Well, a dose of reality finally hit me today.  I think that although I have missed my husband greatly, having the comfort of friends and family to surround and love on me during this time has had me floating around on a surreal cloud of denial, not willing to admit the cold hard truth that I will be moving 641 miles south to a place that I have only stepped foot in for less than 72 hours.

That cloud of denial ended once the smell of cardboard started to invade my home and the goodbyes started coming in quickly from all the special people in our lives.

A good friend from out of town came last week and helped me pack up.  She started when I was at a doctors appointment and when I returned she had so many boxes already packed and bear shelves were staring me down in sadness.  I don't know why this caught me off guard so much... but that is when the inner sting began and I realized that although this was a hard initial act of obedience... it was about to get even harder before it gets easier.  From that time last Thursday until today, I have walked through more emotions than I knew I had.

Moving is hard.  I get that.  I remember feeling the same way when we moved from my childhood hometown to our dream city of Wilmington.  But this time... well it just seems so much more difficult.

Over the past few months I have surrendered my hopes and dreams of what I wanted to "do" to this whole house of ours.  At one time, there was even a hashtag devoted to all of the renovations and goals we had set for this little ranch home of ours.  I walked through for weeks letting my dreams go and giving those over to the Lord saying out loud His promises.  That one day, we would see our dreams of having a home come to pass.

I said goodbye to our Christian school that we had prayed about and literally fought for with all of our financial being to keep our first born in a an environment where she could grow in the things of the Lord and be secure in who she is, while being homeschooled part-time so that she could learn what being a BIG sister really means.  I said goodbye to all of this and once again spoke the words out loud, that God would restore this dream and that He is a much greater Daddy than we could ever be.  He would provide.

I grew and took great pride in a business of redoing furniture.  A gift that I never really knew I had, but found myself loving every minute of it.  I surrendered it once I found out we were moving.  I knew that God was asking me to lay it down for a season.  And it hurt.  I didn't want to give it up, but I once again stated out loud His promises.  One day He would pick it back up when the time was right and it would flow with even more favor than it had before.

And most recently, the stuff.  Over the last 4 days it is almost as if my belongings have grown legs and walked up out of this house of mine.  Wilmington Yard Sales and I have become BFF on Facebook and the girls have grown more and more confused at how many strangers have come to haul off so many things that carry much more than a price tag.  But a memory.  There was the table that I had purchased from a yard sale right out of college that I paid $25 for and struggled to pay that with my new teacher salary.  There was the rug that we began homeschool Kindergarten on and learned how to read while sitting criss cross apple sauce.   There was the blanket chest that we had purchased just two short weeks after our honeymoon.  And so many more.

But out of all this hardness... the thing that wrecks me the most is the people.  I cannot even begin to describe in words how hard this has been to say goodbye to so many people in this town.

When the Lord moved us here just 5 years ago, I remember very clearly standing in the kitchen of our new rental home and crying to Wade about not knowing anyone.  I questioned whether my shy self could ever meet new friends.  I was terrified to drive on the busy roads and what if I got lost?  I was nervous about going to parks by myself and I was even more afraid that I would not "find my place."  What if no one liked me?  I remember all of these fears like they were swirling through my head yesterday.  Looking back, God has proven His mighty power simply by how He has grown me, strengthened me and given me a voice that I didn't know I had.  He is provided me with boldness and grown me spiritually so much that I know without a doubt that I am not the same person I was just 5 years ago.  But through all of that growth, through all of those mistakes of learning my identity and finding my voice, He has given me such incredible friends and community.

Friends who have loved me through all of the hard places.

You loved me through the job losses, the times when I cussed and fell to my knees in discouragement because this life is just REAL hard sometimes.  You loved my children through some of the most difficult seasons we had yet to experience.  When there wasn't groceries, you provided.  When there wasn't Christmas presents, you gave.  When there was no income, you showed up at our doorstep with open hands.  You cooked dinners for this mama when I had babies.  And when my husband left for Tampa.  You have made my girls smile every Sunday when they came to church.  You have spoken beautiful words over their little faces and have given me more journal entries than I can count that one day when they are older, they will read your powerful words and know that God was speaking directly to them.  You visited us with every hospital visit and some of you even helped me celebrate a special 5 year old while her little sister recovered in the pediatric center from a bad case of the flu.  You filled our backyard with every occasion to celebrate our growing family and you supported every business endeavor we have ever attempted.  You shopped our booth when we needed furniture to be cleared out and you hid your tears when we announced we were moving to Florida, simply because you WANTED to be excited for us, despite the real emotion you may have felt.

I cry as I write this.  I just can't write it all.  There is no possible way to put the last 5 years of greatness into a blog that would justify our thankfulness for each person who has been a part of our journey.

The other day, when my friend and I were packing, we took down Wade and I's engagement photo.  It's huge and we paid a ridiculous amount of money for a picture that is too big and shows our every flaw because it's so close up.  But around that over sized picture are words from those that attended our wedding and written in big, bold letters typed in script writing reads the words "The Journey Begins."  I am pretty sure that Wade and I had no clue as to how good, how difficult, how amazing this journey would truly be.  Nor, did we realize how much those very words would take form in two lives that didn't even think of Jesus that much when we decided to "tie the knot."  It's amazing how God has truly prepared a way for us even when we think we can control it.

So... as we begin this new journey and as I navigate through all of the mixed emotions and the sacrifices that I feel come with each new challenge from the Lord, I want to say THANK YOU.  Thank you for loving us the way that you have loved us.  I know there will always be a part of me that will call Wilmington home, no matter where life takes us.

and so... The Journey Begins.  once more.

