As I sit here on nearly the last day of February, I wondered why I felt so exhausted. Then, I looked back on our month and remembered that it has been one intense month. Thank God it was short.
On January 31, we met with a mortage lender in Tucson and found out what sort of loans we could qualify for, how much would need to be put down, so that we could purchase our first home. What a high! That weekend, I got knocked out with the stomach flu and didn't leave the house for 2 days.
On Tuesday morning, February 5th - we discovered that the cargo trailer my dad purchased for the wedding and my big move to Tucson was gone. Gone? STOLEN. Right from in front of our house. Locked and everthing. GONE.
I couldn't believe it. The best way to describe the feeling felt that morning would be violated. Trespassed upon. Ripped from our grasp. Lost. Alone. Isolated.
That morning, I had read this from Hebrews 12:4: You have not yet struggled to the point of shedding blood.
In the midst of my tears and anguish, I found some shreds of hope as I journaled. Here is what I wrote:
Today, we discovered that our cargo trailer had been stolen.
Frustrating; maddening; scary; disheartening.
We lost stuff: gifts given to us for use in our new home, for our new life together; gifts given in love. [4 place settings of our china; 45-piece set of our 'every day dishes'; the entire Willow Tree nativity]We lost some heirlooms [2 quilts made my great-aunt and great-grandmother; an apron made by my great-grandmother]; some very precious gifts [the ornament Dan used to propose to me].
Things that we won't get back. The good news? The love in which those gifts were given, we have that. We hold that in our hearts. That cannot be taken or stolen from us.
It makes me sad. mad. It makes me loathe this place; compare it to my beloved Iowa. This would never happen there.
The thing is...break-ins happen in Iowa. Would a trailer be stolen out of someone's yard? Probably not. But, is that the point?
I struggle with being here. Only recently have I started to come to peace with putting 'roots' here for a while; to make this place my home. Then, this happens. And I am disheartened. discouraged. ready to throw in the towel.
And I think of today's reading from Heberws:
"Since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, we press on, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith - who endured the cross - scorning its shame - and has been seated at the right hand of God. Let us consider him, and strengthen our feeble knees and weak arms. We have not yet been tried to the point of shedding blood."
I can choose to be disheartened, discouraged, angry and bitter. OR I can look to my Jesus, my Savior, and find a hope beyond this life.
When stuff gets stolen, our sense of security is shaken - shattered. But, God has protected our lives. And, I believe that He has plans for us; He has plans for us IN Tucson. I believe that He can make good out of all circumstances.
So, on this truth and hope, I stand. I have a God who is faithful, merciful, loving, just; He is Redeemer; He makes streams flow in deserts; He makes love bloom and light shine in even the dark and hopeless places. Come, Lord Jesus; reign in this heart.
2 comments:
Reverence despite the hard-timed hardship - atta girl. From the moment I heard of your loss, I thanked God that no harm came to YOU, for as I recall, your heads slept just on the other side of the apartment wall...yikes
"He makes streams flow in deserts"... beautiful thought. Sorry about your recent struggles. To use an overused cliche, it really seems that you are blooming where you've been planting.
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