What's Church Got to Do With It?

What's church got to do with it?

That's the question we've been wrestling with at church this Lent. And I have to be perfectly honest - I haven't been blown away by any of the possible answers.

For so long we have been searching for a church where we experience true community. A community of believers who really live life together - in every sense of the word. But I'm starting to believe that's an old-fashioned sense of what church is. That as much as I would like my close-knit community of people to be people I go to church with, it's just not going to happen.

So we've been struggling with church these last few months. Struggling with where to worship on Sunday mornings. Struggling with what we find to be most important when we attend a worship service. Struggling to find a balance between our deep longing for Christian community and knowing that no church really has it. At least not a church that we've been able to find in all of our searching.

Anyone who knows me well knows how frustrated I am with "church." Frustrated that we can't find a place that has good music, good community, and good theology all at the same time. In an honest attempt to let go and find where God is calling us, we've visited several churches over the last couple of months - all with different denominational backgrounds. And every single time we leave feeling like something is missing. Like that's just not the right place for us. Most often it's because they don't baptize babies or they don't have communion.

But this week - something happened that brought that Lenten study question to the forefront of my thoughts. The answer finally clicked in my head. Before I tell you what happened, let me give you a tiny bit of background. 

We bring our two-year old to worship with us. She's not always quiet - in fact, she's usually not - but it's important for us to worship as a family. She doesn't ever go to the nursery - and although we'll take her out for a cookie every once in a while to regroup, we never leave worship simply because she's rambunctious. 

Is it a lot of work? You bet. Do we worship the way we used to? Absolutely not. Do we sometimes get nasty looks when she's noisy. Yup. But we wouldn't have it any other way.

This past Sunday, as we got ready for church, she kept asking for "com-mune" (communion). In fact, she was so excited for communion she refused to eat breakfast - AND we were 30 minutes early. We reminded her that we have to sing some songs, say some prayers, and listen to some stories before we get communion. And like every other Sunday, she sang her heart out during the sermon, couldn't wait to kneel when it was time to pray, and asked for "more" when she was done eating her communion wafer. Every time it happens, D & I both tear up. Sunday, we looked at each other and said,

We can't leave this place. She loves it here.

And today, as we were listening to Pandora, David Crowder's How He Loves came on. She looked at me with her excited face and started singing ... How he loves! Oh he loves us! Then she proceeded to get on one knee, then the other, then both knees, saying,

One knee, other knee, two knees ... Like at church!

She went on to talk about praying and about communion and about cookies ... and I about lost it as I was folding the laundry. I just looked at her and said,

 That's right! That's what we do at church. We pray, we sing songs, and we get communion.

 This week, my precious toddler has answered that question for me.

 What's church got to do with it?

Church is where we go to pray as a body of Christ. Sure - we can pray in other places - but there's just something so holy about getting on your knees in that sacred place with so many other people. And perhaps most importantly for that toddler of mine - and for my husband and I - Church is where we go to receive Holy Communion. It's the place we go when we need to be physically fed with Christ.

In time, we may discover the kind of community we're longing for at church. Or, we may never find it at church. But we will most definitely receive the living Christ. And by receiving the living Christ each and every week, we are fulfilled and empowered to go create that community in the world around us.

This post was originally published during Lent in 2014. While many things in our life are different now, many of the things expressed in this post remain true for us today.

The Rainy Day List

We've seen A LOT of rain this Spring - more than a usual New England Spring, so I'm told - and I am SO over the wet and rainy weather. But in the spirit of celebrating the seasons as they are, I decided I had to find a way to embrace the cold and wet days. So last week, I came up with the idea of The Rainy Day List. I figured if we have a list of projects that we neglect when the weather is nice and we spend the day outside, we can embrace rainy days as a good way to get some of those things done. 

This morning, when we awoke to yet another cold and rainy day, my sweet A said, Mommy, can we make our rainy day list now? Excellent idea, kid. Excellent idea.

So we each got to choose something to add to the list. E chose to play in the basement with A. A chose to make cookies and to do bead art. I added laundry, make a curtain for the bathroom, paint the kids' table, and clean out the fridge. While we still have a lot of work to do in coming up with our true rainy day list that will include all the projects we can think of that need to be done - this was an excellent way to celebrate our cold and rainy start of summer vacation.

