Then came grace

            When I moved to the US as a young wife and mother 14 years ago. I was a bit apprehensive but I had imagined it would be no different from the first 2 times I had been here. Once when I was 14, sheltered by my parents-safe and secure. The next time when I was 24,I was at an educational institute that took care of all my needs and requirements. This time as we arrived in Indianapolis, I was in for a rude awakening. I was the caretaker. I was one of the 2 parents. I was the mother who with the father had to figure out living in another country with a baby. I hadn’t quite dwelt on that until I started living it. Gradually, it sunk in.

             It wasn’t as rosy as I had imagined. While my husband went to work at his new job in the new country, I was dealing with my son-who was 6 months old, figuring out what to feed him(Gerbers baby food), watching him sleep(in his crib), and when he was awake watching him watch kids’ shows on TV. It was a bit frightening when I thought the one of the Wiggles guys was cute!! and when I knew every truck and crane by name  in Bob the builder and when I was able to sing all Barney’s songs by heart. Sure enough, there were days that seemed to limit me to the four walls and got me to wonder if this was it. Where was my Jeremiah 29:11? Where was my dream of a career? There might have been a bit of panic, I am sure of it.

           Then came an interesting change of scenery. We went to church. The church that had a steeple which was visible from our window. Stepping beyond out comfort  zone of known people and stepping in that church of strangers was probably my saving grace. That same day, we were treated to lunch by a couple. That evening, a lady from the church showed up at my door to say hi. She noticed my empty apartment and made calls to her friends in church. In a week, our apartment was fully furnished down to a vacuum cleaner.

            I slowly started making friends in my church and joined MOPS(Mother of Preschoolers). I was alarmed to see many of the women at MOPS were Stay-at-home moms too but these ones were happy and jubilant! I was tired and in shock! I gazed in awe at them and their joy as I battled my 'newness' in motherhood and my 'newness' in this country.  I was buffeted by pangs of homesickness. I missed being familiar with everything and everyone. Then came grace in the form of 2 women, who became my buddies-who drove me places with my son, chuck-e-cheese's, the mall, chick-fil-a and had us over for play dates with their kids. One special lady, introduced me to the world of  Scrapbooking. One lady sought my help during her pregnancy to manage her daycare that she ran. And so it began.....life got better. I made more friends. We traded recipes and stories. Traded laughter and hand me downs. Slowly, my walls of loneliness began to crumble and soon enough I was involved in Bible studies, MOPS leadership, church choir, Sunday school  and my family became part of a wonderful small group at church.

            This was a far cry from the fears I had imposed on myself-that I was going to be cut off from civilization, I'd be all alone in this new country and be the sole caretaker of my son during the day. That church was indeed my saving grace. Saved me from loneliness and gloom, taught me to find joy in motherhood and unbeknownst to me, taught me to be a better wife.
             It happened again when we moved to Colorado. Another church, another MOPS, same story. A family invited us to their house that evening. And so the story goes. Deep friendships that have formed since that first day ten years ago.. Our sons are best friends and our daughters share the same birthday. We are one big family.
             Thanks to your open hearts and arms that made us comfortable. Thanks to trusting us enough to open your doors. Thanks to looking past the 'newness' in us and welcoming us, nevertheless. Thanks for being our friends. Thanks for taking that first step with us.