To our new church family: I want to remember

It’s been two weeks since we boxed up our world, loaded it onto a truck, and left behind city life for corn fields, cows and a country church. Before we get settled, before the boxes are unpacked and we forget the challenges of transplanting our lives, I wanted to make a list of things to remember from this week. I want to remember:

• How you unloaded the truck like an army of marching ants.
• How you scooped up my baby girl and watched her while I attempted to direct the ant-traffic
• How you quickly assembled beds, placed furniture and emptied boxes
• How you quietly slipped in the house after the army had gone to ask if we wanted help or to be left alone
• How you graciously handed us an envelope with a little money and a gift card to treat the family after a big day
• How the house was clean and stocked with a few necessities
• How you stopped by late after work to ask if we needed anything
• How you dropped by say “Welcome” with a fresh apple pie, fresh tomatoes, and a watermelon

You have been more kind that we ever would have imagined.

It’s important to mark what I want to remember because a day will come when I will forget. I will forget after a difficult business meeting, or a poorly chosen word, or a week of too much time away from my husband. There will be misunderstandings and unmet expectations. Committees, challenges and changes will stretch us both. You will say, “We’ve never done it that way before.” I will wonder why that matters.

When nerves wear thin, emotions run high, and I ask God what on earth he’s doing with all of us here, I want to remember these past few days and celebrate all that you have done.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
(Philippians 4:8 ESV)