JANUARY
Let me start by apologizing for leaving you hanging last year. Last I wrote we were being cast as characters in a Truman Capote novel, witnesses to the crime of the century in Kansas. That was "Leg 21."
There were other legs. We went on to tour museums in Missouri and stay at an epic campground in Illinois and sleep in the Friends United Meeting parking lot in Indiana and eventually made it to Ohio, where we slept in the RV in a short-term parking lot at the Columbus airport waiting for Randy's daughter, Danielle, to arrive to retrieve Van.
Once Van and Danielle were safely back in California, Randy and I hit the road again. We went to Toledo for hot dogs, slept in a Home Depot parking lot in Michigan, climbed sand dunes in Indiana and swam in Lake Michigan with my brother and his kids, played baseball on the Field of Dreams and attended my grandmother's memorial service in my second childhood home of Hubbard, Iowa.
We broke into the home where my grandmother was born and spent her first 60 years of life (which had not changed in the 23 years since I had been inside... even the shag carpet was the same!) and reenacted scenes from the Bridges of Madison County. We went to the Buddy Holly crash site and found Captain Kirk's birthplace, we slept in a Bass Pro Shop parking lot and then made a beeline for Ohio, where we would end up living with my parents for two months while trying to buy a home.
It turns out, living as volunteer missionaries for 18 months, followed by 4 months of traveling the country in an RV, is not a reliable source of income. But after two months the bank finally decided to take a chance on us and we closed on a one-bedroom one-bath fixer upper, that came with an adorable ready-to-move-in cottage in the backyard.
Randy got a job at the local high school where I graduated 20 years ago, and I took on writing a book. So we spent our first few months of cottage living adjusting to these new roles. Randy got a break for Christmas and my book was done, so off we went to San Felipe for the holidays. It was like coming full circle. We started and ended the year in Mexico--which, of all the places we had been in 2018, felt the most like home. Physically we had moved, but emotionally we were still "Mama Katie and Papa Randy". And yet, it was clear that Mexico had moved on without us.
When we returned to Ohio, I immediately came down with the flu. We went to bed early on New Year's Eve and this entire month I've felt unsettled. Stuck. Like having a head cold that doesn't allow you to think clearly. I'm still waiting to feel like it is 2019, like I am prepared to conquer this year like a boss. Maybe next week, when I turn 39, something will click...
I am calling this year: "Under Construction." We are remodeling our one-bedroom, one-bathroom fixer upper, but it is slow going. This is the last year of my 30s but I have no idea what my 40s will bring. I have visions of this year being one of growth and expansion--of our home, of our family, of our callings and careers and hopes and dreams. But the details remain fuzzy, still waiting for the countdown and the ball to drop signaling a new year.
God of course knows. And has since the beginning of time. So I can trust Him to reveal each new step as He determines I'm ready to receive them. These are the verses that I will hold to this year to guide me:
One of my goals this year is to write a blog on the last day of each month. A recap of our monthly renovations--both physically & spiritually. So I pray that January has been good to you, but if, like me, it hasn't felt quite right, then I pray that when we meet again on February 28, we both will have a more forward-moving report. That we will have beheld new things, that we will have not given up, that we will have begun to embrace this life "under construction."
-K.U.T.
There were other legs. We went on to tour museums in Missouri and stay at an epic campground in Illinois and sleep in the Friends United Meeting parking lot in Indiana and eventually made it to Ohio, where we slept in the RV in a short-term parking lot at the Columbus airport waiting for Randy's daughter, Danielle, to arrive to retrieve Van.
Once Van and Danielle were safely back in California, Randy and I hit the road again. We went to Toledo for hot dogs, slept in a Home Depot parking lot in Michigan, climbed sand dunes in Indiana and swam in Lake Michigan with my brother and his kids, played baseball on the Field of Dreams and attended my grandmother's memorial service in my second childhood home of Hubbard, Iowa.
We broke into the home where my grandmother was born and spent her first 60 years of life (which had not changed in the 23 years since I had been inside... even the shag carpet was the same!) and reenacted scenes from the Bridges of Madison County. We went to the Buddy Holly crash site and found Captain Kirk's birthplace, we slept in a Bass Pro Shop parking lot and then made a beeline for Ohio, where we would end up living with my parents for two months while trying to buy a home.
It turns out, living as volunteer missionaries for 18 months, followed by 4 months of traveling the country in an RV, is not a reliable source of income. But after two months the bank finally decided to take a chance on us and we closed on a one-bedroom one-bath fixer upper, that came with an adorable ready-to-move-in cottage in the backyard.
Randy got a job at the local high school where I graduated 20 years ago, and I took on writing a book. So we spent our first few months of cottage living adjusting to these new roles. Randy got a break for Christmas and my book was done, so off we went to San Felipe for the holidays. It was like coming full circle. We started and ended the year in Mexico--which, of all the places we had been in 2018, felt the most like home. Physically we had moved, but emotionally we were still "Mama Katie and Papa Randy". And yet, it was clear that Mexico had moved on without us.
When we returned to Ohio, I immediately came down with the flu. We went to bed early on New Year's Eve and this entire month I've felt unsettled. Stuck. Like having a head cold that doesn't allow you to think clearly. I'm still waiting to feel like it is 2019, like I am prepared to conquer this year like a boss. Maybe next week, when I turn 39, something will click...
I am calling this year: "Under Construction." We are remodeling our one-bedroom, one-bathroom fixer upper, but it is slow going. This is the last year of my 30s but I have no idea what my 40s will bring. I have visions of this year being one of growth and expansion--of our home, of our family, of our callings and careers and hopes and dreams. But the details remain fuzzy, still waiting for the countdown and the ball to drop signaling a new year.
God of course knows. And has since the beginning of time. So I can trust Him to reveal each new step as He determines I'm ready to receive them. These are the verses that I will hold to this year to guide me:
"Behold, I am about to do something new; even now it is coming. Do you not see it? Indeed, I will make a way in the wilderness and streams in the desert." -Isaiah 43:19
"Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come." -2 Corinthians 5:17
"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." -Galatians 6:9
One of my goals this year is to write a blog on the last day of each month. A recap of our monthly renovations--both physically & spiritually. So I pray that January has been good to you, but if, like me, it hasn't felt quite right, then I pray that when we meet again on February 28, we both will have a more forward-moving report. That we will have beheld new things, that we will have not given up, that we will have begun to embrace this life "under construction."
-K.U.T.
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