Home again.

It seems that the older I get, the faster time goes by. I don't know if it's the nature of my job that makes weeks feel like days when suddenly I'm staring at my October calendar, or if this is just a regular occurrence once you reach the "carefree years" of your early twenties (which I'm not sure I ever embraced). All I know is that the faster time goes, the more I question what I'm doing with my life. 

I'm into my second year in a corporate position, running a chunk of business for a company, and wondering what I did for the past year. Did I make any difference, anywhere? I taught people how to make coffee. I hope I encouraged people. I know I was hard on others and myself. But beyond that, the whole year is a blur with flashes of memories, but not many. I don't want this year to be like that. 

My amazing husband and I moved back to Kentucky 2 weeks ago. We're living with my parents and 1 younger brother. I'm working my same job and he's starting a new one. And I'm excited about all of it. 

So far, living with my parents has been incredible. They love having us, and we love being able to help them in their busy lives. We're also all gone so much that we never feel like we're stepping on anyone's toes. We're with family again, and after being gone for a year it's soothing to my soul to be this close to them. 

Ryan's job is wonderful. He's excited about life again. He's full of energy and personality, eager to get involved in things and be with people. I attribute all of that to being back in Kentucky (medicine to his creative soul), and having a job that he earned and makes him a provider. He's been studying for his Health and Life Insurance state exams that are Tuesday, and I think he's going to do great. 

We're already part of a small group and meeting people. We're grabbing coffee and making connections and growing, and loving every minute of it. 

I've fussed a lot this week about the challenges I have with working so far from the office and in a corporation, but the truth is, Ryan and I both feel like we're exactly where we're supposed to be right now. We feel like a weight has been lifted off our chests, and we're closer than ever. These are the times that I wish life would slow down so we could enjoy all of it. This year will be different, and it will be big. I'm excited to see where it leads.

Coming home.

Our decision to move home has come with so many mixed emotions. Though I'm keeping my job, I'm already missing my coworkers. I'm missing the flurry of the office more than I expected, and I think working from home will come with just as many stressors as working in the office. I'm torn between excitement and stress. 

Other people seem to have mixed emotions, too. When we talk about moving back to Richmond, you can see the mixture of disappointment and irritation. It's odd, really. We like Richmond. We miss our families and being close to them. We miss Vineyard and feel drawn to come back. We're excited to live near our nieces and nephews. We're excited to buy our first house and make a home. Why does it matter if we choose to make all that happen in Richmond? Why does it matter to anyone other than us at all? 

We're starting our drive on Thursday, and we still have so much to do. Thankfully, Ryan's last day at work was Friday, so he's going to continue to be superman and finish the rest of the packing and cleaning. My last day in the office is Wednesday, and I'm going to start working from home on Friday. Pray for us as we journey back across the country! We're prayerful for a peaceful day with no car issues and good driving weather!

Update!

It's been a while, and big things are happening, so here's the update!

After months of prayer and late night discussions, Ryan and I decided we wanted to move home to Kentucky. It's no secret to anyone that we've been homesick. It's a time in our lives when all of our friends & family are getting married and starting their own families, and we hate missing out on it. So I plucked up my courage, over a 2 week course of procrastination, and sat down with my boss to submit my 2 weeks notice. But! After numerous conversations with bosses and Human Resources, we've decided that rather than an official two weeks, I'll be working remotely from Kentucky for a period of time. Hallelujah! This will basically go on until I find someone to take my place or find a job in Kentucky. I will keep traveling as normal, but now Ryan will get to be with friends and family while I'm gone, and I will be coming "home-home" on the weekends. We are thrilled. Thank you, Jesus for providing.

We're looking for apartments/houses, but until we find one we like we'll be staying with my parents- which will be so great for a short period of time after being gone for a year.

So, short update, but there it is! Be praying for us as we look for a home and as Ryan searches for a job. :)

Vulnerability is for the birds.

I'm in the middle of reading Daring Greatly by Dr. Brene Brown. It was recommended by a friend, and I'm loving it. If we're being technical, I'm not even in the middle of it. I keep reading a section, needing to stop and process, writing, sometimes re-reading, and then continuing on. The book is about the necessity of vulnerability in our lives, and the lack thereof in our culture. Since I'm still reading, I obviously can't give you a comprehensive review of the book, but I can tell you that what it's already doing in my heart is amazing, and here is what I'm working with so far:

1. Vulnerability: adjective

• capable of or susceptible to being wounded or hurt, as by a weapon: a vulnerable part of the body.
• open to moral attack, criticism, temptation, etc.: an argument vulnerable to refutation; He is vulnerable to bribery.
• (of a place) open to assault; difficult to defend: a vulnerable bridge.

Let's start with the very basic. It never occurred to me that being vulnerable is something I struggled with. Reading the definitions listed above, I'm sure it's been quite obvious to everyone around me, but it just never occurred to me. But everything listed above is something I reject.I tend to shy away from vulnerability in the work place, with my family, and with my husband. I hate it. I would rather internalize everything, fix it on my own, and move forward with my life thinking everything is perfect. My vulnerability is so bottled up that, 3 years of marriage later, I still cry through conversations while trying to express my heart to my husband. It's exhausting and a struggle for me. Sounds a little messy, yeah?

