“The Spirit of the Sovereign God is on me because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Superglue won’t work, bandages fall off and surgery can be risky…. and anyway, none of the fixes can repair a broken heart. Why? Because our true heart is not trapped in a mass of cells, bone, muscle, tendons, blood and skin. It’s who we are, with or without the covering of a body.

God has sent me to help you who have moved and  found a crack in you hearts. You feel disconnected, and lonely as you  long for the neighbor back home who loved your rambunctious two-year old, the friendly old grocery store that offered the best homemade brats anywhere, the church that sent your family off with a superlative going-away party, the friends you’ve know for decades who remember when you, the perfect room-mother, flipped fudge cupcakes all over your third grader’s classroom floor . I watch as you complained about the  perennial garden that took all your waking summerly hours to maintain.

I’ve heard you whisper:

“We were so happy in Kansas, why did my husband loose his job?
“My wife and I planted a church in Nevada. We thought we’d be there forever.”
“After forty –two years, they didn’t have to can me. Why I practically started that company.”
“I never though divorce was an option. Now we’ve had to sell the home we built from the ground up.”

Life drops bombs on all of us,  usually when we’re looking the other way. But the God who love you and me has called me to be part of the FEMA crew that comes in after national disasters, only my job is to help bind up wounds…and along the way share a little humor and hope.

Has life detonated a bomb on you. Don’t blame God, the source of our best help in life. Be encouraged knowing our problems are never permanent but our God who has “sent his people to “proclaim freedom to the captives,” has many helpers with flesh and blood to stand beside you.

I am one of those. I am a Crack Patcher.

We have another blog from Mollie Bond who has just moved to Chicago  She is a very adventurous young woman and always has an interesting slant on moving, especially choosing a large versus a small town.  I know you will enjoy her blog.

I moved from a town of 50 people to a town of 50 million people. Many things I had grown accustomed to drastically changed. I got funny looks asking seemly innocent questions.  My new neighbors were accustomed to things that were new to me. But, I believe the greater the highs, the greater the lows. Moving to a big city had its benefits (highs), and its disappointments (lows).

High: Being close to a store. In an unincorporated town, there is no store, no mayor, no post office, no police. In my new city, I can walk to the store. And it’s not walking to the store that is exciting, it’s the choice of which store to visit.

Low: Being close to a store. It’s impossible to have a five-minute visit. I find the line where the person in front of me has limited English skills. That takes time. Although I try to be patient, I’m from a town where there is one customer in the store at a time, and we all speak the same language.  (“Done?” “Yep.” “Ten bucks.”) It’s hard not to stare as the cashier answers back in their language.

High: Choices in churches. On Sundays, a couple of people show up at the same leaning church, the only one for 70 miles. So my family does the 140 mile drive each week. Leaving at 7 am before Sunday School and arriving home at 1 pm after grocery shopping makes it difficult, and leaves me hungry for lunch. In a city, there are many churches. It’s hard to choose one, but I am glad for the abundance of good community right around the corner.

Low: Not being from here. Most people are from the area, and even if they’ve moved, it’s been so long they’ve forgotten the lessons. Like radiator heat. I had to learn on my own what to look for when apartment searching, whether the radiator is broken or okay.

High: Driving. It never takes long to get anywhere, as long as the time of day is right. Mostly, I’m just glad all the roads are paved. It saves me on washing the car so much, but also saves my shocks from the washboards. I probably save some dentist work too from the lack of teeth rattling too.

Low: Parking. I have to look at a website before venturing anywhere to see where the closest—free—parking is located. Parking on the street is new for me. I fret about whether my car will be stolen overnight, or I’ll see the side view mirror hanging because the streets are narrow, or I will I find a ticket on my windshield. What’s parallel parking? And oh vey! the prices on parking passes can suck the life out of your budget. I miss the small town for it’s traffic, or rather, lack-thereof.

High: Peers. Where I attended church, the closest person in my age group was either 18 (living at home because they haven’t graduated yet), or 37 (with a husband and children). For me, the 26-year-old single, it was difficult to relate to anyone. While I sat on a bus recently, I tried not to get carried away guessing everyone’s age, knowing most were around my age.

Low: It costs! Not only is the tax rate higher in a city, but everywhere you go there is a cost. Cost to park, cost to drive (in the form of a toll), cost of admission. A day out can drain a bank account quickly.

Living in a large city, the choices, the people, all excite me. Yet those highs outweigh the lows of parking, prices, and some other small inconveniences.  I think there are some who disagree, who see my highs as lows, and my lows as highs, and I can respect that. If that’s the case, there’s a town of 49 looking for that 50^th person again. We all have highs and lows.

Book One: We All Married Idiots by Elaine Miller. This humorous look at marriage gets down to the nitty gritty where we all live. Through funny stories and experiences, Elaine puts us all back on the right track wherether we’ve been married 6 months or 49 years.

