Kill the Marketing, Just Do Church

Our family has lived in San Antonio for almost nine months now. That's approximately thirty-six Sundays. Every one of those Sundays, give or take a few (we have done some traveling and had a sick Sunday here and there), we have attended a church service somewhere in town. A few of these churches we went back to a few times, but that still equals quite a few churches we've visited.

And we still haven't decided on a church home.

It's discouraging to me. I want to get settled. I want to get connected. I want to stop having the discussion every weekend about where we're going tomorrow, what time do they start again, which Sunday School class will we try out this time, yada yada. I promise that we're not blowing this off. We want to join up – we just want to be sure that we join up where God wants us.

A primary issue for us is that we want our girls to have a group in their church that they feel comfortable with and can grow alongside. And for our eldest, in particular, that is proving to be a challenge. But honestly, for me, I think there's something else in my way, and I haven't decided if this is a good thing in me or not . . . but here it is:

 

I am so done with the seeker-focused mega-church model.

I am tired of church-as-marketing-strategy. I just want to meet weekly with a group of people who are desperate for God and who are finding Him.

I am done with programmed worship. I’ve spent much of my last several years working with sermon schedules, writing dramas, helping plan worship services around themes, considering slogans, images, ways to create atmosphere . . . Lord knows, I am not a spontaneous person, and everything about this process should appeal to my nature, but I am done.

I want to sit at the feet (literally, if necessary) of a man (or woman) who is so fervently seeking God in his own life that what he is learning and experiencing spills out of his mouth spontaneously with passion and urgency. I’ll listen to him for a couple hours if it’s legit and Spirit-filled.

I want to sing with a group of people who are singing in genuine worship. I want to sing a song because the Spirit began singing a song in someone’s heart, and they began singing it out loud, and the Spirit within all of us agreed by joining in. I want to be with people who sing with abandon, not with precision. I want the lyrics to come from the heart and not the screen.

I want to make my entertainment entertainment and my worship worship. I don’t want to care a whit about the quality of the sound system, or the lighting, or the camera angles, or the video feed. I want to leave that stuff to concerts and plays – to legitimate performances.

I am done with creating a Sunday morning show that will draw people in. I want to worship with the people who are there to worship – and if that draws others, hallelujah. I’ve increasingly become convicted that the church should be a place where the believers gather to be believers, not to be whatever it is the world wants believers to be. Not an exclusive club that keeps people out . . . or a marketing program trying to attract people in . . . but an open assembly where we simply are who we are, and anyone is welcome to join us – we're thrilled to have you! – but we have no intention of doing anything differently to get you there or keep you there, because what we're doing is about God and not about us or you.

Am I completely off-base? Am I expecting too much? I don't know. But this is where I am. And we still don't know where we're going to church this Sunday morning.

Living In Medias Res

Every once in a while, you hear a sermon that you suspect was written specifically with you in mind.  Like the pastor was looking into your heart and soul and saw what was there and crafted his words around that need. Like he saw your car turn into the parking lot and said to everyone, "Quick! They're here! Switch out the bulletins -- I need to preach this instead!"

Our family had that experience yesterday at Woodlands Baptist Church. The text Pastor Vickrey chose for his sermon was Jeremiah 29:4-7. Judah has been conquered by the Babylonians and the Israelites taken into exile. False prophets are popping up everywhere, telling the people, "Oh, this is just a short term thing -- two years tops. Then we'll be back home again. Don't get too comfortable."

But Jeremiah (who always seemed to have the thankless job of delivering the unpopular news) tells them otherwise:

This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: “Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.” Yes, this is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: “Do not let the prophets and diviners among you deceive you. Do not listen to the dreams you encourage them to have. They are prophesying lies to you in my name. I have not sent them,” declares the Lord.

You're going to be here a while, Jeremiah tells them, so God wants you to bloom where you're planted. Continue to live life in medias res -- in the midst of things.

My eldest is viewing this San Antonio stint as a parenthetical episode in her life. She has no intention of growing any roots, making any connections, allowing any attachments. Once she graduates in May, she wants to return to Iowa. And she may very well do so. But I had to fight the urge to sneak peaks at her during this sermon to see if she was listening closely.

God has put you here for a reason.

This place is a part of God's plan.

You are to live through life, not around it.

Even I find, as we strive to get settled and feel settled, that it's hard to shake that transient feeling. We spent the last year and a half in Sioux City knowing we were going to be leaving any time. We lived in the apartment temporarily this summer . . . even moved into a temporary hotel room for a few days . . . I wrote last fall about tent-living and how I could relate to that.

And as I wrote last fall, I'm all the more convicted that believers are always supposed to feel that transient way, in a sense. This is not our home. We are only passing through.

But in the meantime, we are to bloom where we are planted in medias res.

How I Ended Up Crying in an Empty Church Parking Lot

I knew I needed to get a Texas driver's license. I figured there was no point until we had a permanent address to put on it. Not until I was signing papers to close on the house and the lady making a copy of my license said, “Do you know that your license has expired?” did I realize that I needed to get a move on.

Of course, right after the closing we had our hectic several days moving from apartment to house. I stopped by the DPS office soon after (because I couldn't get anyone there to answer the phone) and asked what all I would need to have with me to get this process done. Turned out, I needed to have my vehicle registered in Texas before getting a license. And turned out, I needed to have the vehicle inspected before I could get it registered.

