Closing a chapter

During the months of uncertainty...knowing we were going to move to Mobile, but having no idea when or how...I would often look around our house and imagine packing my things into boxes and loading a U-Haul. As I studied all of our books and knick knacks, imagined the mountains of clothes hanging in our closet, and the comical volume of kitchen paraphernalia I quickly became overwhelmed at the thought. As a result, I pretended like it didn't really have to be done, so I packed nothing...not one box in preparation for our impending move. When sweet Jesus swept in to show us what He had been working on during these months, part of His icing was full relocation...including movers...a gift I do not underestimate or take for granted!

Last Wednesday we made the trip back to Knoxville in preparation for the big move...the day we had been waiting for for almost eight months. When we pulled into our old neighborhood, Toby and I had very different reactions. Toby was instantly homesick and would have relocated the entire neighborhood to Mobile given the chance. He loved that house and community. I really loved our house too, but somehow it felt really strange being back there again...almost like I didn't belong, like I was just visiting. My heart broke when we pulled into the driveway and I heard Haley's sweet voice from the backseat..."home...home." We tried to explain that this was our old home now and that we were going to take our things to the "new house." She didn't seem to understand. As we walked into the house she ran straight for her toys in the living room. They were just where we had left them...where they had always been. Her Ariel doll, teddy bear and rabbit were even still sitting in their toddler seats around her little table. She was so excited to see all of her familiar things, and this confirmed to me just how unsettled she's been these last few weeks. For a two year old, she's handled this move remarkably well, but I recognize there's only so much she can comprehend.

Next we went upstairs and she again made a beeline for her bedroom. It was as if she were being reunited with long, lost friends. She was talking to her stuffed animals, filling them in on all they had missed in the last six weeks. She showed us almost all of her toys, as if we had forgotten what they looked like since we'd been gone. As we left that night to stay with a friend, a part of me was heartbroken to pull her from the house. This would be the last time she would see her baby room like she remembered it...

The movers arrived bright and early Thursday morning. They had driven up from Mobile, and were two of the greatest guys to work with. They were very professional, hard working and efficient. Sweet Jesus even gave Toby several opportunities to share our story and encourage them in their own walk with Him. For insurance reasons, we were not allowed to pack anything...shucks! But we were required to be on the property at all times to oversee the crew.

Toby was wonderful to manage the movers (aka sit on the back porch and read) while I went off gallivanting with my friends. I was thrilled to get to see some of my Boothmakers for a treat of a breakfast at MiMi's Cafe and we made homemade cinnamon rolls in the afternoon. On a side note, I LOVE to bake, but I had never baked any bread treat from scratch like this before, so this was so much fun for me...and a welcome distraction. Thanks to the Pioneer Woman and her blog, these turned out excellent! I can't wait to try them again with a new twist sometime soon.
On Friday I left Haley with a friend and stopped by the house to see how things were going with loading the truck. When I arrived the downstairs was nearly cleared out. Only my window treatments remained as evidence of our time here. As I went upstairs and walked from room to room, taking in the sight of all my belongings packed away in cardboard boxes, I stopped dead in my tracks when I got to Haley's room. A sudden panic came over me as I realized her baby room was gone! I made my way to her rocking chair and allowed myself to relive the past two years...endless hours in this very rocker nursing my tiny baby, her sweet baby pink and white striped walls, her pink name on the wall above her crib, the place where I had changed countless diapers as I listened to her coo. I saw her trying her first bite of rice cereal and taking her first steps across the living room floor. I saw her swinging in her baby swing outside and gaining confidence to go down the slide by herself. It hit me like a ton of bricks that my baby is not a baby anymore. She's two now and learning and doing mountains of new things every day.

It occurred to me that this is a totally natural and normal response...grieving the passing of a child's season. I've been told a million times how fast they grow up. But a piece of me was sad that we don't get to gently transition into the next season. I feel like this move has put a hard and fast wall between baby and big girl and I allowed myself time to grieve the end of that season. I know we will have more babies...God has promised me that, but there's something special about doing it for the first time. All of the uncertainties in being a new mom and discovering all the wonderful things about my new, tiny baby and transitioning into a parent. I will always treasure the two years we lived in Tennessee...for tons of reasons, including my sweet Haley's baby years. (And goodness knows we have plenty of pictures to help me relive it whenever I want!)

