what i know for sure

These days, there's a lot I don't know. A lot.

A few years ago, things felt pretty certain. Now... Notsomuch.

In some ways, I feel like I've gotten used to the uncertainties. I've grown accustomed to all the question marks.

But they still suck.

In December I said a final goodbye to my home, my ministry, my job, my everything... For the two years prior to that, I'd already been bouncing between guest rooms, hoping for a very different ending than how things ended up.

It's been a long season of limbo. Transition. Change.

And even the few things I've hazily viewed over the past few months as possibilities for the future... I feel less certain about them now than I did before.

I don't know what's next for me. I don't even know how to start thinking of a next when I spent my entire adult life living my dream. And then it crumbled out from under me. To be honest, I don't even want to start thinking of a next.

Not yet.

I am often asked questions about my current season and what's down the road. The questions come from hearts that care, and that is an invaluable gift to me. I know I am loved and thought of and prayed for by many, and that is unbelievably humbling. I am beyond grateful.

Still, I'm left tired.

It's not the questions I'm tired of. It's that I've grown weary of not having answers.

So let me tell you what I know for sure:


I am living in Southern Oregon with incredible friends. Friends who are family. Friends who are a safe place for my heart to land.

I've unpacked my suitcases. The Hodges had my room amazingly set up just for me -- complete with a closet and a dresser and a desk. And I feel more settled than I have in a long time.

I am trying to give myself permission to just be right now. I've done a lot. And I'm spent. So I'm trying to just give my heart some breathing room for a little while.

Extending myself grace to just be -- to not do, to not feel guilty about not doing, to not worry about what I'll be doing next -- is much easier said than done.

Some days it's hard to simply get out of bed and put my two feet on the floor. Physically. Emotionally. Life feels hard, inside and out, and I'm struggling with my inability to see ahead. At all. But I'm trying to be okay with all my not knowing. Trying.

I am still battling my chronic health issues. But I feel hopeful -- for the first time -- that I might get my very own Dr. House sometime soon. And that makes things a little easier.

I am grateful for my friends and my community (you!) who have walked with me through the past few years. Like I said before, I know I am loved and prayed for. And that's just... Wow.

I feel doubly grateful for those friends who knew me in my "before" life, and love me still. Because I feel like a very different person now than I was then. And there's such exhale in simply being known.

I am amazed anyone at all shows up here to read the scribblings of my heart. Thank you. Truly.

God is not absent. Not distracted. He sees. He knows. He cares. And He's doing something about it.


So I guess that means I know quite a bit more than I thought I did...