Four years ago, I left everything.
I sold my house.
I left my church family.
I put physical, more-than-90-miles distance between my family for the first time in our lives.
I ignored the popular choice and left a small group of rising high school senior girls who hated my decision.
I gave away and sold almost all of my belongings.
I left soul-mate friends for strangers.
I packed what was left of my soul, and I moved 800 miles north to a place I’d never been.
Why would I do that?
Don’t think for a millisecond that’s a pat on my back. It isn’t.
It is 100% acknowledgement of God’s grace in my life that allowed me to hear Him and follow.
And what’s ironic?
Four years later, I have it all again.
Not the house, but a home defined by hospitality and occupied with amusing roommates.
Not the career, but a job that brings awe and laughter and the good kind of chaos.
Not the small group, but a continued, deepened love of mentoring and discipleship.
Not the soul-mate friends, but an expanded, confident heart that He’s preparing the way.
And the people I love but left?
They too grew and blossomed and gained even more understanding of this God who speaks and asks us to do things we aren’t so fond of at times. We learned together as we went separate ways. That’s something only God can do.
My heart is full. And it is written.