As I drove away from our house, for the very last time, it felt as if the door had finally closed. We have known for nearly eight months now that this day was coming and now it was here. My sweet Jesus let me drive away with a supernatural peace...a peace that we had accomplished what we came for in Tennessee...to know Him better and to build friendships that will last a lifetime. Now it was finally time to say goodbye and march into the next season with the greatest confidence that He will guide our steps there too.

Goodbye to our wonderful home in Tennessee...we will always treasure our memories here!

Cookie house #5 and bonus cookies

As I've mentioned, months before we left Tennessee, God specifically pointed out 5 houses in my mind that are on our street. I was suppose to knock on their doors and start building relationships. Armed with the scripture that was repeatedly given to me before we moved, "Be strong and courageous," (Joshua 1:6) I started knocking on doors...armed with chocolate chip cookies. The first four houses went well, but I had tried house #5 twice to no avail. This weekend we were finally able to catch her. The mom and youngest daughter were setting up camp in the front yard, preparing to paint a new piece of furniture. This family has two young girls and have lived in Mobile County most of their lives. They were friendly and offered the details on the families surrounding them. She also shared a little history about our house...we have not received a very favorable picture of the previous owners, but as I've said many times...God has redeemed this property and is now using it for His glory!

Our first failed attempt to meet house #5 resulted in meeting the kids belonging to the house across the street. They were playing the back yard and Toby yelled, "you guys want some cookies?" They came running out, but quickly replied, "we don't have any money." This statement made me sad...to think someone offering a free gift is such a foreign concept. We chatted with those boys for a while and I have been able to cross paths with them a few times since our introduction. The rumor around here is that these boys are responsible for some mischief in the neighborhood, possibly including throwing a brick through one of our windows earlier this summer. If they are responsible, I'm hopeful that our presence and interest in them will help to deter their mischievous behavior, and maybe we could even build a relationship and encourage them to find more productive things to do with their free time.

On Friday I tried to meet house #5 for the second time, but again they were not home. Their neighbor was having a yard sale and I had another plate of cookies in my hand, so we headed next door to meet a bonus neighbor. This young girl's grandmother has owned the house for many years, and she's grown up in this neighborhood. She had just moved back into the house a few weeks ago as her first place on her own. She was very sweet and a joy to chat with. As with the rest of our neighbors, she had a story about our house...as a child her sister was friends with a boy who lived here. His grandmother was handicapped and they did some work on the house to make it handicap accessible. Ah, this explains the crazy bathroom and shower handlebars.

In the past few days I've pondered God's command to "possess the land." To think that this house has been here for 30 years and has likely seen countless families come and go. I'm sure these walls have some intriguing stories. Each of the families have carried away their own memories as they lived here for a season of their lives. Now it's our turn. Just as the Israelites were to push out the seven nations from the promised land and possess it for the God of Israel, we are to possess this house and devote it to His kingdom. My prayer remains for all who enter this place to feel His presence and to be drawn closer to Him.

We are thrilled to get our furniture from Tennessee this week and once we get settled, we plan to start inviting these neighbors for dinner. At the end of October we are planning a neighborhood wide cookout. You know I'll keep you posted!

Jesus with skin on

This weekend we were in the thick of potty training with Haley and Toby offered to stay home with her so I could go to church. After being closed up in the house with her for three days straight he figured the time away with Jesus would do me good...boy, was he right! (We've since abandoned the potty training, given the chaos our life is currently in, but that's another story in itself.)

On Saturday I received an email from a friend in Tennessee about a revival happening here in Mobile. Strange, I'm really out of touch with the happenings of my own city, but I checked out the website anyway and saw that the revival and their Sunday service was held at the Convention Center. So Sunday morning I got ready to go and was thinking, it's probably going to be cold in there because those places are always cold, but I don't have anything warm to wear. When we left Tennessee five weeks ago, we thought we would be back in ten days to get the rest of our belongings so I only packed summer clothes in preparation for the 99 degree weather Mobile offers. I have this great, black hoodie sweater that zips...it's my favorite and I layer it over everything. It too was still in Tennessee, but I thought, if I had that sweater, that would be perfect for today.

So I arrived at the Convention Center about a half hour early and as I waited for an elevator from the parking deck to the arena, I made small talk with some other early birds. When I mentioned that this was my first time visiting this church, one lady got all excited and came over to me to give me a huge hug. And it was a real hug too...not one of those "polite, I don't really want to touch you but I feel obligated" hugs...it was a good squeeze. And then her husband came over for a hug. Their over the top welcome caught me off guard, but it felt good. Once inside I asked this friendly lady about childcare and she directed me to one of the ushers. After I had discussed it with him, I turned to see her waiting for me. Then we chatted for a bit and she made sure I found what I needed. Isn't this how Christians are suppose to act? Full of Jesus' abundant love for everyone He puts in our path? So why was I so taken aback by this welcome and genuine interest in me?

