Upperline

This weekend we walked through our empty apartment for the final time, sat on Ramsey's couch and ate chocolate and drove away from the place no longer tenants. There are lots of exciting things about this: we are homeowners, we have a bedroom for Baby Brick, and we have lots more room to entertain. However, after a ride to our new home, I found my eyes filled with tears. I'm really going to miss that old apartment. Sure, it wasn't the fanciest apartment, and it had its quirks, including but not limited to: uneven floors that showed the ground below in some places, kitchen cabinet doors that were almost off the hinges, an unfortunate number. of nail holes in the walls from previous tenants, and windows that allowed vines to grow into our bathroom. In spite of all this, I find myself filled with gratitude for the nearly three years this apartment on Upperline served as the Brick House. Here are a few things we learned:

1. We learned how to be a family

We spent three of our first four years of marriage in this place. I remember being so excited when we moved in to have a place to set up our bedroom and a real kitchen table. We moved from a 300-square-foot apartment into this spacious one-bedroom shotgun double. Looking back I can't help but thank God for the kitchen I really learned to cook in. For the dinners we had at that table, recounting our days and learning so much about each other. For the late night talks in that bedroom, the ones we spent in desperation trying to solve some problem or resolve some conflict. For the early mornings when we learned one another's routines. What a blessing to have had a sense of consistency of place for our family during a season full of so much change!

2. We learned how to build community

Matt found our apartment when he got involved in a community service project, helping coordinate the volunteer effort to build a playground at our neighborhood park. We got to know Ramsey, our landlord, during the process of organizing the event and moved in shortly after. Little did we know at the time what an impact this man or this block would have on our lives. Ramsey is this unique kind of guy who knows a little about everything! He can relate to nearly anyone in any situation and we began to watch the way he interacted with so many neighbors. He always made each person he was talking to feel like they were the most interesting person he'd encountered. Some might call this being a good schmoozer or a politician, but those people don't know Ramsey. As we watched and learned from Ramsey's example and began to porch sit regularly and attend barbecues, we got to know interesting neighbors as Caitlin and Karen and Haché and Ed and Dave and Marie and Myrt and Lana and Alex and Marjorie. Then, in August of last year, we had the chance to put into practice some of what we'd been learning. Hurricane Isaac knocked us out of power for several days and we got to be part of a community weathering a storm together (eating red beans heated over our gas stove by candlelight) and picking up the pieces after (like the gutter and shingles and tree limbs we cleared from our little yard). My prayer is now for our new neighborhood, that we'd meet fun new neighbors and continue to put into practice what we learned from our little block of Upperline. 

3. We learned how to live in a city

We dealt with street parking and Mardi Gras traffic. We threw Spring crawfish boils and deep fried Thanksgiving Turkeys and watch movies on a blow-up big screen with neighbors in our park. We walked to our favorite restaurants and coffee shops. When we were feeling really brave we walked to Rouse's or Whole Foods. Matt fell in love with public transportation and I enjoyed the excitement of taking the streetcar to work on summer mornings. We learned how to utilize small spaces and get rid of unnecessary 'stuff' (disclaimer: I'm still learning). For two kids who grew up outside of an urban context, we have pretty quickly learn to adapt and absolutely love the noise and proximity of city living. 

4. We learned how to love a space

This might seem like a strange idea, loving a space, but what I mean is this: we learned to appreciate the beauty of our home, even if the aesthetics were less than perfect. I'll miss that piece of tile in the kitchen that was loose. I will miss the dented wood floors in the bedroom that I despised at first. I will miss my tiny navy blue kitchen and that annoying cabinet door that would almost fall off whenever it was opened. Why? Because for a very meaningful season of our lives, that was our home, our place. That was the place we danced to Jazz music and laughed a lot and cried and grilled out and slept together. That was the place we hosted friends and neighbors and anyone who would come in. We learned so much in those four rooms, and I will never drive by that little yellow house without smiling. 

So, thanks Upperline, for the memories. We Bricks love you and are so thankful for what time in your walls taught us. We're praying now for your next tenants, that they would love and appreciate you for what you are: a home, a really great one. 

