Guys, I really couldn't make this stuff up if I wanted to.
If there is one thing that I have learned (and relearned, and relearned..) over the past several years, it is that any sort of "security" that is found in any. single. thing. other than my unchanging God - will ultimately fail.
Here is our most recent story of failure.
Because when you step back and look from a far, that is what life really is - isn't it?
A cycle of failure in this fleeting world, which is then gracefully redeemed and turned around by our eternal God.
Something breaks, He fixes it.
Sometimes He sees fit to use me in His fixing process, sometimes His mercy allows the fix to come in spite of me.
But He never fails to fix. To redeem. To restore.
It's who He is.
So in this moment I will share with you a glimpse of a broken place in our life,
with full confidence that it will not remain that way for long.
So, we own a house.
You know, that one that we purchased in Colorado this past January?
(If you haven't read the previous chapters of this ridiculous, beautiful, terrible, incredible journey God has us on - I'll refresh you in brief.)
We bought it, 10am. Two hours later we are informed that we are being sent to VA.
Commence this routine that has become all too familiar in my life;
1) total flesh-driven reaction of fear and panic ,
2) doubt and shock towards God as He patiently loves my forgetful and sinful heart,
3) humble approach back to Him met with grace and mercy,
4) absolute assurance from Him that all is in His sovereign and perfect control,
and
5) the journey moves forward and we witness His goodness and providence and purpose in mind blowing ways
Once this cycle had been worked through in full, we found ourselves in Virginia with complete confidence that He has us here for total purpose, and it is so good.
Guys, let me just pause here to say - the enemy of my soul and yours cannot stand for us to be in that place of purpose and goodness. He does not want to see the unfolding of step five in that cycle. He would very much like for us to be forever stuck in step one and two. Better yet for him if we stay there and then spread the effects of one and two into other peoples lives.
He absolutely intends for his blows to be debilitating, and for them to stop us from ever clinging to our faithful God.
But let me also share with you, sweet friends, that there is absolutely no situation or weapon or emotion or fear or experience that is ever beyond hope of being turned around by our God into something that only solidifies His love for us and our awe of Him.
Whatever thing in your life is being thrown at you in an attempt for evil;
I promise you - more importantly our God promises you - He WILL turn it for good.
Resuming story now,
So this house - we decided to rent it out.
We hired a someone to manage it who had been recommended to us.
She was cheaper than some we had talked to and had found us a higher rental amount than others we spoke to.
She had it rented quickly and easily to someone she claimed to be the dream tenant.
What could go wrong...?
Well, blog people, lots. Lots could and did go wrong.
I do not have all night long to type, and you do not have all the time to read - so for those purposes I will keep it short(er).
It turned into a nightmare.
Things started going very wrong.
We didn't know who was actually living in the house.
It turned out, there was a lot that we didn't know.
Weird things started building up, situations began to not feel right.
And then we didn't receive our October rent.
Next thing we know, we are wrapped up in a weekend full of further chaos as we are informed us that
the tenant is gone, the house has been cleared out, and...oh by the way there are threats of lawsuits against us....against US.
Because apparently they thought the neighbors were mean to them.
At that point our minds were sufficiently blown.
Our wallets drained from paying the unexpected cost of this now vacant property,
and our minds and hearts full of fear.
As the situation progressed and more pieces came to light, they dropped the ridiculous lawsuit talk and we decided to sell the home - as renting no longer sounded appealing but actually, literally made us sick to our stomachs.
At this point Brandon uttered the words that none of us should ever speak aloud
"I honestly don't think anything could surprise me with this situation any more"
My poor, strong, tired, incredible husband.
While fighting to get the keys into the possession of our realtor - we were enlightened by the neighbors to call the police because we may not know all the story.
Again - shortening the story, here is what we found;
Our home had been lived in by many people, who had never been disclosed to us.
It had been raided by the police last month and never reported to us.
Door broken down, the whole deal.
There had been a marijuana grow operation being run from the home which was selling the stuff across state lines and an arrest had been made in connection.
Due to these facts, once we finally got the keys into hands of people we trust - the news was not great.
There had been structural, electrical, water, and ventilation changes made to the home to support this insane activity.
Not to mention roughed up, urine smelling carpet from the multitude of dogs they all shared.
How was this even happening?
How and when did we go from, we just bought a house...to wait, no, we are moving cross country and renting it for a bit... to wait, no, our renter disappeared....to....drug busts and repairs and drained bank accounts??
Insurance doesn't pay for this.
"Property manager" won't pay for it.
Long gone tenant won't pay for it.
Guess who pays for it?...
Never in our lives have we felt so financially crushed.
Never have we been so financially humbled, or reminded of the frailty of possessions,
Never have we realized just how unsecured the popular version of security truly is.
In this exact moment, I truly do not know what this will all end up costing when all is said and done.
I have no clue how long this process will drag on, or when the house will be totally remedied, much less in condition to be sold, and then actually bought and closed on....etc.
But for the very first time, today, I realized and remembered that it isn't the biggest concern in this all.
Thank you, Jesus, for allowing me back to steps three, four, and five.
There was a moment a few days ago when I just collapsed in exhaustion next to Brandon, as we laid down on the bed and stared at each other as if this was all just a really, really bad dream. We just sat there for a moment until I could find some words.
"I just feel, like it has been a while since we have experienced a victory."
I cried to him.
"I just need you to remind me of victories. I need one right now."
I wish that I could describe the strength and compassion in his eyes when he sees me breaking.
It's as though everything inside of him simultaneously breaks for me and with me - while also becoming the strongest version of himself, ready to totally conquer the world in attempt to heal my heart.
He looks at me, I believe, with just the very smallest glimpse of how our God looks at us while we are breaking.
Totally consumed with our aching, yet ready to move mountains for our cure.
He began listing victories -
1) We have a God who loves us.
He is in ultimate control of all of this and none of it surprises Him.
He will work in this and we will be okay.
2) We are a team.
We love each other in an incredible and rare way.
We are not alone in this, we have each others backs and everything we experience is through the vessel of an imperfect but beautifully wonderful marriage.
3) We have a church family that is mind blowing.
This isn't your typical church. We were allowed to be a part of this so quickly after getting here, and the people and the movement God is doing are beyond description.
We aren't alone because we have a strong family that God has brought us to here
.....
He went on for a while until I was somehow smiling and crying and laughing and aching and rejoicing all at the same time.
Emotion is a weird thing.
But guys - so much bigger than emotion, so much bigger than fear;
is our God.
He is in this.
If we lost everything we had, but still had Him, we would still be living in abundance.
That is truth.
That is powerful.
I'm still mid-journey on this one. I don't know the ending or have the answers other than this;
Our situation is known and handled and truly secured by the God who formed this world and knows my heart intimately.
He will be glorified through this.
We will see his goodness.
