A little over three years ago, our family moved from Rhode Island to Central Vermont. A job had opened up there for my husband, and we were thrilled at the opportunity he’d have to finish graduate school while also working full-time. Yes, it would be challenging. Yes, the days may be long. But it was the right move for us. The only problem is that we had to move in the span of 3 months. This meant tying up loose-ends where we were[with holidays thrown in amidst that] and then driving to a bitterly cold Vermont right in the beginning of the new year. I’m not sure I was prepared for exactly how cold it would be. I figured my frail Southern form had adjusted to the snow in Rhode Island, so this transition wouldn’t be hard at all…right?

But then the first snow fell. And it kept falling. For an entire day. And there was mud all over the floors of my new house. Plus it was an icy tundra!And the movers hit our mailbox because of the ice. It was dark and the snow stayed for…months. As a mama of two children under the age of 4, I was shocked and also felt taken hostage. We were stuck inside indefinitely(or at least, it felt that way)!

How would they expend energy everyday? How would my introverted heart find time to be alone when my husband was in quite possibly the busiest season of his life?!

I remember joking with a friend before our transition that I felt burned out socially and could cope for our season in VT without deep relationships. That would be 3 years. In hindsight, that’s a long time. But then friendship seemed like too much of an investment. We would simply survive and focus on family time.

Before we moved, my husband and I had the opportunity to connect with a local pastor and his wife. We figured we would seek to be faithful church members, but we wouldn’t have much bandwidth to have many deep friendships. Or at least, I didn’t. Plus, I was somewhat embittered by the cold. This was such a rural, frigid place. It seemed unlike anywhere I had ever been.A far cry from my very favorite residence–Southern California! I wondered why we had come in the first place. And if you had asked me, I probably would’ve told you that I hated it.

I actually remember thinking, “I wish we had stayed”.

redeemingmundance.com

For the course of those first few months, I remember feeling lonelier than I had ever been. We’d had deep friendships in Rhode Island, a church we loved and a house that seemed idyllic. But here we were, in dark, cold, icy Vermont.

And so, on that first Sunday when we made the half-hour drive to what would become our home-church—the “light in the valley” as it is so aptly named— I was grouchy. We walked in, and I tearfully recounted how I didn’t know anyone and we were out in the middle of nowhere. With snow-covered mountains and mud everwhere. These people had been here for years—most of them their entire lives. And I was this random outsider who clearly didn’t look at all like anyone else.

It felt hopeless.

I should stop here and say that I started this blog months ago. Even now as I am writing this, I feel differently. Where I once wrote that I’m not sure what changed I can now admit that I know exactly what changed. And it wasn’t me. I had resolved–or rather, the Lord reminded me– that the only way I might survive this wintry season of heart and weather was to press in. He is so kind to deal graciously with us in the midst of our stubborn sinfulness.

In my sinful stupor, the Lord reminded me to press in by His very example to join our uncomfortable, foreign, messy and cold world.

Redeeming the Mundane

In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
⁶ Who, being in very nature^[a] God,
    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
⁷ rather, he made himself nothing
    by taking the very nature^[b] of a servant,
    being made in human likeness.
⁸ And being found in appearance as a man,
    he humbled himself
    by becoming obedient to death—
        even death on a cross!

Philippians 2:6-8

The following week, still cold-but humbled–I was carting my 4 and 1 year-olds to a mommy’s group. And then to a small group with their dad. Over the course of the next few months, we began to learn their lives, we shared meals together, wept together, prayed together, laughed and sang together…

Before I knew it, three years had passed. This girl who had once said she never imagined staying in such a rural place ended up finding joy in the middle of such a challenging transition. We added two more littles to the gang. We planted gardens, hiked rivers, watched Daddy catching fish, explored markets—carefully saving trinkets and savoring local faire. We found a little bit of sweetness in every simple day. We endured the present contentedly and [by God’s goodness] learned to love where we had been transplanted.

We learned afresh to cherish [and prioritize] the local body of believers–the Church. And we humbly watched as these beloved friends regularly ministered to our little clan—whether it was through time together, time in God’s Word, sharing a meal[or a creemee on a breezy summer afternoon], or all of the little in-between oddities that make up living.

When faced with the opportunity to move elsewhere, we knew it was God’s will, but our hearts were saddened to think of leaving. This is never something I imagined admitting. And on our last day to worship alongside these precious saints, I looked on tearfully as we shared one final meal, prayed corporately and watched our children play–blissfully unaware of the impending change.

Standing in my new house all those years ago watching my daughters scale the packing paper mound, I never could’ve guessed how God would provide. But that’s the way it always goes, isn’t it?

Redeeming the Mundane

²⁰ Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, ²¹ to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:20-21

I could recall countless stories of how God faithfully provided during our time there(neighbors who became some of our dearest friends, a homeschool community and afterward play dates where deep friendships were nurtured, shared holidays, snow days with friends.etc…). But for the sake of time and brevity, I’ll just say…

There is so much profound joy that I would not have known if I had stayed in Rhode Island…