And turned out, I needed to replace the tires and update the insurance before I could get it inspected. (They also said I needed a current and valid photo ID – I was about to panic about that Catch-22, but thank God, the inspection guy didn't say boo about my expired license.) While he was out of town the first week we were in the house, hubby worked on getting our insurance taken care of and finding the best price on tires. So, I got the tires replaced . . . got the inspection done . . . got the van registered . . . and finally, yesterday made it to the DPS office again with all my required paperwork in hand.

Or so I thought. After waiting to see an agent (a short wait, I'll admit) and waiting while she checked over everything and signed various items, she suddenly asked where my marriage license was. Uh . . . nobody told me I needed my marriage license. Turned out, I did. So, I drove home, got it, drove back, and waited to see an agent again.

Waited through the paperwork again. Did the computer touch-screen driver's exam (86.6%, thank you very much). Scheduled a road test for 2:20pm yesterday afternoon. (No, I did not know going in that I was going to need to take a road test – but whatever.) Then I went home for lunch and a short nap. (Did I mention that I am still lousy sick? Yeah . . . )

So, I drove my third trip of the day back to the DPS office for my road test . . . only to be informed by my tester (after he'd already started paperwork and looked over my brake lights and all) that he couldn't give me my test because I didn't have my Texas tags on the van yet. I showed him I had them in the car with me – I just got them yesterday! No go.

I tried to smile. I went in and scheduled another road test – the earliest opening was Thursday morning. Then I drove to the empty church parking lot next door to the DPS office, sat in my car, and cried for a while.

Now, I realize it is ridiculous that this should bring me to tears. I have friends in the hospital right now. I have friends with seriously ill children. Friends with teenagers on drugs. I have friends who have lost their jobs . . . friends whose marriages are on the rocks . . . even in light of the trials our own family has gone through for the past couple years, this is minimal.  I know all that.

But you know, maybe it's a woman thing. I just needed to cry. As I've said before, sometimes, for a woman, crying is like sweating. It's a release of tension. I just had to get it out. Then I pulled myself together, stopped for a pack of Twinkies (don't judge me) and went to pick up my daughter.

And yes, I drove with my expired Iowa license.  Lord help the cop who stops me -- he'll get an earful.

Where Does the Hot Glue Gun Go?

I've been racking my brain this morning trying to think of something brilliant to write about, but my brain is full of unpacking.  I've been unpacking for a week now.  The pile of broken-down boxes on the front porch shows how much I've accomplished, yet the house is still a mess.

I started out basically opening boxes and figuring out what's inside (the labels the movers wrote on the outsides are not all that helpful, really) . . . and then moving them to the correct room.  It seemed like they were asking me where to put almost every single thing they brought in the door, but apparently they slipped some stuff in without questioning me and just made educated guesses -- usually incorrect ones.

Then I started pulling out and putting away stuff that was essential to our daily life: kitchen items, clothes, bathroom stuff, school supplies, etc.  I tried to organize the main living spaces and bedrooms to some degree so we could feel a little more comfortable and at home in at least those parts of the house.

I set aside boxes with nonessentials to be dealt with later: decorative items, old toys, and my piles and piles of books.  Frankly, it's pretty amazing how many nonessentials we have.  I also haven't touched the garage items, because the garage is hubby's territory and I'll let him organize it when he's done traveling (although I did, unsuccessfully, try to maneuver things around so we could fit both cars in the garage -- not happening yet).

But I've kind of come to a lull in the progress. Now I'm dealing with that middle mass of stuff -- things that are not essential for daily survival right now but that we do want easy access to.  Like, where do I store the cleaning supplies?  Where do I put our "office" files?  How about the cooking items I don't use as often?  The board games (we have tons of those, too)?  The last house had more built-in storage in the main living areas.  Now I have to create storage or put things in less accessible places . . . or get rid of stuff.

And I'm actually doing that.  Pat me on the back.  I have a couple boxes set aside to put things in that I'm intending to take to the Goodwill drop-off just down the road.  Eventually.

I really do like this process, the organizing of our lives.  It's just a long and slow process when we have to continue to live life in the meantime.  Anyone want to make a bet on when the last box is unpacked and broken down?  I think I'll be lucky if it's by Christmas.

And More Updates

So, I think it's time for some updates on the Kandt family's progress here in San Antonio.

• As of yesterday, we are officially moved into our new house. Hallelujah! We thought we were moving in last Friday, but the movers couldn't make it by then. We had to be out of the apartment by noon Friday, so we were in a hotel room over the weekend. I have spent a lot of time the last several days carrying our family's necessaries up and down stairs, between apartment, hotel room, and house. I should have lost weight. But I bet I haven't.
• As of last Wednesday, we weren't going to have internet, cable or phone at the new house until the 13^th. That was almost worthy of a big cry. That's a week and a half in our house without things that have become much too necessary in our lives. But I've been checking with AT&T a few times a day, hoping for cancellations in their installation schedule . . . and my persistence paid off! They're coming to install this Friday! Another hallelujah!
• As the movers were unloading yesterday morning, my husband left town for a week-long business trip. That really stinks. It was sad being here in our new house last night without him. I miss him a lot.
• I already wrote about my youngest's cross country experience. But the afternoon of that first meet, she also auditioned for “A Christmas Carol” at a local youth theater. We got word Monday evening that she was cast as the Ghost of Christmas Present! A pretty significant role for her first play there – and probably as big of a role as she could get as a female in that show. Her audition there was different than we've experienced anywhere else. They took each kid into a room behind the stage where they listened to their memorized one-minute monologue (my daughter did an excerpt from the book: Scrooge's fiancée releasing him) and had them do a short reading from the play. Nobody saw anyone else's audition. Not sure what I think of that. But I'll say this: while I was waiting for her to come out, I was thinking, If I were casting this play, I'd cast her as the Ghost of Christmas Present. So, of course, I assume this director is brilliant. :)
• The oldest is plugging along in school. It is definitely more academically challenging than Sioux City East was. She was assigned a C.S. Lewis essay to read and answer questions about, and even I found it pretty difficult. Next week, they have a required overnight retreat for the juniors and seniors that she doesn't want to go to. She doesn't like being away from home anyway, and she doesn't know too many people at school very well yet. I'm hoping it ends up being a good experience for her. She also can't get over the strict uniform guidelines (only black hair ties?  No bracelets or necklaces?). But I think she looks darn cute in her uniform, actually.
• The youngest is enjoying school. She even comes home anxious to do homework. We'll see how long that lasts!
• I'm unpacking. And I'm really tired. But it's a good tired. I love my new house, and I'm enjoying making it our own. But I do wish my husband was here. And the internet was on. And the cable TV.  Okay, I'll stop whining now. 