I don't know what y'all are facing today, but I hope that soaks right into your heart as truth in your story as well.
He knows.
He cares.
He is working.
You are not forgotten.
You are not alone,
You will see victory through Him.
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Moving Day & Our Trailer in a Ditch
There's something about new seasons. Something about a fresh start and the gift of yet another chapter in this life that inspires optimism in me. My soul is filled with such joy at the thought of opportunity and the thought of beginning to build, once again, as we begin to follow, once again.
Optimism, however, can be misleading - encouraging us to focus on our own merits.
In the same breath that draws in a sense of hope and expectation, I am often also prone to breath in an air of fear and of anxiety about the very same change. The idea of leaving comfort and familiarity for foreign territory is frightening, and as I walk through the transition, my soul is frequently fighting off a pessimistic spirit telling me that the best is in the past.
Pessimism, however, is deceiving - encouraging us to focus on this worlds failures.
Such inconsistent beings, we are. So half-hearted and prone to confliction in our flesh.
Thank goodness my Savior is unwavering.
Our move over the weekend could have gone flawlessly. We could have pulled up to the new house and uneventfully settled right in. It could have been a quiet occasion that we wouldn't remember years down the road. It could have been easy.
Thank goodness my Savior loves me too much for "easy".
On Friday, we arrived at the new house in Virginia. The original plan had been to casually receive our shipment of possessions that had been on a semi-truck in transit for the past 10 days. We would meet up with an old, amazing friend who lived about an hour and a half away, he would help us quickly unload said trailer, and then we would probably spend the rest of the time with him sipping sweet tea on the front porch and catching up on life. You know, typical moving day stuff...right?
Friday morning, Brandon ended up having to go in to work. I arrived at the house and assured him that I could receive our shipment on my own and we could meet with our friend and the help that he had secured for us once Brandon returned from work.
About ten minutes after Brandon left, the truck driver arrived. In his semi- truck. On our rural Virginia back roads. In front of our new ridiculously steep grade driveway.
As Semi Guy pulled in front of the home, he slowed to a stop and looked at me as if I must have been playing a practical joke on him.
"There's no way I am getting this truck up that driveway, ma'am"
We began to run through options.
The street was too narrow for him to make the necessary turn in his giant semi into our driveway, forward or backwards.
But he tried, repeatedly, for almost an hour.
Then he tried to drive up the side yard through the grass that was slightly less steep.
Still not working.
"Sorry, ma'am, really, but this isn't going to work. The trailer will need to go back to its warehouse." (an hour-ish away) You can pick up your things there and transfer them into a uhaul and drive them back here to the house and unload like that.
Okay.
Not ideal.
Not how I wanted the day to go, or how I wanted our friend and his recruited help to have to spend their days.
"Gotchya. Are you sure there is nothing else you can think of to do, Semi Guy?"
"Well, maybe if I pull off the road enough that cars can still get by....."
At this point, standing in the road in my pajamas, no make up, frizzy humidity stricken hair, it begins to rain.
"This will work, hopefully, its got to."
Semi Guy pulls off the road. He gets out of his truck and props up the slightly leaning trailer on a log near by. He looks at me, gets back in his truck, and disconnects the truck head from the trailer.
More leaning.
"Not going to work" we agree.
Semi Guy gets back in the truck, and begins to back up to reattach the truck head.
In that moment, as the truck approached the trailer, as I stood like a messy little girl in the rain, I watched as the trailer with all of our belongings began to slip...off the stable ground, and into a shallow ditch at the side of the road, landing diagonally against a neighboring bank - which thankfully kept it from taking out the nearby power line.
Semi Guy got out of the truck franticly. He said a lot of words. A lot of them were unpleasant.
He began to explain how he could lose his job in connection with this accident.
I stood frozen and wondered if this was some sort of anxiety induced bad dream preceding the actual moving day.
Cue lots of phone calls from Semi Guy while he figures out what to do next.
No way to get a hold of Brandon, by myself in a place I had spent only hours in, standing outside in the rain with Semi Guy, feeling like I had cost him his job, it is safe to say that this was one of the lonelier feeling moments in my life.
I called hour-and-a-half-away-incredible-old-friend.
"HEYYYYY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" as he picks up the phone.
I proceed to explain the situation to him, keeping some fragment of composure as I tell him not to leave his house yet because the situation is...somewhat indefinite.
Without any hesitation, he informs me of a gal he knows nearby who could be there in a heart beat to keep me company.
I declined, feeling like my current self was no where near first impression ready.
Again without hesitation, he informs me that he is on his way. Leaving that moment.
I cried.
Hour-and-a-half-away-friend would leave his house and be there in one hour.
I hung up with him, called my mother-in-law, and cried more.
"I don't understand, why does everything have to be complicated?? Why can nothing be simple, nothing can be easy?? I don't get it"
She didn't either. She listened, and comforted, and allowed me to vent for a time - and then, when the time was right, stepped into full on mothering mode as she proceeded with advice and truth.
"Well first of all, call back and say that you have changed your mind, and that you want to meet that new friend regardless of your current messiness. You need a friend right now, that is more important. And second, allow yourself time to be upset about this and be frustrated and cry, and then allow yourself to stop. Brandon isn't home, you have to handle this. You have to figure this out."
Gulp.
As I got off the phone with her and spoke to God about why He was allowing the move to be so... eventful, I felt the battle in my soul between peace and chaos. His peace was flooding though. It was louder and stronger and more powerful.
I pulled myself together and text Hour-and-a-half-away-friend.
"I changed my mind, I could use a friend. See if she can come now"
Within minutes, I was walking out my front door to find New Friend standing in the rain under her umbrella, talking to Semi Guy and getting the full scoop. She introduced herself and her son and immediately began throwing out ideas and suggestions, making phone calls and texting people for favors. Suddenly, I wasn't so alone after all.
She helped arrange for the trailer to be parked on a property owned by someone she knew, just a couple miles from our house, rather than back at the station an hour away.
Brandon got home and hugged me tight.
Incredible Friend arrived much sooner than a map would tell you he should have been able to.
New Friend stood by my side and kept me company through out it all.
We picked up a uhaul, met the Legacy Church Pastor at the trailer, and the 5 of us began the process of moving things from the trailer to the uhaul.
The rest of the day that followed was like any other moving day, except better.
New Friend introduced me to the best fried chicken I have ever eaten in my life - sold in the scariest looking building I have ever bought food from. She comforted me, and processed with me, and jumped into finding a solution. She took me in my messy state, and said I still had value. She demonstrated the totally beautiful grace of God to a complete stranger.
Hour-and-a-half-away-incredible-old-friend has known Brandon and I since middle school, and He is the kind of guy you want around pretty much anytime, but especially in chaos.
God put some sort of light in him that just make everything brighter. He is gifted with something about him that just makes you remember that God is love. That is a really cool gift to have.
