And so begins a new blog.
And a new life for that matter.
This life isn’t the one I would have chosen, but sometimes I think we don’t get to choose, we just hop on and go for the ride. We see where it takes us. Sometimes it takes us exactly where we want to be, and sometimes we cover our eyes from fear of what’s ahead. The ride doesn’t stop though, so it’s up to me to figure out this new path.
My husband has left me. All of you reading this probably know that. Those words still leave me cold inside. They still leave me confused. They are still amazingly hard words to say. We had the life we wanted right there. It felt too good to be true. It was. It felt like all of our hopes and dreams for the fifteen years we spent together were right there, within reach. And then it happened. And here I am. Three months ago my life consisted of being a missionary wife. That included things like living overseas, homeschooling my kids, making meals from scratch, learning a new language and culture, making expat women friends, adjusting to tropical heat…
And then it was gone. In a blink it was gone. I was on a plane with my boys, flying back home. I had left everything behind. Home, the place I have tried to leave for so long, was now the only place in the world I longed for. Home. I longed to see the mountains come into view. I longed to see my sister, my mom, my dad. I longed for the smells, tastes, and sounds that would tell me I was safe, safe to begin mourning, safe to begin navigating my boys precious hearts through the unthinkable, safe to cry, safe to feel. I melted down only once that day, in the moments of attempting to exit the country. I cried then for our lost dreams and then I steeled my resolve and got my boys home.
Since I’ve arrived home we have already celebrated a birthday with my oldest. I watched his pride at being one year older. He’s lost two more teeth. My youngest’s birthday is fast approaching. I watched my nephew turn two. I pondered how I thought I wouldn’t watch him grow up, and there I was, watching him blow out his candles. We celebrated Easter and I planned baskets and activities. Life has felt so normal. Life has felt so abnormal. Life is so surreal.
And tonight, as I think about starting over, I think about how every beginning is beautiful. Every beginning always marks the end of something else. We know that. But this beginning, whether I wanted it or not, is upon me. I want this to be beautiful, even in the grief and sorrow and I believe when I look back on this time, I will see the marks of beauty all over it. God has a plan for my life. He has a plan for the life of my boys. He works in mysterious ways. I don’t believe my new beginning was orchestrated by God, in fact, I believe he weeps alongside me at the destruction of my family and my marriage. This happened because we live in a broken world. This happened because from the beginning of time, God has given us free will. This happened because the lure of some unknown couldn’t keep my husband by my side. And in all of that God is there. He is. THIS is what wakes me in the morning. THIS is what gets me out of bed. THIS is what puts a smile on my face when I see the amazing children HE created and gave to me.
My pain and sadness, my sense of loss, my anger, my questions are all still so present in my life, but so is the peace that passes all understanding and even in the moments of loss, of tears, of anger, of frustration, I want God to be evident and present. I want my children to see God and to understand HIS love for them.
And so it begins.
A new life.
I hope you’ll all join me on this ride. Some days will be better than others, but I can’t wait to see and share with you the beautiful masterpiece God is creating.