February was a beautiful month here in Christchurch. The kids are settling into school and life here so well. I think this first picture, of their Saturday morning fort on February 2nd, sums up how at home they feel here. The other picture is of the gardens we get to walk through every day to get to school!

  

February 2 to 15 — Terry visits

Chris’ mother, Terry, flew over to visit us for a couple weeks. We had many fun adventures, and many enjoyably slow paced days too. The first day she was here we took the bus to the Botanical Gardens and walked an awful long way for a Bacon Brother’s burger.

  

Wednesday, February 6th was a school holiday, Waitangi Day, celebrating the treaty between the Maori and British. It was too chilly to go to the beach, so we took the bus through the mountain to Lyttleton harbor, then a ferry out to Quail Island. It reminded me of my first vacation to Rock Island off the tip of Door County, Wisconsin, when I was 6 years old. Except that we didn’t camp. But the island was an uninhabited park where only hiking and camping were allowed. The hike was beautiful. Terry found two Christchurch rocks and Chris found a huge peek a boo tree!

    

That Saturday it warmed up enough and we finally got Terry to the beach. I was inspired by how game Terry was to go into the waves. We Midwesterners have so few chances. Chris and I really enjoyed the boys, running their MarioKart tracks, burying them in sand, and jumping the waves. There’s also an exceptional splash pad at New Brighton Pier for rinsing off.

    

Terry treated Chris and Twill and I to a great day at Willowbank Nature Reserve on the 12th, when the older boys were in school. It was so fun to see Chris feeding all the birds and animals with more enthusiasm than most kids. The eels were pretty aggressive though. We even had lunch with the deer.

    

February 16 to 19 — Mom and Dad return

Mom and Dad came back from their tour around the South Island with beautiful stories and pictures, and many great laughs about Squeaky, their camper van. They rented a large van that would seat 8 people for a couple days so they could drive us around our area more. Sunday we spent the day hiking around the point between New Brighton and Lyttleton harbors. It was a beautiful day, full of dramatic clouds, a bit of sun, and many sheep.

  

We also made it to the famous Margaret Mahy playground that we’d been wanting to see since we got here. It’s the largest playground I’ve ever seen, one of the many improvements from the big earthquakes that destroyed much of the city center. I didn’t get many good pictures, we’ll have to go back.

  

The last day we had the van we tried driving out towards the Banks Peninsula where Mom and Dad had camped, but we had a couple sick boys so we turned back and let them rest at home. I think the kids kind of reached their breaking point of going breakneck pace to get the most out of our time shared here. But we were so thankful to get to share this beautiful place with our parents and hope that more friends and family will take the opportunity to come see us. We have a huge guest room with separate entrance that’s sitting empty!

  

February 20 to March 6 — Teresa welcomes us to Christchurch

The day Mom and Dad flew out I met Teresa, a friend of our friends from Eau Claire who visit here regularly. She was preparing to leave for their sabbatical, back to their home country of Germany, in just two weeks. But she still took me and Twill under her wing, on top of all she had to do in preparing to leave, and welcomed us to Christchurch in very meaningful and practical ways. That Friday, the 22nd, she took us to Nature Play, a Christchurch group that explores the outdoors with kids. We went to the mud flats and played in the mud. I built a turtle and platypus family for Twill. We were the last ones there, along with Teresa’s friend, Hiromi, from Japan. At the end we were all working together to dam the stream, and we noticed how neat it was that a German, American, and Japanese woman were working together in New Zealand. It was a very magical moment for me. I told them I am very thankful that they can see me as a person, not just an American.

   

That night we also saw them at the school Family Fun Night, but sadly I didn’t get any pictures, only videos. The following week Teresa took Twill and I to the Wednesday music class that she enjoys. It was delightful, and Twill enjoyed it more than I anticipated he would. Afterward, we drove to the mall where Teresa got a haircut and I played with the kids at the mall playground. It was so refreshing to spend time with Teresa’s girls, who truly know how to play. I credit her lack of a smartphone quite a bit. I don’t think they are inherently bad, but they create a lot of angst in preschool children in my house, and I haven’t figured out how to manage this well yet.

  

That Friday, March 1st, Teresa took us again to Nature Play, this time at the Botanical Gardens. I am learning about parenting from these new friends, Teresa and Hiromi. Twill has been in an understandable phase of resisting all these new social engagements, but enjoying them in the end. It’s been exhausting challenging both of us to push through this resistance, but also very rewarding. At the gardens, Twill really wanted to go to the playground, because he’d been there before, but Teresa and Hiromi showed us a beautiful world inside this huge tree, then proceeded to set an example for the kids by climbing the tree themselves. It helped me to remember how much I love climbing trees, and how much Twill needs to see me having fun too. Afterwards, we enjoyed the playground with Teresa and Hiromi and their kids.

Sunday Hiromi invited us to Japan Day, so we met her there and enjoyed learning a bit more about her and her culture. She also introduced us to another couple from Malaysia. Both couples are living their dream here in New Zealand where the culture is more laid back and slow paced. Their husbands work hard making food for people every day. But they are not locked into a career track for decades. New Zealand seems to be a place of freedom for those willing to take risks. The kids enjoyed this simple fishing for balloons game.

  

Then Wednesday, March 6, Hiromi and I dropped Teresa and her family off at the airport for their sabbatical. I am incredibly sad to see them go after only two weeks. They are generously letting us use their car, even insuring us on their insurance, while they are gone. Teresa gave me lots of driving practice last week too. Their attitude about the whole thing, “It’s just a car, it should be used!” is so humbling and revealing of how foreign this is to our culture. I feel like in America we have an unhealthy attachment to our things, and we are seeing some very stark contrasts here. Today, Friday, Hiromi came over for the day with her son, Kuni, because it was too cold and rainy for Nature Play when I have a cold. Kuni and Twill really bonded, playing kitties in a blanket fort. I am so thankful for Teresa’s investment in us, with all she had going on. We are settling in to life here, and slowly figuring out what our new normal might be.

 

 

 

There’s good reason I haven’t written in a couple months. We have pretty much been company or had company for the past couple months, gathering a staggering amount of adventures and memories to share. Not to mention transitioning to a new country, and starting a new school year. I have felt at times like I’m holding on to an exciting ride, all the while not wanting to take any of it for granted.

So…January kind of has to start at the end of December.

December 30 to January 14 — Sydney and Manilla

December 30^th we woke the kids at 3:45am, walked 45 minutes to the train station and caught the 5am train to Sydney. I had no idea until that train ride how much I had missed the open countryside! After a 14 hour ride we reached the station where my friend, Fiona, picked us up.

Back in 2002 I studied abroad in Newcastle, Australia. After 6 months I really didn’t want to go home, largely because I found two of my best, lifelong friends in the whole world: Fiona and Kylie. Their friendship is a truly unique gift from God. I have been dreaming of coming back to Australia to see them ever since I left. So the time we got to have with them in January was a precious dream come true. Not to mention a blast!

    

Fiona and John have four kids as well: Leah (6), Gwyn (3, but now 4!), Jesse (2), and Alice (now nearly 6 months!) so we were essentially one large family of 12 for two weeks. The first week we stayed in Sydney, living in Fiona’s sister’s house while their family was on holiday. We saw some beaches, and the harbor, by ferry and on foot, and soaked up the Kelly’s company.

  

The second week we drove over 5 hours to Fiona’s parent’s farm outside the little town of Manilla. I had been there back in 2002, and it was the highlight of my trip to Australia. There are kangaroos in the yard there, and chickens and calves now, which Twill loved. But the best part was seeing Ian and Kathy, Fiona’s parents, again.

   

We stayed in the pig shed that Ian remodeled into a cottage, with a guest book revealing the beautiful trail of those it has blessed.

  

We got to go to the river Fiona played in as a kid. It was pretty low from the drought, but we found one little water slide that everyone tried. The kids had lots of water fun in the screened in porch, because it was very, very hot.

   

On the way back down to Sydney we stopped in Newcastle, walked through the university, and found the flat I had lived in. I was thankful for the chance to share it with my family, but the mosquitoes made it a quick and painful visit on campus. We also got to meet up with my old flatmate, Shelley, spontaneously down at a park on the lake too! All a rather unexpected treat.

  

When it was time to go back to Brisbane we all kind of felt like we lost half our family. Wesley kept wanting to look at pictures of baby Alice. He and Stewart couldn’t get enough of her. The kids really did enjoy each other, and it was great to have so much driving time to get to talk to Fiona. I will forever be so thankful for the gift of those two weeks, and can’t wait to do it again whenever we can pull it off!

January 14 to 18 – Goodbyes

When we got back to Brisbane I asked the boys what they wanted to be sure to do before we left. I was so happy to hear that mostly they wanted to see their friends one more time. So we spent a lot of the last week saying goodbyes to their school friends, like Sonny, Antonio, and Hugo. Louis and Jojo were an added bonus too. I also had to say goodbye to my favorite busker at the Davies Park Markets. He was kind enough to let me take his picture. Chris was very sad to say goodbye to our favorite bakers there too.

