It is a rainy Saturday as I sit here with my coffee and Mumford & Sons, thinking on how hard I’ve found it to make space for this simple newsletter over the past month. I told Josh yesterday that the list of things to do before we leave seems to grow as my capacity to complete it diminishes. But I’m grateful to be sitting here looking out the window at the rain for these few minutes.
I’m not sure what, if anything is saving my life right now. Perhaps more than anything, I am reminding myself to walk through these days with open hands, a rather cliche thing to say, but what I mean by it is to try to hold my plans with a relaxed posture and to hold my worries with unclenched fists.
Still, there are certainly things that are holding up our little world as we swirl through this unprecedented time of change in our family.
Here is What’s Saving My Life Right Now: The Moving Version
Graduation Videos. I am combing through all the old pictures of our oldest son, and the timeline coincides very closely with our move to China. He was only two and a half, and our second son barely a year old when we crossed the ocean for the first time. Looking through these photos has been a sweet time of remembering all the difficulty, all the goodness, how far we’ve come, how absolutely beyond my control it has all been, and how God has been so faithful to walk with us. I’m also realizing how little I care about the “professional” or “artistic” photos I’ve taken over the years, and how much I prefer the candid, badly timed, or poorly lit captures of my sweet boy. It’s the ones that make me laugh that are my favorite.
5k May. Our staff took on the challenge of completing a 5k every day in the month of May, and it has forced me to get out and make it happen no matter what. In a month when it would be easy to let physical exercise go as other pressures mount, I think this has helped me feel less emotionally out of control and worn out. Sometimes Sadie joins me, and I can see her mood lift as we turn up the music and let the pavement pound under our feet, her strong strides always beating me in the race to the finish. Sometimes Josh and I will go together, and I am always grateful for the solitary conversation, the feel of his strong hand grasping mine. It’s hard to keep up a running routine when travel begins, and the month of June will be full of this for us. I’m thankful for the month of May sending us off with a bit of regularity.
Chocolate chip cookies. I am not sure why I am grasping on to daily routines in this last wild month, but they are surely helping somehow. I bought a huge bag of chocolate chips and have decided we will have fresh chocolate chip cookies every night as a final send off. They are easy, and never fail to satisfy or to say to everyone in their presence— this is home and you are loved and welcome here. And perhaps it is just this that I am wanting to say to my kids as they get ready to say goodbye to everything familiar, to my son as he gets ready to leave our home and our family, to our friends as we gather with them for final playdates and dinners. I want to just keep saying in every way I can— this is your place, you are loved here. So have a cookie.
Doing it together. I was telling Josh the other day how several of our kids have mentioned how important it is that we do certain things “all together.” They want to make sure we are driving to and arriving at our new home in Massachusetts all together. That we are having dinner all together. That we are going to all be home on some certain evening all together. That we will have time to be with our son before he leaves for the Naval Academy, “all together.” Josh noted that for kids in a big family who you might think would be tired of the toll of a crowd and the varying ages and needs, they surprisingly like being together. So that’s the gift I’m claiming and clinging to. In this time of Big Change, we’re doing it all together, and that is no small thing.
This memoir. My mom recommended this book on motherhood in your middle age, telling me the affinity to my own life was eerily similar. A woman in her mid-forties with two sons getting ready to leave home, moving to New England in a surprise transition. I have made my way through the first few chapters and am already worried that I too will be sitting in a new home in a few months listening to the muffled sobs of my children in the next room as we navigate a decision that affects every corner of our lives. But, truthfully I am grateful to listen to her words that echo much in my own experience. I know I’m not going through anything unique or unknown. It is a well-traveled path of mid-life change. I’m so grateful for all that has led to this point and truly believe there will be much to work through and cry over but also love and be astounded by in the days to come.
Tim Keller. A little tongue in cheek, when I heard that Tim Keller had passed way, I thought, “you had to leave us now? In the middle of everything else?” I know for those who knew and loved him, it was certainly far too soon. And yet, I am one of many who is so indebted to the pastoral ministry of this man. My kids are certainly tired of me quoting the man. I was not a big reader of his books (though I did appreciate his tome on prayer), but rather have listened to his teaching regularly over the years, and have been profoundly shaped by the way he understood and fleshed out the gospel. For me it was his intellectual breadth combined with an astute observation of culture, his listening posture and compassionate tone that was never condescending but always inviting. The way he never wavered on the truth of God’s word but was so adept at seeing the fascinating and transforming power of the gospel in every part of Scripture— and perhaps more importantly how that connected to our actual lives. This past week, there was a lot of accolade and fitting tribute to Tim. I thought a few were especially powerful, and found myself strengthened once again by his words and his faith.
This podcast tribute— the interview segments are so good.
Pete Wehner’s tribute in the Atlantic.
David Brook’s column: Tim Keller Taught Me About Joy
This week the days will come and go too quickly, and there is no telling what news will reach our ears or which tasks will go undone, which child will rear its head with some need to be met. There will be grace though, you can be sure of it.
Excellent writing Christine. I have been praying for you daily these days asking God to give grace in the joy and sorrow of your leaving and in managing the to-do list that will not get a reprieve until you are sitting on the plane. Can’t wait to see you on this side of the world! 💕