Moving to Utah was a stretch for our little family. I was leaving the only home I had ever known. I was leaving sunny San Diego and trading it in for snowy Utah. Most importantly, I was moving away from my (and part of my husband's) family.
It was this last thing that I knew would be the most difficult. I wondered who would be there to fill in the gaps, help watch our son when we wanted a date night.
This last weekend our church family stepped up in a big way as we moved from one rental to another. They helped load all our earthly possessions into a moving van and several other vehicles. Then, at the new house, they unloaded our possessions. Several men even manhandled our behemoth of a couch through narrow doorways into our new family room. It was nice to realize that while our actual families may be miles away, we have a church family that is here for us.
Today the kindness continued. Several people from church stopped by to help us clean, unpack, and hang our pictures. One gentlemen did miscelaneous handyman work that my dear husband is sadly not proficient in getting accomplished.
While our families are miles away and we miss them very much, it is nice to know we are not alone out her in snowy Utah.*
*Thankfully the snows have not come yet. For this I am still greatly appreciative.