I invite you to contemplate life with me (and my friend the seagull - he's trying to figure life out too it seems).
I think I'm really always contemplating various aspects of life. It helps me process events that come and go. Today's events, and really many little things from the past few months, are no exception. Many of you know my dad is a pastor, so from my earliest memories I have been a preacher's kid (PK). I have actually really enjoyed the role most of the time. God gave me amazing parents and an amazing church family to grow up in as a PK. I saw God work wonders over and over again in His provisions and blessings for our family and church family. I never really remembering not wanting to be a PK, though I'm sure there were moments.
Fast forward several years to me being an adult PK. Until the past 4-5 months I haven't really thought about how although I am an adult, I'm still a PK. It's a different role than it was growing up, but one that still effects me even though I am not physically present most Sunday's at my dad's church. So when my dad started to sense the Lord leading Him to a new church (in a new state) my world got a little shaken. This wasn't exactly in my plans for us during our time in Scotland. My parents place has been/is "home base" in the US so them changing churches, jobs, houses (twice!), location wasn't part of how I'd pictured things happening when we're an ocean away.
In the midst of dealing with the change I began to see was inevitable as the church pursued him more, I came across this quote that spoke to my heart:
"Life involves change. Change involves loss. Loss involves death of one kind or another."
It was at that point I saw I needed to grieve. Loss and death almost always call for grief of some kind. I found my need weird in many ways. We left the US months ago, we're settled here, we never even lived in the same place as my parents (well, except for the 5 or so weeks before moving here), or went to their church (except for a handful of times when we were visiting). Yet, I grieved various things about their move that was effecting me.
The quote goes on to say: "....the life of the Christian is never about sameness. It's always about change. That's why we must learn to survive and once again thrive when change involves heartbreaking loss. We're being conformed to the image of Christ. When our hearts are hemorrhaging with grief and loss, never forget that Christ binds and compresses them with a nail-scarred hand. Life will never be the same, but I have the invitation from Christ to rise to a new life -- a more compassionate, a wiser life, a more productive life. And, yes, even a better life. Sound impossible? It is without Christ." (both quotes from Beth Moore in Breaking Free)
What helpful words that reminded me I always have a choice when change, loss and grief come. A choice to continue to ask the Lord to conform me to His likeness. That is my heart's desire, so I shouldn't be surprised when heartache comes to get me to that point.
All that to say, God is so good and has bound my broken heart and I am eager for what He will do in and through my parents (and me!) as they take on this new assignment for Him. And also to say, Mom and Dad, congrats on your new house! Thanks for loving me through all of this and not letting my feelings dictate what you needed to do. I love you both and can't wait to see your new home, your new city and meet your new church family!