Thai Pineapple Stir Fried Rice w/Shrimp
Southern Style Banana Pudding from Scratch
Seafoam Salad: A Jell-O Movement
Sriracha Spicy Sprouts
I am doing my best to keep my word posting my recipe the day after. Here’s the thing…I didn’t take a picture and there are no left overs. Everyone ate them even the kid that said, “What’s that SMELL?!” The reason I thought I’d share this is 1. So easy! 2. So healthy! 3. Today I’m doing a bit of a longer recipe. It’s Good Friday and thinking about what to do for Easter for the family.
As I mentioned Sriracha sauce has an interesting history. It’s made in Rosemead California and is iconic of Thai and Vietnamese cooking. I put a link to an interesting article and documentary about the famous spicy sauce. Many people make their own with hot peppers that they grow. The first time I really took a liking to it was in a place in the village in NYC that had shelves lined with it. There’s something just yummy about it.
So onward to the spicy sprouts!
A large Costco bag or two smaller bags of Brussel sprouts is what your going to start with. Cut those stems off and cut them in half. Put them on a baking sheet or roasting pan.
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
3 or 4 cloves of garlic chopped.
Kosher or fancy Himalayan salt that you don’t know how they mine.
Pepper
Sriracha more or less is up to you.
Drizzle the brussels with the oil and toss with the garlic. Salt, Pepper and squirt liberally with Sriracha sauce. It’s going to be spicy.
Place them in the BROILER and let them roast up until the edges are slightly dark or even burnt. Toss a couple times and put them back in. When I take them out I like to put them in a serving dish and put them on the table. I’ve served these many times even at Thanksgiving because they are so easy and everyone loves them even the ones born hating sprouts. Till next time with Covid cooking!! Trying for 6pm Eastern Standard Time!!
Passover: Crunchy Pickle Salad
COVID 19 Week 1: A Call to Worship
So it’s again been a while since I’ve posted on my blog but what time is better than a quarantined time during a pandemic?
Last week we did church at Seacoast Online for the first time. That felt weird. The Friday before at work we were preparing or thinking the “what ifs” and bracing for a plan should they close the schools. I work in a school that is a residential school and really this is something though hard, I worry about my students because I’ve formed a relationship with them. Being where they are is hard. We kind of joke every time we squirt their hands with hand sanitizer about the Coronavirus….but it’s not a joke anymore. I was three chapters short of finishing the Owls of Gahoole with them….some were going to be going into foster care….some were going to be going to another facility. I might not get to say goodbye or how much much they are loved. Sometimes the first place they hear those words are when they enter our classroom.
With my own children they were excited to get the call that school was closed but didn’t quite understand they were going to be schooled at home. There wasn’t a hurricane coming. They couldn’t wrap their head around the whole virus thing and the dangers of it. So we have had to do some home education around what a pandemic really is and what a virus that has no cure or no boundaries could actually do to screw with their lives that they are living at this point.
My week looked like this.
Monday: 6am start and headed up to the farm and started making packets in core classes for each of our students. Stopped at my kids’ high school to pick up their Chromebooks because I wasn’t going to have them share computers and kill each other. There was an eerie sense of undergirded panic that you could just sense from the teachers handing me the computers with gloves on but I deeply appreciate the schools spring into action for these kids. Just the night before one of my kids had a breakdown because his personal Chromebook had died and we had to send it back and he was afraid of the inability to get his school work done. The other two thought they were going to maybe go to the bahamas…it wasn’t fathomable that Mom would come home with Chromebooks and say….”you are still on the course to graduate and someday become real full fledged adults!” We went to bed just sort of worried, stunned and honestly sort of grateful we didn’t have to wake up at 6am. They say to keep things like normal….waking up at 6am isn’t normal no matter what age or profession you’re in.
Tuesday: We woke up hopeful. Optimistic. Coffee and breakfast would be served! We can totally do this thing. I woke up the kids and they were compilable somewhat but there was a little pushback about why…why did they need to even get up. They had their meds and two pretty much ready to go other than rolling their eyes when I told them to sit at their desks or develop a hunchback. I locked the gaming system and the remote controls away. One child which shall remain nameless, his phone is locked away otherwise we wouldn’t get anything done.
It took 8.5 hours to get the first day of school at home done. This isn’t the fault of anyone other than the supreme skill of work avoidance that my children have acquired. We did eat dinner but I can’t remember what. But I didn’t go outside at all really and it wore me thin to say the least. Tomorrow is a new day and tomorrow we are going to get better at this…that is until one of my kids decided to drink coffee at 4pm and have insomnia until 2am.
