A Happier, Non-Dissertation Post.

I know I said I wasn’t planning to do dissertation blogging this week, and I’ve gone back and forth as to whether I felt like blogging anything at all. This is an introspective time of year, and there is, if anything, too much introspection in my life these days. A little break from that has been nice. And I’m never much for New Year’s sentimentality.

However, 2015 was a good year in our household, and I wanted to mention a couple of those positive things which have had nothing to do with my dissertation.

First, we were thrilled to be able to do some traveling earlier in the year, making it to California not once, but twice—first to visit family at the start of the year (the first time we’d seen my in-laws in almost three years), and later to Berkeley so that Kevin could receive his M.A. from the Graduate Theological Union.  It was our first time back in five years. 

I have often thought back on the Berkeley years as being remarkably difficult, dislocated ones, and while I don’t doubt the accuracy of those memories, I was surprised how many positive associations I felt . . . Looking at the familiar vendors along Telegraph, eating at Bongo Burger ( . . .possibly more than once), finally making the steep hike into the Hills to see the Rose Garden—something I’d wanted to do when we lived there, but probably wasn’t in good enough shape to manage at the time, or confident enough to venture on my own. That was an oddly triumphant moment for me. 

I suppose many of these feelings had to do with coming back a little different and a little older. Certainly our life doesn’t look the way I imagined it would back then—we didn’t guess, for instance, that Kevin would be walking for an M.A. instead of a Ph.D. after making a dramatic career switch—but I don’t think I would trade any of the experiences.

The other major development, of course, was our house—speaking of things I didn’t expect. I had hoped for a home of our own someday, but the possibility was hardly on my radar screen a year ago. We began looking at homes shortly after returning from Berkeley in mid-May (very much on a whim, initially), ultimately placed three different offers, and had an offer accepted on June 29. Not even six weeks later, we moved into our very own little place. Thanks to our wonderful realtors, as well as the surprisingly happy-go-lucky attitude with which we approached the thing, we enjoyed the process more often than not. We had been content in our city apartment (though we’d frankly outgrown it), and the house-hunting was marked by a vague sense of wonder at finding ourselves grown-up enough for such a step. I think the combination of those things helped us feel fairly peaceful about whatever happened. Even now, it all feels a bit dreamlike to me. 

I don’t think the decision to buy this house was a strongly emotional one for either of us. I didn’t have a feeling of its being The Right House—but once we moved in, it has become that more and more. I’m still surprised how happy it has made me.

Both these things were great blessings for us, and I hope that both—time with family and continuing to set up our home—will be major themes of 2016 as well.

If you’ll pardon a last bit of introspection—I reflected recently that so often, I pray for a deeper walk with God and an assurance of his presence; and yet, when he allows things in my life that force me to depend on him moment by moment (such as attacks of anxiety I can’t really control, or laughably minor aches and pains, or nagging unknowns about the future), I immediately beg for them to be taken away. Kind of ruefully funny at times, but a certain mark of the Fall all the same. Not that it’s wrong in itself to ask for His rescue—but I hope I won’t be so quick to overlook the opportunities the Lord gives to deepen my delight in Him, and not in my circumstances. He is so very gracious to do that, and to give comfort through the fellowship of His people, as I’ve found many times through this blog in recent months. Thank you guys, again, for your part in that.

"by His grace, in this part of His vineyard, I grow."

It occurred to me that I've had this blog for about a year now. That means we've been living in St. Louis for two whole years—longer than we'd lived in Berkeley. We've already spent more than half our marriage here.

I've been reflecting lately on how St. Louis truly feels like home to me. I don't just mean in a sentimental way, or that I feel like I've lived there all my life. It's also not true that Western Pennsylvania and Southern California aren't "home"; they probably always will be, no matter where we end up. But there is a real sense in which it's home, and I think there are two pieces of that:

First, the fact that we decided it was home before we even moved in. As we made our decision about where I would begin a doctoral program, Kevin and I were very intentional about choosing a place that would not only allow me to thrive academically, but where we could establish a home. I want to be careful not to make this sound like a diss on Berkeley; there are people in Berkeley I deeply miss, and even a few other things...there will always be a certain sweetness about the first place we lived as a married couple. But I'm not sure we ever felt settled there. It was rocky ground for us. Nevertheless, I know that the Lord put us there for specific reasons, and in time I trust I'll better understand them. (...I hope so. I have questions!)

