Teamwork

Good morning friends, and happy February!! I know some people in our area are pretty happy to be enjoying a proper snow day; are you doing the same? If so, enjoy!!!

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It's been close to a decade now since one of my friends had her first baby. She and her husband lived far from family, and she told me when the baby came, they wanted to do the first few weeks completely on their own. They didn't mind if family or friends came for daytime visits, but when it came to doing the whole 24 hour cycle from start to finish, they wanted to learn to do it themselves from the very start.

"We're a team," she told me. "We've always been a team. This is a new adventure for us, and we know it will be hard and we'll be tired, but we want to know that we can do it before we start inviting people to come and stay for long visits. We want to figure out our rhythm." 

It was an unusual perspective, at least compared to most of my other friends who had babies and wanted family members coming to stay on a rotation. But I appreciated the perspective, nonetheless. Though I didn't have a newborn of my own, I was a newlywed, and I was busy learning how to become a team when I'd been on my own for so long. Something about her confidence in the team they were spurred me on to make sure Ryan and I found and kept some version of the same thing.

This past summer, when Ryan and I were in the first few days of work here at WillowBridge, we spent some time talking to Gateway's director and his wife. They started their journey with Gateway many years ago - as houseparents. (We've learned that almost everyone who has ever worked here was a houseparent at some point. We hear this same story over and over!) His wife told us that they realized about six months in, they'd finally found their sweet spot as a team. She encouraged us to push through the learning curve, the hard days, and everything else, and eventually we'd find that same spot. We would have a rhythm down, and we might not even realized when it actually happened. But eventually we would see it.

I wouldn't go so far as to say we have it perfected, but I caught a unique glimpse of it yesterday, and it made my heart smile.

Yes, the predicted snow found us. It started late, but once it began, it didn't stop. We woke up to somewhere around 6-7 inches of snow blanketing the property - drifted in some areas. After church (online) and some meetings, Ryan said he was headed out to shovel. I glanced at the clock and knew he'd never get it all cleared before darkness fell, so I started suiting up to help. He told me not to worry about it, but I insisted. 

Leggings. Jeans. Sweatshirt. Coat. Hat. Extra thick muffler. Sunglasses. Gloves. Hiking boots. I may not have been fit for a photo shoot, but I was fit for warmth!  

We pushed our way out the front door, which wouldn't even open all the way because of the heavy, wet snow. It was the kind of snow perfect for sledding and snowmen. In fact, as we stepped outside, we heard the shouts of glee drifting over the building from the sledding hill down the way. And with that as our background music, we stared at the glistening snow that spanned the wide sidewalks and into the parking lot. We took deep breaths and started shoveling. 

Surprisingly without much effort, our plan started falling into place. (The shoveling took effort, of course, but the plan just showed up.) Ryan led and laid out the path, and I followed, filling it out to the edges and picking up the leftover clumps of snow. 

While we worked, we laughed, talked, told stories, and made jokes. If shoveling could be classified as fun, this was it. And every time we reached a new space, we stopped to map out the next part of the plan: push this way, throw snow that way, work from this side to that. We pointed, gave opinions, weighed options, and then fell into the rhythm of work once again. 

My FitBit buzzed to let me know I'd shoveled ten thousand steps worth of snow, and my arms ached from lifting over and over. But I stayed warm, and my hiking boots kept an impressive grip on the ground. I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in that moment than shoveling beside Ryan. In fact, one of our tenants had a visitor while we worked, and he offered to help us, but I waved him on. I didn't want to give up my place beside Ryan, working together, doing this thing we do. This teamwork. This rhythm.