Here, today

Today, I'm in Georgia. My dad takes me to lunch and my mom, home early from work, chats with me during the commercial breaks of her television show. We break out our computers and work, not talking but both so glad for the company.

I'm reminded by the friendly hellos I receive at the coffee shop that I'm always welcome here, by friends not seen in months. I'm reminded that it's possible, in all the best ways, to have more than one home, more than one place where the heart rests.

I had plans for a different blog, one that I considered better. More thought-provoking, more intelligent, but when I sat down to write, it was this. Quite possibly a product of jet-lag, of being nourished by peanut butter m&ms and basking in the comfort of the place I've lived for most of my life, but far more likely the realization that sometimes, less is more.

Sometimes, we need to stop being so thought-provoking, so intelligent, so precise, and start being more gentle. More open.

Today, I miss Stephen, and it thrills me to see that even these 24 hours apart are hard. A confirmation of sorts, if you will. And I am equally thrilled to have this short time here, today, with my parents. With my friends. With my other home, the one that nurtured and prepared me for the new one.

What places do you call home, and how are you celebrating them today?

On Christmas

A few days after the big celebration and even longer since I've last written here, I've settled back home in Sydney after Christmas in Cootamundra. This Christmas was unlike any I've had previously, and not just because it was beer in the pool rather than hot cider by the fire.

Lots of things were the same. Too much food, lots of laughter, excitement for presents and impatience from excitement. Family was celebrated and conversation was, mostly, light. But instead of being with my own family, I was with a new one. One that has taken me in and made me feel perfectly at home and perfectly welcome, but with the traditions abounding, I was reminded that they are not, in fact, mine. Christmas was disconnected.

I spent the morning opening gifts from both my families, host and biological. I slipped away quietly during tea and spent an hour Skyping with my family back in Georgia, for whom it was still Christmas Eve, before rejoining the Australia Christmas. I went to bed exhausted and content, but also sad in a profoundly new way. Celebrating Christmas this year was a stunning reminder that for me, this season is not nearly as much about the traditions or the locations or even the people with whom it's spent as it is about the One I am celebrating. But even with this knowledge in hand, the insignificant things still matter. And the holiday season half a world away from one's family can be a discombobulating thing.

Moving to Australia is a marvelous thing. It carries opportunities and adventures unmatched by any other I've had in my soon-to-be 24 years. But it also carries a heaviness, a bittersweet acknowledgement that new hello's do not exist without gravitational goodbye's. As the 12 days of Christmas count down and a monumental year approaches, I am joyful beyond compare, but I miss my family. And I am learning that the two things are strange puzzles pieces. They might not fit together easily, but they are both essential corners. Unless I have both, I won't see my big picture clearly. And it's a picture I desperately want to see.

A very Merry Christmas, from Australia to wherever you are. May your 2014 ring in with a resounding yes for whatever path you are choosing. The things that matter, the people that matter, the places that matter, you will carry with you.

 

On family and the holiday season

Today, I dropped my mom off at the airport and we said a tearful till next time. She arrived in Sydney last weekend and we spent this week exploring and catching up. I was glad to have some good, old-fashioned Mama advice (not that it's been lacking, but there's just something about face-to-face that's better, you know?). She came loaded with Christmas presents and some of my favorite treats from home; I sent her home with gifts for my family and for her. To name a few adventures, we strolled on the beaches, fed and petted kangaroos and koalas, and wandered through gardens designed to imitate other countries. We drank over-priced lattes while she listened to my heart about work, relationships, and where I want to go from here. She helped me draw up a new budget for my finances, and I was so grateful to have a mother who is still willing to help me and build me up. My host family cooked us a beautiful dinner for her birthday, which is in two days, and also let us cook them an American Thanksgiving. I had the whole week off, thanks to a wonderful host family and grandparents, and really, it couldn't have come at a better time.

The holidays are right around the corner. So getting to spend some time with my mom was fantastic. There's a space in my life, no matter how dreamy Oz is, that's family shaped, and there are so often moments or experiences that I wish I could share with my parents and brother. Having Mom here was amazing, and I know that as great as the holidays will be, it'll be a little tough being apart this year. But I think what's hardest is coming to terms with all the things I've left behind for the time being. I've been putting a lot of thought and effort into what a temporary or permanent relocation to Australia would look like, and it's sort of daunting to look back home and see, truly, what it means to leave.

