So yes, I call it a hiatus, but that’s not exactly what
happened.
Here’s what happened: abject poverty. Yeah, things just got
real.
Well, long story short, last year we decided to move to
North Carolina. My husband was going to work for his dad, who lives in
Charlotte and runs a remodeling business. It looked promising. Everything was
coming up roses.
Our little corner of NC. |
Apparently we forgot that the construction business is
seriously unpredictable in the best of times, and everyone knows that these are
not the best of times.
A few days after we moved to Charlotte, I found out I was
pregnant. It was scary sometimes, feeling that baby roll around contentedly in
my belly, and not knowing where we were going to live when he was born.
Sometimes we didn’t even know what we were going to eat the next day. So yeah,
you can bet that having a reliable Internet connection wasn’t high on the
priority list.
But in all of that there was peace. Peace because we knew
that Heavenly Father had a plan for our family and was aware of our struggles.
Peace because of our sweet family in Charlotte who banded together to help each
other in times of need. Peace because North Carolina is an incredibly beautiful
place. I mean really, I’m a native Oregonian and I was astounded sometimes at
all the green I saw in North Carolina.
There was a tiny Baptist church down the little road
from where we lived in the town of Waxhaw, just south of Charlotte. If it
wasn’t too humid and I felt well (this last pregnancy was harder on me,
probably because I’m so out of shape due to my old lady back), I would take
Hound Dog out for a walk to the playground there. One day I was pushing him on
the swing and gazing at the green all around me. The grass under my feet, the
taller grass in the pasture beyond the fence, the bamboo stand that grew past
that, and the trees above us. Trees so green they seemed to shimmer like
peacock feathers. And I knew that if we had never taken the risk and come to
North Carolina, I would never have seen what I was seeing then. And just like
that, I found myself singing, “Count Your Blessings,” while my son giggled in
his swing.
Hound Dog meets Bubba, love at first sight. |
Our second son, who shall henceforth be known as “Bubba” for
blog purposes, was born in Charlotte. His real name means “God is gracious,”
because even in what might seem to others like dire circumstances,
we knew that we were being cared for by a loving Parent, and we knew that good
things would come our way. And they have.
I am forever grateful for Waxhaw, North Carolina and the
lessons we learned while we were there. I hope to pass some of that gratitude
along on here.
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