A Pilgrimage of Miracles

My daughter and I threw on our swimwear, sprayed on a can of sunscreen, and couldn’t wait to stroll from our condo to the pool. We lazed, arms propped on the infinity edge providing sweeping views of the beach. Straight ahead the sun beamed, glistening on the sand like tiny golden nugget reflections. Beachgoers laughed and frolicked in the surf. I glanced to the right. Dark clouds loomed, a sure promise of a pop-up storm that I predicted would be right on top of us within the quarter-hour. We paddled to the edge and packed up our pool gear. The first drops began to fall just as we reached the condo stairs. Farewell pool day, hello sweatshirts and shorts on the balcony watching the storm roll. Thunder and lightening sizzled through the July sky. Waves crashed and receded with authority as the wind whipped along the shoreline.

This moment became a turning point for the months to come. My husband and I decided to use this tender reprieve from the vacation ‘doings’ to share with our daughter the possibility of a change on the horizon. A move.

I’ve thought of Abram and Sarai often throughout the past five months.

Genesis 12:1, 4-5, “The Lord had said to Abram, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.”… So Abram went, as the Lord had told him; and Lot went with him. Abram was seventy-five years old when he set out from Haran. He took his wife Sarai, his nephew Lot, all the possessions they had accumulated and the people they had acquired in Haran, and they set out for the land of Canaan, and they arrived there.” (NIV)

I have to wonder if Sarai struggled with uncertainty. But uncertainty doesn’t excuse obedience. It requires us to be stretched like Gumby as the Lord pulls us completely out of our comfort zone.

We learned the definitive answer of our move for my husband’s job a few weeks after returning home from our beach trip. As an educator, this was two weeks before I would need to be in the new land to which the Lord was calling us. Two weeks to pack our home of the last eleven years, donate items (because let’s be real… it is shocking the accumulation of stuff when you’re parked for over a decade), schedule, finalize, oh and find a place to live. No sweat.

My husband and I had an all cards on the table conversation about how to proceed. It wasn’t possible to sell and close on our home and buy and close on a new one within the two-week time frame we had. My brain reverted to the stormy beach balcony. I had no idea where the sunny solution was in all this and declared our need for the Lord to provide a housing miracle. “We need a unicorn,” were the last words I said before folding my hand so to speak. I had Gumby’d all I could Gumby and had to step away.

My husband called a colleague in the area where we were moving that happened to have a fully furnished home for sale. It was our unicorn. We were able to stay in this beautiful home, keep it show ready, and not have to endure the stress of moving everything to a rental and then to our permanent home. A testimony of His miraculous goodness and provision.

Primetime hiring for teachers is long gone by late July, but the Lord protected an opportunity for me. I sent a resume and interviewed before we knew the position for my husband was final, and I’ve known no other principal willing to prayerfully hold a position for weeks until I could give a certain answer that this move was a go for our family. A testimony of His miraculous goodness and provision.

Sun rays began slicing through the storm clouds as the Lord lit His plans for us one at a time. But the emotional toll stormed below the surface. So many memories. So many closures ending an era of time. So many unknowns in a new land. New school for our daughter. New jobs. New home. Major life changes with one fell swoop.

Six months later, the dust just settled. Literally. Everything out of storage and moved into our permanent home just before Christmas. An extended period of praying for our home that we trusted the Lord was preparing for us, searching, looking, crying, laughing, crying more, our realtor reminding us that each no was one no closer to a yes, and moments of exhaustion from it all. Yet here and now we rest in a new season in all regards.

What happened to our unicorn house you may wonder? Despite multiple showings, open houses, and talks of offers from August to December, nothing solidified. Until two weeks after we found our permanent home and our offer was accepted. The timeline was on divine appointment.

Sometimes it just doesn’t make sense on paper. Leaving your established homeland and heading for parts unknown. Kingdom sense trumps paper sense every time. We just have to be willing to excuse our need for the proof that our humanity so desperately craves.

Abram and Sarai received new names.

Genesis 17:5, “No longer will you be called Abram; your name will be Abraham, for I have made you a father of many nations.” (NIV)

Genesis 17:15-16, “God also said to Abraham, “As for Sarai your wife, you are no longer to call her Sarai; her name will be Sarah. I will bless her and will surely give you a son by her. I will bless her so that she will be the mother of nations; kings of peoples will come from her.”” (NIV)

After they tried to take matters into their own hands, became impatient and faltered in trust, God blessed them. Held His covenant. Surpassed all understanding. He took them on a pilgrimage of miracles.

And He has taken us on a pilgrimage of miracles. He has stripped away, pruned, provided, redeemed, and I sit reveling. During the times I wanted to take matters into my own hands, became impatient and faltered in trust, God has blessed us. A testimony of His miraculous goodness and provision.

Heavenly Father, thank You for lovingly leading on journeys to new beginnings. Thank You for the steadfastness of family and friends to pray through times that feel like, if not careful, the undertow of circumstance will lend defeat. I praise You for raising up leaders to follow after Your heart and plan. May I simply trust and obey Your will and way. When I’m tired. When I’m weary. When the waves crash. When the sun beams. May I simply trust and obey. Thank You for Your relentless pursuit even when I feel like pulling away. Amen.