Moving on means everyone else moves on as well. And as you grow up, so does everyone else. And as much as you want that hometown to always be the same as when you left, it won't be. So this holiday season, as much as it is exploration and new opportunities, is bittersweet. Bittersweet because it's summer, not winter. Because it's a new family and new friends and new traditions, which are all lovely, but are not mine. Because it's the start of a new year and a new country, and I have close to no idea where I'll be living in the next 12 months. But I also know who I am and where I want to be headed, and I'm blessed enough to have family that will support me and love me through it, no matter the cost or the distance.

So to my mom, happy almost birthday and thank you so very much for coming to see me. It was a joy showing you my life here, and now more than ever, I am certain that being your daughter is an honor, to say the least. You are the most incredible woman and have given me everything I need to find joy wherever I am, and I cannot thank you enough for being my mama. And to my dad, thanks for sharing her with me. I'm not sure what this next year will hold for me, but I know I will carry you both with me, and that is a comfort like no other.

Here's to seasons that bring comfort and joy, in the new and the old, alike. To family, biological and otherwise. To life, whatever season you're in.

In other news, Olivia just turned 8 and Lachlan has a new set of words to learn, so things are quite exciting in the nanny world.

When one change isn't enough

It's been a little while since I've come to Australia, and while in some ways it feels as if I've been here for ages, I am frequently reminded that I'm still new. This is all still new. I'm wholeheartedly enjoying getting to know my surroundings and family and friends, and I'm constantly excited by what's happening and about to happen.

Being an au pair is a challenge. But it is one worth the effort and time and energy. I seriously love my job. It's easily the best job I've had, and I consider myself incredibly lucky to have been given this opportunity. In some conversations over the past week or so with a few of my friends here, we've come to the conclusion that the only thing left to do here is make the most of it.

It sounds so simple. Be grateful each day for the wonder it holds for us, for the things we'll learn from how we're being challenged, and the freedom we've been given to adventure and explore and gallivant. But sometimes, it's tricky. In the midst of missing family and friends back in the States and the craziness of our schedules and the everything else we'd like to try, the thought of just sitting back and drinking it all in seems a little daunting. Which makes us sound so spoiled. Which we probably are.

But today, I am grateful. I am beyond blessed by this experience, by the church I've become a part of, but the people I've met, by the family that has let me be part of their life, by the scenery and the freshness, by the challenge. And I am not taking it for granted. I think people in my relative age group have this general idea, whether we realize it or not, that we're entitled to a lot of things. We're not. So maybe the issue isn't that we don't have enough or what we have isn't good enough. Maybe the issue is that we don't realize we could have nothing at all, but instead, we have everything. The possibilities are endless.

Details

A lot of what I post here is vague. Things I'm learning and growing in, bits and pieces of things I'm struggling to push past, glimpses of Oz, but for the most part, what I write is lacking in the details. Here are some.

Last week and this upcoming week are different that usual because the kids I look after are on holiday from school. Last week started in Brisbane and is now coming to a close with a long-awaited Skype call with my sweet parents. My friend Grace and I flew to Brisbane on Saturday and spent a long weekend exploring the city and beaches, all while couch surfing with an awesome couple. Saturday night found us eating tacos and burritos in the city, followed by tiramisu ice cream and a walk by the river that runs through the city. It was spectacular, and though the day of travel left us unbelievably tired, it was so good. On Sunday we got to experience Hillsong Brisbane. What a blessing, to be part of a church that reaches so many parts of the world. We spent the afternoon wandering through more of the city and enjoyed homemade Mexican, brownies, and the movie Australia with the couple hosting us. On Monday, we traveled to the Gold Coast and spent the day at Surfer's Paradise, where I fell asleep and got a little too much sun. That evening, we were able to not only see kangaroos in the wild, but also eat delicious kangaroo steak. It was incredibly tender and well-flavored and I loved it. For our last adventure, on Tuesday morning, we toured the brewery where Queensland's state beer is brewed before flying back to Sydney. And funnily enough, on our flight we met an Australian who happens to be an Atlanta Braves fan.

