Unrecognizable

mirror

2 Timothy 1:7
For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

I look in the mirror and I don’t even recognize the girl in the reflection.  The girl staring back at me has changed so much in the past two years.  

I will never forget the moment that Adrian and I, with a van full of Littles, pulled away from our house in New Prague, Minnesota.  I looked at him, squeezed his hand, and felt so much excitement at what the future would hold.  We had just sold our house, packed everything we owned into two semi truck trailers, and loaded our essentials into our camper.  We began our journey west to Williston, North Dakota.  We were chasing a dream.

I wish that I would have known, then, what I know now.  That this journey… this new job, with all of it’s promises… would require more sacrifice from our family than we could afford to give.  That there would be disappointment upon disappointment in Williston because of the housing market.  I wish that I would have known that we would spend 18 months trying to have a house built that would never be, and that the builder would take all of our money before informing us that he wouldn’t build our home.  I wish that I would have known that we’d find our “dream house,” 6 hours from Adrian’s office, and I would often be left alone with the Littles.  I wish that I would have known that I would have to take on a job, after staying home for the past (almost) 18 years.  I wish that I would have known how desperate I would feel, to go back to the way things were.

I have always felt a sense of pride in being “Beckie – full time wife and stay-home, homeschooling momma.”  I have always loved having Adrian home for dinner (nearly) every night.  I have felt safe, with him sleeping next to me in our bed.  I found security in the basics of what made us a family.  Now I feel like it’s all been turned upside down and shaken.  I don’t know how to navigate this new life. I miss my old life.

The girl in the mirror looks nothing like the girl I remember…and I really miss that girl.

The Lord is changing me…molding me…
I will go where He leads…and I will be the girl He wants me to be. 

Isaiah 48:17
Thus says the Lord, your Redeemer,
The Holy One of Israel:
“I am the Lord your God,
Who teaches you to profit,
Who leads you by the way you should go.”

Advertisements

3 Comments

Filed under Family, Life Lessons, The Journey West

3 responses to “Unrecognizable

  1. Mom

    Tears are pouring down my cheeks. I can barely read what I’m writing. My heart is breaking for my little girl. I would give anything to be able to “fix” it for you, but life doesn’t work that way. All I can do is lift you up to God and ask Him to hold you in His capable hands and show you the plans He has for you and trust that you will follow Him because His plans are perfect, and I can love you unconditionally…always. I love you, my precious girl. ~Mom

    • Renella

      Beckie, sweet girl. I can certainly empathize with you because I too had my moments of despair. Now as I look over the pastures with the mule deer and their running “hops” and the mocking birds and eagles flying around, I can see your dream home and know a strong beautiful woman lives there. I can only hope as you look out of your window and see my house you can take some measure of comfort in knowing that your friend and neighbor thinks the world of you, and I know for a fact, life is better in this world with YOU in it.

  2. Heather

    Praying for your family, Beckie. Sounds like a valley, to be sure, and I trust that the Lord will lead you to still waters, my friend. Hugs!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s