One of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to do is make friends at church.

I say this not for a lack of effort by myself or of the church but the difficulty in connecting the two.

We moved to Florida three and a half years ago from Murfreesboro, TN. We had been pretty heavily involved in the church back home and were looking to take a step back to give ourselves some breathing room with a new chapter in Florida. Once we were settled in Saint Augustine, several months were devoted trying to find a new church home within the Methodist church but to no avail. None of the Methodist churches in Saint Augustine spoke to us and so we decided to switch back to my Presbyterian roots. When we walked into Memorial Presbyterian Church in downtown Saint Augustine, we knew we had found our home. But what happens when God tells you that you are where you are supposed to be but you can’t seem to find a connection? We knew this church was where we were being led to call home but here we are, three and a half years later, and still looking for a place to fit in.

I have pondered on this for some time, trying to put my finger on exactly what isn’t connecting. It’s like getting only half the answer right on a quiz and being completely stumped on the other half. I could blame it on Covid, that sure didn’t help anything. I could blame is on the 30 minute drive to church (no one seems to live in our neck of the woods). But in reality it simply comes down to a disconnect somewhere and this year, I’m going to find out where.

This past week was the most trying week I’ve had at work since we’ve moved. I had a run in with a co-worker that left me questioning myself and testing my faith. When I feel wounded by something, I retreat. I live in the silence until I find my footing, discern what it was that effected me so strongly and decide on my path forward. In this instance, I was being made out to be someone I am not. But the simple accusation left me questioning if that was even accurate. Getting down to brass tacks, I was faced with the intimate inner question of “Am I a good person”? My inner critic says no. Actually, it screams it at me quite often but that is going to have to be a whole other blog for another time. I have come to the point in my life where I attempt to be less prideful and more humble but not without my flaws. I openly admit those to myself and wear the scars like badges to show that no, I am not thinking I’m above something or someone. I know this to be true deep down but this incident truly bothered me and I could not figure out why.

After the better part of a week in my retreat status, it occurred to me. I was missing spiritual connections. This made tough situations feel like I was sailing in open water with no charted course. How can I learn from my mistakes if I don’t even seek the answers? And that meant bucking up and putting more effort into my Faith journey. Which brings me back to the disconnect with our church. Sure, I’ve got acquittances there from over the past couple of years but I had failed to invest in any relationships or leave myself open to someone investing in me. Tim and I aren’t your typical Christians. We have a weird sense of humor. We follow baseball. (has anyone else noticed how many church goers are Football fans?!) We curse, we’re middle of the road on politics, I drink a little. Basically, we don’t fit the mold.

At least that is how we’ve felt in past experiences. We didn’t quite fit the mold in our church home in Tennessee either. We did make the effort there and I ended up being deeply wounded from several individuals in our Sunday School class that I now believe has led to my hesitation in putting myself forward here. But this disconnected feeling has also led me to reflect on how many times did someone visit our church in Tennessee, sit right next to me and left feeling disconnected as well?

Which brings me back to my first statement. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do was make friends at church. You show up as the odd man out. Everyone knows everyone else’s names (or at least that is the appearance). Relationships are already established, history has already been made and here you are walking in brand new. Our busy schedules and comfortable routines leave us oblivious to those who are disconnected. We show up to church, say hi to those we know, participate in Sunday School and go home. Maybe we’ll see each other on Wednesday night worships. Maybe not.

But as a newcomer, it is difficult to remember names. When you walk into the room, people are already paired up and if you don’t interject yourself, you become a wallflower. And for someone that tends to lean towards being introvert, this can be really difficult. You don’t live close to anyone. Your kids don’t go to the same schools. You don’t have the same interests. Here in lays the disconnect. And its not for lack of welcoming or for lack of trying but for lack of time. We simply have not had the history, the experiences, the milestones that others have had together and it leaves me wondering how many people feel the same as me? and how can we make things better?

It wasn’t until my incident at work, that the very realness of my tiny Faith circle was felt. Could having those connections in place have made my situation better? Maybe, maybe not but I would have felt less isolated, perhaps. It just so happens that this week, Owen began his journey towards Confirmation. I was never confirmed in the church, so I am living vicariously through him. One of the things we had to do was sign a pledge, a commitment of sorts, to be there for every Confirmation class. This is definitely going to shake up our schedule and rearrange our week. So I am taking the opportunity to commit myself to finding my place. I took the timing of events as a sign. We’ve been disconnected far too long and need to redraw our faith circle. We got the first half of the answer right, already. We have the church home. I just pray that we find our deeper connection within this Church family as this year we finally take our seat at the table.

