kentucky lasts

 I do not regret loving here. But it sure makes leaving harder.

It’s our last Easter in Kentucky and we are divided between 2 churches, some of us attend both. Soon we'll be divided across three states-- wait, no actually four when Aggie leaves for college… soon.

Soon. It is all so soon.

My heart is pulled in every direction.

There is excitement- I will jump again, take a leap again, with this man I love.

How many people get to do this so often in a marriage?

We look forward to together, to new adventures; to drinking coffee in the mornings on our new porch while the sun rises over the field. My complaint and prayer to him and to God-- “get me out of the city” -- is being answered this very week.

But first, we must pack, we must make a thousand tiny decisions, and we must walk, one by one, through all the Kentucky lasts.

What is coming to an end?

The list is so long.

Living in the same house as Aggie; in the same city as Seth & Ava, Grammy & Bump, Quinn & Sara and the kids. Weekly worship at Our Savior. Our lives intertwined with these homeschool families in our life-giving co-op.

I name them one by one, treasuring, grieving, praying for God’s help to open my hand and trust Him as I set them each down.

The vast preciousness of the humans and the places around me light up brightly here at the edge of goodbyes.

I will not close my eyes, even when they tear up

with sadness or

with the sheer brilliance of it all, the memories of all that God has done in this place. it’s overpowering,

like the scent of the lilies around the altar on Easter Sunday.

-----

Lord you have lately brought to light

our time right here is fleeting

We sing your comfort and your might

Your faithfulness repeating

and as last joys and times go by

with bold grief-hope we smile and cry

our lives are in your keeping

(added verse to across the sky the shades of night lsb 899)