It is hard to believe that it has almost been a month since
we drove the seventeen hours to this new town. One month since the last play
dates with best friends were played. One month since we hugged the closest of
friends and we were covered in prayer. One month since we waved goodbye to our
family and drove down the street.
Leaving was hard – a lot harder than I ever expected. I miss
my mom, my friends, my church. I miss easy conversations and spur of the moment
play dates. I miss knowing how to get to the grocery store and the kids
schools. I really, really miss knowing how to get back home.
I still yearn for the
familiar.
This past month has been simply a blur.
We camped, organized utilities and house insurance, got our
vehicles inspected and insured (what a pain that process was), took possession
of our new home, moved into the main floor of our home and then a week later
moved the rest of our stuff into the basement, vacuumed, scrubbed and organized
a neglected woodshop, drove around town registering for after-school
activities, attended two different churches, began a new school year, started the
process of transforming a house into a home and, this past weekend, we adopted
a 3-year old neglected puppy into our family.
Yet, amidst all of that craziness there has been such blessing.
God blessed us with a house builder who was willing to work with my west coast
style and who worked so hard to get us into our home quickly. We were blessed
to meet the children’s teachers before the school year started and both
appeared to be a great fit for their individual personalities. God blessed us
with neighbors who have children the exact same age as our children – all of
whom run from yard to yard playing with one another. He blessed us by allowing
us to see another piece of His amazing creation. And of course, the reason we
are in this town, God blessed us with the most perfect job, school division and
staff for my husband – he truly comes home from work happy and excited for the
next day.
However, there are still those moments when loneliness and
anxiety and worry seep into my bones and I begin to question God’s plans. We
are yet to feel that we have found a church that we can truly call home and
that is hard for me – I am craving the fellowship that comes with a home church.
Staff and church fall kick-off parties are nothing less than awkward
when you know not a single soul. And then there is the unfulfilled need and desire to fill
my home with friends. I love a house full of friends; whether, it is for tea
and coffee or dinner or one of our gatherings of 50 or 60 people. I want these walls to absorb the laughter and joy of loving friendships.
When these moments of loneliness, anxiety and worry hit I forget that I pray to a fully
capable and powerful God. I forget all that He has done and will continue to do
in our lives. I forget the greatness of Him.
I forget rather than remember.
Like the Israelites I forget. I forget the miraculous signs
in Egypt - the bloody river, the swarms of flies and hoards of frogs, the
locusts and hail, and the grace of Passover. I forget the parted sea, the cloud
and the pillar of fire, the rocks overflowing with water, the manna and fallen
birds that sustained and momentarily satisfied. I forget the Holy Land and each
nation that was driven out. I forget His grace.
God longs for us to remember - that we would always see His
hand at work in our lives. Receiving all that He gives as grace.
And so I remember His works and the wonders He has bestowed
upon my family.
I purposefully remember the words He spoke to me three years
ago when He told me that I could live anywhere as long as I always lived with Him.
I remember the darkness and, more importantly, the brightness of His Light the
moment I first believed. I remember the friends and community that He poured
into my life. I remember the gentle loosening of a mother-daughter bond; which
gave me the courage to fly. I remember how, in trials, He strengthened my
husband’s faith; creating a man whom is leading his family closer to Christ. I
remember how He prevented me from returning to teaching when the timing was not
part of His plan and I remember how He provided comfort and counsel when I felt
as though I had failed. I remember how he drew my husband and I away from our
small group and into a Bible study that we completed together – allowing us to
grow stronger as a couple and closer to Him. I remember how desire ceased for
camping and other summer activities; and yet, how He provided one last trip
along the Pacific Ocean with the best of friends. I remember how He secured us the
perfect home and how He made the sale of our old home so very quick. I remember
the perfectness of the job posting and the joy that filled our home the night
my husband accepted that job offer. I remember the prayers that were answered
as He prepared our children for the move that was before us. Yes, I remember all
the prayers that He answered that led us to this very place.
I know the day will come when this town will truly feel like
home. A day when everything will be familiar and our lives will be blessed with
friendships and community. A day when we will see what God, Himself, saw all
along.
To remember is to glorify Him– to show the world His
goodness. As a couple, we are committed to always remembering (and sharing) how
God has worked in our lives and by His grace continues to work.
“We will not hide
these truths from our children; we will tell the next generation about the
glorious deeds of the LORD, about His power and His mighty wonders” (Psalms
78:4)