Watch out Memorial Presbyterian. The Duncan’s are going to be in your face, on hand and ready.

Remember that feeling when you get a brand new rubki’s cube?  It’s perfect, it’s pretty, it’s a challenge

AND…..

It will never be perfect like that again, as it is in this moment. Because, what do we do? We immediately twist, turn, rotate it until it turns into a block of mis-matched colors on every side.  Will it every look as perfect as it did when you first got it out of the box, again? Probably not.  I mean, some people know how to solve the rubik’s cube but I’m willing to wager that the mass majority of us can not.  I mean, we try.  My God do we try. But rarely does it every look that same as the in the beginning, it it’s perfect state.

I tried to learn how to solve a rubik’s cube, once.  And I succeeded for a short time.  There is actually a multi step algorithm to it .  And aint nobody got time to memorize that.

However, that’s neither here nor there and beside the point.

What I am getting to is that we are all born in this out of the box state.  The perfect rubik’s cube.  Un twisted, turned, manipulated. We are untouched by society, judgement, opinions.  We are pure. And as we go through life, God throws us twists and turns.  Sometimes we find ourselves the only yellow block, surrounded by blues.  Sometimes we are surrounded by like colors.  We don’t know what turn is next, we don’t know which colors we’ll be paired with next.  But God does…. God has memorized the algorithm of our lives and it’s hard for me to remember that at times.

This past weekend made me feel like the only yellow block in a world full of blues. It was the first weekend that I spent alone in Florida. The boys were at a cub scout camping trip and I found myself facing a wall of blue. I don’t know that many people here, yet.  I’m not yet plugged in and I felt alone.

Most of you know that I am an open book.  I am open about my fears, anxieties and even my triggers of depression, in hopes to be a beacon for those who are too afraid of the stigma that is typically attached to these words.  So, with that being said, I took to social media for help.  I flat out said that being alone scared me.  That I felt lonely and that anxieties were looming in the shadows of the empty days ahead.

As a result, I received texts, comments, emails from dozens of people

 ranging from TN to FL.  This helped me back up and see the slow rotation of

yellows into the solid blue wall.

I

was

not

alone. 

I prayed, I received MUCH appreciated encouragement and I connected with God in a way I had been missing.  Saturday approached and I felt a wave of ease and peace wave of me.  I was not the only yellow because of God’s every twist and turns.

I will never be perfect as I was when I was first pulled from the box.  Most of my life will probably be spent mis matched or off kilter. But this weekend helped me realize that God is in control of the next move. And he’s got the answer key.  So, worrying about being the only color on one side, is a waste of energy.  We aren’t in control.  Some days we’ll find ourselves aligned with like colors. And in those moments, we will rejoice.  When we find ourselves in single color moments, we will have courage.

Because the greatest thing about a Rubik’s cube?  Is that it is always perfectly imperfect…..

If given the opportunity and resources to move to the place of your dreams, would you? Seriously think about the question. If it meant you had to gather the courage to leave all you’ve known and venture out without the promise of succeeding but also without the promise of failing, would you? We’re talking willingly leaping out of your comfort zone in exchange for an opportunity to do make your life spectacular but with no assurance on the outcome, would you?

This is the situation Tim and I found ourselves in. We’re not saying that our life in Tennessee was bad. We were comfortable. We had family, great friends and an amazing church we were involved in. But in the past couple of years, we’ve felt ourselves left wanting, as a couple. Tim and I first got together when we were 17. We graduated High School together, went on to graduate college together, eventually got married, got the house, had kids and steady jobs. All in all, we were very fortunate.. However, both of us felt something was missing. Even to the point were we looked at each other one day and said “What next?” We had conquered all of the happy life milestones by the age of 36. So what now? We hadn’t thought that far ahead. We had come to the end of our list of goals. While I say we were comfortable, neither one of us were happy in our jobs. We were living paycheck to paycheck with long hours at stressful jobs and we were feeling it. We were living life by default. Just going with the turns in the road that were ahead of us and never venturing off the beaten path. We were content but not inspired.

Some may stop here and say “Well, no one really LOVES their jobs” but we refused to accept that response. I spent 8 years as an insurance claims adjuster. Sitting behind a desk in a cubical with a mountain of pressure on my shoulders. There HAD to be more.

