2020 will go down in our family’s story as our promise land year.

I have tried again and again to write the story of what’s been unfolding, have prayed again and again for the right words to truly share of God’s glory and faithfulness. I have finally relented that I will never feel ready to share, because I’ll never be able to capture the magic of God in all of this - but I must share anyway, and trust that He can bring my words to life.

Three years ago, we were newlyweds. Pretty much as soon as we got married, we started to hear a call from God over our family.

For me, it started with the idea of wonder. Flashes in my mind of hand built tree houses and green forest adventures, mountain views and lightning bugs in mason jars. Two blonde vibrant children laughing, their backs towards me as they run towards the campfire light. I felt charged with the duty of wonder - creating a world of imagination for the children God would give us. I felt suddenly compelled to create the childhood they would need, even though I hadn’t met them yet. I knew, suddenly and deep in my bones, that we would someday move away from our community in Orlando, to a new place that I didn’t know yet.

When I shared this with Mark, he had been feeling the same way. This was remarkable, as we’d never once talked about this or daydreamed together on it. This was the first of *many* confirmations God would give to show us He alone was orchestrating this unique call over us.

And back then, we were thinking 5 years or more before we left. We were thinking we’d get pregnant easily, welcome one or two angels (that sleep perfectly through the night) into our world. We’d build our careers and work hard on our love. We’d have years to watch our community pour into our little ones. And eventually, someday, we’d pick up and move to the place of wonder we were seeing in our dreams.

Then, about a year ago, my parents retired and wanted to put down roots wherever it was we would end up. Insert record screech here, because we weren’t really sure yet where we’d go! We knew what we wanted, we knew how it looked and felt in our minds, but where was it?

Another confirmation from the Lord - my parents shared that they were willing to go ahead of us and pave the way. Help find the small town and the mountain land, help put down roots so that when we were ready, they’d be waiting and there to help. Only now that I am a parent myself do I understand the amount of love and devotion they were operating from. And again, we deeply felt the Lord in their commitment. Like God, they would go before us. It was tangible evidence that He was moving.

Back then, our plan was 3+ years out. The plan was that my parents would find and buy land, build a home and grant us a portion of the land to build our future home some day. We figured financially and communally, that would be a slow process for us but something to work towards and dream of as we lived our lives in Orlando.

It’s important to pause here and note that this whole dream centered on these children’s lives we felt called to steward well. These two little backs I saw running towards the fire light, the chubby hands I saw holding the mason jar of lightening bug summertime magic. The chorus of laughter I could hear ringing in my ears.

We felt so called to them, so certain of them. And then we lost our first pregnancy. And then we lost another. And by the time we lost our third, I was broken. This dream of moving was called into question - I swore I must have been hearing God wrong if I was hearing Him call me to motherhood, to family, to these souls, and yet here I was again and again crippled by loss. Empty handed, I felt foolish. I imagine some of you can relate, if you’ve ever followed a calling only to experience the direct opposite of what was being spoken to you. It is traumatizing and bewildering and hard to make sense of up from down. What was real?

How can you be called to life, and yet walk in death?

Yet on this journey I came to find this was the christian paradox we must all make peace with.

My life, my dreams were on pause as I picked up the pieces and asked unanswerable questions. I watched as God and I together rebuilt my faith. I watched as stories in the Bible of holy grief met me in my suffering, like water in a barren land. I felt permission, for the first time in my life, to truly and fully grieve. Not just my losses, but all of my pain and heartache over the years. All of my trauma.

Together, we made something new.

A faith that was more real than before. I wondered if the vision and calling of family would ever materialize, or if it was all just to edify my faith and bring me back to God? It was all so bittersweet.

Fast forward to October 2019, we were pregnant again. Each day I woke with bated breath to see if I could spend one more day with this life inside me. It was a strained but joyous time. I never, not once in all 9 months, felt confident I would meet him. I had known the swift unrelenting sting of loss too many times to let my guard down.

But during that pregnancy, our dream towards our family calling picked up its pace again. That Christmas, my parents found land and sold their house, and began work on building their new home. In that process they gifted us a few acres to call our own and someday build on.

All in one fell swoop, we had our son growing stronger every day and we now had land to our name. This season was pregnant with hope. With life. We talked often about how and when we’d be able to begin building our own home. We still planned 1-2 years out - so much of our decision based in our community and meaningful careers in Orlando.

Enter Covid.

Pause. I often think about how when I first found out I was pregnant with Ben, God knew he would be born in the middle of a pandemic. Covid didn’t surprise God, it just surprised all of us. The timeline of our life was already set. The move and the baby, these things were planned before 2020 and yet Mark and I were just catching up to God’s plan and timing.

Unpause. Suddenly we couldn’t engage our community in person anymore. Covid had taken that from us in one fell swoop. Just as suddenly, my parents, who are high risk, were far away from us and needing our ongoing support. Adding to that, because of my own health history, any options for childcare and postpartum support we were planning had been taken off the table.

All at once, there was no reason to stay in Orlando if they needed us + our community couldn’t be in Ben’s life. It was a whirlwind of realizations for us as the dust settled and the pandemic became a longterm reality.

So, in April, we pulled the trigger on working with a home builder. We began actively dreaming about what kind of home we’d like to live in for the next fifty years or so. We prayed for favor and found it when it came to mortgages, building costs, finances, landlord graces, and so much more. We watched in awe as mountains in our way were leveled before our eyes in the right time. I remember one day when God opened up some shut doors for us in a big way, I marveled at it all and said to Mark, “We HAVE to write about this. We have to tell this story.” God was calling us to this land, to this town, to this move, to this life’s mission of family & childhood wonder.

in this season, God was a rushing river. It seemed all we had to do was jump into the waters and let His plans take us away.

And so, this is the story of how three years of dreaming and a five+ year forecast became reality and FAST.

This is the story of God blessing us in the desert seasons. Calling us to life even as death tore at our hears.

This is the story of how God used a pandemic & deep personal loss to establish our family in the exact right place at the exact right time.

And so suddenly, this fall, we will be a family of three living on a mountain, in the walls of a home we once only imagined. Multiple generations living amongst each other, taking care of each other, weathering the storms, being the proverbial “village” it takes to raise a child. All of these things were mere dreams and whispers only three short years ago.

Our faith has been stretched beyond what we thought possible. Even now, there are loose ends that feel like enough to stop us in our tracks. It’s been hard to be joyful out loud, to be openly happy and excited about our miracle, when certain pieces haven’t fallen into place just yet. It reminds me of how I felt every day of Ben’s pregnancy. Just holding my breath, thinking, “but can this really be for me? Do I really get to have this dream?”.

But I’ve learned that we miss out on the important moments when we spend so much time holding our breath over the “what ifs” - so! we decided this week that we can no longer delay shouting joyfully about God’s call over us. We’re excited! Nervous! Hesitant! Joyful! Overwhelmed! And most of all humbled - that God would join us in chasing down our heart’s dreams and guide us to our promised land and future. That He would make a way where there was none, and bring our hopes to life.

These pictures below are from the last few months of dreaming, exploring, praying and seeking. So many miles spent on the road, long talks over beef jerky and starbucks dinners, countless prayers over blurred highway lines. So many peaceful moments of sunlight through forest trees on OUR land. So. many. dang. selfies.

So much LIFE being intentionally lived, dreams being intentionally dreamed. Here we go!

(PS we are still taking Florida weddings as usual and adding North Carolina to the regular mix!)