I know moving may not seem like a big deal, but there were so many things going on in my life around that time, moving was just one of the things I was facing. Things I don't really feel comfortable blogging about right now (yes, I actually have a few boundaries). The best way that I can say it is, that summer everything that was ever solid and sure in my life over the course of a few months wasn't so sure and solid, and it all led up to a climax on August 18.
I could lie and say, "I look back on that day, and it is such a blessing in my life," but I can't say that just yet. August 18 three years ago was painful. I had spent three days saying goodbye to more people than any heart can take. It was hard to eat because I felt a constant lump in my throat. I still couldn't deal with everything else that had happened much less moving. I had no idea what my reaction would be when we moved. I hoped and prayed I could handle it, but in the back of my mind I didn't believe I could. August 18 three years ago, I was shattered and broken.
Although it was painful, I can't look back and classify that day as a curse. Most of the prayers we had that day are still unanswered, however God has given me blessings through it. Compassion instead of judgement for others going through things, a truer love for my husband, a realization of how precious my family in GA is, and a strength that I never knew was in me.
Since that day, the broken things in the Bible really stand out to me: Gideon's pitchers that were broken to show the light, the vessel the Potter broke in Jeremiah, the bread and fish He broke to feed 5000, the alabaster box that was broken on His feet, and Christ's own body was broken for me.
Although I still don't know how to classify August 18, I do know that August 18 three years ago I was broken and shattered, but today, August 18, I think God is making something beautiful from that brokenness.
