Branches and Trees

I'm coming home.

In a few short weeks, I'll turn in my keys at a job I've loved for four years, and start a brand new adventure with my husband and daughter at home. It's been a desire of my heart since I was a little girl - and now that the opportunity is finally here, I've realized that I made my choice a long, long time ago.

It's been a simple decision, but not an easy one. I'm leaving a fantastic job, a place and purpose I believe in,  a boss whom I love and respect, and co-workers I adore. I'm saying goodbye to a routine that suits me well, and a desk full of memories. I'm leaving a paycheck.

But.

I'm coming home to a husband and daughter I love - to serve them and know them better. To more flexibility for writing and playing music. To a cleaner house, mornings that are less stressful, and a hiatus from the morning commute. To dreams, upon dreams, upon dreams.

My heart is so full, it aches.

- - -

Over the past couple years, our family tree has gone through a lot (as all family trees do, now and then). The branches have many days been filled with joy, flickering and bright - and on those days, light and life have overwhelmed the tree with a glow that is impenetrable.

But there have also been many days that the wind and rain have crashed against the branches, leaving some broken or lost down at the base of the tree. The grief on those days has cast a shadow over the tree... our tree... and hope has been hard to hold onto.

Trees grow stronger as the roots grow deeper, and inevitably so has ours. New branches grow, as others are lost - and the past year with our baby girl has been one full of inexplicable bliss. But there are days when I see my eyes in the mirror and wonder at the new lines surrounding them. It's no mystery, nor is it unique... joy and grief write stories on all our faces.

But it's the first time I'm noticing the story on my own.

- - -

Christmas is a blink away... as is my one year old daughter's high school graduation, as is my last day here at work... as is next week's dinner with friends, and my passing to eternal glory. It's all going so fast - the joy of it all, the brevity, the wrenching - with no respect to persons or meaning or emotional preparedness or family tree.

In the wake of all this, I can do nothing except everything Christ made possible... confess my finiteness to the Infinite, and cast my cares upon Him. Praise Him for the immeasurable ways He has loved me, and worship Him with each breath He gives.

And for now, I can also give up a paycheck. Spend more time with some of the other branches. Water, mend, and nurture. Learn how to cook. Pray for sunshine, pray for rain. Write. Keep the floors a bit cleaner. Schedule play-dates with other moms, and learn how to be a better friend. Play piano at the end of the day. Decompress, to better serve. Pray for miracles.

It's what I want, with all my heart - and it's finally here.

I'm coming home.