I held high standards for you from the first time someone mentioned your complexity. "It's the best, yet hardest summer you'll experience," everyone said. I pondered that statement a lot, wondering how tears and sacrifice would equal contentment walking away from it all. After over a month of living here, I started to understand.
It's no coincidence that people come here and tribulations follow closely behind. And my story isn't any different.
Before leaving for the summer, I faced the realization that there was a strong possibility my house would sell while I was absent. I half prepared for it as a departed, denial taking place of the other half. It's been months and multiple families have looked and were uninterested. God wouldn't do that while I was gone. It'll be a glorious day when I stop assuming (that's assuming I will, though).
It was about two weeks ago when my mom informed me that by the end of July, the only home I've known would no longer be ours to claim. Not only that, but it would be someone else's two weeks before I would have been home from Colorado, and before I returned to school.
Anger.
Dramatic? Maybe in context. But with experience? A loss.
Sadness.
My parents built that house. It screams Victor Lee.
After the initial feelings passed, I was stumped. My mom offered to fly me home for a few days at the end of July to fully grieve the house and see it one last time. I talked to one of my mentors, stating that God knew I would be here when it would happen. After her pointing out that God also opened the door of opportunity for me to return if I chose, I felt torn.
The days following that conversation included a lot of shrugging of the shoulders when asked what I wanted to do. I knew I needed to pray deeply and ask God what I should do, because I couldn't decide for myself. And He delivered the message, loud and clear.
I sat and was journaling about the pros and cons of leaving. It looked similar to this:
PROS- I could fully grieve, sleep in my room one last time, appreciate the uniqueness of every room, etc.
CONS- I would never be inside my house again, I would see it in the state of emptiness, coming back to Colorado would be harder, etc.
As the ink wrote out those feelings of mine, I felt this sense to stay. Now, have you ever asked God for an answer and you can't tell whether or not it's Him or the voice in your head? That happened and so as I wrote, "I need a sign," the one song I have a strong emotional tie to with God and my dad, rang in my ears. An affirming melody. I then felt this urgency to return to the book of Haggai that mentioned a new house, in which I had stumbled upon the week prior. Random, right? So I did, and the header was, "The Promised Glory of the New House". It read: "'The glory of this present house will be greater than the glory of the former house,' says the Lord Almighty. 'And in this place I will grant peace.'"
Clarity.
What's the meaning of home? Where you're born, where you're currently occupied, "where the heart is" or is it more to give something such a title? I learned to believe it's where you truly grasp all there is to offer in that given location. Estes Park, for example. The mountains, the sunrises and sunsets, the people, the experiences, the atmosphere. It's a blessing to call this place my temporary home. With labeling it that title and accepting the gift that it is, it's natural to want to savor it for as long as possible and not give it away. However, it's not something I want to keep to myself. It's meant to be shared with others. For example, my project group. I love those people! We spend the entire day together once a week, sharing our experiences and engaging together in what we do. Or when my mom will be here, I'm not going to make her stay in the lodge room, isolated. I'm going to introduce her to people, show her places that shape this atmosphere and tell what I've learned. I feel blessed here and I want to bless her.
The same applies to my house (former house). That house has blessed me enormously. My parents blessed me with the childhood of being raised under that roof. I've moved out and am receiving the blessing in other places with other people. According to God, it's time to pass that on to a family who needs that blessing, and the security it has to offer.
"And in this place I will grant peace."
And then some.