I am on my second cup of coffee and my fifth chocolate chip muffin.  I always thought that if I were leaving for a deserted island and could only take one thing that it would be caffeine.  This season of living the single life has proven to differ.  let's just hope that when I join my hubs in Tampa that the only wardrobe shopping will be because I need something new, not a bigger waist line. :)

When I was little I spent most of my days at our family barn.  While mom and dad did their thing, us kids put our imagination to good use out in the woods off of a near by horse pasture.  What we created was a home.  It had floors, a mailbox and even an old, rusty wood stove.  I loved it.  Leaving was the hardest part and I always begged my parents for just 5 more minutes of play time.  I remember that as I got older I played there less and less until we no longer spent much time at the "hide away home."  We would drop in every now and then and I would walk back to that section of the woods.  Trees had grown through the floor, the wood stove sank more and more into the mud and pretty soon, our "home" had overgrown into a pile of junk.  It was sad.  And even though my days were spent doing something that I enjoyed better, it was still really hard for me to let go of what was past.  I will always have those memories, but watching it change right before my eyes was hard on my heart.

When I was in 8th grade, my parents decided to build a garage on the left side of our house.  I was so excited when they told me the news.  I had always loved making a home prettier and now we were going to have a real driveway, you know, concrete instead of gravel, that I could ride my bike up and down.  Possibly, I could have a basketball goal, even though I never really liked the sport.  But why not?  We were moving up BIG time.  All of this excitement came to a crashing end once I found out that in order to build the garage, we must cut down the weeping willow trees beside our home.  How could they do that?  Those were the trees that I had spent my childhood days climbing their huge limbs.  Each limb had a different view and if you went really high, the long weeping branches would hide you from everyone around you.  Their big huge roots that stuck out of the ground were where my dog and I would lay together.   His name was Trouble and he was a Lab- St. Bernard mix.  He was gigantic but made to look small when nestled comfortably in those willow roots.  The roots curved around like a fat snake and they were perfect to wrap your body into.  The long branches made awesome fans and feather boas when pretending to be a princess or the Egyptian queen and its leaves were the perfect size to add to my pea soup when cooking from God's nature.  How on earth could my parents erase these precious moments with one day of cutting down these monstrous trees that had spent their whole life forming into something so grand?  But the trees came down, the garage went up and my childhood kept on moving right along.  Pretty soon, I no longer thought about the weeping willows and it was as if the garage had been there all along.

So here we are.   Almost 18 years later and I could write countless books of how many changes and turns my life has taken, especially since making the decision to live for Christ.  But as I write this, I realize that although I have grown from each milestone, it is still very hard for me to cope with change.  I have such strong emotion, such ties to the things, the memories that I love.  My oldest daughter is pretty much my clone as I find my own self frustrated in walking her through the absence of 1 out of 100 stuffed animals that went missing a few weeks ago.  We just get attached to things.

Now, God has me in the waiting room where things are completely unknown.  He is not only asking me to walk away from the things that I love, He is asking me to walk blindly into the things ahead.  This is terribly scary for someone like me, but I am realizing that all along He has been preparing me for a time such as this.  The hideout and the weeping willows are just two of the thousands that He has reminded me of in the last few days.  That when change comes it welcomes excruciating pain within the heart and mind, but it always follows with amazing growth and newness that brings about life to the fullest.

A few weeks ago, I walked through this house and mourned each memory, each mark on the wall and everything I was going to terribly miss.  I had spent so much time in the last two years imagining the walls that would come down, the new flooring that would better our space and the new appliances that would make our kitchen a better home.  Once we realized we were moving to Tampa, I wanted to take a mental picture of every ding, every footprint on the wall and capture every smell and flaw of this whole house that we have spent the last two years making a home.  I cried a lot and Wade was here to endure it.  To walk me through the emotion and to encourage me along the way through this enduring process.

But now he is 662.4 miles away and although FaceTime is a vital necessity to our relationship these days, my emotions come way to often to ring Wade's phone off of the hook, therefore I have been forced to rely on comfort solely from the Lord.  And it's been good.  Hard.  But good.

My house has been extra loud at times and believe me when I say that all hell has tried to come against me in the last few days and it has been anything but easy.  However, I have had an inner peace that comes only from the Lord.   A peace that has allowed me to move forward and push myself to pray more, hand over my feelings in a raw, sometimes un-composed way and spend my quiet time reflecting on how He has been growing me for this very moment all along.

You see, the Lord doesn't just push you out into your destiny without a plan, without preparing you for the journey.  That would be like me pushing my child into the deep end of the pool without giving her any prior swimming lessons.  I just wouldn't do that and neither would the Great Creator.  He has a plan and He has truly gone before us.  He is not going to push me out into deep waters without preparing me beforehand.  Better yet, He helps me to swim when the deep waves get overwhelming.  There are many days that I feel out of control, but I am learning those are the best days.  That He is teaching me to let up my need to control and allow me to come to Him with a clear mind and open hands ready to receive the next steps.  The true example of living day to day without having the NEED for a long term plan.  He is also teaching me to let go.

Over the last few days, I have missed my husband so very much.  But at the same time I have seen His provision while being here "alone."  I have had dinner brought to me by friends, I have had sleep overs full of staying up way too late and I have received countless texts and calls to make sure I am ok.  I am also realizing that with each passing day, the Lord is preparing me to give up the "things" around me and realize that my home is where He leads us.  My home is where we are all united together and when we are in His Will, that is where Life is.

That is what I am after.  To experience LIFE and life to the fullest.  A life that is surrendered and dedicated to my Maker, one that constantly grows, lets go when needed and moves forward until He calls me Home.
My true home.