Fall is kind of an odd time of year for me. I like it. A lot. I like the changing leaves, the cooler weather, the pumpkins, the apples, etc. I like it because it’s kind of “our season.” We fell in like in autumn, we fell in love two autumns later, we got engaged in the fall (even though we were in a place with no seasons—Ecuador) and fall was our first season together as a married couple. Autumn reminds me of how much I love and am loved.
I dislike it. A lot. Fall reminds me of a loss that I still find it hard to accept, hard to wrap my mind around. Much like its name, it reminds of how far I fell in the wake of that loss. At the same time, it reminds me that Jesus continues to pick up the broken pieces and glue them back where they belong.
It’s been ten years since the stillbirth of my nephew. Just typing that sounds so foreign, so weird. Ten years is such a long time for it to still be as painful as it is. When I woke up this morning, my mind immediately went to that phone call, that awful day spent waiting. When I go to sleep tonight, my mind will go to the waiting room where I slept – cold, uncomfortable and cruel. When I wake up tomorrow, my mind will go to the hospital room I waited in for the only time I’d ever lay eyes on him.
What does this have to do with this blog? Our mission? On the surface, nothing. But when I dig a little deeper, I find a connection. I’m always telling people that moving to Chile is not a sacrifice, that following God’s lead to a place I’ve never been is not a sacrifice. Recently I’ve realized that I’m lying, to others and to myself. The sacrifice is in holding back one of the broken pieces. I know this piece is large, and I know it will fill some of the void of the loss I still feel. I’ve always acted like this piece didn’t exist, but the longer we’re married and more I fall in love with Blake the more I know of its existence. The more aware I am of our calling and how difficult these transition years could be, the more I know it has to wait.
I’m thankful that God knows the desires of my heart and that God’s timing is always perfect.
“To everything there is a season, and a time for every matter or purpose under heaven: A time to be born and a time to die…A time to weep and a time to laugh, A time to mourn and a time to dance…”
Ecclesiastes 3:1-2, 4