Being Needy

A couple days ago, my eldest's English teacher sent home an email with an attachment for a release form we needed to print out, sign, and send back to school for her.  I had to write her back and tell her that we are in temporary housing at the moment with no access to a printer . . . could she give my daughter a hard copy to bring home to me?

A minor incident, I know, but it seems like there are a hundred little moments like this every day.  And this particular moment sent me over the mental edge finally:  I'm tired of being needy. 

A few friends may balk at what might seem like a casual hyperbolic use of the word "needy".  But a wonderful book recommended by a friend after my recent posts about how rich and poor think (A Framework for Understanding Poverty) defined "poverty" as "the extent to which an individual does without resources."  And there are many necessary resources in life beyond financial resources:

- emotional
- mental
- spiritual
- physical
- support systems
- relationship/role models
- knowledge (such as of hidden rules)

These are the types of resources I have felt sorely lacking in . . . particularly for the last couple months, but also for a couple years now, since the unemployment saga started. 

Oftentimes, the resources are there.  I mean, I had plenty of support systems and relationships to turn to in Sioux City when needs arose. And I had no qualms about asking for help -- we all have difficult times in our lives, and God intends for us to depend on each other.  We are created a social people.   But there comes a point, after a while, when you are tired of asking for help.  Tired of leaning on others. 

We've been able to use the "new to town" excuse for a couple months now here in San Antonio, and I expect we'll have a legitimate claim on that for quite some time.  But it's already getting old.  Sorry, we're new to town and I don't know where this is . . . Sorry, we're new to town and I'm not sure where I can get that . . . Sorry, I didn't know what the traffic would be like . . . Sorry, I didn't know this was the case . . . I don't know how that's done . . . Sorry . . . I'm sorry . . .

Two benefits coming out of this extended stint of neediness.  One, I have all the more empathy for those whose similar neediness is not temporary.  How exhausting and humbling to never quite have all the resources available to you that "society" expects folks to have.

And two, although I'm longing to get back to a feeling of being on top of things and in control of my life and comfortable . . . I have a feeling God doesn't want me there at all.  I have a feeling God would be quite happy if this unsettledness became my new norm so I learn how to lean on Him daily -- hourly -- and not on my own resources.

Not sure I'm happy about that, but I'll get there.  One step at a time.

Stressssssss

Yes, I'm a day late getting a blog posted. Life is ju-u-ust a bit crazy right now. In what sense, you ask? Well . . .

• My eldest started school yesterday. Senior year at a new school = a big deal. Her day seemed to go well, but she doesn't have any homework yet (other than the assignment the other AP English kids were given to do over the summer that she was given an extra month to complete).
• Although my youngest doesn't start school until Thursday, I had to attend a teacher training session at her school yesterday and will be there again today. As I described in an earlier post about her school, she does two days' worth of school at home, so we are given extensive instruction on how the school does things so we're all working together well.
• 
  I'm figuring out the transportation thing: that is, how to get two kids to two different schools in different parts of town on time – and picked up, as well. In a couple weeks, another eighth grade mom will be able to do some carpooling with us that will help that situation, but for right now, it's all me, and I'll be spending a lot of time in my Honda Odyssey learning the ropes of the San Antonio road system.
• My husband is out of town all week at some training of his own in New York City. A lot of bummer things about that.
• At about lunchtime today, my eldest's two best friends from New Jersey are coming for an eight-day visit. They planned this trip back in May, before we knew that the girls' school would already be in session and we'd still be in our two-bedroom apartment. Ah, well. We are all excited about them coming – they're good friends, and it has been a long time!
• The youngest is trying to work up her endurance for cross country by running in the heat of the afternoon every day . . . which means when mom is home, she gets to join her running in the heat of the afternoon every day. Ugh.
• Did I mention that we're still in the two-bedroom apartment?

Even this post, I'm typing at my meeting location for the day because for some reason, out of nowhere, my computer can't get internet access at the apartment and I don't have time to call someone to get it figure out.  !!!! 

But you know what?  I turn 45 today.  Before I go to bed tonight, I'm going to indulge myself in a big bowl of Sweet CiCi's frozen yogurt loaded up with candy goodies and say happy birthday to me!  :) 

"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well."

And We Have a New House!

And it's been a long time coming.  After much difficult finagling with some interesting homeowners, we have a contract on a new home here in San Antonio!


