18 months ago today we came back to the States. My soul was sad and weary and I did not yet know where we were going or if we were staying.
15 months ago we had a better idea, a refined vision, a calmed heart as we knew where we didn't belong and were ready to tackle the steady climb back.
12 months ago we were embedded in a community, in fellowship with a new body of believers, thankful for a detour that allowed us time and training and companionship, yet still anxious to go and to give and to love, both here and there.
6 months ago the wheels hit the ground as we finally - finally - received our invitation back, and with it the go ahead to travel, to fundraise, to spread the word, and when finances allowed, to go back to our home and our life we had made for ourselves.
3 months ago we didn't leave as planned, but knew where we were going.
2 months ago a door closed. It wasn't the only door, but it was big enough and loud enough and strong enough to throw us off our game, to crush the spirit, to wonder outloud and inside what God was up to and how it would all turn out.
1 month ago we knew Him to still be good and we knew His voice had said and was still saying: "Go."
Today... oh today. I don't remember my life there. We've spent over 7 years working towards something, 2 years living in it, and today I don't remember what it felt like to be hugged by an Irish granny or to read aloud in book club or to laugh with the Thursday morning moms. All I can remember is that He told me to go.
So, ok, Lord. When do we go?
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