It's More Than a Flag Pole

In the spring of 2008 we moved from England to Louisville. At that

time we had been married for 15 years and this was our fifth move. I truly believed it was going to be the easiest one. We were moving to Chris's hometown; I thought we were moving home.

Except it wasn't my home. And it turned into the hardest move we have ever made.

We moved to a great house in a great neighborhood. I was ready to start planting roots. I painted the kitchen orange, the dining room red, the living room khaki. I started making window treatments and planting flowers in the yard. Chris hung up the flag pole for all our decorative flags to note every season, birthday and event. I sat on the front porch every morning either on the swing or in the rocking chairs, drank my coffee, and said morning prayer. I worked really hard to convince myself I would live in this house forever, and I would be happy. But after 11 months and multiple hospitalizations, we realized the boys were allergic to the house, so 48 hours later we had moved into a 900 square foot apartment at the seminary.

I didn't even pretend it was home or ever was going to be home. They weren't bad times; actually, we had a lot of fun, and I got to run every day in the beautiful parks surrounding us. But I never settled. Why would I? Obviously we couldn't live there forever. We weren't, however, planning on moving  until I had graduated, but in the summer of 2010, we found a house we loved down the street from Chris's brother and his wife. We locked into a great interest rate, and then it all fell through because of the inspection. I was in the middle of CPE (clinical pastoral education--very intense), but we didn't want to lose our locked in rate, so I took 2 days and looked at houses.

Chris said he'd live anywhere except in a neighborhood off Shelbyville Road. I found 2 houses I kind of liked, none I loved, and guess where the two houses were? Yep off Shelbyville Road. Chris looked at them and we settled on one. Settled.

The first morning I went out for a run I felt like a gerbil in a habitrail or a rat in a maze box. That feeling has never gone away. I still miss being able to just run out the door and into the park. Over the years we have done some things to make it "ours." We've painted, added window treatments, replaced the ceiling and floors twice (yeah those aren't good stories--leaking pipes and all). We have rearranged and repurposed. We have planted flowers. And I have continued to complain if not aloud, deep in my heart (sometimes both).

I want a big porch; I want a master bathroom; I want a bigger kitchen; I want...I want...I want.

The truth is I want to feel at home; I want to be home. Over the years, no matter how many times I reminded the children they were all born in Georgia, it became clear Louisville was their home. Now I really felt like an outsider--Chris and the children are "from" here; I just live here.

Except I don't. I don't just live here. I have a life here. I have a vocation and a calling here. I have friends and family and framily here. Over the past week I have talked to my good friend Jerusalem and we have shared our "twinkie" stories, and I have read Jeremiah 29 over and over and over. "Build houses and settle down" (Jeremiah 29:5) runs through my mind non-stop. Well, to be honest, the "settle down" part does. Settle down--settle down---settle down. I am committed to trying to do just that. (remember the verb is trying)

I awoke Saturday with a plan. Off to run errands I went returning home with a flag pole. I asked (it might have sounded like a neurotic order) Chris to find the drill. The temperatures were below freezing and it was intermittently snowing. Chris, "Let's wait to do this until it's a little bit warmer." I'm not sure what my face looked like, and I'm pretty sure he was thinking, "We've lived in this house for almost 10 years without a flag pole." but he headed to the garage, found the drill, found we had no drill bits and promised to have it up the next day.

Yesterday I arrived home to see the holder posted on the column; I flew to the garage and dug out all our flags. Chris watched as I started sorting them and while he did mutter, they're all very childish and some are beyond faded, he too was enjoying this walk down memory lane. I searched for the perfect flag to be our "first" one up. (Chris drew the line at it being the UVA one.) I wanted a Valentine's one but we didn't have one (don't worry it's already ordered). Then I remembered the gift Caroline received last spring when she committed to Randolph. It made perfect sense. It all came together.

The Babies are at Randolph; they're settled; they're happy even knowing it won't be there home forever or maybe Lynchburg will be. They have found their place for now and for however long that will be, and I have too.

Build houses, put up a flag pole and settle down.

Living in Peaceful, Hopeful Exile

When Chris and I first met, he was teaching and coaching middle

Yes, this was at our engagement party
Thank you Meredith for saving this!

and high school, and I was finishing my graduate work in psychology. We dated for five months and during those five months I regularly said, "We are not serious. When I am finished graduate school I am moving out of Augusta. I am moving to DC." Then we got engaged. (We like to say we dated for six months before we got engaged. Not sure why but it seemed to sound better...but now I get stuck on that "Thou shalt not lie" thing, so yeah after five months we got engaged.)