Here's our front "yard".  This is actually a little walled in courtyard at the front of the house.  Yes, tons of plants.  And yes, we've already discussed my black thumb.  We may have to hire someone to teach me how to keep this stuff alive -- or to just keep it alive for me.  Or maybe hubby will be better at that than I am.

The master bedroom is to the right in that photo -- with a door coming out to the courtyard.  Very much looking forward to that.

The kitchen is in that lit up window just about in the center.  Family room to the left of that. The laundry room is off of the family room and goes straight into the garage if you keep moving left.  A dining room is to the right of the kitchen, as are stairs.

The upstairs patio comes from the upstairs "living area" directly behind it and there's another door to it from a bedroom to the right.  Two more bedrooms upstairs (but only one bathroom -- that's one of the minuses of the place).

No basement.  No basements anywhere that we found in San Antonio.  Apparently the ground is too rocky to make it feasible to dig basements.  That's why almost every house we looked at had the upstairs living area.



 

 



Here's that family room I said was to the left.  With the previous homeowners' furniture, of course.  All of these photos were taken on my phone, so excuse the poor quality. (And my inability to maneuver the spacing here to be more aesthetically pleasing.)
















And here's the kitchen.  Yes, those blue blocks let in sunlight.














And here's the view from the front door to that dining area I said was to the right of the kitchen (stairs to the right of this).  And again, this is still the current homeowners' furniture.



I won't bore you with more photos.  You get the idea.  :)




We're hoping to be moved in by Labor Day.  Hubby is going back to Sioux City at the end of this week to be there while the movers back up our stuff.  We are SO anxious to be back in a real house with all of our possessions available to us again.  (Although we will have to get rid of a lot of stuff -- this house is much smaller.)



And this means, by October or so, we will be ready for visitors!  Lots of stuff to do in San Antonio, friends.  SeaWorld, Six Flags, the Alamo . . .

Apartment Living

There are advantages and disadvantages to a family of four living in a two-bedroom furnished apartment.

ADVANTAGE:  When you misplace something, there just aren't too many places for the thing to be.

DISADVANTAGE: When you want some time alone, there just aren't too many places for you to be.

ADVANTAGE: No lawn care or yard work.

DISADVANTAGE:  No garage -- and the Texas sun can make your car darn hot.

ADVANTAGE:  The laundry room is just a few steps away from both bedrooms, both bathrooms, and the kitchen.

DISADVANTAGE: Four people sharing two double beds.  (They may be queens -- hubby and I haven't figured that out yet.  We're so spoiled with our king, anything else makes for a rough night.  Our daughters have started taking turns sleeping on the sofa.)

ADVANTAGE:  An air-conditioned workout room and two pools all just a two-minute walk away.

DISADVANTAGE: A flight of stairs to climb to get back into the apartment -- especially odious after a half-hour in the workout room.

ADVANTAGE:  The mental challenge of figuring out how to operate new appliances.  (Our toaster has a "cancel" button on it.  Hmph.)

DISADVANTAGE:  The aggravation of learning how to operate new appliances.  (It took me all day the first day of doing laundry to figure out which setting on the dryer would actually dry my clothes.)

ADVANTAGE:  Someone to call immediately when an appliance is messed up. (Like when I come home after three hours and the dishwasher is still running and the dial hasn't moved.)

DISADVANTAGE:  Missing cooking supplies.  (I bought a blueberry muffin mix at the store . . . only to remember when I got home that we don't have a muffin tin.)

ADVANTAGE:  The creative new meal options resulting from having to make do.  (Blueberry muffin-bread, anyone?)

DISADVANTAGE: Phone calls and mail for previous owners.  (We haven't given out the apartment phone number to anyone -- I don't even know what it is -- so when the phone rings, we just let it ring.  We know it's not for us.  And it rings and rings and rings.  AND apparently there have been at least two different counselor/psychologists in our apartment before us.  I'm enjoying skimming their professional journals and magazines, but I wonder if they're missing them.)

ADVANTAGE: Setting the thermostat wherever we want because we don't pay that bill.  (Although hubby likes it much colder than we do, as does everyone in San Antonio, it seems.  I take a hoodie along to wear when I go into buildings because the air conditioner is set so low.  They do love their extremes here.)

DISADVANTAGE:  The overabundance of togetherness.

ADVANTAGE:  The overabundance of togetherness.

The girls are griping now, but I expect in several years, they'll look back with some fond memories of these couple of months.  Or at least their moments of misery here will seem amusing.  :)

Updates . . .

And so we start our new life in San Antonio:

- It is HOT in San Antonio.

- We got here Saturday afternoon and have been moving our stuff into hubby's apartment.  It should be very interesting to have the four of us living together in a two-bedroom apartment for a while -- particularly with the girls sharing a room.  Our eldest has already informed us that she expects to punch one of us in the face before it's all over.  Something to look forward to.

- I am much more comfortable trying to navigate the traffic here in my own vehicle than I was driving my husband's on our previous visits.

- I went to the grocery store yesterday to buy food for us for the week.  Two observations:  one, I know it's always a bit disconcerting to shop in a new grocery store, but this HEB was huge and quite intimidating.  They even sell clothes there.  You know how Walmarts started adding groceries?  This was like a grocery store adding a Walmart.  I couldn't believe how long it took me to get the shopping done.

And two, it's amazing how much food you need to cover the basics for a family of four for a week.  You don't realize how much stuff you just assume is in stock in your well-stocked kitchen until it isn't in stock anymore.  Starting from scratch is costly.

- And it is really hot here in San Antonio.

