It’s been over two years since I have written within the borders of this domain. I’ve missed it here. My blog was a home that I took shelter in and built up as I tore down the lies of the enemy and false identity that infertility tried to found. It’s been a refuge for my mind to escape to and express with no bound. You, too, may have visited a time or so and felt the same.
I’ve grown in many ways. I’ve decreased in others. All together, so much to testify.
Reading through some of my previous pieces, I reflect on where I was then. Abandoned but faithful. Exhausted yet keeping up the good fight. Healing but not yet healed.
Awaiting healing and deliverance I didn’t know that I needed. A heart after God’s own heart will find what it’s longing for, and the Father will deposit into it inheritance.
Two years ago, the Holy Spirit spoke “decrease.” Desperate, I relinquished all dreams to Jesus in faith recognizing that surrender was all I had left.
We had pursued Domestic Infant Adoption months before. Instead of walking away with a child, we walked away with more. A truer understanding of love and what being a “brother’s keeper” meant within the triad.
The decision to step away from adoption cascaded a domino of significant events that took place over the course of the next two years.
We had sold our land where we planned to build our “forever” home.
Terry quit his job in the oilfield where he had made a name for himself and climbed the ladder quickly. He thoroughly enjoyed the challenge and the lifestyle that his career in the oilfield brought. However, I was empty in our nest where I dreamed of children and a husband that would rise and fall with me every morning and night. A testimony of what a patient and praying wife can achieve in hope and faith. For five years, I waited for him to hang his hat on the rig and drive his six hours back home to me for the final time. Two years ago, he walked away from production and has never looked back. He is home to stay for good.
We sold our house. The one where we set up our nursery and prepared our hearts for God’s promises. Decrease. In exchange for those dreams, we bought a 100+ year old Acadian cottage at the end of a lane in the middle of a sugarcane farm. A better dream. It was a lot smaller. However, we fit better, and it offered us more. Only two bedrooms and one bath. Plenty enough room for God to move. We renovated it. Painted every wall. Gutted the old to install the new. Terry and I began to relearn each other. We’ve always been opposites that somehow clicked. I was the visionary and he, the task master. Together, him, I and the Holy Spirit, built the foundation of our new future, expectant for what was to come and for what the Father had in store.
(Part Two coming soon)