I’ve heard a lot of complaints about 2023 being a tough year, but for our family, we don’t really have much bad to say for it. Compared to pandemic years, it was pretty great, in fact.

We started off the year with notice that our Green Cards were on the way — after 14 years as guests, we were finally invited to be permanent residents. This adjustment of status meant easier, less stressful travels, an identity for Nic, and new professional options for me. We began flexing our new freedom almost immediately — starting with a vacation in Dominican with old friends and travel buddies from Canada, while my parents hopped across the pond to stay with the kids.

Upon our return, we dove into exploring careers. Ben got, then quit, his first job. Nic applied, and was hired for, her first job since before Ben was born. And I quit my job, to start my own consulting business. These changes had varying levels of success…

I made Ben quit, when it became clear his fast food overlords were only too happy to take advantage of his eager work ethic. Nic’s part time role frequently requires more hours of her than advertised, but occasionally makes up for it with stories of the elementary school kids she helps feed. And starting a business has provided a rich new set of lessons, challenges, highs and lows, that have provided more opportunity for growth than I could have predicted. I’m very lucky that my previous employer was eager to purchase my services (although their accounting department isn’t quite as eager to pay my invoices on time.) Its also been great to explore other connections and relationships, and pursue other opportunities.

2023 also saw milestones for the girls. Eli kicked off her summer with a broken collarbone, and subsequent surgery, Abi secured her learner’s permit on her first try, and we all had a wonderful summer where we stuck pretty close to home. Then the girls capped their vacation off by getting baptized in a beautiful outdoor service at our sweet little country church, witnessed by friends, church family, and Canadian family who were able to make the trek.

In the latter half of the year, we all had a getaway with the aforementioned travel buddies, the kids mostly succeeded at their academic endeavors, and we enjoyed Christmas in Ohio with my folks hopping over again from England, followed by more Christmas in Canada with Nic’s family. We also received the bonus gift of a new, un-asked-for (at least by me!) kitten, living in our car.

In fact, if I have a complaint about 2023, it was that maybe we’ve all gotten a little too comfortable. 8 years in the same place more than doubles our previous record, and while Ohio has its up-sides, the 60mph wind whipping snow at our house as I write this reminds me that there are other places we might want to go, and other contexts we want our kids to know.

So in 2024, we plan to go again. The details are still coming together, but plans are in place for a church missions trip to Asia, followed for our family by a little additional exploration. We weren’t sure how many would be interested, but the current team size sits around 18 people — a huge group for our little church, most of whom with little travel experience. Its shaping up to be a pretty cool adventure, and an exciting opportunity to learn more about God’s heart for the whole world.

Of course, others in that world might not share such positive feelings about 2023. A lot has gone wrong on our broken and hurting planet. And while we love this country that lets us call it our second home, we’re very concerned about what 2024’s election will bring. More than ever we need reasonable, effective leadership to navigate global events.

Because of the job I’m in, I also can’t help but reflect on technology, and how its impact is felt throughout our lives. 2023 included some culturally impactful innovations, which I wrote about — and will likely write more about in 2024! In fact, this post was delayed by some changes I had to make to the site as a result of how the Internet is evolving. This little blog has been around for 23 years; I’m grateful to those still reading it in 2024, but I’m increasingly uncomfortable with the progression of this inter-network on which it resides.

But whether online, or not, we are all connected: from Gaza to Ukraine, and Ohio to Taiwan, every one of us is made in the image of a loving God, with gifts and a purpose to explore and share with each other. I hope in 2024 we can find better ways to understand that — as a family, and as a species.

As of the end of 2022, we’ve lived in our house for 7.5 years. Never in our adult lives have we lived anywhere this long — nor did we imagine we would, or that if we did, it would be here. The winters are bitter cold, the summers too short, and the scenery relatively bland. But as we reflect on where God has placed us for this season, we realize how lucky we are.

Whether you believe the current economic client is a result of government over-spending, a whiplash effect from the world re-opening, or (more likely) some combination of factors, seems to be based on your political leanings. Whatever the cause, this is objectively a tough time to be raising three kids — first a pandemic, then sky-rocketing inflation. That we are in a comfortable home, whose value has increased; that I have a stable job that provides a steady salary; that we have been able to travel and show the kids at least a little of the world; that their needs are met, and our household repairs aren’t the catastrophic kind (so far); that we are surrounded by a community of generally good and kind people, all of whom managed to navigate the insanity of the past couple years with most of their goodwill intact; and that our community includes people of faith that prioritize loving Jesus and loving others… for all of these reasons, and more, we ended 2022 grateful for where we find ourselves: in a home base that affords us the freedom to explore from here.

At the beginning of the year, the apparent receding of Covid-19 was far from a sure thing. While we all hoped it would continue to become just another background threat we learn to live with, no one knew for sure what new mutations were coming next. So we determined to seize the opportunity to get back out there.