  

I really miss my good friend, Lan, and hope we see them again someday.

Among the goodbyes was one new introduction. Andy and Ariel had some friends who were actually from Iowa that they’d been wanting to introduce us to. So we got to spend a day meeting Cal and Rosie, from Clarence, Iowa. They’ve been in Brisbane 44 years, but were still so Iowan. It was a fascinating treat to meet them.

January 18 to 22 – Kylie Comes to Brisbane

Our last few days in Brisbane, Kylie, and her daughter Eva, came to visit both us and Clayton and Katie. Katie was just a week away from her due date, so Kylie was hopeful that she might get to meet her new niece or nephew. Reena Joy didn’t arrive until February 1^st, but we enjoyed the time anticipating her arrival together. Kylie filled their freezer with lots of healthy meals, and helped us clean out ours.

  

It was so good to see Kylie in person in this stage of life. She is a wealth of wisdom about healthy relationships and healthy living. It was lovely to walk down to our favorite park on the river with her and chat. I hope next time we can spend time with her whole family on her home turf, but it was great to get to share Brisbane with her since Clayton and Katie are there.

January 22 we said goodbye to the Coffey’s with one more trip to Sea Fuel for lunch, before heading out to the airport hotel. We will forever be thankful for their hospitality and the chance to live in West End!

  

January 23 — Here we come New Zealand

After the adventure to Sydney, the 4am shuttle to our terminal was rather cushy. We had an easy flight to Christchurch and were greeted by Moffat at the airport. There was one funny glitch coming through customs. They held Lewis’ backpack and asked if he had any lollies (candy) that he didn’t claim. Chris and I both looked at Lewis with raised eyebrows, because we knew nothing of the sort. It turned out to be rubber bouncy balls.

  

We were all giddy to explore our new house, and have had many games of hide and seek that started that first day.

January 25 to 30 — Mom and Dad visit

Mom and Dad flew into Christchurch to spend the last few days of summer holidays with the kids and us. We found the local farmer’s market and a neat protected ancient forest hike at the Riccarton Bush their first day here.

When it warmed up a bit, not much, we found the beach at New Brighton.  We weren’t prepared at all, so we told the kids not to get wet…you can imagine how that went. We found that you can get an awful lot of water out of their soaked clothes just by wringing them out.

    

We got to know campus, some local stores, a new church, and enjoyed some quiet days at home painting with Grandpa too!

  

January 31 — School starts

First day of school here at Ilam School! Mom and Dad took off in their rented camper to tour New Zealand for a couple weeks!

This is truly a quick snapshot, not nearly as thorough as I would like, but better than nothing!

 

This month has been a colorful whirlwind of soaking up time with friends, and finding wet relief from the heat. I am capturing the month before it is over, but while it is fresh, because Sydney will be a new chapter that we are very excited about!

    

December 1^st

Chris runs Parkrun by himself. I take the boys to the market to get vegetables to bring to Kashelle’s Garden Birthday Party. After we find her house, via bus and foot, I get the whole story, that it is actually Kashelle’s birthday, not one of her children, and she has asked for yard work for a birthday gift. I am in HEAVEN! Chris describes it as cathartic. We help weed and clear trees so she can put up a chicken coop. The kids enjoy trampolines, toys, pet rats, and finally a hose down the slide. Back home we have a small breather before walking down to South Bank for a quick dip in the beach. Rony and Tania bring us a picnic of authentic Indian food on the green beside the river. Much better than any restaurant! As we walk back home Stewart is pretty loopy tired. I tell the kids that we’ve been banking years of really boring days at home to help days like this one go so well.

December 6^th

Twill and I take a meal to Fatemah and Mohammed, who just had a baby, Liam. We are surprised and delighted to see Helen, Thomas, and Tania there when we arrive! I hold the sleeping Liam, while Fatemah naps for a couple hours, after only getting a couple hours sleep the night before. I can understand her challenge, as Liam is an exceptionally lively and alert newborn! Tania tells us about her volunteer work at the hospital, massaging patient’s feet. Helen tells us of her catering work pre Thomas. It is a treat to get to know them better, to see Fatemah get some rest, and to see Twill warm up to them so well.

December 7^th

Lan and Rich and their boys join us and the Coffey’s down at the Boundary Street Markets before the guys have a Friday night game night. The young boys and Rich enjoy ping pong, and the adults enjoy Hugo’s stories.

December 8^th

Chris reaches his Parkrun goal, breaking 20 minutes! We celebrate with the usual, or unusual, Spanish market drinks, and he says I can run the remaining weeks of Parkrun with Lewis and Stewart.

  

December 9^th

After church there is a picnic in Orleigh Park to send off Naomi and Sam, and their baby Jonathan, who are moving to Bundaberg, several hours north. Afterwards, Clayton comes over for his last programming lesson with Chris.

December 10^th

Wesley has his swim carnival at school. He makes it through their demonstrations without getting very wet by jumping on top of the year 5 volunteers who are there to aid him.

    

December 11^th

Lewis and Stewart have their swim carnival. Twill and I only stay for the first race, because the carnival runs all day and the few hours we spent at Wesley’s the day before wore Twill down. There is an incredible amount of noise and cheering coming from the kids, and I am thankful to not be immersed in athletics. Our family doesn’t have the noise tolerance. I am sorry to have missed their other races at the end of the day, however. They come home with ribbons and smiles on their faces, after much anxiety about it for days beforehand.

December 12^th

We say good-bye to Naomi and baby Jonathan with one last afternoon discipleship group meeting. Becky, Paola, Naomi, and I end with a lively Bible discussion. Afterwards I feel like an awkward challenger, as usual, and wish I could just pipe down.

   

December 13^th

The last day of school takes me of guard in the midst of all the excitement. I cry as Wesley’s class sings “You’ve Got a Friend in Me,” because we’ll miss all the friends we’ve made here. Welsey is one of five Santas in his program, and one parent says he looks like ZZ Top with that beard. When school is out, Lewis’ best friend, Sonny, shows up at his side, wanting to have Lewis over. Instead, Sonny walks home with us and stays through dinner. He loves the spring rolls we have. They play handball and chase bubbles on the driveway, and start a new game Chris found, Snakebird.

December 15^th

Lewis and I run Parkrun, taking a minute and a half off our first time. We start a bit further up, in front of some walkers, and he runs hard the whole time. It is Meg’s 50^th Parkrun, so we celebrate her milestone with a crowd from Sojourn afterwards in the pool and over pancakes. At the markets, Chris challenges us all to try something completely different, because our chances here are dwindling. Chris and I split a Japanese okonomiyaki. I find Christmas spirit in the red and green vegetables that I am loving every week: red capsicums, zucchini, and onions, all only $2 a bag! Later that day Twill hits an Australian “kilometerstone,” laughing through his whole shower instead of crying. First time for me, anyway. I credit all the pool time. He literally “runs through the sprinkler,” dangerous, but fun.

   

December 16^th

Sojourn’s Christmas Dinner is in the evening. It is raining cats and dogs when it’s time to catch the bus. Javed and Shagufta were going to catch the bus with us, but miss it because of the rain. I hop off the bus at Boundary and Vulture and run back for them. We take the train to church for the first time, but arrive in time, and have a wonderful evening. I am so thankful for how loving everyone is to our friends. And so thankful for the Christmas carols that we sing. It finally feels like Christmas singing them.

December 18^th

Lewis and Stewart and I walk down to Sonny’s house to jump on his trampoline for the morning. I enjoy talking with Sonny’s mum, Alex, who is from England and has four kids as well. In the afternoon I take all four boys over to Lan’s house for a playdate. Hugo has been missing Wesley a lot, but they spend most of the time on screens. Twill and I help weed. They are waiting on Rich to finish out the week of work before they begin moving to their new house over Christmas.

December 19^th

I get a crazy idea at Coles and buy a pack of 50 balloons to blow up for the kids. I hope to fill Lewis and Twill’s bedroom. It’s not exactly filled, and the noise of a few popping scares a couple boys off initially, but they all warm up to the fun and get creative with them eventually. In the afternoon, Lewis has two troublesome baby teeth removed at the dentist across the road. Paola tells us we must check out the art galleries down on the river. The balloons remind her of a kids exhibit they had down there once where they did fill a room with balloons. I take Becky out to Insane Acai as Chris puts the boys to bed.

      

December 20^th

It is unbearably hot, so I plan to take all four boys down to the Gallery of Modern Art, as Paola suggested. But Wesley and Twill are not listening to me, so Chris tells me to just take the older two. We enjoy interactive exhibits where the kids can insert their coloring into an animated story and chase fish into a fish trap as the tide goes out. Chris takes Wesely and Twill to swim at South Bank. They get badly sunburned, even though they wear sunscreen. After dinner, we blow bubbles on the driveway again. As Chris reads The Hobbit to the boys, I leave with Paola for a night out on the town. We walk all the way down to the cultural center, but end up going to a place very close to home. It is a treat to get out and learn more about her.

