A whole-lotta new

Today the last day of school for public school children here in NYC, thus the last day for teachers and some (those that work nine months out of the year) administrators. Today is Chris's last day -- actually Thursday will be, but when the kids aren't there, let's just say it's a much more enjoyable place.

This week is his last week of working as an Assistant Principal. In August he will be on staff, full time, as the interim minister to students at the church we've attended since moving to NYC.

Both Chris and I are excited and anticipate wonderful things. This is an opportunity that, while not what Stefani has always dreamed and wanted, I recognize as God's divine plan and perfect will for our lives. He has blessed Chris in with this position & now I am a ministers wife.

Minister's wife, this is a big deal to me for some reason. I feel as if I need to reevaluate my wardrobe and CD's and book titles; the words I speak and the songs I sing along to. I think some of it is coming from the enemy - as he tries to tell me I can not handle this and I'm not good enough. What do I even know anyway? But I'm standing firmly on grace & trusting God will give me the words to say & the patience and understanding I'll need in the coming months. I don't have to wear cardigans, and only listen to Sandi Patti to be a ministers wife. I can still be me.

This is something else I will be coming to terms with during the month of July- during this in-between phase. Chris will be in Rwanda with a team from our church for two weeks, then he'll continue his travels throughout the UK; backpacking from village to village, sleeping in hostels and being rugged-mountain-man. This might be his last summer off for awhile. After returning to me on July 28th, he will begin his new job on August 1st.

During July I want to write. I want to reflect and prepare my heart and really seek how I can best support my husband in this role and come alongside him. It is exciting to see my husband in a job that he believes in and loves and can't wait to start.

During July I want to rest well; getaway- in Central Park, or the Cloisters, or Brooklyn Bridge Park or somewhere green.

I want to eat fresh foods that I picked up that day at the farmers market. I want to try new restaurants and picnic with friends and eat at a table on the sidewalk in the sunshine and take my laptop to a cafe and drink coffee and write.

We prayed and God answered our prayers.

I am working on accepting grace and realizing that he will equip me- he has equipped me to do this. To live here. To push forward and reach upward and generate change. In Him, through Him and for Him. Answering his call, submitting my desires for easier life and spacious places and less noise, it's not been easy. But I ultimately know that there really is no other choice if I want to remain in the center of His will. And that makes me so happy, that's the place I want to be.

God Will Keep His Promises

It's been awhile.
Too long.

I'm sorry.

...

I've had ALOT going on, but here are few things I have coming up in the week ahead, and hopefully I'll be able to tell you more about the "alot going on" later this week.

1. I will start yoga on Friday. It was a Group-on Deal, 30 days for $30. And it's two blocks from our new apartment.

2. Yes, today marks one week in our new place on 62nd Street. We are still settling in and my sweet, hardworking husband is trying very hard to get me settled in before he leaves on Friday for a month. Left on the list:

- add hardward to the kitchen cabinents

- fix the light in the closet that does not work

- hang a few photos/ painting/ art pieces

- do whatever it is men do with sound systems and cable TV and internet and all that jazz

- teach Stefani how to use above mentioned TV set up

3. In July I'll start a bible study with the "20-something" women on spiritual gifts

4. I'm hoping to get some affordable acupuncture this summer because, I can't pay $115 a week forever.

5. And on that same note, Reflexology? Anyone? I've never tried it, but I'm hoping I will love it.

6. I have, for the first time, cued up our Netflix list (with Chris's help of course) with things I want to see, Designing Women, It's Complicated, movies with Meg Ryan!

7. I am now armed with my own (well NYPL's) copy of The Dirty Life, a memoir about a girl who lives in NYC as a writer and after falling in love with a farmer and farming- decides to leave the city. I can't wait to start it. --- Funny because right at this moment I have five books here with me a work. FIVE!! The Dirty Life, Balance your Hormones- Balance your Life, So Long Insecurity, Walking with God & a copy of Peter Scazzero's The Daily Office. I'm also now noticing a book titled, What's so Amazing About Grace? sitting here... is this mine too? I'm addicted!!!

8. I'm looking forward to living microwave free. I'm not a huge fan anyway, so when there wasn't one in our new place, no big deal. The only thing I'll miss is popcorn... But that's okay. I did, however, by a tea kettle to heat water for tea and oatmeal and those really healthy meals we sometimes eat that just require hot water. These really aren't that bad for you and have real ingredients. I have been known to eat them as "emergency food."

