Our last day in Bulgaria was the prettiest day of the month. We took the day to clean and pack up. I drug all my things outside to pack because I knew my body needed the vitamin D and the room in the barn where we lived was v dusty.
After I was mostly done packing I decided to take a few minutes to FaceTime my mom. When she answered I could see she was in a hospital room and then without saying a word I watched tears well up in her eyes.
They had been there for days.
I had no clue.
Thousands of miles have a way of shielding reality.
The reality is what I left 10 months ago looks very different than what I’ll come home to in June.
I knew going in I would be giving up time with my grands. Time I would never get back.
Each choice we make, door we walk through, directly and indirectly affects the other parts of our lives.
Ours, but also the people around us.
Taking hold of one thing means letting go of another.
Going on the World Race meant giving up time with my grandparents and forcing them to have to give up time with me, too.
Not going meant walking in disobedience towards the Lord.
Going on the World Race meant sacrificing my timeline.
Not going on the World Race meant that every conversation, healing, salvation I’ve been a part of wouldn’t have happened.
I’ve been on a big obedience kick lately.
Learning what it looks to be obedient in everything.
No matter the cost.
Sometimes the cost aren’t as visible. Sometimes they hit you in the face.
But no matter what, no matter how unclear the path before me is. I will choose to walk through it with confidence.
If there is one thing I’ve learned this year it’s what His faithfulness looks like, how trustworthy He is.
I’ve been feeling the weight of the cost. It’s one thing to know them in our head, it’s another to walk through them daily.
Each step towards Him, towards what He has, means a step away from something else. Away from people, family, comfort, from things I love.
Each step creating more and more of a gap between me and everything else.
But each step into His “follow me here” invitations mean stepping towards His goodness, His heart. Fulfilling His plan. Walking in stride with His Spirit.
Living in remembrance of His faithfulness and all He’s done spurs me on to keep walking in obedience again and again.
Lately my prayer has been for Him to be the solid ground under my feet as I’m walking in a lot of unknown and through situations I can’t actually touch. As much as I believe Him, there can still be so much temptation to want to take hold of things, to pick back up what’s been laid at His feet.
I honestly don’t know if our flesh ever gets stronger, but I do know the posture of our hearts change.