I arrived home to my host mom and kids, plus the first au pair they had and my host mom's mom, both of whom were visiting for the week. Jella (pronounced Yell-ah) worked for the Kowals roughly four years ago, and it's been really cool to hear her stories of the kids and see the relationship she still has with them, after all this time. It reminds me that even though I'm a temporary installment in this home, I can have a lasting impression on this family, if I choose my words and actions wisely and if I am deliberately loving and kind. At the end of the day, I find myself wanting to retreat to my room and enjoy moments of peace, but I'm learning that I need to step out a little bit more, even just for an extra half hour, and be more than just a nanny.

On Friday, my host family went to Canberra for the weekend to visit a family friend, so I had the house to myself. It was weirdly quiet, and while I enjoyed it for about five minutes, I found myself wanting to fill the space. So, I went to one of the Northern beaches with a group of friends on Saturday. The weather was close to perfect, although the water was unforgivably cold, and we had a blast sunbathing, tossing a frisbee, frolicking in the waves (let's be real, I barely dipped my toes in), and eating chicken burgers before heading home.

Watching the kids for a whole day, without the break of having them at school, is a totally different ball game. This upcoming week will surely present its challenges, but I'm excited to take them on. It gives me an awesome opportunity to know these kids beyond schedules and assignments and just enjoy the people they are. Not to mention with the beautiful weather, we have every reason to spend our time outside. The mantra is Anything you throw at me, I can take.

Anything you throw at me, I can take.

One of the many gorgeous views in Brisbane

The Fourex Brewery

What I've decided about homesickness

People keep asking me if I'm experiencing it. Homesickness, that is. And I keep saying no, not really, I don't feel homesick. I'm happier than I've been in months. I'm busier, but more peaceful. I feel a stronger sense of purpose than I've known for a long time. I'm making friends, I'm getting settled, I'm beginning to make plans for the future, outside of being an au pair. I'm growing in love for my host family while maintaining healthy relationships with people in Georgia. I feel utterly confirmed. I feel at home.

Then it turns to evening and then dusk and I realize the people I want to share my day with are miles and miles away and hours and hours different and I think, maybe I am a little homesick. Not in the traditional sense, not in the sense that I desperately want to be in Milledgeville or am depressed without my family and friends, but in the sense that I yearn for the things that make a place a home. Because in learning to make Australia home, I miss the things that had built it for me back in the States.

I miss having people to text and meet up with in five minutes. I miss having the opportunity to see my family. I miss living in close enough proximity to others that time spent together could as easily be spontaneous as planned. I miss having a cat, having an apartment of my own, being known. And I've come to realize that these things I miss are not things that are particular to Milledgeville but things that I will cultivate here as well, in time.

So yes, I guess I'm a little homesick. But I know it will pass, as do all seasons. And in its passing, a new home will be built up and strengthened and fortified with the same courage it took me to come here.

In other news, being an au pair is an incredible thing. Apparently, I'm bad at blogging about it. More on that later, maybe.

The road ahead is a good one.
[from Lane Cove National Park]

Overwhelming.

I met these women at Hillsong recently. They're both from Georgia.
They help make this place more home-y, and I'm grateful.

The Gathering and other gatherings

One of my friends texted me a few days ago and asked if I had yet to see a kangaroo. Sadly, my answer remains no. Between working and trying to settle in and serving at Hillsong Church, it's hard to find time to go adventuring, but I felt like a disappointment for not having done anything exciting in my first three weeks here. It took me back to what I blogged last week or the week before about realizing my worth and worthiness of interest, regardless of the circumstances, but it also made me see that my threshold of adventure has shifted slightly. Yesterday, the youngest girl I nanny, Olivia, lost her second front tooth. And we celebrated. And that was enough. When Lachlan spells all his words for the week correctly, we celebrate. Yes, I am living in an extraordinarily beautiful country, and I cannot wait to experience and explore all it has to offer (and hopefully that starts this weekend with a girls' night out!), but I'm just as thrilled to be part of a new family and share in their small joys. Being here is great. The things I'll get to do here will be great. But that doesn't discount the worth of my time here without them. If I never see a kangaroo this year, I will still consider this trip worthy and wonderful.

This thought process led me to this gem, which talks about recognizing the purpose behind our blogs. It was such a treat for me to take this in. Naturally, my hope in starting this blog was to share my time in Australia, whatever that looked like, but it's a story I want to be read often and eagerly. As people, when we take ownership of our narrative, it's because we want them to be seen. We want them to be grand. We want them to be monumental. So what if nobody ever reads this? What's the point, then?

