"....A hurricane wind ripped through the mountains and shattered the rocks before , but wasn't to be found in the wind; after the wind an earthquake, but wasn't in the earthquake; and after the earthquake fire, but wasn't in the fire; and after the fire a gentle and quiet whisper." (1 Kings 19:11-12, The Message)
I’m moving out in three weeks.
I’m moving out in three weeks.
I woke up this morning with that thought racing through my brain over and over again and tying my stomach in fifteen different knots. I’m ecstatic because in three weeks, I’ll be back in the place that became home to me two years ago. The place that rips a little piece of my heart out every time that I get on a plane and leave it. But on the other hand….it’s three weeks. And this plan to leave still feels insane and impossible. But somehow, against my better judgment and human instinct, I know that it’s going to be alright even though things haven’t come together yet. And I’m really not sure if that’s faith or denial.
I got my driver’s license two weeks ago. That’s right. I’m 21 and just now got my driver’s license. But it’s been a ridiculously interesting two weeks. I drove for the first time in St.Louis a couple days after getting it in a friend’s car, which was a complete and total nightmare because drivers there are crazy and I had both of them in the backseat telling me to go different directions. I almost rolled the van during a trip to Wal-Mart about a week ago after taking a turn too sharp. And yesterday, I drove to the Columbus Airport by myself. Well, kind of by myself. And aside from being very, very proud of myself, that hour and change drive ended up being one of my best experiences with God in a while.
Basically, as you can see here, my mom has been gone for the past few weeks for work. My dad had a rental car, that rental car needed returned, and I was the lucky one that got to drive the family van behind him all the way. We didn’t go on the freeway (Praise Jehovah) but took back roads instead. This wasn’t as completely terrifying as I had thought it would be….eventually. The first five to ten minutes were filled with sheer terror. Somewhere in the process of this, and God doesn’t do this to me often, I felt like I should turn off my radio station that I was listening to, turn on my gospel Pandora station, and something along the lines of, “We both know that the entire time you’re driving, you’re going to be praying that nothing hits you. Why don’t you just set this time aside for me anyway?”
And so I did.
I explained my situation, something that always seems super redundant because God knows everything. But I feel like God appreciates that I’m acknowledging what’s going on and understands what I’m trying to do there. And I told him I was scared. He made me a promise, I had set everything in motion with that promise in motion, and that promise seemed to be fizzling three weeks out. But in the midst of the fizzling, it kept being confirmed over and over again. It’s confusing and exhausting. And I told him that I had given him the situation almost three months ago and that I really did trust him, but my instinct is to worry, and that’s creeping up because we’re getting to the point where believing is insane. And the response went something like this (creative license taken):
“Hey, Becky. Do you know where you’re going?”
“God, I just explained this. I’m confused. I don’t know what you’re doing. Woe is….”
“Stop. No. Like, literally. You’re driving a car. Do you know where you’re going?”
“Okay. Now, do you know the way to the airport?”
“No. That’s why I’m following my Dad.”
“Oh. And he knows how to get to the airport?”
“Well, I’d hope so! I’m following him!”
“Okay, so let me get this straight. He knows that you’re going to the airport and so do you? You both know that you’re heading to the same place, right?”
“But only one of you knows how to get there. Only one of you really knows how to successfully get where you’re going.”
“And you don’t know how to get where you’re going, but do you have any doubt that you’re going to end up there if you follow your dad?”
“Not really, no.”
“So….you and I both know where you’re going. You don’t know how I’m going to get you there, but you’re following me. Why don’t you have the same trust in me? I have my hand on this right now. All of it. You right now, skittishly driving the minivan over country roads, and this whole thing that you asked me to take care of. Just follow me. I know where we’re going.”
This assurance has been constantly on my mind ever since it happened yesterday. Which is helpful, seeing as on the way home, I got some bad news about something that could set back the move. It’s scary, but never impossible. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m following someone who does.