When we discovered St. Augustine, we knew… THAT was our next goal. And man, what a goal we set. We were going to be uprooting everything we knew and moving to a city where we knew no one, 8 hours from everything we’re used to, without job prospects. I mean, if we were going to pick a life goal, why not go for one that is unimaginable to most? Go big or go home, right? So we went BIG.

It took about a year of planning before we pulled the trigger on any major decisions and that turned out to be one of the longest years ever. I mean, when you get on facebook and tell all your friends that you are going to move to FL on a whim, they tend to not take you seriously. I remember one time, in our Sunday school class, we mentioned that we were planning on going back down to FL several times to look for jobs and houses and someone said “Wait, I thought you were joking!” Nope, we weren’t. Life is not meant to be dull. God gave us this gift to make it the very best we can. Would you rather receive a present wrapped in tin foil (Tim actually did this to me once) or one wrapped in beautiful, sparkly paper with an extravagant shiny bow? The gift itself is the same but what you do with it makes all the difference. Some may be content with tin foil, and that’s fine. But me? I went for the bow.

First stop in our planning process was finances. I have to admit, its not really fun to go from making this huge life changing decision to being a responsible adult to make sure the life changing decision doesn’t leave you living out of a box.

We sat down and calculated what was going out vs. what was coming in. We paid off what we could. We sold what we didn’t need. I created an excel spreadsheet to track month to month. When Christmas came around, I made quite a few of our gifts instead of using the credit card. Actually, the credit card became our enemy. We threw them in a drawer and if we didn’t have the money, we didn’t get whatever it was. I had a pension that I didn’t know was there at my job and we both had 401K’s. We wisely divided up our tax return and saved any cash given to us to go towards “The Florida Fund”. When I said we planned, I mean we PLANNED.

Tim was put in charge of logistics. He researched the schools, houses, found us a realtor in FL, and even located the cub scout pack the boys would be in so we could plug them in a social network as quickly as possible. We educated ourselves on homestead states, credit scores, flood zones, interest rates and taxes. While Tim was doing the research, I was getting things paid. We had made the decision to move in June 2018. And what initially was a 2 year plan, rapidly transformed into a move goal date of May, the following year. We were not messing around.

From the moment we decided to go with this urge to move, the more things fell into perfect place. Like we were the pieces of a God size jigsaw puzzle and finally found our fit. Not only did we plan but we also prayed. A LOT. I mean, if we were going to do this incredible thing, we wanted God’s blessing with it. And the more we gave thanks for the wonderful things that were happening for us, the more things fell in place.

By January, we had paid off phones, minimized expenses, repaired, painted, and cleaned out anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. With all that done, we found ourselves in a position for the next big step, for me to quit my job. Why me? Well, we needed to tap into the pension I had accrued over 8 years of blood sweat and tears as a claims adjuster. With this pension we were able to pay off all remaining credit card debt, our car and leave us with savings enough to allot of the move.

So I quit my job, without a job lined up, and then the God’s plan stalled…..

We had come to what I can only believe to be our phase of faith. We had done all the leg work leading up to this moment without really knowing what to do next. We just had Faith that God would give us direction.

We went back down to St. Augustine for Spring break for jobs interviews, with no success. I had quit my job in February and spent three months in a holding pattern. With spring break being a bust, we came back to TN with a grain of fear/doubt in our plans. Actually, I was fighting off the urge to go full fledged panic mode.

WHAT HAVE I DONE?????

This why God placed Tim and I together. He may have gotten a little worried at one point during this hiatus of spiritual direction but he always was there to pull me back down to Earth with assurance that it will all be fine.

For 3 months I searched for jobs in FL from TN. And yes, this is as difficult as it sounds. Typically, when people post jobs, they want to

meet with you right away and you can’t do that when you’re 8 hours away.

But I also feel like God stalled us here in order to give me a period of rest. See, I have an anxiety disorder that I struggle with on a daily basis. Sure, everyone has a little anxiety or stress but mine is not manageable without medication as I am prone to panic attacks. This probably wasn’t a very good match for the field that I was in, as it is one of the most high stress jobs you can have, and yet I managed it for 8 years.

When I quit, it was a great day. I worked with some great people but I was not cut out for the job and had gone as far as I was going to go. When I left my job, a mountain of pressure lifted from my shoulders and I felt free, for the first time in as long as I could remember.

