Monday, May 24, 2010


I just got home from Small Group, and as usual, instead of curling up in bed, I'm all amped up on chocolate cake, caffeine, and awesome conversations. I can't describe it--there is just something so therapeutic about talking to the girls in my small group. It's just the one atmosphere where I feel like everyone is being their pure selves. We laugh with each other, get teary-eyed from time to time, share our triumphs and our failures.

It occurred to me yesterday how much moving to this new house has changed our lives. If Clint and I had stayed in Silverlakes, not only would I still be making that long drive to work, but we would still be living far away from Clint's parents, who have become such an integral part of my kids' lives. But there's even more than that. A couple of years ago, Clint was having health issues, to the point where he was going to the emergency room on a nearly biweekly basis due to panic attacks and chest pains. At that time, the doctor told Clint that if he didn't get serious about his health, he would be a likely candidate for a heart attack in a decade or so. It wasn't until we moved into our new house that we discovered the dojo only a couple blocks away, and on an impulse, Clint decided to join kickboxing. Clint's blossoming interest in kickboxing last year consumed his free time, and without a second thought he gave up his addiction to World of Warcraft without ever looking back. He has not been on the game ONCE since we moved, which not only speaks volumes if you know anything about the addictive quality of that game, but has seriously changed Clint's life. He has replaced what used to be hours upon hours of sitting with activities that require moving around. Even when he's not kickboxing, he's constantly on his feet, tinkering with something. The most pronounced testament to all of this though occurred three days ago. Clint went to the doctor's for a physical, and although he is still not at his ideal weight, for the first time in his life, he has low--not medium, but LOW--blood pressure, and he is as healthy as a horse. All because of a chain of events that was initiated by our move.

But the most meaningful thing to me that stands out about moving is our small group. When we were in escrow for our house, we went to this event at our church called "The Gathering," and that was where we proceeded to meet three other couples who would eventually become amongst the closest friends I've ever had. I still remember that when we first arrived, a lady asked us what table we wanted to sit at, and we figured that being thirty years old, we were too old for the "young married couple" table, so we just headed for the regular "married couple" table. We were about half way there when we changed our minds at the last second, and made a U-Turn for the young married table. It turned out that, with the exception of Matt and Alana, everyone at that table was actually our age or older. I guess thirty is still "young." Anyway, for the next several weeks of the Gathering (which was just a series of fun dinners, get-to-know-you activities, etc.), Clint and I had to drive all the way from Silverlakes. But we told ourselves it was worth it, because we knew as soon as escrow closed on our home, the situation would change. One thing led to another and the eight of us at that table formed a small group that has met every-other week for nearly a year-and-a-half now. We also do the occasional outing with the group as well; we went to Huntington Beach last summer, we went geocaching with Matt and Alana, and now we're planning a camping trip. This group has come to mean so much to me, and we would have never made these friendships if we had stayed in that house in Silverlakes.

I honestly think that things happen for a reason. If we hadn't have moved, the kids wouldn't be reaping the physical benefits of being in karate, they wouldn't be attending Kingston with its wonderful GATE program, Trinity wouldn't have her "best friends in the world" that spend the night over summers, I would live too far away to EVER see my sis, Teri couldn't just drop by unannounced (which, believe it or not, is something that I actually like), I couldn't just drop by my classroom to pick up something that I forgot, and the list goes on and on. These are all little things of course, but they add up. When we lived in Silverlakes, I used to optimistically convince myself that it was a great place to live. But it's different here. I don't have to convince myself of anything. There is this feeling of conviction that we are exactly where we are supposed to be, that this is home.


  1. Strange, when we got stationed in washington, I moved away from the one and only male friend I had who was still down here in Sandy Eggo. It was a playstation online game that kept us connected and my only source of social interaction outside of wife for 3 1/2 years. She had even pushed me to spend time playing as to have people to interact with. I to put on about 30-40 lbs. My height, in addition to allowing me to assist gaint, fire-breathing lizards razing japanesse cities also allowed me to keep that weight hidden until the last moment.
    Yea, theres nothing like having someone wearing a stethascope who works in a building that has a morge tell you your current lifestyle could make you living impaired to really light a fire. If he wants to he can come down here and help me strip these popcorn ceilings =)

  2. It is so strange, 'cause you and I both thought Silver Lakes would be "home." Our parents lived there, and we lived right across the street from one another. It SHOULD have felt like home. And yet we never intergrated with the community, and we always felt like tentants because of the stupid association. I feel as if Crestline is truly my home, so I can understand how you feel.


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