Monday, August 13, 2012

Life as One of a Dozen: The Beginings


The story of how I came from a lifetime in the city to this country house in the middle of no-where Arkansas is truly nothing short of divine interference.

I had graduated from Mercy Ministries at the same time as graduating from high school and was not about to run off to college miles away after just coming out of a troubled girls home—so living at home and going to a small private baptist school with a full-ride for tennis became my reality. As it would be, I never played a single match yet somehow school was payed for in whole. Grace? I'll take it.

After a year of learning the hard way that being a Mercy Grad did not mean I was perfected—and that going back to the same old environment as a whole new person was indeed cause for extreme battles—I decided it was time to spread those wings and fly—away, far far away.

In some God moment where I heard Him more clear then ever in my whole four years of knowing Him, on a plane ride to the mountains of Virginia, He spoke to me through Isaiah. He told me He was going before me—and behind me. He told me to go to the mountains and proclaim the good news. It just so happened that as He told me this, I glanced up for a gaze out my window and was met with a birds-eye-view of the most beautiful mountain ranges I ever had seen—the only ones I ever had seen I supposse. I got off that plane and jumped in my best friend's arms—we drove off into the mountains and I knew this was the next step. A cross country move and life in the mountains.

The next week my application was in and I was accepted. Radford nursing school, here I come. Then I jumped on a plane to spend the summer in an aboriginal village in the outback of Australia proclaiming the message of life to many who were so near death. God moved and spoke boldly to my weary heart. I came back doubting my move into the mountains—{I am not proud to say, this was mostly because of the distance that would separate me from the boy who stole my heart overseas...but that's a whole other story.} It just so happened that some finances fell through at this point, and my journey to the mountains was no more—or so I thought.

I had two weeks until school started. No where to run, no escape from the turmoil of doubting the perfection of His plans. Lord, I KNOW you told me to go to the mountains. What in the world are you trying to do here?

Desperate to escape life at home, I began applying to colleges—random random colleges. I applied to two in Arkansas. The U of A called my name immediately as everything fell into place. Aside from the fact that I knew not a sole in this city which I had yet to even lay eyes on—oh and had no place to live.

Frantically, I started calling apartment complexes searching for a one bedroom anywhere. At one of the names on the list, a man answered and we got to talking a bit. He told me they didn't have any one-bedrooms left, but they did have a discipleship program. What...wait, what did you just say? Remembering still brings a smile—none but Jesus, this I know. Lord, I believe, help my unbelief might have been something I uttered as I prepared for the unknown that was to come.

A few hours later I had applied for the program and was accepeted. A few days later we loaded up my earthly belongings and headed towards those deep Southern accents and stench of Southern grease.

As I pulled up to my new home away from home, I saw mountains, and I knew. 

Yes Sir, Yes Ma'am. Welcome to the South.

I will go before you and will level the mountains; I will break down gates of bronze and cut through bars of iron. -Isa. 45:2

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