We’ve lived in Yonkers, New York for a year. That means that each member of our family has celebrated a birthday in our “new” home. We’ve celebrated the seasons of Christmas and Pascha with our “new” seminary community. Last year, we celebrated our 12th anniversary of marriage a month late because we were busy packing up to move. This year, our anniversary was celebrated on time, a new year of marriage marked by a different pace and place.

There are signs that this home of ours isn’t “new” anymore. We’ve rearranged our furniture at least three times (although we might just chalk that up to our particular spacial neuroticism). The carpet in our small two bedroom apartment bears all the marks of being “lived-in” by a family with a two-year-old. We’ve figured out the very particular way we need to press our kitchen light switch so that it won’t flicker when we turn it on. I have identified the most efficient path from our apartment to the chapel and the grass along the route has retreated (perhaps permanently?). I can walk it without thinking. On at least two occasions, I have found myself absent-mindedly driving to Trader Joe’s on auto-pilot when I simply meant to haul trash down to the dumpsters near the seminary’s entrance.

The relationships we’ve formed are also similarly broken-in. I’ve called our next door neighbor and fellow seminarian at least twice this year with a last-minute ask to watch our kids so we can go on a date. He’s done the same with me. Many late nights have been spent with my fellow seminarians studying Greek, wrestling through theological and pastoral questions, providing emotional support, or simply cheering on the Chiefs in the Super Bowl (there are a few fellow fans).

All of this worn-in newness feels both natural and surprising. It feels like a blink and an eternity since we first unpacked boxes and started our life here. The “blink” could be from the experience of jumping so swiftly into some of the busiest and most difficult months of our lives. While I began orientation and then classes the week after we arrived, Christina continued working remotely and caring for the kids. This included homeschooling Fayna for the first time for her first grade year (so many firsts!). It was (and is) a hectic schedule that has not changed but we have adjusted to it.

The long feeling of the year could be due to all the joys, triumphs, and new discoveries that have graced our path. In addition to the full load of classes I have taken this year, I’ve been given the opportunity to serve as the seminary chapel’s sacristan— a lot of work, but a great blessing. Additionally, I just completed a summer unit of CPE (Clinical Pastoral Education) as a chaplain intern at Bellevue Hospital in Manhattan. The population that Bellevue serves is similar to the one I served as a social worker (unhoused, justice-involved, serious mental illness), so it was both very challenging and rewarding to serve a population in a setting I was familiar with but in a completely different role that involved different skills. I’ve learned so much this year– pastorally, liturgically and academically– I’m extremely grateful for this opportunity and for the grace throughout the process.

Christina was able to audit a class the spring semester called “The Sacred Art of Narrative”. The class delved into defining and analyzing sacred art, as well as crafting a personal piece of narrative that was told orally to the class. Our kids have been able to form friendships with playmates that live close enough to walk over (constantly!) to our apartment and ask to play. We get to observe the patterns of the geese, ducks, and other water animals through the seasons from our back patio. These experiences have been spiritually refreshing and also refining. We feel more direction and purpose in our life in ministry, and look forward to the next two years of joyful labor.

We are constantly grateful for the many many others that have contributed to our move here in so many ways. Family and friends that have helped us pack, unpack, get rid of things, or get new things. We could not have left Kansas City without a Herculean effort from our precious family and friends there- especially my siblings that tolerated a whole lot of craziness before we left town. Christina’s mom Kathy helped make our arrival in Yonkers so much easier by helping us unpack and care for our kids when we got here. So many dear friends and family have contributed money, bought us house goods, or checked in on us. On more than a few occasions, money would come in miraculously just as we were short of being able to cover our expenses— the hand of God through the generosity of people. Sweet friends pitched in to get Christina a much needed massage half way through the school year. Friends offered us housing on our drive to get here from Kansas City. Many have prayed for us. Each gift, prayer, or act is mystifying and overwhelming. We cannot express how grateful we are for each of these blessings, and how we could not have made it through without the help.

The last year has flown by without much of an update from us. Now that we’ve adjusted a bit, I hope to post more and share more about our life at St Vladimir’s (perhaps with a video tour of campus from Fayna). Thank you all for your continued support and prayers. If you wish to contribute to this ongoing journey we’re on, you can donate on our website under the “Support” tab or send a check to 575 Scarsdale Rd, Yonkers, NY 10707.

Glory to God for all things!