A flip, a flap, a flutter,

Like old-fashioned butter,

Churning, churning, 

Inside turning,

From caterpillar into butterfly.

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The plastic box containers waited for us on the counter of our Minnesota home-for-a-week with instructions for us to watch the hanging chrysali (plural for many chrysalis) and release the monarch butterflies once they hatched. Each of the four containers housed about six chrysali, and three butterflies already waited for us in one of them. Awed and amazed, we carefully reached inside the lid and let the delicate creatures climb on our fingers. Gently raising them out, we had a minute to just look at the thin, brightly colored wings with intricately drawn lines and soft curves. The dainty legs clung to our fingers as we marveled at the beauty. Then, like a tissue in the wind, the butterfly flapped its new wings for the first time as we watched it’s maiden flight into the blue sky. 

And that began our month long obsession with these beautiful, delicate creatures and their squishy caterpillar counterparts.

Though we started at the end of the cycle, watching the chrysalis turn dark then waiting for the wet-winged butterfly to dry it’s wings and be released, the kids soon found the milkweed plants crawling with caterpillars and even an egg. So we went back to the beginning, feeding the caterpillars and cleaning out the impressive amount of poop they created, then watching with delight as each one crawled up to hang upside down in a “J”. From there we would wait for the tell-tale sign that it was ready to create its chrysalis, and in three minutes the transformation would be over. Often we would miss this incredible feat because it happened so fast, but we did manage to watch a few. 

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We took our little plastic box full of caterpillars with us to my parents, then my dad caught butterfly fever, and we scavenged the area around their house for milkweed and caterpillars. We will hold so many memories together revolving around the beautiful Monarch. By the time we moved away from Minnesota, there were 11 chrysali waiting to hatch, so we took seven with us and left four for my parents. The seven chrysali made the journey to our new home on the Missouri River, where we waited in anticipation for the transformation to be complete so we could release the butterflies. Last week we released the last butterfly to make the long journey south.

It’s easy to see the analogies with butterflies and our change of plans. We were once the caterpillar, munching along and making plans, now I feel like I am in the chrysalis, in the dark, not knowing what is happening but trusting that the time is being well spent in refining and making life beautiful. I’m not sure how long it will take to hatch, or what I will look like when it’s finished, but I’m excited to stop eating leaves and learn how to fly!

Over the past couple months, Noah wrote (i.e. Paul transcribed) and illustrated an original story about a boy named Escro. When Noah created the character of Escro, he wanted to create a character who shows courage, tells the truth, and tries to make things right, even when it is hard. Writing the story was a lot of work for Noah, but it was worth it! Enjoy!

Chapter 1 – Something to Sell

There once was a boy named Escro. He was very poor and his mother and father had died when he was very young, so he was an orphan. Escro had run away from the orphan asylum and built a house in the forest on a large island. He had only enough money to buy an old, rusty shovel.

One day, Escro was digging in the forest hoping to find something to sell, like rocks or metal. He found one piece of metal and five shiny rocks that he washed in the creek. It was almost night time so he went to the city and sold them. He only got two dollars for all his work, so he went back to bed, happy that he got at least some money.

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Chapter 2 – A Treasure Chest

When Escro woke up, he said to himself, “Maybe I should go dig, get some more rocks to sell, and save enough money to buy a new shovel that’s not so rusty.” He went out digging and hit something hard. Then he tried digging it up. Finally he got it up and could see what it was. It was a treasure chest!

“Where is the key?” he wondered. Finally he saw something shiny and silver in the dirt. He picked it up. It was the key!

Escro unlocked the treasure chest and peered inside. He was amazed at how much silver and gold there was. He picked a gold coin up and said, “This coin could cost $100 if I sold it.” So he went and sold the gold coin.

The people who bought the coin thought, “That must be his last thing to sell. We should buy it for $200 so he doesn’t starve to death,” not knowing that he had dug up a treasure chest filled with gold and silver.

Chapter 3 – Pirates Digging

When Escro got back home, he put his treasure chest in his house so no one would find it. Meanwhile pirates were coming to the island to find the treasure chest. One of the pirates spotted land and yelled, “Land ho! Island ahead,” and they sailed toward the island. They docked, got out their swords, and set out into the woods to search. They said to themselves, “We’ll dig until we find the treasure. The map shows us right where it is.” Finally they found the spot and started digging. (Fortunately they didn’t see Escro’s house nearby.)

All of a sudden the pirates heard someone yelling, “Why are you digging in my yard? This isn’t your property! What are you looking for?” It was Escro.

The pirates whirled around and said, “We are looking for our treasure.”

Escro decided to tell a lie. “Someone came and dug it up. See, they gave me this goblet of gold. I’ll give it to you if you leave right now.”

“You will need to give us more treasure than that!” cried the pirates. And they stomped away with mean looks on their faces. They turned around and said, “We’re going to bomb the island,” and then continued to stomp away.

“Oh no!” Escro cried. “I must go tell them the truth quickly, or they will bomb the island.”

Chapter 4 – Walk the Plank

Escro ran to catch up to the pirates. He saw that they were almost ready to sail away on their ship. He climbed on board just in time and the ship set out to sea.

Escro hid below deck where all the beds were. He gathered his courage and went up on deck to face the pirates. They were getting ready to shoot off their canons right when he interrupted and yelled, “I have the treasure! Take this goblet of gold and I’ll give you the rest of the treasure too, except for the one piece of gold that I already sold.”

“We will spare the island,” said the pirates, “but you must walk the plank.”