  

December 21^st

Chris takes the younger two sunburned boys to the Planetarium for some indoor fun. Lewis and Stewart and I meet Lan and her boys at South Bank for a swim, as the temperature reaches 100F. This time we are the ones who get sunburned, even though we are thoroughly covered in sunscreen and shirts. I learn that you have to reapply every two hours in the intense summer sun here. On the walk back home we find an injured rainbow lorikeet on the ground at Muskgrave Park. It can barely hobble along. Stewart convinces me to call the animal ambulance, but when I try I find my SIM card depleted.

December 22^nd

Stewart runs his first Parkrun and surprises us all with his stamina and kick at the end. Chris challenges him to run the whole thing and he rises to the challenge incredibly. Afterwards we enjoy the pool and beach. Wesley learns that the water really will hold him up and finds a new passion for back floating. Chris gets Twill to relax on his back, but with a lot more resistance. Afterwards, Twill tells me that it was “hard,” but he is clearly proud that he did it. At the markets, Chris and I both independently tell the baker we buy bread from every week that we wish we could take him with us when we leave.

December 23^rd

We are all glad to make it to Sojourn for our second to last time before Andy picks us up in his car to take us to his house for Christmas. It’s my first time in a car since we left our van at the Minneapolis airport. The temperatures have relenquished, so the kids just ride in the boat around Andy’s pool the first night. After dinner, Chris and the older three boys see Christmas lights with Andy, and I go to bed with Twill, at his request.

    

December 24^th

Andy and his son Oliver take us to the district park near their house for the morning. All but Twill enjoy the “flying fox,” which we call a zip-line. Twill finds plenty of other things to enjoy, including Andy. After lunch we play guitar and sing with Andy. Then I swim with the older three while Chris naps with Twill. Wesley decides that he loves the water for the first time in his life. He jumps off the side and swims with and to his noodle dozens of times, getting his face wet every time! Lewis and Stewart dive for paddles and golf balls. In the evening 8 new guests join us for a Christmas feast. This time the older boys are begging to go to bed. I tuck them all in, reading the story I wrote them for Christmas. Afterwards, Chris and I stay up until nearly midnight visiting. I am so thankful for the chance to get to know folks and learn more about the Chinese and Taiwanese cultures.

    

December 25^th

After breakfast and opening gifts, Andy and Ariel take us to a new park near their Bhuddist temple. I am thankful for the gift of nature, that has been harder to find in the city. We see baby ducks and water lilies, then stumble upon another exceptional playground, looking for a bathroom. There is a possum trying to find some peace and quiet up in the rafters of the treehouse, and another flying fox. We pull ourselves away in time to catch the end of the free vegetarian meal served regularly at the Bhuddist temple. Afterwards we get to experience a Chinese tea ceremony, that has the desired calming affect on all the boys but Twill. Until it hits their bladders. We tour the temple, interrupted by several trips to the toilet, and a lot of practice taking shoes off and on again. Near the end we see a wallaby on the lawn, just as we had hoped for. Afterwards, Andy and Ariel deliver us home safely, with one more round of “Lucky Dip” gifts hiding in covered compartments of a box. The kids all go to bed early and Wesley sleeps over 12 hours.

   

The rest of this week we have been cleaning and packing and enjoying a slower pace before our big trip to Sydney. The kids are doing surprisingly well considering all the excitement, but we are trying to slow down and really connect with them. It was a very different Christmas, and we have all been missing family at Christmas time for sure. I am thankful for these rich experiences, and also have a new appreciation for home and all the traditions there.

Lewis is taking it especially hard that we didn’t get gifts for each other. It doesn’t help that Chris and I are so happy living out of suitcases and saying “no” to everything material that takes up space. It is fascinating how much fun Stewart had making dramas with the robots Andy had 3D printed. There’s always a balance somewhere in giving them materials to work with, but not too many, to foster creativity. Probably if Stewart owned those robots they would sit in a closet untouched. Novelty, novelty is what this whole journey is full of. I get to hold on for the ride!

I have been wanting to write about Sojourn Bible Church for quite awhile, but it has felt too emotional and unformed as we’ve been living, and healing, in community again.

Learning from my brothers and sisters in Christ around the world has been the highlight of all my travels since my first adventure here in Australia 16 years ago. God gifted me with a couple lifelong friends, who I get to see again within the month! Woo-hoo!

The fellowship we experienced in Swansea and Tenby while we were in Wales for our honeymoon 15 years ago was incomparably richer than any experience as a tourist. We also learned much from God and others in Guatemala and Nicaragua in 2003 and 2006.

It’s fascinating learning about our brothers’ and sisters’ very different experiences, and their perceptions of our culture. And the love and hope we have in common is even sweeter. The loving hospitality we’ve experienced from Christians all around the world runs deeper than and across every culture.

 

Here in Brisbane we have gotten to share this joy with our children too. Sunday quickly became everyone’s favorite day of the week back in August. Each Sunday we get on the bus across the street at 8:45, then hike down the hill from the bus stop to Sojourn Bible Church, which meets on a primary school campus.

We help set up chairs, then Lewis and Stewart play handball or tiggy with the their friends before Sunday school. Wesley and Twill play outside in the dirt, climb trees, chase geckos. If it’s wet they read books, play catch with Chris, or look for abandoned balls behind the chair racks.

At 10:30 we come together for the service, all singing together, reading the Bible, praying. Then the younger kids go back to play in creche, and Lewis and Stewart sit with us during the message. Afterwards people bring out morning tea and the kids enjoy snacks and run free again, until we finally pull them away to the bus stop around 1pm.

It’s been so good to actually get to know people. When we’re there for nearly 4 hours every week, and it’s a small enough community that you can know everyone, it really feels like family. Lewis and Stewart have made such good friends at church that most weeks they count down the days until Sunday again. And Wesley and Twill never want to leave when it’s time to catch the bus home. One day, months ago, Twill ran up to me and said, “Mama, I talked to another kid!” He would never do that if I were standing right there. The freedom has been good for him.

It’s this safe freedom, I’m realizing, that we are all so thankful for. In 10 years of parenting we’ve never had a consistent, safe environment like this, besides family gatherings, where the kids can run free and we’re not on constant head-counting alert. It’s been very healing to experience the safety of such a loving community. And it has grown us all in big ways to get to have this freedom.

Healing has also come for me simply from real and tangible ways that we’ve been able to love and be loved. From people reaching out to me when I was upset to sharing meals and helping set up chairs. This is where I realize I was hitting a wall back home with church. I was buying into the consumer driven approach to church that simply evaluates the pastor and rates his preaching, as though church is a service I’m shopping around for, like everything else.

But here it’s somehow been very clear to me that church isn’t about the preaching. It’s not about rating the pastor’s performance. It’s not a place, either, or a building. Church is quite simply a community of people who take Jesus at His Word, and live it out, loving each other as best we can in our own sinfulness.

The preaching has been encouraging. In fact, I would highly recommend listening to the last four messages Wez gave this month, looking at who God is and what it actually means for day to day life. But I haven’t agreed with absolutely everything spoken from up front, or felt like I have to in order to be loved here. Jesus said that the world will know we are His by the love we have for each other in community. Sojourn is a place where God is glorified in the love of the family.

That said, there’s an even deeper way that God is healing me through the closer, smaller community. I am learning that church can be so good without being perfect. I have struggled a lot with unrealistic expectations, and it’s been so good to see that real love in community is still going to be messy. There have been times when I have felt judged or misunderstood, but I haven’t been able to run. In not running, I am learning that it can be my own insecurities, and imagination, that isolate me from people. And even if it’s not my imagination, love covers over a multitude of sins.

We are so thankful for the time here, and thankful that we have one more week left in January when we return from Sydney too. It’s not going to be easy to say good-bye. But I rest in incredible peace, because God is in control and knows what he is doing with us. I have been so thankful for the practical encouragement from this last series Wez preached.

Because God is gracious, I don’t have to prove myself.

Because God is good, I don’t have to look elsewhere.

Because God is great, I don’t have to be in control.

Because God is glorious, I don’t have to fear people.

I often look to community and other people instead of to God himself. But He is the vine. These simple truths have been the encouragement I really needed as we take another leap of faith into a new country again soon. Sojourn has been an incredible gift, but it is the Giver who I can count on, no matter where we go.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tomorrow we head to Andy’s house to spend a couple nights there over Christmas. So I am posting my Christmas present to the boys now so I can read it off my phone on Christmas. A smashed Christmas story was our writing prompt a couple weeks ago, so I turned it into a Christmas present. We have been missing all our Christmas books this year, so I wanted to write a new story to help us remember what the season is all about.

