a walk of faith

Before I start this post, it's important to mention that just yesterday, I was doing some housekeeping on the blog format - and noticed that I had a load of unpublished comments awaiting my approval. Some of the comments were from a few days ago, and some went back several years, which was quite a shock!  

There once was a time - long, long ago, when our children took naps and went to bed before 11 PM - I would write prolifically.  That has really tapered off in recent years, and I rarely hear from people anymore.  Although,  I've tried to keep this space somewhat updated as a means of chronicling our lives, I didn't think very many people still read my jabberings.  

Seeing all of the comments yesterday has me both flattered and self-conscious.  While there are a few people I know that read it on the rare occasion I write (Hi Mom! Hi Mrs. Dunnigan!), I've begun equating my writing to singing in the shower.  You really belt it out when you're alone because you know no one is going to hear it.  Or, those that might hear it - love you enough to forgive your imperfections, or laugh when you're way off key.   

It was a really nice surprise to hear from so many people that have been reading this space since our children were babies. Thank you for reaching out to me! Now that I know where the comments awaiting approval are located, I promise I'll do a better job checking them.  (And work on my run-on sentences.)

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Charlie recently found this picture / meme which is such a perfect visual of our lives at the moment. Doesn't it actually look like the guy is dressed for Vermont?

La dee da da da .... I'm walking straight off a cliff! 

Whenever I find myself talking with strangers about how we happened to "land" here, it never fails to elicit a gasp, usually followed by an exclamation of how awesome and inspiring it is that we just took this huge leap of faith.  The fact is: this move and everything we've done over the past few months is all about faith. 

According to Hebrews 11:1, Faith is the confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen. It is the evidence of things we cannot yet see. 

We've got SO MUCH FAITH that things are going to work out positively for us in Vermont.  Although, I will admit, coming to this "place" has not been without a significant amount of second guessing and a couple full-blown panic attacks.  While I'd love to say that I've just embraced this whole experience with a heart full of peace and bliss, I'm nothing if not transparent and honest. 

There have been a few times over the past couple of months where I've started hyperventilating and from a nearly fetal position on the ground, asked, "Why are we here? WHY VERMONT? Why not warm South Carolina near my mom and Aunt Grace? We don't know anybody here! What have we done?! I gave up my stable and lucrative career, 4.5 years from retirement! We gave up our home and our community!  Winter is coming soon, we still have 250 boxes to unpack, I have no idea where my down jacket is .... and we're all going to freeze and perish!" 

We knew no one when we stopped dropped and rolled on the banks of Lake Champlain in late July.  No jobs. No home. No community. No, nothing except a hope and a prayer - and our beloved Airstream. 

Despite not having any roots here, we started sowing seeds, fast.  

As of this writing, we are dialed in with a church and bible study group, an orthodontist - dentist - doctors, a ladies cards group, two scout troops, two schools - and various sports teams. William and Elizabeth have both started part-time jobs, and I'll be starting a knitting group once we get settled in to our new home, which is scheduled to close on Friday.  

As in, this Friday ... Charlie's birthday.  

Aside from Charlie's part-time work, we do not yet have jobs.  There's a large part of me that cannot believe we bought a home without having steady employment - but we did.  Why?  Because it was a better financial investment than renting, we believe we are going to be here for a while (at least until the children graduate from high school!) and most importantly: we have faith. 

The confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen.   

The evidence of things we cannot yet see. 

A couple weeks ago, on a particularly challenging day, I stumbled upon the wisdom of 94-year old Catherine Ponder.  Catherine is a prosperity guru, predating Tony Robbins and Joel Osteen, and her message, in a nutshell, is that we need to turn the great energy of our thinking in to ideas of plenty.  

Rather than plague ourselves with negative thoughts, we instead need to open our minds to receive the universal abundance that is ours.  Some of her key points (I took notes from her nearly four hour 1972 conference on YouTube!) include:

- Things are getting better and better

- Get rid of what you don't want to make room for what you do want

- There must be a release of the old to make way for the new 

- We must let go of all worn out things: worn out conditions, worn out relationships

- Order must be established, we need to get things in "divine order" for channels to open

- We must believe that it is spiritually right to prosper and let go of any guilt

- Dynamic is dynamite: If you work your plan, it will blast us out of our own limitations 

- Get definitive in thoughts and actions, and vast improvement will come quickly to life

That last point is so powerful, I love it.  We must get definitive about what you want.

Ever since I've listened to this message, I have tried to be very intentional with my energy: my thoughts, my actions, my time. And I have been extremely grateful for all the blind steps that we've taken over the past 100 days on this journey, that have miraculously, time and time again, been met with solid ground.  

But I still need some help with being intentional. It turns out, I can be very easily distracted and sometimes have the mental capacity of a potato chip.  

Perhaps I need to take more naps and drink more water.  

Walking straight off a cliff in to a new life can be exhausting, and dehydrating.