Moving On. Finally.

It was three and a half years ago that one Sunday Jeremy and I took a drive down some downtown streets and it ended us up on 5th street. We noticed a man and a boy about 7 moving furniture out by themselves. We couldn't help but pull over and see if they needed some help. Jeremy jumped out to see what he could do. I noticed that Jeremy wasn't picking up anything. About 30 min later not moving anything for this man he got back in the car. I was confused. Why didn't you help him? Jeremy said, quietly... I think I did. I listened.

Come to find out, he had been paying payments to a lady for his home and well, she didn't. She lost the home and took his money.

 To be honest with you, growing up most of my life on the farm and in our newer housing addition, I was embarrassed that I had first of all never been down half the streets in my own town, but also had ignored the heart ache that was happening just miles in my own town. You see Jeremy I we were on the only path we knew. The American Dream. We had a home in a great housing addition,  were working hard for us. This moment was redefining for me. I remember sitting in the car thinking. Oh no, what if God calls me to move downtown?

What happened next was an extreme passion to help people like this man. To listen, bring them hope and help bring a renewed spirit to the hopeless. We began building relationships downtown, little by little, and soon enough we even found ourselves switching to a Church downtown. Our whole lives in a short time had been not so focused on the dream we had once thought was the only option for us, but found that bringing hope was a better dream for us.

Three years ago we decided to sell our house. We placed the sign in the yard, and to my immature faith I assumed that overnight the offers would roll in and our new dream to move downtown would be just minutes away. Isn't that always the stories you hear? I was called and before we could put that sign in the yard we had an offer! Year one, year two, and this spring.. year three past. No offers. Not even one.

The battle raged inside me. Why at first did I not want to move there and now it is my hearts desire? We had placed our whole calling on one thing. Our house selling. Just when I would give up someone would call to see the house. Jeremy and I still felt like God was asking us to move. And we wanted to be listen. But how if this house would not sell?


I started reading a book that challenged logical decision vs emotional decision according to what God asks you to do. Point in case. David and Goliath. Not logical, emotional.  I began to see that maybe God wanted us to just move. Today in the economy logical advice would be NEVER do two mortgages. There was a voice in our hearts that said we should. We should GO.

We took a step of faith and made an offer on a beautiful home, on yes, you guessed it. Beloved 5th street. A street I have had the opportunity to pray daily for, over the past 3 years. It has become my hearts desire, and this home is more than anything I could have ever imagined for Jeremy and I to raise our family in. I am amazed at this journey. It has been so painful at times. Wondering if God had been mistaken, was that call for us? Where we to move there?

The day after we received an accepted offer on our new home. We leased our current home for 3 years. It's almost comical to me how one step of faith leads to an open window. The whole time  I was looking for this wide open door of our house selling. It never happened.  But what did happen was greater. I have learned that it takes a mixture of dependence on God and a confidence in his calling big enough just go where he asks even if it requires waiting. I am so glad we did.

We will finally be closing on our new house this Friday. And this long journey of moving downtown will be behind us. But a new journey begins. Our life on 5th street is about to open up new doors, and new windows and we are so excited to see where they will lead us!

Where Does Grace Fall

I have read many heart felt posts about the verdict for Casey Anthony.  I think as Mom's we want justice especially when children are involved. But I tend to think that as we poke aim at this woman for something really we are speculating or guessing or we think we have a gut feeling about.  So often our sense of justice means taking life for life. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth? Don't we always forget to read on.... it gives us more hints to help heal our hurt for our injustice we feel.  For some reason inside us we think that our hearts will mend if someone else pays for an injustice that happened to someone else. The reality is. It does nothing. We only lose another life. I know this is controversial and my opinion will not be accepted by very many, but I do tend to feel that in our need to seek justice we forget why we wanted it in the first place.

We degrade the people who took time out of their lives to sit on the jury stand away from their families who sit and listened to this day in and day out and say they made a wrong choice. We say they had the easy job of terminating another life. Hum. Not so sure I would have been able to with stand being away from my kids, listening to that information, dealing with what they have to deal with for now and forever and now the rest of America criticizing their time, while we sit back and say we have more information and better discernment then them? 

I think we forget that people good or bad all deserve life. If we choose that we are pro life people we  should stand by that for people of all ages. The unborn and mothers that make mistake.  I we believe in Christ's resurrection power then we believe that life for her is the winning solution here, she has a second chance here to relive a legacy for her little girl, to change her choices and to find the Grace she so deserves. The Grace we get every morning. The grace we get when we have "murdered" someones character without knowing the full truth to the story or what really happened.  If this sweet girl's life was taken by her mother well, we know what kind of hell she is living in every day, with the loss of missing her laugh, her dancing feet, seeing her smile, don't we forget that in the systems of life in general there is a "justice" of our own torture that we face. I think that is true for this mom. My fear is that we as the American public have offered her no life beyond this, given her no hope that she can be more than a murderer, and given her no chance at grace. I will be the first to say, I am praying for restoration. I am not praying for justice. I am praying for grace. For someone to offer open arms of love, forgiveness, and support to family that is living in a world that hates them.  I guess I hope that grace falls before justice this time.