And if I'm really honest with myself, when I think of all the many things that can be done inside on a rainy day, I get kind of excited about the rain that is coming. I remember back to our last snow day, in April, when I was super depressed and 100% over New England weather. We decided to paint our bedroom - sure that it would be the last terrible weekend before a beautiful New England summer. And then we visited Georgia, where it was hot and sunny and oh-so-beautiful. And when we came back to New England in May, it was cold. And rainy. And I fell into a deep dark state of homesickness and longing for warm sunshine on my shoulders. And I forgot about the beauty that can come from tackling indoor projects while waiting for those beautiful New England summer days that you know are somewhere on the horizon.

So today we embark on our Rainy Day List. We're hanging it up, on the wall, so that whenever we are feeling depressed about the weather, we can stand in front of it and choose something to do that will bring us joy. Because we know beautiful weather is on it's way ... we just need to be a little more patient. 

What's on your rainy day list?

Discovering Purpose

For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life. ~Ephesians 2:10

I take the albums off the shelf, one by one. Before putting them in the box, I just can’t resist cracking them open. Taking a stroll down memory lane. One in particular catches my attention. Letters from grade school teachers during a transition from one school to another. Three different teachers all had similar things to say…

She is always reading. Every spare moment she has is spent with a book.
Out of the 125 books in the classroom collection, she has read 95% of them.
We never see her without a book in hand.

And then I come across my 8th grade writing test results.

The scoring scale is from 175 to 260. This test score is 272.

I not only topped the chart – I surpassed it. In the 8th grade. Is it possible I knew myself better then than I do now??

I cant help but think about how God has prepared me to do his work since I was a small child. I was created to read. Created to write. As a very small child, I always had a book in hand. I self-published my first book – an autobiography – when I was in the first grade.

But somewhere along the way I got distracted. I no longer read for fun. I forgot to pick up my pen and paper. It wasn’t cool to always have my head in a book. I needed to make friends – to be popular – to be “in.”

And when I started finding that part of me - when I started to revive the creativity deep within my soul - I had babies ... and I was afraid my creativity was gone forever.

But recently I've been feeling that pull to create once again. A dear friend once told me that creativity does come back postpartum ... but that sometimes it takes a year or two. So here I am - two years postpartum for the second time - and I'm once again working to rediscover who God has created me to be.

It’s like discovering a forgotten gift that has been shoved to the back of your closet. You knew it was there – but you had so many other things to keep you busy. You just didn’t have time to find a place for it.

But when you discover it – when you unwrap it for the second, or third, or even fourth time – you begin to realize how God has placed it in your life over and over and over again.

For we are what he has made us …

God is constantly preparing us to answer his call. He’s constantly showing us tiny glimpses of who he has created us to be. Quiet whispers of what he has prepared for us.

And when we answer … when we finally say yes … it feels like all is right with the world.

It’s not always easy to say yes. It sometimes means turning away from those we love. It often means saying no to things we want. There are so many things left unknown. So many uncertainties.

And let’s face it – if we’re honest with ourselves, it’s often more difficult to say yes than it is to say no. Saying yes means a lifetime of being in the dark. But yet at the same time – a lifetime of living in a light brighter than anything we could ever possibly imagine.

And so I continue to stroll down memory lane. Remembering the paths I’ve taken and the people I’ve met. Recognizing God’s presence in each and every one of them. And realizing, in a very new way, that God knew who I was going to be before I was born. He created me to do great things.

And every day I uncover just a little bit more of what he’s got in store for me.

How are you discovering who God’s created you to be? What’s your purpose?

Photo Credit

This post was originally published at Bibledude.net. It has been edited ever so slightly to reflect a new stage of life since it was first written in 2012. Because life changes, but our purpose remains.

From the Garden: Easy Spring Salad

When I went to bed last night, the forecast for today was sunny with a high of 75. When I woke up this morning, it was cold, cloudy, and the forecast had changed to drizzle with a high of 68 and possible thunderstorms. WTF New England ... what is going on here? This is supposed to be the time of the year when we get to actually ENJOY your weather! I'm dreaming of beaches and lakes and sunny bike rides. 

My mood these days seems to be directly related to the weather ... and my food choices are pretty much directly related to my mood ... but today I vowed to rise above the weather and make today a good day. Our garden is finally producing a few things that we can eat, so I put my garden boots on and went outside for a look. In the midst of the cold and drizzle, I found the makings of a perfect spring salad for today's lunch.

Pea leaves - Our peas are just barely producing peas - more are on the way ... but did you know you can eat the leaves?! They make the best addition to a salad because they have a slight pea flavor to them. They add some sweetness, and if you - like me - are not so patient on waiting for your peas to arrive, they get you through these early days of the season.

