Do justice, love mercy...

Jess: Wes and I have both expressed frustration with the recent $40 billion cuts to SNAP.Personally, I have been disgusted with the way many of my friends and family are reacting to this—with joy. I am so sick of hearing/seeing comments like “Stop being lazy and get a job!” or “Why should I pay for someone else to eat just because they’re too lazy to work?”

Let’s get something straight. Most people do not choose to be poor, to be on food stamps, to be on welfare or any other form of assistance. It’sembarrassing. It can make adults feel useless and unproductive, and children feel excluded from “normal” life. Sure, there are probably—definitely—people taking advantage of the system, and we should work to eliminate that. I am perfectly okay with periodic drug testing and other such reforms. But simply cutting funding to human beings is not cool. And I am especially disappointed when I hear these things from my Christian friends, people who read or hear week in and week out about the God of justice, the God who cares for the poor and needy and requires that all God’s people do the same.

Wes and I are living proof that poor people are not lazy. We have been fortunate enough throughout our marriage that we have not had to be on any sort of public assistance. But just barely. When we first got married, we were digging into our savings each month just to pay for health insurance, a relatively small car payment, groceries, rent, and gas so that I could work. Either I had to get a second job (and we already barely saw each other due to my schedule) or Wes had to work part-time and go to school full-time. We were blessed that Wes was appointed to the churches and we even had a parsonage.

Although I would never call our financial situation for the next three years “comfortable,” it was much better. After Wes got his job, the laws changed and we were both able to go back on our parents’ insurance, leaving us responsible only for copays instead of monthly payments. Our car insurance went down as we remained safe drivers. We were able to go out to eat with friends on occasion and not wonder how we would pay my student loans that month if we did. We were able to build our savings back up again and save for a second car, which we needed when I started school.

Having James didn’t significantly change our financial situation, but only because we have wonderful friends and family who helped with the cost of furniture, diapers, clothes, and other necessities. Then we moved, and everything changed again. First came the moving costs themselves. Although both the Southwest Texas Methodist Conference and Triumphant helped with moving costs, we had to get a car, two adults, two cats, and a 6-month-old from New Jersey to Texas. Then we had a month where we had no home because we were waiting for Wes’ job to start. Then we waited another couple of weeks before he got paid. We went two months with no paycheck and we’re still hurting. While we are earning well above the poverty level (I can’t imagine living on that), we are in no way “stable.”

Our savings has suffered because of the long stretch without income. We had to buy a second car so I could commute to work—which also increased our gas expenditures. As when we bought Wes’ car, we found that the only way to save money buying used was to buy a car so old we would soon be spending tons of money to keep it running. So we took on another loan. Wes’ school loans came out of deferment in August. And about half of my paycheck each month goes to putting James in childcare—which is cheap, comparatively.

We are not lazy. We work hard. Both of us worked through college; both of us have worked at least part time through seminary. The cost of the education that is required for us to be in the vocation to which we are called is ridiculous. The cost of living in NJ was almost unbearable. If we didn’t have health insurance through Wes now, we wouldn’t be able to afford it for the family. If we didn’t have the parsonage through Wes, we wouldn’t be able to afford to live somewhere decent, either. If I lost my job for some reason, we might make it. But if Wes did, we would be in serious trouble.

And there are many, many people in this country who are way worse off than we are. Please don’t call them lazy. Please don’t assume they aren’t trying. Please recognize that there are MANY factors that go into this problem, and most of them are systemic, not individual. Please pray for those who cannot support themselves or their families. I can’t imagine how terrifying that must be. 

(Some interesting charts to see.)

Wes: Hey, friends. Something has been bothering me for a while, and I’ve been trying to figure out how best to broach the subject. I still haven’t decided if this is the right medium for it, but here goes:

I’m worried. I’m worried about America. I’m worried about the church. I’m worried about the world in which we live.

Two weeks ago, there was a mass shooting in the Naval yard just outside of Washington D.C. I found out about it because a parishioner was watching T.V. and called me to make sure I knew about it. I jumped on my computer and read story after story of the incident, my heart breaking as yet another community in our nation was hit with the onslaught of needless violence. People died. Others were seriously injured.