2. While I'm reading I've been thinking about the very essential, core group of people in my life and what I love about them. I even listed out the characteristics on paper. One things that they all have in common, that makes them so endearing to me, is that all of them are unashamed of their vulnerability. They own their struggles, they are open about them and encourage others, they ask for help. Do I consider them weak for this? No. I respect it. I always have. I'm drawn to it and wish I could be more like them. So why do I believe the lie that says vulnerability is a weakness? Is something to be ashamed of? Yep. Processing.

3. There isn't an instant fix. Which I hate. I can't turn a button, pin point one thing to change in my character that will magically correct all this. But I also can't hide from it without damaging relationships with those that matter most to me. It's a little bit like a slap in the face, if I'm being honest. But the book is good, and one chapter in I'm crying and searching for therapists online because I'm convinced I'm the only person in the world dealing with this, and that Brene must have been given a vision from God to write this just for me. The drama in my life is unbearable, I know.

4. Something I'm still grasping with is this concept that another concept tied to all of this is Pride. It's okay for someone else to be vulnerable, and that I respect and love them for it, but it's not okay for me. I have to be perfect. Does this mean I think I'm better than them, and have to live to a higher standard? That's not what is in my heart, but that doesn't matter if it is interpreted as pride.

I've learned that it's much easier for me to process all this vulnerability chatter if I'm writing at the same time. When I hit a particularly tough section in the book that strikes my heart, I take a minute to write down what and why it's affecting me, and then I can continue to read. I think I might have a whole journal on vulnerability by the time I'm done with this book.

So far everything I've touched on has been the extreme surface of vulnerability. I'm still on the shallow end of the pool. What are your thoughts? Is the art of being vulnerable something you struggle with?

A Look Back

Last week I celebrated 1 year of being in Texas and working in the corporate office. I don't think I will ever be able to explain everything that this past year has been for us, but I'm going to break down a few major milestones: 

Marriage: In the past year I have traveled just as much as I've actually been in Texas. Ryan and I knew when I took the position that it would be travel intensive, but in my excitement to grow and move forward I naively underestimated the toll that a travel based job can have on a marriage, or any relationship. It's hard. And while I don't believe that a woman has to be the homemaker while the man works in a marriage, I now firmly believe that a wife having the travel job brings a whole different dynamic to a marriage than when a husband is the traveler. My husband has been amazing. He has been my rock, holding down the home while I'm on the road, doing all the laundry and most of the meals, and never complaining that I'm gone or making me feel guilty for uprooting us to move somewhere new and then being gone for half the time. He has done nothing but encourage and nurture me. No matter where our lives go from here, I will forever be in awe of this man I married. He shows me every day what it is to put yourself aside and the other person first. 

Work: It has been one of the hardest lessons I've learned, but I'm finally starting to separate my identity from my job. I will be a workaholic if I have the opportunity, especially in an industry like coffee, where your colleagues become your family. It's so easy for these lives to blend together, and while it's wonderful at first because you have love everything in your life, the lines quickly become so blurred that you never feel at home and have trouble focusing on anything. I don't know if I explained that well, but that's what happened with me. A mistake at work immediately feels like a failure in life, and an issue at home prevents me from doing well at work. Boundaries are eliminated, sleep disappears and it all takes a toll on the relationships in my life. Like most people, I want to do work that matters. I want to do well in my job. I want to make the world better. But when I start defining myself by standards placed on me by outside forces, and by myself, my world crumbles. I'm learning to leave work at work. To turn my Blackberry off before I enter my home, or even leave it in the car. It seems like a small thing, but it is a way of mentally keeping that world out of my home, and equally, keeping that stress from infiltrating my home. Some people are able to do this without something silly like hiding a Blackberry, but I'm not. And that has to be okay with me. 

Myself: Tying in with both my marriage and my work, this has been a huge year of learning grace. Ryan never complained about us moving to Texas, but in the midst of all my travel and work I was wracked with guilt that I had uprooted us. He had a much harder time adjusting than I did, and I didn't know how to fix that while I was gone all the time. And while I was learning a new job, on a much larger scale than I had ever experienced, there was no room for failure in my mind. I think this is normal for most people- no one wants to fail, but the issue comes with your definition of failure. My definition of failure quickly became anything other than perfection, and when you're, say, learning how to make a budget on the scale of 70 cafes, this is impossible. So I learn to breathe through the anxiety, do the best I can, ask so many questions and admit when I have messed something up. It's hard, it hurts, and it is my least favorite thing. But it's making a difference in every area of my life. 

Family: I miss my family more than I can express. I hate that I'm missing out on Josiah's wee-ball games, or Stella saying her first words, or my name-to-soon-be-revealed-niece's birth. I remember growing up far away from aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents, and I never liked it. So I'm also learning to take time off and take deliberate vacations, planned very far in advance. 26 days. 

This year has forever changed my life, and my marriage, just as I suspected it would. I just never expected how everything would change. I'm pretty excited to see what the next year has in store. 