Brandon was the husband that he always continues to be in the highs and the lows. He was fighting the chaos but focused on God's providence. He was processing the newness, but looking out for my heart. He was constant in his affection and unrelenting in his understanding.
Legacy Church Pastor was epitomizing a servants heart, as he did a lot of the heavier lifting and the higher up reaches and the back and forth trips - without having ever met us before in his life. He simply heard of a need, and showed up to meet it.
Beyond all of that though, at the end of the day, as I spoke to God about how drastically different things had gone from how I pictured and wanted - He revealed more of Himself to me, and that alone would have been worth any struggle.
He reminded me of some sweetly simple truths through that rainy crazy Friday.
That even in the moments when I feel alone, He is there.
Even in the times when things seem messy, He is moving.
Even in the seasons I am lacking, He is providing.
When I call to Him, He answers.
When earthly possessions fall, He doesn't.
When I feel weak, He is strong.
When I need love, He is love, and He is manifesting that for us no matter where we are.
Even in the times when events aren't easy, they have purpose.
Because things weren't easy, they were foundational.
In order for something to be a surface that can be built on, it must be forged rock-solid.
So the move could have been painless, but instead it was purifying.
It allowed for Brandon and I to figure out from day 1 in Virginia that regardless of where life is being done, God is near and providing and walking it with us, strengthening us in Him.
It allowed a chance to meet New Friend in a vulnerable and real way, connecting quickly over the events taking place.
It provided a chance to trust. A chance to remember that our security isn't in our possessions, or our location, or our family, or even each other - but ultimately and exclusively in God alone.
What a beautiful way to begin a journey. I wouldn't have it any other way.
If I could choose now, I wouldn't choose the easy way.
I feel Him working here, and I am expectant over the future He is forging through the trial and the triumph.
In every breath I take, whether the air around me be infused with optimism, pessimism, or an uncomfortable mix of the two, I want my lungs to be ultimately filled with the only thing that sustains.
Faith.
Optimism can mislead. Pessimism does deceive.
Faith, however, frees - encouraging us to focus on the only one who holds this crazy world in His hands.
"Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert."
Isaiah 43:19
Optimism, however, can be misleading - encouraging us to focus on our own merits.
In the same breath that draws in a sense of hope and expectation, I am often also prone to breath in an air of fear and of anxiety about the very same change. The idea of leaving comfort and familiarity for foreign territory is frightening, and as I walk through the transition, my soul is frequently fighting off a pessimistic spirit telling me that the best is in the past.
Pessimism, however, is deceiving - encouraging us to focus on this worlds failures.
Such inconsistent beings, we are. So half-hearted and prone to confliction in our flesh.
Thank goodness my Savior is unwavering.
Our move over the weekend could have gone flawlessly. We could have pulled up to the new house and uneventfully settled right in. It could have been a quiet occasion that we wouldn't remember years down the road. It could have been easy.
Thank goodness my Savior loves me too much for "easy".
On Friday, we arrived at the new house in Virginia. The original plan had been to casually receive our shipment of possessions that had been on a semi-truck in transit for the past 10 days. We would meet up with an old, amazing friend who lived about an hour and a half away, he would help us quickly unload said trailer, and then we would probably spend the rest of the time with him sipping sweet tea on the front porch and catching up on life. You know, typical moving day stuff...right?
Friday morning, Brandon ended up having to go in to work. I arrived at the house and assured him that I could receive our shipment on my own and we could meet with our friend and the help that he had secured for us once Brandon returned from work.
About ten minutes after Brandon left, the truck driver arrived. In his semi- truck. On our rural Virginia back roads. In front of our new ridiculously steep grade driveway.
As Semi Guy pulled in front of the home, he slowed to a stop and looked at me as if I must have been playing a practical joke on him.
"There's no way I am getting this truck up that driveway, ma'am"
We began to run through options.
The street was too narrow for him to make the necessary turn in his giant semi into our driveway, forward or backwards.
But he tried, repeatedly, for almost an hour.
Then he tried to drive up the side yard through the grass that was slightly less steep.
Still not working.
"Sorry, ma'am, really, but this isn't going to work. The trailer will need to go back to its warehouse." (an hour-ish away) You can pick up your things there and transfer them into a uhaul and drive them back here to the house and unload like that.
Okay.
Not ideal.
Not how I wanted the day to go, or how I wanted our friend and his recruited help to have to spend their days.
"Gotchya. Are you sure there is nothing else you can think of to do, Semi Guy?"
"Well, maybe if I pull off the road enough that cars can still get by....."
At this point, standing in the road in my pajamas, no make up, frizzy humidity stricken hair, it begins to rain.
"This will work, hopefully, its got to."
Semi Guy pulls off the road. He gets out of his truck and props up the slightly leaning trailer on a log near by. He looks at me, gets back in his truck, and disconnects the truck head from the trailer.
More leaning.
"Not going to work" we agree.
Semi Guy gets back in the truck, and begins to back up to reattach the truck head.
In that moment, as the truck approached the trailer, as I stood like a messy little girl in the rain, I watched as the trailer with all of our belongings began to slip...off the stable ground, and into a shallow ditch at the side of the road, landing diagonally against a neighboring bank - which thankfully kept it from taking out the nearby power line.
Semi Guy got out of the truck franticly. He said a lot of words. A lot of them were unpleasant.
He began to explain how he could lose his job in connection with this accident.
I stood frozen and wondered if this was some sort of anxiety induced bad dream preceding the actual moving day.
Cue lots of phone calls from Semi Guy while he figures out what to do next.
No way to get a hold of Brandon, by myself in a place I had spent only hours in, standing outside in the rain with Semi Guy, feeling like I had cost him his job, it is safe to say that this was one of the lonelier feeling moments in my life.
I called hour-and-a-half-away-incredible-old-friend.
"HEYYYYY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" as he picks up the phone.
I proceed to explain the situation to him, keeping some fragment of composure as I tell him not to leave his house yet because the situation is...somewhat indefinite.
Without any hesitation, he informs me of a gal he knows nearby who could be there in a heart beat to keep me company.
I declined, feeling like my current self was no where near first impression ready.
Again without hesitation, he informs me that he is on his way. Leaving that moment.
I cried.
Hour-and-a-half-away-friend would leave his house and be there in one hour.
I hung up with him, called my mother-in-law, and cried more.
"I don't understand, why does everything have to be complicated?? Why can nothing be simple, nothing can be easy?? I don't get it"
She didn't either. She listened, and comforted, and allowed me to vent for a time - and then, when the time was right, stepped into full on mothering mode as she proceeded with advice and truth.
"Well first of all, call back and say that you have changed your mind, and that you want to meet that new friend regardless of your current messiness. You need a friend right now, that is more important. And second, allow yourself time to be upset about this and be frustrated and cry, and then allow yourself to stop. Brandon isn't home, you have to handle this. You have to figure this out."
