At the farmer’s market, we have our very favorite booths.
There’s the sweet mom and daughter duo, who make the best homemade jellies you have ever tried. We put in a bulk order for their blackberry jelly yesterday, and every time we head over with the kids, they make sweet comments about how well behaved they are. I hold my breath and thank them graciously… because I know we’re a step away from an ill-fated zombie game turned shoving war where they knock over the entire display and then we’re stuck with a lifetime purchase worth of cowboy relish with nothing to show for it. We picked up a jar of her honey, and are absolutely smitten.
And that honey, goes great on the homemade yeast rolls that the cake lady bakes. Every time we grab something from her delicious collection, she slides a few new samples into our bag. We laugh about how we’re going to gain weight and we buy more anyway because life is short. This week we grabbed a homemade strawberry cake, and on her suggestion, cinnamon bread, which I promptly inhaled with absolutely no guilt whatsoever after my morning run.
There’s the booth with the best plums. Not the sweet kind, though we do love those… but the really small, tart ones. The ones that bite back: Nature’s candy. I was in the studio when Malone sauntered in and stood beside my desk, swaying slightly. “When are we going back to the farmer’s market?” He asked. And I realized it was the slightly guilty sway he does where he turns his head to the side and pivots a little. It was a few minutes later when his older brother ratted him out that I realized he’d devoured the entire pound within an hour, with the exception of three lone plums on the kitchen countertop. We cut him off, and then braced ourselves for the tummy aches that were sure to ensue.
He was totally fine, though a little intoxicated on plum juice with a nice tale-tale side of the hiccups.
And then there’s the veggie booth. Where we grab up our corn {so fresh, there’s still some silk attached}, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, butter beans… and green beans.
We cook it all, and make a new addition each week, living most of the week off our fresh veggie supply.
I’m not sure what possessed him, but Jamin decided to purchase an entire bushel of green beans yesterday. The sweet veggie lady made us an epic deal, and I’m not really sure why I went along with it, but I did.
So here we are, with an entire bushel of green beans. Ready to snap + cook. {And freeze.}
I remember my grandmother snapping green beans growing up. That, and pecans. There’s something about that earthy smell, and the fresh sound. She would sometimes do with the background noise of her ‘stories’ but only right after The Price is Right… like a southern rite of passage, I would sit down beside her and partake.
We would cheer for the lady who won the car, and then I would ask her to update me on Victor’s latest scandal. Those hands busy all the while.
There’s something cathartic about it really.
Something refreshingly simple.
We’ve been through all the stages in the cycle now… and we’ve come to rest at acceptance. That place of odd calm, where we’ve decided to stop struggling and start living again. Even though we’re not sure where to begin.
Our home went up on the market this March, and I feel like every time I mention it, people wonder why it hasn’t sold yet. I haven’t said much, because I don’t want to jeopardize anything for us, and so we’re just waiting. It’s honestly just the market we’re in. We were so ready for a fresh start. We so need it. Even homeschooling has been difficult… It’s like I can feel our passion behind it dwindling a little. We can still see where we’re supposed to go, but we’re having to wait for it. And accept the waiting.
Rewind a little to this time last year… and Jamin resigned from his job of twelve years as a youth minister. It was this refreshing freedom that came with it all. But when you lose your church and school in the process of a relatively short time span, things are different. You go through a little bit of a withdrawal process of redefining who you are, looking for the best new fits for your children and family, all while preparing to relocate… to start over. It’s complicated. And freeing. But also scary. We went through a few more things we can’t mention here, and so to sum it all up, we’ve been in an interesting place.
Interesting places can be hard, sometimes.
Especially when the reality hits you that the thing you love, this website, suddenly supports your family. In short, it kind of feels like crap got real, and it’s all resting on my shoulders.
And total first world problems, because I’m not here to complain. I’m sharing, because it’s just a part of our own journey. We’re humbled and grateful. But I am here to admit that sometimes, I take things a little too seriously. A perfectionist to the core, I make things a little too complicated.
Sometimes, I’m guilty of making the hard things harder when I struggle, and try to take control.
