65 days of clouds

Here are some raw thoughts from my journal during my recent visit to Denver...

January 29, 2009
"I am sitting in a blue, maybe it's green, vinyl chair in concourse A at Midway International Airport. I'm flying non-stop to the Mile High City - Denver. Today I'm flying to a place I may call home very soon and I can't help but feel that God has orchestrated this entire thing. If I didn't believe in God, I would most definitely admit that it seems some force is behind it. But I do believe in God and I know that He has His hands on the puppet strings of my life.

Interrupted from a call from my sister, I am now crossing over the prairie land of America, if I knew my geography better I would know which state - maybe still Illinois or Iowa. I see fields and long county roads, a stark difference to the towering, bustling city of Chicago. I am anxious for above freezing temperatures and mountains - oh glorious mountains. I feel it is time for a love affair with the mountains; well me and my bear bag. Yes I think the majestic Rocky Mountains and I will get along just fine. I am anxious to see them and embrace them, to run, hike, camp and... I say with MUCH hesitation, even ski. I suppose I will need my mountain fix through the snowy months. And while I look head at Boulder, and at my potential future there, I recognize that while I pridefully boast of my 300+ days of sunshine, I am well aware of the 65 cloudy, rainy, gray, bleak days ahead. When I feel very far away from family and miss out on events that don't warrant the pricey flight home. There will be days when I feel surrounded by strangers simply because the longevity of all my friendships can almost be counted in hours...

God is luring me to Colorado with the beauty of His creation that I get to enjoy. He is drawing me in with the promise of sunshine and warmer weather, of which I will take full advantage. See, I am a window-seat, windows open, natural light, front porch-sitting, run and walk-taking kind of girl. There is a simplicity and a divine presence in nature, wildlife, in the mountains that cannot be forged or matched in any man-made form. Not in a Yankee Candle, or a CD of nature sounds. Not in an Imax movie, coffee table book, National Geographic magazine or on Planet Earth. They are all tantalizing, unfulfilling forms of the original Redwoods or Grand Canyon. There is only one Mt. Everest, Victoria Falls and Rocky Mountains... and nothing compares.

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Post-storm

Oh dear...

It has been a month since I've written in here, I feel like I have lost touch with an old friend and much has happened. If this were an actual event and not just a metaphor, my old friend would be stunned and shocked with the pace at which my life is changing. It seems since my last post my life has gone from going in one direction, to doing a Michigan turn and going the opposite direction. I was searching to settle down in Grand Rapids, work full-time, find a ministry to get involved in, find a cozy corner to decorate and live in... but instead... I am moving 1,000 miles away to Denver Colorado. Wow... yeah I know.

When I am in the midst of a lot of change or when a lot is going on, you'd think that's when my journaling would increase, instead I can't write something until I have my thoughts formulated and I can't formulate my thoughts in the midst of the storm, it's only post-storm that I sit, reflect, gather my thoughts that are scattered all over the beach and leisurely record them as I sift through and figure out what is worth keeping. The same principle is applied to blogging, it is overwhelming to me to blog/write/reflect in the middle of it. However, the longer I wait after the storm... it is almost equally as overwhelming to "update" my life.

I'm moving.
Away, far away.
With no return ticket in hand, no idea if I'll ever live in West Michigan again.
I'm leaving my church (heart drops immedietly as I type this).
God is faithful, and has provided everything I need.
I feel more alive now that I have in a long time. I am leaving the comfort zone of my home and venturing out, with no guarantees or promises. It's an adventure where I'll meet new people, make new friends, have new experiences, do crazy things like down-hill skiing. And I do it all not for the sake of money, not to run away from the Michigan economy (to be honest I feel guilty, as though I am abandoning my home), not for the sake of adventure, but because I feel God is leading me on this path to Denver.

Through all this, I am discovering a new level of surrender and faith that is required to make such a move. On March 2nd, I'm packing as much stuff as I can into my '97 Grand Prix, I will cry until I reach South Haven, and then I will start to allow my past to be my past and to look ahead to the future... whatever that holds.

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