Gulp.
As I got off the phone with her and spoke to God about why He was allowing the move to be so... eventful, I felt the battle in my soul between peace and chaos. His peace was flooding though. It was louder and stronger and more powerful.
I pulled myself together and text Hour-and-a-half-away-friend.
"I changed my mind, I could use a friend. See if she can come now"
Within minutes, I was walking out my front door to find New Friend standing in the rain under her umbrella, talking to Semi Guy and getting the full scoop. She introduced herself and her son and immediately began throwing out ideas and suggestions, making phone calls and texting people for favors. Suddenly, I wasn't so alone after all.
She helped arrange for the trailer to be parked on a property owned by someone she knew, just a couple miles from our house, rather than back at the station an hour away.
Brandon got home and hugged me tight.
Incredible Friend arrived much sooner than a map would tell you he should have been able to.
New Friend stood by my side and kept me company through out it all.
We picked up a uhaul, met the Legacy Church Pastor at the trailer, and the 5 of us began the process of moving things from the trailer to the uhaul.
The rest of the day that followed was like any other moving day, except better.
New Friend introduced me to the best fried chicken I have ever eaten in my life - sold in the scariest looking building I have ever bought food from. She comforted me, and processed with me, and jumped into finding a solution. She took me in my messy state, and said I still had value. She demonstrated the totally beautiful grace of God to a complete stranger.
Hour-and-a-half-away-incredible-old-friend has known Brandon and I since middle school, and He is the kind of guy you want around pretty much anytime, but especially in chaos.
God put some sort of light in him that just make everything brighter. He is gifted with something about him that just makes you remember that God is love. That is a really cool gift to have.
Brandon was the husband that he always continues to be in the highs and the lows. He was fighting the chaos but focused on God's providence. He was processing the newness, but looking out for my heart. He was constant in his affection and unrelenting in his understanding.
Legacy Church Pastor was epitomizing a servants heart, as he did a lot of the heavier lifting and the higher up reaches and the back and forth trips - without having ever met us before in his life. He simply heard of a need, and showed up to meet it.
Beyond all of that though, at the end of the day, as I spoke to God about how drastically different things had gone from how I pictured and wanted - He revealed more of Himself to me, and that alone would have been worth any struggle.
He reminded me of some sweetly simple truths through that rainy crazy Friday.
That even in the moments when I feel alone, He is there.
Even in the times when things seem messy, He is moving.
Even in the seasons I am lacking, He is providing.
When I call to Him, He answers.
When earthly possessions fall, He doesn't.
When I feel weak, He is strong.
When I need love, He is love, and He is manifesting that for us no matter where we are.
Even in the times when events aren't easy, they have purpose.
Because things weren't easy, they were foundational.
In order for something to be a surface that can be built on, it must be forged rock-solid.
So the move could have been painless, but instead it was purifying.
It allowed for Brandon and I to figure out from day 1 in Virginia that regardless of where life is being done, God is near and providing and walking it with us, strengthening us in Him.
It allowed a chance to meet New Friend in a vulnerable and real way, connecting quickly over the events taking place.
It provided a chance to trust. A chance to remember that our security isn't in our possessions, or our location, or our family, or even each other - but ultimately and exclusively in God alone.
What a beautiful way to begin a journey. I wouldn't have it any other way.
If I could choose now, I wouldn't choose the easy way.
I feel Him working here, and I am expectant over the future He is forging through the trial and the triumph.
In every breath I take, whether the air around me be infused with optimism, pessimism, or an uncomfortable mix of the two, I want my lungs to be ultimately filled with the only thing that sustains.
Faith.
Optimism can mislead. Pessimism does deceive.
Faith, however, frees - encouraging us to focus on the only one who holds this crazy world in His hands.
"Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert."
Isaiah 43:19
Sunday, April 10, 2016
Ending A Chapter
As I begin to type this, I am realizing that I don't even know the words to write to begin to express whats going on in my heart right now.
I am praying as I hit each key on this keyboard that, somehow, these words come together to form a feeling you can understand and relate to.
I don't even understand it.
The truck comes tomorrow. We load all of our belongings into a trailer and ship it off to meet us in Virginia at the end of next week.
This is actually happening, we are really leaving.
It is a weird combination of emotions building up as we say our 'goodbyes' and our 'see you laters' and as we pack boxes full to the brim with so many pieces of our journey and our story of the last four years.
A story that has contained monumental highs and lows in our life.
A story that has brought some of the most amazing people we have ever met.
Colorado has been home, and now it is not. Processing that is a weird mixture of simple and complex.
As we leave here, we leave as completely different people than we were when we arrived.
We leave here sculpted by the people and the experiences. By the heartache and the joys.
So, as our time here comes to an end, and as we pack these boxes and we begin to feel the tangible reality that this really is it - I am flooded by a profound sense of loss.
This chapter, this season, this moment, is over.
And that is followed by intense joy.
We are being brought from here to an absolute place of beauty and goodness and completely planned providence by our incredible God.
That level of excitement, of anticipation, is indescribable.
There is this huge part of me that wants to pack up the car tomorrow and leave a little over a week sooner than we are scheduled to, simply because I am joyously anxious over God's promise for this next step.
I can feel the goodness that He is preparing, I can feel His hand guiding every piece of this. I feel His peace and His reassurance and His comfort speaking to my soul and flooding my heart with confidence.
There is splendor ahead.
But, to get to that, we must leave what we know and love. We must leave what we are comfortable with and everything we had planned for.
We have to leave the familiar place.
The place that has built us, the people who have shaped us, the environment that has grown us.
This place.
This place where we came from Texas, believing that it could never compare.
This place where we experienced our first financial mistakes and what it looks like to journey back from that together.
This place where we brought home our first dog - totally unaware that she would become our world.
This place where we bought our first house together, and had it built from a dirt lot.
This place where we took in a relative stranger hoping to be able to make a difference in a tough point in his life, and in turn found him making a profound difference in ours.
This place where we journeyed through infertility and loss and grieving and appointments and confusion and anger and hurt.
This place where we yelled at God and asked hard questions and evaluated our faith and developed through the trials a relationship with our Creator beyond what we could ever comprehend.
This place where Brandon frightened me to the core with a severe head injury. Where I took care of him as he recovered.
This place where we formed friendships that will last for our lifetime, and memories that will break any fall.
This place, where we came home from buying our second home together - only to find two hours later that we were being sent to Virginia.
That place.
I don't have any idea what that place holds. Or what God will guide Brandon and I through together there. I know it will be good. I know it will be hard. And I know His Spirit goes with us.
So I am excited for that place.
But transition has a way of provoking reflection, and so that is where I find myself tonight.
Reflecting on the journey. Reflecting on an end to Colorado.
A couple nights ago I laid in bed next to Brandon and began to think about the lives around us that for the last several years we have been a part of - that we will soon not get to see everyday.
