Big News Part 2
August 16, 2012 § 32 Comments
Such a small and simple word. A word uttered thoughtlessly, millions of times every day in a thousand different tongues. And while the dialect or pronunciation or delivery may differ, the meaning is always the same: Make me understand.
In this post, I told you how afraid and vulnerable and out of control I was feeling. I let you take a small peek at the life I was leaving behind. What I failed to do, was tell you why.
Why would I move 1500 miles away from all that I know and love? Why would I ever *leave my mother? Why do I have such a **potentially unhealthy obsession with lists and details and asterisks?
*There is still room in my suitcase
**I have no answers
photo source: wanderlustandlipstick
- I’m helping plant a church.
Now that you are even more confused than before, allow me to elaborate. You heard me right. I’m moving to plant a church in Columbus. What exactly does that mean? Well, in all honestly, your guess is as good as mine. But in order to try to help make sense of this strange statement, lets start at the beginning, shall we?
Back in May of this year – before laughing.loving.eating was born or even thought of – I went up to Ohio to visit Mr. Levi Loyde, my special someone, and his wonderful family. Ironically, or as I tend to think not so ironically, they are also life long family friends AND it was their church that I attended when I lived in Ohio the first time. It was on this trip that I was asked to seriously and prayerfully consider moving back to Ohio to plant a church in a somewhat rougher area of Columbus.
No building. No pews. No pulpit. No congregation. No lights or sound. No worship team or creative arts department. Nothing whatsoever resembling the modern-day “church”. None. Nada. Zilch. Zip. *Just a handful of God-loving people who desire nothing more than to see the hearts and lives of hurting, broken people (just like you and I) transformed into something beautiful.
And friends, let me just say, I will always love Jesus. I will always love His church. I will always (try) to love His plans. Truly. But in that moment, when my heart started racing a thousand miles a minute and my palms started sweating profusely, I wished I didn’t love so much. Because I never, hear me, nevernevernever wanted to live in Ohio again. EVER.
My faith has never been so challenged. My fears, well they all have a thing or two to say about the idea, too. Usually on a daily, if not hourly basis, I’m reminded of all the things that could go wrong. I think about how I despise winter and adore the sun. I agonize over the fact that I am moving without having a job or steady source of income. I remember how sad and lonely and broken I felt when I lived in Ohio before. I worry that I won’t ever feel “at home”, despite being surrounded by incredible people whom I absolutely adore. I’m tortured by thoughts that are almost too horrific to name, like being unable to bake and cook on a semi-regular basis. I would cease to exist.
The moment the question was poised, in the midst of thinking that I would surly suffocate and die under the crushing weight of all my doubts, my selfishness, my insecurities and each and every one of my greatest fears, something like peace washed over me. Something that spoke louder than all that fear, that is still speaking louder than all the doubt, the confusion, the insecurities. Something like courage and hope and the belief that I am on the right path. Something that calls me, draws me, and moves me like I’ve never experienced before. So I’m going.