 

Jacob climbed quietly up the clay jug of water, grabbed the window ledge, carefully positioned his bare feet along the rim of the jug, and stared into the room of Samuel, the mysterious toy maker. Hanging from the thatched roof were dozens of dangling wooden puppets. The whole house was lined with shelves of carved wooden toys. Jacob’s eyes searched for his favorite one, a simple wooden sheep on a shelf in the corner.

Jacob couldn’t explain why he liked the sheep, he just liked it. Most people he knew in Bethlehem thought that sheep were dirty, smelly, and stupid, and those who cared for them even moreso. Still, Jacob loved this little toy. So he stole glances, whenever he could, and averted his eyes whenever he met a shepherd in the fields.

Hanukkah was a week away. Hanukkah meant feasting and gifts. Most of the children in Bethlehem could think of nothing but Samuel’s toys. Jacob had bragged to his friends that he would get the horse and soldier puppets that all the boys coveted, because his father was the wealthiest man in Bethlehem. But what he really wanted was the little sheep.

Suddenly Jacob’s foot slipped into the water jug. Samuel looked up, rose from his work, and rushed at Jacob. Terrified, Jacob slipped completely into the huge jug. When his feet hit the bottom he instinctively curled into a ball to ward off the blows that were sure to come.

But the blows didn’t come. Finally, Jacob looked up, and met the toy maker’s eyes. He saw an unfamiliar, soft, puzzled look.

“Do you think I should beat you?” asked the old man.

“Yes, master,” Jacob lowered his gaze, and inwardly squirmed.

“Come out of there.” The old man set his tool on the window ledge and helped Jacob climb out of the jug. Jacob fell into the old man’s arms. Samuel stood remarkably strong, but was drenched in the process. “Sorry, master.” Jacob said instinctively, watching the streams of water running off his tunic, soaking into the dry dirt.

“Come,” Samuel said. So the boy followed the old man into his house.

 

Inside it was dark. Jacob could not see at first, but eventually he began to make out the benches he ran into, and the puppets.

Samuel could see the lust in Jacob’s eyes. “You like my puppets.”

“Yes, master.” Jacob felt mud forming where he stood. The brown dirt was stained dark wherever he had been. Any number of adults in his household would beat him for such an offense.

Now Samuel sat down, letting out a huge sigh, for he was a large man, not accustomed to excitement. “I know your family, son. Your father is wealthy, you will have your puppets. So why do you come to my window, alone, to spy on my work?”

The old man’s question annoyed Jacob, because he didn’t know why he snuck away from the other kids to see the sheep. He just wanted it. In answer Jacob raised his eyes to the sheep in the corner. Samuel followed his gaze, rose, and went to it.

“This little one here, you like?” He pulled it down, and stared at Jacob, puzzled again. Finally he handed it silently to the boy.

Jacob snatched it from the old man’s hand quickly, afraid he would take it back.

“You are a strange child, son.” The old man stroked his beard.

“Yes, master,” Jacob said, without thinking, admiring the sheep.

“You may have that one,” Samuel said, waving his hand to dismiss Jacob.

Jacob snapped out of his trance, finally stung with remorse. “But, your water, master.” He looked up at the old man, who was seated again, working.

“You will replace it, from the well,” Samuel said calmly. Jacob bristled. Retrieving water was women’s work. It would shame his family if he were caught there. He raised his hand in protest, but the old man cut him off.

“Right now, while no one is there,” Samuel said, without looking up.

“Yes, master.” Jacob sulked away, tucking the sheep into his wet tunic.

 

Jacob led Samuel’s donkey, loaded with water jugs, through the trees to the well, with one hand loosely on the reins and one hand on his sheep. He was too lost in thought to notice that the well was not, in fact, unoccupied this afternoon.

When he came out of the trees he saw an old woman whom he had never seen before. She was horribly crippled and could not raise her head above her shoulders. Jacob stopped, horrified at what he saw. Her skin too was diseased. He raised his hands to shield his eyes, spooked the donkey, and it ran off into the trees.

“Now how will you draw water?” the old woman snorted in laughter. Anger rose in Jacob like a fire. He took off into the trees to find the animal, but his mind burned and he couldn’t see straight. In his frenzy he tripped on a root, hit his head, and lost consciousness.

 

Jacob awoke in the dark, completely confused as to his whereabouts. Suddenly he heard a voice that sounded far away. As he sat up, head pounding, Jacob realized the voice was coming from inside his cloak. Jacob opened his tunic and began to pull out his wooden sheep, but dropped it like a burning stick when it moved, warm within his hand, and spoke quite clearly.

“Well, it’s about time you got me out of there. Phew! So dark and damp!”

Jacob blinked, then pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. It hurt, but somehow was no comfort, because the sheep continued speaking.

“Silly child, I have something to show you. Now that you have let me out we can begin our journey.”

“Journey?” Jacob managed.

“Yes, to Christmas past,” the sheep acted as though this was obvious.

“What is ‘kris mass past’?” he asked.

“Oh, you’ll see,” said the sheep. Suddenly everything around Jacob blurred, as though he hit his head again, but it didn’t hurt so bad this time, it was actually quite exhilarating.

 

When his vision cleared he was standing in the fields of Bethlehem, cloaked in darkness, and surrounded by sheep. Everywhere he looked were sheep—very real, very noisy, very stinky sheep.

Suddenly the sky lit up unnaturally. Jacob shielded his eyes from the brightness, still he could not help but look. Amidst the light, beautiful creatures were flying, and singing, singing pure joy, like he had never known.

A shiver went through Jacob, and he felt he had to look away from them. As he looked out over the backs of the sheep, lit up with the unnatural glow, he saw the shepherds. Somehow he understood that the light creatures were talking to the shepherds. But Jacob could not understand what they were saying.

“What is it?” Jacob asked the sheep that rested on his shoulder. “What are they saying?”

“Follow them!” the sheep replied, excitedly. Jacob couldn’t help but do so.

The shepherds were running, fast, and Jacob had to work hard to keep up with them, given the 8 year old legs he had to work with. Thankfully, there were some children his age among the shepherds. But they were definitely stronger than Jacob was.

Finally the pack slowed and Jacob caught up to them. They were kneeling, as he came up to the stable, every one of them kneeling. It made no sense to Jacob. The little ones, his age and younger, bravely inched forward towards a poor, filthy, sweaty woman cradling a newborn baby.

Babies were nothing new to Jacob. He had two little sisters who had been born in his home. He’d been asleep for the first one, but present at the second birth. He thought it was a messy, stinky affair and didn’t understand one bit what all the fuss was about.

“Do you know who that is?” asked the sheep, obviously awed.

“No. Should I?” Jacob yawned, and shivered in the chilly night air.

“It’s the Maker of all, come as a babe.”

“Huh?” Jacob didn’t get it.

“The LORD, Yahweh!” the sheep was clearly excited.

“That baby?” Jacob heard about the LORD from his parents all the time. The way they acted, Jacob feared ever meeting this LORD. He shuddered to think what the baby would grow into.

“Why’s he born here?” Jacob thought to ask.

“Because he is the Servant King,” the sheep marveled.

Jacob had servants, plenty of them. He made fun of their children and created extra work for them. “He’s the what?” Jacob was thoroughly confused.

“You’ll see,” the sheep said, and all at once the world blurred again.

 

When things came into focus this time, Jacob was surprised to find himself back on the dark hillsides of Bethlehem, again. He was underneath his favorite tree, where he and his friends played everyday. But never at night. At night he was to be safe inside the walls of their family home.

As Jacob looked around he saw dark figures strewn about the ground—a family of shepherds, mostly asleep. A few young men stood watch over the sheep.

Suddenly one young boy rose in his restlessness and walked out from under the shelter of the tree to sit in the open, under the stars. Jacob recognized him as Elias, a boy he had teased many times. Now, in the darkness, Jacob felt smaller.

“Jesus, why did you have to leave us?” Elias spoke with more emotion than Jacob had ever heard in his 8 years. The boy wept quietly, shaking violently, but not wanting to wake the others with his sobs. Jacob had never seen anyone so sad, let alone anyone his age.

But even though his sobs were silent, his mother sensed his absence, rose and went to him, engulfing him in her arms.

Jacob was troubled. “Did his father die? Who is it that he’s lost?”

“Have you not heard?” the sheep seemed shocked. “Have you not heard of Jesus, the one they crucified outside Jerusalem this weekend?”

“Uhh, yeah, I guess I might have.” Jacob felt a little sheepish. He had seen throngs of people going out to hear this miracle worker. Some were convinced he was a prophet. Once Jacob had snuck through the crowd to see him. Jesus had smiled directly at him, and winked!

But his parents had warned him severely to stay away from such crowds. His father said that this radical would get them kicked out of the synagogue. The Jewish leaders seemed to hate Jesus intensely, and that was enough for Jacob’s family to hate him too. So Jacob wasn’t too surprised, or bothered, when they had him killed.

“Why–” Jacob started, but he didn’t get a chance to finish his question before the world blurred again. “Where are we going?!” But the sheep was unusually silent.