And so , with this in mind, I couldn’t help but think of the end of the movie Babe, where the farmer pats the pig on the head and says “Well done, pig. Well, done”. Babe’s job was done. While my job as a claims adjuster was hard, we would not have been able to make this transition without the timed I put in there.

The first few weeks after I left, it was like a celestial hand patted me on the head and said “Well, done. Rest”.

And so I did.

For The Florida Chronicles, pt. 1

Tons of people have asked why we made the decision to uproot our family, sell our house, leave our church, our friends, and our loved ones and move to the beach.  While I can’t speak for my husband in regards to his reasoning, for me, it all started with a park.

But let me back up some.  About 4 years ago (after numerous staycations to save money) we found ourselves in a position to take a decent vacation to the beach and were asking around as far as a good place to try.

Someone recommended we go to St. Augustine, FL. Tim & I had never heard of it but the more we researched it, the more certain we were that it was our next vaca destination.  It is the oldest city in the united states and chalked FULL of history, which is something we enjoy as a family.

So we booked our trip and off we went!

When I first laid eyes on St. Augustine beach and the old city, I fell in love.  And not just like “I like you, check yes or no”, type high school love.  Not the type of love like “Man, I love donuts!”  I’m talking, like you’ve just stumbled upon a missing piece of your life you never knew about and suddenly feel completely whole, type of love.  The type of love that sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel like anything is possible.  The type of love that feels like THIS is what you were made for.  The type of love that welcomes you home. THAT love.

It was like I had stepped back in time.  The bay is lined with a beautiful old city coastal skyline with deep historical roots running in every direction.  You have the Spanish influence, early settlers, pirates and native Americans.  Every where you turned in down town, there was more to see and I was stunned into a state of awe with the beauty of it all.

The beach was equally as amazing but in a different way.  It was clean and not crowded at all.  I watched our boys play in the waves as they crashed onto the beach and spread their fingers along the sand before rolling back out to the skyline. I observed the smiles as Owen & Noah ran up and down the shore, mesh bags in tow, looking for just the right shell to take home.  And for the first time in my life, I felt a sense of peace that grew inside and flowed all the way down to my toes as they felt the sand beneath my feet. But with that peace there was also a sting of sadness of knowing this was all temporary.  Why did it have to be so fleeting??

Our first trip to St. Augustine went so fast that we didn’t even get to do half of the things there were to do and left us longing for “next time” even as we headed north, back to Tennesseee.

It would be a couple of years before we could make it back and when we decided that we were going for a 2nd time, I was elated.  Our first visit to St. Augustine, several years earlier, left me so much deeper in love with the city then I initially realized.  Sure, I had been to the beach before and seen similar sites.  But there is a magic that resides over St. Augustine, Florida that is completely unrivaled by any other beach I’ve ever been to within the U.S.  I simply could not believe how lucky I was to not only go once but to be able to go BACK for a second time??

So we booked our trip and went again and it was like coming home.

We got to see the areas that we didn’t get to the first visit.  The same magic was duplicated on the beach as we watched turtles make their way over sand dunes, boats anchoring in the distance, and some of the most beautiful storms roll over the water that were so sculpted that you couldn’t help but imagine God, himself, shaping each cloud.  To say we were in our element was putting it mildly.  We had found a place that pulled us to it like a magnet and coated us with a sense of purpose we had yet to experience, as a family.

On one particular day, in the old city, we were taking the trolley (or the “Charlie” as Noah used to call it) around the Plaza de la Constitucion.  Its a beautiful central park at the foot of the Bridge of Lions.  Noah’s head was sleep against my shoulder.  Owen and Tim were on the other side of the trolley, people watching.  And as we rounded the sides of the park, I could see people with their dogs, walking.  There was a couple laying on a blanket, talking.  One person was propped up against a street, reading a book.  And at that moment, it dawned on me.  These people weren’t tourists, they LIVED here.  And I envied them for it.  In that instance, all I wanted to do was be them. I wanted to be reading that book, laying on that blanket, next to the bridge of lions. And why shouldn’t that be me?  Better yet, why COULDN’T that be me?

I didn’t mention any of this to Tim because by the time we packed up our Airbnb condo and were loading the car, I had brushed the entire idea off as wishful thinking. It was too absurd , too outrageous, too risky.  We could never leave Tennessee, our family, our friends, our church. No way.  No how.  Until…..Tim turned to me in the parking lot of Beacher’s Lodge and said “What if we just moved here?”