And no one said a thing about it on my Facebook feed all day.

Now, I’m not so attached to social media that I think that this is the only place people share their thoughts, reactions, and emotions. But it does serve as basically a data dump for everyone with whom I’m “friends”, so that I can see exactly what they thought was relevant and important enough at the time that they posted it on their walls. Here are a list of a few of the things that I did see:

·          Articles from The Onion

·          Pictures of food

·          Memes… so many memes…

·          Statuses about football

·          Religious quotes and Scripture references

·          A Boy Meets World video (Okay, I posted this one because I needed to smile)

Now, this tells me a few things about my friends (as well as the major political and religious figures that I “follow”)—mainly, that they either don’t watch the news, or the fact that innocent people were shot and killed so close to our nation’s capital was not considered important enough to beat out that link to a GIF of a cat dancing for prominence on my Newsfeed.

And it’s not only online that I was unpleasantly surprised by the lack of response to this. I spent a good deal of my office hours on the 16^th in Starbucks, working on stuff, but also listening to the people around me. There must have been over 200 people who came through that coffee shop while I was sitting inside, and not a single person said anything about the shooting.

Are we getting to a point in our culture where just don’t care anymore?

Have we reached a new level of apathy, where we think that if it’s not happening directly in front of us that is doesn’t actually impact us?

Why don’t we care more that innocent men, women, and children are dying around the world due to war, violence, starvation, and disease? Why are we splitting hairs over minor details in laws and governmental funding when parents who are working as hard as they can are unable to provide food for their children? Why aren’t more people worried about the fact that there aren’t more people worried?

Now, I don’t want to come across as high and mighty in this. I know I’m right in the middle of it. I have accepted the call upon my life to be God’s voice in the world, which includes saying the hard things at times. I have a soapbox in the form of a pulpit that I can utilize on a weekly basis to talk about these kinds of things. And you know what? For the most part, I don’t. I see the hurting, I see the pain, I hear of the horrendous things happening, and I think to myself “someone should care more”, or “someone should say or do something.”

To quote Relient K, “I’m part of the problem, I confess, but I gotta get this off my chest.”

On September 16^th, 2013, thirteen people were shot to death. We should care about this. We should hurt because of this. We should fall down in prayer to a God who has promised to make all things new, and pray for restoration in the midst of horrible brokenness.

And we should be worried if we are not doing these things. 

Metheran Struggles

Jess: I’m nearing the end of the first month of my internship, and the Metheran family is adjusting to our new life: two parents working full-time and a child in daycare.

This has been a pretty tough transition for me. As the weeks of the summer dwindled down, I began to question my desire to do an internship. I was having SO much fun with James every day, as well as getting to do some things I haven’t had time for since seminary started—like reading books because I want to or playing Lego Harry Potter. So some of my reasons were pretty selfish, but others were vocational.

I have no doubt that I have been called to serve God as an ordained pastor. It took me many years to be able to say that, and there are definitely days where I still question what that means. Probably most days. Yet I also have no doubt that I have been called to be a mother—a mother to James, a mother to his future biological sibling(s), and a mother to children in foster and potentially adoptive care. I have known of this calling for the majority of my life. Yet in all the years that I spent thinking about these dual callings, I never thought about how they would function in one life.

I never thought that leaving my child in someone else’s care for the majority of the week would be so hard on me. Throughout the last 6 months or so, Wes and I have debated every possibility for childcare. We talked about utilizing the Mother’s Day Out program at TLC, and the Baptist Church in Kyle. But these places didn’t offer late enough hours or flexibility. We talked about a nanny, but I knew we couldn’t afford the level or hours of care that we needed. We talked about regular daycare, but I had no desire to send James to daycare—and it is very difficult to separate the “good for James” daycares from the others.

So we searched high and low for home daycare, and finally one of Wes’ parishioners told us about her neighbor. We clicked automatically, she was willing to work with our crazy work schedule, cloth diapering, homemade food, and other random things, and we loved the setting. (It doesn’t hurt that Wes’ parishioner can pop in if we’re ever concerned). But I refused to take James on my first day, and I still have a hard time dropping him off. This is made even more difficult on days when James is obviously having a hard day—I feel like I’m doing something wrong by leaving him.