9. Learning more about my character/ likes/ dislikes/ identity as I live alone from July 1st- July 28th.

10. Committing to foster a way of life that encourages thicker skin and a softer heart. To let God reset my way of thinking so I'm not so self critical and sensitive. It's really selfishness at is finest when I'm thinking about my problems/ hurts/ wants/ desires/ need for _____/ lack of ______. I am not the center of the universe. I am not the hero in the story.

One last uphill battle

This morning is the last time I will commute to work from our apartment on 92nd Street and First Avenue. Walking east toward the 4/5/6 train the trek is mostly uphill. Insanity when it's rainy, or snowing, or humid or 97 degrees; and it's usually one of those things 90% of the time.

Monday we move to our new apartment on 62nd street. This will mean I can walk to work (when it's not rainy or snowing or humid or 97 degrees.) Chris can walk to work. I will no longer have to rely on the most congested subway line when going to and from work; but I can now take the bus-- if I'm so inclined.

Buses are nicer. So schlepping into the pit of the earth, no darkness, or train delays. If you want off the bus, if it's not moving- you can just get off. It's so liberating. Buses are usually full of gray haired people and parents with toddlers in tow. I like these sort of people. I'm excited about becoming a bus person.

I know I've been a little MIA recently. I have so much going on in my world. Last week we took a trip to Lake Placid with Chris's mom. A getaway which was long overdue. And we're planning our move. I'm hosting a baby shower tomorrow in our mostly empty living room; which will be sort of nice- more spacious than ever. And a BFF from Texas will arrive next Thursdsay. Oh, yes and among the boxes and bags and bicycles in the living room Chris will need to be able to locate all that he needs for his trip to Rwanda and Europe. He's leaving July 1st- for four weeks.

This all may appear insane and on some days I think, "How am I going to do all of this?" But I know we are doing what we are supposed to be doing, what we are called to do, and it will all fall into place. I know it will.

Spinning

Literally.

This morning, when I sat up and put my feet on the floor, the room would not stop moving. So, I laid back down. And I continued to try and get up for about an hour- making trips to the bathroom the entire time. After relocating to the living room and cranking down the air conditioner I still felt awful: nauseous, sick to my stomach, still moving round and round and round.

At 7:30AM I called my co-worker (because texting would have been too much effort) to let her know I'd be late and hoped to make it in by 10:30 or so.

I lie there thinking about the steamed spinach, the seaweed, and red bean and rice cake I bought in Koreatown the night before. I though about the chiropractor adjustment that had made me see stars and the minimal acupuncture I received after work the day prior. I've never experienced such dizziness and an inability to sit or stand, much less walk. If nothing else, I will just lay here all day... thinking about all I could be doing if I could stand. Or walk. Or move at all...

But at 9:00 I was able to shower. So, I decided I should throw on some clothes, minimal makeup and head to the train.

Because there were no saltines to be found in our home, I ate some of Chris's cereal with almond milk. On my way down the elevator stopped three times- all for mothers with strollers. So this must be when they leave the house.... The dizziness was gone, but I still felt a little spaced out, like I was floating. Dreamlike. Surreal. I made it to the train and I liked the pace of my neighborhood at 10:00. Much slower. More livable. Nice even.

I go through this mental list of "What made me feel so terrible and what can I do to avoid it happening at all, ever again?" But I am not really in control of when my stomach gets upset, or what makes me feel like hurling. (Although I did throw out the rest of my Korean food finds...) I am not in control. Period. I can manage my emotions, feelings, reactions-- but I can't truly determine my own destiny.

Now I wonder if it's the medication I am taking... Yes, yes that is it- I tell myself. I call my sister who's a pharmacist. She tells me that women issues and hormones and "all that stuff" are so confusing that she doesn't remember what exactly they discussed in school. Our hormones are such an interesting thing. It's all so fragile and when not working properly or the tiniest thing is off kilter- Wham- headaches, mental fog, irritability (just to name a few!) ensue. Then, I read the side effects to this prescription online. This statement doesn't make me feel much better:

Remember that your doctor has prescribed this medication because he or she has judged that the benefit to you is greater than the risk of side effects.