My plans changed.....

And we began planning our life.

We were just idealistic enough to believe we could actually plan our happily ever after, but also just smart enough to know there might be a few changes. Our future was going to be Chris moving up through the ranks of independent school life to become a headmaster, and I would serve as the school's psychologist. We left open for discussion whether it would be for a day school or a boarding school--oh we thought we were so smart!

We also dreamed of running a camp one day. Chris had served as a camp director and we both grew up going to and loving camp and the communities they built. We weren't sure whether we would figure out a way to do it during summers while we still worked in schools during the school year, or whether we would wait until retirement, but we knew this was a passion we both had; we both felt like our lives had been transformed because of our camp experiences, and we wanted to be a part of that for the future.

Rehearsal Dinner

I'm not sure what all Chris had as actual pictures in his head, but I dreamed of our young children skipping merrily through fields of flowers that bordered the soccer fields where Chris would coach team after team to become state champions. I would be the loving, doting wife, sitting in the stands and engaging with my students. We did lean at times towards the boarding schools as then our housing would be paid--remember we were just smart enough--we knew the salaries we would be making were not going to be huge. It was a beautiful dream--the children were always sparkling clean as they frolicked...clearly a dream.

And then we got married, and then 20 months later Sarah Katherine was born, and then six weeks later I woke Chris up to tell him I didn't want to go back to work....

For years our once well thought out plans changed and changed and changed. We had been "smart enough" to consider a few changes, this was a freaking avalanche. We moved five times and lived in four states and two countries. Chris earned a MBA and was working in marketing; I went to seminary and was ordained (who saw that coming?). Sarah Katherine was rapidly joined by three siblings, Christopher, William and Caroline. While we did take long pub walks, sometimes even through fields, I'm pretty sure there was no skipping, and I'm positive they got dirty.

We continued to adjust our life plan--who are we kidding? Our well thought out plan ended that night I said I didn't want to go back to work...

One "plan" that was still talked about was the plan to own a camp one day--now we realized we would have to wait until we retired--guess those advanced degrees helped us get smarter! Over the years the children also fell in love with camps and camp communities. My new vivid dream was full of my grandchildren returning summer after summer to Coach and _____'s summer camp. (Years ago the children decided Chris's name as a grandfather would be "Coach"--there's no agreement for me yet--I keep mentioning "Queenie" would be good...) I did realize they wouldn't be sparkling clean, but I still pictured skipping--it's a dream ya'll!!!

Recently I've been having lengthy arguments with God about life and my plans. I'll be honest, my plan was to be closer than 9 hours to the water. My plan was to work less and travel more. My plan might also include children and grandchildren frolicking on the beach in matching monogrammed bathing suits...God, however, says to me, "For surely, I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope." (Jeremiah 29:11) Guess what? That's not all God says. God also says, "But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare, you will find your welfare." (Jeremiah 29:7) In this city where I have lived for 11 years and that only sometimes feels like home, I have found my welfare. I have found friends and family; I have found a deeper love for my husband and a community for our family, and I have found a calling that brings me great joy and that I believe God is still calling me to, but y'all I'm just going to tell you, being this far from the water--total exile!

Anyone else ever have this happen? You give into God, lay down your own ego, your personal ambitions, and you feel a deep sense of peace and calm, but there are still jagged spots of longing and maybe even a little grief? I hope you haven't, but I suspect some of you have.

A week ago Chris and I were at the All Saints Camp and Conference Center board retreat. He is the newly appointed board chair, and I serve ex-officio as the coordinator for youth and young events many of which happen at All Saints. I've never seen him in a work environment (well minus that time we owned Sylvan together and he fired me TWICE) and I was truly amazed. He is gifted as a leader and a marketer. He is engaging, positive, and collaborative. Because of his leadership and the entire All Saints board, I have great hope for the future of All Saints. But as I sat there watching him I realized something else--it almost seemed as plain as the nose on my face---that plan to own a camp--yeah that hasn't and may never happen, but we are working on and with a camp. We are living our dream to be a part of transforming lives through God and community building and to do it together. That plan didn't die, it changed, and God was and is surely in charge of it all. I was just so blinded by my own plan.

I'm not sure I consider myself any smarter than I was all those years ago as we planned our life together, but I am certainly a tad bit wiser--wise enough to never say never. For now, I'll build a home, plant gardens, and continue to flourish--as for the rest, God's in charge.