I've been crying a lot lately. Like a lot. There are pregnancy hormones. (Regular crazy town tears.) There is the fact that Judah is starting Kindergarten. (Mommy tears.) It is August, the most chaotic month of the year for those in Student Development in higher education. (Stress tears.) I spent ten days at the beach and leaving always brings me the same empty feeling I used to struggle with for days after returning from summer camp as a kid. (Boo boo.) But mostly I've been crying a lot because my sister and her husband decided that they are moving with their four children to Wyoming. Today. (Ugly tears.) It may as well be on the other side of the world. These are the tears that hit me unexpectedly at the most inopportune moments, like in the parking lot right before I go into work, just as I'm about to enter Starbucks to order my coffee, and the entire stretch from Lexington to Anderson on the way home from the beach. In my head I know that everything is going to be fine, good. God has prepared a path for them and will provide in surprising and incredible ways. But I still cry. Those kids I love like my own and to say that we can no longer spontaneously meet at the park or the pool or celebrate birthdays together is a radical understatement.
As most life situations do, I've unexpectedly experienced reflections into my own soul, deeper thoughts on my own personal journey.
I have a tattoo on my foot that says "Here am I, Send me" in Hebrew. This comes from Isaiah 6:8 and is the story of Isaiah's beautiful encounter with God and the Heavenly creatures and God's invitation asking, "Who will go? Who will I send?" Without hesitation Isaiah declares that he is ready, "Send me!" Even though I know from reading further that what follows is an experience of hell on earth as Isaiah embraces God's call and invitation, having the willingness of Isaiah has been the desire and cry of my heart ever since I first dove into this story as a young teenager. I want to go absolutely wherever God may lead, do whatever God may ask, sacrifice and risk. I'm not afraid. I won't turn back. In fact, it all sounds very exciting and energizing. I am dauntless. Send me!
I always imagined this zeal and appetite for adventure would lead me to far away places, require me to leave all that is familiar behind, and lead to a magnificent and mysterious life.
Instead my sister is moving to Wyoming. They are leaving all they know for open space, mountains, and rodeos smack dab in the middle of nowhere. They are making sacrifices (the closest MAC makeup store is 4 hours away!) and doing this thing of obedience that is crazy and unknown.
And me, this girl who has always cried, "Here am I! Send me!", I'm staying put in this Midwestern town where I have now officially lived longer than I have ever lived anywhere else. Don't get me wrong. I do not want to move to Wyoming. I'm so not signing up for that, but I never imagined that my craving to do whatever God says would lead me to just stay put.
And that's the thing. That's what I'm supposed to do. This is where I'm supposed to be. My obedience is just to stay where I am. It is continually confirmed to me that I am being sent to stay. I've had to wrap my mind and heart around that because it is not what I have ever imagined for my life. I also never pictured myself having the opportunity to invest in friendships over a long period of time and to be impacted so greatly by these relationships and find such purpose, meaning, fulfillment, and abundance in my daily life and the facets of ministry where God has plopped me and then just gently beckoned me to have the strength to stay put.
"Here am I! Send me!" It's the cry of my heart. I am right here and I'm staying right here. Send me to stay. I'm ready.
"Where you go, I'll go
Where you stay, I'll stay
When you move, I'll move
I will follow you..."
-Chris Tomlin