Lettuce - This is a classic cool weather crop. We don't eat a lot of lettuce, but I'm so glad I planted a little bit. It's so pretty in the garden, and it's fast growing - so I always have something to pick when I'm wanting a taste of freshness!

Baby spinach - I planted a TON of spinach this spring, because I'm hoping to be able to freeze any excess for winter. Spinach is one of the best greens to freeze because it holds its flavor and color so well. This is our second harvest of spinach already this season, and it's so so yummy!

Arugula - I mostly grow arugula because I like using it in pasta dishes, but I also love the spiciness it brings to a fresh green salad. I really love using it on a taco salad - but that recipe is for another day!

Baby carrots - These grew all winter in our garden and I harvested them all just the other day. I'm not convinced growing carrots is worth the patience or garden space ... but I have them - so I'll eat them!

Oregano - Our plant is monstrous, so why not include it in a salad?

Cilantro - My favorite herb of all time. It only grows in cool weather, so I grow (and eat) LOTS of it during the early spring and late fall. It smells amazing, and adds the best pep to your salad.

Radishes - Maybe my favorite crop to plant, because it's as close to instant gratification as you can get. Plant a bunch of radishes, and 20-30 days later you have fresh roots and greens ready to harvest. Another great spicy addition to any salad on your table.

I also added some pecans (from our old yard in Georgia), some croutons made from old bread crusts that I keep in our freezer, and some strawberry slices and goat cheese I found in our fridge.

Food is quickly becoming my favorite way to celebrate these dreary days of Spring. Can you tell?

Spring Chicken Pot Pie [Meals Under $15]

Chicken Pot Pie has always been one of my favorite meals. When I first lived on my own, I would buy the frozen chicken pot pies - simply because they were easy ... and I thought they were oh so delicious. Then I tried my hand at making my own - and the frozen ones just don't taste the same.

Now, I'm super picky about my pot pie. I don't like it to be too oniony - and I hate big chunks of onion in it. I'm not a huge fan of green beans in my pot pie either, so if I'm using frozen veggies, I use peas & carrots. I also like to use phyllo dough instead of pie crust on top. It gives it a terrific crunchy aspect, and lightens it up just a tad. Once you try it this way, you may never go back to "real" pot pie again!

When I made this tonight, I had some leftover rotisserie chicken hanging out in the fridge just waiting to be made into something new, and because the weather is cold and dreary here (what happened to Spring?) I thought Chicken Pot Pie was the perfect comfort meal. Since we have been emptying out our freezer in preparation for the coming harvest season, we are completely out of frozen veggies, so I was left to use what was in my fridge. It was absolutely delightful - and I love that I was able to combine leftover chicken with farm (and garden) produce for this Spring version of chicken pot pie. 

Spring Chicken Pot Pie
Adapted from the Betty Crocker Cookbook

Ingredients
1/3 cup butter ($0.75)
1/3 cup flour ($0.08)
1/3 cup onion (chopped very small) ($0.20)
1/2 teaspoon salt (pennies)
1/4 teaspoon pepper (pennies)
1 3/4 cup chicken broth (free - I make it from leftover chicken bones and skin)
2/3 cup milk ($0.33) 
2 cups cut up cooked chicken - I like to use leftover rotisserie ($2.50)
2 cups chopped carrots ($0.50)
1 cup chopped parsnip ($1.00)
2 cups chopped greens - I used spinach and kale from the garden ($1.50)
5-10 sheets frozen phyllo dough, thawed ($0.25)

Total Cost - $7.25 or so (Say what? Healthy, seasonal comfort food for less than $10?)

Preparation
Put carrots, parsnip, and onions in a tiny bit of olive oil in a warm pan. Cook, stirring frequently, about 5 minutes, or just until fork tender. Take veggies out of the pan, wipe it down, and return it to low heat.

Melt the butter in your pan, then mix in flour, veggies, salt, and pepper. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly until mixture is smooth and bubbly. Remove from heat.

Stir in broth 1/3 cup at a time, stirring between additions so that it stays smooth and doesn't get clumpy. Once all your broth is mixed in, add your milk. Heat to boiling over medium heat, stirring constantly. Boil and stir 1 minute. Stir in chicken and chopped greens. Remove from heat. Pour chicken mixture into a 9 x 9 x 2 pan (or something similar).

