Two Years

Two years ago today, we left Vashon Island for good—me driving our jam-packed Jetta and Tim driving the truck, Bertha, which was topped somewhat precariously by the frame of our greenhouse. It rained as we drove and I cried a little. Behind us was the little farmhouse we'd spent a very happy first year of marriage in. 

 

All we knew was that God had opened every door for this move to the Upper Skagit and, in my case, given me the boot through them all (lovingly). It seemed to be the right hard thing to do. 

Tonight, as we walked a six-mile loop around Elysium Farms and the neighborhood, this overwhelming joy and peace bubbled up inside me when I remembered the anniversary. Our walk took us through thickets of snowberry that now look like a green haze from afar, as the shrubs begin to leaf out; past the swift Skagit along a cobbled beach; across a pasture with views of still-snowy hills draped in puffy clouds; through dense mossy woods with surprise splashes of trillium here and there. And all of it aglow in evening sun. 

 

 

 

Some aspects of settling in here were not easy, like finding friends and coping with loneliness, and figuring out if we should stay when Tim's job at the winery, which had brought us here, became negative and unsustainable. But other parts of it have always felt natural and right: gardening; walks on the trail; sharing the beauty of it with family, neighbors, our landlords; growing my business here; and enjoying it all with Tim. We have felt nurtured here and, especially in the last year, rooted. 

Now, I am so thankful to be able to say we have friends—awesome friends!—and even a small group of young married couples that meets every week at our home, and shares dinner and bible study together. Tim has an amazing job right here on Elysium Farms, which we couldn't have guessed about when we moved. God has been faithful to provide these two things in the last year, and I give him all the glory for that.