- However, the mornings and evenings are rather pleasant.  I brought a couple folding chairs and hubby and I sat out on the balcony last night for a while.  Noisy traffic in front of our faces, but at least there is one big tree there blocking some of the view.  It reminded me for a bit of our first year of marriage when we lived in St. Louis, both of us finishing school -- young, poor, newlywed students.

- The youngest is going to Novice Speech Camp this week (and Novice Debate Camp next week).  She was supposed to go to a drama camp this week, but it was cancelled -- and she was very disappointed.  She's not so sure about this Speech camp because she doesn't like making speeches.  But I think she will like the interpretive speeches -- that's basically acting.  We'll see if she likes it (and debate) enough to join the team in the fall.  I kind of hope she does just because I always wished I had taken speech and debate.  Valuable skills to be learned there.

- The eldest is still in mourning, but at least in quiet mourning.  We've got to get back to our online driver's ed class so she can start taking the in-car lessons soon now that we're here.  I wish she wanted to drive as much as we want her to drive.  Now the youngest . . . she's itching to get in a car, but she will have to wait an extra year for her permit here in Texas.  And don't you know she's not happy about that.

- And folks, it is darn HOT in San Antonio!!  But then, it looks like it's pretty hot all over the Midwest these days.  Thankful for a pool in the apartment complex.

House-hunting this afternoon . . . gotta find a house . . .

On the Road Again

The first post I posted on this blog was on October 8th, 2008.  I wrote it from a hotel in Somerset, PA on the first night of our trip driving from New Jersey to our new home in Sioux City.  I realized that last night as I talked to a friend about our leaving Sioux City today for our trek to our new home, San Antonio.

Something feels a little surreal about that.

I started this blog strictly for a way to keep our Jersey friends informed about our new lives, so I didn't have to write fifty or sixty emails to all the people who wanted to know how we were settling in.  Certain topics invited more personal reflection on my part, and I soon got feedback on those posts that my friends were really liking them.  My pastor even read part of one during a sermon, I was told.  So when I got to the point that we were settled in and there wasn't much transitioning to be reporting about, I let the blog kind of evolve into something of a public journal . . . fully expecting to lose most of my readers.

I didn't.  And as the years have gone by, I've gained many, many more.  I've said this over and over: I never cease to be amazed that there's anyone out there who is interested in the weird workings of my brain. 

So this blog has, in a sense, helped define my time in Sioux City. Now that I'm leaving, it makes me wonder if anything will change in the blog.  I was tempted to sit down last night and read through all of my posts, just to relive my Sioux City experience . . . but there's 652 of them, and I've got too much packing and cleaning to do.  But just glancing through some of the titles reminds me of how much I -- and the rest of my family -- have grown and changed over these five years.

I'm going to cry as I drive away today.  Closing doors and ending seasons is always hard.  And I have a daughter who will be grieving in a serious way who will need my strength and comfort.  But we've done this before, and God has always been faithful.

And in all honesty . . . I can not WAIT to see what God has in store for us in San Antonio!!

Waiting

There is a Catholic tradition about a place called Limbo.  Because I'm not Catholic, I don't know much about the theory, but as I understand it, this is a spot in the spiritual world where souls go to after death when, for whatever reason, they are not destined for heaven but also not destined for hell.  Apparently, they have to hang out here for a while until their eternal destiny is determined . . . by what means, I'm not sure.  But it is an in-between place -- where you are neither here nor there.  There is no Biblical basis for a belief in such a place, so I don't believe there is a Limbo in the afterlife.

But I know there is a Limbo on earth.  I'm living there.

Our family had plans to leave Sioux City for San Antonio permanently at the end of this week.  But we had a family conference last night (via Skype for hubby, who is in New York this week for some kind of training) and decided to put that off until the second week of July.  Our house here hasn't sold -- we don't have a house there -- we have no specific reason to be there until drama camp for the youngest the third week of July . . . so we'll wait here.  In Limbo.

Not that I dislike Sioux City.  It's just that we've been mentally preparing to leave for a year and a half now, and "socially" preparing for a couple of months (dropping out of things, cutting ties, saying goodbyes), and I've been physically preparing for the last week or so since we got back from our trip to SA.  And now we're going to sit for a while.

Frankly, I don't know what to do with myself. 

My eldest said to sit and relax.  Treat it like a vacation.  Well, maybe I'm weird, but I can only "sit and relax" for so long before I feel like a worthless slob. 

It almost feels silly.  There has to be plenty of stuff I can do to entertain myself for the next two and a half weeks.  But I think that's the problem -- I feel like I'm wasting two and a half weeks of my life searching for "entertainment".  Is there something wrong with me?  I don't know.  I just want to move forward with life.

But apparently God has other plans.  Okey dokey.  I'll deal with it.  It just gets awkward saying "good-bye" to people again and again when they see you and thought you were already gone.  You start to feel like the boy who cried wolf.

There's a reason.  Surely there is.  I just gotta find it.

Bracing and Embracing

We fly back home today, and when we leave home the next time, it will probably be for good -- that is, it will no longer be home the next time we return.  The reality of that has started to sink in.

Sioux City has been a good place for us.  Lots of great things happened there.  Lots of trying times, too.  All four of us are different people than we were when we arrived almost five years ago.  God has done mighty things in our lives in our time there.  When hubby first lost his job, I didn't feel ready to leave -- I was too happy with the life we had.

But after a year and a half of closing doors and anticipating change, I'm ready for the change.  I'm ready for a new start -- a new house, new schools, new work, new church, new activities, new weather, new recreation, new friends . . . all of it.  Not that I won't miss the old, but we've moved enough to know that God always has wonderful things in store for us in a new place.  I've been very excited anticipating the new things.

