Most people cringe when life throws them curve balls. They dig their heels in and refuse to be moved by the wind, but not me. I've always loved change. I grew up telling my parents that I'd be happy if we moved every four or five years. What was the point of being be settled? Why be stuck in one place? Why only have one home when there is a whole world out there to see? Even just recently I told my Dad that I could picture my future looking something like a 5th floor walk up efficiency apartment- air conditioning, an oven, or even a separate living room were all optional. It wouldn't be big or fancy. It isn't ideal for a large family and it definitely isn't the American dream... but it'd be mine. A place to drop off my suitcase in between stints of traveling.
If I'm being honest though, for as much as I love change...and for as much peace as I feel about moving to Costa Rica in just a few short weeks (and then Ecuador in the spring)... this season of transition has definitely been a hard one- physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
On one hand, I am expectant of the journey awaiting me. Expectant of what? I'm not quite sure yet. God seems to have his own plans that I'm not quite filled in on, so I'm continuously and slowly learning to wait on His timing. To go with the flow and completely relinquish control so that my life reflects whatever adventure He sets before me.
On the other hand, there's a reality to moving internationally that I hadn't thought about before... Which items do I sell? What do I take because it can't be easily purchased upon arrival? Do I love my Lord of the Rings Extended Edition DVD Box Set enough to me to keep it in storage? (Answer: Ashamedly, yes.) What about all of those t-shirts? Books? Throw pillows? Or knick-knacks that have been gifted to me over the years? (Answer: Probably not.) Where does my small collection of furniture that couldn't be sold end up? ... The list goes on ...
In my never ending search for change (and also moving as often as I do), I've never been overly sentimental with physical items. Yet, during this season, while trying to compact the last six years of my life into small corners of my parents' home, the countdown and clutter have become my reality.
Then one afternoon a few weeks ago, I was sitting on the floor stuffing Christmas ornaments, movies, kitchen utensils, and anything else that didn't fit into the closet of my childhood bedroom into a mirage of boxes headed for the basement. I was laughing at the sheer randomness of items I've somehow collected in my brief 24 years. That is, until I felt the tears. They welled up in my eyes and I pushed them back down, my pride refusing to let a single one fall onto my cheeks.
I was laughing at the sheer randomness of items I've somehow collected in my brief 24 years. That is, until I felt the tears. They welled up in my eyes and I pushed them back down, my pride refusing to let a single one fall onto my cheeks.
As I sorted through the clutter, putting each of the items in a pile- sell, donate, re-purpose, save, or trash- I began to think about other parts of my life that I was also packing up. The weddings, birthdays, and milestones I'd be missing... The transient feeling of having already lived out of my car and a carry on suitcase for six months... The uncertainty of having absolutely no set plans beyond "get there"... And the undeniable thought that I'm not walking away from my dreams, but that they are shifting around me.
By 24 my grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles, cousins, several friends, and even brother had all married. They had apartments or homes, were taking the next step in their careers or schooling, bought pets, or were thinking about the right time to have kids. It's safe to say, a life in missions and the scene playing out (ya know, the one where I sat on the floor, alone, packing my life into boxes yet again) wasn't how I'd pictured my mid-twenties. Not wrong by any means, just different.
Don't mishear me now, I've cried my fair share during the past year- in both joy and frustration, both sleep-deprivation and laughter, during both quiet times of prayer and while pulling yet another late night drive home, and even once or twice while preaching, unsure if I would be able to finish... but these tears felt different. While my reality has shifted around me, these weren't tears filled with questions, but tears of knowing:
Knowing that God is good even when I don't "feel" it.
Knowing a sense of peace even when my future seems unclear.
Knowing that a promise and a plan are coming to fruition in my life.
Knowing that as I step into this journey, there is a large chance I may never reclaim any of these items.
And most ardently, knowing that no matter the outcome I'm okay with it all.
So there I was... sitting on my floor squeezing my eyes closed, counting my breaths in four then out four like I've taught so many other girls to do, as quiet words covered my thoughts. "Faithful is He that calls you, and He also will bring it to pass." (Check out 1 Thessalonians 5 Here)
I'd read those words just a few days before and had written them down in my journal, reminding myself to hold on to them because I'd need them one day. I didn't expect one day to be so soon though.
Faithful: Defined as being loyal, constant, and steadfast.
So tonight, as I sit here on my 24th birthday, reflecting on that moment and the journey that both led me there and stands before me now, I am so thankful that Paul wrote that HE is faithful.
He is loyal. He is constant. And He is steadfast. I'm thankful that those words, in that moment, recalled the nature of Christ and not of me. A nature that I can only try to imitate with my life. On this birthday, I am reminded of two things: First and foremost, even when I am lacking- God's faithfulness is always sufficient. Secondly, of simple words written in my journal later that day:
Falling in love with Jesus is the craziest thing I've ever done... It's also the best.
Thanks to each of you for being a part of this year and this journey. If this is what 24 (and the rest of my future) looks like...I think I'll be just fine.
Until Next Time,
Rachel
