Hi, friends! Today you can find my writing over at (in)courage. I hope you join me there to talk about trusting God when it’s difficult.
I should have been thrilled. My husband had just gently told me that he felt called to a new life and ministry, and that it also meant moving across the country to get his education. He had his sights set on Colorado, where I’d spent vacations and family reunions. I adored the beautiful mountain vistas, the trails laden with pine needles, the ice-cold streams, and the dusty rodeos.
But none of that mattered to me. We had bought a home in North Carolina, across the street from our favorite park and lake. We’d been there less than three years, but already made a group of close-knit friends who were in a similar stage in life and seeking after God. We were involved in our church, we knew the ins and outs of our town, and I had a hairstylist that I loved. (It’s so hard to find, ladies.)
We’d had a tough transition from the Midwest to the South, but now that we were settled, I was happy. And I never wanted to go through that kind of challenge again.
That’s why, despite the promise of a purple mountain majesty, I wasn’t thrilled. I was scared. And I’d already announced to my husband that I never wanted to move again.
I was done with big changes, and God knew it. I’d closed a door and hidden my heart behind it, where I could feel comfortable and safe. But God knew that “comfortable and safe” was really code for afraid. It’s just like God to knock on that door I’d firmly shut and challenge me, however gently, to open it.
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