world-map

Around the world

So I’ve alluded some here on the blog, a bit on Instagram, and hinted around a bit on Facebook, but I haven’t been too specific about our plans yet, simply because they’re still etched in lightweight pencil with an eraser nearby. But enough of you have asked, and it’s not a secret, so I figured I’d go ahead and tell you:

Next year, my family and I will be traveling around the world.

We’ve wanted to do this for a very, very long time, so this isn’t a rash decision. Ever since we moved back from Turkey three years ago (has it really been three years already?), we knew we wanted to get back “out there” and explore. So the concrete is still very mushy on our plans (in fact, you could say we’re still mixing it), but we’re planning on traveling for the 2014-15 school year. So, a bit over a year from now.

I’ll be writing about our plans a bit more this next year, as we learn about places, glean advice from friends doing the same thing, and make global connections, but today, I thought I’d address one of the bigger questions I get. It’s this one:

Why?

(There’s also How? and Where?, but those are separate posts for another day.)

So, here’s why.

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bowling2

Everyday mentors and village people

I was a bystander this time, an observer, learning a lesson again I am so quick to forget:

Words are powerful and persuasive and have the capacity to change lives.

I know this, I even live it, but watching and witnessing a relative stranger speak wisdom into my teen son’s life, I saw it fresh, new.  The conversation’s effect was palpable–you could almost see wheels turning in my boy’s head.

We were at the periodontist’s office, a consultation for upcoming dental surgery.  Because Dr. M had treated my daughter a few years ago, we were already acquainted.  I remembered how much I appreciated his chair-side manner, but I had forgotten how likeable and engaging he was.

Dr. M, cordial but professional to me, directed his attention toward my son.  Thomas was wearing clothes for soccer, since he’d leave his appointment and go straight to practice. 
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jeep

Project Simplify: that put-off project

So my knee’s healing progress has actually slowed even more, just in time to finish this year’s Project Simplify with a bang. I’m back on crutches at the time of this writing, keeping my knee on ice and walking only when necessary. Ah well… Apparently this is par for the course in healing a reconstructed ACL.

This is my official excuse for not getting as much done as I wanted for this last hot spot—That Put-Off Project. Kind-of ironic, isn’t it? My knee has taught me so much this spring about patience, grace for others, and forbearance. I’m learning to wait on others, let go of ideal, and just rest when I need to. Who knew a body part was so full of wisdom?

Anyway, you’re here to see my put-off project, and here I am, bemoaning my injury.

It wasn’t a major selling feature, but it certainly was cool that our fixer-upper came with a treehouse in the backyard. (It’s not a literal treehouse, because there’s no tree involved. It’s a clubhouse on stilts. But the kids still call it a treehouse, so we just go with it.)

It was kind-of a mess, much like the rest of the house, and since we don’t actually live in it, it’s taken a major back seat. But since this year will be our first full summer in this home, we decided that our put-off project should be a little treat for the kids, even though we have many more important ones to cross off in the actual house. You’re welcome, kids.

So, here they are, our before and after pics in the backyard.

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One bite at a time together: join a CSA (project 43)

Slowly but surely, I’m working through Tsh’s ebook One Bite at a Time and chronicling my adventures here.  As you can see from this month’s installment, we are an average American family who needs to fine tune and tweak ever so gradually, or else we’ll give up entirely.

Several months ago, I decided to take advantage of the agriculturally rich area we live in, and shop the local Farmer’s Market.  My kids got used to heading out on Wednesday afternoons and indulging in a churro and all the sweet strawberries and orange slices they were allowed to sample from the farmers.

Although I was enjoying this exercise in eating locally, I was always still reaching for the familiar.I saw tables covered with a rainbow of produce, but I just wasn’t brave enough to buy it.  After all, I wasn’t even sure what it was called, much less how to cook with it.

Fast forward a few months when one of the (fairly large) local farms started a CSA (that’s Community Supported Agriculture).  It seemed like everyone I knew was doing it.  But I was scared.

You see, we aren’t big veggie eaters.  I mean, sure, I can steam a head of broccoli and we can grill a mean ear of corn…but a leek?  I don’t even know what a leek looks like…but it certainly doesn’t sound very good. And I was pretty sure there would be leeks in our CSA box.  Also, beets terrified me.  I didn’t want beets in my house.

After a couple of months of hemming and hawing, I finally took the plunge and joined, and I’m SO GLAD we did. Here are my top five reasons for joining a CSA (and why you should consider joining one too!):
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football

Parenting a boy, not a herd

His backpack was packed a week in advance. And the questions lasted as long too.

How long is the plane ride? Is there food on the plane? What hotel are we staying at? How late can I stay up? What does a road manager do?

My wife, Becky, is good about spending time with each of our kids individually. She sits at the art table and draws with Penelope (age eight). She lays in bed with Gabriella (age 12) and talks about school, faith, feelings, boys. Becky reads books with Sambhaji (age six) and destroys Gresham (age 10) in intense Skipbo matches.

But as our family has grown, I’ve treated my children more like a herd than four individuals. Sure, I spend time with them one-on-one, but usually when I play games or go out to eat or read books, it’s with the whole herd at once.

"Each day of our lives we make deposits in the memory banks of our children." Charles Swindoll

I wasn’t always this way. And I wanted to change.
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