she lost her first tooth and i've lost my camera.
and i became oddly attached to a rooster who lost his head.
and sitting at my kitchen table last week, i was faced with losing what little security 6 months can give when i heard his voice on the other end of the phone tell me that a transfer loomed in our future.
it's not the first time i've lost.
and i've watched others lose more.
but there is something about the bottom dropping out...again...that brings out what is really deep inside.
i am a worrier, by nature.
a pessimist deep down to my bones.
ingrained deep, i can't imagine my life without the comfort of that one bit of predictability.
until, as the pitch in my voice rose, his voice pulled me back in,
kimberley, i need you to be strong this time. i need you to trust that God is in control.
i paused, because that morning i had read,
it is better to live in a desert land than with a quarrelsome and fretful woman. prov 21:19
and i'd follow him wherever, i'd trust him with whatever and for him i'd do whatever it took to ease the burden that another move, more change, would bring.
what i wanted to do, what i was tempted to do, and what i did do a little, was take a deep breath of worry, allow it to circulate through my spirit, pump it's poison deep and exhale panic and anger and words sharp and bitter.
but He says that we are a new creation when we believe in Him and so instead, after my small moment of verbalizing the fear and worry i felt, i took a deep breath in...
and breathed out thanks.
thankful for the time here,
for 6 months of rest,
for an amazing church,
for wonderful, amazing, new friends,
for another step towards healing,
for the unshakable knowledge that wherever He was sending us, He was going before us and He would make a place for us wherever home would be;
because He proved Himself faithful in that first step of this journey almost 12 long months ago.
and this morning, i read of leah. the one with the weak eyes and the unloved heart.
the one who faced hatred and scorn and was never. quite. enough.
and with each boy she birthed, she named in the hopes that "this time" her dire circumstance would change.
then judah, the fourth son to be cradled in her arms.
and she gazed at his sweet, newborn face as she proclaimed over him,
this time i will praise the Lord.
a conscious effort to stop trying to change what lay around her and instead stop and praise Him for the gift He has given in this moment.
the Lord closed up Leah's womb for a time, maybe to give her wrestled-weary-soul a rest?
and when the phone rang on friday morning, when i saw it was his number and he told me that a time frame had been given, i sat down and listened to a season of moving and uncertainty come to a close.
He had provided a place of work here.
He is providing a season of rest, where roots can sink deep and we can find our place.
and i am stunned and thrilled and completely taken off guard...
i am so very, incredibly thankful...