Wednesday: I let the boys sleep in a bit. It took two hours to get my child with learning challenges to get out of bed. He was grumpy as always. I bribed him to take a shower in exchange for two Nutella sandwiches for breakfast. Two of my other kids got up and got started on their work for the day- I don’t know if they sat at their desks but I did remind them to please get dressed and not do a Zoom or Google hangout like the naked cowboy of NYC. We managed to get some work done but MATH is a refiners fire. I am not a math teacher but good Lord Jesus when your son has learning difficulties YOU’VE got to bend like a reed in the water. Praise Jesus for Khan Academy and Mr. Khan you need to be knighted and or canonized as a saint! It was 10pm before we were finished. We did eat…I think but I’m not sure who made food or ate it. I gave that insomniac child a melatonin.
Thursday: Letting one child sleep for two hours in so instead of 8am it was 10am. We actually Skyped his special education counselor for an hour. He did explain to my youngest that school was still ON and don’t forget that. They showed each other their dogs. I do think letting my son know he can call his counselor will backfire because he’s already tried to call the dude at 11pm at night. My son doesn’t get teachers have office hours. I’m going to have to hid his Chromebook so he doesn’t try calling teachers at midnight. We managed to take a two quizzes for my son and it was finally the opportunity for him to take the quiz knowing that he had been focused on the task. I had to almost duck tape him to his chair but I promised he could shoot his BB gun if he WOULD JUST SIT AND FOCUS. He shoots his BB gun in his socks. I felt accomplished.
Friday: TGIF as we managed to recenter our day and try to get to work before 10am. I don’t know if this is how I would “homeschool” because I’m sort of a Waldor Stiener subscriber to some things. if I had to do it for an extended period of time? but I think we actually got a lot done. It’s only two weeks right? Until the call came that school will be out until after our Spring Break 4/13. We’ve listened from time to time the news. Read some stuff online. Some people are taking it seriously some are not. The kids are weary of having to stay in and do so much time on school. We did get to eat as a family. Friday still felt like a Friday in some ways. We don’t have the usual stresses but we have others like kids not telling us they are going on their bikes and where they are going.
Saturday: We sleep in. A wave of Pslams 23 hit me like a ton of bricks this AM. I walk the dog at a nearby neighborhood park that is like a secret garden. There’s one other dog walker in the park and we say hi but know we can’t get too close. People are scared of each other. Is this what God is trying to say to all of us humans down here. YOU THINK YOU ARE CONNECTED but YOU AREN’T. “Even though I walk through the valley in the shadow of death…you are with me….”
It feels like it should be a weekend but I know these lines will eventually blur. I’m determined to find paper towels and bread because my kids have eaten 3 loaves of bread in 2 days. I’m accused of “not being able to survive a zombie apocalypse because I don’t buy the right foods.” so I challenge my son to come to the store with me. We drive to Target. We go to the aisle of paper products. EMPTY. We go to the bread aisle. EMPTY except the whole wheat bread that my son complains about and he reluctantly puts 3 loaves in our cart. Then we go down the aisle of soap and score some nice smelling stuff and also we manage to find some sausages and meatballs but for the most part the meat area is EMPTY. I can sense that my son is growing more and more anxious as he sees that this is real. He tells me to “hurry up Mom…” that he has homework, which I know isn’t true. I sense he just wants to leave because he’s scared and wants the comfort of something other than the soul sucking empty shelves of Target glaring at him. I watched a woman hold an outfit in front of herself in the mirror. What I’d like to do is continue to shop, Target browse and just pretend things are normal. God pressed upon me that now is not the time. Be an example of obedience. Prioritize your life. Right now we need to just turn inward and love our families. Console them. Affirm that God is in control. By the way, my son bought Cheez- Its and Pretzel chips to survive Covid 19 but I told him I’d share the meatballs I found.
Saturday night: I make tacos. Anxious Boy’s favorite. Let’s all recenter ourselves. Come together as a family. The funny thing is that I’ve felt socially distanced for a long while since moving to Charleston. The rhythms of our family on the surface seemed to be disjointed. Disconnected. Alone. Lonely. My life seems to be work, driving kids around and wanting to do more, but really just unable to have the energy to do anything more. I have my small group and those ladies are the most consistent friends. Neighbors are lovely but I haven’t had the ability to connect the way I’ve wanted to. I haven’t been able to manage many aspects of having three teenagers well. I feel powerless to make any kind of change without God’s miraculous power. I also know that we all stand in our front lawns and smile. It’s harder getting past the front porch.
