This post is day 31. New to the series? Start here. And if you want hundreds of other great 31 Days topics, you can find them here.

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Here we are at the end of October. A friend of mine told me I forgot to blog yesterday, and I didn’t even realize it. My sister, Husband and I were watching the season finale of Masterchef Australia, which is officially the best TV show in the whole entire world. Apparently I completely forgot to write for day 30, or maybe I’m running out of things to say about transition? I don’t think so, but life in yet another new country, one where we have to work on a visa, and look for a place to live and a car to drive, is proving to be a handful and a mind-full.

I’m going to keep this conclusion short and sweet. Thank you so much for reading along this month. October for the past few years has been all about blogging daily, and it’s been a space for me to work out my process. I always appreciate anyone who listens along and adds their own thoughts, and you’ve done that for me.

I have a feeling I’ll be writing about transition for many more days to come in the next months, so I’m sure you will see more Falling Forward posts in the future.

In the mean time, I want to leave you with two 31 Days series that have blessed my heart immensely.

Leslie of Scraping Raisins has been writing 31 Days of Re-entry, it is the perfect companion series to the one I’ve been writing on transition. Reading Leslie’s words has been like reading my own mind as I’ve gone through re-entry in the past (and now).

Shelly Miller has been writing 31 Letters from London, it’s her unfiltered thoughts about living as a foreigner in London and the ways God has met her there. Day after day I read her words, and it was like God’s words to me. This series has been the perfect devotional companion for me during my own transition.

Hopefully I’ll be able to keep writing in the weeks to come. My plan is to blog on Monday and Friday every week, so that’s when you can expect posts in your mailbox if you are a subscriber, and if you aren’t, check in here on those days.

Have a lovely weekend, my friends. Wherever you are and whatever you are facing, may you experience the deep peace of knowing you are in the presence of Jesus.

This post is day 29. New to the series? Start here. Thanks to all of you who have shared these posts and commented, I so appreciate it. Do say hello if you’ve been reading or are new. It would be lovely to meet you. And if you want hundreds of other great 31 Days topics, you can find them here.

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I wrote these words in my last week in Germany as I wrestled with our In Between-ness. The circumstances are different today, a week after we moved to Australia, but the sentiments are still the same.

I pause in the morning, and I write down what I know is true, I write down what I see.

We get to stay with Mama, she cooks for us, cleans for us and does our laundry. Thank you, God.

I get to spend more time with Husband’s friends whom I love, I get to have a community and family in Frankfurt, thank you God.

The sun has been shining, and it is so beautiful. Thank you, God.

Husband gets time with our boys that he’s never had before. They love it and adore him. Thank you, God.

They are speaking German more and more, and so am I, with increasing confidence and skill. Thank you, God.

We fly today to Australia, this day is finally here. Thank you, God. 

Open wider, oh eyes. Can you see his goodness here in the In Between? Can you feel the tender touch of grace that is always there even when pain says, it is only I here.

I can feel my spirit lighten.

Gratitude is my guide through the In Between, it is the gentle teacher that leads me truthfully in a pathway of peace. Worry, fear and doubt try to steal my attention and my joy, but thanksgiving is my bed of rest and beauty.

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This post is day 28. New to the series? Start here. Thanks to all of you who have shared these posts and commented, I so appreciate it. Do say hello if you’ve been reading or are new. It would be lovely to meet you. If you want hundreds of other great 31 Days topics, you can find them here.

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play time

I was lamenting to my mother about some of the painful and difficult behavior we witnessed daily with our boys. Both Husband and I regularly felt drained and at a loss about what to do. My mother, who is a therapist, suggested play therapy for both of them, and just to clarify, she did not mean that we should take them to a therapist. She meant that we could apply basic play therapy techniques at home.

Once again, it is necessary for me to say here that I am not a qualified counselor or anything close to that, so these are the thoughts of a mom sharing with you what is and what is not working with my kids.

Husband and I structured our mornings so that after breakfast, teeth brushing and clothes-changing, we took one child each and spent an hour of focused play time with him. We set aside 8:30-9:30am for this. Most of the time, it is one-on-one, focused play time, but three times a week, I try to have more of a play therapy type approach to our time.

We stay in a confined space like the living room or a bedroom or outside, and there are a few toys that I have set up. Then I let my sons play with whatever they wanted, not intervening at all, just letting them direct their own play time. I only observed and made comments like, You put the axe in the fireman’s hand, the hook is pulling the police car, etc.

