Old House Charm

Since moving to the northeast, I continue to pursue my love of driving around and looking at fun, old houses. The more falling-downish, the more I love it. After purchasing The Green House and experiencing the challenges and rewards of owning an old home...I lost the naive attitude...but only toward my own house.

I took this photo the other day. It's abandoned. Needs WAY more work the the house I live in. But it still made my heart skip a beat.

I giggled at the irony. I still get dreamy eyed at the houses that need the most work. That may be beyond repair. I want to know their story...who built it, what family made memories there, what can be salvaged.

But my own house? It can be a thorn in my side. I can think it a money-pit. Regard it as time consuming, uncertain and embarassingly quirky.

And as I pondered this weird phenomenon, it made me think about other areas of my life in which I may also do this. Being more tolerant of someone else's cranky child. Thinking my friend's husband's idiosyncrasies are sweet. Believing another mom's faults are more understandable and normal than my own.

Being willing to offer much more grace to other people than the ones in my family. Our own homes...we spend a great deal of time in them. We get to know the leaky spots, the cracks, the failures.

But we also create loving memories. Laugh loud. Find shelter in the storms. Rest well. It houses most of our precious treasures both human and material.

It's easy to take our own old house...or familiar family...for granted. Focus on the cracks and leaks. But if my focus remains on God, I see my house...and my family...though His loving gaze. And His grace is extended when I am unable to offer it in my own power.

And when I grow cranky about my house or my tribe, I can typically point to a lack of quality time with my Heavenly Father. Maybe I was busy with work, the kids or devouring a new series on Netflix. Whatever the excuse or valid reason, my focus was askew. And when I shift my gaze back on His continuous grace toward me, I can offer it anew to those I love. And enjoy my old house charm.

Lace Up Those Sneakers

I got some new running shoes. They were on sale. Josh says it's because they are so glaringly bright and asked me to promise to only wear them while running. :)

We are almost 7 months into our Adirondack adventure. It honestly feels like it has been much longer! Not because it's been terrible, just because it's been SO MUCH.

So much change. So much growth. So much loss. So much faith. So much struggle. So much blessing.

I remember having irrational conversations with J as we prayed over the decision to move. To say good-bye to what we perceived as traditional ministry and life. To leave family and friends. To say yes to uncertainty and a host of unknowns. To recognize that when life was predictable...it didn't leave a lot of room for the irrational faith God was calling us to. Room for Him to do some really cool stuff.

We couldn't plan the next steps or the next provisions. We tried, we really did. But as the Lord took away each "security blanket" we learned to trust Him more. We left Georgia in a U-Haul and didn't have a place to unpack the truck. We weren't sure I could keep my job all year.

And yet.

Here we are in ol' Greenie who is still standing and has kept us warm and safe all winter. We haven't depleted our resources. We have made such sweet friends. We have a loving church family. I am still employed. We haven't turned into icicles.

God ALWAYS showed up on time and He continues to meet our needs. He provided a family for us to temporarily live with upon arriving. A crazy green house to call our very own. Friends to fix things in said green house. Instant friendships and kind teachers to welcome my girls. Ministry partners to walk alongside us as we grieved and adjusted all at the same time.

We took a giant leap of faith and He lovingly caught us and carried us through each and every day. People we have never met are supporting us in prayer, encouraging notes and planned trips. Financial support arrives right when a need presents itself. God is so faithful.

And while we are so lovingly cared for, I confess I have never been so uncomfortable! I liken it to a new pair of running shoes. Your feet need them for support and balance and such, but it takes a while to get used to the fit. That's how our new way of life is for me. There have been LOTS of opportunities for me to realize how weak I am in an area. How unprepared I am for a challenge. How whiney I can be when life doesn't follow my schedule.

But that's when God gets to show up and get ALL the glory because I am just a hot mess. He gets to be my support and balance me out. Our discomfort gives Him such amazing opportunity to show up and work it out according to His plans.

But when life is comfortable and predictable it becomes easy to rely on ourselves, our plans, our gifts...our comfort zones. In many ways, our comfort zones have been stripped away and the way we did life and ministry has been flipped upside down and we are learning everything all over again, in a new context.

It's exhausting and exciting. And allows for lots of personal growth and spiritual-muscle building. (Nice ways of saying it's hard!)

I don't want to forget this season, as tough as the adjustments may have been at times. I want to always look for areas in which God wants me to "put on a new pair of sneakers." A fresh perspective, a new challenge, or a new way to grow and trust in Him. I don't want to wear those old shoes that blend right in with the rest.

The Back of the Barn

We have a beautiful red barn in our backyard. It's fun and made for a great place to hang our Christmas wreath. It made everyone on Instagram swoon.

But there are some things you don't know about the red barn. It's full. Like super full. Half of it is from previous owners. The other half is our stuff from our garage in Georgia. We hurried to cram it in there before the snow came when we moved in. This spring we have a giant project awaiting our attention. Sorting through our own stuff and the stuff of who-only-knows how many other people. And at first glance, I am not anticipating any hidden treasures. (But here's to hoping....)

And then there is the back. Or lack there of.