For now, I am reassuring myself by remembering that James will remember the general feelings of his younger years, if that. He will remember laughing with Mom and Dad, reading on the couch, hugs, encouragement, learning, and being loved. He will not remember the day, earlier this week, when I picked him up and he bawled. The point is quality, not quantity.

But I also wonder if this is what our life should look like for years to come. After my internship, I will be “going back” to school. I will take online and intensive courses, but, for the most part, I will be hanging out with James every day for another year. How will that affect my call into ordained ministry? Are there times when one or the other call will reign? Can I realistically balance these at all times until all of my children start their own lives? Being a part-time mom isn’t an option for me, and there have already been days where I feel like that’s what I am. This year is certainly filled with excitement already! 

Wes: I think that the past month of transitions has been a little easier on me, mainly because I never really stopped transitioning from one thing to another since we moved back down in May. First, there was the literal movement from New Jersey to Texas. Then there was the change from transience to permanence as we actually got to move into our new home almost exactly an entire month after moving down here. Then there was the shift from part-time ministry to vacation/Sabbath season to full-time ministry. Finally, we’ve not had the transition from one of us working full-time and the other staying home with James to both of us working and James in home care.

Does life ever take a break?

It helps that James is such a happy baby most of the time. Also that he seems to really enjoy being at Miss Jamie’s. We haven’t had to deal with a breakdown at drop-off or pick-up yet, thank the Lord. But it’s still hard. I loved and cherished every minute of my lunch breaks during my first month at KUMC, when I could come home and know I would be greeted by both my wife and the cutest baby to ever crawl over the earth.

Oh, also, James is crawling now.

But we deal. It’s all part of life, apparently, so you kinda have to deal with it. You do what you gotta do, and that’s that.

We’ve also discovered just how challenging the time-juggling is going to be for us Metherans. We don’t have the extra money to pay a babysitter, so when we both have meetings at our churches on the same night of the week, one of us has to take James to that meeting. Now, we’ve really lucked out a couple of times because James has some amazing grandparents and uncles who love to be around him. A few sticky situations were avoided when Mega-Me (My dad. Yeah, that’s right. His grandpa name is Mega-Me. Be jealous) came to play with James while Jess and I took care of church stuff. Next month, Grandma K (Jess’ mom. Not as awesome as Mega-Me) will play with James all week while I am out at a retreat and Jess is working. They’ve been life savers.

But it’s hard. It’s hard knowing that the precious little time of each day that we should be able to spend with James, we are instead stuck in finance or council or whatever other meetings. Not that those meetings are not important or not worth attending—I fully believe they are (for the most part) essential—but baby always trumps (potentially boring) meeting.

Hopefully, we’ll become better jugglers of time and better Tetris players of schedules. And, hopefully, we’ll find some way to remember that God’s going to see us through, even if we can’t spend as much time with James as either of us would like.

Well, that's all for now. You stay classy, World Wide Web. 

-jess and wes

I.I.W.K.O.T.W.

Jess: Here we are again, writing about something that is way more complicated than we probably understand, but it’s relevant and needs to be discussed.

Syria. One of those countries that a whole lot of Americans probably never heard of before the last few weeks. Now it’s all over the news. Admittedly, Wes and I don’t get the newspaper or watch the news, but we do keep up with things online. Honestly, I prefer the way things are presented online, and it’s easier to catch up on while I’m feeding James. 
Anyway, if you’re unsure of anything we’re talking about, go here. There are several links after the article that can give you even more information on Syria and the current situation.


I don’t like war. I don’t like knowing that there is war going on in countries all over the world as I’m writing this. I don’t like the idea of people killing other people. I don’t like that they do it to make a point, to punish someone, to get their way, or even out of seemingly protecting others. I really don’t like the idea that there are people who truly enjoy doing so. As someone who wants to believe that people have the capacity for good, it is very difficult for me to know that there are individuals and groups who will kills thousands of people just to get their way. 