 

This time Jacob saw a completely unfamiliar world, almost too much to take in. Jacob shielded his eyes again, and wondered if the light creatures were back. When his eyes adjusted he figured out that the magical lights were on ropes, not coming from the sky. The lights were everywhere, wrapped around trees, hung along pointy houses.

The ground beneath Jacob was uncomfortably hard and cold to his bare feet. He staggered backwards, fell off the hard ground, onto unusually squishy ground, and into the snow. Jacob had seen snow fall from the sky once in his life, but this snow covered everything!

As Jacob got up, a huge, noisy, beast whizzed past, splashing muddy slush onto the already frightened boy.

“Christmas future,” the little sheep said proudly.

“What is this crazy word you keep saying!” Jacob was upset for many reasons.

“Just watch,” the sheep nodded in the direction of a family, walking up a path into their home.

The little girl began singing:

“All I want for Chrith-math ith my two front teeth,

my two front teeth, my two front teeth.”

They all laughed, then reached their door and went inside. Jacob was drawn like a moth to the light, making his way to the window in the snow. He tried to put his hand on the window ledge, but punched a hard, invisible wall.

“Ow!” he yelled, ruffled, “You could tell me about some of this!” The sheep said nothing, but stood on its hind legs on Jacob’s shoulder to get a better view.

Inside, the family was gathered around a huge wooden box. The mother lit a candle atop the box, then sat before it and created beautiful music. Jacob had never heard such a beautiful sound. His mouth hung open at the window.

“Watch your tongue,” the sheep offered.

“What?” Jacob closed his mouth and stared down at the little sheep.

“I hear it sticks to stuff in this cold. Hard to get free again.”

Jacob shook his head and returned to watching the family.

“You said you wanted more help!” the sheep muttered.

Inside the whole family was singing to the music:

“Joy to the world

The LORD is come

Let earth receive her king

Let every heart prepare him room

And heaven and nature sing

And heaven and nature sing

And heaven and heaven and nature sing”

Jacob loved the music so much that he forgot the cold. They sang a few songs, but it wasn’t until the last one that he made a connection:

“Away in a manger

No crib for a bed

The little Lord Jesus

Laid down his sweet head”

“Hey, they’re singing about that baby we saw!” Jacob’s eyes lit up.

Just then the family left the box and rummaged for a flat little gift, which they gave to their daughter. Together the children unwrapped it, then snuggled together on a bench before the window and stared at the gift together. Jacob stretched on tip-toes and finally got a glimpse of it. It was pictures, of the baby in the manger, with the animals, and shepherds, all around.

“Please tell me what is going on?” Jacob was hungry to know. “Why are they singing songs about that baby?” Tears surprised him, warm on his face, as he looked at the little sheep. He wanted what he saw in this family, even in the shepherds. He wanted love.

“The baby, and the man he became, is the Son of God, the LORD, come to live among us.”

“Okay,” Jacob wanted to hear more.

“He isn’t like our power hungry leaders.” Jacob knew this to be true from what he’d seen and heard of Jesus.

“He laid down his life,” the sheep went on, “He died, to forgive, even those who ridiculed and misunderstood him.”

“Like me,” Jacob whispered to himself.

“But he won’t stay dead!” the sheep was jumping up and down on Jacob’s shoulder now. It startled him. “He will rise again, like he said he would! He is about to now back in Jerusalem!”

“Please can we go back. Please.” Jacob believed it, somehow, and needed to see Jesus himself.

 

This time Jacob was not surprised, but relieved, when the world blurred and he found himself once again on the hillsides of Bethlehem. Elias was still sobbing with his mother, just as they had left him. The sky was beginning to glow with the first morning light. Bravely Jacob approached them, and made the poor shepherds jump in shock. Elias burrowed further into his mother when he realized who it was.

“I have good news!” Jacob began. “Or my friend here does.” He turned to the sheep upon his shoulder, but found that he was no longer there. Jacob instinctively felt inside his tunic. The sheep was there, the cold wooden toy from Samuel’s shelf again.

Jacob pulled it out and looked at it, sadly. Then held it out for Elias. Elias looked scared, and his mother took it for him. She puzzled at Jacob and hugged her son tighter. “This toy sheep is your good news?”

“No,” Jacob started, “It’s what it showed me. It’s what’s to come!” And he told them everything.

 

As the son rose over Bethlehem, Jacob chased the shepherds, once again, over the hills, towards the tomb where Jesus had been laid.

By the time they got there it was long abandoned.

This is a story I wrote in January, when I was struggling with a lot of wondering and waiting to see how 2018 would unfold. We had a writing prompt to describe what was going on in heaven before the incarnation. I expanded it into Mary’s story, because as I imagined what she might have been feeling before it all I felt very encouraged that waiting, though hard, can be a good thing, when we’re longing for God’s kingdom to come. It’s fun for me to look back from this place at the end of the year, when so many prayers of longing have manifested. I see God at work and am letting go of needing to know how his plans will unfold going forward. I feel a deep rest for my soul that I am incredibly thankful for.

 

“Waiting can be hard.”

The words stung Mary with a force that made her wince. She turned to face her grandmother, who glowed in the doorway, both from the setting sun and her predictable wild and mischievous smile. Mary turned back to the beans she was shelling.

Waiting was Mary’s whole life. She didn’t know what she could do but endure it. But somehow her grandmother’s smile made her feel like she was missing something.  

Mary had been waiting to become a woman so she could marry her betrothed. He was a good man, they all said, Joseph the carpenter, which was good because Mary had no choice. Everything was all planned out. All there was left to do now was wait for him to take her home with him whenever he was ready. And yes, waiting was hard, especially when you’re that last of your friends to cross the threshold into womanhood and marry.

Mary’s grandmother had recently come to live with their family, because her husband had been killed. Mary felt incredibly awkward around her grandmother because of the pain surrounding it, and also because of her grandmother’s persistent joy.

 

That evening as the family huddled around their meager meal, Mary closed her eyes in prayer. She felt the dance of the flame that lit their home through closed eyelids. Mary savored the dance, feeling it beat inside her, unpredictable and free. Mary sighed, and a silent, wordless longing rose to her Maker. She wanted to dance like the flame, not to her own tune, or everyone else’s, but to her Maker’s. Mary knew Yahweh to be predictably surprising, like her grandmother.

When she finally opened her eyes, Mary could feel her grandmother’s gaze. Feeling bold she dared to lift her eyes and meet it, even smiled back into the loving face. Mary took a deep breath, one that was not a sigh, and savored the smells of her mother’s cooking, mixed with her father’s sweat. She pondered how much her little brother’s laugh sounded like the donkey’s bray. She wondered how many more nights like this she would share with them.

With that last thought Mary’s momentary joy vanished.

 

That evening as she lay upon her mat, Mary fixed her eyes upon the stars filling the window. It was her habit, how she prayed, with her eyes open and fixed on the greatness of the Maker. She knew all the stories: how Yahweh had spoken to Moses and led his people out of slavery with a cloud by day and fire by night. She knew the promise that He was coming back to rescue them again. Mary closed her eyes against the pain as she thought of her father’s many scars earned defending the innocent, of her grandfather’s death. When would help come again? More waiting! Mary turned her face to the wall and cried, silently, so as not to wake anyone in the tiny home. Her prayer was simple, “Please come. Please come!”

 

The next morning Mary went to the well for water, as she always did, without thinking. It was her job. That’s why she was surprised to find her grandmother there, drawing water already.

“Good morning, Mary. Would you like a drink?” Mary froze, trying to figure out if she was late and in trouble. But the caring look in her grandmother’s eyes relaxed her.

“Yes, thank you, Grandmother,” Mary said politely, taking the offered cup.

The old woman sat silently for a long time, watching Mary drink. Finally she said, “My Mary is troubled.”

“Yes, I am, Grandmother.” Mary’s finger raced around the brim of the cup. Her grandmother gently put a hand on top of her racing one to calm her, then lifted Mary’s chin to meet her gaze. “Tell me everything child.”

“Oh, I don’t even know where to start. I am so tired of wondering, Grandmother. I waited through years of hearing my friends tell their stories about entering womanhood. Years of thinking it could be any day! And now I am here and still I am waiting. Even though I am so weary of the waiting, still I am afraid to enter into a whole new life. And one that seems like such drudgery. I do not want Mother’s life, I am sorry for saying it, but I don’t. I want more than the next step. I want deliverance from all our suffering and oppression. I want Grandfather back.” Tears streamed down Mary’s nose and onto her grandmother’s shoulder as the old woman pulled her to.

“I don’t want to wonder whether Father will come home every night,” Mary went on through her sobs, “because he stands up for what is right like Grandfather did. But at the same time, I want Mother to have courage and stop cowering in fear, hiding behind the next meal. I want Yahweh to show up and set us all free! That’s what I really want more than anything. When will Yahweh show up for us, like in all the stories, Grandmother? I know He is able to help us! He is!”

