If I could pick up and move anywhere in the world it would be just thirty minutes down the road to the beach. Absolutely nothing compares to sitting on an old beach towel, toes in the sand, hair tangled up in the wind, and eyes set on the ocean. The ocean draws me in. I don’t even need to open my eyes to feel its mighty presence. The salty air, the gentle breeze, the crashing waves, it’s all so much bigger than me.
The vastness of the ocean is like the strange new expanse of my life. When Andrew died the life I knew before died with him. Everything changed. With change came new possibilities. An endless amount of options of what my life could be. But this new expanse, this new current going on inside of me. It’s pulling me forward away from the life I love, the man I love, and the home we built together. Just like the strong rip current of the ocean, I can’t fight the change. Fighting it only exhausts me more, and sends me searching for answers I will never find.
Instead I must embrace the change believing this current will not pull me under completely.
Will it pull me away from solid ground?
Will it take me somewhere I have never been before?
Will I eventually find solid ground again?
The next step forward in the life I did not choose is a move. A move away from the last place WE called home. The place where WE made memories together. The beautiful private retreat WE could envision in our minds from the first day we set foot on the property. The place where WE last: prayed together, cried together, laughed together, and dreamed together as a family of five. It is a sacred place. A beautiful memory I will hold close to my heart for the rest of my life.
As I boxed up his office this week I couldn’t take it anymore. With tears streaming down my face, I melted into his swivel chair looking out the office window into our beautiful front yard. As I sat and wept I remembered the last Instagram story he shared from that very spot. It was just two days before he died. He was working in his office preparing his message for Sunday and he snapped a quick video of our calm quiet front yard with the words, “not a bad place to study.”
He loved this house. He was proud of this place. He had vision for what it could be, and now we are saying goodbye. If he could see us in our grief and pain I am certain his heart would be shattered.
As we prepare to move out this week, I am grateful to be moving into a new place that is truly a gift from God. A giant hug from a loving Father who is holding us close to His heart. These last few months God has taken care of every single detail above and beyond what we could have ever asked or imagined. As we move forward and literally move out of our home I know He goes before us, He never leaves us, and He will make a way.
If you are like me caught up in the riptide of a life you did not choose, take a deep breath and exhale. You may feel utterly alone, but you are not. You may feel like nobody cares, but that is not the truth. You may feel like you are a burden, but that is an absolute lie. I know you are exhausted from the fight, I am right there with you. These trials are hard, downright impossible! But, together we can choose to keep moving forward. One minute, one hour, and one day at a time. Believing there is solid ground, and a happy beautiful life to be found off on a distant shore. God’s Got This.