Over The River

I plan on piling up my crew for a trip to Grandma's House this afternoon. I love visiting with my Mom.

I want to share with you why I look so forward to this trip. Aside from missing my Mom, wanting some time away and liking long drives - there is something miraculous that God has done in our family. It would take hours to explain everything, so I'll just share a little bit of the miracle today.

This past December my parents had decided that it was time to sell their house. This was the house I grew up in, and I couldn't bear the thought. There were millions of memories attached to that house. From afternoons on the swing set, to Christmas mornings near the fireplace, to my Dad's workshop in the garage . . . the smells, the noises - God was asking me to let it all go. In case you haven't already noticed, I am very sentimental. A move like this seemed absolutely unthinkable. My Mom's couch was the one place I could go to retreat, and just be myself. How could God let that be disappear?

The longer I walk with the Lord, the more I realize that He likes to remove anything in our lives that we depend too heavily on apart from Him. During that cold and dark winter, God was teaching me that He needed to become that comfy couch, and that He held all of my memories from childhood - not some structure made of wood and paint.

I can honestly say that through the packing and moving I felt an immeasurable amount of peace. Oh sure, there were days when my heart felt broken but the peace was a constant. And today I can tell you that there is NO pain when I think about our house being empty and up for sale. That is nothing short of a miracle.

On that very surprising December afternoon, we finished up some last minute touches in the old Gilroy house, and I took my last look around. It was my last peek in, not until the next visit - but for good. I wanted to linger there for hours.

I finally pulled myself away, and I drove to my Mom's new place feeling empty and broken. A place of safety and refuge had been tore down to the ground. God's arms had become my only place of refuge.

It took about ten minutes to drive into Morgan Hill. I quietly pulled in and parked in front of her new house. I tried to put on a smile, but inside I felt lost. In that moment, God ministered to me in the most amazing way. As I opened up the door and stepped into my Mom's new living room - I was astonished. The furniture, the pictures the knickknacks and blanket throws . . . they were all there. Even the smell had somehow transferred. My Mom's chicken and dumplings simmered on the stove, and my favorite couch sat immovable under the front window. I WAS HOME.

I have felt nothing but comfort and peace in my Mom's new place since. God is there nurturing, watching and caring for my Mom and her dog Katie. My Mom doesn't live alone anymore in a house that stirs up pain and regret. Our old house held a lot of good memories, but the painful ones kept us all from being able to really move on.

These days my Mom lives free, sharing space with a King. My visits nowadays are filled with awe and wonder of what Jesus has done.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. ~ Isaiah 43:2

Through that season, God carried me over a river of despair.