Last week, Dan and I spent the week on separate continents…he was in Europe (roaming about a 500 year old village in the English countryside, eating venison bake or some other horrid British food….) and I was in the good old melting pot of the USA, Clearwater, Florida.  It’s hard to imagine two more diverse places….one that spends its time celebrating its proud past full of unchanged rich tradition, and one that embraces all things new and updated, with buildings that change inhabitants faster than a mention of the word Obama throws us into a discussion of fiery politics at our family Thanksgiving dinner.

There was a time when I was younger when everything around me defined my security.  My parents, my home, my husband, my education, my kids….and the list goes on.  It has been very slow in coming to me, but I am starting to realize a new kind of peace. This peace comes in the form of security, in SPITE of my surroundings.  The lesson began for me that day that Dan announced six years ago that he thought we were supposed to move to Florida.  I had no plans to leave the state of Ohio at any point, needed the security of all of my figurative blankies, and was in the middle of my close friend dying of cancer.  That close friend was my Grandma…my mamaw, and as her body and conversations began to change, while the disease raged quickly within her, my life began to change, too.

I remember arguing with God in the shower about this move…my loss, my fear, my insecurity, and my pain.  While lathering up the shampoo, I remember Him telling me that He was tyring to make an investment in me, and my family, and Him asking me to get on board.  I could only cry.  I am still stirred to tears remembering the tender way I felt Him speaking to me.  I jumped out of the shower, called Dan at work, and told him (much to his shock and dumbfounded disbelief) I would go.

That leap of faith taught me more than I ever could have imagined.  Those first few weeks in my new home, 1000 miles from anyone I knew, I had no choice but to cling to the only real security we have in this life.  There is no true, lasting, unchangeable security apart from Him.  People, even those who love us more than life, can leave this life.  Things…vanish, burn, fade, become devalued, and get lost.  Even as Dan came home each day from his new job in Clearwater, I remember him asking me in all compassion, “When will you be able to stop crying?  I want you to be happy.  I hate that I can’t help you.”  Asking God to heal my heart and bring me comfort and peace was all I could do…nothing else worked.

Now I have the benefit of looking back – six years later.  Life has brought many challenges and joys since those tough weeks after Grandma died.  But I believe that as I’m continuing to let go of all of those things that I thought defined me and made me feel safe, my hands are open to hold onto a new kind of security.  Security that can’t fade, can’t be taken, can’t be stolen and can’t be lost.  The price of my learning experience was so high, but the value of the lesson learned will be priceless.  And no one can take it from me.