For me, war seems like a macrocosm of a fight between two children. Each side knows what they want, and maybe they even tried to explain it rationally at some point. Eventually, however, they are just throwing things, calling names, taking what was not theirs to begin with, and justifying it all by thinking that the other person started the whole mess. No one is innocent in war. Rarely is anyone completely justified. And yet it seems to be a perpetual part of the human condition. 

I heard about President Obama’s leaning toward military action and immediately rejected the idea. Although military action seems to be unceasing in the US, we still think that we are called to be the worlds’ police force. And yet Martin Luther says that there is a time and place to take action on behalf of your brother or sister, even when it is inappropriate to take action on one’s own account. How do we know what is the right time? How do we know what is the right force? Even for someone who hates war, I kind of understand the idea of sending some missiles into hopefully unoccupied areas in retaliation for Assad using chemical weapons. But how do we know that these places will be empty? How do we know they won’t be full of something that will destroy people, animals, and land for miles? How do we know Assad won’t retaliate?


At some point, we have to say “enough!” We are called to care for the other, for the earth and all created things. We have done a terrible job of that, but this just shows our broken nature. I don’t have the answer to this, but I will continue praying for Syrians, our president, and other leaders around the world as yet another part of God’s creation is destroyed by human hands. 

Wes: Once again we find ourselves talking about something that we cannot solve. I don't know about y'all, but I often find myself daydreaming about "if I were king of the world." If I were king of the world, things would be a lot different. Healthcare would be completely funded by the government as a means of eradicating disease. I.I.W.K.O.T.W., education would be as well: as long as the student was maintaining a certain level of achievement, each person could earn up to a doctorate in whatever field they chose. That way, I.I.W.K.O.T.W., jobs would be secured based on an individual's merit and level of comprehension, not based on how much money they had or could obtain. I.I.W.K.O.T.W., everybody (even myself) would be by law expected to know or learn at least three languages.


And I.I.W.K.O.T.W., there would be no war. 


If all of that sounds good, someone should start working on installing me. I have a few other ideas as well. 


But Syria. 


Man it sucks, knowing that around the world, there are people killing other people. There are days when I cannot fathom this. It does not compute with my life experience (thanks be to God), and I just don't understand it. Other days, it seems to be almost common--as if I'm desensitized from it. Of course it happens; it's a fact of life. 


And with Syria, I gotta tell you, the more I read about it, the more and more I worry about how it will finally end. That first Washington Post article that Jess hyperlinked talks about Russia and Iran's part in all of this: that's scary! The idea that two countries have a stake in allowing this civil war to continue because of arms trade and bad feelings toward surrounding countries is ridiculous. Now China has stood up and said they will have no part in it, the UK has taken a hands-off stance, and everyone else is either joining them or staying quiet. 


Now, part of me says that even if everyone else turns their back on injustice, that doesn't mean we do the same. People are dying, and their government is supposedly (since it was never confirmed) using world-banned weapons. Someone needs to do something. 


But all of me shouts that trying to quell violence with more violence doesn't work, that escalation is not the answer. Not now. Not ever. 


My dad was sent overseas for three different tours of duty: two to Iraq and one to Afghanistan. When it comes to government and the military, he is my personal go-to information person. We don't always agree on everything, but I value his thoughts and opinions more than any other on these sorts of topics. When I asked him what he would do with this conflict if he were king of the world, he said he'd take out Bashar al-Assad. No bombs. No civilian casualties. Just one strike team to go in and clean up this mess. 


Maybe that's the answer. I don't know. All I know is that I have been called to take the hard line on issues like this and preach peace. No exceptions. No rationalizing. Peace. Non-violent, self-sacrificing, even. In cases like this, maybe that means the U.S. showing its muscle by brow-beating everyone into a world-wide trade embargo against the Syrian government until al-Assad steps down. But you know, even that would most likely meant not only continued bloodshed for the foreseeable future, but also starvation and death due to lack of resources as well.


Which would mean, as always, the people who are going to lose the most in this war are the truly innocent, on neither the side of the government nor the rebels. The people who are going to lose the most are the least of these, those very people to whom Christ called us to minister. 


Damn. This is hard. If only I were king of the world...