In March, Abi got a birthday trip to visit an old friend (also her first babysitter) in Boston. In April, I made it out to Calgary to visit my siblings, and help my brother move into their new home. And in May, I finally got to Barcelona. Being back in an airplane was weird, and maybe a little nerve-wracking at first; clearly the air travel industry is worse for its pandemic experience. But it felt great to be back out there — and the smaller trips gave way to experiences we’d been dreaming about since before the pandemic.

Of course, our trip to Europe was the highlight of the year. The kids did so amazing, adjusting to jet lag, trying new foods, and experiencing new things. I had the privilege of international travel as a youngster, and I don’t remember being half as resilient or adventurous as our kids are. And seeing things through their eyes was like being a kid again. Of course it helped to have grandparents as tour guides that spoiled them with ice cream and theater tickets for half the journey!

But travels closer to home were special too. Family Camp with our friends — whose little ones aren’t as little as when we first started — remains a wonderful tradition. And a summer trip to Canada was much easier as restrictions lifted. With each visit home I’m increasingly grateful for the safe and stable place we grew up in — one which allowed me to survive my childhood and adolescence, and gave Nicole and I our first home base to launch from. The little piece of country paradise that is Nana and Papa’s house represents pure happiness and love for our kids.

We also got the privilege of entertaining in our neck of the woods, with Canadian family finally able to travel across the border easily. And in the fall, we got to skip school and re-connect with dear friends from Seattle as they were in the process of moving cross-country.

The close of this year also moves us inexorably closer to the time when our kids launch themselves out into the world. Their independence grows daily.

Ben started driving this year, and took to it like a fish in the water (driving Papa’s go-karts may have helped — or may have made it worse!) He has a few steps to go before the State lets him drive on his own, but he’s got his sights set on a job, and is already making plans for the computer he wants to build once he starts bringing in a pay check.

It’ll be a bit longer before Abi is taking off in the car, but as long as she can find a ride, she’s up for almost anything. Her social circle was very active in planning get-togethers over the holidays, and her academic diligence gives her freedom to explore multiple extra-curricular activities — mostly of the athletic variety.

And Eli was delighted to welcome a new friend into the neighborhood, and the girls on the street are often off on adventures in almost any weather, appearing randomly in our house for snacks, before flitting off again. Eli’s also in multiple extra-curriculars, although her interests lean more towards the arts. Holiday concert season had us in the school gym more times than I could count.

So the kids are earning new freedoms — and giving their parent’s new ones! In fact, I think if there was a theme for 2022, it was freedom. Freedom to explore the world and be in it again, but also the relative freedom of contentment. Knowing that we are safely held in our Father’s arms, placed where He intended us to be right now, so we can share generously with those He loves, and those He has given us to love.

Its hard to remember the optimism with which we greeted 2021. Sure, Trumpian insanity was yet to peak, but the vaccine was here, people were getting it, and it really looked like we were about to turn the corner on this whole Covid-19 thing. The close of 2021, and the shadow of Delta and Omicron, proved that the glass wasn’t as close to half full as we hoped, but that doesn’t mean it was a bad year. For awhile there, things almost felt… normal.

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Spring and summer saw us cautiously stretching our legs beyond the confines of quarantine, and evidenced the inexorable impact of adolescence on our teenagers — with all the tumult and change that comes with it.

You can call them the “blunder years” if you’d like, but they’ve handled it well so far. Pushing themselves to try new things, and showing leadership in their peer group. Abi signed up for lacrosse this year; they all talked me into (temporarily) fostering a dog; and both Ben and Abi were among the first kids in our area to get their vaccine shots — a choice we left entirely up to them. Eli wasn’t left out either, hitting double digits, and qualifying for her shots later in the year.

As summer called, and case counts plummeted, we enjoyed the return to some of our normal patterns. We welcomed our first visitor since the pandemic hit, had a blast at Family Camp, and made the challenging-but-worthwhile trip across the border, which allowed us multiple wonderful reunions. Ben hit another milestone, this time in his spiritual growth, as he obeyed Jesus into the waters of baptism.

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Our very “scenic route” trip home allowed us even more visits and experiences as we trecked across the eastern seaboard of Canada and the US, before returning home to face some challenges. Nicole and I learned how to remove and hang a door. Abi started her multi-year experience with orthodontic work. And Ben worked his first job — manning a booth at a video game conference (not a bad way to start his professional life!)

Still the impact of 2020 created more constraint than we would have liked, so in 2021 we made it a point to fulfill some delayed promises, and the older two each got a special adventure — albeit somewhat late. Things were still fairly normal as fall hit, and we got to enjoy some of the beauty around home, but once again, the colder weather brought rising cases and new restrictions. It seems like something of a miracle that we managed to make it home for Christmas again this year.

Just look at how much the kids have grown in the past 12 months. Physically, its quite obvious in our teenagers (Ben’s voice dropped an octave!) but we’re most proud of who all of them are becoming. Their temperaments are obviously unique (and sometimes get on each other’s nerves!) but most of the time, they genuinely try to put others first, embrace the world and all its challenges with courage and a sense of adventure, and have weathered the pandemic like troopers — accepting limitations when prudent, and enthusiastically saddling up for new experiences whenever we get the opportunity.

