September 23, 2010

How Loud The Music Is

The other night while I was packing I was marvelled at what it felt like when I knew I had to move out here. I remember the conversation with Mindy on an afternoon in July that went something like, “why don’t you?” and then my realization that I absolutely had to take my life in my hands and take care of the kids. I had nothing. Well – everything (God and mom and healthy kids), but nothing tangible. No plan, no roots anymore. I remember it literally felt like God reached into my guts and yanked. He told me where to be. He told me where my plan was and I had to trust Him. When I knew I wanted to move, I HAD TO. Nothing would have held me back. It was like a magnet out here and I knew that, despite not knowing what God had planned for me in South Dakota, he wanted me and those kids HERE. So I let go and let Him make the way.

And so I loaded that UHaul alone one night, put the 3 kids in the truck and drove west – with God pulling me the whole way. God made the job for me and gave me the friends who allowed us to stay with them while we got settled.

It was kind of like hearing a soft noise in the distance… God was always there, like a melody playing in my life – but in a quieter way. Then I drove west and as I cranked the radio up loud and watched the corn and the wind turbines pass the windows, the music got louder. Little stops in Minnesota and crossing the Mississippi River and it was louder yet. Then I drove into Da Plains and I could hear Him singing louder than ever, putting his song right into my heart.

It does not surprise me one single little bit that Bryon was here all along. He feels like such a reward to me and I am so, so blessed by him.

It does not surprise me how in love I am with this place that I live, how I can breathe better out here. How seeing the rolling hills, the plains, the corn and beans and rolled hay, and the wind turbines actually makes my heart beat faster. I love how loud the music is.

1 comment:

  1. I want to hear that. I'm listening....

    ReplyDelete