Book Two: Two Scoops of Grace with Chuckles on Top. This author is one zany, courageous pastor’s wife tackliing taboo subjects like , “Should pastors have sex on Sundays?” (an actual question from someone…..huh?)
and how to rename certain recipes so that teenage boys won’t be embaressed at the dinner table. (Hint…”Please pass the Chicken Chests.”)  You will enjoy this book.

To win, you need to be the first or second person to post a comment. Notice, I didn’t say “Buy my book”. On the contrary, this will cost you no money and you will have a wonderful book sent to you via the U.S.post office. How cool is that? It’s my way of thanking my readers, so hurry and send me your comments on my LAST post. LAST POST, not THIS POST. Leave me your email and I will notify you of the results.

I clicked the button that said, “Send” as a sigh of relief escaped my lips. No looking back now, as the final copy flies through cyberspace to my publisher. No delete key can fix typos, grammatical errors or incoherent thoughts. I think I just leaped off of a fifty foot cliff.

It’s a scary thing to cut up tiny portions of your life and pare your stories with biblical truth. Did I get it right? Will people understand my thoughts? I’m now putting up my experiences for anyone with a pair of reading glasses to scrutinize, critic and evaluate. Why did I write this book? For fame? (not interested) for fortune? (not realistic) All these thought go through any writer’s mind if they have pulled back the tent flaps of their life and share their experiences.

Changing Zip Codes is not the book I’d planned to write. I was going to be the next Beverly Cleary or Anthony dePaola. Children aren’t fickle like adults, if they like your stories they will be loyal. Adults are more into tends.  But if we are following Jesus, we may have to interrupt our plans for His. I experienced an unusual change of directions when I went to a writer’s conference in New Mexico.

I had my very dog-eared Middle Grade novel in hand as I rode from the airport with some other writers to our writing conference. Squeezing into the van I found myself next to a vivacious interior designer named Mitzi, During the hour long drive to the conference grounds we both shared the passions in our lives. She wanted to help people enjoy growing older. I wanted to help women cope with moving. When I said the word, “moving”  I noticed her eyes moisten as her moving story poured out.

Years ago Mitzi, her husband and children moved to another state.  While settling into the new neighborhood she met the woman next door neighbor.  The two struck up a friendship and spent time together with their small children.  A week before Easter, Mitzi remembers looking out her front window at a trail of visitors parked on their street. It seemed her neighbor had put together an Easter party for the kids in her church at her house. Mitzi remembers her two little girls crestfallen as they watched other children ring the front door. She thought, Why didn’t we get invited?  As she told me the story, I could see her emotions still attached to her story.

The next day when I headed for my fiction classes I ran into Mitzi in the hall. She saw I was going right and the nonfiction classes were to the left.  Raising her voice a little too loud for early morning, she said, “Why aren’t you going to the nonfiction class? You’re supposed to write about moving!” A little miffed, I thought, How do you know what I’m supposed to do­­­­- I just met you.  But as her words sunk in I knew she spoke truth. Who else wanted to write about moving? No one I knew. Who had a zillion moving stories?  Again I came up with a blank. I gave Mitzi a quick smile, change my direction and went left.

Last summer I taught at another conference, with my Middle Grade novel still tucked away in my briefcase. I still hoped that even after eleven years and 32 rejection letters, I might publish it. One of my college roommates always said, “Hope springs eternal in the human heart”. As I listened to various editors stand up and tell the attendees what kind of books they are currently seeking, one caught my attention. An acquisitions editor from Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas, Eddie Jones stated that their company wanted “niche” devotionals from authors. Hmmm…I thought, I’ve heard that word “niche” before. It usually showed up in a rejection letter from other editors who felt a moving book just wasn’t of general interest.

I’d never even thought of doing a devotional book. I’m just not that religious. Writers of devotionals need to have gone to seminary, taught ten years of a Bible study and have a very serious, intellectual bent. I sure didn’t fit the mold. I love Jesus but my writing is practical, humorous and anecdotal.

I was more surprised than anyone when I received a contract to write a book for Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas.  I started in, telling myself I’d write one devotion a day. I flew through my assignment until the forty days ended. The forty-first day I had nothing else to say. The well was dry.

It’s a huge endeavor to write even a small book like mine. I’ve been humped over a computer for several months and my posture has paid for it.  It’s called “re-write”. In the last weeks meals have been slap-dapped together and my husband often has mismatched socks. But knowing I’ve encouraged a young mom with toddlers, a recently graduated college student starting a job in a new city, or empty-nester trying to adjust to retirement and a quieter home fills me with unspeakable joy. I want to be there for all of those who have to relocate and I can’t. But my little book can be their friend as they navigate new paths in their life.  If I’ve encouraged one lonely mover how God is always there for them, my job is done.

