How?
Eight years of pouring my heart and soul into my business
ended one July afternoon with an email and a phone call. The ending of an era and ushering in of a new
one happened in ten short minutes.
It was done, I was free. Feeling lost, I walked around my house looking around, not sure what to do with myself. With a husband out of the country and the boys at the neighbors, I found myself in a rare moment of quiet. Alone. Unemployed by the doing of my own hands. I felt like a stranger in my own home, uncertain of what you do when you cut the chains that have held you prisoner for so long, what does freedom feel like? What am I supposed to do?
It was done, I was free. Feeling lost, I walked around my house looking around, not sure what to do with myself. With a husband out of the country and the boys at the neighbors, I found myself in a rare moment of quiet. Alone. Unemployed by the doing of my own hands. I felt like a stranger in my own home, uncertain of what you do when you cut the chains that have held you prisoner for so long, what does freedom feel like? What am I supposed to do?
Like riding a bike, I did what I do. I cleaned my house. Left to right, top to bottom, the order
always the same. Familiar rhythms found
their way into the first moments of this new life, birthed only moments earlier. I
started in my bathroom and worked my way around our home fluffing and shining every
surface. Vacuum lines filled the carpets
in every room as things began to take shape before my eyes. Every single lamp in the house was on and the
sun flooded through summer windows. The
candle flickered on the ledge of the bar filling the room with a sweet
fragrance. When the last room was
complete I sat on the couch and admired the work of my hands.
Order had been restored in my home, and the beginnings of
order being restored in my heart had begun its work too.
That evening the boys came home and we ate a simple supper
together on the patio. Slowly the sun
set behind the house casting long shadows over the lawn. The atmosphere felt different that
night. We laughed easy and I felt light
on the inside. Time was spread out
before me like an open field. Dishes
cleared and washed, boys in bed, I sat on my couch wrapped in a heavy blanket
of peace.
I had done it, I had come home. I took the leap of faith and obeyed what I
did not want to obey. I gave up what I
had worked so tirelessly for. I traded
my fears of an unknown future in for trusting that God was my faithful one,
never failing me, not even once. The
numbers made no sense on paper, and only time would unfold the story of
provision so lavish, always on time.
Three years later.
How?
Another season silently takes her place on the stage of my
life, as the old one quietly folds itself up. This time I am greeting my new
post with a soul at rest. A toddler
almost three, two boys in youth, and an energetic second grader. I have words to say and relationships to
build. My spirit is alive and I am
filled with joy.
