8 Years

8 years ago today, on a very cold, very beautiful Autumn day, I sat beside you on a green Gator tractor as we rode off into the sunset literally yelling, "What did we just do?!" We had promised our lives to one another. Felt like we were spinning wildly out of control, but in the most exciting and promising way. At that moment, the significance of that commitment was really only felt in the acknowledgement that we didn't really understand. It was a beautiful beginning to what would, and what continues to, follow.

Over the years we have learned through the unfolding of moments, and days, and months and seasons what it means to love one another no matter what. We have learned the process of living life as a united front. We have learned to work out the details of managing a home together. We have learned, and continue to learn, how to be parents to our three princesses. We have learned how to take all the good that makes you, you and me, me and create something new and better. We have learned that it is possible to fight without hurting one another. We have learned the depth of forgiveness and grace. We have learned that we won't just stay in love, but that like any commitment it takes work and practice. We have learned that sometimes we have to love one another through action, because it is right, not because we feel like it. We have learned that hardships surrendered to God will make us stronger. We have learned that whether it comes to experiencing joy or pain or anything in between, life is better together than alone.   

I look at you now and I don't see the same man that was in that tractor with me on that very cold, very beautiful Autumn day. I see someone much more mature. Much more seasoned. Someone who has held my hand through the losses and gains that life has brought us. I see the father of my babies, and the leader of our family. I see how God has worked in you, forming you into who He has created you to be. I am thankful for you. I am proud of you. I believe in you. I walk confidently beside you.

If I close my eyes I can still feel it. The cold wind. Newness. The excitement of spinning wildly out of control. I love you, Joshua. I would marry you all over again. Happy anniversary.

Seasons

Sometimes in life we can sense that a season is coming before it is actually upon us. Just a few short weeks ago I could feel fall. The sun simply didn't hang around as long as it had been. I could see traces of color here and there amongst the trees. My heart began to grow anxious for all things pumpkin. And yet the afternoons still saw 80 degrees and my girls and I found ourselves in our pool, soaking up the last days of summer. Now, green fields have faded to golden yellows. Trees are adorned in radiant colors of red and orange. And my kitchen has filled my home with the sweet aroma of pumpkin pancakes, cider, and apple pies. Fall is upon us.

Just like I could sense the change in the season of the year, I have sensed a change in the season of our life here in the Pié home. Really, it would be better stated that we have sensed this change. Josh and I have felt God stirring in our lives for the past couple years. He has revealed Himself in a book here, a documentary there...speaking to us about how big He really is and about how we had been limiting His power in our life by keeping Him small. He revealed Himself in the testimony of a close family member who He freed from heroin addiction...speaking to us how He makes all things new and how He brings dead things back to life. He revealed Himself on mission trips to Haiti and to the Dominican Republic...showing us what He is doing around the world and urging our hearts to desire to be a part of it. He has revealed Himself by speaking over us about promises of adventures and broadened borders...and calling us to take courage and walk even if it means walking into uncertainty. He has revealed Himself in our circumstances...drawing us away from all that has been home, all that has been easy, all that has been familiar and comfortable and secure and quite honestly, all that has been taken for granted. He has revealed Himself in our frustrations, our poor decisions and our loneliness. He has revealed Himself by killing things in us that have been painful to let go of, like our pursuit of the American dream, and in it's place left a desperate longing to walk only in His will for our lives because in our emptiness and weakness we know that He is our portion and our strength. 

The season we are currently in is strange. It's difficult. It doesn't really make sense to us. We are committed in our marriage, yet live apart. I forget what it's like to have that feeling that he is coming home at the end of the day. Our 2-year-old doesn't understand that Daddy lives with us. And every time we are together there is that internal keeping of time, like we know we are just stealing moments together before saying goodbye again. But I know some things. Not because I know them in my head. Not because I can see how it will all work out. In fact, if I would have sat down at earlier times in this season to write about how I thought things were going to work out based on what I could see, I would have been wrong. But, like one yellow leaf on an otherwise completely green tree can bring forth a sense of the arrival of fall while in the midst of summer, the stirring of God in my spirit is telling me, "Be prepared, for a change of season is around the corner. It's not yet upon you. But it's coming. So be prepared. In fact, know that I AM preparing you even now."

So, when I am discouraged, when I am exhausted, when the circumstances that are overshadow the hope of what will be, I remember all the ways God has been revealing Himself. And I remember that seasons come and seasons go. And I know that just around the corner, just after a short time, I will be able to look around me a see the fruitfulness of a new season. I hope you will follow us along the way to God's faithfulness. I think it's going to be good!