This post marks the end of this series. In reflection upon all the
hours spent thinking and writing and photographing and uploading, and
uploading and uploading, what have I learned? For one thing, I've
learned this is a pretty awesome place to live.
There
are ample opportunities for adventure and travel. There is beauty, so
much beauty, in the form of rolling hills and mountain landscapes,
flowing rivers and wildflowers, giant, ancient trees and meandering
country roads and of land being worked by the plow. It is land teeming
with life in all forms. It is rich in history, and so much is
accessible in terms of bringing that history to life. We have access to
rich culture in cities, while peaceably living country life, and can
easily trek to the seashores.
We are living this, and
we're so thankful, yet truth be told, I still desperately miss Alaska.
It is home to me, to my family, in all it's grandeur and quirkiness and
freezingness. Is that even a word?
I chose the
subject for this 31 day blogging challenge, based on the homesickness I
am experiencing. Driving home one day from a swim at Maryville College,
I marveled at the fact it was mid-September, and I was driving home
while windows down and sunshine streaming in dried my hair. For me,
that was incredible, and I began to think about all the other things we
could experience because we are here. As thankfulness began to well up
in my heart, the homesickness lessened. It's difficult to feel wistful
or sad when you concentrate on just giving thanks for the now. It's
been good for me, as I truly have grown to better appreciate the now.
Still I find my mind wandering to the "what next?" and I do not know the
answer to that. You know what? It's ok that I don't know the answer
to that. I know the One who does know the answer to that. He
knows what brought us here. He knows what He's accomplishing in us
here. In short, He knows our path, and somehow that needs to be, and in
fact is, enough.
Just knowing that He knows is enough.
This
month of writing has been good for me, as it's caused me to dwell upon
this every day: there's so much to love here. As much richness as we
enjoy, however, nothing replaces the fact that the things dearest to us,
our family, our deep friendships, those things are thousands and
thousands of miles away. Familiarity. Friendships which have weathered
over a decade. The babies that were born and have been raised up
alongside our own babies. All so far away. It takes years and years to
put down those sort of roots, and we've felt the necessity of leaving
it all behind, for now anyway. How can I reconcile these truths?
Sometimes
what you love is not what is good for you in a certain season.
Sometimes what we need is to be uncomfortable. Sometimes, God calls us
out of the familiarity of Ur, so to speak, and we are called to venture
out of our comfort zones.
"Now the LORD said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you." Genesis 12:1
To ignore the call would be torment to our hearts. There would always be the wondering. "What if?"
So
we chose to answer by stepping out. We won't need to wonder "What
if?" and there is much peace in that. We'll continue to enjoy all that
is here, right now. We'll continue to grow, work on healing that needs
to take place, make new friendships, maintain old friendships, minister
to those He puts in our path, and chart this new course. And all the
while, we'll do our best to keep hearts focused on the Captain, and keep
ears open for His call for what's next. Who knows? Maybe I'll be
writing about that next October.
1 comment:
Sigh...yes. Love you.
P.S. If you use it, it's a word. Freezingness works for me.
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