I have been putting this blog off for weeks now.
I knew I wanted to write it, but I’ve just been struggling to do it because I knew if I tried to sum up these last eight months, I would fail miserably. They don’t fit into a blog.
They were beautiful. They were so of God, I still lack words when I talk about them. They were a fight, a constant one in a beautiful war zone. They were healing, redemptive and worth it. They were worth every single time I wanted to walk out of the room because the truth I was facing was too painful and they were worth every tear I cried. They were worth the hard conversations. They were worth the risk and the failures. They were one hot mess at times and a beautiful celebration at other times. They were glorious and sacred and I will forever look back on them with a smile on my face, knowing that I gave my absolute everything.
I have been home for almost a month now and maybe this blog is just going to be about home now because well, we already talked about this.
I still vividly remember receiving a text message from a dear friend, just as I was about to board my flight home from LAX. It said „I’m praying for peace.“ Little did I know that just hours later, this would be my most desperate cry, the cry for peace.
During my layover in Paris I downloaded some e-mails and one of them happened to be a discouraging no about a job opportunity I was hopeful for.
On that next flight, sitting in seat 6B I started crying (I’m a plane cryer so no need to be concerned, ha). What the heck am I doing with my life? I just left everyone I loved. Where there was peace before fear took over, doubt crept in. I cried some more but at some point the sweet voice of the Father broke through. I heard him say that this is the battle we are going to fight, that sometimes we have to proclaim and hope for the things we have yet to see, and that this is one of those moments. Sometimes we have to prophesy about things that have yet to return to his goodness.
You don’t even know how much this has carried me through time of transition because honestly, it’s pretty much what home has been like. It’s been a fight, a battle for peace and for hope and all things good. I have experienced what it means to be desperate for His presence because I just need it. And I want it. It’s been a battle where shame, fear, doubt and anxiety all knocked on the door. And then peace and hope and joy answered. At least sometimes, haha. Sometimes they looked pretty good and I let them in, just to find myself in an even bigger battle.
I have found myself trying to avoid failure again instead of letting it teach me something and man, that’s just not been working out. Failure deserves a whole blog for itself because uhm God’s been wrecking my life with that. But I am not letting myself get back into my old mindset of avoiding failure at all cost, because it just doesn’t cut it. It’s not worth it.
A friend told me that this last season was so much about learning and growing, but I will learn and grow even more now that I’m home. And I’m starting to think that she was right. The Father just keeps taking me deeper and deeper, He is not stopping and He never will. We are too precious to give up on. He loves us too much for that. He’s not going to let us hang in there and be like now that you’re home figure out your mess alone I’m out k bye. He’s just so much more than that. He is unchanging, and I just want him every day for the rest of my life.
So yes, home has been a little bit of everything. Good and bad and hard and messy. But that’s transition, let it be what it needs to be.
“Who you are and what you’ve done are all we’ll ever want. Through the night my soul longs for you. Deep from within me my spirit reaches out to you.” – Isaiah 25:8-9
Photo taken by someone I miss very much MOLLI CAITE HUGHES
