Comfort is a familiar temptation, isn't it? Once snuggled into a thick blanket of comfort it is difficult to pursue uncertainty.
Yet in the uncertainty lies adventure.
Hope.
Deep-seeded faith.
I look back on last year and all the change we've been through. I wouldn't want to live with those levels of stress on a regular basis, but there is a beauty in discomfort and trials. The only beauty to be found when faced with any significant challenge in life.
Faith.
We are forced to leap off ledges we would never step near. We are forced to run blindly into futures with unforeseen outcomes. Failure lurking around every corner. Only God can bring comfort in those types of days.
I remember hiking the trail on the butte in our (now) backyard when we first bought the property. It was intimidating. I was unsure if I could climb it. Would there be animals? Snakes? Would I be winded? Fall and bruised? Scratched by prickers? But we hiked. In fact, I even carried Miles in the backpack carrier at times...which I sincerely miss those days.
Even while building, the boys would come up and want to play on the butte. The neighbor kids would come over and they'd climb around the rocks for hours. I'd sit and watch them, thinking...this. THIS. is what it's all about. No greater joy than sitting on a boulder on the side of our butte, watching the boys play...creating, exploring, pretending. Enjoying nature...which I feel is heaven overlapping earth. Laughing with their friends. Sun shining. Breeze blowing. This... My heart could explode.
I remember growing up with acreage and woods myself. Even a creek. We spent so many days running around outside. Finding ways to play, things to do. My dad left the property to Joyce, and some day when she goes to be with him, the property will be left to my brothers and I. The woods we built forts in. The sledding hill. The trails we walked countless times. The rope swings. The carved tree bark. Memories...so many memories... Those woods know our innocence of playing hide & seek. Our tears of ended relationships. Our voices of anger, hope, despair, and laughter. Our first kisses. Our fears. Our secrets. Our faith. Those woods hold a piece of my soul that no other place has...till now.
I look at our kids playing on these rocks with their friends and tears roll. Their memories are beginning. Such a blessing. Another generation of memories unfolds before my eyes. I imagine how my dad must have felt, watching us play on those rolling acres. I see these kids playing and feel gratitude that runs deep and strong. It fills me up. Shane and I steal a glance, our eyes in unison with emotion...this is it. This is what we're here for.
After a very busy start to the year (and a few bugs that knocked me down), I finally feel like we're getting settled. There are still countless projects to complete...but, we're here. We're functioning. We're comfortable.
My body cannot get enough sleep these days. I could go to sleep with the boys every night. I feel like I'm catching up on a years worth of discomfort. And gearing up for what's next.
I walked the butte trail by myself twice last weekend. I've only been up there solo a few times. The dirt is still new. Our digs...still new. What will this land and this home feel like in 30 years? What secrets will this hill know? What tears will these rocks swallow? What tales will be told?
I noticed the discomfort I first had hiking the butte alone has settled some. I have more peace. The dirt is becoming familiar. The air, the smells, the sounds. I know the turns. I know the journey. There is peace in knowing.
God calls us to uncharted territory all the time. Every day seems like a new turn. So many people we know faced with challenges I'll never understand. I reassure myself...its part of life to be challenged. We each have our own. No one escapes. We are all driven to be renewed in faith. Pushed to rely on Him.
But its always good to have comfort, isn't it? That when we are pushed to our limits, we have comfort to fall back on? Familiarity. Assurance. Hope. Dirt and digs that flood our minds with memories.
Last year was one uncertainty after another. With a big dollop of grief on top. I found little comfort. I spent a lot days away from my husband while he worked in Ohio. Many days in tears, grieving my dad. But the blessings flowed. Life went on. Familiarity. Assurance. Hope....all found in God. In family. In the comfort of knowing my dad is not gone forever...but just a numbered amount of days away.
I reflect on this journey. Uncertain of what lies ahead. Growing comfortable in our new space. On our new dirt. The balance...of filling up our souls in these comforts, while still reaching for the unknown. Thankful for the place we call 'home', yet seeking ways we can still serve and stretch ourselves and faith.
May we all find the comfort we need in Him. No matter where we are, what we're faced with, who we're with. Let Him be our familiar. Let His love linger long in our days.