Closing Doors

As if I needed further proof that Christ knows better than I do, his fingerprints have been all over my career path. Literally two days before my mom passed away, a job opportunity fell through which I had been pursuing for months and was virtually a done deal. I am now incredibly grateful for the day that I was able to pack my bags and go home to be with my Dad without worrying about a return date. For weeks I wrestled with the decision about whether to move back to Alpharetta for good, or return to Nashville. Ultimately I came back to a conversation my Mom and I had about six months after I moved away. She made me promise that if something happened to her or my Dad I wouldn't move back to care of them. My parents have always been ultra supportive of my adventures, and I knew that she would never want me to move home out of obligation. That conversation gave me permission and freedom. I stayed in Alpharetta for two months, returning to Nashville when I felt like both me and Dad were ready. I came back and my life seemed like a blank canvas. Finding my place in this world without my Mom's guidance has been very difficult. I began to feel a sense of urgency that I never had before. The first thing I did was return to school to work towards finally finishing my degree. Next on my list was employment. I was done just working for a paycheck or a neat title on business cards. God led me back to kids. These kids are different though. They're troubled, or "high risk". I don't look like the majority of the teens that I work with on a daily basis. I do however have something significant in common with a lot them. Many of them come from single parent households. Once kids hear my story or find out that I've also lost a parent, we share a bond. Grief is an isolating emotion, but its also a shared experience. My heart is more resilient from what I've been through. My kids have gone through things in a short 13 years that many people won't experience in a lifetime. I think that my story gives my kids hope. I've never been so sure of anything as I am about the fact that these kids are where my heart lies. As much as we pray for God to open doors for opportunities, the doors that He closes can be just as vital.

Fire

The more I've dwelled on this idea of equating grief with fire, the more I have needed to find out about it. Fire was used symbolically and literally throughout the Bible. Christ manifested Himself as a burning bush to Moses. God is described as an 'all consuming fire'. Fire was required to make sacrifices and offerings. For most of my life I was fearful of fire and viewed it solely as a force of destruction. It has an entirely different meaning to me now. It represents renewal. Reshaping. Refining. I've always loved watching glass blowers. The way that the glass melts and is then manipulated into something entirely different is fascinating. Glass is not maleable until it has come in contact with intense heat. Before the day my mom passed away I would classify my heart as hard. Decisions and choices were only about what I thought would serve me the best. My perspective was finite. Enduring the intense heat and pain that followed in the year after my mom's death softened my heart and my will. Everything that I had to hide behind and continue to distract myself from God's whispering was systematically taken away. With each event I would think, "ok, this is it. My heart can't possibly take anymore." The fire became hotter and melted away the things keeping me from becoming who I was created to be. Forest fires are allowed to burn at times because they allow for new growth later. I'm afraid of who I would be now if I hadn't experienced the fire. I'm so thankful that Jesus loves us enough that He uses evil for good and makes everything new.