It quickly became evident that St. Louis had the potential to be home for us in a way that Northern California was not. There were many practical aspects of this, affordability being only one. The bigger reason was that we immediately found a church we loved and said, "This is our church." (Admittedly, this is made easier by the fact that we aren't seminarians—no matter how often we're mistaken for them!—and we don't have a home church elsewhere.) We took the attitude that St. Louis was where we meant to put down roots for a good long while. I, especially, have clung to the belief that my school is only one reason we're here, and it isn't the only or most important part of our lives here. It could be that I'm reacting strongly against a decade of being labeled as a transient student and refuse to be defined by that any longer. Whatever the wisdom of that, it's felt rather crucial to my sanity at times, and apparently it's effective, as I often forget that we technically still fall under that "just-passing-through" category.

The second, more important reason that St. Louis is home is because God has made it that for us. He knew what we needed far better than we did, and he has provided for our every need. I've continually been humbled by his providence—materially, spiritually, relationally—during our short time in St. Louis. He picked out the apartment we would move into, the neighbors we would have, the church we would attend, the small groups we would join, long before we ever thought about them. He planned the classes we would take, the sermons we would hear, the conversations we'd cherish, the months we'd just scrape by, and the joyfully routine days and weeks. All of these things—both the things that make me glad and the things that, as of this moment, make no sense to me—are part of a story God has already written. However it unfolds, God is glorifying himself in it, and teaching me that I am found in him.

Though we anticipate being in St. Louis for two or three more years (I truly can't begin to picture what our lives will look like at that point, or where we'll be headed next), we know very well how things can change. No matter what, it is highly likely that we won't be here forever. That doesn't take away from the fact that St. Louis has truly been, and is, our home. It's my prayer that my home and heart will be as open as possible during whatever remaining time the Lord has for us here.

Finally posting about California

My husband and I just had the opportunity to visit Southern California for a week -- for the first time in far too long. It was wonderful! Even though I took some academic work with me, I was more relaxed than I have been in quite some time. So relaxed, in fact, that I couldn't be bothered to take any pictures worth posting here...sorry about that! (I'm usually preoccupied with capturing good shots of everything, so this was unusual!)

This won't be a narrative of our whole trip, but here are a few things we did, as well as some quick impressions about California in general...

• I'm still in awe of how beautiful it often is. The rugged canyons and mountains between Simi and Malibu practically overpowered me after two years in Missouri. The Pacific is wonderful; my mother-in-law took us for a memorable birthday lunch right on the beach! Of the natural wonders we saw that day, however, I think the memory of the mountains has lingered with me the most.
• Speaking of the natural world and its quirks, I like palm trees. Until I spent two years in the Bay Area, I was half convinced that they only existed in Disney cartoons, typically swaying to ukulele music. And to this day, I find the concept of palm trees, not to mention their prevalence, somehow surprising.
• Spending time with Kevin's college friends is fun. Earlier in our marriage, I let myself feel intimidated by the Torrey crowd, but that is less the case nowadays; I just enjoy them, and Biola people in general. I love spending time on the campus because it holds so many memories for my husband. (He did a great job of lecturing there the night before we flew out of town.) Will & Amanda's wedding was also lovely. It's so helpful to hear a truly good wedding sermon from time to time! It renews my desire to see that my marriage tells the truth about Christ and His Church.
• It's fun going to In-N-Out Burger every so often.
• Mostly, I am amazed that California can feel like home to me in any measure. It's something I never had any reason to expect. In the summer of 2006, my mom and I followed a dusty loop through Needles, California, between northern Arizona and Las Vegas, just so that I could say I had set foot in California. I didn't think it likely I would be back there again. Two years later, I moved there. (Admittedly to Berkeley, not Needles. One could argue that Northern California really counts as a different state...!) 
• In all seriousness, I have been thinking how gracious God is in giving us places to love that we never expected to lay claim on our affections. More especially by forging bonds of love among people. My family is bigger than it was merely four years ago, which is truly a joy for me, something God has been pleased to bring about for His own glory.

Speaking of beloved places, for all that I've almost felt like an honorary Torrey alumna in recent years, I'm reminded that my own college years were spent not in Southern California, but in southwest Virginia; in a pocket of Appalachia I haven't seen in six years and that Kevin has never seen. It would be good to reconnect, I think. I wonder how we might work that into our next travel adventure?