Bittersweet and Beautiful.

That's what life is to me these days. Absolutely so full of good times and people I can hardly stand it, but with a twinge of sadness stewing in it all. It's funny really, and not what I expected. To be honest, I truly thought that by this point - staring down the proverbial barrel of the gun of our big move - I thought I would weep for at least a good solid chunk of the day. Not because I am distraught martyr, trudging towards obedience; but simply because that's what I do during the major changes of my life.

Take our wedding for example. I started crying Thursday morning-ish, and wept my way down the aisle and out the door on Saturday afternoon because of the absolute, overwhelming joy of it all. Moving - both from Birmingham and Waco, boo-hooed my way down the interstate. (Don't you know a new husband just LOVED that?!) Maybe it's just me or that sneaky X chromosome, but its just what I do. Cry like a baby, and then put on my big girl panties and jump into whatever comes next. I don't think its because I'm scared or sad, but rather just full (my heart - not the panties. Although that could be the case sometimes, hmm?) Full of memories, gratefulness, hope, and sure, some fear as well. So to not be weeping daily, is a bit weird for me. But hey, June is still several weeks away, right? There's still time. ; )

This past weekend we visited some dear friends of ours in Norman, OK. They took a job at a church there, bought a house, and are planting their lives in a new place. While the boys did this in the new backyard:


The girls did this in the newly beautiful inside:

These guys are life friends for us. There's something about walking through times of transition that just bond you to people - and they are some of those friends for us as we shared our seminary years in Waco. As we pulled away after church on Sunday, the inevitable tears did come, but it was a different kind of cry. Sure, there is the surreal "I might not see you for Jesus knows how long" cloud over each goodbye, but this time I realized my emotion was a spillover of the simple goodness of it all. Norman, their church, their house - it all felt just so right, such a beautiful fit and beginning for our dear friends. It is such a joyful thing to see people you love walking in the confidence of a life lived obediently, and on the brink of our own adventure, I found great hope and assurance in that.

I will always love this picture below, because in it I see the hope and excitement of new beginnings all over our sweaty faces. God is so good to allow us not only these friends, but the chance to step into what He has long been calling us to. It's good for me to look at this and see fellow travelers, following the Lord - lots of small and occasionally big, steps at a time.


This weekend gave me hope in knowing that in each step of the journey, we are not alone; that the very God who calls us is the same God who sustains us with His depths of strength and joy. That although friendships may fade from view, they never disappear, and that taking a leap into the unknown is a risky, but rewarding business.