My heart stopped.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.
Me? First? Wait. . . I don’t know if I’m ready? Was I ready?
Thoughts and memories flashed through my mind.
“So what’s up Liz? What do you need to talk about?”
What.
Where do you begin? How do you tell someone, who you have worked with for years, that you were ready to leave? Why would you ever leave such a good place? Why would I ever leave??
My heart longs for something more.
I took a deep breath and calmly said, “Brent . . . I don’t even know how to start this.”
He quickly responded with, “Come’on Liz . . it’s me, just say it.”
“I’m moving.”
As the words escaped my lips, I didn’t know where this statement would take me. What would he think? Would he be supportive? Would he be mad? He had invested so much into me. He was one of the main reasons I was so successful in my career. He had mentored me through so much and really invested in my life. . . . please, please let him understand.
The next 20 minutes of conversation. . . I will never forget.
The excitement in his eyes was . . . overwhelming. He was so interested in where I would be going and what I would be embarking on. Even though I didn’t have a whole lot of answers, he was so supportive. He wanted to know what he could do to help, how he could get me ready for this next phase of life. We talked about when my last day would be. We talked about whoever would replace me. We talked a few more logistics, but the conversation quickly came back around to me leaving. He reminded me that I had always told him that I wanted to do something other than be in the restaurant business. He knew stories of missions trips that I had been on before. He knew my heart. He said he knew this day would always come, he had just hoped it wouldn’t be this soon.
As our conversation was ending, he looked at me. His eyes were soft and sincere. I knew that the words he was about to speak . . . may not be easy to say. He reached across the table and put one of his hands on mine. My eyes began to fill with tears. . . . “Liz, I want you to know what an honor it has been to have you in my life and also to be a part of yours. You truly are an amazing person and I know that this next phase of your life will be nothing but amazing. Promise me you will keep in touch.”
“Of course Brent . . . of course I will.”
“I’m serious Liz . . . promise me you will keep in touch.”
In that moment . . . it hit me. This was the first time that the reality of all this. . . hit me! I was leaving. This was happening. In five weeks I wasn’t going to have a job. In seven weeks I wasn’t going to have a home. But in that moment. . . that precious moment, the only thing that mattered was a friendship. And with hot tears streaming down my face . . . and a lump in my throat, I said, “Yes. . . I promise.”
I got up from the table and walked to the other side of the restaurant. I took a few deep breaths. I cried a little more. The building emotion was engulfing me. . . and now, I could finally let it. I sat down in a booth. As I sat . . . a joy, that I cannot explain, began to saturate my every being. In this moment I could have focused on all that I would be leaving, all the sadness that comes with a move. But all I could think about was, God. . . what’s next?? Cause this . . . this is getting exciting!!
October 1st, 2009
A little over two weeks had passed. The phasing out process at work was going incredibly well. A replacement had been chosen. I was doing all I could to teach others my responsibilities, so that they could do them once I was gone.
Packing the townhome was beginning to prove to be a different story. There was so much to do. Things to give away. Things to store. Cleaning. Painting. Overwhelming . . . was an understatement.
One of the other factors that made packing the townhome a challenge, was the fact that I didn’t know where I was going to live in
Still no place to live. I wasn’t worried. But in my mind we were running out of time. I was 19 days away from my last day at work. And 30 days from being out of my town home.
Calmly and humbly . . . I asked the Lord, yet again . . . Can I maybe email Ms. B and see if she knows of anyone else I can live with?
His response. . . Yes.
I wasted no time! I went to my computer, opened my email account, and began to compose an email in my head as the webpage loaded. As my Inbox appeared on the screen, I had (1) New Message. Interesting. I had checked my email that morning, I wonder what this could be. The first thing I noticed . . . The Sender: Lisa Rateliff.
Before I even opened the email, I knew what it would say.
I opened the email and began to read . . . yes, she still wanted me to come live with her.
Why had I ever questioned the way the Lord was
clearly orchestrating timing and people and places?
She had left her phone number and again I wasted no time. As the phone rang I was so excited to speak with her. She answered. We exchanged “hellos” and “how are you’s”. I told her how I had received her email and was still very interested in living with her. I told her that I had no other options as far as a living situation and she responded with words that quickly calmed my heart, “I want you to live with me.”
It was settled.
I had a place to live.
Details were discussed.
Move in days were planned.
I had a home in
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