It Doesn’t Have To Be Hard

A year ago today, my life changed dramatically in one moment.  I had already begun the search for a smaller house as we moved from just talking about downsizing to doing it.  This was already a major change for someone who had lived in the same home for twenty years.

For the first time in too long, that morning I had stopped my normally busy activity just to worship my wonderful heavenly Daddy.  In those moments, He dropped into my heart that we were to relocate from North Carolina to Texas in this downsizing.  While there was no doubt about what He revealed, and there was no doubt that I would go, it didn’t stop the tears as I reminded Him of what He had already heard so many times, But I hate Texas!

Over the course of the next nine months (interesting how it coincided with the timing of a natural birth,) besides an amazing European adventure, my shoulder surgery and my husband’s two separate foot surgeries with their accompanying recoveries, we planned and prepared and prepared and planned for the sale of one home and purchase of another, as well as the physical move.  Along the way, our minds were changed.  Just as the child forming in the womb doesn’t change themselves, we didn’t change our own minds.  Jesus did it in us, taking us from sadly obedient to excited about such a major change at this stage of our lives.

More of the Spirit’s change in our hearts became obvious the day we left our comfort zones completely.  The online house hunt had gone on for six weeks with the only positive result being a change in attitude about what we were to expect.  A ten-day house-hunting trip was on the calendar for early November (between Tom’s two foot surgeries), though it looked as though we might be wasting our time.  Looking at the latest online real estate additions that mid-October morning, one immediately attracted my attention.  Enough so that we enlisted the help of our son and the realtor to do an in-person inspection of it the next day.  With our son’s positive report, as well as his accompanying video, we found ourselves on the verge of making an offer to buy – sight unseen.

We got busy about our day, separately, as we awaited the realtor’s call, each dealing with excitement of what we were about to do at the same time hearing inner screams of What are you doing? As I spoke with the Lord about it, wanting to hear only Him, yet feeling like we hadn’t done the needed laborious house hunting, I heard in my spirit so clearly, It doesn’t have to be hard.

It doesn’t have to be hard.  In those words, I found release.  In those words, I was assured we were walking by and with His Spirit, and it was far different from and far better than our norm.  I also knew effort would still be required to complete this moving out and moving in process. I just didn’t need to rely on my own wisdom or understanding to make it happen.

Our house-hunting trip three weeks later was, in fact, a house closing trip.  I’m pretty sure this was Daddy’s plan for us when we made our airline and hotel reservations. 🙂   Instead of exhausting ourselves traveling from one house to another, we had a different type of exhaustion as we arranged for work to be done on our new home before our move.  When I felt myself becoming overwhelmed again by all the details, He lovingly reminded me, It doesn’t have to be hard.  Once again I found release from trying to work it all out myself and went back to doing the one thing I could do right then.  You know, every single detail was handled from beginning to end – not one left out . . . at just the right time.

So, on this one year anniversary of that life-changing day, three months after moving into my new home in a state halfway across the country, I realize His words to me that afternoon were not just to help me through the move.  Instead, they are for my whole life:

It doesn’t have to be hard!

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The Place of His Stillness

Believe it or not, several posts are written and waiting for edits.  I’ve been diligent lately to write when the thoughts come, rather than waiting until it’s lost to a more convenient time.  Why not just edit what I’ve written and put it on the blog? If it were only that easy.

When I began typing each of the posts, I understood what I wanted to share, that which the Lord had revealed to me.  The more I wrote, however, the more I realized how little I understood of what was just beginning to percolate in me.  Christ was revealing different facets of Himself to me, but I couldn’t yet write in a coherent form.  Instead I wrote haphazardly as the thoughts and questions flowed, saving each piece with hopes of bringing it to completion soon.

In the meantime, since Holy Spirit is encouraging me to live from the place of His stillness, I’ll practice as I write – and post.

1 Kings 19:11-12 Amplified  . . . And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire [a sound of gentle stillness and] a still, small voice.

Saddling Up!

