteries and melted chocolate chips as great gifts.

We have hit a critical point in the unpacking process. It has to do with adrenaline, inertia, and gravity.
Bottom line: we are tired.

And we are without our toaster. Brave Little Toaster. Where are you? Are you somewhere in a box marked "Garden Tools"? or have you been dispatched to a child's room with a bunch of Transformers? or, perhaps the very worst has happened to you... maybe my generous neighbor, who helped me pack my kitchen up north, claimed you as a 'door prize' and is now enjoying my bagels.

So. We can't find it.
Anywhere.

First.

Today is the first.

The first welcome.
The first introduction.
The first new neighbors.
The first mail in the mailbox.
The first hug.
The first phone call.
The first missed turn.
The first night in the new house.

The first day I will cry all day.

We have lift-off.

Final.

Today is the final.

The final party.
The final day.
The final night.
The final meal.
The final hug.
The final laugh.
The final song.
The final dance.
The final scene.
The final prayer.

The final final.

T minus 1 and counting.

Milk and croutons.

As we prepare to move we are eliminating ‘stuff’. Even food stuff. Cleaning out the fridge and the pantry. Buying only what we need this week, eating what we already have.

So essentially we are down to milk and croutons. Not a tasty combination. Not a really good match either. Milk is innately perishable, dated and needs to be consumed in a timely manner. Croutons have the shelf life of cheeze whiz. Seriously. How do you know when a crouton goes bad? It gets harder? It dries up? It breaks a tooth when you bite it?

Maybe moving is a lot like milk and croutons. Facing the rapid evaporation of life here. Unable to preserve this life. Like trying to hold milk in the palm of your hand. But still consuming this life and getting great nourishment from it.

And confident that there are croutons. Little chunks of life here that will travel well with us, stories that will add flavor where we go, and memories that have an unending shelf life.

Maybe milk and croutons really do go well together.

T-Minus 6 and counting.

In-between.

Not quite there. Kind of not really here. Somewhere in-between.

Ever feel that way? It’s odd. Like being stuck in one of those old revolving doors. The kind that spin around, taking you from the outside to the inside. Supposedly from the rain filled streets to the well lit hotel.

But then you get in the revolving door on the day that Mrs. Hoeffer’s third grade class is visiting the city. And the other dividers fill up with giddy 9 year olds, running you around and around and around.

Never getting in, but never getting out either. Accomplishing nothing, but also not missing anything. Watching. Moving. Stepping. Still not there. But really not here either.

In 2 weeks we move across the country.

T-minus 16 and counting.

Moving.

There are only 2 hard things about moving:

1. missing out on the good times

2. missing out on the bad times.

Everything else will be fine.

Missing the good times is always tough. When you move away you miss birthday parties of close friends, holidays with family and celebrating milestones. I'll miss the 'good' of meeting a friend for Pepsi, preparing for a big event, and then having that post-wow get together with cake.

That's tough stuff.

But tougher still is missing the bad times. Not being here when children get sick, cars get into accidents, jobs are eliminated or any tragedy hits. To be far away when things are bad is far worse than being far away when good things happen.

Moving. Part 1

It's official. We are moving. From here to there. From Midwest to Southeast. From Racine to Atlanta. Nearly 700 emotions at work in my heart at any given time, so sorting thru them is impossible.

Listing the fears is helpful:

1. Our children: transition, friends, adjustment, schools.

2. Our home: selling this one and finding that one.

3. Timing: sharing the news in a way that honors each relationship.

4. Logistics: details terrify me. 

5. School: homeschool or public school?

6. Age: maybe we're too old to move. maybe our kids are.

7. well, you get the idea.