Here you see the missing back of the barn. And the beginnings of an inherited hoard. It's not the end of the world and will provide lots of entertainment and muscle building opportunities come the warm weather.

But.

It represents the rest of the story. Now, it's just a barn. But it makes me think of so many IG and FB posts that show the highlights. The fun and pretty parts. And everyone subconsciously sees those snapshots and thinks everything is as great as that one image. The back of this barn represents the hard times. The less than perfect moments that we don't blast all over social media. It's universal and I have to remind myself of that when I have a hard day and see someone else's super-awesome-day and my heart turns a light shade of green.

Here are the fun January highlights that were proudly posted. The ice palace, a family hike and playing in the snow Elsa sent us.

And those were sweet moments that made my heart smile and I shared for our friends and family to follow along our Adirondack adventure. But our hearts had a lot of sad moments as we knew our precious Pastor Harold would most likely be in heaven soon. And we had moved too far away to visit him. He passed away a few days ago and Josh has flown back to Georgia to assist with the service and minister to our sweet north Georgia framily. It was a tough loss after losing Linda only a few months ago. Pastor Harold truly was a dear friend, mentor and adopted grandpa to our girls (and an adopted dad to us at times!).

Please pray for his family and the community as they cope with the loss of such a great man who impacted so many. His memory and celebration of life spur us on, to continue in our calling, to honor Pastor Harold's legacy by living out our own walk of faith. On the post-worthy days and on the difficult days. With humility and compassion for others. Just like Pastor Harold modeled for us each day of his amazing life.

Merry Christmas from the North Country!

I was looking through our Christmas memories book and realized we have been in a different city and home for the past 3 Christmases. That's a lot of change for a girl who doesn't like change. Lucky for me, there was some familiarity in the midst of the newness. I was able to spend time with my sweet sisters in Atlanta when I attended a required meeting for GCA.

And our other sister came to see us! It was such an encouragement to spend time with family during this time of transition.

We were still wacky and tacky at a church party.

And I still made my kids pose in front of our tree.

We had a quiet holiday break, spending time together. M was super excited about a requested BB8 robot.

And E loved her Lion Guard playset.

We have been out exploring and playing in the fresh snow that came a few days after Christmas.

We also continue to work on the Green House. Josh painted our bedroom and the girls' room. I am putting the finishing touches on the book nook, a rather large landing in the upstairs area of the house. I wasn't sure what to use the space for, but Gibby's quiet time area in her condo was a sweet inspiration.

The past few months have been exhilarating and exhausting, all at the same time! We can't wait to see what 2017 has in store for the Bennetts, though I selfishly would request several naps. ;)

The Great Escape. That Wasn't.

Due to the long distance move and unexpected loss, the holidays were going to be different. We knew that. Thanksgiving was the big family gathering on Josh's side, so I had this crazy idea that doing something out-of-the-box could help us better face the first Thanksgiving without his parents. I know from unfortunate experience that the first few holidays without parents or grandparents on this earth can seem bizarre. Especially at our relatively young age. And being away from our siblings and their children added to the oddness.

So I found a good deal on an indoor water-park nearby. Our house still resembled a constant construction zone, so even a family meal at home was complicated. It seemed like the perfect plan.

I think my unspoken hope was avoidance. Avoiding the difficulty. The emotions. The obvious absences. But I didn't realize that until we sat down to our buffet meal. With strangers.

But don't worry! It wasn't a total loss, we DID have a great time on the water slides! :)

And the decor was so festive and beautiful.

But it was obvious one can still feel very lonely when surrounded by large, joyful crowds. Even when surrounded by those you love the absolute most. As I looked at the cheesy light show and the music blared in the chlorine filled room, it was very evident it was not covering the heartache. The emotions and absences were not to be avoided.

And it made me think of my spiritual life and how I was trying to do that there as well. Not spending quality quiet time with the Lord. Keeping it light and infrequent so I didn't have to feel anything too personal. Playing "loud music" by staying busy, watching the "cheesy light show" of the TV or phone screen. Trying to distract my soul.

It wasn't our first holiday away from home without family. But it's hard to miss those that are in heaven. And experience new phases of life they will never know about or see. We can sound like 80 year olds, talking about the good ol' days and all that have gone on before us. Life has aged us prematurely. I know some of my blog posts can be. Well. Like Debbie Downer from SNL wrote them. And makes your face look like ours on Thanksgiving.

But I want to be honest. Offer a different perspective and give insight into what others may feel during what is usually a happy and fun time of year. I try to keep Instagram and Facebook posts light and happy. Share the encouraging things and keep the heartache quiet. But when a spiritual insight is learned, I like to record it (because I will need to be reminded again) and share it, because at least one person who reads this will relate. And that one kindred spirit is enough for me to risk being vulnerable and debbie-downerish.

We got our Christmas tree at a tree farm. In Vermont! While it was snowing. It was very fun and a family tradition we carry on from Josh's childhood. And we are reminded how important it is to carry on traditions and develop new ones for our sweet girls. Maybe we shed a few tears as ornaments were unpacked. And maybe we danced and giggled when Mariah Carey sang our favorite "All I want for Christmas is You." It's okay. We can giggle and grieve and grow. And be intentional to quiet our soul along the way.