Saying goodbye...and saying hello.

With tears of joy in my eyes last night I listened to my roommate tell the story of her proposal. I watched her face light up in ways I've never seen it. A deep, beautiful happiness in her eyes.

Last night laying in bed, with tears of excitement I thought about the future....

With tears of release, I thought about the past....this year. And what it has been to me. I thought about our apartment, our nights of drinking wine, making dinner, American Idol. The walks on the beach, the talks on the green chair.

Margaritas and memories. Laughing and chatting.

I thought about the healing, the growth. I think about how its just the beginning of it all...and I realize....

I have to say goodbye.

I have a month until I move, and I have always been the girl that moves and never looks back. I make changes in my life that look exciting, the next best thing. I wonder if it comes down to my belief that somehow if I just keep moving, my heart, the pain, the fears will never catch up to me. So I move....I move again. I just keep going hoping that someday I will find it...my home. My safety.

But the truth is, this place really has been home for me. It has been home because it has been a place that I have found my heart in. God has used this season, this place as my "healing nest", if you will. He so gently placed me under his wing here, and he protected. He guided, he stretched and moved my heart. The people in this place changed me, affected me.... helped me to learn how to be me.

I loved deeply. I was loved deeply....

l look at the significance of all this in my heart, and begin to tear up as I write this. And I have to admit...I'm really not good at saying goodbye. I never have been. Looking ahead always seems to be more fun and easy than looking back. But I want to, I need to say goodbye well. I may be moving to another "nest", a better fit for the next season of my life, but this home will be deeply missed.

I will miss the nights at the wine bar, talks on the roof....dancing in the living room. I cherished the Sunday morning walks to get coffee. The Saturday afternoons of soaking up sun. Concerts and yoga, cookie dough and country music.

So many memories....

The truth is, in order to say hello to something great, I must first say goodbye to something great.

So I'm ready Lord. I'm in desperate need for you to show me how to actually say goodbye. My home, my heart, my safety is in you....may that be my guide, my compass in this.

Help me to let go....

to hold on....

to say goodbye.

And say hello.......

Daddy's Girl

Watching her at the restaurant it was evidently clear, she worshiped her daddy. Every sentence out her mouth started with daddy. Such an adorable 5 year old. "daddy look how big I am" "daddy, look I'm not making a mess" What she was really saying is "daddy, do you see me? Are you proud of me?" She sat across from him in her little white dress, and it was so clear; She felt special, she was spending time with her daddy. As I watched them sitting at the table together I realized, her father was wrapped up in every word she said. He was laughing with her, encouraging her and affirming what a big girl she was.

At one point she picked up the large bottle of soy sauce on the table and began to tip it towards the corner of her plate where the brown rice lay. Her tiny hands could barely grasp the bottle and as I watched I immediately thought of the bright white dress she was wearing. Would she spill? Can she handle it? This soy sauce would surely stain if even a drop hit the white fabric. But dad in his ever so patient and gentle manner encouraged her even more...."tip it more" he said with confidence "you can do it" the soy sauce episode was a success. She did it. All on her own. She was a big girl. Her eyes lit up as she looked at her daddy who sat there smiling at his daughter. She didn't know yet what a big moment this was for her, that these moments of independence were laying a foundation for her to become a confident, and strong woman. And her daddy, was the witness. He knew what was going on, how she was growing. He knows things she will not know for a long time, and he guides based on what he knows. He guides out of love.

It got me thinking about my father (Not the one here on earth) but the daddy who created me from the heavens. I thought about his love and how I feel like that little girl. I'm constantly picking up the soy sauce of my life. Its big, its unstable in my little hands, it has the potential to stain....but when my father so gently pushes me forward, he asks me to do something that may feel uncomfortable, that may feel unreachable , that surely feels foreign....he does it because he knows. He knows what this moment means for me, he knows what it will mean for my future as I continue to grow. He's not afraid of the stains, he knows they may happen, he actually knows when they will happen. And he's prepared to handle my frustration when I stain my dress....though his heart may be saddened as he watches me mourn over my small stain, he sees the bigger picture, he sees the beautiful white dress I'm growing into, that the one I'm wearing today is just for this season and he loves me where I'm at. He guides because he loves, he allows stains because with every stain I learn and grow more. Its only a small part of the bigger picture of my heart. And he knows my heart. He created it. He loves my heart.

So here we sit, God and me. He sits across the table smiling at me, until the day he takes my hand and says just as this daddy in the restaurant. "Come on, let's go home"

Leave yourself where the light is...

A girl in a dark room. Almost black. A small, square room. There is a door. The door is shut. And at the bottom of the door, that crack between the floor and where the door begins, there is a light. She can see the light shining through that small crack. The crack is large enough to light up the area right near it. There she lays curled up, with her knees tucked into her chest, her arms wrapped around herself, getting as close as she possibly can to that lit up crack at the bottom of the door. She's lying there quietly, her breath slow and deep just staring at the light, trusting that the door will open. Trusting that the light outside of the room is magnificent and bright enough to light up the entire room, her entire world, her entire soul. She's waiting patiently for the door to open. This is the door to freedom. Out there, where the light is, is Freedom.

.....Stay next to it. Don't move from that bit of light in your dark room. Cuddle up next to it, as close and as desperate as you can. Leave yourself where the light is, no matter how faint.