Jamin said yesterday, that the best worst thing that ever happened to me, was quitting his job. Years of it, in the trenches of ministry, and suddenly we’re standing in this place of redefinition, trying to figure it all out.
And in that process, I feel like I lost my voice, here.
I’m the person on the ropes course, when they tell you not to look down. Not to panic. The process is long and hard, and I need to stay calm. I freaked out a little.
I lost me. I lost who I am. In the desire to support our family and do more and be more and strive for more… I made it complicated. I made it hard. Harder than it needs to be.
Somewhere, somehow, the joy escaped.
I let it escape.
I’ve been struggling, facing these changes and opposition and scary places we found ourselves in, covering it up with whatever I could hide behind… until I figured out why.
We have a lot of fun plans. Stars in our eyes. And we can’t wait to share some of them when we can. When it feels like it’s right. But we’ve been asked to wait. And that has to be okay. More than okay, really. Because we’re a part of a plan that’s bigger than us. It’s just not the same timeline we had all figured out. Isn’t that how it always is?
We’re learning you have to embrace where you are, and just… breathe.
I was on the phone yesterday with a wise friend, and when I asked her where my voice had gone, she gently told me in her own way, to breathe. Just breathe. I burst into tears and used an explicative to express myself and then laughed. And then I thanked her, because she was right. We all need a friend like that.
And so I am breathing.
And we’re still here. And we’ve made a decision.
Rather than being bitter, which is easy to do… rather than withdrawing… rather than complaining and struggling with our attitudes, we are embracing where we are. In the waiting. There is this beautiful place of not giving up hope, but just relinquishing control. In learning to truly be still, this is a lesson I’ve had to learn over and over and over again. And here I am, sitting at the Master’s feet all over again… listening, waiting. Learning the art of patience. We know it’s time, and we know where we’re called for the next chapter, but we’ve been asked to sit on that final page for a while.
Because there’s a lot going on behind the scenes that we just can’t see yet.
So yesterday, we visited the farmer’s market. And we picked up that entire {slightly insane} bushel of green beans, and sat around the table, snapping them together as a family.
We want our kids to enjoy where we live, while we’re still here. We want them to find joy where we are. There’s a truth I’ve learned that stings a little when it comes from the mouth of babes, and it’s that they will reflect where you are with their own attitudes.
So while we were out yesterday, we decided to visit a local landmark with the kids. We went to Old Alabama Town, and had an impromptu history lesson, appreciating the place where are are, right now. And we plan to keep doing that, enjoying the city… until the day we load up that moving truck to relocate. Because we’re still here.
At the end of the day in that heat, we sat around the table, and snapped those green beans.
We talked about how our city is rich in history.
We talked about the difference in how people lived back then.
We had discussions about the mistreatment of slaves. How unfair it was. And for the first time, it resonated with them how wrong it is to treat someone differently because of the color of their skin… or just because of the way they look. A lesson they already know, but with a harsh reality behind it, for fresh eyes to discover all over again. It finally made a difference in their young minds.
And just when things got deep, true to childhood, the topic was switched to our favorite dinosaurs, and they begged us {again} to see Jurassic World.
Emerson predicted our futures with the green beans. Apparently I’m supposed to be a hair dresser when I turn eighteen.
I won’t tell her yet that the ship has sailed.
Fitz discovered that she liked chewing on the little green bean pieces,
And since Rigby is afraid of the bench, I actually caught her passing some pieces to her… where she promptly devoured them.
Who knew dogs had such a love for green beans?
Who knew we did?
So we’re working on where we are. That process that has been years in the making, of changing us into who we are. Of struggling and then accepting where we are right now, whole heartedly.
Of calming our hearts, and learning while we’re still here.
Because these are the things that really matter.
And I’m working on finding my voice again.
In the middle of the laughter and stories and being present.
One green bean at a time.
Jenn says
So many green beans!! How long did it take you guys to snap them? I need to try this with my family. We need some calm hearts. To much going on. Thanks for reminding me. Love the post.
ashley @ the handmade home says
Hey! We did them two nights ago, and hope to finish up today! It is quite the load of green beans! We may never go hungry again! ;} But I highly recommend it.