Sunday: Two things. Church is hard for us right now. Our teens struggle with wanting to actually GO to church but they do. Now they struggle with wanting to even venture to the living room. Reluctantly they sat and ate my Cinnabuns and watched. I listened to a podcast this week called 1517, which is kind of a theology nerd’s podcast that is associated with Christ Holds Fast. Kind of “Lutherny” if I may say so. The conversation was about how family worship through things like the Book of Common prayer and a hymnal was an everyday thing. And that the education of children regarding the gospel and doctrines were not handed out to the church at large it was the responsibility of the parents. We have come so far from 1517. In my dining room I have two old hymns framed hanging on the wall. In Christ I Stand and The Old Rugged Cross. When I found these I knew that God was pressing me to hand the lyrics of old hymns on my dining room so that as we ate together we’d occasionally just read those words. Only that doesn’t happen if your family isn’t doing family meals very well.
We’ve tried to regain some of our family’s priorities back in this way over the last week. The teenagers fight us on these things. They have pushed back the curfews and the social distancing from their friends. The attitude of “why are we making such a big deal out of this” and “I’m not sick and you can’t make me do what you want”. We try to explain it’s to protect the vulnerable, the weak and the people in our lives that might be more susceptible to pneumonia. The Christian faith does NOT believe in survival of the fittest or fend for yourself. We go against that thinking and it is so so hard to live that out when spring breakers continue to party and live for the day. So when we say we are still doing church together….this isn’t the time to stop intentional family worship.
I’ve also listened to Tim Keller on The Gospel Coaltion Live talk about how we respond to something like this. One big takeaway was pray, weep and reprioritize OUR LOVES. Whether we realize it or not. God is reprioritizing OUR LOVES. Recentering our daily rhythms. Family worship in 1517 was daily prayers and daily bread. Our work was worshipful. Education of our kids was at home. I’m not saying that we all should homeschool…but how many of us have said “I could never…” or “there’s no way I would…” or maybe if given the opportunity would we see that something isn’t working in the educational system for children at large? Do you pray as a family, do you worship as a family? God is recentering our broken, disjointed, rebellious, hurting home is reprioritizing OUR LOVES.
It’s not easy. It’s messy. It requires patience, humility and just getting our hands off the wheel.
Week one was rough. I’m not going to lie. Monday is sure to be rough too. When this is over I don’t think I’m going to have more obedient children…but they might know the importance of obedience someday when they look back at these times and remember. We can not force them to have a HEART of obedience. But that’s what God is pressing for us adults to have too.
Sunday night: In light of a phone call from the school they are investigating one infection in the boys’ school population. We’re all in this together. “I will fear no evil.”
20/20 Vision
Dear Family and Friends,
Here we are at the holidays and we are looking more like a New Year’s letter/card than Christmas. I think it snuck up on all of us so fast. I know this season of life has been tough but It’s time to stop and breath and contemplate and for us to practice gratitude. This is our second Christmas in South Carolina and I feel I’m less living in an out of body experience than last year but it still feels weird to me to be barefoot going to the mailbox in December. For Christmas I got new progressive lenses (yes I am now that old officially) and so I’m looking forward to seeing and reading clearly! As we clocked in another season here, the boys are more settled in life here too even though I know they do miss Amherst.
The twins are juniors at Wando High School and Daniel is a freshman at the same school. All three Vote boys in one school means a place gets to know the Votes REALLY WELL. I never knew how hard having kids in high school were but here we are navigating through the nuances of southern culture being yankees and so I must constantly remind some that WE ARE STILL NEW HERE. Daniel has enjoyed being in Air Force ROTC this year. I personally love the program and it is the most pro-social entity that is in his life. I’m not a big military person but as someone who is said, “they are training to be ambassadors and representing our country, school etc. they must learn to be leaders and deal with the officer.” As hard as it is to iron that uniform it’s blessed him with some great opportunities.