Cut your phyllo dough into half-sized sheets. Scrunch up one half of one phyllo sheet and put it on top of the chicken mixture. Continue with half sheets until your mixture is totally covered with phyllo dough. I like to start in the corner and work my way to the other corner. Spray the entire top with cooking spray. (If you're feeling lazy, you can layer the phyllo sheets rather than scrunching them up, spraying them between each sheet. That's what you see in the picture!) Place dish on a baking sheet, just in case there's any run-over. Trust me ... the run-over is the worst to clean up.

Bake at 375° for 30-45 minutes or until top is golden.

Celebrating Spring

It feels like Spring takes ages to arrive here in New England. I'd be lying if I said I was the most patient person around when it comes to weather. The truth is I am really good at loving New England when the weather is nice, but I'm not very good at embracing life here when it feels like 95% of our days are cold and wet. Late Winter and Spring have been quite a challenge for me this year, because for most of April and May we've seen a whole lot of cold and rainy and not a lot of sun.

And let's be real ... it's Memorial Day weekend. This is the weekend you're supposed to spend at the pool and around the grill. While I'm thankful that the sun has decided to re-appear for the weekend, with temps in the upper 60s and low 70s, it's not exactly pool-worthy weather. But it seems we're here to stay a while, so I'm trying to do my best to embrace each day as it comes. Celebrating the good that happens in each season - cherishing the sunny days and being creative with the not-so-sunny ones.

I've found that gardening is one of the things that brings me most joy these days. There's something about gardening that helps me celebrate the season that we are in. It gives me a way to use my hands. It gives me an excuse to get outside. And it reminds me that everything takes time to grow and become plentiful.

So today I'm celebrating Spring by planting seeds. Summer squash, winter squash, green beans, and lots and lots of flower seeds. And when the cold rain comes again this week, I will give thanks for the drops as they water my seeds that will eventually become food on our table.

Welcome to the New Look!

Welcome to the new Soul Munchies!

Many of you know I started this site some years ago as a safe place to wrestle with questions of faith and daily life. Since the birth of this site, I've been through a divorce, re-marriage, a couple of job transitions, several transitions between faith communities, the birth of two children, the purchase and sale of a house we loved dearly, and a huge move from Atlanta - the city we have called home for most of our lives to the Boston-area - a new, very big, very unfamiliar one.

After only a few months in the big city of Boston, we found ourselves longing for a quiet, small town life. We stumbled upon the town of Acton, Massachusetts, where we bought an updated 1950's ranch with a huge yard and tons of potential. Each one of these transitions has shaped me in some way, and has also had fingerprints in the creation and evolution of Soul Munchies. 

With this new redesign, I bring to you a new mission: to explore what it looks like to live simply, faithfully, and seasonally. Although there are exceptions, you'll find that most posts fall into one of three categories: Food, Faith, or Family. These are my three passions, and are the things I devote most of time to, so is only fitting that they are what I write about.

I am so glad you've decided to stop by and I can't wait to get to know each of you a little better!

On Giving Roots ... and Wings

There comes a time when you realize that the tiny baby that changed your life forever is not a tiny baby anymore. She’s still little - she still needs mama, and she probably always will, but one day you realize she has begun her life's journey to independence.

And it totally wrecks me inside. For the last five years, all I’ve known is how to be Mama. And now, with one 5, and the other almost 3, I’m feeling like it’s time for a new identity. And that absolutely terrifies me.

I know it’s been happening in little pieces all along the way. First she started preschool. And then she dropped out. It was too hard for her … and for me too. Neither of us were ready.

And then we moved across the country. And I discovered that I wasn’t sure how to be anything really. This place we now live - it looks so different than the one where I learned to parent. Parenting has to look different here … because of the geography, because of the weather, because of the fact that we no longer live in the city. It’s been hard to find my place here … and in a lot of ways it’s been a rough road over the last 18 months. I found myself wrestling with a feeling that I needed something more than being just Mama. And yet at the same time, I wasn’t quite ready to let them go for any amounts of time - no matter how small or big.

But somewhere along the way we discovered she was ready for a little time on her own. So she started ballet. It was only 30 minutes a week, and I began to watch her go from timid and shy older toddler on that first day to incredibly excited preschooler every single week.

When she began asking about school, we discovered our homeschooling adventures just weren’t enough for her. So we started Pre-K. And she has flourished in that place more than I ever imagined she would. She thrives there. Learning, playing, discovering what it means to be independent and without Mama.

