Buckaroo Junction

I took some time tonight to read through some older blog entries of mine and found myself stuck at the entry from March 18 of this year. Its funny how words on a screen can evoke so many, almost physically tangible, responses. As I read the words I had written, about the preparation I had had for that day, about how I had so many unanswered questions about Dave losing his job, I felt all of the same emotions. Mostly, it was just fear. I know as Christians we are supposed to trust, but all I felt those first couple of weeks was an all-consuming, gripping fear. I would look at my babies and wonder what on earth we were going to do. And I would look to heaven and wonder what on earth HE wanted us to do. And the answers were slow to come. I had been like Peter, so sure I would never deny him. I remember taking that Bible study a few months prior, feeling that question "What would you do if something really bad happened?" tug at my heart and being so sure of its answer. I would never be shaken. I had too strong of a faith for that. That was for people who didn't have a faith as strong as mine. And then the storm came. And it got worse. Just when I would think we were rounding a bend, my faith would be tested once again. I had to take a good look at myself and what was really beneath the surface. And I have to say, I didn't like what I saw. My whole life I have been a Christian. I thought my faith had been tested. And, in certain ways, it had. But I had never experienced such silence from heaven before. I would pray, and not only would what I prayed for NOT happen, it seemed like the opposite would happen. I clung only to a scripture from Job that said, in essence, "I look for you in the North, and I cannot find you. I look in the South, and you are not there. I look in the east and west and you are not there either. But YOU know where I am going. And when this test is over, you will have refined me as gold."
I am still grappling with my reaction to my storm. Some might look at what happened to us and wonder why I had the reaction to it that I did. I sometimes wonder myself what it was exactly about the events between March 17th and a few short weeks ago that shook my faith to the point of being someone I hardly recognized. I do know that it was something I had to go through. Something tells me this won't be the last serious test of my faith in my life. I will need to cling to this experience and remember how God brought me out of the pit, not because I deserved it, because no one deserved it less. But because of His all surpassing mercy and love.
I was driving down the road the other day when suddenly it occurred to me. I had my answer. How many times throughout the two years we were in Iowa did I pray for the opportunity to come home to North Dakota? I had finally settled it in my heart shortly before Dave lost his job that whatever God had for us was OK. I knew His plan was best. We didn't come home the way I thought we would, but we are here and everything is OK.
So here I sit, typing on my computer in my beautiful new home. The babies are sleeping upstairs. The only noises in my peaceful house are those coming from Isaac's hamster Harold, running in his wheel. I have lots of work to do on the house, it seems never-ending. But I have finally made it. I am home at last.