May!?

Can you believe it is already May? Of 2013? I'm still blown away by it. So much has happened in the past year. Ryan and I moved to Texas, we celebrated our 3rd wedding anniversary, Ryan turned 25(!) and in two short weeks we'll have another niece. Life is moving fast. So fast that it makes me nervous, as much as I love it.

This short little blip of a blog post is just to ask for prayers (from whoever reads this) for my little family as we face big decisions together. We pray for wisdom and rely on the reassurance of constant grace.

Community (also what will probably be the longest blog post ever....sorry!)

I've been so looking forward to blogging about my trip to Boston, but after the tragedy of the past week I just haven't been able to bring myself to do it until now. 

A few of you know that last weekend I had the pleasure to go to Boston for the annual Specialty Coffee Association of America expo. Needless to say, I've been looking forward to this all year. I've had a love affair with Boston since I was in high school, but to be able to go back specifically for coffee? I can't even begin to tell you how full my heart was on our way there. To make our trip as productive as possible, my coworker and I made a couple stops on our way to Massachusetts to visit a few stores we don't get to see often (Kentucky being one of them), and you would not believe the amount of issues we had traveling. Out of 7 flights we had that week, 5 were delayed and 1 was completely rescheduled. It was slightly a nightmare, but we were so excited to make it to Boston that we took it all in stride. Alright, I may have been a little grouchy after being stuck in the Chicago airport for 7 hours-- but who wouldn't be? We finally made our final (delayed) flight from Chicago to Boston on Thursday, and I was so excited I could barely handle sitting still on the plane for 2 hours. Minutes into the flight it became apparent that we were flying with a majority of marathoners. Once we arrived at our hotel, we also realized that we were with mostly marathon runners and a few coffee people.

I am not a runner. I despise it. I hate myself 2 minutes in when I realize how out of shape I am, and then spend the next 2 days being as lazy and unhealthy as possible. It's really just better for me to be a walker. But I have immense respect for people who run; many of my friends are dedicated runners. For them it is a love of their life. It is something that helps them in more ways than physical health. It's how they release stress, process information and make decisions. It's a huge part of their lives. You couldn't speak with the marathoners in Boston without catching their contagious excitement and joy. Hearing the news on Monday about the bombings broke my heart. Domestic and foreign terrorism is always heart wrenching, and I'm certainly not saying that my heart doesn't break for the countless other shootings and bombings that have taken place. But having just come back from Boston the day before, after meeting all these wonderful people, and knowing that I still had friends in Boston, this event weighed so heavy on my heart. I cannot imagine all the lives changed on Monday, and the countless people living in Boston who had their lives disrupted this week as they lived in fear. I thank God that the people in my life made it out safely, but I still cry for those that didn't. It was a very sad and eye opening end to our otherwise wonderful weekend. 

But despite the horror of the bombs, it also reaffirmed what I was in Boston for. Coffee always has and always will be about community for me. Learning all the fun information about coffee is simply a plus. I started working in a local coffee shop the summer of my 16th birthday, and a month later my world was rocked by a personal traumatic event. The community built in that little coffee shop I worked in, with a bunch of college students that I revered and admire to this day, was healing for me that year. I believe that is what coffee culture is built for. For community, for healing, for growth. That is what this weekend was for me. We worked during the days, walking the show, talking to potential vendors about new products in the coffee world and meeting with current vendors, and we enjoyed our friends and bonded in the evenings. We grabbed drinks with our coffee friends and put our professional relationships on the back burner to catch up on our lives. We talked about work and life change, relationships and family, church and growth. After the homesickness I've been pushing off for months, it was just healing for my heart. I can't explain to you how my relationships with so many different people grew that weekend. It was such a reminder for why I am in this profession, and it came at a time when I was getting wrapped up in the work and frustrated with everything. In the midst of terror, the people of Boston came together and took care of each other. Their community is stronger than ever. People are good, God shined through the fear and I believe people are being forever changed for the better. 

(insert segue into shallow, fun details about my Boston weekend....)

Something I absolutely love about Boston is how multicultural it is every time I visit. Add to that the many, many people in town for the marathon and the coffee show, and a majority of the conversations I heard that weekend weren't even in English (or we just couldn't tell because we are so not used to awesome New England accents). I also love all the history packed into that city. We were lucky in that we got to decide out schedules and plans every day, and many of our plans included the rich history of Boston. We were able to go to a game at Fenway (Red Sox!), eat at the Union Oyster House (the oldest continuously operating restaurant in the United States) and simply walk the city. Oh, and we went to Cheers. Which was wonderful. Other than our final night in Boston, I hands down will tell you that the Red Sox game was my favorite event of the weekend. If you haven't gone to a ball game up north and watched a bunch of New England-ers get flat out drunk during a baseball game, I would daresay you have not really experienced baseball. We made many new friends that night.

My travel schedule for the next month is completely full, but none of them will be as fun, eye opening or life affirming as my Boston trip (like when I go to Wyoming on Monday...what's in Wyoming you ask? Rocks.). Thank you, God, for this job and community.