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LIFE UPDATE: ONE HUNDRED DAYS. Late winter, we made a quick pivot to purge 1/3 of what we own, pack the rest into 150 Sterilite bins, and move out of our home because we discovered it was sick … with mold. For years, we thought we were sick, and then we learned one of the causes: our walls were sick, infested, floor to ceiling in some areas with mold. We had no idea.
Because of the remarkable generosity of friends, we’ve spent 100 days in a forced sabbatical of sorts on an island in the Pacific while our house was being torn to the studs (swipe right).
One hundred days of sleeping with the windows open. One hundred days of waking up to the sea and having our toes touch the sand near daily and long nights of restful sleep after reading for hours. One hundred days of wave riding and snorkeling and collecting shells. One hundred days of morning tears over this last season — the hardest of our lives, when we thought we might just get hard-pressed to death. One hundred days of healing (just the start, we think). One hundred days of holding each other at night, whispering about the profound losses that have happened this year, and one hundred days of being reminded by whales breaching and rainbows (sometimes daily) and blooming frangipanis that God has not left us, nor has He forsaken us.
We have faced loss this last year, worse than some of our worst fears: life-altering loss. And also … He brought us to an island in the Pacific for a hundred days to cry, to pray, to journal, and build sand castles and learn to surf and whale watch and ride waves.
Friends, this is our God. Your loss and mine is not the end of your story. I’m finding that the how-in-the-world-is-this-my-life loss is merely a part of carving a larger capacity in each of us … to receive His beauty. To receive Him.