The arena was divided into a front and back section and I chose to sit in the back so I could have an isle seat. (I have a big wingspan and often take more than my designated chair space during worship.) An usher quickly asked me to fill the front section first and I reluctantly obliged and found a seat kind of close to an isle with several empty seats on either side...in the front section. Soon after worship began a group of ladies came and asked if they could sit in the empty seats on my row. When I told them the seats were free, they sat right next to me, even though there were still several seats empty on the other side of their group. Am I the only one that feels the need for a little space sometimes?

Ok, so I know this is a lot of detail. But hey, I am a woman, and hang with me...these details are important.

So worship was wonderful and full of His sweet spirit. His presence was beautiful, thick and refreshing. The preaching was great, although fairly lengthy. As I predicted, about 3/4 of the way through the service I found myself freezing...I was so cold I could barely concentrate, but I pushed it aside and forced myself to focus. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with this sweet body of believers, but the purpose for my being at this place at this time, was just around the corner. At the conclusion of the service, the pastor said, "We haven't done this in a really long time, but I feel led to do this today. Turn to the person next to you and pray for them." Specifically he asked us to pray for the three points he focused on in his sermon. Since there was nobody to my immediate left, I turned to the little lady to my right...the one sitting right next to me.

She was older, maybe early 60s, and quite a bit shorter than me. I learned later that her name is Leigh. At some point we held hands, even though I don't remember who initiated that or when it happened. Because there were hundreds of other people praying aloud in this arena, I bent down to her ear so she could hear me as I prayed for her...following the three points as we were instructed. Then came that awkward moment of, um...so...are you going to pray for me now? In an effort to bridge the awkwardness, I said, "I really like your sweater." I've found that compliments are always good conversation starters. She said "thank you" and then seemed to dismiss it as she began to pray for me. I bent down so I could hear her and the words that flew out of her mouth with confidence and conviction did not follow the three points we were assigned...she prayed bold things like, "The Lord has given you a vision, a dream...He is opening doors for you...He is putting people in your path and wants you to building relationships with them..." Just as God gave me the cookies for the 5 houses in my neighborhood, I feel like God gave me a vision last week of my next assignment. All during this woman's prayer I had flashes of this vision. When she finished, I was so stunned at how these words hit me square in the face that I was speechless for a second. As I stared at her, she began to take off her sweater, handed it to me, and said, "Jesus told me to give you my sweater." Again...shock...and tears! Normally, when someone offers you a gift like this, we're raised to respond with the "Oh no...that's very sweet...but I couldn't...thank you for offering..." But this, this was somehow different. I knew in my gut that this was Jesus and when Jesus hands you something like that, you just take it, say thank you, and treasure it. So I did. I began to cry harder as I looked at it. It was identical to my favorite black sweater (only this one is green) that I left in Tennessee...the one I would have worn that day if I had brought it to Alabama. Through my tears I told Leigh that we had just moved to Mobile and I didn't have many warm clothes with me. With the kindest voice, she said, "Jesus knew that."

As I'm weeping, Leigh starts digging through her purse saying, "I have a tissue for you"...dig, dig, dig..."here it is." I'm, of course, expecting a kleenex, but she hands me a cloth, hand embroidered hankie and says, "here you go, you can have it." Again, all I could muster was "thank you." Since most others around were still deep in prayer, I decided it would be more natural to chat than sit next to each other in awkward silence while we waited. Assuming she was a church member, I asked, "How long have you been going here?" Leigh quickly corrected me, "Oh, we're going home today. We were just here for the revival." "Oh, where are you from" ...."Knoxville, Tennessee." What? Seriously? What are the odds? After hearing about this church for the first time only 24 hours earlier, being moved from the back section to the front, having this stranger sit right on top of me, and the pastor asking us to pray for our neighbor for the first time in a long time, and...she's from Knoxville? The very same place I moved from just five weeks ago! Again, I'm speechless. The past five minutes have held too many amazing occurrences for this to be anything other than a beautiful, divine appointment for my Jesus to remind me of His nearness! He put me and Leigh in those seats yesterday morning for a specific purpose. There was no accident there. My Jesus had things to tell me and He knew that Leigh has an attentive ear to His voice and she would be faithful and obedient to relay His message for me. Don't you see? Nothing is by accident! Every single person and situation that crosses my path goes through a God filter first...He is soooo in control!