Mary Harris says
Girl, you found your voice. It is loud and succinct. But, just like when we hear our own voice on a tape recording and swear we sound nothing like THAT, you are having to to get used to the NEW sound…. your new voice. And from here it sounds melodic and clear! The best of luck to you….. though there is no luck involved. You are creating your future… day by day by day. – Mary
PS, and the photography is gettin’ real good, too!
ashley @ the handmade home says
Mary – your comment is so kind, I could just hug you. Thank you so much! ;}
Sarah P. says
Just love. LOVE! We can all breathe together. đ
ashley @ the handmade home says
Thank you so much, Sarah!
Kirsten - Sweet Tea & Saving Grace says
I absolutely adore you, your sweet family, your view of the world you’re in right here and now. Can I tell you something kinda funny?
When I was little, all the way up until I was 13, I spent summers at my grandparent’s farm in Darlington, SC. We’d spend hours picking peas, green beans, and pecans. Papa would always slice open a watermelon for an after-lunch snack. Me and Mama would sit on the porch with big bowls in our laps, the summer heat making us sweat but we didn’t care. We’d talk for hours and snap beans together.
I vividly remember how she loved watching The Bold & The Beautiful, and vacuumed during commercials. At night, I’d climb up in Papa’s pleather recliner, sit in his lap, and we’d eat Breyer’s vanilla bean ice cream straight out of the carton with 2 spoons, and we’d watch Hee-Haw.
Such sweet, sweet memories. Thank you for bringing them back to life for me today. My grandparent’s passed within 6 months of one another when I was 13 and OH how I miss that place!
And now I’m crying…happy tears. Happy summer. đ XOXO
ashley @ the handmade home says
Awe – I adore you and your sweet story! Now I’M tearing up! Thank you for sharing your sweet memories!
Lauren English says
This is such a beautiful and heartfelt post. Thanks for sharing so vulnerably about your journey as God calls your family out of youth ministry and into something new and unknown. I just found your blog recently, but love hearing this about your heart and am excited to keep following along as y’all move forward into whatever comes next! Thanks for sharing this…the internet needs more people as brave as y’all are!
ashley @ the handmade home says
Lauren – thank you so much. Some days… okay most. I feel like a big fat chicken. So thank you. I almost didn’t hit publish and Jamin basically shoved me from behind… like a good husband ;} Hugs to you!
Karianne Wood says
If I were a green bean…..I’d choose you.
Just because your heart is so sweet.
đ me
Lorraine Richie says
We seem be in a similar place of needing change, knowing where we want to be and having to wait right where we are. Through all of this, we know that God is good no matter what!
I loved this post – full of sweet goodness from memories of the past, gifts of the present and it sounds like some thoughts of the future (lol)! Here’s to living right where He has placed us and holding in to the hope of tomorrow!!
Karen fulner says
beautiful!
Michael @ CraftyDad.com says
I love you guys. I really do.
Everything will work out. It always does.
We may not like the end result, but hey — we’re not in charge.
Enjoy the rest of your summer. Squeeze every drop of joy out of every day.
It’s hard some days. Damned hard. I know.
You guys are in my thoughts and prayers — always.
“This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24
: )
ashley @ the handmade home says
Thank you for making me cry this morning, Michael. You are a sweet, sweet soul. Those encouraging words from someone else also in the trenches mean a lot! HUGS to you! ;} Have an amazing Friday!
Rebecca says
My husband, children, dog, cat and I went through a similar jump last year. My husband quit his job, that he loved, so that we could pack up and move back to the States after living abroad for 6 years. We knew this kind of upheaval of home with no job lined up would not be easy AND we could not foresee many of the extra hardships that were to come, but WE MADE IT to the other side! After 9 months of waiting in limbo, jobless, in the most stressful time of my life, he found another job that he now loves. Now we are living in a wonderful new place on this beautiful earth. Five months into this new life we are still working to heal and regain strength but in the end I have few regrets. Our search for change, for a better life for our little family, was all worth it in the end.
Your blog has always made me feel not alone. Thank you for sharing your life, and the brave ways we find away through. I know you guys will find what you are looking for in the end. The waiting is just the hardest part. I so admire you for keeping it together so well!!!!
SantĂŠ!
Rebecca