Garrison and Jonah are still working at Jack’s Cosmic Hot Dogs. Jonah’s been known to don the hot dog suit and wave down traffic. Jonah is taking 3D art and Art 2, still very talented in art but tinkering in culinary exploits. He has a steady girlfriend that I actually hired as a math tutor for Daniel so it’s win win for me. Garrison is taking Civil Engineering/Architecture, as well as AP Psychology and really hoping he leans into the creative field with his talent and he also spends time skateboarding. They both have their learners permits and we are slowly inching towards the time they will be drivers….but we are in no hurry. Over the summer we went to visit SCAD Savannah Collage of Art and I think they were inspired at the small art college environment. It’s hard to imagine where they will be in a couple of years, but I’ll keep my head in the sand for while longer with that!
Steven is enjoying the weather working from home and using his meat smoker. The amazing thing is that he’s lost almost 50 pounds and still going strong. We try to get out together to walk on the beach with our crazy Maisy dog and watch the dolphins feed off of our new favorite spot called Breach Inlet. It’s actually the location of a battle in the Revolutionary War and it’s kind of interesting to think about under all the sand what might lay underneath. Frequently when I come home he’s working with Maisy at his feet and it’s a good sight to see at the end of the day.
I am still working at the same place I have been last year as a teaching assistant in an alternative program that is residential for foster kids and psychiatric treatment facility. Yes it’s hard. This year I really wanted to move on, however it wasn’t God’s plan. I’m a little less “shocked” by it all and it’s super emotional at times when a good one leaves (the entire point…) and another one comes. There’s been some changes to the program that have made my job somewhat “better” so I opted to stay for the time being. I spent a lot of time this summer taking Maisy to the beach early in the morning and hanging at the dog park.
We also enjoyed having Steven’s sister Joanne and her fiance Greg visit this summer. I’ve gotten very good and doing a small foot tour of downtown Charleston. Daniel really bonded with Greg as they are both motorheads and we took them to cars and coffee and Ladson market. We had seriously perfect weather and it was fun to have guests while we had time off.
We also took some time to drive to PA and visit my parents before the school year got started and we practiced traveling with our “puppy” who is now 54 pounds of love. That practice came in handy when we evacuated for Doreen to the Asheville, NC area. We took advantage of having some time off, and visited Pisgah National Forest and Asheville. We definitely want to visit again and hopefully get to the Biltmore but we took in the mountain air and came home to just some palm branches on the ground. We are very grateful! One of the benefits for myself in writing this letter is to see the year behind me and count my days and people blessings….there are have been very hard times that don’t make the highlight reel on social media….yet still we are blessed. I am thankful that God placed us with great people both in church and in our neighborhood. We miss our friends and family if we can’t see you in person but we also pray that the Lord keep you in good spirits this Christmas season. Here’s to the 20/20 vision we have for the new decade!
A Year
via A Year
A Year
It’s coming up to a year since we packed up our lives in Amherst, Massachusetts and moved south of the Mason Dixon….way down in the deep south of Charleston, South Carolina. I thought I would resurrect a bit of my blog or attempt to as we roll around the 12 month mark, just after July 4th that we moved here. Many of my lovely Facebook followers know much of what we do and what we’ve experienced to some degree because of course I post so many dog photos of our sweet puppy Maisy Honey Biscuit. The blog deserves better though and I’ve tried to write only to get busy with something and address other more pressing issues. It’s hard to believe it’s been a year because it feels like 3 months…maybe 6. It’s weird following once very close friends on social media and not having them to depend on as vital parts of my support network for life. This is the part of moving that can be very lonely and very isolating to anyone.
