Whenever I think about moving, I think of Tara Leigh Cobble’s book Here’s to Hindsight as she contemplates moving from Nashville to NYC. She talks about the importance of moving for community, and how she made sure before she packed up boxes full of all her belongings that she wanted to have a church and some friends in place—make sure she fit there.

So I’ve always held that as advice in my heart, and that’s just what this debut trip to the mitt-shaped state provided: we got to dip our toes into the pool of people there that we could someday be friends with. We hung out with Kevin and Tina and met a few of their friends (who are all really good at playing games! I’d completely forgotten about that pastime and am now dedicated to resurrecting it.) anyway, everyone was the kind of person you could meet and just jump in having a real conversation with. It was encouraging in that aspect, that we could sit around and talk about real-life kind of things and they understood and encouraged and shared their own—it was edifying, the way that relationships and connections ought to be, but are often so rare. But I think that’s a product of the community going on up there, around Mars Hill and all the local colleges that most have graduated from. Which is actually pretty remarkable.

And so I’m encouraged in that aspect and look forward to making even more friends up there when the time comes. Otherwise, the drive wasn’t bad (6 hours with a cooler stocked, courtesy of miz mal) and we blew bubbles and shared music and tried to ignore truck drivers who kept honking as we drove by. Saturday we arrived and Kevin and Tina grilled out for us and invited a friend over who came with us to the beach where we watched a storm start to roll in over the lake as high school kids jumped in off the pier. (Later, Tina’s dad would tell us about how he used to go swimming during storms and the waves would get so big that he could ride them up and they’d drop him right onto the pier landing.) we got ice-cream at a local beach joint and then went home and played a game before going to bed.

Sunday, we woke up and went to Camp Geneva’s morning service then over to Tina’s parents’ to celebrate Father’s Day with good food and a likewise good nap on the deck. (Their house is beautiful; her dad is an architect so the house has multiple decks and gardens and is my childhood dream come-true as it is full of foliage and a pond and overlooks the lake. I think of all the little imaginary stories I could have concocted with that kind of inspiration all around…) Then we wash, rinse, repeated: Wake up. Go to church (this time at Mars Hill). Eat (this time, pizza with our new friends and a healthy game of Catchphrase.)

Monday was good prospects all around (not hypothesizing on that at all, just leaving it in God’s hands, where it belongs!) and we took a tour of a really cute part of town that was full of indie restaurants and shops and the like. Definitely somewhere to check out when/if we end up there.

All that to say: Successful trip. Ready to call it home.

“I would have despaired unless I had
believed that I would see the
goodness of the LORD
In the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD;
Be strong and let your heart take courage;
Yes, wait for the LORD.”

Pslam 27:13-14

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