Shabbat!

Jess: Wes gave a pretty decent sermon on the Sabbath this last Sunday. It really got me thinking about how we treat the Sabbath day. Then it got me thinking—what IS the Sabbath?

What is the day of rest that we have after seven days of work? I think for many people, this is Saturday. They work Monday-Friday and perhaps have had activities on Sunday. For others, maybe Sunday is the Sabbath. I know that for awhile, my mom and Chris were attending Saturday night services because that gave them all of Sunday to be in rest.

For Wes and I, at least for this coming year, Thursday will be our Sabbath. Although I firmly believe that the day in which we come together to worship can be Sabbath, that is just not the case for pastors. Sunday is a workday—perhaps the biggest workday of all. It is the day toward which the rest of the week looks, and the day on which much of the work done throughout that week culminates. So we will be observing our Sabbath on Thursdays.

What does Sabbath mean for us today, though? There are many, many laws and regulations regarding the Sabbath in Jewish law and history. We even have some perceived laws regarding Sundays in Christianity today. I know my family always went out to eat on Sunday afternoons. By the time we got out of church and into “regular” clothes, no one wanted to think about cooking. So part of our restfulness included not cooking for ourselves—we also usually had leftovers for dinner. Yet our Sabbath meant that someone else was not having a Sabbath. Part of God’s law says, “On [the Sabbath], you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates.” God goes on to say that God rested, and so should we.

One of my biggest struggles with Sabbath is determining what constitutes Sabbath for myself and my family. If even the resident alien is not supposed to work, should I go to Starbucks, forcing this stranger to make coffee for me? Yet by not going to Starbucks, I don’t change the fact that it is open.  If my Sabbath day continues to be Thursday for years, but James needs help with homework, does that mean that  I cannot help him? Is that too much work?

It is easy to get bogged down by the rules of Sabbath—whether those that God clearly states or those we create for our own sake. But the purpose of Sabbath is clear: we are called to break from our routine of work as God did. Resting rejuvenates us, so Sabbath is about doing that which accomplishes this. For an introvert, that might mean reading a book alone. For Wes and I, who are apart all week, it might mean a date—or time spent with James. For the manual laborer, it means resting his or her hands. For the person who sits inside all day, maybe it means spending time in nature.

The point is, no matter what our routine, God calls us to take a break from it each week. This is for our own good, for the sake of our relationship with God, and for the sake of others. Wes and I will continue to wrestle with what Sabbath means for us throughout this year and beyond, and we invite you to share your struggles and joys as well!

Wes: Did everyone see that Jess said I gave a decent sermon? Let the record show. 

If anyone would like to see that sermon, it--along with all of my other sermons at KUMC!--can be found on my other blog, here. I don't actually know if anyone watches them. Since I started sharing the video clip, the few and far between comments that I used to get altogether disappeared. But, if you want to check it out, there it is. 

So Sabbath for me is a weird time. I feel like I have to work to rest, which doesn't make any sense. I totally get the idea that we have to prepare for a full day of rest--such as making sure meals are planned out (if you're into that) and all the work that might need to be done is done the day before--but that's different than having to actively work at not working or breaking out of your regular routine. 

One of the ways we've tried as a family to do this is to limit our electronics usage on our Sabbath day. This seems to be harder for me than it is for Jess. I honestly don't feel super attached to Facebook, and I don't feel the need to reply immediately every time I receive a text, but I do enjoy being connected with others and being able to be in constant dialogue with my friends. It's one of the ways that I maintain my extrovertivity. (Yes, I made up a word. Go with it). So it's harder for me to put my phone away and not think about it. This is the part of Sabbath that takes some work on my part. 

Other aspects of Sabbath are not as taxing. One of the things that has been rather nice about our Sabbaths this summer is that I've used many of them to complete projects around the house. Now, this might sound weird, as many (even myself) consider this to be working, but in a very real way, these projects--like building a bookshelf for James and fixing the backyard fence--allow me to spend some time working my hands and making something for the world to see, which is something that my day-to-day job rarely allows. 

