As I believe we are all innately wired to explore the
vastness of His creation and wonders, the emotions of these journeys are just
as adventurous. As I venture to seek His
breathe from valley floors to towering vistas, from the greatest of seas to the
smallest of meandering streams, I often ramble through a strange series of self
talk that is just as confusing as it is liberating. Whether following blazes down a well-weathered
path or bushwhacking my way to unknown fortunes, the flood of voices press on and
fight for traction in my soul. I inhale
a breath of fresh air glittered with smells of pines, cedars and the morning
bloom. I’m excited to know my cell has no service and is merely a camera to
capture a glimpse of a larger story, all the while I worry if I will need my
cell to call in some imagined horrifying accident. I doubt my own physical ability to achieve
the task at hand, while I’m overcome with joy as my kids fearlessly conquer the
trail and boulders in our path. Even
among the shouts of victory and bliss I play through strange scenarios of survival
and rescue. The laughter is as precious
as the cooling breeze. The questions of
God and life are welcomed just as much as the swashbuckling stick sword fights,
a princess fortress high upon a rock that has weathered storms we can not
fathom, and the embrace that comes when the bravery and excitement of a new adventure
overshadows the abilities of my children and a skinned knee tries to tear the tapestry
of this present joy.
Since leaving Haiti in early March we have been like gypsies
blowing in the wind. This time of
freedom and exploration has flowered rest and peace within our hearts and
minds. From the frost covered valley
floor of Yosemite, to the snow angels of the Eastern Sierras (our Caribbean
skin did not fair too well to the mounds of ice and snow), to the vast and
rolling Atlantic Coast, our family has laughed, cried and explored our way to a
better place. Not that Haiti wasn’t our place;
it is just that no matter the length, every journey has an end; each trail
reaches its peak. With anxious hearts
and clouded minds we obediently exited Haiti to venture an open road with no
ending in site. Whether exploring the
oddities of Joshua Tree with adventurous friends or sitting under the awning of
an RV as smells of coffee, bacon and the spring rain fill the air, our souls
rested in anticipation of what was to come.
Times of painful quiet, wrestling with bi-polar like prayer and the
consultation of those that have lived life ahead of what we can see, we now see
a new sign. A new trailhead waits. And this new trailhead that awaits my family
and I is no different than those wandered before. Of course, the scenery looks different and the
language on our ears has a comforting tone, we have arrived and the voices rain.
Your continued support and prayers have allowed and blessed
our gypsy bandwagon beyond words. We are
forever grateful for the steadfast faith in our family and God’s adventurous call
for our family. From the initial move to
Haiti with nothing more than a few suitcases and a few faithful friends to the
massive mission compounds of Hands and Feet Project, we sought to fully embrace
the tattered Haitian trail. With much
exploration and hardened work behind us, we can joyfully and confidently say we
served well and thank you for journeying with us.
As we have begun to slowly meander down our new trail in the
east we want to share, so that you too may rejoice in the shining splendor of
our new course. With sand between our
toes and the warm, comforting sun shining overhead, we now call Jacksonville
Beach, FL home. I find it interesting to
find myself back in the state for which I was born, but did not hold fast to
any ties. As we begin to settle and
explore the new sites and sounds we are thankful for an interesting sense of
peace and home. With a new position at
Beach Church as the Serve Pastor (aka Missions Pastor) we have a new church
family to embrace and grow with. We
prayerfully seek community, which we so desperately lacked in Haiti, and find
comfort in our family trips to the sea.
These short bike rides to our new sand and shore offer us some sense of
familiarity as we found in Haiti, yet also offer new opportunities for
joy. Moving came with the normal
frustrations, pains and miles of the seemingly endless interstate, but we are
here now and we are well.
So as the journey has begun, those familiar and unsettling
voices begin to stir of doubt, inadequacy and wonder. Am I good enough, qualified enough, will I be
accepted? Have the previous trails hardened my heart beyond what I know? The all too familiar chatter continually
burdens my soul within. However
contorting this inner speech is, I also believe it is liberating and
mending. So as we walk our new shores,
worship in His house and seek new friends, we rejoice in our continued
opportunity to serve Him.
Again, we thank and
value those of you that have faithfully journeyed with us over the past years
of tears and triumphs. And though our
trail is different today we rejoice in knowing our friends will journey with us
regardless of where this new trailhead may lead us.
