How I am, Really.

I love New Orleans. This city is amazing, beautiful, full of architecture that is breathtaking. The first week after we arrived, when I drove through town to see the community that we would move into, my initial reaction was I will stay here, if I can. I want to be a part of this history, this vibrant community, this will to thrive in spite of horrendous odds. New Orleans has a spirit that you can feel; the people here love their city, and have fought for her.

That said, I am lonely. I am depleted. The end of every day finds me angry at my children for being childish, my husband for not meeting my every need, myself for my innumerable failures. I'm not sure that God wants to hear from me, or if he does, that he's willing to act on my behalf. Does he expect me to rely on him completely? What does that even look like? What does it look like to not have a friend made of skin with whom to converse?

Yes, we have found a church, a wonderful place with lots of children. I'm sure that we will make wonderful friendships there. But that is going to take time.

I have not found a homeschooling community. My hippy-ish ways are foreign here. If I go to a park during normal school hours, I'll have to explain the craziness that is having three children five and under at home by choice.

At the end of the night, when I'm free to leave, to find a place to grab some coffee and walk around, I don't know where to go. One of the beauties, but also the drawbacks, of a true city is the lack of chain establishments that offer familiarity in unfamiliar places (except the Walmart, and that is just wrong… on so many levels). And I haven't found myself desperate or brave enough yet to just drive away in the dark and explore by myself.

So I'm taking it day by day. Trying to find the balance between relying on God to meet my needs, but acknowledging that I am only human and I am made for relationship. I need a friend.

God will meet me here, of this I am sure. He has met me far from home before. But in the meantime, I am trudging through a valley, admittedly, a beautiful valley, alone.