My brother, Tomas, didn't really understand this when I told him about it. He works full-time for a re-modeling company, putting up sheet rock and wall paper. He works with his hands on a daily basis. So when I told him that this kind of activity is rewarding and rejuvenating for me, it didn't make sense. For him, taking a day to read a good book or spend around people doing nothing is a wonderful break from routine, whereas I spend most of my week reading in preparation for preaching/teaching and in community with others. This is time well spent for me, and I absolutely love it, but a Sabbath full of the same type of activity as any other day is not really a Sabbath. 

Well, Jess gave a wonderful little lesson on what the Sabbath is. I just spouted out words about it for a little while. I hope at least part of this is edifying for you and helps you in your own walk as you try to live out God's commandment to honor the Sabbath and keep it holy. 

For now, though, you stay classy, World Wide Web!

-wes and jess

Mommy Wars: Jessica Strike Back

Wes: So, I'm not going to be saying much in this post, which is why I am writing first. The reason is simple: when it comes to issues like this, my place is to give support, listen when she needs to talk/vent/scream, and help out in any way that I can. All of that was to say, this is an extremely important issue, and I hope y'all understand the pain, emotion, and deep love for James behind this post. And you know what, it's not just for James. This is a much bigger issue. Like, global, in how we understand, talk about, and support Mothers and Fathers in every society who are working to ensure the future of humanity. 

Jess: So there is this thing called the "Mommy Wars." These battles can be about parents who feel inadequate because they don't throw their child a perfectly planned over-the-top party for every birthday, Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, half birthday, etc. Others are about women comparing how quickly they returned to their "pre-baby body," a myth in itself since your body fundamentally changes (for example, I now have wider hips, which isn't something that can just be dieted and exercised away). Some of these battles are over how to properly move your child from bottle/breast to solid foods. And these are just the arguments going on about having babies and young children. I can't imagine what happens in elementary school, and I'm not ready to even think about it.

The point is, parents, who are doing arguably the hardest job in the world, are also having to compete with one another about which way is best. Which is crap. Truly honest pregnancy and baby-raising books talk about the range of "normal" in any baby's behavior, development, habits, etc. Each one of these children is an individual, a special human being with its own personality that shows in certain ways from birth. My mom likes to tell me that even as an infant, I liked being independent--I didn't really want to be held unless I was being fed. My brother was the exact opposite. How can we possibly say that one way of raising a child is fundamentally better than another? More importantly, even if one thing really IS better than the other, shouldn't we be supporting each other as parents, rather than competing? The saying goes that it takes a whole village to raise a child--so what happens when that whole "village" is locked in heated battle after heated battle?

I chose to write this post because I have spent the entirety of James' small life locked in what may be the harshest of these battles: breastfeeding vs. bottle feeding. After reading all of the pregnancy and birth books, I naturally turned to what I would do with this small human when he finally arrived. Wes and I spent very little time discussing this, because it just seemed to make sense that I would breastfeed at least until James was six months old. Why would we pay hundreds of dollars during his first year of life when I could feed him for free? Naturally? So we read the right books, we made use of the lactation consultants at the hospital and even called them after we left. 

But James wasn't gaining weight. Rather, our little guy, who was just barely over six pounds to begin with, had dropped down to only 5 by his eighth day of life. The verdict came down: we would have to supplement with formula while I pumped for awhile or he would be in grave danger of dehydration, and possibly brain damage if it went on too long. I cried while we talked to the doctor, but resolved to pump until we could go back to breastfeeding. 

That night, James, who wouldn't drink a full bottle, had gotten so lethargic that we took him to the hospital, where he stayed for the next three days. Breastfeeding almost killed my baby. He was so dehydrated that the nurses couldn't draw blood at first. Wes and I were sent to a room to wait while the staff did a spinal tap--through which we could hear James screaming through two closed doors. They gave me a pump and we discovered the problem--I had supply issues. For the next three weeks, I pumped every two to three hours, took several over the counter supplements as well as prescription medication, literally cried over drops of spilled milk and more until my midwife final told me that I was killing myself for something that would never happen. 