Given this amazing connection with this woman, I began to share details of my life with this stranger. Strange how the spirit works that way...making us feel so comfortable, like I've known them forever? I friend told me once, "Spirit recognized Spirit." Now I fully understand what she meant. So I tell Leigh about this vision I've had, something I've only shared with Toby and the other person involved, and she looks at me and says, "That's wonderful! All of those things I prayed for you...they were from the Lord. He wanted you to know that. You will prosper in this, because of your obedience. This thing will prosper." Leigh is one of those people that is oozing with the Holy Spirit and I just want to sit next to her for hours and just listen to her talk...knowing that the words coming out of her mouth are straight from the throne of grace, intended only for my heart. I hope you've met one of those people. They are such a gift. Anyway, as I was leaving she said one more encouraging thing, "You are so pretty. On the outside, but on this inside too. I can see it in your eyes...so pretty...so pretty...so pretty." Her voice was like honey and I resisted the urge to beg for more sweet words from my Jesus out of fear that would be awkward. But looking back now, I wish I had.

I said goodbye and walked away, knowing full well I'll likely never see her again, but I will carry her with me in my heart forever. Never have I met a stranger so full of Jesus' love in my life. For her to literally give me the sweater off her back, without hesitating or thinking twice. It was truly a privilege for her to give it to me. Jesus, thank you for this encounter with you. Please bless Leigh beyond measure for her obedience to You, and please help me to be more like her so that others will see You in me in every conversation You put before me.

Haley's first beach trip

Growing up in Alabama, trips to the gulf coast were regular and expected every summer. The beautiful, white sandy beaches on Florida's panhandle are incomparable to anywhere else in the world...or so I'm told. Since we moved from Alabama when Haley was nine weeks old, beach trips got left behind in the move to Tennessee. Making a nine hour trip with a one year old just didn't seem that appealing. So, a bonus with moving back to south Alabama was taking Haley to the beach for the first time this Labor Day.

I should probably preface this experience with, "Carey is not a huge beach fan." Sure the beach is beautiful to look at and while I love playing in the water, I much prefer fresh water over salt. In addition to the sticky sand, salty water and biting critters, I think my aversion to the beach started when I was little...I must have been six or seven. Our family was walking on the beach in a big group and out of nowhere a seagull pooped on my head!! I was horrified, panicked and threw the biggest fit. Needless to say, I did not return to the sandy beaches the rest of the trip. I remember my sweet grandmother hanging back with me at the pool for hours on end when the rest of the family went down to play in the sand and the waves. Side note...my grandmother adores the beach, and this is the first time I've recognized what a great sacrifice that was for her...note to self, I need to say "thank you!"

Anyway, all this to say, Toby and I much prefer the lake over the beach, but given this was Haley's first experience we felt it was our responsible parental duty to "do the beach" properly. So on Saturday we trotted out toward the ocean...buckets, shovels and beach chairs in hand. Being moderately OCD about messes on her hands, I was apprehensive as to how this adventure would turn out. But we put on the happy, "isn't this the greatest thing ever?" face in hopes that she would have fun. At first she wasn't quite impressed and didn't understand all the messy sand. Then she warmed up to the "scoop and dump" idea...that was intriguing. Eventually she got okay with it and thought it was pretty neat...as long as she could sit on me.

I must say that my sweet Jesus gave us the most beautiful weekend to introduce Haley to this creation! The weather was perfect...beautiful, clear blue skies with a nice breeze and the water was clearer than I can ever remember. By the end of the weekend, we had all played in the sand, made sandcastles, a swam in the ocean. And truth be told, I actually had fun!! The sand wasn't so bad, the seaweed was not around, and I got pretty good at making sand turtles.

My favorite part of the weekend was watching Toby and Haley swimming in the ocean. We repeatedly told her to close her mouth as the waves came by, but each time she closed her eyes tight and opened her mouth as wide as she could. It was so cute and she lucked out that she never got a face full of salt water. As I sat in my beach chair watching my family swim and explore this new thing for the first time, I saw a mom and her two teenage daughters walk past, casually talking about life. It occurred to me that it won't be long until I'm in that boat...talking to Haley about boys and high school. So I spent the next 15 minutes locked in on my toddler...treasuring each moment of discovery. This is the greatest gift of being a mommy...introducing my baby girl to Jesus and this beautiful world that God made for us...showing her His creation and pointing every wonderful thing back to Him.

