Elizabeth's Story: Arkansas: Part 1

I’ve decided that my story really doesn’t have a beginning.

There have been too many things already going on and coming together,

that to mark a beginning to all of this. . .

isn’t that simple.

So I will begin as best as I know how.

My life was great, absolutely wonderful.

Great job. Great friends. Great family. Great life.

But at the end of the day there was a whisper, a constant echo that I could not escape:

My heart longed for something more.

I had shared with close friends and family that I didn’t think I wanted to be in the restaurant business forever. At the time I had been a manager at a restaurant for about

2½ years. It was a job that I really enjoyed. I loved the daily challenges and the constant question of; I wonder what might happen today. The best part about my job was the people that worked for me. I had an absolutely amazing crew. Your restaurant type Dream Team. The best of the best. So why was it that in all this good. . . all I could feel was an ache in my heart for something different. I dismissed it for some time, thinking it may go away. It didn’t. The thought of leaving the restaurant went from a monthly consideration, to a weekly thought, to something I couldn’t escape.

June 6^th, 2009. Little did I know what this day would bring. It was a Tuesday. My roommate Stephanie, my sister Becca and I would meet every Tuesday for an accountability time. Something that was still fairly new to us, but something that had become such a necessity in our lives. It was a pretty normal Tuesday, we talked about the week and where we were at, prayer needs, life, etc. As the time was wrapping up, I checked my watch thinking about what I would do for an hour before I had to go to a routine doctor checkup. As my focus came back into the conversation I noticed that Stephanie and Becca’s countenances had changed. They started to talk to me about what I was doing with my life and when I was going to break out of the corporate mold. At first I didn’t want to hear what they had to say, their words were sharp and cut straight to my core. As they continued to speak, my heart began to soften. Once again my thoughts drifted. Ok Lord, what if I left my job? What would I do? Where would I go? Could I really do this? And as I was asking these questions, a name instantly came to my mind. James Bennett.

We have to go back now a few years, so that you will understand the importance of this name. When I graduated high school I went to a leadership academy called 24/7. I was in the program for 3 years. I could talk at length about the program, but that is a whole ‘nother blog. My first year in 24/7, James was a 3^rd year and my following 2 years, James was on staff. James was someone I grew to respect, trust and really learn from. After his second year on staff, James and his wife Codi, moved to start a 24/7 program at a church in Conway, AR. Hopefully you just had an “ah-ha” moment. Back to the accountability time.

James Bennett. Ok. I hadn’t thought of that name for quite some time. I wonder what he was doing. How Codi was. And as I thought about these things and instant rush of peace came over me. Stephanie had noticed something had changed and quickly asked me, “What was that? Did you just think of something? What just happened?” All I could manage to say was . . . James Bennett. Both her and Becca quickly became silent. It was like they were having the same realization I had just a moment earlier. We all sat in silence. Silence. . . . . . .Silence . . . . . . . . I finally was able to speak, “You guys are right. I have been on a corporate treadmill for too long and it’s time for me to get off. I have been running and running and running, but I am getting no where.” Honestly, what was said by anyone after this. . . I’m not too certain. I just remember one final statement that I made, “I need to call James”.

I got into my car and began to drive to my doctor’s office. What before had been an hour I needed to waste, had quickly become only 10 minutes in which I needed to get there. I went through all the paperwork in a bit of a haze. It wasn’t until I got into the room, with the door closed, sitting in the silence . . . that the tears began to stream down my face. Not tears of sadness or even really tears of joy, but the thought of breaking away from the familiar and stepping into the unknown . . . His unknown . . . overwhelmed me. The tears wouldn’t stop. Slow, steady, hot tears streamed down my face. The next few moments I will always remember. I reached into my purse for any piece of paper I could find and quickly began to write. The words flowed so smoothly and so quickly, but they weren’t my words, they were His. Promises of what would come and restoration of what had been. He was with me, He would not leave me. Yes, I was ready to step into His unknown.