But today … today I dropped her off in a big room that was loud and full of people. She’s getting ready for her very first dance recital, and this is her first big rehearsal on the stage. Parents aren’t allowed, so I gave her a big hug and kisses, said thank you to the teachers and the teenagers who will be hanging out with them all day, and then I walked out the door.

And as I got in the car, the tears began to fall. Partly because she’s getting older and she doesn’t need me quite as much, but mostly because when I left, she was so nervous. She looked so overwhelmed with what was happening around her - like she wasn’t really ready for this, but she knew she had to be brave, so she would sit there and soak it in until someone led her somewhere else. I didn’t want to leave her like that … I wanted her to be excited - to immediately start talking to the other girls in her class … to be thrilled with what was about to happen. But instead, I saw a deer stuck in headlights look on her face. Excitement tempered by nervousness and feelings of being overwhelmed. She was so overwhelmed she didn’t even say goodbye.

It’s a damn good thing that she lathered herself in Sacred Mountain this morning, and that I did the same with Valor. Thank God it’s back in stock and a new bottle is already on it’s way to me. Because if this is what parenting is turning into … I’m going to need a vat of it in my house.

I think these feelings are part of the reason I had a deep longing to homeschool them both - a desire to just hang on to them and their littleness as long as possible. And part of me really loved those initial days of homeschool preschool. But then reality hit. Reality that I can’t give her everything she needs. The reality that this town that we now call home - it doesn’t give us the same opportunity for community the way we had in Atlanta. The reality that our community here will look different - and that public school will be a huge part of that community.

And perhaps the hardest part of all of that is admitting that I need something more. That as much as I do like teaching her and doing the homeschool thing, I also desperately need something that is for me. I desperately need the opportunity to fulfill the gifts and passions that God has placed in my heart without having to care for my children all day every day. Admitting that while my heart hurts that they are growing up and it’s time for them to do things without me, my heart is also SO looking forward to having that time to myself. Time to write and edit. Time to dream. Time to plan essential oil classes. Time to really create something incredible that has been percolating for the last year or so.

It's hard to admit that it is all okay. It is okay for me to not be their everything. It is absolutely okay that I want other adults to teach them things - while at the same time slightly wishing that it could be different. It’s okay for me to both want to be their everything and want to find myself once again.

This stage of parenting - it’s such a roller coaster. Maybe all stages of parenting are. They say it gets easier as they get older … and in so many ways that’s so true. But man - as they begin to separate from you and become their own little people with their own little minds and their own desires - it gets way more emotional.

I think of the tears in my own Mama’s eyes as I said goodbye to her right before we moved away. And I understand them more now than I ever did before. She knew in her heart that I would be okay … but she saw my own fear, my own insecurities, my own timidness and uncertainty … and she knew there was nothing she could do to make them disappear. She knew that she had to watch me do this on my own - with my family - and simply have faith that there would be people in my life that would care for me when she couldn’t.

These feelings of wanting to hold our kids close while at the same time watching them soar … they’ll never go away. And as we embark on this new journey and stage of parenting, I am encouraged by the artwork that hangs on our wall ...

There are two gifts we should give our children ... one is roots and the other is wings.

remember you are dust…

remember that you are dust … and to dust you shall return

Today is Ash Wednesday - a day when we are reminded of this sometimes harsh reality. We are mere mortals. We begin as dust and one day we will return to the same state – nothing but dust. Growing up in a liturgical church I became familiar with these words from a very early age. Each year we are reminded that our lives here on earth will one day end. One day, we will return to dust.

It’s easy for us to focus on the beginning and the end. But I don’t think that’s what Ash Wednesday is all about. Ash Wednesday is the invitation to go on a new journey. A journey of introspection, of intentional meditation, of discovering who it is that God has created us to be.

The good news as we start this journey is that we know how it ends. We know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. We’ve heard the story before. Jesus wins! Our journey is not one into complete darkness. Instead it’s a journey to the resurrection. It is only in knowing where the journey will take us that we are free to explore and enjoy the journey in the meantime.

But again – it’s not about the end. It’s in knowing the end that we are able to live through the journey. If we focus only on the end, we miss so much. Life isn’t about the beginning or the end – life is about the in between. It’s about the memories we make and the stories we tell along the roads we travel.

I remember the year I gave up chocolate for Lent. I think I was about 11. It was awful. I counted down the days until Easter. And in my family, Easter didn’t come until after you had attended the Easter Sunrise Service at 5:30am. So you can imagine me running, as fast as I could, to the car after that sunrise service. I didn’t care that I hadn’t eaten breakfast or that it was only 6am. That Reese’s peanut butter egg in my easter basket was calling out my name.