There are no quick fixes for any parenting issue, and certainly there is absolutely no quick fix for the slow, deep work of character development in our children, but the hour I spent with my sons individually produced incredible fruit in our relationship. Play time reveals something much deeper to me about my children, and it gives them a safe place to work out their own emotions.

It slows down the morning chaos. We found that the time between wake up and post-breakfast was often the most drama-and-tension-filled for the four of us, and it helped to separate our kids, it helped slow Husband and myself down. Play time with a child is slow, pure work. There isn’t an agenda, it is simply time spent with my child to give him my full, undivided attention as he does the work of a child: play, play, play.

They were immediately aware that they were getting quality one-on-one time with us, and they relished this. They felt seen, known and loved. In a time when we are focused on many, many other things (that we have to focus on), they are easily overlooked, but this hour was about them, their interests, their needs, their wants, they thrived in this place. 

There was no reason to tell them no in this hour. They were only playing, and so far I haven’t seen a way for them to defy or disobey us in this time. They loved being able to do whatever they want, I loved being able to say yes as much as I could. It helped me let go of control and let my boys just be.

They opened up and talked while they played about things they didn’t normally talk about. One morning while he was playing with the fire truck, Big Boy started talking about how he missed Stockholm, the yellow house and the rocks in our driveway. He climbed in my lap, I miss my toys, Mommy, the ones that are on the ship to Australia, he seemed genuinely sad about this but also happy to be able to share his feelings. It gave me valuable insight into his heart in this time, it deeply bothers him not to have his toys.  It explains frustrating moments of defiance related to sharing toys with other kids and his brother, and while it never justifies it, I need this insight into his heart. It helps me parent him better, it helps me pray, it helps me empathize.

It helped me to pay closer attention to the non-play times because let’s face it, what is going on in my kids’ heart isn’t necessarily number one on my priority list when I am trying to get things done. A few weeks after we left Sweden, Big Boy was playing and told me he was packing and to tell him when it’s Saturday because he would have to load the container then. Oh, I said, playing along, and where is the container going?

To Stockholm, he said, without missing a beat.

A tiny role play, but it said something about his heart. I want to go back to Stockholm, that’s what he was trying to tell me. Another evening, after a day of pretending to be a bird making a nest, he and I were going to his bedroom to make a nest for him to sleep in for the night. He was changing his clothes when he said, I miss my nest in Stockholm, so I pulled him into my arms, and we talked about his Thomas the Tank Engine duvet cover, his white bed, and all the things about his nest in Stockholm that he missed. We talked about Jesus, how he left his nest in heaven to live on earth, and how he must have felt sad, too. We talked about sadness, why it is good to feel sad. And we talked about how thankful we are that we have a nest in Germany.

Husband and I had the luxury of time because neither of us were working, but if you find that you don’t have the ability to divide up your kids because of time or because you have more kids, find creative ways to get alone time with your children. Swap kids with another parent in your community, take one of our kids out in the evening when your spouse is home, use one child’s naptime to have focused play time with another child, put a movie on for a few of your kids and take one outside to play, and if you have other creative ideas about how to spend one-on-one time with your kids, please do share it in the comments section.

I’m linking up with The Grove, part of the Velvet Ashes community today. 

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 Velvet Ashes: encouragement for women serving overseas

This post is day 27. New to the series? Start here. Thanks to all of you who have shared these posts and commented, I so appreciate it. Do say hello if you’ve been reading or are new. It would be lovely to meet you. If you want hundreds of other great 31 Days topics, you can find them here.

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This is the thing about our transition, I lose my perspective so easily.

Just this past weekend I felt discouraged. Why are we in Melbourne? When is our life going to get started? How much longer can I survive with two pairs of jeans? What’s the deal with all my first-world problems? These are the questions of  the In Between, the space when there are no real answers, only lots and lots of questions. This is the bridge between the past and the future, it is shaky, rickety and narrow, and I am crossing over a ravine with rocks and raging rapids.

It feels like any decision made too quickly or incorrectly is going to send me hurtling off the edge.

A bit dramatic, no? I suppose these are the delusional feelings of a mother who traveled half-way around the world on Wednesday and Thursday only to have her kids wake up to party from midnight to 4am on Friday night, only to then have gastro hit an entire household on Saturday evening. I suppose no one is thinking rationally after they’ve cared for a puking child only to then be sick herself half a day later. But it’s true. This is what I felt on Sunday. Why are we here? Nothing is getting done. We have so much to do. 

But then it was Monday, and I photocopied official documents, went to the Police Department for certification and then to Medicare, and in a few hours my kids and I have healthcare again. Just like that. And then I heard my sister say that we had been in the country for four days.