As you’ve probably noticed from the tone of most of my posts over the last six months, life has been on the tougher-than-normal side for me.  Several dear people have moved on to heaven, friendship seasons have changed (or, I just accepted that they already changed,) and we had to say goodbye to our beloved dog.  About the time I felt like I was getting my feet back under me, my son and daughter-in-law told us they were moving from a few blocks away to half the nation away.  It is a good opportunity for them, and they really love Texas, though he doesn’t get that from either of his parents. 🙂  Bam!  That quickly, I plummeted back to the depths of grief.

All I could see was loss.  All I could do was wonder what I will be about now that I don’t have family here, especially the three young grandchildren.  But God!

At the beginning of Our special Sunday morning time together, Holy Spirit spoke to my spirit, “Saddle up, Kay!”  Bam!  That quickly, hope was restored.  I was taken back to the morning 19 years ago when we drove away from our Florida home for the last time, heading to North Carolina.  Steven Curtis Chapman was singing The Great Adventure, with these words going deep:

Saddle up your horses.  We’ve got a trail to blaze through the wild blue yonder of God’s amazing grace.  Let’s follow our Leader into the glorious unknown.  This is life like no other.  This is the great adventure.

Now, as all those years ago, a sense of excited anticipation is developing.  Now, as then, I know my Lord Jesus is moving me into what I’ve not seen before for my life, though He’s seen it all along.

Am I through with the tears?  Probably not.  After all, I still love all these deeply.  Yet, with those three words, I suddenly knew my life isn’t over.  There is more He wants to do with me here on earth.  I don’t know what it is, but I know the One Who does.  And I trust Him to take me step by step into a new chapter of His great adventure.

The words of Proverbs 3:5-6 seem to have a more solid footing in my heart than ever before: Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your path.

Bam! That’s life!  That’s Jesus Christ!

No Lesson – Just Life

When I was the mother of one toddler son, my job took me out of town for an unspecified period of time when I left.  I don’t know how my husband and son fared, but I was miserable after more than a week away.  When I was found crying in the bathroom at my temporary work place, the higher-ups decided they could return me to a position that would allow me to live at home, rather than staying in a motel out of town, though my schedule would continue to include twelve hour days.

Family and friends were allowed to wait at the gate for flight arrivals in those days, so my husband and son were there.  Despite the late hour, my son was wide awake when I came through the door into the airport.  His greeting revealed sheer delight at seeing his mom again, and it was reciprocated on my own face!  As if that weren’t enough to erase all the sad tears of my previous days away, as I stood by his crib to say good night, he looked up with a most contented smile.  It’s a smile that continues to beam in my heart whenever I remember that night.

Fast forward to the present.  Last weekend, my husband and I flew to Texas to visit our other son, his wife, and our third grandson.  It was a wonderful trip, allowing for much Nana time, as I did all I could to affix my face and voice permanently into his little three-month-old brain.  As great as those moments with him (and his parents) were, our arrival home was the icing on that cake.

To avoid parking charges, our older son – the one who greeted me that night so long ago – drove us to the airport to drop us off before dawn Friday morning, necessitating a return trip Monday to pick us up.  Unlike in the first story, family and friends now wait in the main concourse of the airport for arriving passengers to emerge from the long corridor of gates where planes deposit their loads.

As we approached the waiting area, I searched for my son who stands taller than most, without success.  When I stepped beyond the security area, however, a distinct and increasing sound was evident above the din of the airport noises.  “Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” This cry of delight was in motion, attached to a precious little boy who grinned from ear to ear as he ran from his father to the people he had apparently missed terribly.

Without focusing on the face or discerning the voice above the din of airport noise, I knew the source of that cry was headed my way.  Down went my backpack and purse so nothing would interfere with my open arms as he came in for a landing, first to Nana, then to Grandpa.  Nearby onlookers chuckled at the exuberant welcome, but my focus was only on the child, my first grandchild, the son of the son who had forever etched his own delighted welcome in my heart so many years ago.  Like father, like son.

No lesson in this post – it’s just a slice of my life.  Hope you enjoyed.