Thanks in All Things

A few weeks ago Matt indulged my inner bookworm and ordered me two books by Shauna Neiquist, an author, blogger and woman I've admired for years. The books were titled Bittersweet and Bread and Wine. Bittersweet is a collection of her essays and thoughts on life's challenges and hard times and Bread and Wine includes stories and recipes and encouragement to be hospitable. I might focus on Bread and Wine in another post, but I've had some initial reflections from Bittersweet rolling around in my head for too long now, so I've got to share.

One of the memorable lines that has provoked much pondering in my own life pretty much sums up the book:"...a life of nothing but sweetness rots both your teeth and your soul. Sweet is nice enough, but bittersweet is beautiful, nuanced, full of depth and complexity" 

I  think one of the reasons Bittersweet touched me so deeply is that for the past several months I have been feeling a season of bitterness. I say 'feeling' because the actual depth of the difficulty or bitterness of the season may not appear to be especially great to a bystander - mostly safe and happy family, sweet friends, an encouraging husband, a Baby Brick growing inside me. However, I've felt more angst and struggle in these past months than any other season in my life (blessed my life has been!) Anyone who works in public accounting knows that busy season is brutal. It is a physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually draining season. This year was my first year in the role of 'in charge'. It was the first time I was asked to lead a team, teach and train staff, manage a budget, meet client deadlines and also balance executive expectations. The work is challenging and the hours are demanding. At the end of each day, I felt keenly aware of the reality that someone's expectations of me had not been met. On same days, it was my friends or family or husband because I wasn't available to them. On other days, it was my bosses, because I didn't deliver excellent work. And often times, it was me, because I felt frazzled and stretched far beyond my abilities. 

As the season ended, I expected to feel a sense of relief and joy. Surprisingly, I found myself feeling bitter, angry that it had been so hard, frustrated that I didn't manage it better, and really just kind of ticked that I felt like I was navigating these emotions alone, without feeling the presence of the Lord guiding me through. I sometimes wonder if other people go through these same emotions, or if I'm a lone crazy wolf refusing to accept grace and goodness in front of me. Anyway, in the midst of my post-busy season blues, I read this book,and was able to pinpoint part of the reason for my dissatisfaction. Shauna shared the following insight into her own life: "If I'm honest, I prayed the way you order breakfast from the short order cook: this is what I want. Period...I didn't pray for God's will to be done in my life, or, at any rate, I didn't mean it. I prayed to be rescued, not redeemed. I prayed for it to get easier, not that I would be shaped in significant ways. I prayed for the waiting to be over, instead of trying to learn something about patience our anything else for that matter."

Praying for what I want? Guilty. Praying to be rescued? Yep. Praying for it to get easier? to be over sooner? Check and check.

No wonder my attitude at the end of the journey I'd been on was so off! I had been missing the point the whole time, so consumed with myself and my personal satisfaction and comfort in the situation that I couldn't see all the opportunities for grace and peace and growth before me. Just like this author who shared her heart and journey through the most difficult season in her life, I was beginning to see how my own actions and attitudes had caused more pain and frustration in the end. 

I went to the book of the Bible I start with when I haven't opened it in a while, when I'm not sure where to go - the book of James. I think it has become habit since I started reading James more regularly a few years ago when my Maymee told me it was her favorite book. (If you knew my Maymee, you loved her and you'd read James regularly, too, just so you could learn to be an example like her.) Anyway, innocently enough, I turned to James and came to James 1:2-4, which says "Count it all joy, my  brothers, when you face trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing." The tears of my heart flowed as I realized that in my bitterness and frustration, I'd nearly missed out on the gift - the character and growth that come as a result of going through a trial. I won't say that I am not looking forward to a season of calm and work in life that are currently upon me, but I can say today that I am thankful for opportunities to grow in faith and steadfastness, even if the journey itself isn't pretty. I'm praying that the next difficult season I am met with will see a different response from me.

So friends, I'll leave you with this: if you are going through a hard time, a dark season, a period of bitterness in your life, don't do what I did. Don't lose sight of the point. Don't become overwhelmed. I'm thankful tonight for a loving Lord who showed me grace and the gift of my season, even if it was a few months after the fact. 

In closing, I'll let Shauna's words speak to you as they did to me Be encouraged, friends: 

"...when life is sweet say thank you and celebrate. And when life is bitter, say thank you and grow."