Now it's time to close the final door on the old things, though, and I'm preparing for the grieving that will set in for the next couple of weeks.  All the "lasts".  Last Sunday morning at Sunnybrook.  Last party with the drama kids. Last shopping trip at Hyvee.  Last night sleeping in our bedrooms.  Many tears are coming. 

Bracing myself for the tears . . . but also trying to embrace the tears.  The sadness is only an indication of how important to us the things are that we are leaving.  And we want to celebrate the things in life that are important to us, that change us, that make us who we are.  No way to avoid the sadness, so we may as well indulge and let it wash over us and do its complete cleansing.

So, I don't know how much I'll be blogging in the next couple weeks . . . or how insightful they will be.  I may just be a blubbering, stressed-out mess for a while.  But whether or not you continue to read through my blubbers, I'd appreciate any prayers you think to shoot up on our behalf.  Transitions are hard.

Home Observations

So, if you read last Friday's blog, you know we looked at sixteen houses over the last few days.  We narrowed it down to our top two or three and are getting ready to make an offer on one.  I won't elaborate on all that until we actually have a house -- then you can get all the details.  But boy, looking in on people's houses is an interesting thing.

A couple of these were empty.  But there were a couple which were not being lived in but were still "staged" with furniture.  The agent said that there are furniture companies in town who will dress up your house for a fee, with the hopes that the people who buy the house like the furnishings enough to buy them.  Pretty darn smart, I say.  But it's kind of funny the stuff they put out to make the place look "homey".  One house had a lovely wooden tray in the middle of the kitchen island with a few loaves of artificial bread on it.  It added a very nice ambience to the kitchen -- but really, how many people do you know who have random loaves of artsy-looking breads sitting out in the kitchen to dry out? 

One of the tips we got a while back when we were selling the house was to have every light in the house on when we left for a showing.  It really surprised me how often we went in a house and had to hunt for lights -- and these were cloudy days, so it really did make a difference.  A couple houses had soft music playing.  Aha!  There's a good idea.  Gotta add that one to our show-prep routine.

Essentially, you know, the goal here is to make the house look NOT like a place where people actually live.  The goal is to create an image.  "The people in this house listen to classical music, hide away their shampoo and razors in the bathroom, and eat three loaves of artsy-looking bread every couple of days before they get a chance to dry out.  If I live in this house, I'll be that kind of person, too!  Ooh!  I want to buy this house!"  Really, rich people aren't as smart as you'd think.

One trend that I noticed in most (if not all) of the houses: a separate "living area" by the bedrooms, especially if there was a second floor.  The intention being, I presume, that the kids of the house would hang out there.  Now, I see some advantages to that.  Toys not being underfoot in the main area of the house.  When you're entertaining, the kids have their own area to be in while the adults visit in the main living space.  Essentially, I guess, these took the place of a basement in most houses -- basements are rare around here, apparently, because the ground is too rocky to dig down that deep.

But it kind of made me sad to think of designating different parts of the house for the kids to "live" in away from the parents.  I mean, I want to see my family when I'm home with them.  Yes, I get tired of the Disney channel and all, but I would rather watch "Good Luck Charlie" all day long and actually interact with my kids than send them off to another part of the house for the bulk of our lives.

Of course, you may want to ask me that again by the end of the summer.  We'll start our stint in San Antonio living in a two bedroom apartment for a while.  I may have my fill of togetherness by August!

The Evolving Dream House

So, we're in San Antonio again -- this time, officially, on a house-hunting mission.  Hubby has been out with the realtor in all his spare time in the last week or so and has narrowed the list of possibilities down to about . . . sixteen.

Sixteen.  He narrowed it to sixteen.  That gives you an idea of how many total houses he's been looking at.  I'm so glad I have him.

Somebody asked the girls and I recently what we were looking for in a house.  All each girl really wanted was her own room -- and her own bathroom, although I told them not to hold their breath for that one. 

I wasn't so sure what I was looking for.  I remember when we bought our first house in Hutchinson, Kansas.  One of the things I so wanted then was a "craft room" -- a separate room where I could store all my craft supplies and work on projects without having a mess out in the living area.  LOL!  (Literally, I'm laughing out loud.)  How I have changed since then.  I have a cross-stitch project I started before my 13-year-old was born, and I can't seem to make myself finish it.  I'm kinda done with the crafty thing.

When we bought our house in Springfield, Missouri, having a guest room was a big deal because we were going to be further away from family and when people came to visit, they would need a place to sleep.  And I discovered there the pleasures of a tub with Jacuzzi jets (something I've really only used and valued a lot when I've been pregnant) and a large walk-in closet -- both items which went on the wish list gioing forward. 

By the time we were moving to New Jersey, I had a child and much more family-living experience, and I had different desires.  I wanted a separate dining room.  I'm not even sure why now, but I did.  I wanted lots of storage space.  I wanted a real, wood-burning fireplace.  I wanted a basement, or some kind of play area where we could put the kid's toys and they wouldn't be underfoot all the time.  And I wanted a rural feeling in the environment (a challenge to find in New Jersey, but we did it). 

When we moved to Sioux City, with two children now in tow, I wanted everything we'd had before . . . plus a homeschool space.  And a three-car garage (we expected to add a driver while we were there). 