Four days. Really? I wondered because it felt like an eternity or nothingness and discouragement and illness.

But it wasn’t.

When you see life through the wrong perspective, everything, absolutely everything, will seem like it is against you. 

Because here is the truth. In four days we opened a bank account, struggled with jet lag, nursed a sick child and our own sick selves and sorted out health care for our entire family. Nevermind the cooking, cleaning, clothing, laundry and the everyday care for adults and children. We didn’t do any of this alone, we have help because we have family here, amazing family and friends. And underneath all of this are the everlasting arms that carry us home, the hands of God who doesn’t always take away the problem (even when I begged every hour from midnight to 4am), but somehow gives grace to get through and promises and delivers his presence. This grace looks like my sister who cooks and cares for my boys, and this grace also looks like a virus running its course and leaving. Sometimes grace is just surviving a night and knowing that now it is day. Only 12 more hours before bedtime.

Life is moving forward, and life is good even when it is hard. This is the truth. And it is encouragement, it is joy, it is hope.

Now it’s your turn: Whatever stage of transition you are in right now, if you are discouraged, please take a moment and write down what it is that is true. What have you missed in your own story? How is grace holding you up even when it seems like there is pain or when things are not going the way you want it to?

transition

This post is day 26. New to the series? Start here. Thanks to all of you who have shared these posts and commented, I so appreciate it. Do say hello if you’ve been reading or are new. It would be lovely to meet you. If you want hundreds of other great 31 Days topics, you can find them here.
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firetruck 2
We stayed in Frankfurt, Germany, which is Husband’s home town, after we left Sweden. Our boys slept in his old room, played with his more-than-30-year-old firetruck, and we went to his home church. One Sunday there was a youth pastor from Australia preaching, and he talked about how Jacob wrestled with God. He said, We want God to snap his fingers and make our problems go away, but sometimes God wants to draw us into a wrestle.

And I could see God holding out his hands and asking me, Can we fight this one out?

I’m tired, friends. It’s been almost eight weeks since we drove away from Sweden, I miss my friends, my home, the swaying birches, the place and people who meant so much. Grief wears me out, and this is normal, but I want a break. Our to-do lists are still long as we navigate these first days in Melbourne, and we wrestle with our kids as we work through these things. They are hurting, too. And jet lagged. And then we went down with gastro 48 hours after arriving. Staying up with a puking child is not what I had in mind for my second night in Australia (Husband did most of the staying up though, in fairness).

There is this place in the transition when time slows down, and it will seem like nothing is happening. The movers took all your things away, there is nothing left to do in the house, you move to your in-laws, you’re in the new city, but you haven’t found a house or a job, and there is this space when you and the ones you love are waiting, waiting, waiting. It is full of questions: What will our lives look like? What will we do if it takes longer than expected to find work? What are we expecting? Where should we live? But there are rarely any answers.

You’ve left one thing behind but have not yet arrived at the next thing. I call it The In Between.

And I can tell you that for me, it is the hardest place of all. It is where my anger bubbles up. This is the time when I am most dissatisfied with my life. I meet my fears about the future here, and they knock me out. The In Between is where I cannot see clearly, I can’t remember why I left the safety of the past, I have yet to lay hold of the promise of the future.

It’s in this place where I sit on the floor of a church in Frankfurt, Husband next to me, our Little Bear between us as he tries to cuddle his way to sleep on both our laps, and an Australian pastor says, Sometimes God wants to draw us into a wrestle. He wants us closer. He wants to change the way we walk. He wants us to leave a better legacy.

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The timing feels terrible even though the truth is real. Now, in the time when I most want a vacation or time off or a rest of some sort. Now, in this time that seems laden with grief, frought with anger, and pregnant with uncertainty. Now, his question to me, his question to you may just be, Can we fight this one out?

Can I come closer? Can I change you? Can I grow you? Can I make you stronger through this fight? Can I assure you that I am trustworthy and that your life is in kind hands?

Because this is the truth: While I may be waiting for a visa, a job, a home and countless other things, I am not waiting for God.

He is with me. Always. I can step closer and engage instead of run away. I can wrestle with God instead of hide from him. Expecting him to give me the strength I need to fight a good fight, needing faith to rise up when doubts darken my horizon, choosing to speak promises of life instead of declarations of death.

Believing that change may involve pain, but in his hands, the pain will always have a purpose. The In Between is my springboard into the future, and I don’t want to spend it hiding in fear.

Now it’s your turn: Are you in an in between time? How’s your wrestle going? 

I’m linking up with Jennifer and Holley today. 

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