I began to list off the changes that were happening whether we were here or not.
Babies who I love with my whole being, that will grow up whether I am here to see it or not.
Strong, incredible women who will have new babies this summer, whether I am here or not.
Engagement periods and wedding plans that will be made, whether I am here or not.
Boxes that will be packed for others' own moves, whether I am here or not.
I began to run through this thought process with my incredible husband by my side, at first completely torn apart by all that I felt we will be missing, and then by the realization that so much of life is happening,
with or without us.
This stopped me dead in my tracks with the heaviest feeling of this entire process so far.
We are given only the time we have, in whatever place we are put.
Once that time is up, it is gone.
I turned to Brandon with total desperation and teared up as I asked him,
"Love, did we do everything we could while we were here?"
"No."
No, we didn't, he proceeded to explain.
There were likely opportunities that we missed.
We didn't do everything we could have.
But we did do some.
Some.
But...is 'some', enough?
Does 'some' change lives?
Does 'some' reach into the souls of the people we love passionately and bring them to a God who loves them infinitely more and save them from the reality of hell and bring them to a redeeming grace?
I cried in his amazing arms as I reflected on the relationships that are about to change, the potential opportunities missed, and the insane amount that we love the people we have here.
Have we shown them that love completely?
Have we done anything that has made a difference?
Have we given ourselves absolutely?
Have we ended this place leaving behind anything of value?
I cried.
And then I smiled, as the man I love went on to explain to me that despite our often flawed and lacking human selves - that God brings beauty and glory that we aren't even aware of.
He reminded me that we are privileged to be able to be a part of certain lives as God sees fit, but that our incredible Redeemer will continue to work in the lives of those we love, long after we are gone.
HE alone is capable. HE alone can show love, bring healing, and change lives.
We just got to sometimes be a part of that, in this place.
We just get to experience His goodness, and our entirely imperfect lives get help reveal the perfection of who He is.
I wiped my eyes and sat up and began to evaluate what we are leaving behind.
What difference, if any, our presence has made here.
What difference, HUGE difference, others presence has made to us.
We are all changing, constantly. Being shaped by the day.
We all have a group of people in our lives, contributing to what we are becoming.
We all have influence and ability to make positive differences, show incredible love, and leave this world better than we find it.
We spent the past several years with those kinds of people.
People who shaped us, stood by us, contributed to us, influenced us, and left us better than they found us.
We said 'see you later' to one of those key people last night.
Someone who left one of the biggest impacts on our lives of anyone we've ever known.
Someone who we love.
And that's when it became real, change really is happening.
We are really leaving.
Colorado is truly coming to and end.
Things will be good, no doubt, but they won't be the same.
We will never be in this place with these people again.
So what have we done with the time we have been given?
And knowing now how it feels to end a chapter, what will we do with the time we have ahead?
I want to be a person who shows love, brings joy, and most of all
points people to the Creator of their souls.
That is the only thing worth leaving behind.
That is the only difference worth making.
"If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing."
1 Corinthians 13:2
I am praying as I hit each key on this keyboard that, somehow, these words come together to form a feeling you can understand and relate to.
I don't even understand it.
The truck comes tomorrow. We load all of our belongings into a trailer and ship it off to meet us in Virginia at the end of next week.
This is actually happening, we are really leaving.
It is a weird combination of emotions building up as we say our 'goodbyes' and our 'see you laters' and as we pack boxes full to the brim with so many pieces of our journey and our story of the last four years.
A story that has contained monumental highs and lows in our life.
A story that has brought some of the most amazing people we have ever met.
Colorado has been home, and now it is not. Processing that is a weird mixture of simple and complex.
As we leave here, we leave as completely different people than we were when we arrived.
We leave here sculpted by the people and the experiences. By the heartache and the joys.
So, as our time here comes to an end, and as we pack these boxes and we begin to feel the tangible reality that this really is it - I am flooded by a profound sense of loss.
This chapter, this season, this moment, is over.
And that is followed by intense joy.
We are being brought from here to an absolute place of beauty and goodness and completely planned providence by our incredible God.
That level of excitement, of anticipation, is indescribable.
There is this huge part of me that wants to pack up the car tomorrow and leave a little over a week sooner than we are scheduled to, simply because I am joyously anxious over God's promise for this next step.
I can feel the goodness that He is preparing, I can feel His hand guiding every piece of this. I feel His peace and His reassurance and His comfort speaking to my soul and flooding my heart with confidence.
There is splendor ahead.
But, to get to that, we must leave what we know and love. We must leave what we are comfortable with and everything we had planned for.
We have to leave the familiar place.
The place that has built us, the people who have shaped us, the environment that has grown us.
This place.
This place where we came from Texas, believing that it could never compare.
This place where we experienced our first financial mistakes and what it looks like to journey back from that together.
This place where we brought home our first dog - totally unaware that she would become our world.
This place where we bought our first house together, and had it built from a dirt lot.
This place where we took in a relative stranger hoping to be able to make a difference in a tough point in his life, and in turn found him making a profound difference in ours.
This place where we journeyed through infertility and loss and grieving and appointments and confusion and anger and hurt.
This place where we yelled at God and asked hard questions and evaluated our faith and developed through the trials a relationship with our Creator beyond what we could ever comprehend.
This place where Brandon frightened me to the core with a severe head injury. Where I took care of him as he recovered.
This place where we formed friendships that will last for our lifetime, and memories that will break any fall.
This place, where we came home from buying our second home together - only to find two hours later that we were being sent to Virginia.
That place.
I don't have any idea what that place holds. Or what God will guide Brandon and I through together there. I know it will be good. I know it will be hard. And I know His Spirit goes with us.
So I am excited for that place.
But transition has a way of provoking reflection, and so that is where I find myself tonight.
Reflecting on the journey. Reflecting on an end to Colorado.
A couple nights ago I laid in bed next to Brandon and began to think about the lives around us that for the last several years we have been a part of - that we will soon not get to see everyday.
I began to list off the changes that were happening whether we were here or not.
Babies who I love with my whole being, that will grow up whether I am here to see it or not.
Strong, incredible women who will have new babies this summer, whether I am here or not.
Engagement periods and wedding plans that will be made, whether I am here or not.
Boxes that will be packed for others' own moves, whether I am here or not.
I began to run through this thought process with my incredible husband by my side, at first completely torn apart by all that I felt we will be missing, and then by the realization that so much of life is happening,
with or without us.
This stopped me dead in my tracks with the heaviest feeling of this entire process so far.
We are given only the time we have, in whatever place we are put.
Once that time is up, it is gone.
I turned to Brandon with total desperation and teared up as I asked him,
"Love, did we do everything we could while we were here?"
"No."
No, we didn't, he proceeded to explain.
There were likely opportunities that we missed.
