Well friend, if you were to have told me a year ago, or any time in my life for that matter, that I would be living in Jersey, I would have laughed. We both would have. I imagined that living in Jersey would be similar to “Jersey Shore” and we’d be hanging out with “the Situation” and Snooki. Well, as you are well aware, we definitely live in Jersey, and in case you were jealous, it’s nothing like “Jersey Shore”. Having said that, there are quite a few people that should have been casted on Jersey Shore, and I’m one of the only true blondes you’ll see for miles. Jersey, is fine, there is nothing wrong with it, but it’s not exactly where we feel we are supposed to be. Our 14 miles to Midtown has us living perfectly between worlds. We’re there often, but not enough. Unsure where to build our life. It’s hardly what we pictured when moving here. Yes, I am thankful, very thankful. Thankful for the charming house we find ourselves in–an absolute miracle, thankful for our amazing neighborhood and neighbors, and thankful for David’s 45 min door to door commute–most days, that is. I am also thankful that after years of dreaming, my album will be complete at the end of this week. Yet, even in thankfulness, I feel lost. We have so many dreams wrestling inside, and such clarity of dreams, but our steps feel muddy and blind. Doors seem barred; Heaven seems silent. The Proverbs that plays on repeat daily and even more often at night is, “If a man’s steps are ordered by the Lord, then how can a man understand his way”. Nothing seems truer and more assuring. There is something so beautiful about walking this blind walk, but also something so raw and fragile. I know I am both, raw and fragile.
I’ve been thinking so much about the life of Joseph and the similarities of our current season. Dreams, and waiting. Dreams, and waiting. I’m sure many times he felt forgotten, and looked at his current circumstances and nothing made sense. Then glimpses of hope–translating dreams, only to be forgotten again. But God knew exactly where he was taking him. None of his steps were blind ones, though I am sure to Joseph his steps felt dark.
Only God knows why He brought us here. We know the dreams that burn inside. We know the willingness of our hearts. We have to learn to live with open hands, holding loosely what He’s given us, while still wildly pursuing the dream insides. Oh, friend, how badly I want to see more– to know more. Right now I don’t get to see, I get to trust.
So, here we find ourselves in the new year, and like you I’m sure, have chosen to be without much of the things in life that fill so readily, and distract so freely, so we can begin this new chapter with a blank slate and Jesus. Never have I felt so stripped and so aware of how I really feel inside. I think it’s good. I’m not entirely sure yet. There’s already been magnified awareness of our current space, but now, even more, with nowhere to escape or few things to distract I find myself feeling utterly bare, and transparent. As if all my spilling hadn’t tipped you off already. I’m glad for these first 31 days, whatever these days may give. I don’t want to ignore my soul along the way and miss those revealing moments where I am face to face with this journey I am on. I want to walk blind with Jesus, and be fully with Him on the walk. It’s what we all want, right? Easier talked, harder walked.
On a lighter, semi-funnier note–actually not that funny at all, I have also welcomed the new year by whole heartedly embracing the stomach virus. Thankfully, I’m the only one. I’m praying the kids don’t get it and hoping with David’s insane 15 hour days, he’s not even around long enough to catch it. Having described our current existence, I know exactly what you’re going to say. Yes, I’m taking a deep breath, and you are right, a messy house isn’t the end of the world. I have baskets of laundry all around. My kitchen isn’t tidy. My bedroom isn’t tidy. Nothing is really tidy. There are many legos and various creatures strewn about. Almost 15 movies have been watched, maybe more. Leon has told me though that they are “epically fine, and are not hungry, they have had 2 bars, a bowl of crackers, and cheerios”. I guess there could be worse situations. He also told me if I needed to rest in bed all day, he had everything under control. He then proceeded by telling me I should stay in bed all day (with just a touch of excitement and slyness in his voice) followed by much wisdom, a change of tone and the reasoning that it would make me feel so much better. We both know he was scheming copious amounts of cookies, or just spoonfuls of sugar. Who wouldn’t? Sol’s empathy, on the other hand, has keep me sane. He’s frequently rubbing my back, kissing me on the forehead or cheek and telling me he’s so sorry I’m not feeling well. Me too, Spanky, me too. But, this too shall pass.
Hope your first 7 have been eventful, but in a different way.
We’re being led, and it’s better than where we would have gone. It always is.
Miss you!
Bep
from bep 