A Week of Reminders and Blessings

This past week has been a much-needed reminder of why we moved here—and of how abundantly God has blessed us in this new season of our lives. After all the chaos, transitions, and moments of doubt, we were met with overwhelming grace, generosity, and confirmation that this is exactly where we are supposed to be.

We’ve found a spiritual home in the little country church I’ve written about before. What a gift that community has become to us. From the very beginning, they welcomed us as if we were long-lost family. And this week, they wrapped us in love and celebration. During Wednesday night Bible study, they surprised me with a hearty, joyful chorus of the birthday song. And then again this morning—Sunday morning—the entire congregation sang happy birthday to both Roslynn and me at the start of service. I was touched beyond words. These weren’t just gestures of kindness; they were affirmations of belonging.

Earlier this morning, in Sunday School, I was deeply convicted by the reminder of how often we—like the Israelites wandering in the wilderness—forget God’s provision and instead grumble. I’ve done that lately. In the stress of Jim being away, the weight of solo parenting, the seemingly endless to-do lists—it’s easy to lose perspective. But even in our grumbling, God continues to bless. He never stops showing up.

One of those blessings came in a big way earlier this week when Jim made it home from California. He arrived safely—much quicker and smoother than expected—and just a day after my birthday. I don’t think I realized just how much I needed him home until I saw him again. That sigh of relief when he stepped through the door was something I hadn’t even realized I was holding in.

A few days after Jim’s return came another unexpected outpouring of grace. Jim had brought back a trailer full of heavy tools and equipment from California—items that were going to take more than us to unload. I reached out to a former high school classmate, hoping his teenage son might be willing to help for a little cash. What I didn’t expect was what happened next.

The next morning, several trucks pulled into our driveway. Not one, not two—but seven or eight people from our new church family came to help. They brought their kids and eager smiles. What we thought would take several exhausting hours took just one. I was so busy preparing snacks and drinks that I barely got to help—they had nearly everything unloaded before I made it outside. Even the kids were cheerfully pitching in. Jim and I just stood there afterward, stunned and grateful. It was a physical, undeniable showing of God’s love in action.

And as if that weren’t enough, today brought another blessing. A sweet woman from church, someone I hadn’t known well back in high school, invited us to her home for lunch after church. I remembered her from two years ahead of me in school, but time had erased the distance, and she welcomed us into her home as if we’d been lifelong friends. Her home was warm and inviting, the food was delicious, and the conversation flowed easily as we shared stories and laughter.

The perfect ending to our time there? She took us to meet her 1-week-old puppies. Tiny, sleepy, and impossibly cute, they made for the sweetest ending to a soul-filling afternoon. As we stood there, hands full of puppies and hearts full of gratitude, I thought to myself—this is why we came here. This is home.

God is so faithful. He meets us right where we are—whether it’s in a small country church, a helping hand from neighbors, or a quiet Sunday lunch filled with warmth and laughter. I’m so thankful for this life we’re building and the people He’s surrounded us with. I feel more rooted every day.