it’s as if all my responsibilities were sentences.

That was all exciting. But then it became this weird stage of maintaining and growing. Learning how to make bazillions of lattes.
Trying (and failing) to build a social media team. Making new friends and building relationships and taking risks.

Feeling disoriented and disorganized and scared, even as the Sentences were tumbling toward…
something Solid…
eventually.

It’s as if all my responsibilities were songs,
and they were all playing at once,
in different keys…
and suddenly they all fell on the same
note.

It shocked me when it came. I didn’t know what to feel, you know, that night…
But suddenly it made me realize how much noise I had actually gotten used to hearing.
Just, in everything. And as all these songs came to an abrupt halt, honestly,
I experienced a peace I couldn’t describe to you in words.

And a simplicity of resolve
as I took you at your word.

A week ago, I was so excited for my future,
and the future of those close to me.
And now… I still am.
But maybe even
moreso.

They say you never know what you’ve got
until it’s gone.

But it’s also the opposite.

You don’t know what you don’t have
until you have it.

 (“I will not trust the sweetest frame, but wholly trust in Jesus’ name.”)

I’ve lost some things this week. I’m sad. I’ll miss them, and I won’t neglect the importance of grieving.
But I have this strange feeling that something even better is coming.
Not to replace the amazing things that I had. But to build from them in a way they couldn’t build without it.

I don’t know what you’re looking for.
I don’t know what I’m looking for.
So I won’t ask for you to describe a future to me that we honestly just can’t even guess at.
But I’m excited, and I’m always going to be here rooting for you,
because that sustaining note never ended this whole time.
He has been singing to me, and now I really do perceive it.
(And if He is for you, how could I be against you?)

 (“Do not be afraid … because your Father delights to give you the kingdom.”)

It’s as if the state of Colorado was put in a sand sifter,
and all the seemingly big rocky mountains fell through,
and the sand moved around for a minute there,
but, phew, I landed on this Rock,
this Note that never ended.
It’s the Hum of Aslan,
the Word that sustains,
the Cord that “holds all things together.”

And we shifted, too —
not because we’re sand,
but because the sand is being revealed for what it is,
and it’s repositioning us for stability and impact and joy.
And even when it settles again, and I take a walk, I want to stand on that Rock.

So friend, I wanted you to know that I’m leaving my coffee shop.
I’m leaving it in the same capable hands to whence I came.
Even though our radio hasn’t worked right for months,
the Song is there. And I’m chasing the next chapter,
just like you always challenged me to.

The crucial conversations could  not have gone better.
The timing could not have been better.
The future could not be brighter.
And among such sinking sands
I’ve never felt so confident.

Not just in where I am,
and where I’m going,
but in where you are,
and where you’re going.

So, needful to say,
it was no less than an absolute honor.
The early mornings. The late nights. The glories of free iced coffee.
The laughter and tears and even times when we were only half there.

It’s been a cold winter, but in the words of that wise sidekick,
“put me in summer and I’ll be a…
happy snowman.”

The fiery sun will melt away all illusion and pretense,
unveiling us for who we really are.
I’ll meet you there, now
and then.

I’m not going anywhere.
I’ll be here on this rock
as everything sinks into place.
And shifts.
And sinks.

It’s as if the sand is falling, directed by gravity,
telling us of someone who loves us greatly,
who wants to save our world, who never gave up on plan A,
who doesn’t break his promises, even after all the accusations,
but literally shifts heaven and earth
to see to it that we’ll be far more than fine
forever and ever.

“Every good and perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,
who does not change like shifting shadows.”