Not the life we imagined.....

 Not the life we imagined.....
I remember in the years between high school and meeting Joe, wondering if I would ever
get married or if I would ever have children. The life we live now is far from the fairy tale I
daydreamed about. And yet it is what I spent years praying for and wishing for.

I am married to a man who is my best friend, an amazing father, husband, and Christ-
follower. I have two boys who love me, who daily teach me about patience, grace,
forgiveness, faith, and adventures. Two boys who overwhelm me with love and, at times, 
frustration, sometimes within seconds of each other. I am privileged to pastor a church
that loves me and my family. Together, we are all seeking to be more Christ-like and to
do what God is calling us to. I live in a rural town that has grafted us in, even though we
are transplants with no connections. I have been privileged to be adopted into and able
to build a village around us that loves us well. We get to journey through the everyday
and the valleys and mountaintops of life, marriage, ministry, and parenting.

When you step back and look at the larger picture, we are blessed beyond measure.
When you zoom in, there are some blemishes on the picture-perfect family. My mom is
now only present in memories, pictures, traditions, and in the legacy she left behind.
My oldest son is blind. A disability that is visible with his ever-present sidekick, his white
cane, “Marshmallow.” But the invisible cell death is happening due to his Batten CLN3
Disease is the diagnosis that is harder to grapple with.

Someone recently asked if Peter attended the same preschool as Jacob is currently
attending. I said no, Peter attended preschool in South Africa, and was born there.
Their reaction was one of disbelief. Sometimes mine is too. Often, I forget about our
lives as missionaries, not intentionally, but it all seems so far removed from the life we
live now.

Recently, we sold our camper. We originally bought it to keep a promise we made to
Peter, when we sold our camper in South Africa. The promise was that we would getanother camper and keep making memories in our new home, wherever it was in the
US. The promise was made before we even knew our current hometown existed. A
promise made during our month in South Africa, packing up and saying goodbye to the
life we lived before the global pandemic changed our plans. Little did we know that our
COVID year (as we call it) would be a year of preparation for the journey to come.
Our family has fond memories of times away at our camper in South Africa. It was an
hour away from our home in the suburbs of Jo’berg. The place where we parked our
caravan had a pool, a trampoline, they sold ice cream, there was a river to hike along,
and there were even monkeys. Peter rode his bike there, flew his kite, even got to ride a
camel. Our friends came out and visited us, and we were able to unplug from our
missionary lives and relax.
Our 1986 camper in Ohio was in our price range and at a campground that reminded us
of our South African campground. We bought it with dreams of times away and
memories made in mind. Our purchase in October of 2021 found Peter beginning to
lose his vision, but no idea of his larger diagnosis. In May of the following year, a tree
crashed into our camper and into our lives. Peter was diagnosed with Batten CLN3, our son had a life expectancy of 20s, and he would lose abilities he had gained. Our family was
also growing; I was 7 months pregnant with Jacob. Our life was not what we had pictured; it
was so much more and so much harder than we could have ever imagined. But there is
also beauty in the hard. And there is freedom in the reminder from Peter and from my
mom’s death that death is a part of life.   And a reminder to live the life, the moment, in
front of you to the fullest measure. Do not live in the dream of what you thought life
would be, live the life in the moment you are in. Make the most of the moment you are
in. Sometimes the moment will be the hardest moment you've ever lived through. Some
moments will be so beautiful you struggle to describe them. Other moments will be
ordinary and mundane, but no less holy. Whatever moment you find yourself in, God is
with you, He loves you, and He is journeying with you. Make the most of the moment
you are in and look for ways to choose joy. You never know when the people who are a
part of your moments will no longer be with you. Don’t long for the life you pictured in
your daydreams…live the life you have.