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

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