As I write this after having missed my first flight yesterday evening, spending countless tears with my incredible man trying to get this one worked out, nearly giving up, sprinting through LAX, and finally finding my seat on the aircraft, it hits me: this is it. Life as I always dreamed of, as cliche as it sounds, is beginning now.
When I arrive in six short hours, I will be headed to University of the Nations for my first Discipleship Training School with Youth With A Mission. My feet only touched the plane after an eventful and completely wonderful ten days with Jonny and his sweet family. Long distance is a beast, but trips like these make it well worth it.
When your eyes first scan this post, the first few days on this honeymoon with the Lord will be through. Chances are, the rhythm will have been discovered, and I will be dancing along with it.
Currently, I am firmly planted in seat 12B, with fellow passengers soundly sleeping beside me.
Window’s wide open. Clouds look like the sea. Blue, green, orange skies, but the orange that is almost pink. His jacket around my shoulders, drenched in his cologne, reminding me of my second home. Assailing my mind are constant questions, vague condemnations. “Was this right? Even in the frustration, how could I allow that word I prayed I had forgotten how to say slip out? Will six hours feel like six hours, or twelve? Or two? Who will I be at the end of this? How much will have changed? Have I already forgotten my first Love?”
Grace covers all, so no more second guessing. Those words will not be allowed to escape my mouth again. The time will pass second by second, moment by moment, as it always does. I will be who the Lord intends me to be. Nothing will have truly changed, because Christ will still be sovereign. And though in the turmoil I have spent less time with my Beloved than I would have preferred, still, He carried me. Looking back on the summer, on September, I see His holy hand in everything. I see Him using Jonny to help be my stability. I see Him allowing certain stresses for the strength they produced. I see Him removing certain people for the sake of pruning, to produce more and healthier fruit. As I take flight with a happy heart and tired spirit now refreshed, I see His continued faithfulness.
Luggage left in LA. Wake up in a foreign bed at 6AM. Feels like 9AM. No clothes. No shampoo. Sunshine smiles from sweet roommates. Flowers as random welcome gifts (the little things really do mean the most). Breakfast overlooking the sea on one side, volcanoes on the other. Rhythm being found; no, I am being swept into it’s ocean tides. Fast friends from foreign cultures. Separate backgrounds, united purpose.
Bags are returned to me, unpacked, and I begin to feel more settled. Evening goes on. Among Christians numbering over one thousand, we break bread. Laughing as old comrades, we descend the hill to the city for some evening exploration. Night wears on. Feet find their way to what is becoming home. Debating on the couch as sisters, precious hearts are revealed, and the array of rare flowers forming this bouquet starts to bloom. As wind in trees by a river of love, the Holy Spirit whispers into each of our souls. It is beginning. We are each on our own separate paths to discovering His purpose for our lives, and we are blessed enough to be able to watch as He does the same in those around us.
Pictures to come soon, I’m just having trouble uploading them since I forgot the cord back in the 305, in true Serenity fashion 😉