“What does ‘spare the island’ mean?” asked Escro. “Does it mean you will bomb it, or does it mean that you will keep it safe?”

“We will keep it safe,” answered the pirates, “but you walk the plank.”

“Ok. I have a silly question,” replied Escro. “Can I dive off the plank?”

“Yes, you may run and dive,” said the pirates. “We hope you belly flop.”

“I love belly flopping,” said Escro. So he ran off the plank and belly flopped.

Chapter 5 – Help! Help!

As soon as Escro got in the water, he swam as far as he could, but slowly, so he had enough energy to last him the whole way. Soon he got tired, and he spotted a ship out in the distance. It was a water taxi! He desperately cried for help. “Help! Help!” he cried, until the water taxi could hear him. Then the taxi let out a huge buoy. Escro gathered all his strength and swam until he reached it. Then the taxi driver pulled him on board.

“How did you get in the water?” asked the water taxi driver.

“I got in it when I walked the plank,” Escro replied. “Thank you for saving me!”

“You’re welcome,” said the driver. “I have a sign that says ’taxi’, but I really use this boat to save people.”

“Thank you,” Escro said again. “Can you bring me back to shore?”

“Yes,” said the driver. “I’ll take you back to shore. And I hope you don’t mess with the pirates again.”

So the driver took Escro back to shore, and Escro lived happily ever after.

The golden days of summer are made of splashing in swimming pools, biking through lush wooded trails, running and laughing with friends on green fields, and basking in the warm sunshine on a beautiful blue-sky day. A triathlon is the race of summer, taking all the good parts and squishing them together as fast as possible. When Noah found out we would be “home” for the summer, he was thrilled to know that he would be able to compete in the local Youth Triathlon.

So we “trained” by making good use of the local swimming pool, developing a recognizable stroke and learning how to dive. I had told the kids that I could either pay for two weeks of swimming lessons, or I could buy a family pool pass for the summer and they would have to give me 10 minutes each of their time to practice their swimming. We bought the pass, and I basked in the pool-side sun, enjoying every minute. They both improved daily. Natalie had become comfortable with the water earlier that summer, and one day decided to put her face in and swim. I felt like I was witnessing a miracle! It confirmed what I knew in my head but sometimes had a hard time believing- kids will develop when they are ready, just give them time.

The day of the race was the quintessential summer day. We gathered with friends to cheer, the kids took their places, and the race was on! Noah didn’t dive, he didn’t use his new stroke to swim down the lane, I had kept the shoelaces too tight so that it took Paul a whole agonizing minute to help Noah get his shoes on, and he fell trying to do a fancy transition on his bike. Noah ended with a huge smile, though, and didn’t notice all of the imperfections. He was there for the joy of the race.

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Practice didn’t make perfect, but it sure was fun. Sometimes our family’s journey doesn’t feel like a race, more like a slow crawl, and it doesn’t hold all of the elements we had rehearsed, but we are enjoying it so much! We have realized all of the opportunities we have gained through this unexpected time, like being home to squish summer into an early August morning.

It all started on a rainy afternoon drive through the wildlife loop in Custer State Park. We were spending the weekend with family in the Black Hills of South Dakota and enjoying a break from daily life. As we drove through the winding roads, Paul and I continued our ever-present conversation about life: how it’s going, what our goals are, how we feel about things. We argue now about who brought it up first, but one of us began talking about the possibility of living somewhere else. “Where would we go?” “How long would we go?” “What would we do?” The questions kept coming, and by the time we exited the park, we had decided that we would go to Spain for a year.

Why Spain? We decided for our first time living outside of the United States, we wanted someplace slightly familiar, which narrowed us down to Western Europe. We also decided that if we wanted the kids to learn another language, we wanted it to be Spanish. So, Spain it is.

Why a year? I really didn’t want to just take a glorified vacation. I wanted to immerse in the culture to gain a better understanding and appreciation for the people, history and landscape around us. A few weeks were not going to do that. A year would allow us to feel every season, see every holiday, learn through a whole school year, and get over the middle hump of hating everything foreign.

But, really, why? Why did we want to go?

There are plenty of reasons why we are choosing to uproot and take our family to a foreign country for a while. The excitement of adventure in a new land, the challenge of living in a foreign country, the bonding of experiencing change together, the opportunity to learn from others. But, if I’m honest, we were looking for escape.

The few years leading up to last fall had been really hard. We had dealt with relational strains as friends had moved, we had spent three years trying for a baby, we experienced havoc as we were part of leadership at our church, family members were diagnosed with deep illness, and we were feeling overwhelmed with life. I couldn’t handle the pressure. My hair had started falling out, I wasn’t eating much, I avoided friends (even though I’m highly extroverted), and I stopped attending Sunday morning worship. It was dark, and I was so confused and heartbroken over lost relationships and lost dreams that I wanted to step away from everyone and just breathe.

Little did I know, when we concocted our plan to move to Spain, that by following the plan to keep our distance from people, we would end up doing the exact opposite. Not only did we not leave for Europe in July, but because we had already sold our home, we also ended up needing to make plans to live with people. Not just near them, but literally with them. In short order, we had set up a string of nine different homes to live in.

It’s been oh-so-hard to live with others. To have to glare at my weaknesses each day, to give up control, to try to adhere to the rhythms of each new place. But it has also been good to be in close relationship with so many of our wonderful friends and family. To remember how amazing it is to be together. We are healing, and so much of that healing is coming through daily life and conversations with the people.

So, we are not escaping anymore. Well, maybe a little, but not because I can’t breathe. Just to enjoy the fresh air.