But I feel like I'm coming into this search with a different mindset.  I don't know if it was the long period of unemployment . . . or the consideration of a move to Panama . . . but I have very little I feel like I need in a house right now.  In fact, we'll be living in hubby's apartment for a while, I expect, and I feel content with that.  When my friend asked what I wanted in a house, all I could think of that I would really covet was a nice, shady back porch or deck with an attractive view where I could sit and work and visit and read and relax.  Having a door to that from the master bedroom would be even better.  Maybe I'm getting old.

But hubby did mention a house with a library.  A library.  Oh, yeah.  That would be nice.

Safety and Formula in Worship

Moving to a new town means finding a new church -- a process I don't enjoy at all.  Hubby has visited two churches now in San Antonio.  One was John Hagee's Cornerstone Church.  He said, "It's quite a performance.  I don't think it's where we want to go, but it's probably something you'll want to experience."  He lost me at performance.

The other we visited with him again last Sunday.  It's a small (by Texas standards) Baptist church near his apartment.  We both grew up Baptist, though we haven't attended a Baptist church for about 20 years for various reasons.  However, doctrinally, I think that's still where we live, so it might be kind of nice to come home to a Baptist church again.

This is not your ordinary Baptist church, though.  They said (in their visitors' materials) that since there are so many churches in the area that offer the high-energy, loud, praise-band style of worship (and I don't doubt that), they intentionally made the choice to focus on the more reverential, traditional style.  They have a full-choir, in robes, with piano and organ.  They sing traditional hymns and sing them with gusto, according to hubby (he said their passion while singing was moving in itself).  Last Sunday was Children's Sunday and the kids choir led the service, so the girls and I didn't get to see the whole enchilada, so to speak, but it was still a breath of fresh air.

Now, here's what threw me.  The pastors wore robes.  I've never seen a Baptist pastor in a robes.  And they apparently follow the traditional "church calendar":  last Sunday was Ascension Sunday -- next week is Pentecost Sunday.  I've NEVER heard of a Baptist church following the church calendar.

And I've never attended a church that followed the church calendar.  And I'm wondering if I want to.  Much as I liked so many things about the church, the teaching aspects of the service felt routine, ritualized . . . safe.  Too safe.  The Holy Spirit is not routine, nor ritualized, and most definitely is not safe.  (As Mr. Beaver said about Aslan: "Safe?  Of course he isn't safe.  But he's good.")  Not that every other worship style doesn't have their routines and rituals and safe zones . . . so maybe my hesitation is just about the newness, not the formulaic-ness.

I've become rather weary of the mega-church, programmed worship model, so I'm up for something different.  Whether this is it, I don't know.  But I would love to hear from friends who do the church calendar thing and find out how that works for them.

San Antonio: First Impressions

The girls and I have spent the weekend in San Antonio with the hubby -- neighborhood browsing, school shopping, and generally sight-seeing.  Our first introduction to our new hometown. 

I'll admit, part of me was a bit wary of moving to a big city.  I've really enjoyed the size of Sioux City -- big enough to have just about anything you need there, small enough to not have to deal with bad traffic, gangs, etc.  And the traffic here was a big daunting when I first started driving around in it Friday morning. 

But I tell ya . . . San Antonio knows how to manage traffic.  All the streets are wide (a big difference with the other major urban area I've spent a lot of time in, South Jersey).  Hubby's office is right off of "loop 1604", a big highway that loops around the outskirts of town, so we've spent a lot of time around the north stretch of that highway.  A six-lane highway . . . with three-lane frontage roads.  I mean, this thing is huge.  But it is amazingly efficient to travel on.  Those wide frontage roads are the key: you have the right lane for turning in and out of businesses and such, the left lane for merging onto and off of the freeway, and the center lane for through traffic -- which, except for the stoplights at crossroads, can flow almost as smoothly and quickly as the freeway.  And the entrances and exits to the freeway are far enough from the crossroads that you have plenty of time to get into the lane you need to be in.  Really, it's pretty darn slick.

And my thought was, they had to have put this huge highway in long before the businesses popped up, because otherwise, adding the frontage roads would have required tearing down all the businesses and moving them.  And apparently they did build the highway first ("if you build it, they will come . . .").  Hubby says the highway is just as wide around the south end of town, where it kind of seems like a waste because it's not nearly as built up in the south.  Optimism.  Planning ahead rather than catching up.

My other initial observation:  San Antonio is very green.  Much greener than I expected.  I've always imagined Texas, particularly west Texas, as vast tracts of empty, dry land.  I mean, in my head, I knew they had ranches and stuff down here, so they must have enough green grass to support all their cattle. 

But San Antonio is beautiful.  Lot of lovely trees and rolling hills.  The mall we went to yesterday afternoon had an open courtyard throughout the center with trees and water fountains.  And the River Walk downtown . . . oh, my goodness!  Just gorgeous.  Not only green and natural, but with stone bridge built for walkways over the river. 

So, all in all, I'm flying out today with a good impression of our upcoming stomping grounds.  Now, if we could just find a home . . . and sell our home in Sioux City . . . anyone interested in a two-story on the south edge of Morningside?

Things I Will Miss . . .

Things I will miss when my husband leaves tomorrow to go work in San Antonio:

- Someone to keep the lawn mowed.

- Half of the clothes in the laundry basket.

- Someone to answer the stupid phone while we're in the basement doing school.

- Hearing the garage door open and knowing he's about to walk in the door.

- A tired body in a sweaty t-shirt returning from basketball with the guys and responding to my inquiry with, "Puh, I should just quit and never play again" . . . or "Yeah, I should just go pro now and get it over with."

- A reason to keep peanut butter in the pantry and Diet Cokes cold in the fridge.

