This year I have debated and considered how many photo's and which ones that captured best each individual thing. The first year I launched this tradition was in 2008. I remember what was on it. The girls that lived in the house at the time, me in California, the picture of BC and I on an elephant in Thailand. The people have been fairly consistent, Matt has been present I think on all of them? I am pretty sure.
Last year I was able to break down and apart what the key things were of the year. All of the faces, places, and moments unspoken in a silent image.
This year.
It's different.
I have selected a template that allows 9 photographs to be chosen. I have already created a file of more then 30 options. I will have more to add to that list in the coming weeks, with Winston Thanksgiving, and the Packers/Giants game with my family.
Right now the card sits temporarily completed. The nine photographs are poignant to this year. Matt, and Mandy are obviously represented. As are my sisters. The Roanoke friends are too.
But what has also made its home in the line up are two photographs of life here. In this place, time, and space.
I just got home from Life Group. We are getting into Exodus with our Sermon Series, and some tender and sensitive spaces in people are starting to come out. I love it. I love hearing about what people have learned. I love hearing people hash out whether they would believe the warnings of the Plagues, or if they would have a hardened heart like Pharoah. I love everything about the conversation, the questions, the dynamic. I love that I'm not the strongest or the weakest. I might just be the most articulate? Probably. I'll take it. I'm growing a ton. Like I leave and I can actually reflect on choices, moments, and life- and everything about it feels. So different.
On my drive home I thought about this christmas card that I tend to get crazily and excitingly obsessed about. I sometimes get wrapped up about how much different, better, or more fun it will be this year compared to last.
Then I think about if there was one image. One picture to sum it all up- what would that picture be? What do I feel takes every nuance, joy, heartache, lesson, and love and presents it the most poignantly.
How lucky am I.
That I make a file to choose a collection of 9, and there are over 30.
How on earth could I pick.
Just.
One.
Then I think about and see this picture. It's one of the series I took for my "I moved" postcard. It was a favorite profile picture on facebook, for a long time.
There are a few things that I love about this picture.
a. Facing forward, while taking a glance back.
b. In front of a house I love. And still own. A house I pray for each day that those living inside would know the same love, safety, and security that I knew my entire residence.
c. I am so. Happy.
My last two weeks in Lexington were really. really. hard. I was heartbroken for memories. For ghosts. For people that are no longer real, and do not exist. I would open boxes that had been taped shut for a year, and I would hurt as their contents were revealed. I even called Mandy asking her to come help me. I couldn't do it. I lost it. And then something happened.
Something shifted. It was quiet. And like the sun rising to great us for the day, it felt like God saying, "I told you I'd come back. I told you I would rise. Again."
And so I learned how to grieve. Truly grieve memories and relationships while simulataneously celebrating such an amazing work done in my heart, life, spirit, and walk with the Lord.
I was happy. In being found broken, and made whole. Again. Each day.
My life in North Carolina is not a stretch from what anyone imagined it would be, or become. I am a social butterfly. I'm joining amazing community. I'm excelling at my job- and am the favorite of the district. Everything has lined up, and continues to live out perfectly. Insanely perfectly. Like almost too perfect, you wait for the other shoe to drop. I was waiting for that shoe- and instead a boy surprised me for my birthday. A very different sort of shoe. It's true. But that shoe, and the many other steps that led me to this place remind me of this girl. That stood with her favorite green shirt. Armed with a camera and her remote clicker to capture a goodbye moment in front of her house.
This year. This picture. Would sum it up.
The sun did rise. God did and continues to show me His grace is never ending, His love unceasing. I waited. And waited. And hurt. And broke apart- that last couple of weeks. I placed myself tenderly and quietly in a bubble. And I celebrated so much friendship I could have busted.
Tonight I sat in a room of new friends. Who might one day feel like family. We are still getting acquainted, and learning the pace of conversation and vulnerability.
But it felt like home.
Just like I felt, knew, and embraced in this picture.
God. He's just so amazing.
I walked into my apartment tonight with the Apple TV still shuffling (to keep Grace company). Remembering the English translation of the song playing, I smiled and reflected on a God that has been in each sunset, and rise of the moon- in every City, and time zone. He has never. Left. Never.
When He felt far away- I would dream, and my words always failed.
I knew. I knew that He was with me.
He, my moon and sun- and every star in the sky, was and is with me.
The English translation of Con Te Partiro:
"When you are far away.
I dream on the horizon, and words fail.
And yes, I know that you are with me.
You, my Moon are here with me.
My Sun, you are here with me."
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