I’m a hard core, get outta my way, doer. To a fault much of the time. I get on board with too many things too quickly, convincing myself that I’m following a path ordained by the one and only God himself. I “do” and keep “doing” and eventually come to terms that it was me who ordained the journey and brought God along for the ride. So often, I’m the one placing God in so many of my ideas vs. listening for His will to be done in my life. My home team people will confirm this with enthusiasm.
This big fat, juicy, complicated move we’re embarking on in SIX days has displayed for me the opposite of my tendency to bring God along for the ride. The past few months have painted a picture of what it looks and feels like to release control and follow. He has shown us with tender and majestic power what it feels like to let Him drive. His navigational skills these past months have been smooth and graceful and quiet and calm. Doors have opened without our pulling. Plans have formed outside of our control. Weather has shifted around our movement. Jobs have been laid out with no lifting of fingers. Family and friends have surrounded us with blessings and hands on deck, both here and there. Trees to call our own await us in mass quantity and much needed serenity. A home beyond our wildest imaginations will welcome us. Every inch and small detail of this journey has quietly formed this complex puzzle that now rests complete. We just had to allow it to take shape around us. And it’s so breathtaking in so many ways.
If I didn’t feel so much love for our 16 years here, leaving wouldn’t feel as peacefully sorrowful as it does. Our pastor, Susie, preached directly to my sobbing self 2 weeks ago when she talked about how joy enters because of how much we gain. The pain of leaving this place and these people is inevitable, but so is the joy of what all four of us have received. When I take my eyes off the pain of what we’re losing and focus them on the blessings God has offered us here, my sadness is transformed to joy. 16 years of Colorado is joy in me. And that can’t be removed. Those blessing will continue overflow, across 1200 miles and back. The cultivation of our Vogelzang brood has taken time and deep deep roots. I rejoice for us in that cultivation. Susie explained that sadness doesn’t sink a person. It’s the effort we spend avoiding the sadness that sinks us. I’m embracing the sadness of leaving the literal sunshine and the people who embody sunshine for me. The gift God has granted me is the overwhelming peace that has come along with my sorrow. I can’t deny it and I can’t stop thanking Him for rooting Himself in this process and gifting us with the joy of this place. He placed us here, He stood by us through the immense highs and deep sea lows and He’s now pointing the way to our next best thing.
Whatever Michigan holds, we all feel confident that it’s going to be sensational and difficult and affirming and right where we’re supposed to be. We will leave Colorado and we will be back. And we’ll carry every piece of her with us as we move on.