And for the last seven months, I have felt guilty every day. I've felt like a failure, like I'm not a good enough mom for James. The container of formula constantly reminds me that "breastfeeding is best." Other mothers breastfeed for years with no problems. Other mothers judge me for "choosing" to formula feed. Other mothers are berated for breastfeeding their children in public, while I am berated for not giving my child the best nutrition possible. Only in the last few weeks have I started to feel better, mostly because of sites like this and awesome men like this.

This is ridiculous. This has to stop. 

Only when parents stop the wars and start working together for better education and support will our children be able to be raised by a village. Only then can those who breastfeed feel comfortable breastfeeding in public--something that is natural and beautiful, a wonderful way for mother and child to bond. Only then can those who formula feed feel safe in pulling out their bottles in public, proudly showing the world that they, too, are providing the nutrition their child needs--just in a different way. Only then can fragile, hormone-ridden, emotional, post-birth women enjoy the time they have with their babies who grow up all too fast, no matter what they eat. Maybe then we can start looking around at classrooms full of children and realize that it is the care with which a parent feeds his or her child (or does any other activity with that child) that matters way more than the method. 

(Here is a great link to people who are trying to combat this issue).

The Kyle Trail: Where Nobody Dies of Cholera, and You Don't Have to Ford Any Rivers

Jess: We're starting to get settled here in Kyle, and I for one am enjoying this new journey in our life. I can't speak for Wes, but I'm pretty sure he feels the same way. Unlike our move to New Jersey, there has been more joy than sadness, although the sadness certainly exists, too. We definitely miss our friends from New Jersey, but it has been so nice to move back into our "old" circle of friends.

I think that in situations like this, it is really easy to build up a fantasy that has no bearing on reality. I'm not going to lie, as much as I was excited about coming back to Texas, I was also pretty nervous. Of course there were the normal moving jitters: what if we forget something, what if our stuff gets lost, what if something goes wrong... We also had some big concerns about going two months without either one of us earning a paycheck, and now we still have about two more before we're both working again. That's a pretty big strain on the savings account.

My biggest worry, however, was that we would come back to Texas and it wouldn't be as great as we had built it up to be. I mean, we're not back where we met and got married. It's not that we're far, but it's not like even moving right back to TLU would have solved this concern. Our friends are scattered, we all have jobs, everyone is at a very different point of their lives than when we all hung out together in college and the little bit afterward. What if this new arrangement fell short of our expectations? What if we were lonely in Texas just like we were lonely in New Jersey at first?

And yet, despite all of my concerns, things are coming together. We didn't lose anything on the way (except maybe one of James' cloth diapers, which could still turn up), all of our stuff made it safely to the house and we're nice and settled, and nothing went wrong along the way--no missed planes, no flat tires, no cats running away at the hotels. The people at Kyle UMC are wonderful, and I'm sad to think of not being with them on a weekly basis once September comes around. The larger Kyle community is great, we can walk around a lot, we've found what I think is going to be our favorite fallback restaurant, and there is PIE! 

Yes, things are different with our friends. Most of us are married now, Wes and I have a kid, everyone is older and most everyone is working a full-time job. We can't just get together randomly at 3 p.m. and do nothing. But we CAN go float the river on a day off, play games into the night, and, most importantly SEE each other on a regular basis. As our friend Ryan pointed out, we can make plans for next week. We don't have to talk about what we'll do four months from now--although that is also an option. We're here to stay. If we miss seeing someone today, we don't miss our chance for the next half year. James is going to grow up among a wonderful group of people that we love. And that's just as awesome as I always hoped. 

Wes: We are settlers, but luckily for us we do not have to travel in a covered wagon, we can carry all of the meat from our hunting ventures back with us, and we are not made of giant pixels that make it near impossible to distinguish from males and females. 

Basically, this trail is crazy better than our childhood game, Oregon Trail. 

We are settlers in a magnificent, magical place called Kyle, which truly is an interesting place. This city, which is one of the ten fastest-growing communities in Texas, seems to be really comprised of a number of small development communities that for the most part seem to be pretty self-contained. They all come together in near-lego fashion to create this town just South of Austin on the I-35 corridor. 

And we're smack in the middle of it. I couldn't be more excited. 