- One more person relieving me of one more meal to cook each week.

- The random bad jokes . . . and the good ones.

- The warm body in bed beside me, and the hand reaching over to find mine when the alarm goes off in the morning and I'm still too groggy to talk.

- Someone to keep air in the van's back left tire that leaks.

- A loving voice telling me I'm beautiful all day long when I feel fat, slovenly, and crawl-under-a-rock worthless.

- Someone to do tag-team parenting with when my frustration and exhaustion reaches its limit.

- A pair of eyes whom I want to please motivating me to NOT quit school early for lunch because I'm sick of science . . . to NOT snack on a tub of ice cream . . . to get up and do some exercise instead of playing a few more rounds of Sudoku . . .

- The car parked on the right side of the garage that I have to maneuver around.

- Someone to figure out why __________ isn't working right.

- Seeing his wedding ring when I hold his hand.

- The alarm going off at 5:30 on Friday mornings reminding me that my husband cares enough about his walk with Christ to give up precious sleep and go meet with a couple guys at Hyvee for breakfast and accountability.

- An intimidating presence to scare the boyfriend into treating the daughter right.

- Praying together at night.

- Someone to watch the news with me.

- The hugs and kisses and snuggles, on demand, whenever I need or want them.


SIGH.  Only a couple months.  Thank God for emails, and texts, and Skype, and unlimited long-distance . . .

On Clutter, Carpet Stains, and Baseboards

So, we're getting the house ready for showing -- a couple of realtors are stopping by today and tomorrow.  This process mainly consists of three things: 1) packing up stuff to put temporarily in storage so the house looks less cluttered, 2) covering up the nicks and scratches and other little evidences that human life occurred here, and 3) deep cleaning.  And when I come up for air enough to think about what I'm doing, I have these thoughts:

- This stuff that we're putting away in storage . . . why do we have it?  We have a big house; how is it possible that we could have so much stuff that this big of a house could ever look "cluttered"?  Well, one primary reason is because we have stuff that we attach a sentimental value to and can't get rid of.  Why do we put emotional value on things?  I remember talking about this in scrapbooking classes I taught.  Moms asked me, what do I do about all the pictures my little girl drew, all the papers my little boy brought home from school . . . ?  I said, spread them out on the dining room table, take a picture of them, and toss them.  Put the picture in the scrapbook so you remember what they did.  You simply can't keep everything.  Keep the memory, not the thing.

- Even weirder, we have stuff that doesn't mean much of anything to us, but it was given to us by somebody and it apparently meant a lot to them.  So, we keep it for their sake.  Those people may not ever even come to our house -- or if they do, they may never notice that that particular item is nowhere to be seen.  But we keep it, just in case.  Weird.

- We're touching up paint, polishing wood, attacking old carpet stains.  I have to admit, the house looks nice.  Why don't we care this much about how the house looks when we're just living in it every day?  Why are we satisfied to live in drabness when a couple days of work a year makes it looks so much nicer -- and saves us days of hard labor like this when it's time to sell the house?  We're too lazy to do nice things for ourselves.

- When I'm looking at houses to buy, do I notice if the baseboards are dirty?  Do I see small cobwebs in the high corners of the ceiling?  If I do, do they make me not want to buy the house?  Am I really only interested in buying and living in a house that looks perfect and unlived in?

Okay, that's all the time I have for reflection.  Back to the baseboards.

Texas-Bound

So, for those who didn't get the word via Facebook, hubby accepted a job offer last Friday!    We'll be moving to San Antonio soon.  Very happy about this job and very happy about the move . . . although a bit anxious about all the details involved.  Moving is a stressful thing, even when it's a good thing.

Because I know I have friends and readers who are also pray-ers, I'm going to be selfish and ask for a lot of prayers over the next few months.  Specifically, here's my list:

1) A new home.  An important decision in so many ways.  And there are some factors of that decision that we don't have much control over.  I would love for us to live in a neighborhood where we connect with the neighbors -- but we won't know if that will happen until we move in.

2) A new church.  Nothing at all against the wonderful churches we've been members of over the years, but personally, I'm kind of tired of the seeker-focused mega-church model.  I'm feeling hungry for something else.  I suspect, however, that we're going to find a lot of the mega-churches in San Antonio.  Everything's bigger in Texas, right?  But, church isn't all about me.  God will lead us where he wants us.  I just hope he leads us there quickly.

3)  New schools . . . ??  Lots of educational choices in San Antonio.  Homeschoolers abound, as do programs for homeschoolers.  The girls could almost do their entire high school career through co-op, plus all the extracurricular opportunities.  On the other hand, there are also a lot of private Christian schools to explore.  And we'll make a point to live in an area where the public schools are good, too, just in case.  More choices are good . . . they also make life more complicated.

4) New friends.  My biggest prayer right now.  It is so hard to make friends.  And we'll be moving in the summer -- a hot Texas summer when people don't leave their houses much.  I so want the girls to find people who get them, who understand them, who connect with them, who will help them grow.  I want that for hubby and me, too, but the girls . . . teenage girls need BFFs. 

Neither girl is happy about leaving Sioux City (particularly the eldest -- the boyfriend can't come with us).  But they do remember the move here: they were DEVASTATED to leave New Jersey four years ago, and yet, they survived -- and thrived.  Hopefully, that memory will sustain them.

I'm sad to leave friends here, too.  But I'm ready for a new adventure.  I'm also ready for sunshine.  Did you know it snowed last night here in Iowa?  Snowed??  On Easter?  Sigh!  So ready for spring . . .