It's been a while since I have had time to put some thoughts down on this blog, but today is a must remember type of day. If I don't put this in words now, by mid-day tomorrow, and definitely a year from now, it will be forgotten in the busyness of life.
You know how there are statements that just don't seem right when you actually say them out loud? Well today we did the final packing of the house, our furniture was crated away, and everything is in one room in 18 pieces of luggage. We move out tomorrow and move into Jessica's fathers house, in the woods, and then off to orientation in Virginia. So tomorrow we will be storing away the kids' bicycles. So I found the following words coming out of my mouth, "Kids go outside and ride your bikes because it will be the last time you will be able to ride them." It just doesn't seem right that a parent has to say that to their children. There should never be an end to bike riding. That's part of childhood. After the kids rode their hearts out, we went around to 4 houses and said goodbye to all of their friends in the neighborhood. One by one ties were cut. Precious ties that were created while riding bikes together, playing in driveways, jumping on our trampoline, and just plain sitting in the driveway talking about what children talk about. At the end Parker, our oldest at 6 years old, broke down. He is having the hardest time of all of the kids. He is the most aware of what he is giving up. But slowly, tears and sorrow became the beginnings of resentment and bitterness. He said, "Dad, it's hard leaving. This is the last day we will be here. I don't want to leave. This is your fault! You decided to move us and now everyone is so sad. Me, Ally, Jaxson and Avery. This is all your fault." Well, I felt about 2 inches tall at that moment. My heart wanted to say, you're right, this is too hard, why are we doing this and let's just stay. But when things calmed down, we both remembered why we are going and who really decided to move us. Please pray that Satan does not get a foothold and stir up a root of bitterness in Parker's heart.
The tears ended and the kids went to bed. Jessica got home from saying her farewells to her running club friends and we finished packing the rest of the luggage. Around 11:00 pm, after coming in from the garage, I found Jessica in our room crying. I assumed it was from the grief of moving, packing or saying goodbye to her running club friends. But, praise God, she sat me down and showed me about 11 emails that we had received this evening from people all around the country saying that they were praying for us. People we didn't even know. People we had never received anything from before. Not just one, not two, but a whole bunch of emails at JUST THE RIGHT TIME. She was crying because God knew what we needed right when we needed it. Not yesterday or tomorrow, but tonight at our lowest time thus far. As I write this around midnight we just received another one from someone in California.
I tend to think sometimes that God is waiting for us for when we arrive in Virginia or Costa Rica or Peru. But the truth is that He is HERE, and He knows what it is like to leave a wonderful home where things are amazing and just right, to do a task the must be done. He knows. He cares. He is here.
John
You know how there are statements that just don't seem right when you actually say them out loud? Well today we did the final packing of the house, our furniture was crated away, and everything is in one room in 18 pieces of luggage. We move out tomorrow and move into Jessica's fathers house, in the woods, and then off to orientation in Virginia. So tomorrow we will be storing away the kids' bicycles. So I found the following words coming out of my mouth, "Kids go outside and ride your bikes because it will be the last time you will be able to ride them." It just doesn't seem right that a parent has to say that to their children. There should never be an end to bike riding. That's part of childhood. After the kids rode their hearts out, we went around to 4 houses and said goodbye to all of their friends in the neighborhood. One by one ties were cut. Precious ties that were created while riding bikes together, playing in driveways, jumping on our trampoline, and just plain sitting in the driveway talking about what children talk about. At the end Parker, our oldest at 6 years old, broke down. He is having the hardest time of all of the kids. He is the most aware of what he is giving up. But slowly, tears and sorrow became the beginnings of resentment and bitterness. He said, "Dad, it's hard leaving. This is the last day we will be here. I don't want to leave. This is your fault! You decided to move us and now everyone is so sad. Me, Ally, Jaxson and Avery. This is all your fault." Well, I felt about 2 inches tall at that moment. My heart wanted to say, you're right, this is too hard, why are we doing this and let's just stay. But when things calmed down, we both remembered why we are going and who really decided to move us. Please pray that Satan does not get a foothold and stir up a root of bitterness in Parker's heart.
The tears ended and the kids went to bed. Jessica got home from saying her farewells to her running club friends and we finished packing the rest of the luggage. Around 11:00 pm, after coming in from the garage, I found Jessica in our room crying. I assumed it was from the grief of moving, packing or saying goodbye to her running club friends. But, praise God, she sat me down and showed me about 11 emails that we had received this evening from people all around the country saying that they were praying for us. People we didn't even know. People we had never received anything from before. Not just one, not two, but a whole bunch of emails at JUST THE RIGHT TIME. She was crying because God knew what we needed right when we needed it. Not yesterday or tomorrow, but tonight at our lowest time thus far. As I write this around midnight we just received another one from someone in California.
I tend to think sometimes that God is waiting for us for when we arrive in Virginia or Costa Rica or Peru. But the truth is that He is HERE, and He knows what it is like to leave a wonderful home where things are amazing and just right, to do a task the must be done. He knows. He cares. He is here.
John