Mary took a deep breath, inhaling her grandmother’s scent. It was familiar, and yet hard to pin down, just like her grandmother.

The old woman stroked Mary’s hair in silence for a long time before she began to hum a song. It was an old, old song she’d sung to Mary her whole life, a song of the Promised One. Mary let herself sink into the song, as her grandmother had taught her. She imagined herself swimming in, and then floating on the promises that carried her on the tide of hope. Only this time she reached the beach and she saw Him, the Promised One. For a split second in her mind he was real, real in every way and so familiar!  

“It is a good thing to quietly wait, to hope for help from Yahweh.” The old woman raised herself. But Mary was still treasuring her vision. “You are a fortunate girl to see the way you do, Mary.” Mary studied her grandmother’s face, wondering how much she knew. She pondered her grandmother’s words. For an instant she could see how the waiting, the longing, was good.

Then her mother’s call cut through the moment like a sword, “Mary! I need water. What are you doing, girl?”

 

That afternoon as Mary was kneeling in the garden, carefully weeding the new little shoots, an instantaneous cloud blocked out the sun. The air felt electrified. Slowly Mary rose to look around. She had heard the old ones tell of a time when the sun had been blotted out and her mind raced to this strange occurrence. But what she saw took her breath away.

A man hovered above the earth, so radiant with light that she had to shield her eyes. Then he spoke, “Greetings, favored one. The Lord is with you!”

Mary sunk back to the ground, shielding her eyes, and wondered what on earth this greeting meant. Why was the Lord coming for her? Was she about to die?

But the angel went on, reassuring her, “Mary, you have nothing to fear. You have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great, be called ‘Son of the Highest.’ The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David. He will rule Jacob’s house forever; his kingdom will never end.”

Mary gazed upon the angel, awed and overwhelmed by what she had just heard, until a matter of practicality hit her. “How will this be?” she asked, “since I am a virgin?”

The angel laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound Mary had ever heard. Still she strained her ears to hear his reply. “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, the power of the Highest hover over you. Therefore, the child you bring to birth will be called Holy, Son of God.”

“Oh,” Mary breathed into her hands.

“And did you know,” the angel went on, “that your cousin Elizabeth conceived a son, old as she is? Everyone called her barren, and here she is six months pregnant! Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.”

Mary’s heart soared as she saw what was happening. God had heard her prayers, and He was coming to save them! He was fulfilling His promises, the ones Grandmother sang about. The Promised One was coming, into Mary.

“I see,” Mary replied looking into the angel’s eyes, “I am the Lord’s servant, ready to serve. May it be with me just as you say.”

Then the angel left her and went back up into heaven.

 

When Gabriel returned to heaven all eyes were peeled, waiting for his entrance. “It’s a go!” he sang for all to hear. The joyous raucous was deafening. But Gabriel flew through the commotion looking for Jesus. He was going to miss him. He had to say goodbye.

Finally Gabriel found Jesus. He was donning a modest human body for his farewell party. Gabriel could see hints of the young girl he’d just talked to in his face. “Wow,” the angel breathed, studying this new man.

“So,” Gabriel put a hand on Jesus’ shoulder, respectfully, and affectionately, “How are you feeling?”  

“Excited as any kid at Christmas,” Jesus winked.

“Huh?” Gabriel scratched his head, until he finally gave up trying to understand. “I’m going to miss you, man.” Gabriel winked back.

Jesus laughed, and gave a little nod, “Until we meet again.”  

Jesus was excited. He had been waiting for this moment, well, forever—or at least since time began. He was going to get to experience the limited life of created man. He looked over at his Father, always at his side, and felt an unfamiliar pain.

God the Father stopped and looked into Jesus’ deep brown eyes. “You will learn to see me, as they do.” Jesus nodded.

“And hear you?” he asked, feeling childlike already.

“As they do,” God the Father smiled with warmth that melted any hint of pain. “Nothing can separate us, my Son.”

Jesus stood with God the Father on the pinnacle above the heavens. Below the angels sang with jubilation, and beauty, beyond human imagination.

“Remember,” God the Father embraced his Son, “I love you.”

Jesus smiled, “Alright, let’s do this!” And with that he dove from the pinnacle of heaven with a shout of joy. The Holy Spirit caught him in strong wings and transformed him into a seed, which he delivered to the body of a willing young girl.

Here’s part of a little song I’ve been working on.

Audio Player

 

There’s no room in love for fear

For true love casts it from here

Repelling like same-poled magnets

 

Yes, there’s no room in love for fear

For true love casts it from here

Open up your eyes so I can show you

 

That I am in each child of mine

Asking for your precious time

If you will accept the invitation

 

I am really having a hard time getting into the “Christmas spirit” here in Australia this year. We’re not stringing cranberries and popcorn, or unwrapping Christmas books each day of this month. I didn’t bring the Christmas books box, or the books of Christmas songs that we enjoy playing on piano and singing through November and December. We have no tree or lights. An advent candle to remind us that Jesus is the light of the world would feel very silly when it’s light out well before 5am. We can’t bake anything for Jesus and make our first piece offering here in West End, it would be littering.

I have to admit that I really miss these things, and will likely have a new appreciation for them next year. But I am thankful that all of our intentionally built up traditions are being stripped from me, because it’s helping me get back to the heart of Christmas, which is, quite simply, that God came to earth as a baby.

Three years ago, when Twill was an infant, I was filled with the Christmas spirit before Halloween even. I wrote a piece on Christmas Joy that I am feeling keenly again. So I wanted to share it here.

It’s from October 27, 2015

My life is pretty messy right now with four little boys.  It’s full of tempers, not the least of which being my own, sleepless nights and tummy troubles, all the predictable messes you can imagine and some you really don’t want to hear about.  Life is also pretty mundane right now.  I don’t really do much besides feed and clothe my family each day as they all run together.  And yet the truth is I have more joy right now than I ever have.  Not just happy moments when the kids are cute, but unshakable joy when I blow it every day. So much that I just have to share it.  The thing that’s overflowing me with joy is Christmas.  It’s not even Halloween and I am giddy thinking about Christmas.

It is increasingly meaningful to me as life rolls on that God came as a baby.  He didn’t cut any corners when he came.  He came as a baby with everything to learn.  This is fun to think about with a house full of little boys.  Jesus had to learn to get his hands to his mouth.  He had to learn to talk and say “please.”  He probably wet his pants, wiped his hands on shirt, his nose on his sleeve, and made poop jokes.  He was a little boy.  And even though he was perfect, we know for a fact that he tried his imperfect parents’ patience, because there’s even record of it.

Then he lived through the awkwardness of the teenage years, and every single day of the tumultuous twenties, wrestling with hormones and identity, navigating relationships and maturing emotions.  This is not easy stuff for anyone.  He may have broken a few hearts, not because he was careless, but because we are so desperately hungry for love and he’s incredibly good at loving.  My Jesus was a young man, whether ignored or sought after, I can only imagine.

This just gets to me that God lived through each messy, mundane day, slowly maturing just like we are.  My husband likes to point out that movies can be so cohesive and poignant because no one ever has to go the bathroom.  It’s not real life, just the parts that make a good story.  But God is not about appearances.  He’s not like an executive who doesn’t know his janitor.  He could have just come for a week vacation to see what it’s like down here, but he didn’t.  He came as a baby.

The truth is I can understand where he might have been tempted to cut his visit short when I think about what he was walking into.  It’s not safe down here.  We get hurt regularly, and often by each other.  What pierces my heart when I read about his manhood, the years I am in right now, is how lonely he was.  He tirelessly poured himself out day and night, healing and loving everyone he met.  But no one “got him,” not his friends or his enemies.

I think it’s safe to say we all want to be known, I can tell you I do anyway, but Jesus didn’t get to feel understood at all while he was here.  The only one who knew him was the Father he had left up in heaven, even though he lived day in and day out with those around him. There was no one he could entrust himself too, one of his best friends records, because he could see into their hearts.

This is so sad to me that Jesus walked this messy life so friendless.  I think this has got to be one of the biggest burdens he carried each day.  He wasn’t like us.  He didn’t get to give people the benefit of the doubt to get through messes in relationships.  He saw into their hearts, and loved them anyway.  I know enough about my own heart to know that I don’t truly want to know what’s in everyone’s heart.  The depth and darkness of my own is overwhelming enough.

So this is what fills me with joy these days.  That God came as a baby.  He did not cut any corners or do anything for show.  It was all for love.  Each messy day he spent growing into a man was for love.  Each lonely day he spent loving those around him, even though he could see into their hearts, just amazes me.  And I believe he is still doing it for me right now, loving me even though he knows my heart, brining purpose to each messy day.  I just can’t keep this joy inside this Christmas.  I want to share it with everyone I love

I wish I could put the brakes on somehow, to stop time from flying by so fast here in Australia. I know that there’s nothing we can do but enjoy it to the fullest, so we have been snowballing in social activity and outdoor play, while everyone back home is actually making snowballs and hunkering down into hibernation. Last weekend I did tell some friends that it feels a bit odd biologically that we won’t get the slow down of winter until another year from now. But I am not complaining in the least!