It was only as I got older that I realized the significance of giving something up for Lent. It’s not to deny myself something that I love, but it’s to give myself a reminder of the journey that I’m on. Every time I desire the very thing I’ve given up, I remember the Israelites’ journey through the wilderness. I remember Jesus’s journey to the cross. I remember my own journey to discover who it is that God has created me to be. And instead of indulging in the thing I gave up, I have the opportunity to turn to God in prayer and meditation. Not out of denying myself pleasure, but in search of something new.

Because new is what we’ll find on Easter morning. Sure, we may be dust, and our bodies may one day return to dust. But Jesus gives us the promise of a full life in between the beginning and the end. He invites us to a journey. A journey of repentance. A journey of remembrance. A journey of discovering who we are created to me.

Will you join me on this journey?

Photo credit.

This post was originally published at Bibledude.net.

On Being Deeply Rooted

I am one of those people that is deeply grateful for the season of Lent. It comes at just the right time every year … when I’m feeling over the cold winter months and ready for the light and warmth of Spring. It is a time for reflection. For mindfulness. For purpose. And in these final months of winter, I’m in desperate need of all of these things.

Ash Wednesday is two days away, but I’m already getting a start on my Lenten journey. A friend introduced me to this book yesterday and I knew, just from reading the sample, that it is exactly what I need in this season of my life. The Introduction brought me to tears within the first few pages.

This happens to us all at some point. A crisis hits like a storm. Divorce. Death. Loss. Our stories differ, but the fallout is the same: we lose sight of who we are.

We become unrecognizable. And so we struggle to regain our footing, to find our place, to feel secure in who we are.

But no matter how we grab for a sense of significance, it remains out of reach. We’re not sure who we are anymore, and we haven’t a clue where to find the answer.

Sound familiar? What was the last crisis in your life?

Nine years ago, I lost my job as an attorney. I can remember the moment my boss let me go as if it was yesterday. “You’re doing great work, but I just can’t afford to pay you any longer.” I had a wonderful relationship with her, and she will always have a very special place in my heart. Between sobs in her office, as she was calling to get me set up for unemployment compensation, I replied, “I think you just answered a prayer. I think God has been trying to tell me something, and I wasn’t listening. And I think you just provided a big ole’ smack on the head.”

And then, just a few months later, I left my first marriage. Although I knew it was absolutely the right decision, not only for me, but for my ex-husband as well, it was one of the hardest decisions I ever made. Not because of the loss, because if I’m really honest, being out felt more like a huge gain than anything else. But because of the shame. I was only 27 years old, and already I had a big fat “Divorce” next to my name. How would anyone ever trust me again? How would I ever come back from that moment to live a full life?

One of the best things that came from those crises was that I spent intentional time in Bible reading, prayer, and writing. I would sit on my small twin bed in my tiny apartment and read, and write, and cry. I would call out for God to hold me and make his presence known. For the first time in my life, although I was deeply alone, I never felt lonely.

That was the biggest crisis of my life. And yet it was the time when I felt the most rooted in my faith.

Fast forward 8 years. I was feeling wonderfully secure. I had a house that I loved. A one-of-a-kind neighborhood where I always dreamed of living, but never expected that I actually would. I had a community of neighbors and friends that truly taught me how to be a parent. I learned so much there. How to be a neighbor. How to care for people. How to parent simply. How to live purposefully. How to eat (and cook) real food. I never dreamed I would leave.

And then we did. We sold our house, we packed up our things, and we moved over 1000 miles away. We did it because D got a job offer we couldn’t refuse. We did it because Massachusetts is, in so many ways, such a better place to raise children. We did it because we knew it was the right thing for us as a family.

But man … did it shake my world. I realized, when I read this passage yesterday, that this was my most recent crisis. My identity was wrapped up in Grant Park. I was a parent. A wife. A neighbor. I was a friend. A cook. A provider. A creator. And since that moment when we last drove away from that dear beloved house … I am just not sure who I am anymore. I have become unrecognizable. I have struggled to regain my footing. To find my place. To feel secure in who I am.

So this Lent, I’m digging deep to find my roots. I’m going to use this gift of a season to really become rooted once again. I’m going to be intentional about reading, praying, and writing. I’m sure there will be a lot of crying. Maybe even some weeping. But I know, at the end of this journey, I’ll look back and say “That was one of the most formative times in my life.”