At this point, it would seem entirely pointless and foolish to try to predict how 2022 will go. But as much as we can, we hope to enjoy our kids’ energy and excitement to explore new things and new places. We are so grateful to God for giving us each of them, and for blessing us with another year of adventures with them. I’ll let Eli close this year, by telling you about one of hers…

I write these annual re-cap posts every year, but never before has the gap between expectations for a year, and the reality I have to write about been so drastic. This past year, we’d planned a big trip west for the summer, visiting friends in Seattle, taking a ferry trip to Alaska, and stopping by to visit family and an old friend on the way back. None of that happened for reasons that are both obvious and less than. Forming a plan to get some portion of our family just across the nearest border proved to be enough of a challenge, once the pandemic hit.

The year started fairly normally, with a couple nice highlights. Since Christmas 2019 was spent in Grand Cayman, we connected with Ontario family at Niagara Falls in February. We hosted our church youth group for the Super Bowl. And I started a trip to LA for a work event. When we looked back at the pictures of these gatherings, Eli remarked: “its strange to see us with other people and no one is wearing masks.”

It was on that trip to LA that we learned how much things would change. Of course there were inklings of it — I remember seeing people in masks at the airport, thinking they were over-reacting. It was on a stop-over in Minneapolis that I got the call: event canceled due to pandemic. I had no choice but to complete the trip to LA and try to schedule an earlier flight back — home and into quarantine. Like for most others, March through May were tough months: cancelled birthday parties, suddenly home schooling, trying to help the kids understand what was happening. As summer crept closer, and cases started dropping, we witnessed an even more upsetting change in our American life. Trump signs and flags appeared, while mostly white folks began complaining about their rights — apparently oblivious to the fact that a significant portion of America with an actual legitimate complaint was pleading for justice. The battles lines for the looming election were drawn: haircuts and backyard parties are part of the American dream, due process for minorities, and scientific decision-making are not.

Never before have we been so ashamed of where we live, or some of the people we considered close. We were horrified — shocked and in disbelief. We wanted to be a part of reasoned discussion, we wanted to insist on rationality. We went to a protest (before most of them turned unreasonable) and I blogged desperately and at length, trying to explain, trying to reason, admonishing the increasingly insane things that our neighbors, and even family members were saying online. But Trump kept on tweeting, and people kept on trying to explain, defend or even advocate conspiracy theories, unhinged medical recommendations, and a bizarre persecution complex emanating from the most undeserving, self-entitled Republican leader — and base — that I have ever witnessed. If COVID-19 wasn’t reason enough to withdraw, American politics sealed that deal. Our circle of people we wanted to be with in 2020 shrank dramatically.

Fortunately, some wonderful people and wonderful experiences were left:

We tapped our neighbor’s maple trees, and made maple syrup (and were reminded that there are still some reasonable and loving Conservatives left in this two-party nightmare.)

We learned how to throw a Zoom birthday party, met new people virtually, and connected with some far-away friends we wouldn’t have seen otherwise.

Our annual Family Camp tradition was cancelled, so in its stead, we took over an entire campground with two other families, and enjoyed a socially isolated weekend fishing, boating and singing songs about Jesus around the outdoor cookout spot.

Instead of long-distance trips, we raised chickens at home, worked on some fun projects, and explored some of God’s beautiful creation right here in Ohio — and did manage to get most of the family back to Ontario for quarantine and a visit eventually.

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We even got to be a special part of a beautiful wedding, capping off a year that maybe wasn’t great, but definitely had some redeeming moments.

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And I guess that’s a fairly good description of humanity right now. It is obvious to anyone who survived 2020 that we are a fallen people — we are not who God meant for us to be, and we cannot redeem ourselves; not through politics, not through discourse, and not through societal changes. We will always fall short. But every once in awhile, you catch a glimpse of something pretty great, and its a reminder that we were made in His image: a glorious, creative, thoughtful and beautiful image. And that some day, we will be what He intended…

• Did you know we’ve landed on a moving asteroid — twice?! Japan’s 2019 lander came home with samples in 2020, and this year, NASA’s own probe buzzed the asteroid and scooped up rocks to bring back home to us. That’s freaking Star Trek stuff right there.
• After decades of puzzling over how to leverage mRNA, at least three different teams of scientists shattered all previous records for vaccine development, and put mRNA to use in novel Covid-19 vaccines — in less than 8 months.
• As a result of the lock downs, our environment — and our understanding of it — flourished in ways not seen during my lifetime. We learned new things about whales, and birds and oceans that we just couldn’t have when we didn’t know how to slow down. In fact, a lot of great questions were raised about how we travel and work and interact online and treat each other in the real world — all things we might not have gotten around to if it weren’t for the “Great Pause.”

No, 2020 wasn’t a great year — not anywhere on the planet, and especially not in America. But, we’re still all God’s kids, and we’re still growing up. We’re not ever going to get it right until He comes back, but that doesn’t mean we’ve quit trying. Only He knows what 2021 holds, but we got through 2020, and with His help, maybe we can all do a little better this year.