Nov 1

At the turn of the month Twill has a minor obsession with ducks. The ones he makes out of Duplos whet his imagination, he really needs to see some in real life. So we find the nearest park, the Roma Street Parklands, and walk there on Wednesday, October 31^st, just to see the ducks. The next day, November 1^st, our friend, Kashelle Knox, suggests we meet at the Roma Street Parklands, because we’d asked her where we might see some ducks. So we walk back out there, two days in a row, to see friends. We even ride the train through the park with them.

Nov 3 (and 10,17,24)

          

We have a new Saturday routine for the month of November. Chris starts running Park Run at South Bank. He runs to campus at 4am for his 5am meeting, then runs down to Park Run for a 7am 5k race. The boys and I race through the 20 minute walk to get there in time to see Chris finish. Then we swim at the beach, play at the park, and enjoy breakfast over the grill with folks from church who also regularly run Park Run. It feels like we are experiencing more of Brisbane, getting out so early every Saturday morning.

After breakfast breaks up, we all walk home, grab the trolley, and head immediately over to the Davies Park Markets. I fill the trolley with the week’s produce, and Chris lets the boys each spend $5 on a treat. It’s fun to see how they pool their resources and share sometimes.

The last Saturday Chris doesn’t have a meeting, so Lewis and I run Park Run. It’s a treat to see the trail through the QUT Botanical Gardens that I hadn’t yet seen. Lewis really pushes me. I am looking for a conversational pace, but he is motivated by the competition to pass people the whole time.

Nov 7

The West End State School holds a rain dance, along with many other schools state-wide, to support rural kids affected by the drought. The boys have been practicing and talking about it for weeks. Chris, Twill, and I sneak into the school grounds to watch, with a handful of other parents. I am so glad we do! We can’t find Lewis and Stewart amid the sea of over 1000 students, but we spot Wesley before it begins, thanks to the color coded bands on prep kids’ hats. Wesley surprises us with how well he knows the dance! I get it on video and am still marveling.

Nov 14

Twill and I meet Amelia and Tamsyn from church down at South Bank for a playdate at the beach. Twill is a curious observer of the real friendship that Hailey and Oliver have at 3 and 4 years old. Levi and Arthur are still babies, not exactly on Twill’s radar. I keep thinking I need to get Twill more time with his peers. Our friends ask if we miss things about home. I have to admit that, even though I hate the cold, if I were here more than one year I would really miss a snowy Christmas. They say there seems to be a strong sentiment around it even in Australia, in their decorations and books.

Nov 16

I am determined to teach Twill to walk on his own, because my back is buckling under his weight. Our attempts to walk to the park Monday and Tuesday of this week end quickly when he doesn’t listen to stop. So by Friday he is pretty determined to listen and make it to the park. He does so beautifully, holding my hand and talking to me most of the way to Orleigh Park. When we get to the larger playground there is a free event going on for kids his age. We join them, but Twill mostly observes. Afterwards I ask him if he wants to find more of these park events and he surprises me with his enthusiastic “yes!” When we get home I sign him up for one the following week. It’s all about exploring nature with our 5 senses and sounds perfect for Twill.

Nov 19

Chris invites Twill and I to join him for lunch on campus! After getting groceries at Aldi, we catch the bus into the city, return library books, get Lewis and Twill new swimmers, and walk through the Roma Street Parklands to Chris’ campus. By the time we get there we are pretty hungry. We find Chris in his office, find some Turkish kebab together, then get some new library books at the campus library. Afterward we get to see the route Chris walks every afternoon to get the boys from school. Twill sings happily to himself in the carrier, and the hour walk feels almost like a date.

Nov 21

Twill and I have a new Wednesday routine of going to the beach. The last couple months it has been our local library story-time day. But the 90 degree weather makes the free local beach seem a bit too enticing when Chris is spoiling us with so many good books from campus. This day he grows particularly bold in the sand, wanting to not only bury me, but be buried himself. I celebrate that he is getting more comfortable in the water. We get my parents on video chat and show them our beach.

Nov 22

Twill and I take bus and train up to Kalinga Park for the Active Parks event we’d signed up for. I am somewhat disappointed that Twill is the only kid there for the first half hour, and there’s not much attention to the 5 senses. The young workshop leader is a drama instructor, who’s great with dramatic little girls, but doesn’t exactly draw out my shy, sensitive little boy. Regardless of my feelings, Twill seems to enjoy it quite a bit. We race back to the train station, just as the rain lets loose, and enjoy a return trip in the rain. A nice young man shares his umbrella with us as we’re crossing the street between train and bus. Twill and I enjoy an apricot that we bought from a local farmer who’d set up shop in the train station. We wash our hands in the rain pouring off the awning above stop 44. Chris has a conference on campus with a banquet late into the evening, and is missed sorely at bedtime.

Nov 27

Every Tuesday this term Twill and I attend Wesley’s swim lessons at school, and enjoy Lan’s company between school drop off at 8:40 and the 10:15 lessons. Twill calls her his friend too, and loves going to her house. This particular Tuesday there’s an odd break in the heat wave, just for one day. Twill and I do not want to go inside on such a beautiful day. So after swim lessons we pack a picnic and hike to the park on Paradise Street. Chris ceremoniously hid the carrier over the weekend, to wean Twill off it. The walk goes well, even though the park is further than Orleigh. We meet Simon and his son Ocean at the park. Ocean really wants to share his hotwheels cars with Twill, and Twill warms up to him as I visit with Simon. Simon grew up in Florida and Toronto, but has a lot of nostalgia about Toronto, because of the four seasons, even though he’s spent over half his life in Australia now. It makes me appreciate them more too.

Nov 28

Our new friends, Javed and Shagufta, who are refugees from Pakistan, come over to meet with Wez and I. I met them in a park a couple months ago and have been hoping to get to know them better. Friday when Twill and I were weeding our front yard they walked by and we exchanged phone numbers. They have a fascinating story of persecution and hardship, but English is still quite a challenge. Wez and I brainstorm how we can help them settle in here. We have a few Iranian refugee families at Sojourn who are going through the asylum seeking process. Afterwards, Twill and I head down to the beach, but end up mostly in the fountains. I can’t believe how bold he’s getting, and revel in his dancing. I am sure all this time under the sprays will help make showers more enjoyable, but am sorely disappointed when it doesn’t.

Nov 29

Twill and I walk down to the Queensland State Library with Chris after dropping the boys off at school. Chris enjoys the cool, quiet workspace, and Twill and I enjoy a morning of nursery rhymes and songs. We catch the end of baby rhyme time from 9 to 9:30, then play until they sing more toddler rhymes at 10am. They tell of even more singing, with a guitar, that will be happening in the 11 o’ clock hour, and Twill is definitely keen to stay. I finally have to drag him away from the farm animals he grew attached to a little after noon. We walk home, still with no carrier, and a hungry little boy. So we get a doner kebab and piece of falafel at a place near the local public library. Twill was pretty disappointed that we couldn’t take books home from the State Library, so we get 20 more from the West End library after lunch and make it home.

   

After dinner we all head down to the West End Recreation Hub for exercises on the river for my cenita. It’s so cool in the evenings on the river, in stark contrast to the heat of the day. You can see how I buzzed Wesley’s hair way too short here. Yes, that is a skunk stripe down the center. It is so incredibly hot that I wanted to go short, but didn’t realize that no attachment effectively means a shave. Thankfully, Wesley’s hair grows fast.

Nov 30

In the evening we try the Sunset Social at Davies Park for the first time, with Lan, Rich, Antonio, and Hugo. I try a kangaroo burger, which has very unique flavor. Lewis is having too much fun playing soccer to eat his pizza. The boys run with a soccer ball, or run laps, or chase birds, or find sand piles all around the huge field. As the sun goes down the huge fruit bats come out. Rich says they’re called flying foxes, but he’s a bit of a joker, so we wonder. I wonder why we haven’t done this sooner, and learn that we will definitely bring water bottles next time. As we walk home under the tree shadows we hear the Christmas concert that started a bit too late for us to enjoy. The Christmas music feels so out of place to me. I secretly rejoice that the older boys actually ask to shower before bed.

Even though it’s hot and sunny here in Brisbane, and there are no turkeys or pumpkin pie, I have not forgotten Thanksgiving. I had so much fun doing our family Thanksgiving letter last year that I am definitely making a tradition of it, no matter where we are!

First, here’s last year’s. I’ve enjoyed remembering and wanted to include the original.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1youN64tsuunearEg5X2dV39eDHQpdvF_Kdyht9RW4Ic/

Chris

               

I am thankful for the way Chris loves me. I often want him to love me because I am beautiful, or a good mother, or a good cook, or…fill in the blank. But he refuses to love me for what I do, thankfully, and often shows forgiveness through unspoken kindness. I am humbled by how much I am shaped by the love of others through the ups and downs, grown and freed by it too. I couldn’t ask for a better partner in life.