At any rate, I took one more pill and hoped for the best. I hate not feeling myself; groggy, sickly, that heaviness in the pit of my stomach that could mean I'm hungry, or drank too much water, or need to use the bathroom or that this medication is wreaking havoc on my system!

(PS- No, I'm not pregnant but thanks for asking.)

Getting out of the house

Summer is here, where "things to do" abound in New York City. Last Tuesday night Chris and I saw Ray LaMontagne play in Central Park. It was an amazing performance, and for New York City, intimate and just great. (Current favorite Ray songs: Lord Willing and the Creek Don't Rise, Shelter and Repo Man.... But really, is there a bad Ray song...?)

The Chambers are fairly new to the wonder that is Ray, but we had a marvelous time. The temperature wasn't extremely hot and with nightfall came a wonderful breeze. I would say Ray is a folk singer. A songwriter. A poet. A young man with an old soul. Even though wailing vocally and playing the harmonica seemed to come naturally, he appeared quite nervous and soft spoken when it came to "what to say to the crowd..." And his band members were twice his age. It was just good folksy music. No frills, no back-up singers. Just raw lyrics and amazing musicians.

Afterward we escaped Central Park on 72nd street and spilled onto Fifth Avenue with hundreds of people. Chris and I walked North and sat on the steps at Metropolitan Museum of art. I don't ever recall hearing the fountains splashing so rhythmically and melodiously as I did that night. Honestly, I don't ever recall the fountains at all, but maybe I just never saw them or heard them. Sitting there, and having all that space felt great. Splashing water. Light spilling down the steps. No one around. New York City at it's finest.

....

This weekend I had a birthday party, a CD release party, a friend in a show, a Spring choir performance and a rooftop party, where we had an incredibly competitive Guac-off. (Six contestants entered for the chance to win the title of Best Guacamole by a panel of judges. A crowd favorite was also awarded. This was no friendly competition- this was southern folks who now live in the north, duking it out--- at our "end of the season choir rooftop party." Where else?)

I didn't make it to everything, but point out the busyness of my weekend to say: Tis the Season! Parties and events abound. Somehow in all of this I managed to do a couple loads of laundry, make a trip uptown to Target and bake a batch of Neiman Marcus bars.

Saturday night Chris and I saw our friend Laila Biali perform in the Lower East Side. She is an amazingly talented singer and arranger. She is a true artist and watching her play the piano is mesmerizing. She's terribly gorgeous and probably the one of the most sincere people I have ever met. Genuine. I hope people can say that about me- that I'm genuine and give more than I take and that I'm someone they actually enjoy being around. Laila brings out the best in a person.

She's Canadian, married to an artist and has the sweetest one-year-old son Joshua. I got to know Josh quite well Sunday morning while we were doing a quick "run through" before the 9:30AM church service. Laila plays piano at our church and her husband was the sound technician for the Spring Worship Event. Thus, the reason I got to hold Josh for nearly an hour. He's not a baby, but seemed completely content in my arms- just taking it all in. I didn't mind snuggling and swaying with him one bit. I can sing and hold a baby- of course I can!

Identity Crisis

If you've seen me lately, maybe you've noticed. Maybe you haven't.

My left hand has been bare for about a month now. An entire month: no engagement ring, no wedding band, just a bare finger constantly feeling lighter than it should. That ring has been mine for almost six years now. It's been my identity.

I never take my ring off- except if I'm lifting weights at the gym. Well, if I'm planning on lifting weights at the gym; I leave my ring at home before I leave. When I'm digging in the dirt or scrubbing the shower with bleach--- those might be the other two times I take my rings off. Other than that, they are always on my hand.

Thus the current situation I find myself in: without my rings.

They take a beating. When we went to Austin, Texas in February I took my engagement ring in to be fixed. (Chris, in his infinite wisdom, purchased the lifelong warranty and care "package" and we like dealing with the same jeweler that the rings were purchased from.) Somehow, some time that I don't even recall, I had literally hit the mounting so hard that the diamond now tilted towards the East and no longer sat upright. So, they melted the metal down, built it back up, polished and cleaned and returned to me a beautiful ring in about 48 hours.

Fast forward three months and somehow, I have wounded my engagement ring once more. This time it made me cry. "It's a sign!" I declared to Chris over the phone. (Yes, I am that girl.) During one of the most difficult few days of our lives recently I cracked my wedding band in two. Picture one of those plastic rings that says "one size fits most" that you get for 25 cents in a machine at the grocery store.