We’ve encountered a lot down here, some good some not so good. I’ve learned a lot. We think we know our country but one thing I want to say about the different dynamics of this country is don’t assume you know how it is from one part of the territory if you don’t actually LIVE there. People love to assume the south is all racist or that they are an uneducated bunch of yokels. True there is much history here, and much of it deeply painful and in your face….but also incredible stories of bravery and overcoming huge systemic obstacles. You can see and experience the ruins and remnants of those systemic obstacles once you step outside of the planned neighborhoods. If people are unwilling to acknowledge the bad with the good and the good with the bad, we will not be unified in anything other than our addiction to social media. Politics are so different here. In my opinion, less sophisticated. New people move here all the time, I have no clue who would be good on the school board. There’s stuff going on I honestly don’t have any interest in, and then there’s things that make my eyes roll but because I’m new and things will affect me I feel obligated to at least get the lay of the land. If we are going to do anything about education in the South we have to address POVERTY and RACISM. And it goes both ways. I’ve been told by a student that “I won’t learn from a white teacher.” Luckily the teacher and I having immigrant backgrounds from Italy and Greece basically taught the class that our ancestors came in more recent times and weren’t considered “white” post WW2 so that meant we were all going to learn about history as ONE people. Having that kind of attitude would be the biggest stumbling block in his life…
My experience in my workplace has definitely also taught me some things. When I first started my job I didn’t receive any training on how to work with kids in trauma outside of what I knew from my last job- and that was spectacular knowledge comparatively. Trauma changes the brain physically to fight or flight mode so that’s basically what I have witnessed. Lots of fighting and “flighting” meaning running sometimes out of the classroom only to be met by a large pond with an alligator in it. Honestly I was most stressed about driving on highway 17 here which felt like “death race 2,000” out to a rural area with the same red semi trailers every morning would tailgate me….it felt like the Devil on my hide. The kids were cute, and sweet and then the honeymoon period ended. I mean they are still cute and sweet but as I got to know them they I guess they felt safe enough to let loose a bit. There’s much I simply can’t post or speak about. I have heard stories of unbelievable cruelty and neglect that you only read about in the papers. I’ve seen the child who comes into DSS custody and into a new facility, scared and standoffish. I’ve tried to be the “Mom” figure in the class but if “Mom” uses a shock collar on a kid he’s probably a little wary of Moms… I can’t tell you how many hours of screaming children in an “intervention room” I’ve had to ignore. Psychologically I’m still recovering. I’ve endeared myself to several of the kids that in all reality are very “adoptable” children although I hate that word now…because what makes a child “adoptable” vs. not. People should never enter fostering thinking they are getting a cute little puppy….I’ve seen kids come and go and I was not prepared for some of their stories and for them to also leave halfway through the school year sometimes successful and sometimes not. The mobility of the foster care system is utterly tragic. Sometimes these kids know each other from other facilities. They move them around if they don’t have placement or their money runs out. I’ve tried to not bring my work “home” with me but I will say my church’s monthly First Wednesday services has carried me through to refresh myself mentally and spiritually for what God had in mind for us down here.
When it comes to my own children it was a huge adjustment to a large 4,000 student body in high school for my older kids. Like minnows swimming upstream they have had to figure things out sometimes the hard way. They get kind of funny about cussing down here as if that’s the top priority….my question has been can a kid READ or does he cuss when frustrated? Choose your priority otherwise don’t say you want reform. People love to say how horrible the education is down here but in all reality I don’t think it’s “great” anywhere. There are brilliant teachers and awesome schools here. There is also dependance on technology that I think isn’t the way to solve educational problems…they are fun for the teachers to use though. The biggest factor for kids in poverty is having a PARENT advocate that is willing to walk the walk. Kids in the foster epidemic have NO ONE TO ADVOCATE FOR THEM. There might be an “advocate” but it could be the “baby sitter’s mother in law” that legally makes educational decisions for a child. We are in an epidemic as a society and any real reform or referendum is just robbing Peter to pay Paul. Or as I have witnessed systematic corruption and apathy simply because no one has raised the question, “is this really how you do this?” for fear of retribution. The school to prison pipeline is real. Prison reform needs to include educational reform or we are just putting a bandaid over a severed artery. In fact the school in the prison out scored many schools in our district. Think about that…kids in prison….out scoring regular schools. Consider becoming a Guardian Ad Liedum for a foster kid if you want to make a difference.
With my own children in schools I’ve had to do my hardest advocating but also I’ve had to allow them to have consequences that they would have never incurred if we remained up north. Advocacy means knowing the law. They have thrived in some areas of their lives, and struggled in others. We are still adjusting and learning…but we’ve also had to depend on God in ways we never thought we’d have to. Still the opportunities here are plenty and the weather is lovely. When we moved here it was so hot and so humid my toes would sweat. I’ve actually gotten used to the humidity to a degree and actually kinda like it. However in the fall I started getting allergies and contracted pneumonia which if I don’t continue taking Flonase and Zyrtec I get post nasal drip that makes me super susceptible to upper respiratory infections. My kids have continued to wear sweatshirts in the hot 99 degree weather?? I don’t understand it but as Steven says, “Mad dogs and Englishmen lay in the sun.” We’ve enjoyed having the beach 20 minutes away and dogs are allowed off leash at 7am to 9am so I try to get there as often as I can now that school is out. I’m getting used to always having beach stuff in my car and sand.