Chris is enjoying a break from hundreds of college students looking up to him this semester, but he has been working just as hard, building games for a company in Madison since April. These projects have him working more closely with colleagues than ever, even though they’re on the other side of the world. He has also been working with Andy, here in Brisbane, and teaching our friend Clayton to program every Sunday afternoon. On top of it all he still works passionately on his own inventions and growth. We are thankful for the music he makes everyday with the keyboard he brought across the ocean. He tells the boys that there’s not much difference between adults and kids, because his work really is his play. The difference, he says, is that adults have deadlines and get paid. All the boys are learning about passion from Chris for sure.

Lewis

    

When I think of Lewis, I am thankful for his hugs and snuggles. I have also enjoyed running with Lewis and Stewart early Sunday mornings. I am thankful for conversations with Lewis, at bedtime and on bus rides. I feel like I am getting to know him a little bit more, like I’ve longed to through years of caring for babies. The other night I learned that his favorite smell is firewood. I am also thankful to be able to play games with him more, both ones he makes, and ones I played when I was a kid.

Here in Australia, Lewis is finding new passions, like chess, handball, and dance. But what I love about Lewis is how well he generously shares what he loves. He’s gotten the whole family dancing to Just Dance, and also turned the living room into a 6 square handball court. He is already teaching us and growing our family. I have dreams of taking some kind of exercize dance class with him someday soon. I am so thankful for how the schools here are fostering this passion for dance!

Lewis is thankful for: going to the Koala sanctuary, making houses for kittens back home, The Bad Guys books, going to the beach at the ocean, playing at South Bank, making new friends, trying new food at the Boundary Street Markets, Insane Acai Bar, Sojourn Bible Church, my birthday party, the Carleton track and ice cream shop in Northfield, Grandma playing ukulele, the new fruits here in Brisbane, West End State School, cardboard castles, so much paper for drawing, the IsoSketch tool (for 3D drawing), game night upstairs and so many board games downstairs, “friendy skurrel” at Carleton College

Stewart

              

I am thankful for Stewart’s questions! He has kept them coming since he could talk. I love that he comes home from school wanting to look up lyrics to songs he’s heard at school, or see where the Garden of Eden was in the world. Every day there’s something new that he wants to know, and we’re all learning from his bold curiosity.

I am also thankful for Stewart’s thankful heart. He has missed home more than anyone, but now he seems genuinely thankful for the chance to be here. I love hearing Stewart’s voice singing table prayers, and hearing the songs he’s made up with friends at school while we wait at the stoplight. I love how he counts down the days until church, and wants to take his friends from church home with us—literally, home to Wisconsin, in his suitcase.

We are also loving his connection based jokes, that are spreading through the whole family, like:

What animal loves running? A Puffin

What’s the most mischievious club in the world? The “Illumi-naughty”

What dog is best at hiding? A “where-wolf”

What chicken do you find in the air? Just plane chicken

Stewart is thankful for: The Bad Guys books, Soujourn Bible Church, science at West End State School, the isosketch tool (for 3D drawing), Insane Acai Bar, the track at Carleton College, Breath of the Wild (latest Zelda game), my family, Rainbox (game Chris made him for his birthday), making jokes, water cause it’s hot

Wesley

        

I am thankful for Wesley’s eagerness to learn! He has so many questions too, that sadly seem to come when I’m cooking. So they get deflected to his big brothers, and he immediately turns around and wants to teach Twill everything he learns. I tell him his brain is just exploding right now (he knows what I mean). He loves reading and writing, math, drawing pictures, taking pictures, making movies, and building 3D worlds out of boxes and paper. What I love is how unhindered he is by failure at this stage. Even with big brothers correcting him, he has this reckless abandon for learning. And for life, really, as you can see in this first picture. I guess he was the first to jump in and hold this live snake at the first birthday party he was invited to. I wasn’t there, but my friend Lan took a picture for us.

I am thankful for walks around the block after dinner with Wesley. I have missed getting outside with Wesley, an awful lot. He opens up to me on hikes in ways he won’t otherwise. I love it that he still wants to sit in my lap when he reads to me, or I read to him, or we’re watching a marble maze video online. He’s got all the boys pretty excited about those. But whenever Wesley sees one, he wants to go and make it out of paper as best he can. That’s what I love about Wesley.

Also pictured is the 16 square handball court he created on the handball pad at church, so everyone could play. And the lake he loved that Grandma Terry took us to in western Iowa.

Wesley is thankful for: Popscicles, fruit bowls at Insane Acai Bar,birthdays and inside time at school, South Bank park and beach, Riverside Family Camp, Carleton College dining center and Rice County Fair, Grandma playing ukelele and the hammock at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, the lake we went to with Grandma Terry, Muffy the kitten, picking strawberries, riding an airplane, all the parks in Brisbane, morning tea at church, the beach at the ocean, making farms out of legos with Twill, the cool oven at the restaurant and the bike ride for Twill’s birthday,

Twill

     

I am thankful for time to get to know Twill this year too. He has a new passion, somehow flourishing here in the city, for farm animals. He makes them everyday out of Duplos, builds barns for them, talks to them, feeds them hay. We take pretend train rides to the farm on a regular basis here. He shows me all the animals that are in everyone’s bedrooms. I love Twill’s budding imagination, and his independence. Already there are times that he doesn’t want me to interrupt his solo drama.

I am thankful for Twill’s questions and interest in God too. Yesterday he said, “Tell me about God and the animals.” He loves to hear me talk about how God made the animals, including us, and loves them, and doesn’t want us to hurt them, or each other. Just like Twill doesn’t want people destroying the animals that he makes every day. Twill loves to talk about how God and Jesus are the Big Makers and we’re little makers. Last year Twill would say, “talk to me, Mama” and it would break my heart, because I couldn’t figure out how to slow down enough. But he doesn’t say it anymore, he just asks questions, and I am so thankful for them.

In the pictures you can see the cardboard castle Lewis mentioned, the Insane Acai Bar fruit bowls we love, Muffy the kitten, play-doh animals, and the Rice County Fair near Northfield.

Twill is thankful for: ice cream and popsicles, Mama Teddy and Kitty, calves, donkeys, cows, horses, pigs and piglets, kittens, books, books, books

   

Cedar

    

I know I’ve said it before, but it is such a dream come true to share this adventure as a family. I am savoring every warm day, full of beautiful flowers and their heavenly smells. I love the exotic, unfamiliar birds, that are becoming familiar, who wake me every morning. We do not take for granted all the fresh tropical fruit that we get for a steal at the market every Saturday. The other day I made a fruit salad with strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, mango, peaches, bananas, and passion fruit. Twill loves helping me make fruit salads every weekend.

I love it that the kids are making friends in the neighborhood through school. I love that we have a church that feels like family. I love that we have just enough dishes for one meal. I am learning just how many things I really don’t miss, like measuring cups and spoons. I love ceiling fans. I love it that I haven’t been in a car since we landed here. I love walking to the store, and taking trains and buses! I love it that we can walk to a free beach 20 minutes away, and do pretty regularly. I am thankful for all these little everyday things every day.

I also fight back guilt most days for all these good things that I really don’t deserve. The other day Stewart asked, “If you have a lot of toys, but you’re really thankful for them, and play with them all the time, are you still spoiled?” It stopped me in my tracks. I said, “no, I guess by definition you’re spoiled if you’re not thankful for what you have, not just because you have things.” I think it was God’s way of telling me to give myself a break, because I am incredibly thankful, but see myself as nothing but spoiled.

At the beginning of July we went to family camp at Riverside again. The speakers were friends we’d worked with at camp back in 2001. One of the passages we looked at was Numbers 12, where Miriam and Aaron grumble against Moses. God stands up for Moses, and reprimands them severely. Miriam ends up quarantined outside the camp for a week. Our friend shared how this passage, in her experience, was about sabbatical, not just punishment. Miriam was worn down to the point of dangerous bitterness and needed time away with God more than anything.

This is what I am thankful for in this time away. I am so thankful for the space to get to know God in new ways, find direction in unlikely places, and learn more about myself and family. I know I need healing for the dangerous bitterness and discontentment that has been growing in me. I am so thankful that God corrects me with such unbelievable love.

I am also thankful to be running and blogging. I am thankful for the Deffenbaughs taking care of and enjoying our home, and for the Coffey’s letting us live here! I am thankful for the time at Riverside, and the time we had with family before we left, for the creeks and tree climbing in Northfield. I am thankful that I got to plant the garden this spring, and that even this morning Twill was still remembering it. I am thankful for my writing group ladies, the Letter Belles, and the consistency of that through all the change. I will probably keep adding things for the rest of the year, because I can!