My first instinct is to say that while I'm relatively crafty and a decent cook and baker and I have an eye for design and an offbeat fashion sense, I'm a writer. But even before that, I have to say that I'm a professional communicator, and my favorite avenue happens to be the written word. Communication is what I've studied. It's what I love. It's what I do. It's how I live. This blog is about communicating, to however large an audience, pieces of my life, in hopes of encouraging every reader to live hopefully and eagerly. The purpose behind this hope is hard for me to type out, because I know that a lot of the people who will read this will be related to me, and have different beliefs. But I'm learning now more than ever that family is family, that my family has taught and shown me acceptance and love in spite of our differences, and greater than my desire to be someone my family can be proud of, what I believe demands to be proclaimed.

The purpose behind this blog is to communicate the hope of Christ, through my job as a nanny, through my time serving at Hillsong, through the friendships I am building. Last night, our young adults ministry hosted an event called The Gathering. It was, simply, a night of worship. It was not simple. I spent the day in Baulkham Hills, helping my sweet new friend Melissa set up a concierge service to host guests from other churches in the area. I spent the evening surrounded by men and women ushering each other into the Throne Room. It was spectacular. A turning point, if you will.

I'm learning a lot here. About who I am and who I want to be. It hasn't been easy and I know it won't always be easy, but it is a joy. Whoever this blog serves, whatever it accomplishes, it is my hope that it would exude kindness and gentleness and acceptance. And that it will soon host pictures of kangaroos. Because believe it or not, I'm in Australia!

A snapshot from The Gathering. Power House all day, for the Kingdom.

A letter.

To my parents,

Thank you for everything you have done for me over the past 23 years, for helping me become the kind of person who can move to another country just because. For helping me become the kind of person who knows home is who and what you carry with you while you're away, and for helping me remember that there's always a place to come back to if nothing else works. Thank you for encouraging me that things will work.

I've been an au pair for less than a month, and already I see so much more clearly how much parents do and sacrifice for their children. And already I see that I have no idea. Thank you for the choices you made on my behalf, so that I could have the best and do my best. Thank you for your sacrifices in spite of my times of selfishness, for you kindness in spite of my times of cruelty. Thank you for loving me when I wasn't lovely and for your patience when I was impossible. Thank you for all the things I never noticed, and especially, thank you for the things I hated that you knew were for the best. Thank you for disciplining me with words rather than force, and for doing it well. I see now, so often, how difficult certain points in my life must have been for you, and I appreciate greatly your handling of those times. Thank you for, without even realizing it, setting me up to be successful in this season.

Thank you for choosing each other, for choosing love, for choosing to create the kind of home that builds a real family. Thank you for being a team, for being on each other's side, and for never making me question your devotion to each other, to my brother, and to me. There is so much you have taught me that I've seen, that I'm beginning to see, that I know I will see in the future; thank you for all of it, and above everything else, thank you for your unconditional care, support, and love throughout each day of my life.

Sometimes words fail, and even these don't do your hearts justice. Happy Anniversary; your marriage has been one of my greatest treasures.

I love you, Mom and Dad.

Adventure is out there

I stood at the kitchen counter this morning drinking coffee and thinking, "Am I happy here? Is this what it feels like to be happy? To be moving forward?" I was struck by the notion that there was no conflict in me. I'd forgotten what it felt like to truly be still, to have contentment. To find it in such a place - where I know very few people and am unfamiliar with the area and culture and I'm not sure where this year is leading - is a wonder. One of those moments that makes you marvel. There's something to be said for packing your life in two suitcases and a backpack and moving to the other side of the world. When I figure out what it is, I'll let you know.

Things I've learned in the past week:

1. There's always an opportunity for pictures, so don't be afraid to be the person lugging around a camera.
2. Small touches make a room feel home-y, and having a room that feels home-y keeps the homesickness at bay.
3. The toilets don't really flush the other way (Sorry, Dr. Burt...)
4. Driving on the other side of the road is terrifying.
5. Kids are some of the most accepting people on the planet, so surrounding yourself with them is wise.
6. Community matters; when you build one, build one with purpose, one that will carry you and let you reciprocate.
7. Most importantly, the accents here? They really are that cool.