Lost is Found

Unlike my days back in Evanston, I have no idea what one day in Beaver will look like from one day to the next.

Other than the activities that I've set up for Harper and Zane, my day has no real rhythm to it right now. For a structured person like myself, this presents a challenge - for I KNOW it's ok not to have a routine one month in, and yet, I am also yearning to get into a groove - even if just a tiny taste of consistency.

However, this relaxed, "we'll see what comes about today" way of living has resulted in the revelation of some incredible gifts from God. For it has been through the inconsistent that I have seen the most blessing. It has been through the unknown that I have been surprised and awed.

As odd as it may sound, it took getting lost on the way to my first Mary Kay meeting, to spark the formation of a new friendship with our Youth Pastor's wife. Just take a transplant from Chicago, and a transplant from Texas, stick them in a car headed to Cranberry, and watch them meander through the turns and hills and back roads with the hard to read street signs. It's downright funny. We did arrive at the meeting, albeit 20 minutes late, and to our delight met some enthusiastic and warm-welcoming women. We've both found Beaver to be delightful, polite, friendly, and welcoming - but we were both craving a bit of "umph". One can always find "umph" to the nth degree at a Mary Kay meeting.

We ditched the back streets and took the turnpike home. A longer drive = more time to talk.

Sometimes, it takes getting lost to find something new.

The absence of a hardcore schedule everyday has enabled God to slow me down, thus giving me time to meet and actually share real conversations with the women He's chosen to plunk down right in my path. As I have nowhere to really be right now, I have had the opportunity to not only meet, but actually talk with new women in the school hallway, the school parking lot, poolside, and at gymnastics, (where although I took receipts with me to sort for my business, I opted for ditching the work in order to meet someone new).

It's almost as if I have no concept of time.

I've never experienced being able to:

• Take a 20 minute drive just to give a thank-you note to the wife of my home inspector for all her help in scheduling mold tests, and radon tests, and walk-thru's - all via phone. Meeting her face to face was delightful.
• Hang out and talk scrap booking with a new friend in town, who not only crops regularly, but forwarded me all the information about the events and connected me with a Creative Memories consultant that very day.
• Chat in the school parking lot talking with a woman I recognized as having run in a 5K that went past my house Saturday morning, (which I didn't know about - boo). Our conversation helped me learn where to read up about upcoming races and where to find $5.00 yoga classes. Yep, I said $5.00. How could I walk away from this conversation other than inspired?
• Meet and mingle with other running mom's at the pool, some long distance, some sprinters, all mom's who run regularly - one of which is starting a running club.
• Just drop the work that I brought to complete during Zane's gymnastic class in order to sit and get to know a transplant from California, whose son will be at Zane's preschool, and who I learned lives right down the street. Who knew? Well, I wouldn't have had I buried my nose in my all important receipt collating and mileage recording efforts.
• Enjoy breakfast guests from 10:00 AM to 9:00 PM. The only agenda? Sharing a meal together (which turned into lunch and dinner on top of breakfast) and getting know each other.

I pray this for my children - that they too will be surprised by the gifts of relationships that God places on their paths. Especially for Zane, who is "lonely" - even though he plays with children all day. I pray that He would find a buddy with whom he can connect - just like back in Evanston. I trust God will do this, and I know he delights in giving us good gifts.

Sometimes, we just have to slow down in order to truly take a good look at the packages, unwrap them, and enjoy them before moving on to the next beautifully wrapped package. Many times we're just too impatient - so we flit from gift to gift. Currently, I've got nowhere else to be. My datebook is empty, and as I find myself without plans for tomorrow, I leave myself open to God placing more surprises in my path.

He certainly likes watching me bump into the the plans he has for me . . .

If Boo Lived In Beaver

If Boo Radley lived in our town, he'd live here.

This evening, we learned that a house for sale up the street which is deserted and unlocked had seen many private viewings by those in the neighborhood, due to its uninhibited access. The house, built just after the turn of the century (not this one) has 13 rooms, and was probably something to boast about 100 years ago. Not so, today.

Sadly, this place, which no doubt was quite the gem in its day as evidenced by some beautiful stained glass and unbelievable wood moldings, has been left to decay. The house which at some point was divided into 3 apartments was just littered with forgotten belongings.

Strewn about the place were old records, antique buttons, a few stuffed toys, various pieces of furniture, tired and worn curtains, and even a few handbags which looked to be quite ancient, although I was afraid to touch anything to make certain. The road map of the place could cause anyone to get lost, and doors opening to dark descents lead down to what I could only assume were the old servants quarters (very Upstairs, Downstairs).

So what do you do when you have just moved to a new town, to which your son is still getting adjusted, it's getting to be dusk, and the neighbors mention that the door to the place is unlocked?

You do what any responsible parent would do and take your children, and some neighborhood children who have befriended your children and who have already seen the inside of the place and swear that it's haunted, as they once saw a used pickle jar levitating in one of the three kitchens, into the house.

Duh.

You impress upon your children not to fall into any holes, or put their hands through the walls (for you could see through from room to room in some places), or to touch anything. Most importantly, you make sure you've got every child accounted for at all times. You clutch your son's hand who repeatedly states that the joint is creepy, while trying to dispel the haunted house rantings of the other neighborhood kids who are still going on and on about the levitating pickle jar.

For the remainder of our evening, Zane talked and talked about the "mystery house" and how he never wanted to visit it again.

Hey, we do adventure around here, and tonight, this was one. We paid for it with some bedtime issues, and in fact, I just halted production of this post for a bit as Zane woke up screaming in fear. Both kids are sleeping in their rooms with lights on and doors open.

Really patting myself on the back for this one.

I'm bringing my Mom to see the place tomorrow. She will be awed by the old house. It is a shame that it has gone the road of disrepair. It needs someone with a ton of dough to come and save it. I hate to see such a historic structure wither and fade and would have loved to see it back in its day.

Harper and Zane, however, never want to step foot inside of it, or around it, or north, south, east, or west of it ever again. Whether day or night.

The whole episode felt very movie-like to me.

My kids just haven't seen those movies. Yet.