Wednesday, December 4, 2013

When a door closes

The door has officially closed for our family to move to Basque, Spain.  For weeks we have held the news close to us.  We spoke to few and tried to process where we are now.   I would sit down to write an update and instead start reading one of the sixty one posts that became pinpoints on a map for us in this journey.  The pins seemed to stretch out from the safe harbor and lead us to open sea.  Basque, Spain being our destination, 25%, 37%, 63% of the way there.  The mailings, dinners, phone calls and sharing of our hearts.  The Spanish words tapped through out the house.  My favorite one, interruptor de luz.  Light switch= interrupter of the light.  In Spain, I thought, we will not turn off the lights.  The light will just be interrupted until morning.  We spoke at churches, had an amazing banquet, there was even an article in the newspaper.  It is still clipped and pressed between a Basque history book and a Spanish book.  We walked our boys through "I don't want to go", to willingness.  Dreaming and planning.  Funding stayed painfully slow.  Those who gave, gave out of sacrifice and love.  For a long time it seemed we stood before a door cracked open.  And what laid on the other side was something we wanted.  We felt called to.  Called out of fears and doubts to step into something so much bigger than our little family.  

The truth is, we knew God could fling wide the doors.  Many things were talked about to make it work.  Jeff ended with Culpeper Young Life and went back to building.  We went off insurance and I bought probiotics and checked out a book on immunity.  We could have waited longer.  We could have and we would have.  You can almost get comfortable in the quiet place of wait.  You get use to the unknowns.  A red pin stuck in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.  But one night staring at the map of these last two years, how far we have come, where the last push pin rests, we knew it was time.  Phone calls to future bosses and mentors confirmed our hearts.  And we grieved.  It was painful and confusing and humbling.

That same night, I told Jeff that I didn't want our boys to see that this humbling place is the result of taking a big step of faith.  How do we explain to others the many variables that all slowly showed it was time to stop pushing forward.  I had thought  that the next blog post was to be of triumph and visas ordered.  The written account of funding reached and us thrilled to finally go.  It can't be this...this redirecting when we are already out to sea and ready to be on shore. Any shore. 

Last week I took Ian to the lake where I collect supplies for my terrariums.
Ian helps me gather the moss and fern each month.  We love our time together exploring the woods and hills with my cake pan and a small shovel.  Each time he holds the treasured mounds of green life so carefully.  His role to to help me find it and hold the the tin as we move along.  When we get back to van he always looks at the pile in amazement.  Always surprised at what we gathered.  "I helped you again mom."  he pipes, and I answer, "Yes you did!  We did it together."  And then he hands me the tin, heavy with broken earth and moss.  With a big proud grin he hands it over because he knows I will make something beautiful with all of it.  He is okay with his small role and he trusts me to do the rest.

The last time we went I took this picture.  Looking at it, I know our story is not over.  It can't be, we are still out in the middle of the ocean.  But I know what we give to God, even when it is painful and humbling or even down right confusing, He will make something beautiful out of it.  We all play small roles in seeking, gathering, and sharing.  He does the creating.  The making new of what is broken.  And there is something incredibly hopeful in that process.

We would love your continued prayers as we seek what is next for our family.  We are still open to Young Life international placement.  For now, Jeff continues to build and remodel, and our family continues to celebrate the majesty of life, and His unknown plans, here in the middle of the ocean.  If you see us in public ask Jeff not me, I still cry and blubber through the story.  If you have given to Young Life Basque, Spain and have not received an e-mail on giving and receiving options please let me know ( and I will send you information on how to have money returned, redirected, or to simply stay in the YL account until future plans become clear.  I will continue to write and update friends and family through the blog and Jeff will update through e-mail.  Thank you for all the love and support.  We are grateful we are not walking alone.