So, there was this family that was waiting on God.
And they wondered if they’d never move on.
Past the hurt. Past the tears. Past the suffocating feeling of being tied down tight.
Yet, deep in their hearts they knew, they knew, they knew that God would not forsake them.
And as days turned into weeks turned into months turned into years, the sorrow lost it’s strangling grip, and the passion in their hearts to minister to a precious body of believers beat fervently stronger.
And the calling from God for the dear husband to pastor a church grew deafeningly loud.
Though they still – sat – waiting.
Through that time they sought God probably like never before. And they watched as He brought grace through the aching, beauty from the ashes, and deep joy amidst the pain.
Never once did they not have food on the table (unless the mom forgot to turn the crock-pot on, and then come five minutes to dinner, she’d go scrambling).
Never once did they not have a roof over their heads, or fresh water enough to fill the tub, or money for gas though prices went soaring.
Some days were lonely. Some hurts still pierced to aching.
Yet all the while they knew that God was working all things for good and for His precious glory!
And one day not that long ago, they got called by a church just a few hours drive away.
A church that had been searching and waiting even longer than they.
So they prayed for God’s will – but it wasn’t long before suitcases were being thrown into their beaten down suburban. Six kids all a scramble and their mama with tummy fluttering climbed into the passenger seats as the husband drove them to a town they’d never been.
And hours later they all tumbled out with cracker crumbs in hair and remnants of granola bar mushed in the carpet upholstery.
Shy smiles peeked out from behind the mama’s leg. And you’d think that they’d burst from the excitement and nerves. All the while feeling like these were days they knew they’d be treasuring.
The weekend was full and busy and beautiful. The people so easy to love.
And the husband spoke Truth and preached for God’s glory.
And before the family headed back home they all stood in a circle, hands clinging to one another, as if they just didn’t want to let go.
There was no Ah-ha! moment. No flashing in the clouds. No words spelled right out with glowing letters from above. Just a sweet sense of peace knowing that if the church called, they – WE! Yes, our precious family! – we would go!
And just about forty-eight hours ago, my incredible husband received and accepted the call to pastor this church that we’re already falling in love with.
And I sit with tears weeping for the goodness of God, for all the hard moments being used for His glory, and for the sad good-byes that are soon to be coming.
So this place might get quiet. Or maybe loud as my mind scrambles with everything – I’m just not sure. But I want you to know that as we pack up our home, our family, our lives, and as we say some teary good-byes to friends and family that have blessed us more than words can say, and as we learn to walk and live and breathe in love in a whole new place in just a little over two weeks – that your prayers and encouragement and love mean the world to me.
Thank you for blessing my heart once again!
To God be the glory!