i wasn't going home.
instead, early that morning with bleary eyes and a heavy heart, we headed towards the town that would become our own. and i felt sick...
coffee in hand and his in the other i lifted my eyes to Him as we prayed for guidance and direction. as i begged Him to draw near, to help me see past my strangling fear.
with every house we looked at, i thought of my yellow home. the one that i have loved despite the lack of insulation and the cracks in the doors and windows that let in the -40 degree wind. despite the fact that the plumbing was going to be next to go and that there were a surprising amount of spiders that would greet me before i had a chance to put my glasses on. the home that we became a family of 5 in...the one that we fought in and made up in. He strengthened me in that home, He changed me there and i left it all behind...
but, He is faithful regardless of our eyes that have a tendency to remain locked on what was and He led us to a house that is the farthest thing from yellow and enveloped me in His peace the moment i crossed the threshold and as i looked throughout the rooms i felt Him whisper, "kimberley, you are home."
this morning is ash wednesday and under heavy clouds and bitting rain, i stood before an ocean that holds the ashes of my father-in-law.
a stark reminder of the mingled relationship sin and death have.
the air was biting, blowing the rain into tiny needles that pelted us as we stood before the power of the deep. the sound greeted me and i felt drawn like a magnet to it. a glimpse...a glimpse of the unfathomable awesomeness of the Creator who formed it.
even the waves pound out His name...
i sat in my sister's church yesterday, bent over my bible to find the passage being discussed by the teacher when i became still.
in the right chapter but the wrong page, i began to search out the section i thought we were in when i felt my spirit quicken in response,
and everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters
or father or mother or children or fields
for my sake... (matthew 19:29a)
He knows...He knows the cost the He asks of each one of us. He knows that when He pulled the rug out from underneath my feet, He was asking me to leave *everything* behind. He knows the pain He is asking me to walk through. and I am faced with the question, is He worth it?
i glanced to my right this morning as my face was being whipped by the rain and the salty spray in the air. tiny and insignificant, trembling in the bent, green grass, hope was blooming...
He promises, in the last part of the verse in matthew,
...will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life.
sin and death have the potential to take everything away from us. but in the darkness, in the fear, in the brokenness that surround as a result, He opens His beautiful and scarred Hands and offers us the one thing that cannot be broken or destroyed...eternal life.
so, is He worth it? is the life He has chosen for me, this road that He has asked me to walk...is it worth it?
yes ~ it leads me closer to Him.
tomorrow, i begin the last leg of my journey home.
the-not-yellow-at-all-home.
and He is there, and He will be with me every step of the way.
and you know what?
i'm a little excited...
