It was 1999.  The cusp of Y2K and there weren’t many discussions that didn’t involve whether or not the world was going to end.  Prince’s song 1999 was making a comeback, the Back Street Boys and Brittany Spears were in their prime. The movie Matrix was released and Who Wants to be a Millionaire played in most homes in the evening.  It was a time for cargo pants platform shoes, metallic fabric and anything that seemed futuristic, thanks to Y2K. 

And then there was us…

Iowa.

The home of tall corn stalks, big deer, beautiful night skies and lightening bugs.

I honestly never thought I’d be back.  I am a Southern born and bred girl, I love the sunshine and the ocean, what in the world was I doing in the Midwest?   Jeff, on the other hand, was so excited if not a bit nervous, to start this new position.

I still vividly remember driving into Cedar Rapids that very first time.  Back then it was home to the Quaker Oats factory and the whole place smelled like a big bowl of cereal.  Jeff was in front of me in the Ryder truck, Abbie and Christian still riding in the front seat beside him, while Travis and I followed in the green van.  I was an emotional wreck having left all I loved behind, but I was also curious (I’m not sure I would call it excited) about what lie ahead.   We had already decided to rent, not buy, a house right away, we wanted to get a feel for the area. The fact that our home in Alabama had not sold (it was under contract) was a loose end but didn’t really affect the plans we already had in place.  Abbie was to start kindergarten that fall and we wanted to be in a good school district.  Isn’t that so typical?  As a young parent, you think about things like schools and other children to play with that live nearby, parks, all that stuff.   The rental was small, the kids all shared one room, but it was adequate for our first few months.

What I didn’t know when we pulled into the driveway for the very first time was that I was about to enter some of the loneliest days of my life.  It was a time of growth and figuring out how to be established in a place where there was nothing to hold onto except Jesus.  I would tell you now, all these years later, that it was so good for us, but at the time it all felt really hard.

Moving away from everything familiar, I felt vulnerable and inadequate.  There were expectations, and we laid awake many nights wondering if we were up for the challenge.  Oh, we wanted to be, but sometimes our hopes fall short of reality. 

When we arrived at our rental, there were church folks there to help us unload.  It was tricky because we knew this was a temporary situation; how much do you unpack?  Where do you store the extra stuff? It was May, if I recall correctly, so it wasn’t super-hot in Iowa yet, and the nights were perfectly comfortable.  I remember the first time I walked outside to look up at the sky, I was mesmerized. It was the most beautiful night sky I’d ever seen.  Don’t ask me why I never paid much attention to it when we were in college, maybe I had my eyes set on something (or someone) else. Ha!  There must have been a million brilliant stars hanging effortlessly on what looked like black velvet.  Some evenings, around twilight, I would go out and stand on the small slab of concrete that was our front porch and look up, I don’t know exactly what I was looking for, but it brought me comfort to be in the presence of such beauty.  My heart was so heavy then, I longed for what I’d left behind.  Standing on our small porch, as the sun set and the night took over, I felt wrapped up in a star-studded hug by the Creator himself.  It was healing.

We lived in that little place for about six months, in the meantime our house in Alabama finally sold and we were finding our place in the church.   Jeff loved leading worship, directing the choir and steering the youth department.    We discovered that we liked the neighborhood the church was in, and, fortunately, we found a house for sale we could afford.  We were so excited!  It was a split level with the garage downstairs and the kitchen upstairs.  I developed some real strength carrying groceries into the house, up the stairs and into the kitchen every week.  The bedrooms were upstairs too, so the kids learned quickly how to manage a staircase.  We were incredibly thankful for a garage, the weather there can be brutal.   Because buying the house took nearly every penny we had, there was no money left for furniture.  So, the upstairs sat empty for at least a year before we found a discount furniture store we could afford.  We were overjoyed when we finally got a couch and a loveseat, it was like Christmas.   In case you’re wondering, the furniture from Alabama, including the “blessed” recliner, was downstairs in what we liked to call the “den.”

The fall of 1999 Abbie entered kindergarten.  I was a stay at home mom and had three kids in tow everywhere I went.  The youth at both of the churches were wonderful with our kids, they were a part of the package and no one seemed to mind.   I remember taking her to school the first time, I was heartbroken.   She was still so young, still took naps and I wasn’t ready to let her go, I guess.  At the time it never occurred to us to hold her out another year, she was five, so, she went to school, that was the rule.  I don’t know who made the rule or why we thought we had to follow it, but we did. And, thinking back on it, Abbie was pretty excited to be a “big girl” and go.  Because we didn’t move until after the school year startedl, she started at one school and then moved to another within a few months.  The boys and I missed her so much during the day, we couldn’t wait to pick her up in the afternoon.  She loved school and that helped our transition tremendously.  During this time, Jeff was gone to the office and keeping up with what felt like two full time jobs rolled into one while I was struggling to find my place.  I missed the South, the people I had grown to love and, of course, my parents.  I felt like I’d been thrown in the deep end and I couldn’t get to the surface to catch my breath. 

And then it was winter.

The first snow was pure magic, the kids LOVED playing in it! But, I was soon reminded that Iowa winters are long, like really long.  It felt like the sky was gray for months.  When I was younger this didn’t bother me, every day felt like an adventure, but with three kids and a husband who was very busy, I felt trapped inside.  This was before social media, and the internet was barely a thing, and I didn’t have a cell phone, I ached with loneliness.  Once a week I would call my Mom and talk for about an hour, it was all we could afford with long distance charges and all, those phone calls were my lifeline.   When the roads were clear enough to drive, I would take the boys to the library for story time, sometimes we would walk the mall just to be out of the house.  

I learned a lot about resilience in these days.  

When Abbie was in second grade, it was time for Christian to start.  Again, I felt overwhelming sadness to send him even though he was more than ready.  This left me and Travis to fill our days.  A real saving grace during this time was the PTA, that’s what it was called back then.  I decided to volunteer because I could bring Travis and be close to my other two.  I did this for a few years, and I enjoyed it so much, I still keep in touch with a couple of moms on Facebook from this time.  It was a place where I could be an individual outside of church, and I cherished it. 

It took us a while, but we finally settled into a healthy rhythm with our little family.  Jeff loved his job, I was finding my place in church as well as the community, on the outside we were doing pretty well. 

But, my heart told another story.

Now that I’m reliving all of this, I think I can see why a much younger Sandi had such a hard time; there were so many life changes happening. I felt I couldn’t get my footing, as soon as we passed through one change, another was on the way.   And all of this happened in a new place while trying to establish community among strangers.  Of course, they wouldn’t remain strangers, as you’ll soon see.

A difficult beginning is just the first chapter, not the whole story; and there is plenty more to this story!