Farewell, Corvallis [Brenners Hit Refresh]


Dear Corvallis, You housed me on an August summer night in 2010 for the very first time, when I drove the 33 minutes from Harrisburg to you, visiting my brother who lived on Tyler Street. I had no sleeping arrangements, only my '92 Tercel and a debit card connected to a couple dollars, so I found my way to the local Fred Meyers getting lost along the way and purchased a soft blue blanket with the word "relax" etched into it everywhere. I thought, "If this blanket doesn't remind me to relax, I don't know what will." That summer was a rough one for me, but it was transitional too. I was soon to be Corvallis's, House of Charis's to be exact, next resident.

Oh Corvallis, I met two of my best friends within your limits. Actually, as my roommates. One married a man from far away and moved to Canada and the other became my sister-in-law, birthing babies who will forever hold pieces of my heart. For those two roommates birthed into best friendships, I will forever be grateful for you.

Corvallis, Corvallis, Corvallis, I walked the campus streets lined with vibrant colors and beautiful trees through the fall and then again in the spring. Oh yes, the winter too. Those were some cold nights. I will never forget the many days and nights, the strolling, the classes, the hours studying. You helped me get through full time school as well as full time night shift as a caregiver...until you didn't and I quit school. That was a good time.

Dear Corvallis, Loren and I dated long distance while I lived within your city. I wrote letter after letter and delivered them into your blue drop boxes over and over and over again. We married in one of your beautiful parks, and that day I will never forget. It is one of my favorite days.  You are where we began our family of two, and then expected a third, but then lost that precious little baby. You are where we officially began our adoption journey, and for that, I cherish you: babies and family embedded into our hearts and story.

Our apartment complex housed us for more than three years. We had best friends as neighbors across the hall and across the street. It is times like these that are so sweet, you will never forget.

Corvallis is where we built lifelong friendships with people our age, like the Listers and Hayes and Nelsons, people we imagined raising babies with and calling when we are sick. Friends we play weekly Catan with, rotate hosting Dinner Clubs, and help one another move. Friends who celebrate one another's new babies and mourn another's loss of theirs. These are friendships we will cherish forever. 

Corvallis, You housed Loren and my newlywed years. You were the grounds on which we became staff of a small church plant, the budding of a community that would change our life in so many ways, both painfully and beautifully. Your streets and buildings and coffee shops grew friendships that will last a life time. Corvallis, you were the city Loren and I spent countless hours with students and youth, young adults and married couples, elderly and sick, homeless and dying. I became a doula and a photographer, a pastor's wife and a wear-many-hats staffer. Oh Corvallis. The memories run deep.



It seems as though it is time to just say "we moved" out loud; we have had many questions asked about where we are and can we have lunch soon, and the thing is: we moved already. It was between four cities, two states, and here we are finally settling and moved.

It has been time for us to say goodbye to Corvallis for awhile now. But who ever knows how to say goodbye to precious people, students to be exact, that have weaved themselves into your very souls? Goodness, we adore those kids. I think about them nearly every day and pray they seek Jesus above all else; especially above man. Man is so fickle. Jesus is so faithful and secure. We want nothing else for them but Him. 

And here we are, almost entirely unpacked, our address officially changed and our titles completely different. Our identity has shifted more than I guessed it ever would, and yet still we are at the mere beginning of our journey. But a few things remain and that is Jesus and our togetherness. We have never been more together, it seems.

It has been quite the two months, my friends. Words will never explain the depths of feelings and emotions and experiences we have been walking through. Now comes for a time of immense heart-healing and seeking Jesus in very honest and raw ways.

It is with many emotions, but mainly hope and relief, that we say farewell to Corvallis, we hit refresh, and we say hello to new chapter. Or perhaps we are entering chapter one, and the 3.5 years in Corvallis was an intense prologue - we won't really see the whole picture until we look back from a distance, I hear. We have now been moved into a cozy duplex in the greater Portland area for just over a week. Loren has a full time job starting in a couple weeks at another residential treatment facility for kids ages 7-11; he is praying about and very much considering pursuing his masters of arts in teaching come 2016. Because he is awesome. I will be finding a job in January - most likely at a retirement village, because let's be real: I love them. Those are my people.


We discovered the cutest little coffee shop just a couple blocks from our place. It has a play area for kids, arts and crafts, and gluten free/vegan baked goods. Oh, and wifi! Boom boom boom. So naturally we woke up yesterday and walked hand in hand for a breakfast date.

What did this do to our adoption? many have asked. Not much! We simply are in the makings of a home study update and will forward those to the agencies we are working with. Also, many of you knew that we presented to a 5th birth mama on Friday...we still have not heard back! If she were to choose us, we need about $9,000 more dollars up front, so feel free to sponsor some puzzle pieces ;).

Well folks, if you have any questions, feel free to email me. We are very much thankful for this transition, for this refresh button. Jesus is real as ever to us and we are trusting Him, loving Him, and leaning into His tender healing arms of mercy.