As much as we love our cute little farmhouse, leaving Denver wasn’t necessarily easy. We have so many incredible friends (who we consider family) that we had to leave behind and that part was heartbreaking. We’re still in Colorado and we’re only three hours away, but we knew things wouldn’t be the same anymore; we can’t just run down the road for every birthday part or baby dedication or weekend get together.
We grew up a lot while we were in Denver…in a lot of different ways…
We worked hard, got out of debt and discovered the freedom that brought…
We found a church home that we loved and the Lord used it to grow us and challenge in so many ways…
I went on my first missions trip and that changed my worldview forever…
We went on our first missions trip together and learned that poor doesn’t just involve your bank account, but your spirit and mindset, too…
I left the working world to become a stay-at-home wife and mom…
We got to be involved with a huge Christian music festival that sought to make Jesus the headliner. We got to see it through from conception to actualization and we learned more than could be put into words…
We had our first baby…
I was involved in several Bible studies with some amazing women whose knowledge and fervor for the Lord forever changed my life…
We just got to do life with people who walked with us, and allowed us to walk with them, through the nasty storms of life – death, divorce, infertility, debt, unemployment, illness, infidelity…and the beauties, too – restoration, redemption, birth, life, success, marriage, freedom. Our bonds with these people were developed and strengthened and intensified and leaving them was hard. Still is…
Some days, my heart still longs to be there instead of here. There are days when the road is muddy and I need milk and I don’t want to load up two kids and drive 20 miles just to pay $5 for a gallon and then pay $4/gallon for fuel to get back home and then get stuck in the driveway and have to haul two kids and two gallons of milk through muck and mire to get to the front door. Yeah, those days, I wish I were in the city.
Or the days where I just wish I could call up a few friends, whose hearts I know and trust because they’re more like sisters, and we could meet at Starbucks or someone’s home and our kiddies could play while we talk about what the Lord is doing and how we need to adjust our lives accordingly and we don’t have to preface anything or explain anything, they just know and get it and understand. Yeah, those days, I miss Denver.
It’s hard moving somewhere new- especially to a small town, where most people are already established, and have been since birth. While we’ve met some incredible people who’ve been more than good to us out here on the plains, it doesn’t always feel the same. And maybe it won’t…ever.
The days when I start questioning or feeling frustrated or lonely or nostalgic, I have to go back to the summer of 2011 and remember His oh-so evident hand in this and it’s there that I find peace that this IS where we’re supposed to be. That’s one of the beauties of obedience…I have the pleasure of understanding that we know that we know that we know that this IS where the Lord called us to…this IS His doing. We were obedient to His urging and calling so we can stand on that. We did what He asked us to do…
When we obey God, we can trust that He will display His goodness and love to us. And He has. Oh, He has…and will.
Luckily, the Denverites still call and come visit and invite us out and our new friends do the same. One of His blessings, indeed.