whose waters never fail...

In just five days, the packers will arrive with boxes and paper and tape. Less than a week. Most of our friends have already gone. The cool spring breeze has given way to thick summer heat. There are mice in the pantry. But still, my heart hurts a little when I think of leaving this place. It went so fast, this year, as I knew it would.

There is so much to look forward to and be grateful for. A new home waiting for us in Florida with walls we can paint and a garden we can plant, white sand beaches, a lively historic district with a pier, a splash park, and great restaurants that we don't have to fight traffic to get to, a thriving OCF ministry, three years without deployments -three years without deployments. So much goodness.

So why do I look back? Like an Israelite in the desert begging to go back to Egypt, the only thing I know, I refuse to believe that God has something good for me ahead. This blind following, it's frightening, it hurts sometimes, but He's leading and with my heart I've chosen to follow. Still, my flesh resists.

Then He speaks to me one Sunday morning, quietly, clearly, firmly:
I will guide you always; I will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. (Isaiah 58:11)
Then I remember:
Exactly one year ago today, I was facing a busy month of June full of travel and packing and moving and painful goodbyes, and a spirit that is weak. And I see now where He was taking me! A year of pieces have been added to the puzzle and they fit and the picture is a beautiful mystery. And my heart hurts a little less.

So for four (and maybe a half) of our remaining five days, we will continue to not pack and not dwell on the leaving. We are fishing, swimming, playing, sightseeing and living here. But when those boxes arrive and the pictures come off the walls, I'll be ready. I will trust in a Love that I have only ever known to be unfailing. I'll breathe in, breathe out, and turn my eyes south.