 |
| The mister and I on our flight to Dallas, Texas. |
Yesterday, the mister and I left Boston.
The whole process of finding movers, packing everything up, and turning in the keys to our little apartment was quite the roller coaster ride for me. It’s difficult saying goodbye to a place you’ve learned to enjoy and a group of people you’d rather not live without. It was especially hard leaving the place I first lived in with the mister.
Six Thirty-Seven Tremont Street was a true gem.
Within its tiny walls, the mister and I grew. We learned what it was like to sleep in the same bed comfortably. (I got several mid-night elbows to the face until we figured out how to navigate our sleeping positions.) We learned how to argue like a married couple, and how to work through conflict in an encouraging way (we are still not perfect, here). In our apartment, we asked each other questions and tried to figure out how to spend our time in a way that’s fruitful, enjoyable, and life-giving. We watched some awesome movies, and a couple of not-so-great TV shows. (ABC’s “Nashville” does not fall into this category.) It was because of our apartment, and our apartment only, that we met Fadi, the owner of the pizza shop next door. Fadi is super cool – and he became our friend instantly.
Although, our little apartment in the big city was not built for tall people (I frequently hit the chandeliers while stretching, folding blankets, or just moving around in weird ways), it felt like home. It was awesome, and I hoped to be there for a little while longer. I cried when we left.
Yesterday, as I was reading on the flight to Dallas, I came across this verse, and it encouraged me.
“Rise up, Balak, and listen! Hear me, son of Zippor. God is not a man, so he does not lie. He is not human, so he does not change his mind. Has he ever spoken and failed to act? Has he ever promised and not carried it through?” (Numbers 23:18-19)
It’s an odd one, I know, but it holds a lot of truth.
You see, God never changes. In a world that is constantly reconsidering its position, God is certain. He is faithful, even when we don’t believe. There is nothing that can alter who he is. He is just, He is love, and He is full of grace. He is slow to anger, and quick to offer us mercy.
He is constant and unwavering. We, on the other hand, are not.
I never thought I would ever live in Boston. In fact, I wanted to settle in Dallas with my family, my church, and my friends. I never thought I would uproot my life, quit my job, sell my car, change my last name, and live in a city that requires public transportation. I, also, never thought I would learn to love it and then, in a matter of a month, have to leave it.
You see, the mister and I were supposed to stay in Boston for three years. That was the plan – and, I would say, we both thought it was certain.
Isn’t that how life goes?
We all make plans. We all set out to ‘conquer the world’ in our unique way. Some of us plan on going to school so that we can add value to the lives of others. Some plan on finding that special someone and settling down. Others of us plan on getting pregnant and starting a family.
The truth is, however, that it may or may not work out.
We end up in a tough situation and can’t go to school. We think we are going to marry a certain person, and then we don’t. We keep trying to have kids, but, for some reason, we can’t.
Things change. Our plans don’t succeed.
Psalm 25:3 reads, “No one whose hope is [in the Lord] will ever be put to shame.”
The world can change, and we can change with it. We can plan to go one way, but then end up going in the opposite direction. Nothing is certain outside of the character and being of God. We can invest all of our time and money into the stock market, and, as we all know, it can crash. We can try our hardest to be the most well-liked person on the face of the planet, but we may commit some party foul and fail at it.
Nothing in this world is sure except for the Lord. He is worthy of our trust and our hope. He is worthy of holding all of the eggs we would naturally place in some other basket. He doesn’t fail. He doesn’t change.
Where are you placing your hope? What happens when your plans fail you? Think about it.
Even though moving back to Texas was a change that the mister and I chose, it’s still a testament to the fact that we don’t know what life holds for us.
On Monday, the mister and I will head to Midland, Texas where he will work and I will begin my studies. The plan is to stay there until the Fall of 2014, and then head back to Boston for 2 years for grad school.
That’s the plan, but I’ll keep you posted.
Lindsey Weatherl 