I've Landed in Texas

Ever since I landed in Austin on July 4th, I seem to have hit the ground running. Non-stop.

My friend Thomas met me (hey, it's not every day a soon-to-be famous author picks you up from the airport!) and over taco salad at Whole Foods (so Austin-y) he told me how the very land the building was standing on used to belong to his family, generations ago. He comes from a long, long lineage of native Texas settlers. 

(If there's one thing I've noticed about true blue Texans, it's the sort of pride that comes with being able to say their family has dwelt here virtually forever.)

Then it was off to a 4th of July party, Texas style, at Thomas' family's ranch, replete with shooting, burgers from the ranch's grass-fed cattle, and lots of big sparkly fireworks. (On the way, I had asked him what sort of family he'd describe his as. "Have you seen the Godfather?" he asked me. "We're that family." I'm sure my face was priceless, especially as we were swinging by his apartment to pick up guns and ammo. :P )

The party was the perfect immersion into my first hours in Texas, meeting lots of lovely people and exchanging phone numbers with the hopes of spending future time with all my new friends.

It was an especial treat to meet Thomas' sister, Cynthia, knowing that she had spent some time living/backpacking in New Zealand. (How wonderfully coincidental can you get, as I am landing there in a few months?) She is an absolute doll - and definitely a kindred spirit. We got to exchange travel stories and I got some helpful tips.

I crashed that night at Thomas and Cynthia's, followed by a morning of a peaceful contemplation watching birds and squirrels on their back deck and then a beautiful walk on a nearby hiking trail that Cynthia led me to. (This is what I love about Austin most - even in the heart of the city, trees and nature flourish abundantly everywhere you turn.)

After the walk, we were greeted to a yummy Paleo (aka Abigail-friendly) breakfast of grass fed beef stir-fried with all kinds of veggies, specially made thanks to Chef Thomas. Now that's what I call hospitality.

Sunday afternoon brought me to the place I will largely be calling "home" for the next few months. My friend Erin and her family, her sister and sister's family, and the grandparents all live on the property here. I was greeted by a pool full of children - after changing into my swimsuit and jumping in, the number had swelled to eleven kids, all of them showing me their tricks and asking me to watch them do their breast strokes and back strokes. It feels like a continual resort here, with the pool just a step away, and the gorgeous eight acres of land surrounding the families' homes.

I love my little room sequestered off the garage, that I have been given in exchange for a few hours' childcare each week. It's like tiny house living. In the mornings I get to enjoy my breakfasts al fresco, cooking on the patio kitchen, and I have a little creature living just outside my doorstep - an adorable, fat toad, whom I've christened "Toady" (original, I know.)

My "adopted family" (Peter and Alisa) live upstairs, and I've bonded with their four children already - six year old Haddie who is my little helper, three year old Asa who can melt my heart with his constant sunny smile, two year old Alma who wants to do everything her brother does and keeps up pretty well, and five month old Beth, who is the chunkiest baby I 've ever seen (like a mini Sumo wrestler.) Many of my weekdays (and the past couple days already) will be spent watching and playing with them for a few hours, so their mama can have a break and run errands. Precious.

Monday I met with a friend from Guatemala, who happened to be visiting Austin for a few days. As I was telling him about my adventures for the next five months, how I will be living out of a backpack both here and in New Zealand, not knowing what will come about one day from the next, he smiled and said, " God will provide for you, Abigail." He knows about God's provision, his full-time job taking him to mountain villages in Guatemala, where they reach out to street children, providing food, education, and medical care. He himself, living a similar lifestyle I now am, had so many stories of God's unexpected provision.

Since I got here, I've been continuously introduced to others as a "missionary." At first I tried to counter that, but you know what? I like that term, I really do. Too often we think of a "missionary" as someone who fulfills a specific task in a specific place under the auspices of an organization. But really, we all are called to be Salt and Light, aren't we? I have always considered myself a missionary wherever I find myself, whether travelling abroad or at home. Wherever I go, I bring Jesus - and I offer Him to all who are open.

The journey has just begun.