We didn't do everything we could have.
But we did do some.
Some.
But...is 'some', enough?
Does 'some' change lives?
Does 'some' reach into the souls of the people we love passionately and bring them to a God who loves them infinitely more and save them from the reality of hell and bring them to a redeeming grace?
I cried in his amazing arms as I reflected on the relationships that are about to change, the potential opportunities missed, and the insane amount that we love the people we have here.
Have we shown them that love completely?
Have we done anything that has made a difference?
Have we given ourselves absolutely?
Have we ended this place leaving behind anything of value?
I cried.
And then I smiled, as the man I love went on to explain to me that despite our often flawed and lacking human selves - that God brings beauty and glory that we aren't even aware of.
He reminded me that we are privileged to be able to be a part of certain lives as God sees fit, but that our incredible Redeemer will continue to work in the lives of those we love, long after we are gone.
HE alone is capable. HE alone can show love, bring healing, and change lives.
We just got to sometimes be a part of that, in this place.
We just get to experience His goodness, and our entirely imperfect lives get help reveal the perfection of who He is.
I wiped my eyes and sat up and began to evaluate what we are leaving behind.
What difference, if any, our presence has made here.
What difference, HUGE difference, others presence has made to us.
We are all changing, constantly. Being shaped by the day.
We all have a group of people in our lives, contributing to what we are becoming.
We all have influence and ability to make positive differences, show incredible love, and leave this world better than we find it.
We spent the past several years with those kinds of people.
People who shaped us, stood by us, contributed to us, influenced us, and left us better than they found us.
We said 'see you later' to one of those key people last night.
Someone who left one of the biggest impacts on our lives of anyone we've ever known.
Someone who we love.
And that's when it became real, change really is happening.
We are really leaving.
Colorado is truly coming to and end.
Things will be good, no doubt, but they won't be the same.
We will never be in this place with these people again.
So what have we done with the time we have been given?
And knowing now how it feels to end a chapter, what will we do with the time we have ahead?
I want to be a person who shows love, brings joy, and most of all
points people to the Creator of their souls.
That is the only thing worth leaving behind.
That is the only difference worth making.
"If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing."
1 Corinthians 13:2
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
An Open Letter To My Husband On Our 10 Year Anniversary
Can you picture us there, my love?
10 years ago today.
We were just kids, sitting in that movie theater.
I was 15, and I thought that this long haired boy with a car and a tan was the greatest thing I would ever lay my eyes on.
I was wrong.
Only because - I did not know then, the man I would later see him become as we grew together.
-
You made two wrong turns on the way to the theater that night.
The theater you had driven to a thousand times.
I guess that is the kind of nerves that hit a kid,
driving his future wife to their very first date.
Who knew.
Looking back on those kids now, today, its hard to believe that was us.
When our biggest worry was if the teacher would see us texting each other under our desks at school and take our phones away..
Or if your parents would figure out the real reason our car battery had died in that parking lot...
We made mistakes. We had adventures. And we watched, day by day, as it become more and more clear to us that this was forever.
I remember, so vividly, the moment of sitting together on my parents couch, in their living room - just 6 months in to this journey. At 16 years old I looked at you with excitement and fear as we talked about this course our lives were on.
As we told each other that we both knew with absolute certainty that this was it.
There was no more searching or dating that needed to be done.
We knew forever was me and you.
And as we made that realization, we asked each other flat out - are you sure?
We are still so young.
This means we will never be with anyone else, but each other, for our whole lives - if we keep this course.
Are we sure?
Completely.
And in that moment, I think I understood for the very first time the full extent of what love is.
That love is so much more than just a feeling.
That love is every bit a choice.
Love, is the decision to wake up each day and to say hey -
I know that continuing this course with you means bills, and moves, and changes, and struggles, and joys, and obstacles, and life.
Continuing with you - means tackling it all together - and I choose it.
It means that whatever the cost may be, that I decide each day that paying it with you is better than any other alternative.
You, are better than any other alternative.
Because ultimately, marital love was designed to reflect our Savior.
It's purpose, to provide the smallest possible picture of His love for us.
That He has chosen to want each of us, no matter the cost.
That He has decided that even in our flaws and brokenness, that relationship with his beloved, his bride, is better than any other alternative.
I want you to know, without question, the incredible leader that you are in this journey together.
As we pass through the highs and the lows, the picture that you paint for me of the way Christ loves His church is absolutely beautiful. Thank you for that.
Thank you for following His call when we heard Him say "Go", and as He led us into your career, and these moves, and different states, and new friends.
Thank you for figuring out finances with me, even when its tight, and for constantly using that to remind me of priorities.
Thank you for walking with me through the heartache of infertility, and reminding me in the midst of it that you still want me, even when I feel unworthy.
Thank you for making me laugh in the hard times, when all I have wanted to do is cry.
Thank you for wrapping me in your strong arms and pulling me close and allowing me to feel so secure.
Thank you for constantly being an example to me of putting others first and caring for their needs above my own.
But most of all, thank you, for pointing me to our Savior.
Thank you for praying for me.
Thank you for the moments when I couldn't quite feel Him,
and you held me and told me it was okay.
And you waited patiently for me to once again see His hand in our crazy lives.
There was a moment, a couple of months ago, when you told me that you had heard it said,
the greatest honor in life, is to take care of someone who once took care of you.
This life with you is an honor, Brandon.
One where we are constantly taking care of each other through the inexplicable highs and lows, all the while, being more ultimately taken care of by a beautifully good God.
-
I love our journey.
I love our story.
I love every part of the past 10 years that has brought us from
those kids we once were, to these lovers we currently are.
-
I have a phrase, as you know, that I say to you frequently;
I marry you everyday.
In the craziness of life, it is natural for romance to get lost.
It is easy for priorities to become shifted.
It is simple to forget the kids we once were,
the God who has led us and grown us,
and to instead focus on the events of now.
But I want you to know that I will always be that girl,
looking at my boy,
and seeing the greatest thing I could ever lay my eyes on.
I want you to know that I will always be your bride,
standing beside you,
and pledging my love and my faithfulness to you.
I want you to know that each day,
as we wake up, and life is so much the same,
but also so different,
I am daily choosing this committed love that we have so intentionally and so divinely built together.
I marry you, everyday.
I love you, Brandon.
I am crazy about you, 10 years in, more than ever.
I still get butterflies waiting for you to come home.
I still get a thrill from your embrace.
I still crave your kisses.
I still get excited by your touch.
10 years in, I admire you, I respect you, I want you, I enjoy you,
I marry you, everyday.
Happy 10, my love.
Here's to the rest of our lives.
-
10 years ago today.
We were just kids, sitting in that movie theater.
I was 15, and I thought that this long haired boy with a car and a tan was the greatest thing I would ever lay my eyes on.
I was wrong.
Only because - I did not know then, the man I would later see him become as we grew together.
