Life in Michigan was comfortable. Although we were extremely busy with our ministries at church and Alpha Omega, we were working alongside our dear friends, in a community we had lived in for years. Our roles were clear, our niche was established. Now God has called us to leave our niches and our comfort zones in Michigan, leave our families and our friends and everything familiar, and head to White Creek.

I have had my moments of stress. It is hard enough to be in the spotlight, but to be in the spotlight while trying to manage four, um… spirited children… it’s like trying to manage four monkeys in a candy shop. In general they are coping well with the move, but we have had our days. Sometimes it seems like they are desperately needy and emotional, arguing over everything, and accidentally hurting themselves and each other every two minutes. This state of affairs usually pushes me over the edge to a mommy-sized temper tantrum, which produces more neediness and conflict, and the cycle repeats. It is not pretty.

My first Sunday morning without family help happened to be Pastor Brandt’s farewell Sunday. The church that seats only 300 people somehow hosted 450 that day. Afterwards there was a lunch, so we very slowly made our way through the crowd to the line, stopping every few feet to meet a new family or two. The kids had just been in church for over an hour, they were starving and could smell the food, and they had absolutely nothing to do but hang on me and whine and fight with each other. Meanwhile, I am overly conscious of BEING WATCHED, so that their little monkey behavior irked me much more than was called for.

We survived the wait, the meal, and the presentations afterwards with no major monkey scenes, but my nerves were completely shot. I took the kids home at the first opportunity, and gave them each something to do so that I could scrounge in the kitchen for some comfort food. Josh came home to find me standing in the kitchen scarfing down leftover potatoes for no reason (we just ate at church). He tried to make conversation, and I got out one word in response to his question then burst into tears and ran out of the room. I felt like a big, potato-filled Aggie.

That afternoon I begged God for some refuge, which He promptly gave me in the form of a novel and 2 hour hot bath, and I felt much better by evening. Even pastor’s wives neglect the Word and try to do things by their own strength. This is a huge transition for our family, and at times I am lonely and stressed and overwhelmed with my own needs, not to mention the needs of the entire family. So once again, I have had to relearn the same lesson: I am desperately in need of God’s grace every single hour- His Word to give me strength and mental clarity- His love to give me peace.

This week I began with the resolve to actually read this Word I am always hearing about, in the morning before the sources of my stress wake up. In the two whole days I have managed to keep this commitment, I have found much encouragement and hope. God does hear my prayers, and He is my constant when everything around me is changing. He will equip me to do what He has called me to do. His love for me and for my family is just the same in this far off place as it was in Michigan. That is truly hope and nourishment for the soul, and even more comfort than a bowl of potatoes.