I’ve honestly found the dog people at the dog run to be the most social and lovely group of people down here. Lots of dogs that are rescues and I love hearing their dog stories. Dixie dogs that stayed in Dixie. There’s even breeds of dogs I’d never heard of before. Boykin Spaniel is the SC state dog breed. Nothing prepared me for the amount of animal abuse however that I see here with high kill shelters and people not neutering or spaying their dogs. Mix that with letting hunting dogs roam Marion National Forest and using puppies for coyote or bear bait. We actually signed a contract that we would not use Maisy for baiting and we also would not use and “E” collar which is just another fancy word for shock collar. She was one of 10 found under a shipping container at 4-5 weeks and had worms pretty bad. We had to get her Giardia under control too but she’s pretty much gone from dust to glory and lives to bury things in our couch, LOVES to swim at the beach and has made our house feel like a home.
Things that I’ve learned to love are the tree frogs, the sounds of the ponds like bullfrogs and sightings of alligators. Also occasional anoles that come out when I water my planters. One a cold day when the sun comes out there’s a rat snake that sheds its skin. I’ve learned about Egrets that came here in a hurricane from Africa and the sounds of a barn owl in the woods behind us says, “Whoo threw the shoe!?” The humidity comes and goes but I try to embrace it and the smell of the marsh which is an acquired liking. The fiddler crabs that scurry at low tide as you walk on the marshside nature paths at dusk are apocalyptic. We’ve witnessed an eagle get lunch and perch on our fence at 4am. My neighbor laughed when I told them we saw this and she said, “what were you doing up at 4am?” I love knowing when high tide is and low tide, full moon and you know the weather is going to change when it’s windy. The big open sky makes me look up at the stars and at times see the milky way above the palmetto trees. We’ve gone through one hurricane season and evacuation and apparently you don’t leave until Waffle House closes. We’ve enjoyed meeting new people and getting involved in our church although we still feel “new” even though we have been going for a year. Seacoast has helped us in many ways adjust here but it’s also been a lifeline of support when things have gotten sketchy. It’s a huge church but it’s not the only church of it’s kind in the south. Everyone goes to church. This is something many forget…and just because you go to church….here in the Bible belt, doesn’t mean people have received the Gospel.
The things I miss terribly are my buddies at Grace United, Leticia’s Earl Grey tea and her music, my literary book club, Goberry, my swim partner and theology nerd walking friend Laura, my neighbors that would just walk into my home and have a glass of wine, the Taste of Amherst with asparagus fries and Flayvor’s aparagus ice cream. My Mom friends and the kid’s friends that they have had since they were three years old. I knew I would miss these things. This does not surprise me. It’s just weird seeing things like graduations and kids looking grown up from afar.
We’ve had to combat those things that we miss with carving out new favorite things, being intentional about making friends….we’ve walked through the same things our teenagers have had to in forming new friendships and at times it’s not easy to break into already well formed circles of friendships, particularly in a very different culture and place. I’ve had to carve these sometimes lonely pathways out with greater dependance on God. Our first Thanksgiving felt odd but we had a smoked turkey and helped Seacoast serve 3,000 turkey dinners to North Charleston’s community. Christmas Eve, my son Daniel had a scratched cornea and we ended up in the ER so we had Tostino’s pizza rolls for dinner, then a fire broke out in my oven Christmas day so we ordered Chinese instead of cooking the traditional roast beef. That’s also when we got Maisy and she made it joyous to endure our first year here. In learning my new city’s history I am beginning to know the streets like Calhoon, and Meeting, or what North of Broad means. Steven is really into grits and I am not so much. I can do and awesome walking tour of Charleston at this point and I learn something new with each one I do. I think one of my favorite things is talking to the african american older people that are sassy and spiritual….they have no inhibitions about their faith. Learning about the Gullah Geechee people that are here descendants of slaves just willing to share their history and stories. There’s also money here. Money from all over the place. Money makes people do weird things. We’ve had to navigate this with our kids a culture that at times…values money over character or status symbols in clothing, gadgets and wheels over having loyal good friends. Trying to keep them humble and bursting their bubble occasionally by saying “We’re not that”.
So as we come up to a year here, the 4th of July and the fireworks go off I thought it would be good to reflect and give myself a break at wanting to feel more “at home”. While I don’t think I’ll have neighbors that just walk into my house for tea or wine, this past week we’ve dealt with some “stuff” and I got a text from my neighbor…and just knowing that we have people here now…praying and checking in with us makes me feel like I am known and less of an outsider. In actuality I don’t think I’ll ever truly feel that way until I am in the presence of the Father. Maybe that is the purpose of sometimes having God uproot us and move us from time to time.
Lucy in Grace 