-
You made two wrong turns on the way to the theater that night.
The theater you had driven to a thousand times.
I guess that is the kind of nerves that hit a kid,
driving his future wife to their very first date.
Who knew.
Looking back on those kids now, today, its hard to believe that was us.
When our biggest worry was if the teacher would see us texting each other under our desks at school and take our phones away..
Or if your parents would figure out the real reason our car battery had died in that parking lot...
We made mistakes. We had adventures. And we watched, day by day, as it become more and more clear to us that this was forever.
I remember, so vividly, the moment of sitting together on my parents couch, in their living room - just 6 months in to this journey. At 16 years old I looked at you with excitement and fear as we talked about this course our lives were on.
As we told each other that we both knew with absolute certainty that this was it.
There was no more searching or dating that needed to be done.
We knew forever was me and you.
And as we made that realization, we asked each other flat out - are you sure?
We are still so young.
This means we will never be with anyone else, but each other, for our whole lives - if we keep this course.
Are we sure?
Completely.
And in that moment, I think I understood for the very first time the full extent of what love is.
That love is so much more than just a feeling.
That love is every bit a choice.
Love, is the decision to wake up each day and to say hey -
I know that continuing this course with you means bills, and moves, and changes, and struggles, and joys, and obstacles, and life.
Continuing with you - means tackling it all together - and I choose it.
It means that whatever the cost may be, that I decide each day that paying it with you is better than any other alternative.
You, are better than any other alternative.
Because ultimately, marital love was designed to reflect our Savior.
It's purpose, to provide the smallest possible picture of His love for us.
That He has chosen to want each of us, no matter the cost.
That He has decided that even in our flaws and brokenness, that relationship with his beloved, his bride, is better than any other alternative.
I want you to know, without question, the incredible leader that you are in this journey together.
As we pass through the highs and the lows, the picture that you paint for me of the way Christ loves His church is absolutely beautiful. Thank you for that.
Thank you for following His call when we heard Him say "Go", and as He led us into your career, and these moves, and different states, and new friends.
Thank you for figuring out finances with me, even when its tight, and for constantly using that to remind me of priorities.
Thank you for walking with me through the heartache of infertility, and reminding me in the midst of it that you still want me, even when I feel unworthy.
Thank you for making me laugh in the hard times, when all I have wanted to do is cry.
Thank you for wrapping me in your strong arms and pulling me close and allowing me to feel so secure.
Thank you for constantly being an example to me of putting others first and caring for their needs above my own.
But most of all, thank you, for pointing me to our Savior.
Thank you for praying for me.
Thank you for the moments when I couldn't quite feel Him,
and you held me and told me it was okay.
And you waited patiently for me to once again see His hand in our crazy lives.
There was a moment, a couple of months ago, when you told me that you had heard it said,
the greatest honor in life, is to take care of someone who once took care of you.
This life with you is an honor, Brandon.
One where we are constantly taking care of each other through the inexplicable highs and lows, all the while, being more ultimately taken care of by a beautifully good God.
-
I love our journey.
I love our story.
I love every part of the past 10 years that has brought us from
those kids we once were, to these lovers we currently are.
-
I have a phrase, as you know, that I say to you frequently;
I marry you everyday.
In the craziness of life, it is natural for romance to get lost.
It is easy for priorities to become shifted.
It is simple to forget the kids we once were,
the God who has led us and grown us,
and to instead focus on the events of now.
But I want you to know that I will always be that girl,
looking at my boy,
and seeing the greatest thing I could ever lay my eyes on.
I want you to know that I will always be your bride,
standing beside you,
and pledging my love and my faithfulness to you.
I want you to know that each day,
as we wake up, and life is so much the same,
but also so different,
I am daily choosing this committed love that we have so intentionally and so divinely built together.
I marry you, everyday.
I love you, Brandon.
I am crazy about you, 10 years in, more than ever.
I still get butterflies waiting for you to come home.
I still get a thrill from your embrace.
I still crave your kisses.
I still get excited by your touch.
10 years in, I admire you, I respect you, I want you, I enjoy you,
I marry you, everyday.
Happy 10, my love.
Here's to the rest of our lives.
-
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Embracing Turbulence
Brandon and I recently caught a last minute flight to
Florida. The circumstances were somber, the trip was unplanned, and
the weight that it carried was heavy on our hearts. I am not a fan of flying,
even under the best of conditions. For
this trip though, my heart was in my stomach through the entire duration of the
flight – and all throughout I bore sweaty palms and nervous twitches that had
less to do with the flight itself, and more to do with the happenstances that
had put us on this aircraft.
As we took
our anti-reclining assigned seats in 19E and 19F, on this plane full of noise
and strangers and stories, I wanted nothing more than to retreat from the chaos
and feel some ounce of peace and calm and rest.
The gentleman seated in 19D next
to Brandon, however, wanted nothing more than to share his entire life story
with us – complete with photographs and background stories and jokes and
examples and everything he could think of to share. It was endearing, and had
my heart been fully present I would have jumped more readily at the opportunity
to share love with an eager stranger who chose to allow a couple on a plane
into so much of his own story.
In these moments though, it was all I could do
to squeeze out a faked laugh, slap on a smile, and interject a word here or
there that made it sounds as though I was intently listening.
As the 3-hour
flight drew to a close, the fasten seat-belts sign came on and we were told to
prepare for some amount of turbulence in the landing. The weather in Florida was stormy and gusty
and, ironically, mimicking almost perfectly the conditions that my soul was
experiencing as a result of the accumulation of events taking place the past several
months.
Immediately, before even experiencing the first bump or the first ear
pop or the first stomach flip, I began to tremble. Fear had totally engulfed
me. And not fear that we wouldn’t land
safely, but more-so fear of the turbulence we were about to experience.
As I
tried to remember what it feels like to inhale and exhale, I took a moment to
pay attention to the people surrounding me who had been informed of the very
same turbulence. Rather than concerned
looks or white knuckles clenching their seats - I observed casual conversation,
laughter, snacks, and naps. It was as though this awareness of bumps ahead
proved of no consequence to them. That they were able to anticipate
that things may feel momentarily rough, but it would be temporary and they would then be on with the rest of their life. They seemed to grasp the concept that life keeps moving forward. And on the other
side, you will catch a likely turbulent venture back to where you started from.
Seeing this should have reminded me of truth. Instead, my breathing became even
more shallow, my hands sitting clenched on my lap were soaking sweat straight through
my leggings, and in that moment, I had zero focus. Zero reality. Only fear.
Only discomfort.
As the plane landed and our good friend 19D glanced in
my direction, he made a lighthearted joke about fear of flying. I tried to respond as if I were a normal
human being, but my heart had simply overflown in that moment. And rather than attributing my lack of calm
to some fear of flying, I got tears in my eyes and barely muttered out to him –
we are flying home because our grandpa has died. We need to be with family. I’m just not in a good place for this kind of turbulence. I’m not okay today.
we are flying home because our grandpa has died. We need to be with family. I’m just not in a good place for this kind of turbulence. I’m not okay today.
