Sunday, December 22, 2013

The Lone Tree That Would Not Falter

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.
Proverbs 13:12

I did it--I got through the darkest days of winter, I think to myself, as I peek through the textured blue curtains into the vast darkness outside. The light from my room casts a bright spotlight onto our snow-covered yard and immediately, my eyes lock onto the glittery white flakes streaming from the sky. It's beautiful out there. I'm so glad I'm up early to see this, I muse, as the rest of our family sleeps peacefully on. It's December 22nd, just one day after the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, and I'm grateful that some of the darkest days of winter have passed. My mind and my heart recognize the approaching light of spring and the hope that God brings with each new season.

And here in Alaska, Ken and I are to stay for however long God pleases. It's quite remarkable what the Lord has done in our lives over the course of the past six weeks. On November 13th, my husband received two back-to-back job offers for exciting engineering positions, and then the next day, I received a phone call for a job offer myself, with a well-respected logistics firm. That Friday, Nov. 15th, we both signed job offers and started our new positions. We were beyond excited by these unexpected work opportunities! It was as if God hand-picked these positions for us. And so many wonderful surprises came with our jobs--for example, we work the same weekday hours and commute the 30-minute drive together each way. Likewise, our offices are both downtown, only a five-minute's walk apart from each other. We can meet for lunch or coffee or even just a quick hug and word of affirmation throughout the week. It's so encouraging getting to spend quality time together in the midst of working full-time hours.

Along with the huge praise of securing jobs, Ken and I are now able to move forward in buying our own home. We've budgeted and saved over the past three and a half years of marriage in the hope of having a house someday and our dream is becoming more tangible each day. Looking back, I'm so thankful that we studied Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University together when we were first married. It inspired us to live within our means, save and give generously, and also to remember that "Discipline is remembering what you really want," in the words of Dave Ramsey.

As Ken and I walked through starter homes with our family's Realtor yesterday, I thought back to the first apartment that we shared as a couple. It was a studio--meaning no designated bedroom, about 495 square feet total, and basically, what you saw was what you got. Except of course, for the fact that our queen size bed was hidden in the large closet--it fit perfectly, so that we were able to jump in bed, close the closet doors for privacy, and curl up underneath all of our hanging clothes. How cozy that was! I'm laughing, because I do miss being able to pick out my daily outfit from the comfort of my bed.

Yet in family planning, Ken and I recognize that having a home with actual bedrooms would be much more comfortable for everyone. It's with this desire and many others that we continue to pursue buying our own place. Many of the things that are most important to us in a new home are fairly simple--a good neighborhood that's close to our workplaces and parks (for walking dogs and playing with children), open spaces with great lighting from outside, ideally three bedrooms, a yard outside with a few trees and space for a garden, and room for a dog! In actuality, yesterday, Ken and I may have found the place we want to purchase. It fits all those desires and has a lot of room for "improvement". It was also the most economical option we've come across with those qualifications. I'm a little nervous about the work we'll put in to make it our own but as Ken encourages me, it's also very exciting to make a wise decision financially by fixing it up as funds become available from us working. Rather than buying a house that is 'turn-key' (and much more pricey), we get to use our creative gifts to really make the house our own. That is exciting!

My thoughts circle back to the soft snowfall ushering in the start of increasing daylight. As a child, I was fascinated with the Summer and Winter Solstice. My Grandma would try to remind me of those landmarks each year since it meant so much to me. When she passed away a little more than five years ago, I felt a new-found sense of longing whenever these days neared as I no longer had my Grandma to remind me of them. Now, I mainly think of her and how I look forward to seeing her again one day. And yet this year, there is something at work that I can sense awakening in me with the advent of longer days. It is hope. God has given Ken and me hope that He will navigate us through any and every season--even the darkest. I'm reminded of the towering tree, with its gorgeous gold and yellow leaves, that I'd stare at through the dining room window over much of the fall months. While all the other trees surrounding it, were slowly or quickly stripped of their glorious leaves, this one particular tree would not falter and shed its foliage to the encroaching cold.

One afternoon, while on the phone with my older sister, I shared with her about the one tree that stood alone among the wide open forest of leaf-less trees. To me that tree embodies my resolve to not give up--to not stop trying to make living in Alaska work for us, I told my sister, seemingly on the verge of tears. I believe that God gave me a vision to be here and I think I just need to hold on and be strong, I continued, Just like that tree. 

My sister paused and then painted a picture for me that was quite different. She lovingly pointed out that perhaps instead of that tree 'needing to be strong and holding onto its leaves,' it needed to let go. The lone tree that would not falter was maybe a quite different picture of how God wanted me to surrender my desires, my hopes, my dreams, and my expectations--to let my leaves die and fall to the ground. It is only in dying that we can truly give our desires to God and let Him have his way, she pointed out. My immediate response was a sense of anger and frustration at a God who would want me to experience such pain.

Months later, I am still mulling over those words. The grand tree did finally give up its leaves. Now, as I look out across the horizon, I can't make out exactly which tree it was since it's leafless and covered in snow. Perhaps though, I don't need to find that tree. And I don't need to feel ashamed of having wanted to hold onto my own "leaves" so badly these past few months. God needed to strip me of them, so that in their place, He could craft my story to be even more beautiful than I could have imagined. God sustained me through this season of pruning and I recognize that in these challenges, He was preparing me for whatever is next.

"Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit." John 12:24