Let's Never Do that Again

My husband turned to me with the look of a man who is talked down off the edge because it would be too tiring to jump, and that man who I pledged to hold to in good, bad, and worse muttered the phrase, "Let's never do that again."

Rewind 34 hours.

I just said goodbye to my world. The ecstatic high of speaking at our church's women's retreat, being surrounded by friends and relations I'd known for years, was followed up by the dramatic low of packing everything I owned into a truck, realizing the truck had no address to go to, selling our house, and sleeping on couches for a couple nights. And then we had to say goodbyes.

The worst was saying goodbye to my sister-in-law. It took us forever to become friends. (That would be my fault. I am not conducive to be-friendings.) Now, I could call her at any time and know she would have the wisdom, the optimism, and the vicious bite I needed when in the throes of almost taking something on this planet seriously. I don't hold tightly to people. Some may see it as callousness, but it's my personality. I want folk to be useful. I want them to risk and choose and make a difference. I want people to serve a purpose, not my purpose, but a purpose. When they don't, they drift away, and I can't muster the hootzbah to reel them back in. But I wept leaving my sister-in-law. Because she is purpose, passion, and courage incarnate. In a world where I find it easier to grow enormous beanstalks and slay giants than to befriend another woman, she took up the adventure beside me.

And then the worst was saying goodbye to my wing girl. And I just want to ask why we all say we need a Goose? He dies people. So, I'll fall on that sword: I needed a Maverick. I was Goose, and I needed the star of the show to find value in me. I needed a woman who had big ideas, and wanted to do things, and blamed her drunk dead German ancestors every time she cried (which was right up along the lines of never. That's a girl I can get behind). Read the blog. I don't need to re-write it here. She's awesome. All that nice, but slightly untrue stuff she said about me (and really, Miss Pastor's Wife, we're going to lie in writing for all the world to see? bad form), I believe that about her, but for real. And we had to say goodbye. I didn't cry. But it's only because my dead German ancestors were sobered up by too much coffee and a swift slap in the face.

And then the worst was saying goodbye to my dog. He climbed into Grandma and Grandpa's car and sat there with that big stupid grin on his face, and I wept. He's obnoxious. But apparently I love him.

And then the worst was saying goodbye to our parents. My dad just held my son. He held him while everyone else was hugging, crying, and goodbye-ing. He didn't cry. And he didn't let him go. My mom just kept telling me it would all work out, that it would be alright. Because she has had to be courageous for years. She has had to hold people up unseen, but vibrantly beautiful. She wanted to make it well. And in my spirit I believe her, but my heart was broken.

Still puffy, we closed on our house and got on the road, hoping to reach Texas by dinnertime the next day. The kids had never been in the car for more than forty-five minutes in a spurt. We were now going to drive them 23 hours across country. What could go wrong?

Our last Sunday at our church I sang a song, "It Is Well." This has been the lesson of the last years. Mountains thrown into the sea, oceans broken for us, through it all it is well.

And I believed this, right up until I locked the keys in the trunk.

And we called the lock smith three times, and upon the third call they declared they had never heard of us before, so we called another locksmith, and we got back on the road three hours later.

And the bored cops in New Mexico pulled us over, despite the fact that we were the only people on the road and driving quite conservatively for the abandoned middle of the desert.

And the AC went out. At 2:00 in the afternoon. In New Mexico.

And we got lost. My fault. Directionally-challenged.

And we got pulled over again in the middle of Podunk, Texas at 2:30 in the morning, for going 76 in a 70 mile per hour zone. And as my husband desperately pleaded our case to the police officer, indicating his sleeping children in the back, the upside down map in his wife's hands, and the lack of coffee in his system, the officer felt himself a right good chap to let us off with a warning. But he didn't help us figure out where we are. He just left us there.

And we got lost in our soon-to-be home town. And we stopped to ask a guy outside a gas station. Who was either new to town himself or high. I'm going with high due to the massive donut in his hand.

And when we got to our hotel room there was one full size bed for all of us, so we made a nest of pillows and blankets for Noah on the floor. Because there's nothing like rewarding your child for being a traveling stud like a warm snuggly floor. They found a crib for Hannah, which we wedged between the desk and the bed.

As we peeled our contacts off our eyes, and collapsed into bed at a time when I would normally be getting up, my husband uttered the phrase, "Let's never do that again."

The next morning, I found this crumbled in the bottom of my backpack. I had scrawled it out at work. For no rational reason. Nothing was wrong at the time. I was just ruminating on the phrase. So after the voyage from hell, I read these words:

It is well.

Satisfied. Peaceful.

I am saved, assured, always and forever, my sin removed as far as the east is from the west, by the blood of my King, I am saved. It is well; because I have assurance.

God is good. Whatever darkness comes, whatever tragedy, pain, loss, grief, temptation, or sin, God is good. It is well; because He is good and creates goodness.

God is sovereign. He is on the throne. It is well because there is one Power who holds sway in my life, and It is a power of passionate affection. He is never inattentive, or unloving. It is well; because of who He is.

God provides. Whatever we need, He provides. Courage, counsel, grace, peace, joy, time, energy, family, friends, faith, finances. It is well because He delights to give when we need.

We can hope perfectly. I am a daughter of the King. I am promised an inheritance, an eternity in glory, an eternity of glory. It is well; because heaven is not far off.

Because I choose for it to be well. I choose to believe that my God is bigger, stronger, greater, better, more loving, kinder, more powerful, more in control, more than more of everything I hope in. It is well because I can make a choice, and I choose to be satisfied in Christ.