A Once-Reluctant Hoosier

My husband often jokes that when we moved to Indiana 23 years ago, there were two heel marks behind us all the way from Wisconsin. They were mine. I was not eager to leave my home state. I mean…the Packers, cheese, brats, rolling green hills, people who when you say “hey,” say things like “hay is cheaper, grass is free, marry a farmer you get all three.” It was a great place to grow up. Things had been good in Wisconsin when we left. Our church was thriving, I was about to start teaching women’s Bible study, and we had a great bunch of friends. But God was calling us to Indiana, so we went—me a bit reluctantly. OK, a lot reluctantly.

I could never have imagined that 23 years later I would miss Northwest Indiana.

When we first moved there, the town we moved to was pretty dumpy. And the house we moved into was dark (wooded on three sides with dark wood paneling on the inside). There were even mushrooms growing in the shower (for real!). I didn’t know how I could manage to live there. I slipped pretty quickly into depression.

But eventually, the town turned itself around. New businesses sprang up. The dumpiness gave way to beauty. After a few years, we moved into a house that was sunny. I got into gardening and jewelry-making and scrapbooking and won ribbons at the county fair. I made friends. We found a growing church. We made it home.

A couple of weeks ago, we moved to Georgia to the greater Atlanta area—away from all of our family and most of our friends. And it’s been hard. Much harder than I had expected. I knew it would be tough to leave just about everyone we loved. But back in November, I made the decision to leave my job of 18 years at our church and work from home as a writer/editor. And that was fine when I was in a place where I could text a friend and say, “let’s do coffee” if I got stir-crazy. When you move to a place where you don’t know anyone, you just have coffee alone.

I was not dragging my heels this time around. I was determined that this time I would not be depressed and I would try to meet people and plug in and take on this adventure that God has us on (my husband’s job was transferred here). But we are living in temporary housing while we look for a place to live and it’s tough to figure out how to meet people. In all honesty, I’m just lonely.

I miss my Indiana people—all different kinds of people. Broken people in recovery. Storytellers who keep you in stitches with all their amazing stories. Servants who care for others with joy and zeal. Pastors who taught me God’s Word and trash talked with me over March Madness. Fun people who know how to do a proper game night. Coffee people who know how to make a proper mocha. (If you’re ever in Valparaiso, Indiana, stop at Uptown Café and get a mocha. Tell them Cherry sent you). Writers who graciously allowed me the privilege of editing their work. Women who allowed me the privilege of teaching them God’s Word. Counselors who pushed me to get to the root of the issue. Struggling friends I pushed to get to the root of the issue. Gardening people. People who asked for my advice about gardening. People I met only once or twice that I really connected with. Hairdressers. Movie buddies. Neighbors. Coworkers. Encouragers. Small group members. Many people who love Jesus.

Every one of them is precious to me. I met every one of them for a reason. I can only hope that I played some small, hopefully positive, role in their lives. I know they have played a role in this little play of mine. I don’t know how many acts are left in this play, but I know that Act 2 turned out far better than I could have imagined. I will forever be grateful for my Indiana peeps.

Those heel marks weren’t really necessary.

Do you remember what it’s like to move to a new community? What advice do you have for meeting new people?