Jess talked a lot about what our combined worries/fears were in moving back down. I thought I'd talk a little bit about something that surprised us, and not in a good way. 

We've found that it's not as easy to be a Dad of a baby in public in Texas as it is in New Jersey.

It might sound a little weird, but it's true. In the six months of James' life spent up in the Great White Northeast--otherwise known as Southern Canada, which is weird because there are whole states in between New Jersey and Canada... Also no one calls it that but me...

Sorry. I got off track. In the six months of James' life spent up in New Jersey, there was only one public establishment that we visited that did not have a changing table in the men's room. It might have been bent, broken, or missing straps, but it was there and semi-usable. 

In Texas, though, we've already encountered a number of places where this is the case, much to our chagrin. In both restaurants and stores, there have been too many times that I have tried to take James into the bathroom to change his diaper and found out that I would have to use the floor to complete my endeavor. So, I've had to bring him back out and give him to Jessica, who is much more annoyed about this than I am because she gets stuck with diaper duty (please, please tell me you caught that pun) more often than not. 

I've been thinking a lot about the single dads out there, and how frustrating it must be for them. 

Come on, Texas. I firmly believe that you are the greatest nation-state in the world. Step up your game. 

Well, that's all for now. Sorry for the long wait. We'll get better again at writing more consistently. It is, once again, all my fault. For now, though, You Stay Classy, World Wide Web!

-jess y wes

Catchin' Up

Wes and Jess:

Sorry to those of you who are avid followers (hardy har har). We've been super busy the last month with moving, and we just didn't have time to write--even when we thought about it we had to pack instead. Anyway, we decided that the best way to get back on track was to write a quick list of some things we're going to miss about New Jersey now that we're in Texas. We did a lot of complaining about living there, but there were definitely some great things about NJ and the surrounding area:

• Diners: NJ has some of the best diners ever. Every bit of the food is awesome and there is so much you can eat it for at least two meals afterward, too. 
• The shore: Not the stupid TV show. The real Jersey shore is pretty awesome. The water is cool and refreshing all summer long, and there are many beaches from which you can look at NYC. 
• Pizza: Enough said. 
• Other states: We love Texas, don't get us wrong, but it was super cool to drive an hour and be in another state. We could visit our friends Tim and Brittany, 2-3 states away, and only be in the car for three hours. Three hours in Texas gets us to a different part of Texas.
• Bagels: Fresh-baked bagels and coffee, especially on early mornings, are freaking fantastic. We're definitely going to miss having more options than Panera.
• History: Texas has a pretty cool history, but everything in NJ has a story (or so it seems). In downtown Crosswicks, the Friends' Meeting House had a  cannonball lodged in an outer wall. Many of the houses and other buildings are really old, some as old--or older-- as this country. People's families have lived there for centuries. 
• Our first home: Both our apartment at Princeton and our parsonage in Crosswicks had their flaws, but these were our first homes together as a married couple and a family. So much happened inside those walls and it is strange to me that James will never remember what his first home was like. 
• Ocean City Youth Weekend: The big gathering of youth in the New Jersey Conference that happened at the shore each September. We had a blast there all three years, with the youth from Wes' congregations as well as from all over the state. Texas is definitely not lacking in youth events, but none are like this one!
• Jersey produce: The fresh food in NJ is really fantastic. We'll miss Ellis corn, Russo's honey and tomatoes, the random farm stands everywhere, fresh-picked apples and asparagus, and so much more. I guess we'll just have to work in the garden at our new house!
• The people: We made some pretty good friends while we were in NJ, and it's going to be rough to have to keep in contact with them long distance only. Especially...
• Robert, Lindsey, and Brian: Our best friends in NJ, who made living there bearable for the last three years. We got together every other week at least for the last few years, we had babies just a few months apart, and we just had a wonderful time with them. Out of everything we miss about New Jersey, the sadness of leaving them will definitely last the longest and hurt the most. 

Although we missed Texas, our friends, our family, and our life here while we did this stint in New Jersey, we're definitely going to miss some things from living up there. We certainly left a piece of our hearts up north when we left in a couple of weeks!

You stay classy, World Wide Web!