South of the Mason Dixon

Have I ever mentioned that I do all my writing on a smart phone?

One tiny little screen. No spellcheck.  No clear visual.  No great ability to backspace or delete.  

I've officially set myself up a bit of an office space.  It's for the whole family really, but how much easier to access things you would like to view...  I can shut the door and write in private.  I can backspace to my heart's content.  Delete whole paragraphs with just a few clicks.  It's amazing, and permanent, which helps guide me to a space and place of writing more often, which in turn is fulfilling.  Right now I am thinking about going downstairs for a cup of coffee to complete the scenario but I believe I should hold off on that.

Tomorrow is the first day of a new school year and my kids are feeling anxious.  No one is quite ready and honestly, I am not quite ready either.  The next several weeks are going to be busy, full of good things, but tiring, nonetheless.  I feel like this summer, unlike most, flew by.  I am often ready for the fall season and barely give the passing of summer a nod, but this year, I'm a little depressed.  

It is safe to say that I have firmly established a place in the northeast.  With each passing year, roots have spread and gained good ground, but they are not deep enough yet to keep me from casting a wandering eye toward other places.  South.  My heart seems like it was always meant to be there. Somewhere south of the Mason Dixon line there lies a space for plants, deep green grass, big trees, a big porch with a swing, and a kitchen that smells like pumpkin pie and coffee. I'm sitting in that kitchen and writing a letter to you, dear friend. It would go something like this..

Dear (insert your name here),

It truly is amazing that I am sitting in this place today. I  have been dreaming of it my whole life.  I do not regret the years leading to this moment for they have been full of life, full of people that grow older and dearer in my soul, and full of learning.  I am much wiser today than when I started out on this journey of ten million steps that led to none of the spaces I entered into the itinerary.  How can you enter something and go to the opposite place?  It's still a mystery to me but that God alone orchestrates my life.  I hope to tell my children the stories one day. I hope to explain to them how a man  (or woman) can set about something and the end result will look so much different and more beautiful than anticipated. I would not have traveled to Utah.  I would not have sent a husband to war.  I would not have denied myself the opportunity to become a nurse. I would not have had miserable pregnancies that, in essence, shortened the family I planned.  I would not have moved to New York.  I would not have put up with being treated poorly at work, always feeling for some reason that I needed to stay.  I would not have denied myself the job opportunity I so desired. I would not have ended up back at the same job.

Oh, dear one, I set out to conquer the world.  I was going to be a nurse, married with 3-4 children, living in northeast Ohio, but with my eye on the south. I was going to eat Sunday dinner with my family each week.  I was going to have game nights with my siblings and my kids were going to thrive in the network of family.  I was going to be successful at all the things I put my hands to doing.

You know what?  None of my plans included writing.  It was never a dream to dust off or an ambition to pursue.  Writing was borne out of the deep and dark loneliness that I encountered in Eagle Mountain.  It was a way to reach out and communicate with others not living right outside my door.  It brought me immeasurable relief to tell the stories of my life.  I didn't have to know someone was listening, I just had to know that it was going out somewhere.  Writing has proven to be a passion I didn't know I wanted or needed and that came to me so gently through the unfolding of the plan.

It's just like my Jesus to allow me the opportunity to have a wonderful job, a job that was equal to my strengths and surrounded me with people to love and serve.  A job that was refreshing when I needed it and a job that ultimately brought healing to my heart.  At this job, I came face to face with my enemies, the people that I swore to hate with every fiber of my being but prayed to be able to love and forgive.  Can you imagine seeing the person that you despised every day?  A person who hurt you so deeply?    Imagine a moment so divinely orchestrated that you could look them in the eye, offer your hand and your heart for a second time, and show them the love they do not deserve, but need.  I didn't think it was possible, but Jesus gave me a gift.  He gave me a temporary job that might just have been for this specific purpose alone, for he completely closed the door for the job to continue, although it was originally planned that it would. He saw my pain, He heard my prayers, and He formed a plan to heal my heart. I still think of the pain of being turned into CPS, but it does no hurt nearly in the way it once did.  Not nearly the same and all because I took a temporary job.  Strange, isn't it?  But it's just the thing I am going to tell these boys of mine, it's just like Jesus, sons, you can trust that He will answer and it almost never is like what you are expecting.  Keep that in mind when you heart is full of sorrow. 

I do go on so, this letter is quite long by now,  but there lies so much evidence of God in my years and it feels good to tell you.  I know you will understand for we have been friends for quite some time.  My ability to chatter endlessly certainly doesn't surprise you and you always graciously say how much you enjoy listening.  It's probably not at all true but I am thankful you indulge me.  

I'm sitting in this kitchen years later than I anticipated. In retrospect, my sphere of influence has been far greater than I could have imagined. My heart has known such change, joy, service, honor, fullness.  God has given me far more than I was willing to reach.  I would have kept myself in a tight, confined space and He opened up the world to a chubby, short, blue eyed girl from the Midwest.

I better close for now.  It must be time to start frying the chicken to go with this here pie.  I sure do miss seeing your face.  Come for a visit.  There is always a place for you with me.  We'll talk about the hard things and then we'll look for the places that God shines His light.  We know we're getting older and the grey hairs are coming, but this journey continues to be joyous, and full of surprises.

Lovingly Yours,

Ang