Often when I am in a place where I must make a decision, I flood myself with an endless input of information. For me lately, I've been collecting advice from loved ones, gathering information to assemble a strategic, accurate pros and cons list, studying bible verses, and for this particular decision, even meditating over the song, Wide Open Spaces by the Dixie Chicks. It really was quite appropriate. In the end, my attempt to control did me no good. At this point, I'm simply taking a leap of faith. Let me explain.
As Dalton and I start our own book of life together, I want clean, crisp pages. I want our sweet, little family to have its own identity. It's own story. A unique plot, wonderful setting, beautiful characters. We asked ourselves how can we start to set down our own roots? How can we start to create the happiest little family? How do we want to begin our book?
Well, it turns out our opening chapter begins with a new place. I will be teaching at Dripping Springs Middle School.
Now, I know I will have naysayers. I know some will be angry. Some will be hurt. And I understand. I have been through all these same emotions myself, so let me help you walk through them. How can I leave the community I grew up in? How can I leave the people, the kids, the Mustang glory? My answer is simple. I will always serve this community. It just may not look the same. I will always have part of my identity here. My family, Dalton's family is here. We have friends here. This will always be home. Yet, our hearts are being called, and we must go.
Now, another important thing to understand. This was not something that I actively sought out. In fact, I did everything to not seek anything. I wanted this to be about a greater good, a bigger calling. In order for that to happen, I needed to let go. My input of information was null and void, and the voice of both myself and naysayers is mute. I left this decision to God. I asked a simple prayer. God please either close this door or open it. I will follow. I tried to remove my will from the situation.
This played out over a series of decisions in which I simply followed and waited. The first actually came in saying no to Dripping Springs. They had called me for an interview right after my grandmother's passing. In order to attend the interview day, which I was told would be the only one, I would have to miss the funeral. Despite my family's encouragement to take care of myself, I chose my family. I saw this as God shutting the door. I muted my voice and simply listened and followed in obedience. I thought that was the end, and God had given me my answer. I was content. My heart was at peace.
But, it didn't end there. A few weeks later, they called again. I interviewed and was offered the job on the same day. At this point though, I had to be released from my contract in Marble Falls. In my mind, this was God's final opportunity to show me His will. It was my test to go through the open door and look away from the one that closed, no matter the door. If my contract was to be released, I would go in obedience. If the answer was no, I would continue to proudly keep teaching the students in the town I grew up in and love. In the end, after tears, prayers and hard conversations, I was told to go out, spread my wings and seek the wide open spaces. I was being released from my contract. God gave me my answer.
Now I am here. I am scared. I am fearful. I am full of faith. I have walked through the door God opened, and I am ready to explore the wide open spaces. I know not everyone will understand, and I don't fully understand myself. That is the beauty. I get to embark on this unknown journey. Dalton and I get to negotiate a new community, solve new problems, hold each other tightly and lift each other up in dark times. We get to celebrate the good and exciting surprises of something new, and experience the grace, joy and guidance that I am sure God is to provide. We will begin our book, although I do not yet know the words to our story. We will walk through the door that was opened for us, although I do not yet see a light or a direction. We will simply run through the wide open spaces.