Here’s to finding  your community,

-Carol

BTW: if you just can’t wait, I have the link to order a book on Amazon.

http://www.amazon.com/Changing-Zip-Codes-Community-Transplanted/dp/0984765557/

I’m also looking for reviewers. Anyone interested, contact me.

As we waited for our table we saw an elderly Chinese lady also anticipating to be seated. Making conversation, we asked if she was expecting someone. A melancholy look passed her face as she told us, no, her husband had died a year ago and she now lived with her daughter’s family. Her daughter worked late so she decided to come to the restaurant to have dinner. My husband, John, and I commented on how alone she seemed on the day designated for lovers.

When we finished the meal, John motioned to the waiter to come to our table. He pointed discreetly to the frail woman sitting at a small table up against the wall and whispered, “Please add her check to ours.”

What a pleasure it was for me to savor how surprised this little widow lady would be when when she realized her bill had been paid. My husband is very generous and that night I felt proud he was not only my Valentine but made another lady’s Valentine’s Day a little less lonely. I know he’d kill me if he knew I‘d posted this because he never makes a big deal out of his big-hearted actions, but more than a large box of chocolates or a shiny pair of earrings, his  kind gesture really made my day.

Do you have a Valentines Day story? I’d love for you to share it.

-Carol

-Carol

What am I giving out? …my heartfelt thanks for your support this year. You have no idea how a little click of your computer’s mouse, and a few typed words can hearten this author.  I send my electronically typed squiggles out into cyberspace hoping they will do their “duty” and encourage. I have no idea if they will. But when I get a word back that I really helped someone sell a house, or motivate them to follow a writing dream, it makes my day (and not in the Clint Eastwoodesque sort of way).  And for those who shared their moving stories, thank you for letting others know they can survive and thrive a relocation.

Writing is a lonely pursuit and as a people person I sometimes wonder if I’m well suited to the isolation.  But I try to follow the Voice I hear in my life. Years ago at a writing conference I heard a small voice in my head telling me to “pursue joy and comfort people”.  It didn’t say, “become a novelist”, or “write children’s books”. It didn’t mention pursuing a career in journalism. It didn’t even use the word “write”. God just stamped a mysterious comment on my brain for me to unravel and figure out.

This Christmas season I hope you will unravel the path He has for you as you experience comfort and joy.

I’ve shared one of my favorite Christmas carols that expresses the possibilities of comfort and joy of Christ in our lives, not only now but all year.  2012 was a rough year for many, but my words to all of us are:  “Let nothing you dismay”.

Circa 1760 (from “Three New Christmas Carols,” Printed and Sold at the Printing-Office on Bow Church-Yard, London):

God rest you merry, Gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ our Savior
Was born upon this Day.
To save poor souls from Satan’s power,
Which long time had gone astray.
Which brings tidings of comfort and joy.

“Our mouths were filled with laughter, our tongues with songs of joy. Then it was said among the nations, ‘The LORD has done great things for them.’”

“A cheerful heart is like medicine.” -Proverbs 17:22

Recently a friend sent me this funny quote from a church bulletin: “Remember in prayer the many that are sick of our community. Smile at someone who is hard to love. Say ‘Hell’ to someone who doesn’t care much about you.”

Pretty funny… but with enough truth to make you think. We who have been in a church community for a while may not realize that some people might be sick of the church! Do we have a reputation of only reporting gloom and doom? Are we convinced people are hard to love where it might be we who are hard to love?

When our church community becomes nothing but a cozy bubble, we turn the church into nothing more than a suffocating place where we can complain and use our inside jokes on each other. That comfortable feeling can put up walls for newcomers and a message that says, “Don’t bother breaking into our group.”

Christ’s community should always be reaching outward. We who have found a new life in Christ should become the most winsome of people. If we reoriented our attitudes and filled them with the Holy Spirit we might be shocked at how many would like to hear our message. Who wouldn’t like to be around happy, joyful people who have a sense of humor? If we offer only deadly dull or harried hyped-up communities of worship, we will be closing the door to those who are searching.

Today, let’s not take ourselves and our family and our church so seriously. Laugh when a teenager says something crazy. Tell a story on yourself. Show the world you are human and a Christian.

Authenticity is what the world is looking for. And as an extra bonus you’ll be healthier.

Taken from: Finding Community Wherever You Are devotional book to be published in 2012 by Lighthouse Publishing of the Carolinas.

Ever curious about your town? What is the average income, education, or length of time your neighbors own their home? How about racial demographics and maritial demographics? Do your fellow citizens work mainly in construction, farming or management? How much water or land density is in your zip code? How about age groups?  Check out Zipskinny for a very detailed view of your area. This fascinating website will teach you a thing or two about your hometown as well as comparing it to the average national statistics.

The website is www.zipskinny.com. Have fun!

Here’s the article:

http://finance.yahoo.com/real-estate/article/113734/best-cities-car-free-247