I think the metal (we are talking platinum here people, isn't this stuff supposed to be pretty durable?!) has been compromised so much so that with one hard hit into the granite counter top while reaching into the dishwasher it snapped. After two sizings and one "retitling of the four-pronged head" in only five years, it gave way.

I know it will be fixed, mended, made new and rebuilt: All is not lost. But for me, it's easy to just say, "Let's just sell the ring and give the money to charity. I'll wear a silver band, because obviously I can't take care of anything nice." (Slam door, stomp off.....)

This is not a huge deal (we do have insurance too...) But, it has taught me huge lessons about myself.

I want to be married. I mean, I want others to know I'm married. Men, so they will be deterred and leave me alone (some of them anyway). Women, so they will know I've been picked. (I know this sounds shallow, but I realized it was very true.) My ring means that I am loved, that I have a husband, that he takes care of me and thought I was worth a really nice ring. (Gee, this is quite disheartening...) It is a huge identifier for me- and I've struggled with this throughout my entire relationship with Chris, through dating, engagement and marriage.

God has a plan for Chris. God has a plan for the two of us- in marriage- things we can come along side one another in and encourage and support one another through. BUT God has a plan for Stefani too. I am unique. I am worth something. I am valued (aside from Chris). It's hard to remember sometimes. But I'm reminded daily now.

Image Credit

Change of address

Can I just be honest with you?

Can I tell you what I want, what Stefani would like? Here's the deal:

Just a little space (not too much, not bedrooms I never go in, not two bathrooms, just a space for my shoes and purses and tubs of clothes I'm currently not wearing but can't seem to part with)

Some windows

Something green to look at outside those windows

Quietness

A non-anxious pace outside my apartment building

To not pay so much in rent that we can't save as much as I'd like

Now... here's the other deal. I know that we are being called to do things that are not in line with my "life-long wish list." But there are things that are bigger than my own personal wants. Am I willing to put aside fulfilling my selfish desires and submit to Christ's desires for my life? (And ultimately I will be happier there I know. But right now my way makes more sense.) There are things more important than getting my way.

In the past three months Chris and I have been living step-by-step, literally. Not knowing what will be around the corner. Prayers have been answered, miracles have unfolded, we've been tested and worn out and have seen shoots of life and promise spring up from the soil that I swore would never produce anything good ever again. God has been faithful, even when I doubted and winced and thought, "really? Really...?"

....

Yesterday on my commute on the five train I peered over a woman's shoulder as she was reading The Psalms. This jumped out at me immediately from Psalm 90:1, Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations.

So, there it is. Upper East Side, New Jersey, Yonkers, Astoria, or twenty blocks south to a well-lit, quaint, loft apartment with a spacious living room -- it doesn't matter. The Lord is our dwelling place. And maybe some of those handbags, need to go. And maybe three pairs of black boots is too many. And maybe packing a large suitcase with some trinkets and some jewelery and some colorful tops for Chris to take with him to Rwanda in July is what I need to do.

These are baby steps, really, in what God is calling me to. Getting rid of stuff, donating stuff, helping homeless men and women, or people if far away countries who literally have nothing should not be painful. Stuff is stuff. Wood, hay, stubble- you can't take it with you. But somehow the sacrifice is still a little stabbing. And it's those moments I realize how far I have to go. I am materialistic and I do like my stuff. (I just want a nice sized kitchen and a decent closet.... Why? to keep my stuff.)

...

We have found a space. We will have a home June 15th. Is it my first choice? No. Is it lovely and nice and do I live in the richest zip code in the world possibly, Yes.

I look forward to this summer, as Chris and I move forward into this next season of our lives. We've been in NYC four years this July and I feel like a new chapter in our journey begins here. Not that the past four years have been terrible, but the foundation was being laid. Growing, nourishing and healing had to happen and now we find ourselves Here.

Here: without a flowerbed of my own, or a walk-in closet, or a tomato plant to water, or a patio to grill on-- it's gonna be good because we are right in the center of His will, the best place to be.

Luke 22:35

He also said to them, "When I sent you out without money-bag, traveling bag, or sandals, did you lack anything?"

"Not a thing," they said.