My initial reaction was that he was out of his mind.  But then I thought back to the park, the blanket, the dogs, the books.  I remembered the serenity of the waves, the peace of belonging and the ease of which this place felt like home.  And so I turned back to him and said “Ok, let’s do it!”

And so we began writing our “Next Chapter”.

I am a forgotten one,

Not just simply overlooked.

The forgotten ones who were there once

Have been crossed from the books.

Forgotten ones once made an impact,

Made a ripple in life’s great sea,

But the waves have since silenced

As forgotten ones tend to be.

Oh, To be one that is remembered

to have people listen as you speak,

To capture the rooms attention,

To be vibrant and not bleak.

I was in a remembered place, once

But it’s since slipped through my fingers

And while I am no longer seen

The feel of remembrance still lingers

Yes, I am a forgotten one

And there are others just like me.

The voice behind the curtain.

The whistle through the trees.

We’re here and yet we’re not

We’re heard and not seen

We are the forgotten ones

The ones who used to be…

 

I just finished reading Gone Girl.  First, I’d like to start with the fact that I apparently started this book on Audio, some time ago, got through the first couple of chapters and the book had to be returned to the library and I wasn’t able to renew it.  I didn’t realize this until I attempted it again.  I had totally forgotten about it all together, so I obviously wasn’t on the edge of my seat.

I think my problem with this book is the fact that I saw the movie first.  This ruined the book experience for me by taking away the suspense.  I knew what was around the corner, so I wasn’t left hanging much.

But beside from that, overall, it is a pretty good read.  I really enjoy the dual story telling so that the read gets the plot, as it develops, from both sides.  However, very few, if any, of these characters are likable.  I found myself siding with the sociopath the most.  (Not sure what that says about me).

One part that I felt like didn’t really mesh with the rest of the book begins around page 92 with the introduction of Stucks and the “Blue Book Boys”.  I found the whole plot line with the Blue Book Boys Gang utterly ridiculous and juvenile. It’s like Gillian Flynn turned her manuscript in to her editor and they said “Now, we need you to add 10 more pages” and so she went back and put this little jewel in.  This is one aspect of the story that I am glad they left out of the movie.  The did in the movie what should have been done in the book and that was just show the cops going and checking out the empty mall themselves.  The whole part where Nick and three guys names Stucks, Mickey and Joe (not to mention Amy’s father) get into the back of a pick up at midnight, with baseball bats to “go get some Blue Book Boys” who they believe have information about Amy, let me checking the cover of the book to see if I was readying an adult novel or if I had accidently picked up a copy of the Hardy Boys Mysteries.

But besides the whole ridiculousness of The Blue Book Boy Gang, the book flowed nicely.  As I mentioned before, I found myself siding with Amy most of the time.  I mean, your husband who was so charming and sweet and romantic towards you in the beginning becomes distant, rude, angry and self absorbed as soon as you get married.  I mean, the book begins on their 5th wedding anniversary.  FIFTH.  If it is so bad that early in the relationship, why even bother?  I would be pissed too, though, if my husband confided more in his twin sister then he did me and was cheating on my for over a year and then wondered around, after my disappearance, essentially just shrugging and being like “eh, what can you do?”  The husband character, Nick, is so unlikable with his complete lack of emotion that its difficult to even remotely empathize with him.  I mean, at least shed a tear! Your wife is MISSING!

And then there is the twin sister, Margot. or “Go” as she is referred to in the book.  Every time her name comes up, it makes me cringe about as much as the Blue Books.

I found Amy’s attention to detail in her set up completely fascinating.  Sure, she’s crazy, but she was also brilliant.  Which left me with a few lingering question.  Would she have gone back to Nick had she not been robbed? She seemed to be enjoying her freedom.  Or was she just simply intrigued since he seemed to be stepping up his game in the Chess match that is their marriage.  Was Nick ever remorseful of any of it? Or was he simply the thief who is not sorry he stole but that he got caught?  Is Amy now stuck with her BFF Noelle Hawthorne now that she’s back? I mean, that girl is CLINGY.

All in all, on a scale of 1 to National Book Award winner, I would recommend this read.  Don’t let me review jade your opinion.  Like I said, my experience with this book was tainted by the movie.  It’s a good book, about a bunch of crazy people who are out for revenge against each other and call it “Marriage”.  Honey, marriage is not that much work.  Had Amy and Nick already had kids, they’d know.  Ain’t nobody got time to frame people for murder, when you’ve got kids.