So here's to another step out of my comfort zone. It was a wonderful weekend that I will treasure always.

Haley showing me the "mess" of sand on her feet.

Totally trusting her daddy as he tosses her in the air.

Possess the land

"See, the Lord your God has placed the land before you; go up, take possession, as the Lord, the God of your fathers, has spoken to you. Do not fear or be dismayed." Deuteronomy 1:21

possession - to occupy (be driving out previous tenants and possessing in their place); by implication to seize; to rob, to inherit, also to expel

I have spent the last year in the Pentateuch with my Boothmakers and we have been studying the life of Moses and the journey of the nation of Israel. While my tiny house in Saraland, Alabama is no promised land, we have been commanded to take possession of it. When God called the Israelites to take the Promised Land, He did not ask them to merely live there and inhabit it for a while. He wanted them to take it away from the enemy's control, to redeem it and use it for His glory! The last few weeks have felt this way for me with our little house. While we do have a roof over our heads and all the other basic necessities, this house is meant to be more than a place to endure for a few years until something new comes along. Our command here is to possess it! We are to be offensive in seizing this property, sending out the enemy and taking it from his control. We are to redeem it and make it a holy place for the Spirit to freely dwell.

On the surface level, this has been a fairly difficult task, seeing as nearly all of our belongings are still in another state. For you wives out there, I know you understand. There is a nesting instinct that God gives us to make our homes a haven for our families. My sweet Jesus has seen my nesting struggle with only an air mattress and card table to work with and has sent me off on a new project this week...decorating Haley's room. Strangely, because she got a "big girl bed" when we moved, she has more furniture at the moment than the rest of the house. This past weekend I worked with my mom to pick out fabric for curtains and brainstorm some other ideas. Yesterday I painted the letters of her name for her wall and today I painted circles on the walls to match a fabric we picked out. Now, for those of you who don't know me...I'm an accountant, not an artist. In fact, I have always considered myself in serious lack of creativity and artistic ability. Even if I were to come up with some fun idea, I wouldn't have the artsy instincts to pull it off, it would look ridiculous. This being said, God gave me a Bezalel day today! (Again, from the world of Moses...Bezalel was given supernatural ability to envision and construct the holy objects for the tabernacle in the wilderness...cool story, check it out...Exodus 35:30-35) Knowing that I do not possess the artistic ability to paint, my Jesus gave me the creativity to envision and ability to execute some really cute circles on the walls of my baby girl's bedroom. I know this may seem silly, but it has done wonders in making this house our possession. I can start to envision our lives progressing here...Haley growing up, bringing home a new baby, learning about ministry, and sharing my Jesus with my neighbors. It is these visions that are making this house my possession. We have taken it back from Satan's control and are turning it into a home and a dwelling place for the Holy Spirit.

Operation Cookie Dropoff - Phase 4
So, months ago my Jesus gave me 5 houses on our street that I am suppose to initiate relationships with. Tonight I delivered cookies to house number 4. The husband was home, but I didn't meet the wife. Their front lawn boasts scripture and University of Alabama paraphernalia. The scripture got me excited and I decided to excuse the UA stuff. (For those of you outside the state borders, the Alabama/Auburn rivalry is intense and all state residents are required to pick a side...we happen to be loyal Auburn fans.) This gentleman was very nice and seemed genuinely interested in our story. He shared openly about his love for the Lord and I am looking forward to getting to know this family better. Like every other neighbor we've met, he had a few stories about the previous owners of our house, none of which cast them in a nice light. Just another reminder that Satan no longer has authority over this property and that we are on the offensive to take the rest of this neighborhood back for Jesus!

Now, let me tell you how smart my Jesus is...five houses, right? The two on either side of us, the one directly across the street, one two houses down on the corner and the last is on the corner of the next street on the other side. I didn't think much of this until we moved in, but there is a house between the one across the street and the one I visited tonight. I wondered why I wasn't suppose to go there, and figured I'd "pick it up" after I finished my specific five. I didn't want to leave anybody out and that seems odd given that it's in the middle of the others. Well, come to find out...the guy that owns the house on the corner that I met tonight, also owns the one next to him...the one not on my list. His sister-in-law used to live there, but as of February of this year, that house is vacant! Haha!! No wonder Jesus left that one off my list! Sheesh! When will I learn to follow directions? He is so in control and so has a plan. I'm curious about the last house on my list and will be anxious to share it with you next week. Until then, keep chasing after Him...He's all good!