Arkansas: Part 7

October 20^th, 2009

It was my last day at work.

I walked into work that day and did not know what to feel.

I had been thinking about this day since my conversation with Becca and Stephanie. What would this day feel like? Would I cry? Would I be overwhelmed with emotion? How would I handle this?

It was nothing like I expected it to be. My staff brought cards, a cake, gifts, cookies. They thanked me for all I had done and wished me the best in what I would be doing in the future. The whole evening was a bit of a blur, but at the end of the night I knew one thing, I had finished well. It was something that I had promised Brent. I told him I would be engaged and not check out until I had left. And at 10:45pm when I turned in my keys and walked out to my car . . . I looked back. This was the only time in this amazing journey that I have looked back. It wasn’t out of regret or disappointment . . . it was out of gratitude. I loved those people. I loved my boss. I loved my other managers. And I loved my dream team . . . but now, it was time to go. So for the last time, I got in my car and I left. I think of them often. I still keep in contact with quite a few of them. And Brent and I talk often.

November 2^nd, 2009

15 hours and 32 minutes = 913 miles = Colorado Springs to Conway.

This drive was much different than the first.

One of the best differences . . . I didn’t have to do it alone.

Stephanie, my roommate and dearest friend . . . came with me.

There is nothing better than a road trip with one of your best friends. We listened to podcasts, laughed at random sites along the way, talked about anything and everything. But there was depth to this time with one another. It’s almost like we both knew that the ability to just be with each other . . . was quickly going to come to an end, but neither one of us wanted to say it. It’s as if we didn’t speak it . . that maybe it wouldn’t really happen. Maybe time could somehow stop and we could have just a little bit more time with each other. So every word that was spoken, every thought that was processed . . . carried great weight, unlike conversations before.

Our goal for the day was Oklahoma City. Stephanie’s sister, Whitney, lived there. It was a little more than half way and a great place to rest. Once we arrived at her house, it was late. Too late for any real conversation. All we wanted to do was sleep. But as I wrapped myself in a blanket and got comfortable on the couch, the soft voice of the Lord began to speak. But it was different this time, there was a sternness unlike before . . . it was still comforting somehow, but I knew I really needed to listen.

“I want you to talk to Whitney. But don’t speak until it’s time.

You will know the time. And when you do speak, you will

know exactly what to say.”

I didn’t know what to think. I really didn’t know Whitney. And what I did know didn’t give me any clue about what I could possibly have to say to her? I knew that she had gone through some hard times . . . but that was it. She didn’t know me. What would she think about some random friend of her sister’s stopping for the night, telling her something crazy and then leaving. This didn’t make any sense. It didn’t make sense . . . it . . . didn’t . . . make . . . sense. As those four words echoed in my head over and over again, my heart began to come alive. NOTHING had made sense lately. Ever since June 6^th at Starbucks . . . anything I had done . . . really didn’t make sense. So in that moment . . . not knowing what I was agreeing to, I whispered back, “ok. I don’t think I have anything to say to her, but if I do . . . I’ll speak.”

The next morning I slowly woke up. Sometimes it amazes me how great sleep can be, on a couch. As I slowly began to remember where I was and what I was doing . . . the thought of talking to Whitney quickly came to mind. Alright. . I’m ready. Whenever you want me to do this Lord, I’m ready. The three of us slowly got ready for the day. We were going to go see their grandma, before we began our second day of driving. I felt a bit disconnected from the plans because I didn’t want to miss the moment of talking with Whitney. We drove in separate cars to their grandmother’s house and I couldn’t help but think, when am I going to talk with her if I’m not even with her. Once we were at their grandmother’s they quickly got caught up in family conversation. Lots was going on and they were needing to catch up. I was silent for most of the visit. It wasn’t time. Not yet. After a little while it was time to leave. We walked out to our cars and I couldn’t help but think . . . did I miss it? And almost in that exact same moment, someone suggested going to get some food. We quickly decided that getting a meal before we got on the road was a really good idea. We arrived at a cute little breakfast place, sat down in a big comfy booth and began to look over the menus. After we had ordered, I looked across the table at the two of them and Whitney looked back at me and asked, “So why are you moving to Arkansas?”

It’s as if time stopped. I hadn’t been asked this question by

someone who really didn’t know me. How would I ever

begin to tell her? I’ll have to leave a lot out so it won’t take

that long to tell. I wouldn’t want to bore her.

Speak.

Wait. This is it! My story. His orchestration. This is what

she needs to hear. I knew that I couldn’t leave out anything.

Not one detail. I needed to tell it all.

This is another moment that I will never forget. For the next hour, I told Whitney my story. I cried. She cried. She began to share with me what was going on in her life. She was ready to start moving forward and really start believing that God had a plan for her life. She was ready to stop believing the doubt and the lies and start walking in truth. It was a powerful moment. I truly believe that her life was changed.

But something else happened in this moment. You see, I had been believing a lie and I had made a wrong agreement . . . I believed that that I didn’t have story. That I never had a story. I didn’t have anything to share. But in that moment, listening to Whitney talk through her thoughts . . . that lie that I had believed for so long. . was SHATTERED. I did have a story. A powerful story. We all do. And when we don’t believe it, we say to God . . . you didn’t do good enough with me. . . I have nothing to share.

We cannot continue to believe these lies. This is what the enemy wants. He wants us to be quiet, because as soon as we start sharing our stories, there is power!

Two hours later, we walked into the parking lot. For just a moment it was only me and Whitney, and she looked at me and said, “If one of the reasons you are moviing to Arkansas was to crash at my house, tell me your story and light a fire under my butt . . . I’m so glad you were obedient.” And in this moment a thought entered my mind that humbled me and excited me all in the same instance . . .

This is going to affect more people than I could ever imagine.