With that, this poor & friendly man looked at me
with shock and concern as he apologized for our loss. Brandon’s hand gripped mine tightly as he
brushed my hair back, kissed me on the forehead, and gave me a look that told
me that I was loved and valued despite my breakdown – that even in my messiest
of moments he knew my heart and it was alright for me to not be okay
for that time.
He was with me.
Not just physically next to me, but truly there
in the midst of life swirling around us – with me.
This imagery, this beautiful and difficult
picture of experiencing turbulence in life while simultaneously processing and
sorting through yesterday’s trials... This vision of bracing for bumps ahead
and preparing your stomach for unsettling feelings, even as it is still recovering
from the last twist it endured… This idea of being so involved in the healing
of my own heart, that my true intention is taken away from the 19D’ers of this
life and focused so squarely on my own self…
But man. This grace, that in all
of this – there is love. That my hand is so tightly gripped not only by my
incredible husband, but - more beautifully and more importantly - by my
incredible God.
This is the scenario that has been playing
through my mind, as life has been taking some unexpected turns. This is the
scene that gets reenacted as I sort through what God is doing in this season of
our lives. How these elements that have shaped Brandon and I’s journey this
past year – these pieces of transition, and infertility, and injury, and job
change, and our church change, and then sickness and a very turbulent 2015 –
led me to a place of saying, “Okay, well that didn’t feel very good. 2016 won’t
be this way. I won’t let it toss me around like that. This is the year for
stability.”
I am learning, slowly, that there is never a year
for stability. Never a month. Or a week. Or a day. Or even an hour necessarily.
Life is unstable, and constantly changing.
And if our prominent goal is for everything to feel as though we are
strong and determined and steady and fearless – then goodness, we are in for a
bumpy ride. That pedestal we are setting ourselves on is a perfect platform for
us to fall right off, and land right on our behinds. There will always be
opportunity for us to be weakened. Our determination can always waver. Nothing
on this earth is promised or guaranteed to us 100%. And every single one of us will experience
fear in the midst of this crazy journey.
There is only one. There is just one thing that
is constant. In the epitome of highs and lows and the broad range of
experiences life brings, my soul craves the only certainty. A faithful God. A
God who sits between us and the world as we panic through the bumps and who
holds our hand, and brushes our hair back, and is with us.
If my imperfect, human
husband can love me with such fervency, how much deeper and greater and more
intimately can my eternal God love me in my mess? If Brandon can understand the turmoil I feel
at times, how much more can this God know every ounce of my mind and heart and
soul? If this gift I have been given of a partner on this earth can stand by my
side through beauty and through ashes, how much more can I rely on my Savior,
my King, to never leave me and never abandon me no matter the cost.
This love.
Stronger than the most turbulent winds.
Recently, Brandon and I bought a house here in
Colorado. We planned to be in Colorado for years to come, and decided it was a
good time to once again invest in a house to call our own. So, we chose one. We loved it. We began dreaming, planning,
picking out projects to personalize it.
The whole time I kept telling Brandon that somewhere in my extreme
excitement, it didn’t feel like it was going to be our home. We wrote it off as
a symptom of all the chaos going on and moved forward. We had it inspected,
appraised, the whole home buying experience.
On January
29th we closed and at 10AM the house became “ours”.
Two hours later, at noon, we received an email
that Brandon had been selected for an assignment, we were moving.
We were in
shock.
How were we supposed to move when
we had just bought a home in Colorado? How were we supposed to leave these friends and this life we have here?
I will probably never in my whole life forget
the raw honest emotion flooding us in that moment as Brandon prepared to head
to work and find out where our mystery assignment was. He tied his shoe laces, grabbed his jacket,
walked over and hugged me, and whispered…
” God knows what He is doing, right?”.
And we just stood there.
Frozen in the in-between space that is found when everything in your heart KNOWS that God is good and that He is working in your situation – but your mind is still screaming out a million questions and fears and what ifs. It’s a weird place to be in. On the one hand, I know we could never be in any better place than where He wants us to be, but the timing didn’t make sense.
His plan didn’t make sense.
This whole situation didn’t make sense.
” God knows what He is doing, right?”.
And we just stood there.
Frozen in the in-between space that is found when everything in your heart KNOWS that God is good and that He is working in your situation – but your mind is still screaming out a million questions and fears and what ifs. It’s a weird place to be in. On the one hand, I know we could never be in any better place than where He wants us to be, but the timing didn’t make sense.
His plan didn’t make sense.
This whole situation didn’t make sense.
There was no ability to turn around and
sell this house after two hours of ownership, and our move into it was
scheduled for the very next day. After
about 15 minutes that felt like 15 years, Brandon called me with the news that
he had learned the location of our assignment –
Charlottesville, VA
And in that moment, our next adventure began. As
our heads felt dizzy with the weight of what we had just so suddenly learned,
my heart felt jolted with complete joy and intense peace that this was exactly
where we needed to go. There is purpose in these switchbacks. As I wrestled
with the questions surrounding the coming months, there was one question I
could not debate.
“God knows what He is doing, right?”
Absolutely. Do I believe that? Yes. With my entire being. Do I feel that? No, not always and especially not much lately. Do I understand it? I don't. Not yet. I don’t know if we ever will.
But what I do understand is that it was in these moments, as so many other things were competing for my heart, I could feel nothing but eager anticipation for whatever incredible things He has in store for us in Virginia.
“God knows what He is doing, right?”
Absolutely. Do I believe that? Yes. With my entire being. Do I feel that? No, not always and especially not much lately. Do I understand it? I don't. Not yet. I don’t know if we ever will.
But what I do understand is that it was in these moments, as so many other things were competing for my heart, I could feel nothing but eager anticipation for whatever incredible things He has in store for us in Virginia.
Over the last several days I have been mulling
over the thought that in every turbulence we have the choice to continue on or
to be overtaken. Far too often, I allow
my anxious heart to be overcome by fear.
I want to live life in a way that my
plane can be doing barrel rolls, and I am having a drink and sitting with my
husband telling 19D that Jesus is amazing, and that this life He is walking
with us is good. I want to be so focused on my unchanging Savior, that in the bumpiest
part of life I can feel steady as I am anchored to Him.
I want to embrace the turbulence; knowing that He
will land the plane and I will move forward with my journey. I will go through
cycles of feet on the ground clarity, and head in the clouds chaos – and through
both my purpose will not change. I will
live in whatever state He places me. Give up whatever material items He
requires of me. Leave behind whatever I had falsely defined as my “home”, in
order to pursue His leading and eternal glory.
He is good, all the time. All the time, He is
good.
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